#and i've never really...shared it in that much detail with anyone beyond just like maybe 2 people in my real life

[songbirddoodles]

If I made a side blog exclusively for self ship purposes would you guys (all 4 of you) promise to pretend it doesn’t exist. Be honest

[luna-loveboop]

So... Warriors

It is obvious by now he's not ok. He's irritable and tense.

I've had thoughts and ideas on this for awhile, so I think now's a good time to speak them. Very important detail at the end.

There are some really big and some small things adding to his stress

The drama with the sword. Wild went against the agreed plan, and lashed out in anger fear for twilights injury. From things Jojo said, Wars is mad about it for a while.

I have said this in other posts, but based on things Jojo has said and some details, I do not think Wild likes wars. He has not really gotten close to him, which adds on to the negativity between them

But Wars... is a captain. This journey is different, and he's doing amazing at setting aside expectations of how to work with rank. But that is still a clear stressor- to him that was unacceptable in battle

^this is one big thing we watched go wrong and has clearly been upsetting since

Another thing is

Wars has been taking on too much. We've seen him break up a fight at the inn, comfort Time (time!), and tell him he'd take care of the others.

Twice he said "let them", and "let him be"-making others have space they needed. He asked Four what was wrong and followed up with helping with smithing.

^^These are all small things. None of these are huge- practically tiny tasks. But they add up- all the attention to others feeling but not his own

... and

Wars has not smiled. Yes, he smiled, but it was not his smile. Since Twilight went injured to the inn, there has only been smiles in a way expected, but not much beyond when he found out his friend wasn't dead. (And when he helped Four at the blacksmiths)

In the updates, I have seen others saying how cool/pretty he looked. Which he did! But emotion wise, I only thought he looked angry. Even when teasing Twilight...

^Not his smile

But here's the biggest thing that I believe is bothering him...

I've wanted to point this out for awhile. The thing is, Wars was really hurt when he found out Twilight didn't tell him about Wolfie

It's small details. A few sentences and facial expressions. But they add up over the chapter, and I don't think he felt trusted or trusting when he found out

He tried to find out who else knew

And why he was one who didn't

*read the blurred words:

"No one said anything to me, I'm just left out of the loop. Who else knows? Just us?"

Wolfie being secret wasn't necessarily about trust, but wars took it personally. He really didn't understand or want to accept that Twilight would have told some of the others but not him...

Wars is distinctly closer to the ones his age, who the younger ones often turn to. And as someone who's been through war, who bonds closest with those he feels he works with best?

Twilight having a major secret he didn't share with Wars, but did with others,

Felt like a knife to the (back?) chest.

And it hurt him

Look at his face when saying "we couldn't do a thing for him". He's looking away, directly after asking four and wild if they knew. I don't think he felt trusted. Or trusting. From thinking someone wasn't who he thought he was, and maybe was closer to others...

^^this is what I think is perhaps the biggest stressor- yet most unnoticeable

Wars never spoke to anyone about his feelings. He pushed it aside and went and helped.

This is ok. Between people so close, anything can be worked out. This is very revealing of how much Wars cares about twilight and the others

As far as Warriors pushing aside his needs and focusing on others... it's hard.

But I can confidently say this: Warriors would never want to not help all he could, when the others needed him

Here's this screenshot that makes me laugh (and somehow sky is just chill with this?)

Wars: oh my god my friend just came back from a wolf what the Hylia who can I even trust I'm having an invisible crisis

Sky: oh yay the sword helped he's back :)

Twilight: I'm fine *currently dying*

Wars is stressed right now. He's taken on too much, he's probably still mad at Champion, and... he feels betrayed (god wars should never have to feel betrayed) and untrusted

Like literally everyone ever others, wars deals with his hurt. Sometimes he can't deal with it alone, and sometimes he can. It will all work out, and I love how much he loves his brothers.

But nothing, I repeat nothing

Will be ok

IF HE DOESNT START WEARING THE DAMN SCARF SOON CMON WE HAVENT SEEN IT IN LIKE TEN UPDATES

PUT ON YOUR EMOTIONAL SUPPORT SCARF CMON MAN

Ok I'm calm <3

.

Art and comic by Jojo @linkeduniverse :D

[nezuscribe]

I have a lot to say but I don’t know how to phrase any of it so I hope that this will make some semblance of sense.

