#PORTIA PLEASE

[charlunday]

Ok so this all started because @skepticalcatfrog suggested that Portia could be masc because she designs mens clothing. I loved the idea of stud Portia and immediately ran with it, also using it as an excuse to draw my baby boy

commissions open! – 8 days left to claim your discount!

[honorary-perfectionist]

hey, YOU! ARE YOU LOOKING FOR A MELLIOTVERSE SERVER? BECAUSE ME, @/candyhearts-and-paperflowers AND @/forflightlessbirds MADE ONE >:D

IT HAS AWESOME CHANNELS:

EMOJIS!

IT IS PRO KIN, PRO XENOGENDER AND ANTI-ENDO

uhm i don’t know what else to put pls join

[allhailthemightyquattro]

Hold up. I just watched the behind the scenes video instead of just scrolling through grainy stills, and can now I can see that it is Portia who is pinching Colin's cheeks. I had just assumed it was Violet! Oh, please let this be an actual part of the scene and not just Polly Walker and Luke Newton messing around.

[snobgoblin]

[hugsandnoregrets]

actually the Bridgerton prequel I want is Portia’s season. I want to watch her barely lose the diamond title to Mary, have a longer frenemy relationship with Araminta, her struggle for status existing from the beginning,

I want her to have the most intense sexual chemistry filled romantic love of all time, and I want to watch that man abandon her, and uncouth, undesirable Archibald Featherington comes to her reluctant rescue. They do not love each other. She watches the man she loves marry someone more appropriate for his status. He drags her back and forth. She may or may not cheat on Archibald, but since he cheats she doesn’t care either.

It gets messy and sad and tragic and funny because it’s Portia.

I want the inherent tragedy where love and passion and romance doesn’t win. And it ends with grandma Portia watching her three daughters be loved truly and honestly by their husbands, and she finally heals.

[vincentaureliuslin]

something something there are no answers but who would i be if you had not been my friend something who would i be if i had not loved you how would i know what love is and whatnot

[jazzajazzjazz]

EDIT (29/06/24): I now have raised enough money for my tablet! I can’t believe how quickly this has happened. You’re all so wonderful and kind and I can’t thank you enough 🥹

——-

Hello friends! Here's a long ass post I'm calling a sort-of-birthday-(my birthday is June 18th)-tablet-fundraiser-commission-post

A few days ago I asked around here and on instagram about tablet recommendations and Huion came up a lot. I've checked a bunch of reviews and I've settled on a HUION KAMVAS Pro 16.

Here's the problem:

it's really expensive

I'm currently working freelance and the money I do have is for household expenses only so I'm offering up commissions specifically to raise separate money for this tablet.

So let's get to the good stuff!

Complicated backgrounds for half and full body commissions will cost a little extra!

WILL DO: ✔️ most if not all fandoms ✔️ OC's ✔️ mild nsfw

WON'T DO: ❌ furries (not my forte, sorry!) ❌ anything depicting racism, transphobia, etc ❌ ships that are p*dophilic/abusive in any way

If you're interested please email me at jazzajazzjazz [at] gmail [dot] com

Thank you for reading! ♥

[spagooterx]

Arlo...my first love from Pathea ❤️

[utheny]

would be great if mama featherington’s garden will blossom next season as well. wdym i can potentially get violet and portia go on a double date?!!! SCREAMING

[blu-raes]

Things At Home That Remind Me of The Arcana Main 6 For One Reason or The Other

Asra: This globe that looks oddly like a crystal ball and has to sit in this purple bowl

Nadia: This crane teaset

Julian: ...self-explanatory

Muriel: This little ceramic chicken

Portia: This little cat teapot that's actually way too tiny for a cup of tea

Lucio: A medal in a martini glass in the cabinet

[artificialroux]

can u go more into depth about quinn’s home life and maybe how she felt once portia lowkey (totally) ghosted her after they were rescued!?

OFC!!

major tw for neglect, alcoholism, abuse, & heavy depictions of self harm

quinn never knew her father, he was out of the picture before she was born, a drunk one night stand, and her mother raised her alone. she grew up in a house that never felt like home. it was just walls, just a place to exist in, not to belong. her mother, a barely functioning alcoholic, was unpredictable at best and cruel at worst—the kind of person who could switch between being affectionate and dismissive in the span of an hour.

some days, her mom would sleep all afternoon, the tv blaring static in the background, an empty bottle rolling on the floor. other days, she’d be in a strangely good mood, telling quinn stories from when she was young—stories that didn’t always add up. those were the days quinn hated the most because they made her want to believe her mom could change.

then there were the nights when her mom would get angry over nothing—a mess in the kitchen, a misplaced bottle of vodka, quinn “looking at her the wrong way.” yelling, slurred insults, things thrown across the room. quinn learned early on not to cry, not to react. it only made things worse.

there were no family dinners, no bedtime stories, no soft moments. quinn took care of herself—cooked her own meals, did her own laundry, learned how to blend into the background. she stopped asking for things because asking led to disappointment.

