#I have straight hair but i love curly hair

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom. TW: suicide thoughts.

John’s War

When it begins, it’s subtle. A flutter in his stomach, which later turns into an ache in his heart. He knows it’s wrong, and he desperately tries to fight it. It’s like a war, and he is the only participant. 

John’s been in love many times. Audrey was the first, Bethany the last. And it’s been fine. Normal. Girls seem to like him. He’s got quite the reputation by the time he’s reached sixteen.

***

It all started to crumble when his sister, Harry, came out as a lesbian at fourteen. Their parents had been livid, but Harry came prepared and was totally unfazed. She’d even arranged to stay at her girlfriend’s family, fully aware that her own mum and dad would kick her out if she didn’t retract and started to act normal.

***

Lance was half American, half British. He and his mother had recently moved back to London after almost twenty years in America. The moment John laid his eyes on Lance, the fluttering began. Lance looked like a film star. Golden, curly hair, green eyes, androgyne features, a slender body, strong hands, long fingers. He was everything John wasn’t. Gay, for starters. And he wanted John of all people.

Words John’s father used on such people, played on repeat in his mind:

Faggot. Queer. Degenerate.

John tried to tell Lance, he was straight, but there was no denying how much John wanted Lance to kiss and touch him. His penis reminded him repeatedly and inconveniently every so often of that particular fact.

“John. Stop this. It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Lance whispered softly and kissed John’s neck. “Haven’t you heard of bisexuality?”

***

Running away to Afghanistan was the only way forward for John when he couldn’t rescue Lance after his overdose. He felt the need to atone for his lack of observation. 

How had he not seen the self-destructing path Lance was heading down? He was a bloody doctor, for Christ’s sake! Had he been in denial about that too? Didn’t he want to believe that such a talented man Lance turned out to be, could choose to destroy himself just because he failed the interview for the main role in a West End play?

“I’m sorry, darling, but there’ll be other roles. New chances. No one gets them on the first try, surely,” John had tried to reassure his lover, but to no avail.

So, there he was. In Afghanistan where danger lurked around every corner. John was quite startled that he enjoyed the danger so much. He felt alive, thrilled, his broken heart notwithstanding. 

And then, another man invaded his thoughts, and eventually his bed. Major James Sholto.

***

Mike Stamford had never seen a more broken man in his life than John Watson, as he limped past the bench, where he was sitting thinking about Sherlock's words from earlier: 

“Who would want me for a flatmate? I’m a difficult man at best. People hate being around me. Can you imagine someone actually living with me? Who is alive themselves. No, Mike. There exists no such human, I assure you.”

“John! John Watson!” he called out. 

When John just gave him a blank stare, Mike sighed and introduced himself. The response was insulting to say the least. No “oh, nice to see you again, mate,” or “what have you been up to?” There was…nothing.

“Who has left you heartbroken, John?” Mike didn’t say and let John walk away without having said a word.

***

After his meeting with Mike, John finds himself outside Barts hospital. He’s got fond memories from his practise here. With Mike. He winces when he reminisces how rude he was to the jovial man. But it couldn’t be helped. John’s a broken man in so many ways, and he just wants to be left alone. He looks up. Wonders how it would feel to stand on the edge of that roof. Would he dare to jump off it if the opportunity arose? He’s never been afraid of heights. And he longs for the pain to subside. The emotional pain. The pain that scars his heart.

Time eludes him. Why are his knees hurting? He opens his eyes. Is he kneeling on the pavement? Apparently. When did that happen? How long? His thoughts stop abruptly when a warm hand is placed on his good shoulder.

“Are you alright?”

A deep baritone. John perceives a posh accent. The warmth from the man’s hand travel down his spine like lava. 

Radiant. Alluring. Dangerous. 

He lifts his head. At first glance, the man could be Lance’s twin. But then, John realises that it’s only the curly hair and height they have in common. This man’s hair is almost black with tinges of auburn. His eyes are blue, but also green and blue green. The colours are constantly shifting. They’re mesmerising. John wants to drown himself in them.

John stands. He still hasn’t said a word. The man hands him his cane and speaks again.

“Afghanistan or Iraq?”

For the first time in years John’s first response isn’t to flee. Instead, he straightens his back, lifts his chin and asks:

“How? Tell me.”

The flicker of surprise, quickly followed by insecurity on the man’s face, makes John realise that this can be, if he lets it, a new beginning.

“Go on,” John prompts.