Firstly, I want to apologize if I ended up spam liking with arranged!Gojo. I came across this universe earlier today and I’ve read as much as I could within the scraps of free time I have today. I think I’m fully caught up and I can’t wait to read more of this in the future! (Assuming that you want to or have interest in continuing to post this universe)

For some reason, your reader deeply resonates with me. She’s someone that I’ve tried to outgrow, (sorry again if this gets too personal) out of fear that I could never have a friend, let alone a group of people that I’ve discovered and be honored to have met them. It pains me to say this, but I think a part deep down inside me has given up on finding the person, a person that I click with and will love more than anyone else — platonic, romantic, or whatever flavor of love it’ll come in. However, after years of trying to shake off (although at times it feels more like hiding) things that I coincidentally have in common with your reader, I think I have the hesitant, terrified hope that maybe something like this could happen to me- that I’m not destined to be alone as cheesy as that sounds… So seeing reader get their person is incredibly inspiring for me and I’m beyond ecstatic that they got their happy ending!!

Your writing with arranged!Gojo is everything and more. I’m afraid that it will haunt me for the rest of my life (in a good way I promise!). It’s so melodic, so realistic and raw and… human?

(If that’s not weird to say, that is if it was and I’ve offended you I apologize again, I’ve- never did something like this before so it’s all unfamiliar to me. Forgive me as I stumble through a forest in the middle of the night with a blizzard with only a thin cloak, a faint lantern to keep me company, and hope that this will be well received.)

I guess I’m trying to say that as I’ve read more and more of your works, I feel… something now and I doubt that I could ever absolutely leave behind. A sense of yearning? Hope? Feeling seen maybe? I’m not- quite sure and I doubt I could ever figure it out, nor do I ever want to.

Man, this is probably a mess to read through and understand so I’ll try to wrap things up to prevent torturing you any further with this nonsensical rambling.

Thank you. Thank you, for sharing your ideas and headcannons with arranged!Gojo. Thank you, for sharing your unique writing, that has happened to resonate with me (I’ll spend eons trying to untangle bits of myself from it and I’ll never be done), and probably others so intensely. Thank you, for providing hope and some confidence that someone (I couldn’t dare hope for many people), could like me for me (shy, scared me instead of the more outgoing personality I act like), for being a moment of calm in a storm I never realized I was drowning in. Thank you for so, so much. It might be a bit too early to say, but I think you might’ve changed my life in a small way, if not a large way. Sincerely, thank you.

- a new supporter

And again, if any of this made you uncomfortable or was too personal or too anything, feel free to ignore and delete this ask! I just- wanted… no needed to try and convey a fraction of what I felt and thought today.

Also, I don’t want to rush you or make you uncomfortable or anything but I would love to have the opportunity to bind everything arranged!Gojo in the future if you’re comfortable with it? I’m happy to talk more details in a private chat, if you would like? (Is that the correct term? I’m not too terribly sure.) I’m also planning on giving you your own personal copy too, if you would like it that is I don’t want to accidentally force you to do anything.

omg thank you so much for sending this in it really made my day <3

and i totally get you nonnie don't apologize. the reason why i write my reader the way i do is because i've lived my entire life believing that something is inherently wrong with me, and that i have to fix myself in order to make somebody like me. and so i get what you're saying and feeling.

i'm so happy that my fics changed your mind, however. i write in hopes that other people can relate and maybe be able to know that they're not alone. and don't apologize for spamming, i get happy knowing people actually read the stuff i write !

and at the end of the day i really hope people take away the simple idea that they'll be loved no matter what. if not with my fics, then with all the other wonderful authors tumblr has. i think we all hope to be loved like that one day, and to know that it's possible and deserving too!

and i would love to see what you have to offer with binding! i've never considered it before but that sounds really cool:)

[wedontdeservethestars]

Johnny x fem! Clown reader

This is such a cute prompt idea! I've been doodling clowns a lot lately in class so this is strangely relevant to my life rn lol.

Content: fem!reader, really just a lot of fluff!

“I was thinking,” Johnny began. 

“That’s never good.” 

A roll of the eyes, a nudge of your shoulder. “C’mon. This one’s good.”

