#and done with an specific person's shit

[nebraskashouse]

okay then fucking weirdo

[iinryer]

this year i have posted [checks notes] 26k words of fic and. 76 drawings.

[youssefguedira]

I wish you would write a fic about irreconcilable artistic differences on a movie set between Joe and Nicky.

not really irreconciliable as in not solvable at all but you know i had fun with this

Joe squeezes his eyes shut, covering his face with both hands, and leans forward. His shoulders tremble uncontrollably. He takes a short, sharp breath, and another, and another, but he can’t quite seem to get enough into his lungs. There’s a lump in his throat and a weight in his stomach. He leans forward with a low, wounded sound and–

“Cut,” Nicky says softly. Then, because it takes Joe a second to hear him: “Joe, stop.”

Slowly, Joe raises his head. Wipes at his eyes and takes a few deep breaths to steady himself. Nicky’s already up, frowning ever so slightly as he looks at the camera. 

“What is it this time?” Joe manages. His voice is hoarse; he has to clear his throat once or twice. Nicky doesn’t look up. The clock on the nightstand reads 01.34, but Nicky’s changed it a few times over the course of the shoot. He has no clue what time it really is, only that it’s dark outside.

It’s just the two of them in the room. Nicky had wanted to keep this one small, just him and Joe and the camera. The apartment they’re in is nice, if a little empty, though Joe supposes that’s the point. They’re in the bedroom, Joe sitting cross-legged on the bed, shirtless, sheets bunched up over his lap, a phone lying on the nightstand behind him. One entire wall of the room is taken up by a floor-to-ceiling window which lets the moonlight in, though there’s a few low lights set up behind Nicky to send bars of silver light across the bed, because the natural light hadn’t quite been strong enough for the effect Nicky wanted. It’s otherworldly; it’s beautiful. 

Nicky still isn’t looking at him, so Joe says again, “What?” It comes out a little harsher than he means it to, but it gets Nicky’s attention.

Nicky runs one hand through his hair. Joe can’t see him well, not with the light behind him and the shadows in the room. “I don’t know,” Nicky says. “It’s missing something.”

Joe has worked with Nicky enough times before. It’s not that he doesn’t like working with him - they’re friends - but he can’t fucking read him, and so after the sixth take of the same scene he can’t help but take it a little personally. 

Joe reaches for the bottle of water hidden just under the bed and takes a long drink, mostly to keep himself from snapping. What time is it? “I can try again, but I can’t do this indefinitely, Nicky.”

“I know, I know,” Nicky says, fidgeting again with the camera, “it’s not you, it’s just–” 

“What else could it be?” Joe interrupts. He’s not stupid. This scene doesn’t work if he can’t get it right, which means the entire film doesn’t work if he can’t get it right. More than anything else, this one depends on him. No music, no camera movement, no dialogue, nothing but him and the camera. And he wants to do it right, he loves this project almost as much as Nicky does, but there’s a hollow feeling in his chest and he’s spent the last however-many-hours having a near-complete breakdown over and over again and it’s still not right. And Joe doesn’t know what it is he’s doing wrong.

“I don’t know,” Nicky says quietly. Now he is looking at Joe, and Joe can’t tell if he’s disappointed, or angry, or – or what. He’s perfectly expressionless, as always. 

Joe loves this job. And he wants to get this right. But it doesn’t mean it’s not one of the hardest things he’s ever had to do, and he’s tired.

“I don’t have much more left in me, Nicky,” he says, and this time he does snap. He wipes at his eyes again, can’t look at Nicky. He’s supposed to be making himself vulnerable, above all in this scene, but suddenly he can’t stand the way Nicky’s looking at him. “Pass me my hoodie.”

“Joe–”

“I can’t. I can’t keep doing this.” He kicks the sheets off and gets tangled trying to do it, grabs his hoodie when Nicky offers it, pulls it over his head in one fluid motion and gets out of there as soon as he can. Thankfully, there’s only Andy and Nile in the other room, Andy lying back on the couch with her feet up and Nile perched on the arm of it. They both look up at Joe as he enters, both look like they’re about to ask, and Joe can’t stand it, can’t be in here a second longer, can’t–

“We are done for the day, I think,” Nicky says behind him, startling Joe. He hadn’t realised Nicky was there.