When the man speaks again, John is lost. An ease sets within him, and his heart stops cracking.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

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[blu3-ja3]

Jillian's POV

My parents love me, I know this. Maybe they're not the best but I could have it far worse. My parents love me but they love Lady Gotham more, I can't fault them for that. She's the reason Mother is alive, why I have my gifts and for that my parents wish to set her free. But in order to do that I have to help them find her first...

I know my assignment: find a Wayne child and befriend them. My parents can get to Bruce Wayne through that, from there I don't know what's to happen. Part of me is too scared to ask, I know what they have planned for me. I can only imagine what they have planned for him. It's for the greater good of Gotham. My mother's words echo through my mind as I walk into the large ball room where the gala is being held.

I came in with my parents but I was shooed away as soon as they started speaking with other attendees. I keep my hands busy, picking idly at the sleeves of my green dress. My eye stopped at a man and woman, I don't know why they felt significant. Like I was seeing something I'm not supposed to see.

The man has dark brown hair with a gray almost white streak slicked to the side. He had kind blue eyes and a genuine smile. The woman has short curly black hair with a few greys peppered softly throughout, she's holding the man's arm with nothing but love in her dark brown eyes.

As I studied their features something clicked in my head, like a puzzle piece fitting. They're Martha and Thomas Wayne, I jump slightly as they both turn to me. I make eye contact with Thomas Wayne before I duck behind someone leaving their eyesight. I take a deep breath and close my eyes.

Of course the spirits of his parents would be with him Jillian, it's not the first time you've seen the dead. Calm down and remember the reason Mother let you come along. I swallow the lump in my throat and are about to make a move when a familiar gloved hand grabs my arm. I look up to my mother glaring down at me a sickly sweet smile on her face.

"Come along sweetheart, I'd like to introduce you to the Wayne family, maybe you'll make a friend!" My mother's voice lilts, her grip on my arm becoming tighter.

I nod as she pulls me in front of her, guiding me towards the couple from before. I tried to ignore them and focus on the living people behind them. A tall man with black hair has his back towards us leaning over messing with something, he stands up straight as my father approaches.

"Mister Wayne! How lovely to formally meet you! Thompson Rosenberg!" My father holds out a hand to the man. Mr. Wayne takes my father's hand and shakes it firmly before my father gestures towards me and my mother, opens his mouth to say something before mother cuts him off.

"Bruce! How lovely to see you again, it's been a long time since we were kids!" My mother holds out her hand to the man and holds her cheek as Bruce places a kiss on her glove with a bow.

"It's good to see you as well Amalia, I'm glad you've come back to Gotham! Nice to have another family with old roots back to help!" I'm a little taken aback as the man has such a breathy almost ditzy voice to him. He speaks with an almost old Hollywood quality to his voice.

I feel my mother's grip on my shoulder tighten, her nails digging into my shoulder through her gloves. I tense a bit before forcing my body to relax as Mr Wayne's blue eyes shift towards me, something hard and calculating there before his gaze darts towards my mother as she speaks.

"And this," Another harsh squeeze before her hand falls to my back, "Is Jillian! My darling baby girl!"

I give the tall man a simple smile and a wave before I speak, "Hello, Mr. Wayne! It's a pleasure to meet you, my mother has told me stories about you and her as children!"

I keep my voice calm, recalling everything my parents told me. How I have to keep up appearances or else there would be consequences. I force myself not to shudder at the thought of what my parents would do if I messed up their assignment.

"Ah! Lovely to meet you, I've got a few of my own kids running around here somewhere! Damien! Why don't you introduce Jillian to your brothers and sisters!" Bruce smiles sweetly as he pushes a younger boy towards me. The boy has darker skin than his father, he's got dark green eyes and black slightly curly hair. He's wearing a black suit with a light green bow tie.

"Come this way," the younger boy orders before walking away, moving with a purpose through the crowds of people. I look towards my mother who waves me away yet again.

I follow quickly trying to avoid touching anyone or anything, I watch as Damien reaches a set of large wooden doors that lead outside. He waits as I catch up before opening the door and stepping out into the garden. I can hear multiple voices ringing out from the court yard.

As I step out I can feel a little tension ease out of my body. The garden is massive, rows of flowers and bushes around a large gravel courtyard with paths leading further into the garden. There are several figures in the courtyard, a few running around laughing and screaming while others sit. Damien walks up to a woman with red hair, sitting on a stone bench, an empty wheelchair sitting next to her, she's wearing a long mermaid tail dress that's in bright yellow.

"This is Barbra Gordon, a close family friend to the Wayne's." Damien gestures like he's a tour guide at a museum.

