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#but i'm not going to forget what my art means to me
fernsnailz · 7 months
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cleaning out my files, oc art and misc edition
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averlym · 8 months
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,,, wdhdnfhffjjf
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napstawantstosleep · 2 years
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Eret when he became a scientist to look at strange things idk haven't seen the show
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sleepyseals · 2 years
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[Image Description: A digital painting depicting Feldspar standing to the right of a campfire, facing away from the viewer and upwards. They are holding an arm outstretched above them and the other gesticulates as if they were telling a story. Several fireflies surround them and their shadow falls to their right. Wreathed in the smoke of the campfire is a scene of their campsite in Dark Bramble. Three large twisting brambles, the anglerfish fossil’s teeth, and three pine trees are suspended upside down, stretching downwards toward Feldspar and the campfire. A plume of stylized curling smoke stretches across the top of the scene from Feldspar’s ship in the top right corner. The ship is sparking with electrical failure. End Image Description.]
my piece for the @travelers-encore-zine !!!  I think this came out a bit more conceptual than I wanted but I still like it!
Thank you to the mods for making this happen, putting everything together and being an amazing support team!!! Thank you to my fellow contributors for being so lovely and making such amazing things and sharing this project with me, I'm really happy I got to be a part of it!!
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ragnar0c · 5 months
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Can't stand Alope's ass... People remember 1 thing about her and she goes: 😳😳😳
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godofsmallthings · 8 months
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i love acting like 1989tv is going to catapult me into a 1989 phase when we've done this three times already so i know that actually i'll listen to it once in full and be like huh these sound mildly different in a way that is so uncanny to me because of how well i know the originals and then i will only listen to the vault tracks and in a year will finally warm up to the album and have a belated 1989 phase :)
#and honestly? not complaining at all#i keep forgetting speak now tv is out#and i had my taylor discography playlist on the other day in the car and a speak now song came on (mean maybe?) and i was like half paying#attention and halfway through the song i'm like why the fuck does this sound so weird?#like girl did you forget about taylor lautner backflip?? hello????????#it's wild how ppl moralize liking/not liking the rerecords on here (on both sides of the equation) and it's such a tired convo so i hate#posting about it bc really what am i adding to this discussion#but if anyone cares my stance is that music and memory is so personal and if your excitement about the rerecords#and the technical/vocal improvements in the (earlier especially) recordings works better for you then that's so awesome!!#i wish my creature-of-habit brain could work a little more like that truly bc i think i would have a teeny bit more fun with this#but if you're like me and have gotten used to/emotionally attached to specific vocal performances and tiny details#take ur timeeeeeeee <3 the best part about music is that once it's out it's not going anywhere#the best feeling is when you start having those attachments to the rerecorded version of a song (state of graceeeeeee)#and if that adjustment never happens for u then that's also fine (although it takes two seconds to put those mp3s of all the albums u def#have lying around somewhere into a silly little spotify playlist and listen to those instead of streaming the ogs. turn on local files!!!!)#anyway. i love not giving scooter braun/ppl who treat music as an investment instead of an art money <3#and i love that the rerecords have bene giving us a chance to really reflect upon and celebrate specific albums and eras for a prolonged#period of time. especially as someone who missed most of these when they were happening.#vi is typing...
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Month 4, day 25, Keen demanded I work on him tonight so I did :D Better defined his wings and leg armor, gave him a skirt, rotated everything so he could be nice and big on the canvas and have more room for his wings, and even gave him his emblem and name :D Yeah, he still refuses to change it. He's an asshole, your honor.
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inkskinned · 5 months
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i got rickrolled today but it didn't work because i have adblocker installed, so youtube just told me i violated the terms of service. yesterday i was trying to edit a picture as a joke for my girlfriend, and google made me check a box to prove i'm human because i wasn't "searching normally".
it isn't just that capitalism is killing fun and whimsy, it is that any element of entertainment or joy is being fed upon by this mosquito body, one that will suck you dry at any vulnerability.
do you want to meet new friends in your city? download this app, visit our website, sign up for our email list. pay for this class on making a terrarium, on candlemaking, on cooking. it will be 90 dollars a session. you can go to group fitness, but only under our specific gym membership. solve the puzzle, sign up for our puzzle-of-the-month-club. what is a club if not just a paid opportunity - you are all paying for the same thing, which makes you a community.
but you're like me, i know it - you're careful, you try the library meetings and the stuff at the local school and all of that. the problem is that you kind of want really specific opportunities that used to exist. you are so grateful for libraries and the publicly-funded things: they are, however, an exception - and everything they have, they've fought tooth-and-nail to protect. you read a headline about how in many other states, libraries have virtually nothing left.
do you want to meet up with your friends afterwards? gift your friends the discord app. you can choose to go to a cafe (buy a coffee, at least), a bar (money, alcohol) or you can all stay in and catch a movie (streaming) or you can all stay in bed (rent. don't get me started) and scream (noise complaint. ticket at least).
you want to read a new book, but the book has to have 124 buzzwords from tiktok readers that are, like, weirdly horny. you can purchase this audiobook on audible! your podcast isn't on spotify, it's on its own server, pay for a different site. fuck, at least you're supporting artists you like. the art museum just raised their ticket price. once, they had a temporary exhibit that acknowledged that ~85% of their permanent art galleries were from cis white men, and that they had thousands of works by women (even famous women, like frida! georgia o'keefe!) just rotting in their basement. that exhibit lasted for 3 months and then they put everything away again.
walmart proudly supports this strip of land by the street! here are some flowers with wilting leaves. its employees have to pay out-of-pocket for their uniforms. my friend once got fined by the city because she organized a community pick-up of the riverfront, which was technically private property.
no, you cannot afford to take that dance class, neither can i. by the way - i'm a teacher. i'm absolutely not saying "educators shouldn't be paid fairly." i'm saying that when i taught classes, renting a studio went from 20 bucks an hour to 180 in the span of 6 months. no significant changes to the studio were made, except they now list the place as updated and friendly. the heat still doesn't work in the building. i have literally never seen the landlord who ignores my emails. recently they've been renting it out at night as an "unusual nightclub; a once-in-a-lifetime close-knit party." they spent some of those 180 dollars on LEDs and called it renovating. the high heels they invite in have been ruining the marley.
do you want to experience the old internet? do you want to play flash games or get back the temporary joy of club penguin? you can, you just need to pay for it. i have a weird, neurodivergent obsession with occasionally checking in to watch the downfall and NFT-ification of neopets. if i'm honest with you all - i never got into webkins, my family didn't have the money to buy me a pointless elephant. people forget that "being poor" can mean literally "if i buy you that toy, i can't afford rent."
you and i don't have time to make good food, and we don't have the budget for it. we are not gonna be able to host dinner parties, we're not made of money, kid. do you want some kind of 3rd space? a space that isn't home or work or school? you could try being online, but - what places actually exist for you? tiktok counts as social media because you see other people on it, not because they actually talk to you.
there was a local winter tradition of sledding down the hill at my school. kids would use pizza boxes and jackets and whatever worked, howling and laughing. back in september, they made a big announcement that this time, rules were changing, and everyone must pay 10 dollars to participate. when im not scared shitless, i kind of appreciate the environmental irony - it hasn't gone below 40. so much for snow & joyriding.
i saw a bulletin for a local dogwalking group and, nervous about making a good first impression, showed up early. the first guy there grimaced at me. "sorry," he said. "there's a 30-dollar buy-in fee." i thought he was joking. wait. for what? the group doesn't offer anything except friendship and people with whom to walk around the city.
he didn't know the answer. just shrugged at me. "you know," he said. "these days, everything costs money."
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airprime7 · 5 months
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Why am I seeing so many fake posts on my dash? Like, there's ones from all sorts of made up realities, I'm surprised I haven't seen ones set in webcomics or whatever.
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♊️ twinarmageddons reblogged
♊️ twinarmageddons
all of you iidiiot2 need two 2hut up about computer2 unle22 you know what you're talkiing about. ii 2wear ii 2aw 2ome guy telliing people two pour water on theiir keyboard2 two clean them.
♉️ adiostoreador
uH,,,
iS THAT NOT HOW YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO, uH, dO IT,
♊️ twinarmageddons
oh my fuckiing god 2ome people are actual iidiiot2
#ii mean come on you actually beliieved that
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♑️ terminallycapricious
wAsSuP mOtHeRfUcKeRs???
#HoNk
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♌️ arseniccatnip reblogged
♌️ arseniccatnip
:33 < hiii!!!
:33 < my name is nepeta leijon, and this is my furst post!
:33 < i like shipping, and rolepurrlaying, and hunting
:33 < i have troll pawtism, so i might not be the best at understanding things. sorry if i get confused!
:33 < i also do art, and my commissions are open! purrlease don't ask me to draw trolls pailing, i'm only 6
:33 < bye! :33
♋️ carcinogeneticist
HOW STUPID DO YOU HAVE TO BE TO PUT YOUR FULL NAME IN YOUR PINNED POST.
DON'T YOU KNOW THE FIRST RULE OF GRUMBLR IS NEVER USE YOUR REAL NAME, YOU IDIOTIC EXCUSE FOR A PERSON.
♒️ caligulasaquarium Follow
wwhy is your text grey
♋️ carcinogeneticist
I DON'T KNOW, WHY ARE YOU SUCH A PRETENTIOUS ASSHOLE, FISH FACE.
🤡 i-say-honk Follow
hOnK!
♋️ carcinogeneticist
FUCK OFF, TC, WE ALL KNOW IT'S YOU.
THIS STUPID "GIMMICK BLOG" ISN'T EVEN FUNNY.
♌️ arseniccatnip
:33 < @carcinogeneticist @caligulasaquarium @i-say-honk kill yourselves
#:33 < :33
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♍️ grimauxiliatrix reblogged
♈️ apocalypsearisen Follow
im dead n0w
♍️ grimauxiliatrix
Mood
#Honestly I Cant Believe I Made It Through This Week Alone
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♋️ carcinogeneticist reblogged
👻 ectobiologist Follow
hi! how do i use this app?