“Fine. I guess I can humor you for once…”

Johnny stuck his tongue out at you. He swirled his drink in his glass–a White Russian. “The execs are thinking of a soft reboot for Ninja Mime. And, well, y’know…I know you’re not big on film work, but I was thinkin’a bringing up the idea of a team-up sorta thing. Like, you know: me as Ninja Mime, and you as your cute little self. We could call it…” He raised his hands for dramatic effect, as if imagining a title all up in lights. “Fool Fighters.”

“Like ‘Foo Fighters’?” you giggled. “That might have some copyright issues.”

“Nahhh, I could pull some strings,” he smirked. “Okay, okay, imagine: it’s been years since the defeat of Dr. Commedia. Things have been quiet for Ninja Mime. He’s been relaxing in his penthouse in Paris, drinking wine and eating bread and kissin’ babes and whatever. And then, one day, he gets a cry for help from another fellow clown cutie–that’s you–and he falls head-over-heels in love with her. Dr. Commedia’s son, Art, is taking up his work, and is determined to spread his anti-laughing gas prototype all over the city, turning each and every citizen into a boring zombie of frowns! The clown girl found all this out because she’s Art’s sister and Commedia’s second child, but she wants to spread joy and laughter, so she takes her insider knowledge to Ninja Mime! And then it’s a Romeo and Juliet kind of thing between them, she wants to kiss, he wants to punch, neither of them can be together, and then at the end after Art is defeated, they finally share a gorgeous kiss in front of a sunset. Or, like, and explosion. Maybe both!”

“Oh, wow.” For a moment, you didn’t know what to say. You were impressed with his depth of detail on the concept, but at the same time… “You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am.” Johnny smiled. “It’ll be badass! Plus, it could put you into the spotlight. Give your career a push into the mainstream.” 

“I guess so.” You nodded and smiled, but your eyes betrayed how conflicted you felt.

“You’d be getting calls left and right!” Johnny chuckled, until he realized that you seemed torn. His smile fell into tight lips. “But…you don’t want that…?”

You sighed and leaned back on the couch. Dating Johnny was wonderful, but it was also a little strange for you. It was like a looking glass into what another realm of entertainment life was like. Actors got so much recognition and stardom (mostly rightfully so!), and other performers like dancers and singers were typically hailed similarly. But, as a clown, you were different. You were a performer, yes, and and actor too, but it was character work. Very specific character work. Between shows and occasional circus acts and private events, you were more disconnected from your work life than, say, Johnny was, who would get recognized just walking outside to get the mail. Hardly anyone recognized your clown character, and even less than that were you recognized beyond someone realizing they’d seen you in a commercial once from a side-gig you’d done. 

You kind of liked it. Clowning wasn’t about fame for you. It was about audience reactions. It was meant to bring joy and laughter and humility and even sometimes sadness to humanity. Clowning was a mirror. It was about laughing at yourself, a strange funhouse reflection of day-to-day life, and you loved it. You loved seeing people smile at your antics and connecting with them through your persona. You didn’t need the fame as long as you had that.

And while Johnny’s idea sounded fun, that fame made you hesitate. You didn’t want to be recognized just from a Ninja Mime reboot. That felt too unreal to you. That wasn’t clowning. It was acting in clown makeup. It felt strangely sacrilege.

“I think…I’d feel better about it if it wasn’t her,” you said slowly, referring to your clown-self.

“Really?” Johnny seemed confused. “I mean…yeah. Yeah, we could make you a new character if you wanted.”

“Yes,” you nodded. Johnny was still looking at you strangely.

“You don’t have to be in it, if you don’t want. I just thought it’d be fun. I don’t know.” He gave a flippant wave of his hand. “It’s—y’know what, never mind. It’s kinda stupid.”

“Hey, c’mon.” You pulled his large hand into yours. “I didn’t say any of that.”

“It’s okay,” he said again. Clearly, it wasn’t, but he was trying to put up a front. “I’m not gonna make you be in a movie against your will. That’s, like, cruel and unusual punishment or whatever.”

“I do,” you assured him. “I would love nothing more. It’s just that clowning is…it’s far different from acting. Same ocean, different island. I don’t think I would translate well onto the big screen.”

“Right,” he nodded. “So—“

“So,” you interrupted gently, “we do what you said. Make me a new character. She can still be a clown. Just not my clown.”