"Hello, Damien who's this?" The woman waves to me as I wave back smiling softly.

"Jillian Rosenberg, Father told me to introduce her to the family. You're family are you not Barbra?" Damien cocks his head to the side before he moves to a step to the right standing in front of another woman. She has short dark brown hair, warm brown skin and dark almost black brown eyes. She's wearing a very form fitting black cocktail dress with no sleeves.

"This is my step mother, Selena Kyle," The woman's eyes widen a bit before she speaks.

"Damien sweetheart, that's very kind of you to say but I'm only dating Bruce. We're not even married darling," Damien scoffs a quiet little 'tch' before continuing on walking towards a tree. I give a small wave towards the two women and follow the younger boy.

Damien stops in front of a man with black hair and a bright streak of white hair, he has extremely dark green eyes. He's wearing a black suit with no tie and a red pocket square. I tried to ignore uneasy almost sickly feelings I'm getting by being around him as he looks up from the book he's reading.

"This is my older brother Jason! He's very recently come back from being away! He won't tell me from where though, Father is very excited about having him back," Damien looks up and I notice a girl about my age, she has short black hair and black eyes. She's wearing a black suit with a black tie but has no jacket, just a tailored vest.

"That is my sister Cassandra, she does not bother herself with idle chit chat. I respect that about her." I give a small wave to both before following Damien over the center of the courtyard where three figures all about my age are running around laughing.

One is a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes, she's wearing a short knee length purple dress. She's chasing another boy who has dark brown skin, black tightly curled hair, and warm orange brown eyes. He's wearing a black suit with a bright yellow vest underneath. Another boy is chasing both of them he's pale with extremely pale blue eyes and black hair, he's wearing an all black suit with a red red button up underneath.

Damien is about to say something when someone yells to look out, Damien jumps out of the way as a taller figure comes barreling towards me. Before I can really catch myself I'm falling backwards as the figure jumps into the air, flipping over me. I fall backwards, tripping over my own dress and landing on my ass and hand.

Before I can stop it, someone grabs my hand to help me. I scream as flashes of someone else's life appear before my eyes, filling my mind with their memories. Being in a circus, a caring childhood with so much color and life. An exciting night becomes something horrible, sadness, grief and anger. I pull my hand away quickly, grasping my hand over my mouth.

I can feel tears rolling down my cheeks as I stand up quickly, I don't even look around at the small group of people. I quickly blink away the tears in my eyes before taking a deep breath to calm myself and school my expression. I frowned at my dress, a visible rip in it.

"Are you okay?" I look up to see Ms. Selena holding out an arm to me, "Oh sweet you've ripped your dress, let's get you fixed up shall we?"

I took her arm and mumbled an apology to everyone, as I stood up. I followed the taller woman as she guided me back inside towards the bathrooms. She kept her arm hooked in mine as we walked through the main gala hall. I noticed Barbara, the blonde girl and Cassandra following and fanning out around me as we enter a private room.

"Cassandra can you give me two clean edges to work with, Stephanie can you get me the green thread from my kit in my purse?" Selena looks to me before smiling a kind genuine smile.

"We'll get your dress fixed sweet but are you okay? You had quite the reaction when Dick touched your hand..." I swallowed before taking a deep breath.

"I'm a germaphobe, I'm sorry it's nothing personal." I keep my hands close to my chest, fidgeting with my high collared dress.

I stand as the four women around me work seamlessly together, barely any words exchanged between them. My dress was mended and we were back outside in the garden, standing with the group of boys and Bruce Wayne an older man who looks similar to Barbara. Damien appeared before me again gesturing towards the girl I've now learned is Stephanie.

"You've met Stephanie," Damien points towards the boy in the bright yellow vest before continuing. "This is Duke, and that's Timothy,"

Damien points to the boy in the red, a man in black suit with a blue vest and blue button up shirt, he also has black hair and light blue eyes. He looks a bit like a kicked dog as he stepped forwards.

"I'm sorry for making you trip and your dress ripping," I smile as kindly as possible keeping my hands close to my chest.

"It's okay, I got to see some very cool acrobatics and Ms. Kyle helped fix my dress." I tense up as a familiar gloved hand appears on my shoulder, squeezing tightly as nails dig into my shoulder.

"Jillian, introduce us to your friends sweetheart!" My mother's voice lilts, I force myself not to grimace.

"Mother, Father, meet the Wayne children," I gesture to each as I speak their name before pausing at the man who flipped over me. "I'm sorry I still haven't heard your name, Mister..."