♋️ carcinogeneticist
HUMAN ALERT.
@human-alarm
👤 human-alarm Follow
BEEP
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♋️ carcinogeneticist reblogged
♐️ centaurstesticle Follow
D -> The day we stop valuing horses is the day society collapses
♐️ centaurstesticle
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D -> @cuttlefishculler Perhaps I do share some interests with the protagonist of the new popular movie starring Troll Ryan Gosling
D -> If anything that would be a compliment
D -> Not that that's something a f001 such as yourself would understand
♓️ cuttlefishculler Follow
)(-EY, I was just joking around. No need to start being c-rude!!! 380
♏️ arachnidsgrip Follow
Protagonist!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?
What movie did you watch? 8ecause 8ar8ie is defin8ly the hero of the one I saw, hooves-for-8rains.
♈️ apocalypsearisen Follow
i liked the 0ne with the b0mb m0re
♒️ caligulasaquarium Follow
rustblood, opinion disregarded
♋️ carcinogeneticist
BLATANT HEMOPHOBIA ASSIDE, ARE WE JUST GOING TO IGNORE OP'S URL?
♊️ twinarmageddons
forget that, cc ii2 the ACTUAL HEIIRE22
♋️ carcinogeneticist
HOLY SHIT, WHO CARES.
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♏️ arachnidsgrip reblogged
♏️ arachnidsgrip
You know, I think the murders were good for me.
♎️ gallowscalibrator Follow
VR1SK4, YOU K1LL3D 31GHTY-31GHT P3OPL3.
♏️ arachnidsgrip
Yeah, 8ut I'm over it now. It doesn't effect me anymore.
#I've moved on.
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♉️ adiostoreador reblogged
💽 turntechgodhead Follow
man i cant believe troll steve jobs died of ligma
♉️ adiostoreador
wHO, uM, wHO'S TROLL STEVE JOBS?
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jonnywaistcoat · 3 months
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Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.
To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.
On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.
But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.
At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.
As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.
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cy-cyborg · 2 months
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Toph Beifong doesn’t hold up as disability representation - Disability in the Media
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[ID: A screenshot of Toph, a twelve-year-old girl with black hair in a loose, green and tan short-sleeve shirt and shorts, cheering in an arena. Next to text written in a rough, blocky font: "Disability in Media - Toph Beifong Doesn't hold up as disability representation" /End ID]
Avatar the Last Airbender is one of my all-time favourite TV-shows, and Toph is still easily one of my favourite members of Team Avatar. I was a few years younger than Toph when the show first started airing, and being a disabled kid who was into martial arts, constantly being dismissed by my able-bodied opponents and teachers, meant that I connected very strongly with her right from the get-go.
But upon my last couple of rewatches of the series, I began to come to the realisation that my opinions on Toph as a shining example of good disability representation were... well, pretty heavily influenced by my nostalgia for the show and that many aspects of Toph's character just don't hold up today. Which, honestly is fair, the show is nearly 19 years old (if it were a person in my country, it would be old enough to drink) and I think it's pretty ridiculous to expect every part of every character from an 19 year old show to age well. So today I wanted to talk about the things I think Avatar the original Last Airbender did right with Toph, where I think they missed the mark, and what changes I think would need to be made to Toph to make her work for a modern audience.
So let's start with why I think Toph doesn't really hold up as "good disability representation" today, and the elements of her character that just haven't aged as well.
For me, one of the biggest issues I noticed upon rewatching the show, is how often we are told (often by Toph herself) that she is blind, but how infrequently we are actually shown it's impact on her life beyond her bending or outside of jokey contexts. Outside of her bending, we only ever see her blindness impacting her ability to do things like read or write, otherwise, she functionally has full vision -so far as the audience is informed - with the only exceptions being when she's in the air or water (e.g. on Appa or in the submarines) or in loose soil (e.g. the desert). Having places and circumstances where she doesn't have access to her power that allows her to "see" was a step in the right direction, but I do think it would have been better if her seismic sense wasn't quite as accurate, even in the most ideal of circumstances.
But why? Well, I think Suki explains it really well, long before Toph is even introduced. when Sokka says "I should have seen you as a warrior instead of a girl" Suki stops him and says "I am a warrior, but I'm also a girl". Being a warrior and a woman are both important parts of Suki's character, and only recognising her as one or the other means ignoring a big part of who she is, and the same is true for Toph. Being blind is a big part of toph's character that has informed a lot of her life, but so is being a warrior and bending master. Many people see Toph as a warrior or fighter, but ignore her disability, but both are important. She's disabled, and a warrior, and those things don't cancel each other out, the same way being a warrior doesn't diminish Suki's status as a woman.
When the show was still airing though (and even still today) it was very common to see non-disabled fans of the show exclaiming that they honestly forget that Toph is even blind sometimes, with many people going so far as to say that she's not even disabled (and that this was a good thing). While I do think some of that comes from the fact they weren't used to seeing a disabled character as both disabled and an active participant in these kinds of stories, I do think this mostly happened because of the show's lack of, well, showing the impact of her blindness on her daily life and allowing her earthbending and seismic sense to erase the effects of her disability to some extent. It's much harder to forget a character is blind when it impacts their daily life in ways that are shown to the audience. This doesn't have to be in big, showy ways mind you, showing things subtly but consistently works way better than one "very special episode" type setup.
In the show as it is though, the seismic sense functionally gives Toph a perfect image of her surroundings until it's just not available anymore for *plot reasons*.
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[ID: A black and white shot of Toph and how she sees the oponent she's fighting, with shockwaves radiating from him towards her to indicate how she's interpreting the scene. Her foe has jumped into the air and now has his hand dug into the ground of an arena, about to launch rocks towards her. /End ID]
In many ways, her picture of the world is better and clearer than what the non-disabled characters can see, leading to this feeling of her disability being erased. It may have been better though if the seismic sense could give her a general idea of big things in her immediate vicinity but she still missed the finer details, functioning at least a little bit more like a tactile/earthy-vibration version of the limited sight some legally-blind people have in real life. Things like a person's position, movement and overall pose would still be "visible" to her in a general sense, as well as big things in the environment (including things underground, since there are a few plot-points that require that), but smaller things like details about objects and creatures, people's facial expressions or what they're doing with parts of their body that have no direct contact with the ground (like their hands) is less clear. On top of this, she may struggle to detect smaller, lighter objects or creatures that realistically wouldn't cause much of a vibration at all. creatures as small and as light as Momo and Hawky for example might be detectable, but "fuzzy" to her, and anything smaller might make enough of a vibration to tell her it's there when it moves, but not enough for her to be able to tell what specifically it is without some other cue (such as sound). There are a few moments in the show that seem to imply this is what they were initially going for, but it's not really consistent, and is directly contradicted in her debut episode, "the blind bandit" when she explains that she can even "see" something as small as the ants off in the distance.
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[ID: A shot of Aang, a twelve-year-old bald boy with an arrow tattoo on his head, dressed in a yellow and orange outfit, standing with Toph at night. In the foreground is an anthill will a trail of ants, which Aang is looking for. /End ID]
With an adjustment like what I'm suggesting though, she still serves her narrative purpose of teaching Aang the importance of being able to wait and listen - possibly even more so, as her needing to wait and collect more information in order to get a clearer image before striking, would back-up what Bumi tells Aang that he needs in an earth bending master. It would also still help to illustrate the connectedness of the world, a theme Toph continues to embody heavily in The Legend of Korra, while still showing the ways her disability impacts her more frequently.
When I talked about the "super-crip" trope a while back, I mentioned that one way to avoid the more harmful elements of the trope (where the character's disability is erased by their powers) is to use the ability in question more like a mobility or disability aid than a straight-up cure. The power should help them, but shouldn't make their disability redundant. People are creative and we would find ways to use a superpower or magic to help with our disabilities if it were available in real life, but what's the point of including a disabled character if you're just going to functionally erase their disability? For a character like Toph, I think this is the kind of approach that should be taken with her. Her seismic sense still helps her, but it's not a perfect replacement. (Ironically, I did use Toph as a "good" example of that trope, but I do think after this last rewatch, for the reasons I'm discussing here, I might have to backtrack that a bit).
I considered giving an alternative approach here, to keep the sensitivity of toph's seismic sense as it is in the show as is, but giving it draw-backs such as making her susceptible to sensory overload similar to what autistic people experience. However, while replacing one disability with another can work for some characters and stories, I don't think it's the best adjustment to make for Toph or any blind character, largely thanks to this also being a trope. The "blind (or d/Deaf) person who's other senses become super-human to make up for it" trope is very common in fantasy, sci-fi as well as older martial arts films, and while I'm not really the best person to cover it, I do know that members of both the blind and deaf communities have expressed a lot of frustration with it. Toph already falls into this trope quite a bit, and any suggestions I could make would have just dialled that element up to 11, and fixing one problem with another is never a good idea.
Another thing that actually did bug me for a while, even before my most recent rewatch of the show, is how Toph is treated on the rare occasions she does point out something won't working for her. There are a number of times where Toph advocates for herself and points out that something The Gaang is doing isn't accessible to her or sets a boundary to do with her disability, and she's either left behind, her concerns are brushed off or she's ignored entirely. The three most noticeable examples of this are in the Episodes "The Ember Island Players," "The Library," and Toph and Katara's segment of "Tales of Ba Sing Se."
In the Ember Island Players, Toph complains that the seats they have for the play are too high up and too far away, and she's unable to "see" what's happening on stage. Her friends don't really take any notice of her though except for Katara who tells her not to worry, "I'll tell your feet what's happening."