Andy raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t argue. It’s already the second day of trying to shoot this scene: they’re running the risk of falling behind schedule. 

“We’ll find something else to do tomorrow,” Nicky says. “I’ll look over everything tonight. We will try this again on Monday.”

Andy and Nile look at each other. Nile shrugs. 

“Get some rest, Joe,” Nicky says. 

Joe shoves his hands in his pockets and doesn’t say a word.

–--------------------------------

He doesn’t get called in the next day at all, and he doesn’t interrogate it too closely. Takes the day off, pretty much, because they’ve only really got one scene left to film, and there’s not much more he can do for that. Nicky had wanted to leave it to the last, and Joe had agreed, at the time.

At about nine pm, someone knocks on his hotel room door, which is unusual on a day where they don’t have a night shoot to do. When he opens it, Nicky is on the other side. Joe lets him in without a word. 

“I wanted to apologise,” Nicky says, standing in the middle of the room and looking as uncomfortable as Joe’s ever seen him. “For last night. I was pushing you too hard, and I should not have done.”

Joe closes the door behind him. Nicky fidgets with the sleeve of his hoodie. 

“Sit down,” Joe says. 

Nicky does, settling himself on the edge of Joe’s bed, not quite looking him in the eye. Joe joins him, after a moment. 

“At the risk of sounding cliche,” Nicky says, “it’s not you, it’s me.”

Joe laughs, mostly because the phrase sounds so strange coming from Nicky and also because out of everything he’d thought Nicky might say, he hadn’t expected that. 

Nicky smiles slightly, too. Then he gets up and heads for the minibar. “Mind if I have a drink?”

Joe shakes his head. Nicky gets out a little bottle of wine, glances at the label, and takes a swig straight from the bottle without bothering to get a glass. 

“I can’t seem to get it right,” Nicky says. “You know I wrote almost fifteen different versions of that scene?”

The scene in the script itself is barely a page long. “No,” Joe says. 

Nicky nods. Rubs a hand over his face. “I wanted it to feel real. I thought if I could get it right, it would… help, somehow. I don’t know.”

It’s the exact same reason Joe said yes before he even read the script, when the whole thing was just an idea in Nicky’s head, when they were talking about it over drinks at Andy’s and Joe was in love with the idea almost immediately. He knew exactly why Nicky was writing it; he knows, now, exactly why it needs to be right. But at the same time – “I don’t know if that’s possible, Nicky.”

Nicky sighs. “I know.” He crosses back over to sit beside Joe again, takes another drink from the bottle. “But there is something missing, and I cannot seem to find it. And so it does not feel real. And I know this is not easy for you.”

“It’s not,” Joe says plainly. 

“But you know,” Nicky continues, “I could not have trusted anyone with this but you. If you had not said yes, I would not have done this.”

That, Joe didn’t know: he knows he’d been Nicky’s first choice, but he’d assumed that’s because they know each other well enough already. But it makes sense: the reason Nicky wrote the script is the same thing they’d bonded over. 

Even still, it’s a lot. “I don’t know if I can do it the way you want,” Joe says. 

Nicky looks up at him from where he’s been running his fingers over the label on the bottle absentmindedly. “If you want to stop, I can–”

“No,” Joe says quickly. “But I don’t think it’s ever going to be exactly the way you felt.”

Nicky looks away. “It is a lot to ask,” he says. “I know this.”

Joe doesn’t think; just reaches over and takes Nicky’s hand. “I know,” he says. “Trust me.”

Nicky takes a deep breath. Then he nods. "Okay."