"Oh Richard Grayson- Wayne, but please call me Dick!" He reaches out a hand to take mine, I take a deep breath preparing myself for what may appear before me.

"Oh Dick, darling, Jillian doesn't like skin to skin contact. She's a bit like Alfred when it comes to germs," I hear Selina call out from where she's standing next to Bruce.

I can feel my mother's grip on my shoulder tighten again, the pin pricks of pain spreading to encompass my shoulder. I struggle not to show how much her grip is hurting before I reach out quickly and take the man's hand.

Flashes of an older man in a butler uniform throughout the years, scolding me and others. Baking in a kitchen with a kind smile and serving tea while outside together. Numerous conversations and lessons flashing in front of me.

As soon as the images start I pull my hand away, taking a deep shuddering breath. I look at my mother and see her smiling, a sense of satisfaction radiating from her. I look back towards the Wayne family to see several looks of concern pointed towards me. I take another shuddering breath and give them a big smile that I know doesn't reach my eyes.

"Well this has been a lovely evening but we truly must be going! I'm sure we'll see each other again soon, Jillian will be attending Gotham's school soon!" My mother turns me around and we leave. I turn back giving a small wave before Cassandra steps up and hands me the small clutch purse I was carrying. I thanked her before following my parents outside.

The ride home I'm quiet, my mother and father talking amongst themselves as I slip on my gloves. I open my little purse to grab my phone only to find a slip of paper: 'If you need some friends to eat lunch with, you can come hang with us' underneath are Timothy's, Stephanie's, Cassandra's and Duke's numbers. I feel a slight smile creep across my face before I school my expression.

I started typing out as much as I could remember about the memories I witnessed. My gut twists with guilt, I invaded that man's privacy and saw glimpses of his past. It's not the first time I've used my gift but it always makes me feel disgusting, seeing things I'm not meant to see.

But it's for my parents, they need the information and I'm the only way they can get it. So I do what they need because it's my responsibility to them and to Lady Gotham. It's for the greater good but then why do I feel so awful afterwards? No I can't think like that, those thoughts lead to questions that make Mother angry and Father disappointed. I send everything I wrote to my mother's number before staring out the window.

Bruce's POV

The Rosenbergs have officially come back to Gotham. The last Rosenberg, the only daughter; Amalia, returned to her childhood home with her daughter and husband. I asked Alfred for assistance when trying to learn more about the family and their impact on Gotham before leaving.

They were one of the first families to settle in Gotham after the Wayne family began the efforts. The Rosenberg's are a long line of doctors and pharmacists, the original owners of Rosenberg Hospital in Gotham. That was until John Rosenberg, Amalia's father. The man went mad with grief after his wife's disappearance, yet another unsolved case of Gotham.

There are several reports stating that John would talk constantly of a curse on Gotham and a mysterious lady. Someone who granted miracles to her faithful, spending a great deal of his family's fortune digging in the harbor and near Arkham Island.

Misfortune struck when Amalia was 10, her father snap and attacked the rest of the Rosenberg family. He killed both Amalia's brothers as well as his parents before killing himself, the reports are vague but there are reports stating the crime scene as ritual-like. Amalia was sent to live with her father's sister in Europe afterwards. I was young when Amalia was sent away, I remember Father talking to Mother about attending the funeral because John was a good family friend.

The Rosenberg's were potentially another corrupt family reestablishing their foot hold on Gotham. Meeting with them at the gala was an opportunity to get a baseline on them, understand what I could and assess them in a neutral environment. I got what I wanted and more. I'm a father, I know the difference between a child who's shy and a child who's under duress.

Stiff back and shoulders, clenched jaw, arms held tightly to the side. Extremely nervous, continuously picking at the sleeves of her dress. She had bags under her eyes, makeup clearly placed to cover them up, her smile forced and practiced. Never quit reaching her eyes until smiling towards Damien. Her entire figure deflates once out of her mother's reach.

Amalia kept a hand on the young girl the entirety of our introduction, it wasn't a kind hand either. There were flexed muscles in the arm and hands, hard to notice through the long gloves covering most of her arm. She held disdain in her eyes when looking at her daughter even more evident when I asked about her daughter or when we spoke of children.

Thompson is much of a threat, he's very passive with all of his exchanges. But he's smart and knows how to dance around a subject, goading you into asking the questions he wants to ask. He knows how to make you comfortable about letting information slip, I know when to keep my mouth shut thankfully. Though that seemed to frustrate them to no end. They leave quickly once they seem to realize I wouldn't be giving up much.