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[ID: A shot of Katara, a fourteen-year-old girl with long brown hair and blue eyes, sitting with Toph, who is sitting with her arms crossed, annoying in a theatre seat. Both Toph and Katara are wearing red and gold, fire-themed outfits. Katara is looking at something off-screen. /End ID]
My problem here is that this particular kind of situation is something that is familiar to a lot of disabled people. Even the least independent disabled people I know get annoyed when their access needs or requests for accommodations, even among friends, are ignored and their pushback is brushed off with "don't worry, I'll just help you!" It's one of the first things that many disabled people tell non-disabled folks wishing to be better allies to us: you offering help instead of actually accommodating us isn't a good thing. We don't want to rely on others if we can avoid it, because honestly, non-disabled people often aren't very good at actually helping or in this case, relaying information to us without training and more often than not, it just results in us being left out. I find it very hard to believe a character as independent as Toph would accept that without any protest, especially considering that is pretty much exactly what ends up happening (even if the show didn't really acknowledge it). Katara never actually conveys anything about the play to Toph, except when she's attempting to throw Toph's words back in her face when she asks for clarification about the actor playing her - which ends up backfiring on her.
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[ID: A shot from the same location as before, this time Toph has a huge smile on her face and is leaning on the balcony excitedly while Katara is leaning towards her, annoyed by her reaction. /End ID]
While it would have been better if Toph was actually listened to, it would have been…fine? if a justification was given for why they had to sit there (e.g. to avoid being recognised), if Katara had actually described the play for her. This wouldn't have been ideal, but it would have been better at least. In real life, many movies, TV shows (including this show's sequel series, The Legend of Korra) and other forms of visual media have an Audio Description track that does exactly that. If they weren't going to move for Toph to be able to see better, having Katara describe the play could have introduced kids to the fact this is an option. but instead it's brushed off, and I'll admit, it left a bit of a bad taste in my mouth, even back in 2006.
The Library is a bit more forgivable in my opinion, since Toph is still new to the group, but in this episode, she states that she doesn't want to go inside the spirit library because she isn't able to read and therefor there wouldn't be anything for her to do. However, it still would have been nice to see her friends consider this at all before they actually arrived. They could have (and should have) still gone, but some acknowledgement that they at least thought about the inclusion of their disabled friend would have been nice.
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[ID: A shot of Aang, Katara, Sokka and another man are talking while looking down at a map on the table. Meanwhile, Toph is sitting on the other side of the table, completely disinterested as she sips from a large ice cup with her feet up on another chair. /End ID]
Alternatively, I do feel like Wan Shi Tong, a self-proclaimed all-knowing-spirit or his assistants would have been able to point her in the direction of something to interest her, since he does imply books aren't the only form of knowledge he collects.
The reason I mention this though is two-fold. In real life, disabled people are very often left out of "fun" group activities, whether that be in formal settings or in casual ones, like hanging out with friends. If the episode had been framed as "the Gaang learns about the library and decides to track it down," I might have been less critical, but it's specifically framed as something that at least starts out as a kind of break for the team where they all take turns picking out fun things to do so they can rest, and Toph's access needs not being considered at all until they're already there hits a bit close to home, especially since they just end up leaving her outside. Secondly, there's also a stereotype that disabled people (and especially blind people) don't belong in academia and places of learning, such as in this case, libraries. This stereotype is about as old as the concept of organised institutions of learning, and definitely isn't unique to AtLA, but the assumption is often that disabled people wouldn't be interested in more formal methods of learning, so it's not worth accommodating us. With blind people in particular, when I've seen this in media, the premise is often "well I can't read anyway so why bother?" which Toph definitely falls into here with no push-back against the trope.
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[ID: A close up of Toph and the rest of the group, Katara, Sokka and Aang standing in a desert. Toph shrugs, looking bored, while the others looks confused and surprised with the exception of Katara, who looks mildly annoyed, standing with her hands on her hips. /End ID]
It does make sense that she would have been resistant to going in, and I'm not saying this episode should have turned Toph into a bookwork akin to Wings of Fire's Starflight (another blind character) or anything. But there was a chance in this episode to push back against some of these assumptions, and I think it's a shame they missed it. How cool would it have been if Toph had mentioned not feeling welcomed in more formal learning spaces because of her disability, which was just reinforced by the way her old earthbending instructor and her parents treated her. She decides to go inside the library anyway as "backup" in case something goes wrong, grumbling about it the whole way down. Wan She Tong starts his introduction mostly the same way, saying humans aren't welcome and Toph makes a snarky comment about it. Wan She Tong, equally offended that this human thinks he, the all-knowing-spirit, wouldn't have considered something, shoots back with an annoyed comment about humans being so self-centred. He explains that spirits come in all shapes and sizes, and not all of them have eyes, but they can still access his library. She's not the first sightless being in his study, and he-who-knows-ten-thousand-things knows this too. Once everyone is permitted entry, one of the knowledge seekers shows her to a series of slates about a lost earthbending form that she can actually read (or at least, "see" the pictures on) because it's carved. Or instead of a slate, it's a series of statues outlining the form, similar to what Aang and Zuko find in the episode "The Firebending Masters". Perhaps this form is something that helps her develop metal bending later on, and lays the groundwork for Toph becoming interested in teaching in the comics.
And finally, Toph and Katara's segment of Tales of Ba Sing Se. Katara convinces Toph to go get a makeover with her as part of a girl's day. Overall, this segment of the episode is pretty nice, and I liked that they showed that a person's gender expression (in this case, being a tom-boy) doesn't mean they can't like things outside of what we usually associate with that. Tom-boys can like girly things on occasion, and vice-versa, and I think this is an example of an episode that would seem a bit ham-fisted today, but honestly, was needed in 2006. However, there's a throw away joke where Toph says "as long as they don't touch my feet," and it immediately cuts to show spa workers filing down the calluses on her feet in a way so painful several staff are required to hold her down.
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[ID: An image of Toph in a bath robe being held down in a chair by two spa workers while a third scrubs at her feet so hard that she is sweating. Meanwhile Toph is fighting against the two holding her down and has a facial expression like she is in a great deal of pain. /End ID]
this might be a minor thing in the grand scheme of the show, but it's still another example of Toph's boundaries about her disability and her access needs being disrespected by her friends, which the show just doesn't acknowledge it at all. People ignoring Toph's wishes about a part of her body she depends on in a much more direct way that others do is played off like a joke in a montage of otherwise enjoyable and goofy activities and this is a very, very common experience in disability circles.
There are a number of other, much more minor issues that show up with Toph as well, such as the fact she's the only one of the main cast who never has an on-screen (or on-page) relationship. not in the original show, not in any of the comics and not in The Legend of Korra. Again, it's not a big issue on it's own, especially because in AtLA, she's young enough where it's possible that she was just not interested yet, and she does have kids in The Legend of Korra where she mentions a relationship with a man named Kanto (Lin's father). So it is implied she does have some form of relationship eventually, but the issue is that it's never shown on screen or on the page. This feeds into a wider pattern in media of disabled characters being the only ones in their respective cast not given on-screen romantic relationships in stories, and so I still think it's worth pointing out, especially since the creators have had a lot of opportunities to correct that by now.
Toph is also portrayed, pretty much undeniably, as the best earthbener in a way that, at times, comes across almost like the creators felt like they need to compensate for her being on the team "despite" her being blind. This trope is one that I think Toph, at least partially, helped to popularise with the current generation of story tellers: The Disabled Savant. In this trope, disabled characters aren't really given the same room for growth as other characters; they aren't permitted to be average or still learning, they start good and get better. If they do progress, they often become the best, which is the case for Toph. To be fair, everyone in the The Gaang is the best at their respective skill by the end of the first series, which is why I say this is a minor point. She dose, however, have the least amount of on-screen growth in skill out of the whole team. Katara starts out barely able to lift any water at all, let alone actually bend it. Sokka is skilled with weapons from the start but does get his butt handed to him a number of times by others with more experience than him whom he learns from throughout his story arc. Zuko spends most of the early-to-middle of the show having things "blow up in his face" (to use his own words) and being belittled by his family of prodigies. While Aang is an airbending and, to a lesser extent, waterbending prodigy, he fails at pretty much everything else for a while before he starts to find his confidence - especially earth and firebending, not to mention the entire situation with locking himself out of the Avatar state. Toph is the only one who doesn't seem to fail or struggle all that much from a combat perspective. She does grow and improve in her bending (she invents metal bending after all) but she never has any moments where she really messes up or even struggles in combat all that much compared to the others.
All of these points and criticisms I've mentioned are not necessarily big in and of themselves, but when looked at together, they build up to create some issues with how Toph is depicted and how the people around her treat her disability
So that's it then? Toph is bad disability rep and Avatar should be "cancelled"?
God no. Like I said at the start, I still adore Toph and Avatar as a whole, but the show is a year away from being two decades old, it's bound to have some elements that don't hold up and I think it's worthwhile discussing them, specifically because I love the show and it's characters. Despite all the negativity I've brought up, I do think there are a lot of things AtLA did well with Toph too.
I've mentioned a few times that we rarely see how Toph's blindness impacts her life outside of her bending and combat abilities, and there's a reason I made that specification. Unsurprisingly, if you know much about the show's development, the ways in which Toph’s blindness and seismic sense impacts her bending and fighting style is one area where the show really does shine, and I still think that is worth a mention. The various types of bending are based on different styles of martial arts, specifically, different types of Kung Fu. Most earthbending in the show takes heavy inspiration specifically from Hung Ga, but Toph is different. Her bending heavily references Southern Praying Mantis Kung Fu, something unique to her within this world.
The reason for this (outside of simply wanting her to be visually distinct) was because the show’s creators made sure to consider what limitations Toph might have and what parts of the more common earthbending styles wouldn't work for her. Since her connection to the earth was critical in order for her seismic sense to work, they decided on a style that would keep her feet on the ground more, prioritised strong stances with minimal jumping and put more focus on attacking with her upper body. While not an intentional choice, the style they went with for Toph, according to the show's head martial arts consultant, Sifu Kisu, was supposedly developed by a blind woman in real life, at least according to legend. The creators also made further adjustments to the style with the help of martial arts consultants and just watching Toph fight is evident that a lot of love and care was put into the decisions made on that front.