by the time she was old enough to realize how wrong it all was, she had already trained herself to feel nothing. she stopped thinking her mom could change.

she stopped bringing people over. no one needed to see the stained carpets, the half-empty bottles, the way her mother barely acknowledged her.

instead, she became quiet, guarded, cold—the kind of person who never let anyone get close enough to leave. she threw herself into soccer her first year of highschool, needing an outlet for her anger that she felt so intensely. but soccer wasn't enough, and sometimes, sometimes she'd need another outlet.

quinn never thought of herself as the kind of person who self-harmed. she wasn’t weak. she wasn’t looking for attention. she wasn’t crying out for help. for a long time, she didn’t even realize that’s what she was doing.

it began with small things. clenching her fists so tightly her nails dug into her palms. biting the inside of her cheek until she tasted blood. holding her breath when she was angry until her head ached.

then, one night, after another screaming match with her mother, she found herself in the bathroom, staring at her reflection, furious and shaking. she needed to feel something else—anything else.

she pressed her fingernails into the skin of her forearm, dragging them down, leaving behind angry red marks. it burned. it made her focus. it gave her control.

burning. she started pressing her lighter against the inside of her wrist, just long enough to leave a mark. the pain was sharp, real. it pulled her back when her mind felt too loud.

scratching & carving. when she got angry, she’d drag her nails down her skin or use the edge of a safety pin, leaving raw lines behind. if she was really spiraling, she’d carve small, shallow words into her thigh—things like "STOP" or "ENOUGH."

bruising. she’d punch walls, slam her hands into her desk, hit her thighs hard enough to leave bruises. if she told herself it wasn’t real self-harm, it didn’t count.

it was never about wanting to die. she just didn’t know how else to deal with the rage.

quinn didn’t cry when she was upset. she didn’t scream, didn’t throw tantrums. she turned it inward.

the anger she felt toward her mother—the resentment, the disappointment, the bone-deep ache of being unwanted—had nowhere to go. and if she let herself really feel it, it would consume her.

so she hurt herself instead. it was like flipping a switch—the sharp pain grounded her, forced the storm inside her to quiet. and afterward, she could pretend she was fine.

she hid it well. no one got close enough to notice. she made sure any marks were where no one would see—her thighs, her stomach, the inside of her arms. and she played soccer anyways, aggressively, so bumps and bruises were normal.

she didn’t see it as a problem. it was just something she did. a habit. a release.

how quinn felt after portia ghosted her;

when quinn and portia were rescued, quinn thought they had something real.

in the wilderness, portia was the one person who made her feel like she wasn’t completely alone. even when they fought, even when quinn tried to push her away, portia always came back. they relied on each other, survived together, held each other up when things got unbearable.

and then, after everything—after all they’d been through—portia disappeared.

she didn’t call. she didn’t visit. she just… left.

at first, quinn tried to rationalize it. maybe portia was just dealing with things in her own way. maybe she needed space.

but as time dragged on, the silence felt less like an accident and more like a choice.

it reminded quinn of her mother—all those nights she sat alone in that house, waiting for something that would never come.

she told herself she didn’t care. portia was just like everyone else. people leave. that’s what they do. but she knew she was lying to herself.

i got a bit too carried away with this ask sorry 😭 actually thinking abt copy and pasting this for her intro post prob! but here you go :33

[pass3ra]

cressida's storyline was genuinely shameful tbhhh it's like they started rewriting it in the first half of the season then completely forgot about the changes they'd made to make it fit the book plot and it just ends up making everyone else look bad😐 every character in the second half got a "penelope did nothing wrong" lobotomy so we ended up with eloise completely ignoring cressida being sold off to an horrible man (when she made every effort to support her in the first half of the season) and for some reason resenting her for pretending to be lady whistledown? Then they somehow frame her ignoring colin's offensively bad pleas as it being her turning away from redemption when all she's trying to do is escape being trapped in the country with her likely abusive aunt... and it ends with her meeting her horrible fate and it still being framed as tragic only to immediately juxtapose it with the bridgerton family winning the idgaf war while gleefully seeing off francesca and her future dead husband. The bridgertons were the villains of the season frfr

[honorary-perfectionist]

melliot verse headcanons i forgot to post on here ft my old url pt 1

ghost story in reblogs :D

[cultistradio]

do YOU like melliot ? en abime ? just generally want a cool blog to look at ? then YOU should check out my AWESOME FRIEND over at @haowenyang !!!!!!! if you’re a melliot fan you probably already know him to be fair BUT can’t hurt to interact with his BANGER POSTS more often !!!!!!!

[theintrovertbean]

Main 6 and the types of high heels they'd wear

Because it's 1 am and I'm writing a little something about high heels.

Asra

Nadia

Julian

Muriel

Portia

Lucio

[kat-rose-griffith]

I just realized that in episode 8 right before the solicitor comes to threaten her, Portia is sitting looking out the window in the seat that Penelope use to gaze at Bridgerton house from. ​She’s lonley with all her girls married off and she misses Penelope specifically