“Okay…” Slowly, that creative spark was coming back into his eyes. “Maybe she can be good at ranged weapons? Since Ninja Mime is mostly killer with the melee stuff.”

“Yeah!” You grinned. “She can have, like, little bombs shaped like juggling balls.”

“Oh, yeah! And maybe, like, a little flower on her top that sprays acid!”

You giggled at the thought, nodding along. “Fun! I like it.”

“And I was thinking—for costumes—we could do a cool contrast thingy, since Ninja Mime is all black and white and red, maybe you could have a rainbow motif or something. Or—no—cotton candy colors! You look really good in pinks and blues.”

“Aw, thanks.” You kissed his cheek. “But I think you’d say that no matter what the design team comes up with.”

“What can I say? You’re a cutie when you’re all dolled up in those ruffles and makeup.” He pinched your nose playfully. “Oh, and that round little nose.”

You giggled and batted his hands away. “Y’know, you don’t look so bad as a mime yourself. Always thought it gave you a sophisticated touch.”

“Oh, well, if the Cagester’s anything, it’s sophisticated,” he beamed proudly, kicking his feet up on the ottoman in front of the couch. 

“Uh-huh.” You decided to let him have that one. “Sooo…when exactly is Fool Fighters going into development?”

“See? Told you the name would grow on you!”

[darling-phoebe]

scary dog privilege ! judah zelinsky ❥ gn! singer! reader, part 1

gender neutral reader, mention of makeup use but makeup is for anyone idc. no use of y/n but i had to stretch to make that happen lowkey. nothing else really i'm just feral for this man and would let him do things to me that are concerning to feminism. thank u <3

─ [ . : ｡✿ ]

"so, tell me... your new album is a smash hit all across the globe. your song, 'bruised affections' is trending everywhere on social media. two months ago, you were living a normal life, and now you're a superstar. how does that feel?"

you were sat on a couch of your favorite late night talk show, late night confessions with stella goth. your hair styled perfectly, your makeup flawless. you were wearing a baggy white sweater with a big knit strawberry on the front, funky red bell bottoms, and black dress shoes, giving you the vibe that the world had fallen for; eclectic and down to earth.

"it's honestly really crazy," you admitted. "it's like you said, two months ago i was procrastinating my final essay for college, started goofing around and singing this song i was working on. my friend started recording me, and next thing i know i'm going viral?" you shook your head, smiling softly. "and of course it was a day i looked like a total bum. i think i had dorito crumbs in my hair still." you laughed, and stella laughed with you.

"any regrets? other than the dorito hair?"

you cracked a grin. "no, no regrets. i've always known music was one my true love. and getting to share it with you guys has been such a joy."

"it's been as much a joy for us, i promise," she replied, before standing. "ladies and gentlemen, our new favorite superstar!" as she said your stage name, you stood beaming, washed away in a sea of applause and cheers.

you stepped off the stage, and before you saw anyone else─ any family, any managers or pr crew─ you were greeted by your bodyguard. he towered above you, holding a bottle of water and one of your favorite sandwiches.

"you did great," he said, voice stoic and soft all at once. "now drink some water."

you smiled fondly. "aw thanks, you big softie," you said, before taking a sip. "we headed to the after party?"

he shook his head, much to your surprise. "back to the hotel. easton─" your manager, "─wants you up early tomorrow for dance rehearsals, so you are on strict orders to go to sleep."

"party pooper," you teased, before shrugging. "i won't complain though, i'm exhausted. this week's kicked my ass."

"worth it?" he asked, his eyes seeming to scan yours in a way you couldn't quite explain.

"worth it."

the two of you walked back to judah's car─ he always insisted on driving, didn't trust anyone else to get you there safe. you admired how seriously he took his job. he thought of everything. you'd never met someone so dedicated, but you supposed that was a good thing in his field. you just wished he'd loosen up a bit, let himself have fun. he never wanted to take a day off, insisted that he had to focus on your safety.

ah, well, maybe you'd convince him to look beyond his job someday.

when you arrived at the hotel, you were of course greeted by what felt like an ocean of reporters and paparazzi. everyone wanted to know what you were wearing, if you were going on tour soon, anything and everything.

you, being the sweet and still somewhat naïve person you were, tried to answer as many as you could.

"tour dates will be released soon," you promised. "people way smarter than me are planning all that out right now."

"and do you have a partner?"