I also appreciate that Toph's disability wasn't off-limits to joke about.
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[ID: A picture of Toph waving her hand in front of her face with an exaggerated smile to remind the others she's blind. /End ID]
As I already mentioned, they didn't land 100% of the time, but lot of shows are afraid to use disability as a source of jokes, which would have felt weird and out of place in a show like Avatar. I see this hesitance in real-life too; people get extremely uncomfortable when I joke about my own disabilities and I've heard several people and even disabled comedians talk about the same observation. My last video on Tik Tok that got outside my usual audience was a joke about my prosthetic leg, and every single stictch and duet I received was people saying some variation of "I'm such a bad person for laughing!" "I'm going to hell!" or just straight up asking if they're aloud to laugh. If I didn't want you to laugh, I wouldn't have posted the joke! But joking about disability does make it more approachable. Despite how often Toph and the others made blind jokes though, outside of the one instance I mentioned earlier, they never felt mean-spirited or like they were punching down. Even when a very sleep-deprived Katara was intentionally trying to be.
I think it's also worth keeping in mind the context of the media landscape when Avatar The Last Airbender was airing. Today, characters like Toph are very common, so much so there's a whole trope about them (super-crips) but at the time, having a character with a major disability be a main character in an action-orientated kids show like Avatar was really rare. She wasn't the first of course, but a lot of the time, if they were included, they were almost certainly sad and depressed, wishing for a cure or they were designated to the roles of "Guy in the chair" (which is a character, usually a tech person, who helps from the background), inspiration, scary villain fake-out (or other variations of "creepy" character) or the actual villain. Having a character that was not only comfortable in her skin as a disabled person, who didn't want or need to be "fixed" or "cured" to be directly involved in the story, and who's main obstacle (at least in season 2) were how the people around her treated her, was pretty ground-breaking at the time (pun not intended) and went against the most prevalent stereotypes of it's day.
And I really want to emphasise that. For many Millennials and older Gen Zers, myself included, Toph was the first character that didn't tell us we were broken and needed to be fixed in order to be part of the group (even if they slipped up with that messaging occasionally). Prior to seeing Avatar, I honestly thought there was something deeply wrong with me for being happy with my life (a reminder, I was 10 years old when this show first started airing), because every other disabled person in the media only ever talked about how much worse their life was because of their disability, how much they hated it and how much they hated themselves. Many outright said that they wished they had died rather than become like me. Toph wasn't the first to go against those tropes, but she was the first example of a disabled character who wasn't like that many people my age saw. Did she do it perfectly? Hell no, but personally, back then, I was happy to have a character who maybe over-corrected and took things a bit too far than another sad character talking about how lives like mine weren't worth living.
I also deeply appreciated that Toph did struggle with her independence, at least initially, and where to draw the line with accepting help. Because of how much she'd been coddled and overprotected as a little kid, she saw any attempt at people being helpful and working as a team as them trying to baby her. It was very on the nose, but I liked that the show gave her an episode just dedicated to realising that it's ok to accept help. Again, this is a bit of a story telling trope today, but having the disabled character realise that it's ok to accept help, and to do it without talking down to them or saying that them wanting independence was bad, was a refreshing change compared to what was around at the time.
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[ID: a zoomed out image of Toph, standing before her parents with Aang, Katara and Sokka standing behind her. /End ID]
While I think the show's creators could have benefited from consulting with disabled people and specifically blind people the same way they brought in consultants for the martial arts featured in the show, it's very clear to me that the intention behind Toph's character was good, and that actual effort was put in to make sure they depicted her well, even if some of it was a bit misplaced. It's also worth noting that the groundwork for a lot of my suggestions is already in place, they just didn't follow it all the way through. Overall, I'd say Toph was good for her time, and she's what was needed in the 2000's, even if she doesn't hold up as well today. I also think it speaks to how far we've come in terms of disability representation. When I first started engaging with the online fandom directly, almost no one, even other disabled people, argued that Toph wasn't good representation, because honestly, the bar was on the floor and we were just happy to have something different. But now there are options, and the standards are higher, and that's so, so good. It means that people, even in the media, are starting to listen and be more thoughtful about their depictions of disability than we were in 2006.
And finally, I want to really quickly mention The Netflix adaptation of Avatar. A few people have asked me now what I think they should do with Toph when they get to her, and what my predictions about the show are. I'm not going to talk about my predictions here, because this post is already way too long and that's not what this is about, but I don't think the suggestions I made today would necessarily work in this particular remake, primarily because of the tonal differences. Some adjustments definitely could, such the other characters doing a better job at listening to Toph when she points out inaccessibility and them actually considering her in the first place, but others might be harder to balance. The original show could get quite dark and serious at times, but it was primarily a light-hearted adventure story for kids. From what I've seen of the live action remake though, they're more heavily leaning into those serious elements - for better or for worse, and as such, trying to tone Toph down in the specific ways I mentioned might not balance out as well as it would in the original show. At the very least, the specifics would need to be different. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what approach they should take, that's not really the point of this post, but I did want to quickly address it to avoid confusion. My suggestions today were specifically on how to approach the cartoon version of Toph for a modern audience, and were not meant to be read as suggestions on how her live-action counterpart should be depicted.
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egophiliac · 27 days
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Hi there! I really love your comics and how expressive they are. How do you go about making the characters in your comic so expressive?
thank you! 💚💜💚 I am REALLY bad at explaining things, so my apologies if this doesn't make a lot of sense, but maybe there's something helpful in here somewhere. :')
1. warm up! drawing is a physical activity, after all! so if I'm planning on sitting down and drawing for a while, I usually start off by taking a couple of minutes to doodle a bunch of circles and lines and random shapes, just to get my drawing arm goin' again and get back into the physical groove. just stuff like this:
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and just do that for however long you feel like! you can kind of feel when your arm starts to loosen up and your strokes get more confident. it makes it a lot easier to get those swoopy big lines and gestures!
2. play around with how you use your lines! paying attention to the shapes that they're making will change a lot about how much force and life your drawing feels like it has. (no way is better than another, it just depends on what effect you're going for and how it looks as part of the larger whole.)
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and you can also use lines against each other to get different vibes:
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it's not really a matter of "you need to make sure all your lines are always doing this all the time", it's more like...being aware of it, and getting that into the general thrust of a pose, if that makes sense? like a lot of smaller lines of action, beyond the big one that goes through the spine.
(just gonna use my own art as examples, apologies)
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if you have a good foundation of tension, then all of the little bumps and contours of a character's details won't get in the way of it, and it'll still come through.
and don't forget about negative space either! the spaces between things have their own interesting shapes too!
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I don't mean this to come off as, like, all these extra things that you need to be constantly thinking about and stressing over. more like...just try different stuff and then see how it works and how it changes the feeling! if you find a good shape, see if you can exaggerate it and make it more interesting, and how that affects things! angles and shapes are a LOT of fun to experiment and mess around with, especially when you're going more cartoony. :D
3. acting!
just...spending a little time to think about what the characters are actually doing! (aka the "figuring out what everyone is doing with their hands" bit.) this is more a personal preference, but especially in multi-panel comics, I like to have them be in the middle of doing stuff. not just big actions, but smaller things -- like even just how they're sitting or standing -- so that it feels like we're looking in on the middle of a scene, instead of a couple of characters just standing around neutrally and staring straight ahead while talking at each other.
this probably sounds really obvious, but it is one of the most fun parts for me! I love trying to find some little action or something that they can be involved in, especially if it's relevant to their character or adds an extra joke. (for some reason this usually involves me being mean to Sebek) (I'm sorry)
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it doesn't need to be everyone Always! Doing! Something! all the time, especially if starts becoming distracting (sometimes they do actually need to just be standing around neutrally and staring straight ahead, especially if there's a bigger action going on that you want the audience to focus on instead). but even just figuring out some kind of non-neutral pose for them to be in can add a lot and make it feel less generic!
3. thumbnailing!
this is, again, very much a personal preference; unfortunately, every artist really is different, and we all have different processes that work better for us. so I can only speak to my personal experience! but I find what helps is to start REALLY rough -- not so much as in messy, as in not trying to start right into actually drawing everything out. like, literally just starting with stick figures and :O faces.
it probably doesn't sound relevant when talking about Drawing Expressively, but I find it's really, really helpful to have already figured out what everyone should be doing (acting!) and what the overall general layout and flow of things should be, before getting into the actual meat of drawing the characters. like having a sketch for the sketch!
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(good compositional flow is something I struggle with, and text layout especially, so this stage also helps a LOT with making sure things are fitting where I want them and staying consistent/not breaking screen direction/etc.)
then after that, I can go ahead and focus on getting those Shapes and Lines and Angles and all that, without having to think too much about the layout or where things should go!
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(of course, the downside of that is that my thumbnails are usually way better than my actual drawings, alas alas.)
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4. this is more philosophical, but...give yourself some slack. the stress of Making Things Look Good is, ironically, often the biggest problem. (see: thumbnails looking better than the actual drawings.) so...let yourself draw shittier and without regards to accuracy. make things just for yourself without thinking about posting or showing them to anyone else. draw stupid faces and wrong proportions because they feel better that way. focus on what's fun and not on getting a perfect end result. "draw expressively, not well", as they say -- you can always tighten up things like proportions and details later, if you really want to.
that's all WAY easier said than done -- god knows I haven't really managed it -- but even just aiming for that attitude really, REALLY helps. if your lines are confident, they'll look a lot more alive and expressive than lines that are exactly technically precise but have no rhythm in them. (this is why tracing photographs tends to look so weirdly stiff and unrealistic, by the way -- even if you're drawing realistically, you usually need to exaggerate and stylize a little bit so it doesn't look lifeless.) it's a balance between caring about what you draw, but also being willing to let things go a little bit.
