"One Day, I'll See You Fall."

I AM GOING TO STEAL YOUR ART AND EAT IT (positive)

Damn, alrighty then XD

GUYS LOOK AT WHAT MY FRIEND DREW!!! ISN'T THIS AWESOME!!

"You Killed Me."

as I mentioned in my reblog of @art-by-stella's wonderful fanart, here's my version of it. She mentioned to me on discord that she wanted to see me redraw this drawing specifically, so I did! it was a lot of fun!

Her version can be found here: https://www.tumblr.com/art-by-stella/776470356929183744/this-blog-seems-to-have-become-not-only-a-rp-blog?source=share

This was honestly one of my favourite scenes I had written for the fanfic!

I saw you found my RP thingo. If you want, once I'm comfortable with the swing of things again, we could rp together?

Of course!! Just let me know when you want to! Don't be afraid, I don't bite.

Hudson glanced at Ray when he fixed his hat, raising a brow, but at least didn't swat Ray's hand away nor hiss. He watched Catherine walk away in a haste, yelling a quick goodbye in French. He would then snap his attention back on Ray.

"Your first impression is that you're asking to get bullied. Stand up straighter, goodness."

Hudson folded his arms, tilting his head as he watched Ray twirl his hair. "Whatever. You're not the first kid my Mere shoved towards me. And you probably won't be the last, knowing her."

He brushed the dirt off his knees and stood up, back tall and shoulders squared. "I wouldn't do that in front of the other guys. They'll probably call you a girl."

His hard glare slowly melted into something more...warmer. Still intense, but no longer icy. He cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck. "Ahem. Sorry. Sometimes I forget that no ones around and I don't need to act like this."

He stretched out hand, smiling sheepishly with that cute little gape in his teeth. "I'm Hudson. And I'm going to help you make it through this, alright?"

Catherine watched her boy go bound off towards the forest, already passing a gathering of boys, the group exchanging excited words about the upcoming hike.

She greeted a fellow Mother, her smile just twitching when the madame pronounced her name wrong.

She had given up on correcting people long ago, already feeling fatigue from having to watch all those people tumble and slip up with it.

She then noticed a burly man dragging a little boy down to the camp grounds. She didn't recall meeting the man before nor the little boy before, so she was already brushing off her dress and walking towards them with a smile.

"Bonjour monsieur! It's quite lovely to see new faces around here. Is your boy joining this group as well? It's such a wonderful thing to see kids interested in participating in this!"

The man looked up as he was approached, offering a small smile as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well hello there, ma’am. Yeah, my son’s gonna give it a go. I’m on a little, uh, work trip, so I figured I wouldn’t bore him with my business.” He ruffled his son’s hair as he said that last bit. His accent sharply contrasted hers, one that could be identified as Southern from the U.S.

He turned to his son and moved his hand to his shoulder as he added, “Ray, why don’t you go on and run ahead. Make sure you talk to the other boys, y’hear? No point avoidin’ it if you wanna have fun.”

The kid—Ray—nodded and gave him a hug before walking off to join the other boys. His father watched him go for a moment before turning back to Catherine.

“Ah, sorry ‘bout that, ma’am. ‘Got all wrapped up… ‘name’s Daniel,” he said, offering her a hand. “My son’s name is Raymond. We’re from Virginia, just stayin’ for the summer.”

@thelocalmoth 's Jack and Hudson moments!

These were inspired by our rp!

As well as this, I guess:

(Not too proud of this one as I tried to take a break from my cartoony art style)

Frustrated.

How Could You?

“Mister Lawrence?”

I turned around, only to be met with my apprentice. He shuffled awkwardly, half of him hiding beneath the door. I then stared hard at my desk, letting out a sigh. Without meaning to, I dropped my book, music sheets spilling onto the floor. The yellowing papers swept up dust on the floorboards, I only narrowed my eyes at this. “What do you want, Johnny?” I muttered, kicking off my chair to retrieve the papers. I heard him slowly cracking my office door wide open and taking a few steps in.  Bending down, my hands furiously grabbed the scattered papers. I didn’t look at him. “Sorry to interrupt, but the band is waiting for you.” He said meekly. His British accent caught me off guard. I stood up, carelessly plopping the bundle of papers on my desk. I turned to him, an eyebrow raised. Today, he was dressed in a pale blue vest, buttoned up white collar shirt and brown slacks. I groaned, “Can’t they just warm up right now?” He hesitated, before he spoke, “They’ve been doing that, but..they’re getting impatient.” He nervously blew his light chestnut hair out of his face. I gritted my teeth, resisting the urge to yell. “Then tell them to wait.” I growled. Johnny frowned, avoiding eye contact with me. In a small voice he responded, “You said that…two hours ago.” Silence. 