I excused myself after spotting Selena with Rosenberg's daughter and the girls. I moved to doors and the ladies came through to see my sons having a conversation, Dick looking guilty.

"What happened?" They all look up and towards me, Tim's the first to speak up and explain the events. I scolded them a bit for rough housing at a public event but relented after a moment knowing they meant no harm to. Jim Gordon eventually joins asking where Barbra was, which was I explained what I spotted.

The girls come back and everyone slips back into their Wayne family persona. Damien bounces over towards Jillian like he's an excited kid with a new friend, he's chattering away about the rest of the family before stopping when Dick steps up to the girl.

Her demeanor is very relaxed and kind, smiling sweetly at Dick and accepting his apology with a joke of her own. Jillian opens her mouth to say something before tensing up completely when her mother touches her. I hear Selina make a noise of discomfort as she squeezes my hand, I squeeze back letting her know I saw it too.

The girl looks like she's about to snap in two as she introduced everyone before stopping at Dick. The fear on Jillian's face when Dick held out a hand to her makes my gut twist. Selina calls out to Dick letting him know about her germaphobia but I watched Amelia's grip tighten as a flash of pain appeared on the girl's face.

Before Dick could react and take his hand away Jillian took his hand, her eyes seemed to glaze over as tears appeared in them. Her expression locked in discomfort before she pulled away just as quickly. The tension in her shoulders remained but her expression molded itself to something that could pass for happiness.

I had to bite back my anger at the look of satisfaction on Amelia's face, her grip on her daughter's shoulder loosening before calling out a good bye. The teens were quick to react before Cass moved quickly to give Jillian her purse. The difference between Jillian's genuine smile and the forced smile she was wearing is like night and day. Everyone watched as she disappeared into the building to follow her parents.

I make a silent promise to myself to watch the Rosenberg's because there is something they're hiding, and it's my duty to protect Gotham and those who call Gotham their home.

HELLO! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter of this little story! More is to come but I wanted to get this out there!

[toolazytodecide]

This or that game tagged by @daydreamingandprocrastination

painting or photography // dusk or dawn// spring or autumn // movies or tv shows // chocolate or nutella // audiobooks or podcasts // card games or board games // fiction or nonfiction // cookies or brownies // dragons or unicorns // bath or shower // blue or yellow // rollercoasters or bumper cars // iced tea or hot tea // left side of bed or right side of bed  // zip-up hoodie or pullover hoodie // straight hair or curly hair// gummy worms or gummy bears // rain or snow // sneakers or flip-flops // bowling or mini-golf // pasta or pizza

[nyoomerr]

Curly Haired Binghe X Had A Curly Haired Younger Sister Shen Yuan has my whole heart

he was prepared to handle (bing)meimei's hair, not his own!! these xianxia standards are BS !!

[staticymaticyyourlifeisatravesty]

Can we please Acknowledge that Sanguinius looks like the Emperor in a wig here

I have more of Sanguinius looking like Big E in a wig

Like Sir, why do you look that!? Who told you not to brush out your curls with your fingers???

[vanyafresita]

me, after catching up w malevolent: ok lets sketch my designs for some characters to have a reference before drawing any serious fanart

my silly ass: draws that one meme

[bizlybebo]

anyways cause i love hair headcanons and minor pieces of symbolism in things like inherited appearance--

mae (may?) ferin has brown hair, but it's very curly.

jayson ferin has the fiery orange hair that's the signature of the ferins, but it's straight.

thinking about ava ferin having the same hair as her father, because she took after him and fit the role she was meant to. became a navy captain(?) and allat

thinking about jay ferin having her father's red hair, but her mother's curls because she doesn't fit the mold of being a ferin in the way her sister did. she's a pirate, first of all-- she never becomes the navy icon she was meant to, but she still has that lingering loyalty that comes from family. she's caught between her rebellion and her love for her family and i love how her alignment isn't black-and-white.