↑ I hope some of this helps! I don't know if any of this was actually what you had in mind, let alone much of it actually made sense outside of my head. :') but hopefully you (or other people) will be able to get something out of it!
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randombush3 · 2 months
Text
(extremely talented, creative) stalker
alexia putellas x reader
based on this and a poem from when i was little. i chose alexia because she fit the character more and i rushed this immensely because i was being pestered for attention by multiple creatures. oh and i went for something decently light-hearted bc these hozier fics have been affecting my soul and ruining my spotify daylists.
happy monday people x
p.s. not proof-read because it's lunchtime and i'm hungry (edit: i just did my proof-read now and i've realised that it was in fact not lunchtime??? it was past lunchtime and i was just zoned out!)
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Alexia doesn’t care much for art. Sure, she admires the effort, the time such talent sits behind a canvas and marks something that was once blank until others begin to value it. She agrees with the masses about the beauty of quaint watercolour paintings of the coast, and she lets Mapi rave about charcoal and graphite and oils as if she understands what is so special about the varying media. 
She knows she is only here today because the art is about sports. The gallery seems almost reluctant to allow the athletes in, worried they have brought with them their football boots and cones to dribble around, but it would be bad practice to prohibit the muses from the collection. She isn’t an idiot, though, and she knows that no amount of forced reading about the artist and other sophisticated matters will slip her seamlessly into the crowd. 
There are lots of people; people she has never heard of, but make it clear they are far superior to her by the way in which their eyes politely drop to the tattoos inked onto her calloused hands. Their skin is soft, accustomed to the stems of crystal champagne flutes, and the drawings that hold so much personal meaning to the footballer are scrutinised to the point of silent… offence.  
So much for appreciators of art, she thinks to herself, counting down the minutes until it is acceptable for her to leave. 
With a huff and a vow to never – no matter how much she earns – forget where she has come from, Alexia staggers, uncomfortable in these particular heels, towards the painting she deems easiest to understand. 
It is the largest in the room: deep, crimson reds on top of familiar greens, streaks of gold falling out of a ponytail. 
Call Alexia egotistical, but anyone would be drawn to a painting of themselves. 
The artist has done a good job, she guesses, not entirely sure if there is a deeper meaning behind the grass stains on her socks or the crumpled shading of her Spain jersey. It is a little creepy that someone she does not know has captured her likeness so expertly, so practised. 
“The nose isn’t quite right,” a voice says beside her. 
Alexia turns in surprise, amused enough by the stranger’s observation to examine her painted face, eyes not drawn from how majestic her image is beginning to seem. She sees no obvious issue, and so she replies, “I think it’s fine.” 
“Just fine?” 
She is still staring at herself, now impressed by the grandeur of the painting; its size, its quality. “Well, I am unsure how someone painted me so accurately when I was never called in for a… I don’t know, a consultation? And it seems a little weird to me that my hair is loose, because I tend to slick it back so it doesn’t fall out of my ponytail, and, you know, I always have something written on my boots, but otherwise, it’s fine. I doubt anyone here has ever watched a football match, so none of this will matter to them.” 
“It doesn’t bother you that someone might pay millions for a painting that you have deemed not-quite-right?” 
The voice is somewhat too interested, and suddenly Alexia swivels around to face its owner properly, worried she has spoken her mind to a journalist. 
“Those millions go to a charity that will improve women’s sports every–” 
You are definitely not a journalist, although once, when art really wasn’t paying, you had off-handedly typed out a few articles for one of the bigger galleries. 
Alexia knows you are not a journalist because you are dressed to be in front of the cameras, not behind them. 
Your hands hang by your sides, but in a rather unnatural manner as though you are itching to do something else, and she is briefly overcome by the horror that you seem elegant enough to be a potential buyer. Has she put you off? 
“Oh,” you interrupt, “don’t be so profound. Sometimes you footballers sound like change-making machines.” 
“There is change to be made,” she responds indignantly. 
“Hence the exhibition,” you allow with a little smirk, nodding towards the rest of the room. Although the biggest of the collection, you had asked for your painting to be displayed in the corner; a filter, in a sense, to ensure no one throws money at the largest thing in the room just because they can. “It creeps you out to be painted?” 
The question is curious, but Alexia no longer feels like she has been caged in an interrogation room. 
She thinks about her answer for a moment, torn between returning to gaze at the expanse of the scene in front of her or staring at you, wondering if you count as one of the works of art on display. 
“I have never met the artist,” she explains neutrally. You laugh, and it sounds infused with champagne and nervousness. “What? It’s like having a stalker. An extremely talented, creative stalker, but someone who studies me in secret nonetheless.” 
“No, I understand. She must have researched you until the ends of the Earth.” 
“The artist is a woman?” She isn’t sure she is surprised, but she asks you anyway, wanting to anchor you to the spot. 
“Alexia, this is an exhibition for women’s sports.” Your point is valid, but you have said her name and she is far more intrigued by the way that had sounded to praise you for your intelligence. You let out an airy breath and click your tongue. “I’d even say, given by the way she has painted you from the back, that the artist fancies you.”
“It’s the squats,” she easily replies with a giggle. “Who is the artist?” 
You take a step towards her, the sharp points of your heels clacking against the concrete floor. She follows your index finger to the white plaque beside the canvas, reading the name written in small, black letters. 
“I haven’t heard of her.” 
Alexia sounds so thoughtful that you have to hide your smile behind your palm, coughing to provide an excuse for the action. 
“Because you’ve heard of quite a few artists, haven’t you?” 
“I know the main four.” 
“The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?” 
“No.” 
Again, you laugh, and it is melodious and rich and Alexia wants to hear it for the rest of her life. Which is not normal, she tells herself, because you are some loaded stranger and she is only here for another hour before she can escape back to the pitch and her teammates who like her tattoos and admire her and respect her hard work without seeing her as some tacky social-climber who scrounged an invite to an area of society where she is institutionally unwanted. 
“Picasso,” she then offers, rather petulantly, looking at you with a childish frown. In her head, she estimates the distance between your bodies, noticing how you have not returned to your original position. 
“Ah, well done. He’s quite niche.” She doesn’t appreciate the teasing, and so she steps sideways to… put a stop to it somehow. Obviously, the plan had never truly been formulated, and it comes across as a half-lunge to push you away, but then you are swinging your arms as though the conversation is boring you and she desperately wishes you’d stay put. 
“What do you think about the painting?” she fires into the shortened space between you, the question wrapping around you like a rope that ties you to the spot. 
“It’s boring.” She scoffs, because after all, it is a painting of her. “The poor artist must have been tortured by the task, having to force her eyes to stay open while watching football matches.” 
And if Alexia were not so distracted by the way your swinging hand has begun to brush against her own, she would probably catch you out there and then. 
(But your touch is electric and she is otherwise engaged.) 
“Like, come on, can’t the sports photographers just get their pictures blown up? No one needs such an outrageously huge portrait of Alexia Putellas in their home, or stadium, or whatever. I reckon the artist is now regretting the angle she painted from, anyway, in case some pervert with more money than sense bids for it and hangs it up in his bedroom.” 
“Bedroom?”
The tips of Alexia’s ears go red, a stark contrast to the expensive silver hoops she sports, and you stop your fidgeting, hand resting on top of hers – perhaps unintentionally – as her misunderstanding wedges an awkward pause into the middle of your rant. 
“Sorry,” you apologise, “that was probably not the best thing to say, considering it’s a painting of you.” 
Alexia runs through what you have said, hoping her subconscious has caught it while her mind was preoccupied with what your sexual orientation might be. “Why have you come here if you are so against the principle of it?” 
“I was required to,” you explain, through half-gritted teeth and a jaw that tenses with leftover annoyance from a conversation you had with the coordinator. 
Seizing the opportunity to get a humorous punch back, Alexia quickly fumbles out a, “someone’s important.” 
She’d celebrate her victory over you, the way you blush in embarrassment, if you hadn’t started anxiously playing with her fingers. Suddenly, the air that bridges the gap between you is set alight and Alexia stares at where you are connected. 
You hastily pull away. “Sorry,” you say for a second time. “I have to sell this, and I’m nervous.” 
“Sell wh– The painting?” 
“No, Alexia, I’ve been sent by Real Madrid to hold you hostage so I have to sell this act.” Briefly, fear washes over the footballer’s face, tanned skin paling at the idea that you have a weapon concealed in the satin folds of your dress. Then, your hand makes a decisive movement and your fingers are intertwining with hers before she can run to safety. “I thought it was best to lure you in by flirting with you.” 
“You’ve been… flirting with me?” 
“God, imagine if I actually were here to kidnap you.” You hold up your joined hands so that she can see for herself. “Is your weakness women who bully you?” 
She blushes again, unsure how to handle what you have insinuated. 
Alexia grasps onto what little dignity remains and straightens herself, shoulders rolling back as she emulates the confidence she has been painted with. “Only pretty women,” she drawls. 
She is about to use whichever line appears in her mind first, completely unashamed by it because she has guessed you would tease her no matter what leaves her mouth, but some evil, cruel person clinks a small fork against their glass, clearing their throat, and your hands quickly return to your body, your attention drawn away from the conversation. 
“Thank you all for coming,” announces the event coordinator, clearly gearing up for a speech. “There will be time for more chatting later, but I cannot resist showing off our most talented artist any longer.” 
You roll your eyes. The expression is directed at Alexia, who chuckles privately, sunshine blooming in her chest that you have spared a silent comment just for her. 
“Y/n, darling, where are you?” 
An authoritative gaze searches through the crowd and lands on you.
The dots connect, Alexia begins to feel like an idiot, and you are sashaying away before she can ask you to stay.
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Kiss, Marry, Kill: Part 1/2 (LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader)
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Summary: In which Buggy overhears a private conversation and uses that knowledge against you. Pairing: LA!Buggy the Clown x F!Reader Rating: Semi-explicit. Word Count: ~3k (of 5.3k) Warnings: Clown abuse, strong language, incorrect use of a straight razor.