I stormed through the vacant hallways, not even waiting for Johnny. Posters were plastered every four feet it seemed. With their cartoonish style, they all stared at me and smiled. This only fed my annoyance. The lights above me flickered and buzzed, making my shadow grow long behind me.

 God, my head hurts. Even though my feet were slamming down on the creaky wooden boards, I could hear Johnny jogging after me. “Mister Lawrence, wait up! I’m sure we could make a compromise with the band, maybe even-” “ENOUGH.” I barked at him. Irritation makes a nest inside my brain. Though, deep down, I do feel a little guilty. Trying to simmer down, I cleared my throat. “Johnny, is your brother already in his booth?” I asked, making a sharp left turn.  He hurried after, finally keeping up with my pace. “Last time I checked, yeah. Though, he was pretty mad that you didn’t show up.” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. Honestly, it felt like without me, the whole god damn music department would explode. “Tch-well, he better be there.” I huffed. 

Before Johnny could answer, I halted only to be met with a chattering river of musicians flooding out of the music department. Baffled, I yelled at one of the passing tuba players, Rick. “Mister Hoffleman! Where the hell are you-” With dark glaring green eyes, the middle aged man snapped at me, “Shut yer yap, Lawrence! It’s been two months of the same shit ya make us go through. Well, we’re tired of it.” He growled at me, his southern accent lacing his words. I recoiled back, almost stumbling into Johnny! If Johnny apologized, I couldn’t hear it. Not when my blood was roaring in my ears. I watched Rick stomp away, his brown suit jacket hanging from his shoulder.  I didn’t even notice that my jaw was hanging wide open, until Johnny quietly mentioned it to me.  I couldn’t speak, I couldn’t command them to stay. I just stood there, and while I did, lots of folks hissed complaints and glares at me when they passed by. Is this what it feels like? To be powerless? I don’t know why I’m so surprised. I’ve felt this before. When he left.

Turns out, Norman was still in his booth, packing up his projector. Even though the booth was mostly consumed by lingering shadows, we could hear him shuffling around.  I stared up at him, only for him to swing around and glare from above.  “Oh great, the all mighty composer finally arrived.” He said flatly, his dark grey eyes narrowing. With a grunt, he placed the metal projector on a rusted steel cart. “Polk, what happened?” I yelled, still looking up at the booth.  The shadows answered with another grunt, “Whaddya mean what happened, Lawrence? They’re fed up.” A pause. When I didn’t answer, he continued, “Look, I dunno what you’ve been doin these past months, but Jesus, can’t ya just compose the band ON TIME??  Some days, the doors are locked and no one can get in. Why? ‘Cause ya keep forgettin to unlock ‘em. Meaning WE can’t do what we need to do.” I felt my stomach tightened while my fists were clenched. “Can’t you just get Franks to unlock the damn door?” I retorted hotly. “Kid keeps forgettin his keys.” He replied with a monotone voice. I let out an exasperated sigh, feeling my nerves being shot left and right. Norman said nothing else and with that I turned around. I  watched Johnny struggling to gather all the music stands. Taking a deep breath, I walked over to him and helped him put them away in the storage room.  I didn’t say anything. Despite how clumsy or frantic this kid is, I didn’t hate him. He’s a good apprentice.

 Well, decent anyway. 

After stacking up the chairs and cautiously putting instruments in their cases, we were done. During that whole time, I didn’t mutter a word. I was too absorbed in my thoughts.  Was working with Mister Drew on his project really making me digress  from what needs to be done? Surely, I could balance them both. Right? No. I couldn’t and today proved that. Bitter disappointment felt like a knife in my gut, wedging itself further and further in.  I felt something sting my eyes, rubbing them. Jesus, was I so powerless that I was having a stupid CRYING FIT?! I muttered something to myself, when suddenly, I felt a gentle hand clamped on my shoulder. “It’s okay to cry, Mister Lawrence! It’s..it’s been a tough day, but..there’s always tomorrow!” Johnny exclaimed, his eyes brightening.  I stared at him for a moment, actually looking at him. His face looked similar to Normans, same nose, and structure.  Light chestnut hair with streaks of dark brown while his eyes..well. One was dark grey, like Norman, but his other eye was a dark auburn.  Wasn’t that called.. Heterochromia? I think that's what it's called.