[enigmaticvariation]

Happy bisexual visibility day to Adam Parrish, my favorite little freak

[doki-doki-imagines]

gintoki headcanons with a curly head s/o pleaser

-Listen, it doesn't matter how much you love curls, Gintoki will never understand you. -At first, he thought you were just lying to get in his pants. "If you wanna fuck you don't need to butter me up, you just need strawberry milk-" -Now, a punch later, he knows you are not doing it to get in his pants, but he still has his doubts... -Gintoki still doesn't like his natural perm, but it doesn't mean he won't enjoy your compliments... -"C'mon, tell me more how good are by white locks" He says laying on the broken sofa, legs going up and down like a love fool teenager, hands under his chin. -And how nice when things actually go like Gintoki wants, for once. -He is the kind of guy not to talk and just enjoy your hands on his hair and your sweet voice. -Don't expect any compliment in return Gintoki simply appreciates those moments; he just isn't able to be verbally affectionate. -And, anyway, it's better than anything his dumpster of a mouth could ever come up with-

[vaguely-concerned]

some more rye ingellvars! b/c I have fineagled. I have tweaked. we are getting ever closer every time I heave a big sigh and walk up to the mirror of transformation once more to put in my daily penance of moving the jawbone angle slider microscopically one way or the other

my boy... my son. the Most Profile Haver champion thirty-four years running <3

this one is mostly because lucanis standing there fully like the ben affleck smoking meme as big time necromancer drama goes down might be The funniest thing I've ever seen actually. PROS of falling in love with a Watcher: Bae :) CONS of falling in love with a Watcher: Bae's extended family feat. whatever the hell vorgoth is and megalomaniacal distant ex-aunts hellbent on world domination. well. to be fair I guess you also have to deal with illario so we're probably even

so determined so handsome so fierce and so "a decade plus on fantasy HRT and most people's go-to word to describe you would still be 'boyish'. but at least you wear it well" (rye is in their mid-thirties but is frequently mistaken for quite a bit younger on initial acquaintance. good genes absolutely no sun damage until recently and a certain youthfulness of mannerisms will do that to a motherfucker.)

he looks like a kid who's won a medal at some low-level sporting event and has been made to pose for a picture against his will and the photographer is taking a while <3 I would die for him

ah yes... ellaryen 'rye' ingellvar the tl;dr version (this conversation unexpectely fucked me up tho an emotional ambush I was not prepared for)

[birdmenmanga]

hmmg... I got commissioned to draw emotes for a streamer... she says to just draw her the color that I think her face is, but I think her previous artists have chosen to depict her with a paler tone than what I see such that we're talking completely different tone leagues here and I'm a little anxious. I don't want to be rocking the boat... I don't want my drawing to feel like they're accusing her other artists of whitewashing...

[brehaaorgana]

Look what I just got in the mail!! Queen's Thief/the Geniad books 1-3, FairyLoot edition. All the ones signed by MWT sold out before I snagged one as a birthday present for myself (this Friday, so it arrived in spectacular timing), but these are sooo lovely!

This is probably the 5th copy of these first three books that I've now purchased. The first copies were new for my first time reading. Second set was used copies for "dedicated loaners for local friends" and so I could annotate my own copies without spoiling anyone, 3rd copies were the audiobooks, 4th was a set I bought used for a friend in another state, and....now these. 😂

—Wait, I also bought these for another friend new. ....I've bought these six times! (Don't worry, I own the other three Thief novels too!) probably the only way I'm getting nicer copies is if I manage to get them signed someday by MWT or I get like, a bookbinder to hand bind me a copy in actual leather or something, haha.

So I'm quite pleased with these. I definitely love the dust jacket designs here, and the hardcover design underneath is really good. I also just love the imagery picked out for each book - the gift, the hook, the sword and ten gold cups.... Perfect. (I think I would have the back of book two say "War, then." But I still really like what was chosen as a quote.)

You should read The Thief, is my PSA!

[detentiontrack]

I kind of love my naturally curly/thick hair now. It’s not “my dad’s hair” it’s MY hair. It has nothing to do with him :)

[invinciblerodent]

i kinda love just how often art looks like absolute hot garbage from a dumpster until it's like... 90% done. because after spending so long hating it, and pushing yourself to trust the process, and muscling through the insecurity and discomfort, that moment when it finally COMES TOGETHER??? is so bloody glorious, it makes all of that itching feeling so worth it.

like this applies to just about anything I think (maybe more to things with a visual- or tactile component, but I can see it for written media as well) but right now it's is specifically about an amigurumi doll i'm making-- and for like the last three hours i've been working on it, it's been looking like a horrible little old man, a nightmare-realm chibi-version of Geri-from-Pixar-fame, and the second i placed the first little chunk of hair over the forehead, it became instantly adorable, and I can't wait to show off the finished thing ❤️

[purplebass]

Yeah curly hair is great because sometimes it makes me feel like one of those medieval ladies with flower crowns on their heads even though it's a bitch to style and to maintain

[burningcomputerpersona]

ahhhhhhhh guess who made the mistake of getting a haircut