Never had you on my mind Now you're there all the time Never knew what I missed until I kissed ya
---
By all accounts, Buggy should be having a great time. There's food, alcohol, gambling... hell, there's even a swimming pool. Not that he can partake, but he can live vicariously.
Instead, he's got a whole school of shark eyes trained on him as he sits on a stool next to Arlong's throne. This water park sucks.
He's not chained up or anything. The threat of a couple dozen sets of teeth ripping into him is reason enough to sit perfectly still, keep his mouth shut, and try to look as small as possible. No sudden movements, no change in expression, no—
"Kiss the clown, marry the waiter, kill Pink Hair."
Buggy sits bolt upright and looks around. Who the hell said that?
Arlong doesn't even deign to look at him. "Hear something?"
Clear. Crisp. With a little bit of an accent, maybe. He's heard it somewhere recently, but where?
Certainly not here. It was a woman's voice, and Arlong Park is a bit of a sausage party at the moment. Not that he can tell on sight with fishpeople.
"Answer me, clown," Arlong rumbles.
He forgets who he's talking to for a moment. "Eavesdropping's an art," he snaps. "You can't rush art."
Big mistake. Arlong responds with a low, wet growl. "It's been three days. My patience is running thin."
Quiet chatter. The clinking of silverware. Someone chewing with their mouth open. The little pirates are at a restaurant, it seems.
He relays this to Arlong. He's less than pleased. He enunciates every word to show his teeth. "Care to be more specific?"
A shudder crawls up the back of Buggy's neck. He takes a swig of his drink to cover it. He places his fingers over his remaining ear, straining.
"You're shitting me." That voice he recognizes. The redhead. The one who ruined his show. The one Arlong's so interested in. Nadi? Nani? Noni?
The other woman speaks. "Nami, you rejected him," she says. "Girl Code only applies if you were dating."
Nami. That's her, the conniving little bitch. "No, not the waiter. I mean you'd seriously kiss the clown? He nearly killed us."
He'd recognize Rubber Boy's voice anywhere, the little shitheel. "And his nose would get in the way."
The mystery woman speaks up again. "That's nothing new. I’ve smacked noses with plenty of guys."
Okay, that narrows it down. It’s not the redhead, it can't be Rubber Boy or the bounty hunter, so that leaves...
...you. Of course it's you. How could he forget you? You're the only one who laughed at Axe-Hand Moron. Granted, it was more like a snnrrrk and you immediately clapped your hand over your mouth, eyes wide with horror, but it was a laugh all the same.
And in that moment, he knew he liked you. Bad sense of humor. Cute smile. A little bashful. He appreciates that. Sure, you helped humiliate him not an hour after the fact, but all's fair in love and piracy.
"Look, I'm not saying it’s a good idea," you continue, "but sometimes you gotta live dangerously."
The bounty hunter speaks, dry and droll. "Storms are dangerous. Bar fights are dangerous. You're just insane."
"Oh, c'mon, you're not seriously gonna hold Fu..." You pause. "Kiss Marry Kill answers against me."
So that's what's going on. "They're just chattering like they always are," he says to Arlong.
Arlong does not like that answer. He snatches Buggy up by the neck, lifting him clear off the ground with only one hand.
"Wait! Wait wait wait! They're still talking! I might have something!" He kicks and struggles, but it's no use.
You speak. "You think everything pops off? ‘Cause a gal could really— hyurk.”
Laughter all around as you’re cut off by something. Sounds like you choked.
“Thank you, Usopp,” Nami says. “I am not having that conversation.”
Arlong saunters over to the pool, carrying Buggy like a ragdoll. He has precious few seconds now. C'mon, he wills them, say something useful!
A slap, a spit, then a couple of hard coughs. “Nice shot,” you wheeze. “Use the unspicy peanut next time. I think I burned my windpipe.”
The new guy — Usopp — scoffs. “Spicy? Please. This isn’t spicy. Baratie spicy is barely a zip. Now, you want spicy, you gotta hit up the Great Pepper Isles. Their chilis are so hot, I had an out-of-body experience.”
And boom, there it is. Right as he's about to be dropped into the water, his ticket to life.
“Baratie! They're at Baratie," he chokes out. "That floating restaurant. That really nice one I got thrown out of, the pricks."
It was Cabaji's fault. Turns out whipping a unicycle out at the bar is frowned upon. Who'd've thunk.
Arlong 'smiles.' All teeth and gums and no mirth at all. "Consult our charts," he says to the nearest fishman. "I'll prepare our compass."
He grabs Buggy by the hair and yanks. In the interest of not getting his neck broken, he separates his head from his body. Unfortunately, gravity takes over and his body plunges into the pool.
Weakness swamps him like a rogue wave. He can't say a word as he's stuffed into a cloth sack and everything goes dark.
In both ears, all he can hear are the sounds of laughter.
---
Someday, Buggy will learn not to run his fat mouth. That day is not today.
Usopp barges into the galley and lobs his head through the air, a low slow toss. He only has a moment to appreciate not being overhand pitched before landing on the floor. Not on his nose, fortunately, but it still hurts.
He points at the blonde guy — Sanji? Sanji. "I can't take it anymore. He's your problem now. I'm going to bed. Goodnight."
He tramps off as Buggy flips himself upright. “What’s his problem?” he asks no one in particular. “Sheesh, you make one ‘your mom’ joke and—“
A decidedly unmanly yelp escapes him as he's popped up into the air. The world spins and turns and he braces himself to hit the ground again, only to be caught in soft hands. He's spun around...
...and comes face to face with you, regarding him with curious, contemptuous eyes.
Oh, you're even prettier up close. The redhead's a looker, but she's still a kid. Soft. Pale. Set like a mousetrap, ready to spring and break some poor chump's neck at the slightest provocation.
But you? You're a grown-ass woman. Comfortable in your sun-kissed skin. A twinkle of experience in your eye and the ease of someone who's been sailing her ship for years.
He can't help but smile. "Well, well, well. Fancy meeting you here, gorgeous," he says with a wink.
From the corner of his eye, he sees Sanji shoot him a glare. Your expression remains cool and uninterested. Shifting his head to your side, you hold him against your hip like a laundry basket. Even through your trousers, the soft swell of flesh warms his cheek.
“Weren't you just on buggysitting duty?” you ask Sanji.
Buggysitting? Really? "I'm right here, y'know," he grumbles.
He's ignored, as per usual. Sanji straightens up and huffs. “New guy always gets the shit jobs.”
“Let’s trade,” you say. “You take my watch and I’ll mind our chatty compass.”
Rude. “I’m still right here.”
Sanji shakes his head. “Go get your beauty sleep. Not that you need it, of course."
Wow, that was a bad line. Buggy makes his displeasure known with a retch.
“Sleep is for people who don’t have coffee.” You flap your hand toward the door. "Shoo.”
Sanji glances between you and Buggy, but heads for the door. "Any trouble at all, love, and I’m a shout away."
A little smile colors your voice. "If he starts gnawing my ankles, you’ll be the first to know."
Sanji returns the smile, sickeningly sweet. As he leaves, you sit at the table, placing Buggy across from you.
He wants nothing more than to plant his leg on a stool, lean in on his knee, and give you a toothy grin. But alas, he must settle for the grin. "Alone at last. Come here often?"
You don't even bother to look at him, too preoccupied with picking up a very shiny straight razor and a strip of leather. Muscle ripples under your skin as you slide the blade back and forth.
"So you're the barber," he says. You don't respond. "Can't imagine you're too busy on a ship with a bunch of babyfaces." Still nothing. "Don't suppose I could get a shave, then? Last time I used a straight razor, I ended up like this!"
"Barber surgeon," you say as you inspect the blade. Dissatisfied with some invisible blemish, you continue stropping.
He shrugs, only to remember he can’t. "Say, doc, I can't feel anything below my neck. Could you take a look?”
Irritation tints your voice. “Not a doctor,” you say. You’ve clearly had to explain this countless times before. “Doctors treat the inside. I fix up the outside.”
“Splitting hairs, Miss Sawbones.”
Shiff shiff shiff goes the razor. "If you don't stop talking, we’re gonna see if cutting off the nose really does spite the face. Might be an improvement for you.”
That’s just low. “Keep talking shit and this bark is gonna turn into bite.”
You finally look up. You level the razor at him, glaring down the blade. “You’re the only one talking, clown.”
Damn. Your eyes are pretty. Warm as the first sunbeam of a summer morning, but dark as the blotches he gets in his eyes when he looks into a spotlight by accident. Hot like one, too. Heat lurks below the dark surface, like warm charcoal about to catch fire.
Nerves ball up in his absent chest. He swallows them and summons his bravado. “Can ya blame me? I’ve got shit else to do. I’ve met parrots with more to say than you.”
"Count the cracks in the ceiling."
"One, two, three—“ He gives an exaggerated groan. “Didn't you say you were gonna make coffee? Can I get in on that?"
You scoff, but you do stand. "Last thing you need is caffeine.”
“The last thing I need is to be held hostage by a bunch of greenhorn nobodies,” he says, "and yet here I am."
“Sucks to suck,” you say. You pull a pot out of a cupboard and fill it with water. “How do you take it? Sugar? Cream?”
“Black. Like my heart.”
You let out that snnnrrrrk of a suppressed laugh again. What a nice sound. “Something we got in common.”
“Black heart or black coffee?”
“Yes.”
Such a simple, easy response. Not even particularly clever. But the delivery with no hesitation, no intonation, no second guessing the punchline. He laughs. “I knew I liked you!”
You glance over your shoulder at him. “You try to kill everyone you like? No wonder you have no friends.”
He hops to the edge of the table. Not an easy feat with only a stump. “C’mon, babe. All’s fair in love and piracy.”