Anyhow, he just smiled at me sympathetically.  Without thinking, I smiled back at him.  “I..suppose you’re right.” I said, nodding curtly. He slipped his hand off my shoulder and walked over to the piano. “So, about that music sheet you sent me home with yesterday, I practiced it and I think I got it?” He smiled, sitting down on the chair and straightening his composure.  I was stunned. He practiced it? Hell, I didn’t even tell him to do that. Though, of course, I was skeptical.  I pulled up a stool and gestured for him to start. He cracked his fingers, staring down at the keys and gave it his all. There were a few slip ups, but I was impressed at how beautiful the melody was. And how Johnny was so focused on the piece. When he was done, he paused, before hesitantly turning his head to look at me.  I stood up from my wooden stool and placed my hand on his shoulder. “Good work.” I praised, smiling at him slightly. 

I swear his eyes lit like bright stars. I was proud of him. Even though I failed the band, I didn’t fail him.  Until…I did. 

It’s been a few months since that moment. 

I looked at my shaking right hand, a smoking pistol was tightly in my grasp. 

Oh Johnny. I’m so sorry.

I’m 

      So

               Sorry

Piccrew link here: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/2288696

Tagging some of my moots!

(please do NOT feel pressured into doing this! I haven't tagged all my moots, but if they want to do this, they can totally join!)

@flowysgonemad @slaterdevil @cupidstarz @r0zzk1ll @azzy-demangel

@thegodswillstrikemedown

@thelocalmoth @type1dragonwolf @bloodofthedemon @saltysublimebouquet @mildlybizarrecorvid

@eviethenut @eeveelikessoda @pixulsfant @fancybendyboi

I think it's pretty brave of you to vent. I can relate to what you're feeling. I don't know if I can tell you that things will be looking up soon, but I can tell you that I hope it will get better soon and I'm here to support <3. I'm really sorry what's happening and again, I'm here for you. *Hugs* I don't know if this helps, but I feel like this a lot too and I just wanted to say..this vent..makes me feel less alone with my problems. Thank you.

Vent post

Warning for vent, mentions of death/suicide and mentions of running away

Hey guys. Sorry to drop this out of nowhere. I just need to tell someone. To get this off my chest.

I hate where I am right now. I hate school. I hate having people expect something of me. I feel like I’m forgotten. That no one cares. That people just use me or don’t really care about me.

I feel like I’m a ghost in my family. I feel like they’re so busy that they barely care. I sometimes wish I wasn’t born or that I wasn’t here. I know I could never hurt myself though. I wish that I was anywhere but here. Either past of future.

I feel like no one would care if I left. I feel like I what to runaway but I’m not sure if I want to or if I could. Maybe for just a day as then I’d come back home. Still.

I hate myself sometimes too. How lazy I am and how I’m not good. Sometimes I want to rip my heart out so that I would never be hurt again. I feel like I inly hear bad things anymore. No goodness.

I’m so f#cking tired. SO TIRED. I’m tired of all the arguing, the death that’s happening, the being pushed behind and forgotten. I just want to leave. I hate this. All of this. I want to just be free to be myself but I know that I can’t.

I’m in so much pain. I’m trapped and I don’t know what to do. My therapist doesn’t help me but everyone thinks that therapy is “working.” I hate it. So much. Nothing meaningful comes out of it. I’m just tired. I want to be okay for once. But will I ever be?

I hate this. Hate this all. I feel forgotten, pained, and I just… I want to leave it all behind and hardly ever look back. I want to be in the future. I want to be okay.

I swear if one more bad thing happens I might just leave. Run away. I don’t care if people come looking for me. Hey, maybe it’ll make me noticed for once. Haha… ugh. I just want to know I’ll be okay. I want to be okay RIGHT NOW.

Sorry for the vent. But I don’t know why I should be sorry for saying how I feel, due to the fact that everyone’s always telling me to do so. Or whatever. I’ve said what I’ve need to say.