[cluescorner]

I cannot imagine being a Damian stan right now. You've got both Zdarsky's bullshit (where he clearly doesn't give a shit about your boy) and The Boy Wonder (where Juni Ba clearly gives so many shits about your boy) coming out on the same day. The whiplash must be insane. I hope y'all get some nice warm soup for your efforts jfc

[crows-of-buckets]

I cannot get the idea of a da2 au where Malcolm is the surviving parent instead of Leandra. Would both of the twins have made it out? I think they would. Because like. Malcolm, unlike Leandra, can actually fight. I don't think either of the twins would have felt the need to protect him. Would the deep roads expedition even have to happen? I assume they would probably be worse off in this au since I don't think Gamlen would lend his aid. Obviously ignoring the very valid reasons why Malcolm would NEVER take his children to Kirkwall, or anywhere near it, how different would it be? Idk why it's plaguing my head rn but LORD

[bacchuschucklefuck]

if talking abt my friends after looking at another artist's work is gauche then Im about to take a hard left babeyy if chris grace's dropout special speaks to u and u like dnd actual play then u should watch metanoia blues live on twitch every sunday at mimzalot and also available on youtube at metanoia blues

[transrevolutions]

all the random committee of public safety drama seems wacky but honestly that's just how it feels when you're on any sort of team trying to run something but also half of you hate each other's guts with a burning passion. like yeah we all want to get vaguely the same thing done but it's rotten work. yes if it's me. especially if it's you.

[intotheelliwoods]

Gonna ask this to a few people that inspire me, but how do you take inspiration from things without feeling like whatever you make is just bad in comparison? Or like a downgraded version of the thing(s) that inspired you?

(If this is too negative feel free to delete/ignore, I'm sorry)

Oh gosh this is such an interesting question since, I dont think I really have feelings of thinking my version is bad? Or that I am just a copy?

I am honestly just grateful my work became as popular as it is in the first place haha- low expectations going in to begin with. That and, I am very aware my art style isnt as defined and polished as other peoples styles, but I have come to terms with this! And hey the improvement in my own artwork over the past year is a massive trip if you go back through some of my older stuff- I am improving, slowly.

I mean, 2AL started by complete accident, and was "inspired" from me wishing the Leos from OMO or MNMC would hug it out already- but if you were to compare 2AL to one of those, they are very different. Hell even comparing OMO and MNMC, same starting point, but still very different.

I think my only advice to other people trying to make an AU is to try and find some core theme/idea and work around that, rather than gather a bunch of little things from other sources you like into a big pile. Find some key message to start up a base with.

[moe-broey]

I think they're really cute as a platonic possibly even found family pairing, but. A Reminder

[rivetgoth]

being a name dropper (ie. person who constantly brags abt the celebrities youve met / worked with / are friends with) is always kinda tacky but its especially funny in the industrial scene cuz these guys are NOT that famous and literally everyone has met them. industrial musicians dont even do VIP meetups half the time cuz they just hang out by their own merch booths. they go to the smoking patio between sets and the unofficial afterparty when the show ends. ppl will try to brag abt meeting guys who have literally given me rides home from the club and i just have to be like yeah thats cool man.

[toytulini]

me, stupidly and weirdly resistant to listening to audio books vs reading a physical book for no real reason: man i wish there was a way to like, read a book while i crochet like i do with tv shows and movies and podcasts

[twpsyn-who]

People saying "Don't boycott Eurovision or Israel will win!!" - they already won the second they got past the semifinals. Israel is going to be the winner of this year, especially with the way things are going down at the moment.

You wanted Israel to not win? You guys should've made sure they didn't get to the finals to begin with- though I wouldn't doubt EBU would've changed some votes or pulled some bullshit to add Israel in the finals regardless of making it or not.

[sapphorror]

Okay but my favorite GIR moments are ALWAYS the ones that imply he's just aware enough of what's going on to know that the thing he's doing will fuck up Zim's day, and he still does it anyway, possibly specifically for that purpose.

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

honestly it's been really healing being back to actively contributing things and writing out thoughts on tumblr the last week or so, because while twitter tends to be easier for me to write out Thoughts on without getting overwhelmed, the environment in the twitter fandom circles i'm interested in is not only infested with antis but cliqueish in a way that is caustic to the fucking soul if you try to express a thought that's more than three sentences long--a hundred times over if you're autistic in slightly the wrong way--and it's incredibly reassuring to come back to an environment where the very kindest and most inclusive people toward you are not clearly thinking the r-slur the entire time they interact with you lmao

[dailykugisaki]

Day 130 | id in alt

I have no idea how Fushiguro dosent stumble over himself and so I made him do it.

Also Kugisaki I saw her run fast as hell girl was basically skipping.

[mariemariemaria]

Does anybody else feel like mental health awareness has done very little to help them in material reality