Calling you babe was a blindfolded over-the-shoulder shot in the dark, but it lands. You add a smile to your glance. “I’ll give you that and nothing more.”
Somewhere, miles away, his heart flutters. He lets it. “Will you still give me coffee?”
“Only if you shut up ‘til this water boils.”
In this state, he’ll take any scrap of stimulus he can get. He bites his tongue and bites it hard, willing himself not to speak.
Silence creeps in. Silence leads to stewing, and stewing leads to bad thoughts. Bad feelings. Lonely feelings. Like how long it’s been since he’s had a friendly cuppa joe with someone. Or had someone honestly laugh at his stupid jokes.
Especially not someone as quick as you. Or as pretty. Or with such a nice ass. Or who maybe-sorta-kinda-might-possibly be interested in him. Potentially. Hypothetically.
There’s no damn way, he tells himself. You’re humoring him. You’re definitely shacking up with that cook — young, charming, handsome. Or the bounty hunter, maybe — tall, dark, broody.
You wouldn’t give him a second glance. Him, a pathetic, painted, big-nosed weirdo. Who is currently a severed head. A temporary state, but still not a good first impression. Even though his actual first impression was trying to kill you and your buddies. This second first impression is just as bad.
A sharp groan escapes him before he can stop it. He eyes you, expecting you to snap at him or worse.
But you don’t. You pause in your pouring to peer over your shoulder at him, gaze soft. “Y’alright?”
There goes his heart again. Ugh. “Peachy. That coffee done yet?”
You curl your lip. “What’s got your panties in a knot?”
“Just realized I’m gonna need a straw or some shit.”
Still sneering, you set a shallow mug in front of him. “I’ll see what I can find.”
See? You definitely don’t like him. Stupid fucking jackass, letting his hopes get up. This is what he gets.
…A nice, warm cup of coffee. If you really hated him, you wouldn’t have given him coffee, right? Or be looking for a straw?
You’re just humoring him. You just want to save your friend. Catch more flies with honey and all that. He’ll be more agreeable if you’re friendly.
Across the room, you open a drawer. “Hey, bendy straws. Perfect.”
You’re breaking out bendy straws for him? There’s gotta be something there! At least a little something!
No. No way. Coincidence.
You place an oddly long straw into the mug. He realizes it’s three normal ones jammed end-to-end, creating a pipe ending just about level with his mouth.
You just pulled some engineering shit so he can drink coffee with you. There’s definitely something.
An ice cube plops into the mug and you slide back into the booth with your own cup. “Might dilute it a bit, but can’t have you burning your mouth.”
His distant heart flips again. He has to say something. Before he can convince himself otherwise. He says the first thing that comes to mind.
“So,” he says, “‘kiss the clown,’ eh?”
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. That’s the first thing he thought of? Seriously? He braces himself for boiling coffee thrown in his face.
You freeze mid-sip, brows raised. “Excuse me?”
Okay, you don’t look mad. “Don’t deny it, babe. I heard everything. Kiss Marry Kill? Nice job keeping it kid-friendly, wink wink."
You stare at him with those dark eyes. "No idea what you're on about."
"I know you know. And I know you know I know." He waggles his eyebrows, hoping for a laugh, but he gets nothing.
You watch the steam swirling up from your mug. "What do you want me to say, exactly? That I chose you to kiss?"
"I just wanna know what possesses a woman to make her want to shack up with the guy who tried to kill her and her friends." He lips the straw into his mouth and takes a test sip. Still quite hot.
"Circumstance. Process of elimination. Being put on the spot." You pick up the razor. Your fiddling with it belies your agitation.
"Don't lie to me, babe," he croons. "I can see right through you."
You stare at him. "And what is it that you see?"
What does he see? "A woman on a knife's edge of self-satisfaction and self-destruction. Once bitten, twice shy, but when he comes around the third time, you just can't help yourself."
Your fiddling becomes more insistent. You break eye contact to look at the razor. He's hitting on something. Time to push some buttons.
"You bet on the wrong horse every time. You think it'll be different this time. But it never is." He smiles bitterly. "Something else we got in common. Birds of one ugly feather."
Your gaze softens as you return your gaze to him. "So you found the problem, Doctor Headshrink. What’s the prescription?"
Shoot your shot, Buggy. "Kiss the clown and maybe we'll find out."
You're still for a few moments. Then slowly, carefully, you slide your hand across the table. You pull him closer as you lean lower in your seat to eye level with him.
He can't help the way his breath quickens. It's been so, so long since he had any kind of intimacy. Your reedy fingers trace his jaw down to his chin. Your thumb comes up to pull at his bottom lip, and he lets out a satin-soft whimper as he opens his mouth to you.
You strike like a snake, yanking his tongue out with one hand and readying your razor with the other. His choke turns into a scream as you bring it down, severing his tongue clean at the root.
It's one thing to disconnect body parts. Pop a leg off, drop an ear — he’s used to it. But it's a different story when said part is supposed to be inside of him. His tongue waggles like a fish as he tries to return it to his mouth, but you keep a firm grip.
"You can have this back in the morning," you say.
He wants to cuss you out, but what comes out is ew bihck, whadda fuhck iss won wif ew, gif ih bahck.
You laugh. And lord, what a laugh you've got. Loud, like a party gone late into the hours of the night. Clattery, like a dozen plates shattering on the floor. Full of mirth, like a drunk on payday.
And, for the briefest of moments, his rage is forgotten. He wants to make you laugh like that.
But it returns with a vengeance, replaced with a desire to see you squirm.
---
⬅⬅⬅ | To the "Curious Courtship" Masterpost | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar | ➡➡➡
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astraystayyh · 11 months
Text
nights with hyunjin <3
little fluffy hyunjin fic inspired by the fact he sends good night msgs on bubble at the latest hours. lowercase intended.
2 am
"where do you see yourself in twenty years?" you whisper, buried under the thick white covers with Hyunjin. You can't see his face, but your nose brushes against his and his warm hand is on your back, keeping you close.
"where will you be in twenty years?" he replies instantly and you feel your cheeks heat up at his words.
"hyune, just answer the question," you whine after a few silent beats and he giggles slightly, "i am. doesn't matter where I'll be, as long as you're there."
you draw in a deep breath, suddenly feeling as if his words were keeping you at his mercy, completely unarmed. "you mean it?" you ask, grabbing onto his arm tightly.
"i do," he reassures, bopping his nose softly against yours, "you are my present and future, angel."
3 am
"what are you drawing?" you ask as you enter hyunjin's art studio, two cups of chamomile tea in your hands. you place them down and stand behind hyunjin, who leans his back onto your chest, melting into your touch. you wrap your arms around his shoulders in response, softly kissing the top of his hair. he smells like your shampoo.
"a house," he replies. his left hand wraps around your thigh, grazing up and down the exposed skin. "our house, i hope," he adds quietly and you feel your heart skip a beat.
"ours?"
"mm. wanna buy you a house. with a little garden and a view of the beach."
"i'll plant lots and lots of flowers for us there." you smile, admiring the pastel colors blending seamlessly in his painting.
"just make sure they won't die," he teases and you fake a gasp, "are you underestimating my gardening capabilities?"
hyunjin blindly grabs your arm, spinning you around so you'd sit on his lap.
"nonsense, you are my little florist," he grins cheekily and you touch his cheeks softly.
"these are cute," you tell him, referencing to his now apparent dimples. little pools for you to drown in.
"you are cuter."
"I'm still not over your flowers comment."
"I will kiss you for every flower you plant."
"that's a lot of kisses."
"i know," he smiles at you, his eyes turning into moon crescents. yours.
5 am
"can't believe she still likes him," hyunjin huffs loudly and you laugh, your hand softly threading through his hair.
"it's just a show baby."
"i know but listen," he stands up from between your legs, eyes wide looking into yours, "he just told her he doesn't find her beautiful. who says that to their lover?"
"he's stupid, she's clearly out of his league and he's threatened by that."
"right!" he claps in agreement, "she deserves better."
"she does," you giggle as he lays down again, face now buried in your chest.
"you do know i find you the most beautiful person in the world?" he whispers and your eyes soften at him.
"you tell me."
"but do you know it?"
"i do."
"good, because if you didn't then I'm a horrible boyfriend too," he shudders and you giggle at the horrified look on his face.
"you aren't, my love."
later on that night, while you are brushing your teeth, hyunjin pops his head into the bathroom. "baby," he calls out and you hum in reply.
"you are beautiful," he says and you raise an eyebrow in question at him, mouth full of toothpaste.
"just making sure you don't forget it."
4 am
"I'm getting sleepy," you say quietly. it was nearing four am and hyunjin has been playing with your hair for what felt like an eternity. braiding small sections of it, only to open them once again.
"me too."
"let's try to sleep."
"don't want to," he mumbles against your hair and you chuckle. "why?"
"if we go to sleep then it will be morning really soon which means i have to leave you."
his words make your heart clench in your chest. nights with hyunjin were your favorite parts of your existence. there was no pressure, no expectations on the both of you. you could just be two humans in love, under the kind gaze of the moon.
"okay, baby. what do you want to do?"
"i just want to look at you," he says quietly and you nod, getting away from his hold. you lay your head on your pillow and he does the same, this way you're both facing each other.
you feel yourself relax completely under hyunjin's gaze, because it's filled with love. for you. his pointer finger traces over your features, delicately, as if he was grazing a porcelain vase. and you let him. his touch is so soft it makes something warm stir within your stomach. it wasn't untamed butterflies, fluttering their wings to escape. it was something comfortable and safe, finding its home within you.
"you are so pretty," he whispers and you smile softly at his words.
"so are you." your right hand rises gently to rest on top of his cheek, and you swipe your thumb slowly across it. hyunjin's eyes flutter closed at the contact and you feel a wave of fondness flood within you.
you'd do anything to preserve this serene look on his face.
"try to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up." you finally say.
"you promise me?"
"i promise."
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islayhawkin · 5 months
Text
Capable of love
Ominis Gaunt x f!reader
Summery: Ominis tried to kiss you but it didn't go as planned which brings up insecurities in him.
Hurt/comfort with bit of angst?
Art by @boxdstars
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Ominis burst into the dormitory room. "Sebastian." He snapped. He started to pace nervously around the room.
Sebestian looked at his friend startled. "Oh no. What did I do this time...?" He asked hesitantely.
"For once you didn't do anything. I did. I think I did something very wrong." Ominis couldn't stop his pacing. Self doubt prominent in his voice. Dragging a hand across his face.
Sebastian stood up with a sigh. "Wait ominis. Relax. I'm sure you haven't done anything that severe. Just tell me what happened."
Ominis pinched his eyes. "Promise you won't laugh." He ordered.
There was a moment of silence.
"Sebastian?!" Ominis turned to him in disbelief.
Sebastian took his hands up in defence. "Okay okay. I won't."
Ominis breathed out. "I- I pressed my lips to hers..."
Sebastians eyebrows shot up. "And...?" He asked excited. Ominis could hear the smirk on his face.
Ominis stopped pacing. "And what? Was I supposed to do something else too?" He whispered almost panicked. His usual confident voice had turned into a insecure one. Sebastian wasn't used to seeing him this way.
Sebastian couldn't stiffle a smile forming on his lips. "I can hear you smile sebastian." Ominis said irritably. "This is not funny."
"Sorry. Wait let me get this straight. You tried to kiss her. So you put your lips on hers and did nothing else?"
"Yes? But I think I did it utterly wrong because she didn't react. God I'm such an idiot. I shouldn't have done it." Ominis scrunched his brows in frustration. Sebastian took his friend by the shoulders. Stopping his pacing.
"Okay listen. That's not how kissing works. You have to move your lips. You could suck at her lip and I guess you could stick your tounge into her mouth...that's great..." sebastian trailed off with a smirk.
I look of disgust crossed ominis face. "I don't want to hear about your sexual fantasies sallow. So I did it terribly wrong didn't I?" He went through his hair with his hand. "What should she think of me now?" Sebastian clapped his hand on ominis shoulder. "No. No. Don't worry. I mean you did it wrong..." "not helping." Ominis quipped in. "...but that's no problem. I'm sure she doesn't care."
Ominis frowned angrily. "She'll think I'm a pathetic blind boy. I'm a Gaunt. I'm supposed to know what to do."
Sebastian sat down on his bed with a sigh. "Just talk to her. Or you could give it another try." He shrugged. Ominis turned his body in the direction of his friends voice. "I can't just give it another go. She probably doesn't even want to see me. I need to...apologize. Maybe she'll be able to forget it and we can go back to the way it was." Ominis rambled his thoughts out.
"Did you like it?" Sebastian quipped in. There was silence that filled the room for a moment.
"...What?" asked Ominis stunned.
"Did you like it?" Sebastian repeated. There was a defeaning silence again.
"Yes." Came the hesitant voice of ominis.
                                 ***
Ominis didn't sleep much that night. He already wasn't the best sleeper but the events of the day and his worry about it kept invading his thoughts. His mind came up with every possibility what could happen and what you'd be thinking about him. To the point that his eyes moisted and he had to blink a few times.
He hated not knowing. Not having control. Not being able to see your reaction. He hated himself in this moment for hoping to be loved when he knew he wasn't capable of love.
So he got out of bed, took a shower and headed down to the great hall. It was really early but by the time he sat down there were already a few students up too.
For once he didn't care about the etiquette his family so hurtfully forced upon him. Right know he forget about them for a moment. About the pain he felt from them. Because what he felt now was a different pain. One that made his heart hurt and he didn't know how to deal with it.
                                 ***
As you came down to the great hall too, you dared to glance at him. You noticed immediately that something was wrong with him.
He sat slumped in his seat. Not the usual straight back he was thaught. His hair was touseled and still a bit wet. And dark eyebags were seen under his eyes. Now that wasn't necessarily out of order- his unkempt hair certainly was. You knew that his parents imprinted for him to always look presentable even thought he couldn't see it.
It did worry you. Yesterday he tried to...kiss you. Well you supposed that's what he was trying to do since it didn't really seem like a kiss but more of a...touch. You weren't sure if his intend was to kiss you or if he tried to do something very different and ended up this way. You were simply confused by his action.
On the other side Sebastian nudged his friend next to him. "She's looking at you since a few minutes already."
"Maybe she's looking at you." Ominis mumbled. A bit of red tinted his skin at the picture it brought in his mind. Sebastian snorted. "After that stunt you pulled yesterday I'm sure she's looking at you for a change."
Ominis rolled his glazed eyes. "Will you stop talking about her?" He grumbled angrily. He wished he could see for himself how she was looking at his direction.
"You need to talk to her mate. If you don't I will. I'm sure she's not angry at you. She doesn't look angry." Ominis' mouth pulled together into a thin line. "You will not talk to her. Just drop it." He snapped.
There was a moment of silence as Sebastian glanced at him.
Ominis mumbled a "Sorry." And hastily got up from his seat. He stormed out of the great hall and ignored Sebastians shouts. He just needed to get out of there. Get away from everything. His heart beat painfully in his chest at the idea of talking to you.
With long strodes he made his way to the dungeon were he cowered down in a notch in the wall. He closed his eyes and listened to the silence of the dungeon. Only small noices from changing walls on the other side were heard, which echoed throught the halls.
The stone wall was cold against him but he liked it. He always felt safe in the cold. It meant the warmth couldn't be taken away from him. It meant he wouldn't get punished. He wouldn't feel pain. The more uncomfortable his body felt the safer he was, which let him rest his mind for a moment. Breathing out a long breath.
What had he gotten himself into? He just should've never engaged with this feelings he felt.
He knew letting him act and accept his feelings would have consequences. But he couldn't help himself. The soft touch you gave him shut his logical brain completely off. Your soothing voice made him believe that he could actually be happy. That he could be safe. That he could be...loved.
The reality of his situation came crushing down on him fast. He was a gaunt. He was pathetic. He didn't even know how to kiss. What could he offer her? A blind broken boy to mend, a family who hated her- possibly could harm her. He didn't even dare think about this possibility.
As you saw him storm out of the great hall you decided to speak with Sebastian. You sat down across from him and leaned closer to him.
"Seb do you know what's wrong with ominis?" You asked concerned.
Sebastians mouth quirked into a smile. "Well he told me that you kissed yesterday...?"
You raised your brows. "So that was- he really wanted to kiss me?" Sebastian snorted. "How obvious does he have to make it. What did you think he was trying to do."
You pulled your shoulders up in defence and talked in a hushed tone. "How was I supposed to know what he was trying to do. Maybe he just...thought it was something else."
Sebastian gave you a look and you had to accept that your excuse was terrible. "Okay well he kissed me then. Why does he look so-" you gestured around your head. "Terrible then?" Sebastians playful expression fell. "I think he's struggeling. I've seen him...insecure yesterday. Going on about how he did it wrong." You sighed. "I'm gonna talk to him." Sebastian nodded. "Thank you."
You gave him a small smile and made your way out of the great hall to search for him. Obviously the slytherin area of the castle would be a good point to start.
The echo of your shoes on the dungeon ground made his ears perk up. The rythm of the steps reminded him of yours.
"Ominis?" You asked softly as you found him crouched into the stone wall.
His body tensed up and he held his breath. He swallowed and cleared his throat. "I am very remorseful about my actions yesterday. I do apologize for my inappropriate behavior and promise this won't occur again." His posh accent was more prominent and his voice sounded distant.
You shook your head slowly and sat down across from him in the small nook. "Ominis..." you touched his knee softly which made him flinch. You took your hand back with a sigh. "You don't have to put that distant attitude on. You don't have to apologize for yesterday. What is going on with you?"
"No Y/N I did something very wrong yesterday."
"Why was it wrong?"
"Wha- I shouldn't have. It was a mistake. I didn't think. And I didn't ask for your permisson. And Sebastian told me that I didn't do it right." He forced the words out. It pained him to speak it out loud.
"Did you want to kiss me?" You asked softly.
There was silence and ominis swallowed the lump in his throat. He couldn't lie to you.
"Yes." His voice was unusually unsure of himself.
"Then why was it a mistake?"
"You didn't want it."
"I wanted it. I like you. Of course I didn't mind."
Ominis put his hands in his hair. Making it more touseled. He shook his head. "No. No. You don't want it. You don't want me."
You were stunned for a moment. "What?"
He stood up in frustration. "You don't want me. I am blind. My family is a danger to you. I am pathetic. I am broken. I sleep on the floor at night because...I'm afraid. I don't even know how to bloody kiss. I can't tell you that you look beautiful. I cannot protect you the way I should. I simply cannot give you what you deserve."
There were tears glistening in his eyes. And he was barely able to choke the words out throught the lump in his throat. His hands were trembeling at his side. His chest rising and falling rapidly.
You stood up as well to get closer to him. "Ominis...what are you talking about. I don't care about these things. I like you the way you are. You don't have to be any other way to deserve me. I will sleep on the floor with you. We'll just put our lips together if you want to kiss that way. I only care about you."
You put your hands on his cheeks. In your own eyes were tears too from the pain you saw him in. He tensed under the touch but didn't pull away.
"Please don't see yourself that way. You are worth so much more Ominis. You are enough. You deserve me." You tried to reassure him.
A tear rolls down his cheek onto your hand. "I'm not capable of love. I will do something wrong. I don't know how to love. How to accept love."
"You love sebastian and anne and you love me. You are capable. I'll show you. I'll show you what love means."
You kissed his nose softly and pulled him into a thight embrace. He shook slightly in your arms. "It's okay." You tried to soothe him. A hand gently caressing over his slender back.
Touch had always meant pain for him. But your gentle touch made him forget about it for a moment. Your touch felt so different. So loving.
Ominis felt utterly loved in this moment.
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