"as in an opener for the tour?" you quirked your head. "not sure yet, but─"

"no, a relationship partner. boyfriends, girlfriends?"

"give us all the juicy details!"

"well, i─" you started, but your voice must've sounded strained, because judah quickly stepped in.

"we're focusing on music right now," he answered. "and we won't be taking any more ridiculous questions at this time, thank you." then judah placed his arm around your shoulders, and guided you into the hotel and up to your room.

"thank you for handling that back there," you said, as you stepped into the elevator.

"of course." his words were typically few and far between, his tone always so formal and serious. but there was a layer of fondness somewhere in there, something soft and affectionate. you were growing on him, you were sure. the thought made you smile.

if only you knew that your smile was one he'd kill for. one he had already killed for.

the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open. before you knew it, you were in your suite. "you sleeping on the couch again tonight?"

"mhm."

"y'know the record label pays for your own private room," you pointed out, not for the first time.

"if something happens, i need to be within reach," judah maintained. he stepped closer, looking down at you with a strange look in his pretty green eyes. "i can't let anything happen to you."

you shook your head, and took his hands in yours. it was an attempt to comfort his apparent anxiety─ you didn't know it only made his heart pound harder in his chest. like the most euphoric kind of heart attack. "nothing's gonna happen," you promised. "we're both safe. i promise."

god, you were so sweet. so perfect and kind. and so impossibly naïve.

"get some sleep," he mumbled. it wasn't what he wanted to say. he had a million other things on his mind. but he was worried it would shatter everything. what if, when he kissed you, you left? what if you wouldn't let him protect you anymore?

he didn't want to have to force you.

"you should too," you said. "i know you're putting on a brave face, but it's obvious how tired you are. you can't keep staying up just 'cause something might happen."

"okay," he said simply. "goodnight."

you beamed up at him. "goodnight."

as you got ready for bed, judah settled himself on the couch. he wrapped himself in the snoopy blanket you'd gifted him. it still smelled like you. before he knew it, before you even returned from the bathroom, he'd drifted off into sleep.

─ [ . : ｡✿ ]

in the darkness, there was a small jingling sound. then a clatter, a little louder. judah tossed and turned sleepily. a door creaked open. footsteps, quick and clumsy. loud enough for judah's eyes to snap open.

he jumped up, grabbed the intruder by the throat, and held them up in the air as the man struggled and choked.

"i'm going to ask you once," judah muttered darkly. "what are you doing here?"

"i─i just wanted─ a picture, th─that's all!"

he raised a brow. "a picture? of them sleeping? over my dead body." and just like that, he snapped his puny neck between his hands like it was nothing. he let the man fall to the floor, and stood over his dead body with an empty look in his eyes. "or your dead body, i guess."

faintly, he heard the sounds of stirring from across the room. a sleepy hum, the shifting of the hotel bed.

he walked over, calm as a light breeze on a summer's day. he stood at your bedside, then knelt down beside it. your eyes blinked open slowly, but you could hardly keep them open. "heard... noise? everything─ hmm, everything okay?"

"everything's fine," he promised, stroking your hair with all the care and tenderness in the world. "just dropped something. nothing to worry about, i'll get it cleaned up." you were moments away from drifting back into a deep sleep already, so he took a chance. "you're safe, my love. now go back to sleep." and he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

"i'll take care of everything."

─ [ . : ｡✿ ]

❛ i wish i was the pedal brake that you depended on ❜

part 2 coming soon

[diatomaceous-worth]

More on the youtuber au... (from this art)

Ok don't kill me but it's also a soulmate au. and because I've been drafting it for a long time and it might be good while before anything finished sees the light of day, here a detailed synopsis.

So...we can start with Alfred. He lives with his brother who is getting fed up that he's late on rent each month. It's been months since Alfred's graduated high school and maybe he'll enroll in the community college but he doesn't really know what he wants to do. He's just been working odd jobs. The best he can do now is at the pizza joint, which is always sure to never give him enough hours to go full time. But it's ok, because when he's not doing that he's making youtube videos.

He and Kiku would make them as kids, and now he's giving it his all, trying the cinnamon challenge, posting videos of him playing minecraft and crazy Dota moments. He's really hoping something will take off. But it's hard. None of his shit gets any views. Not nearly as much as the most fucking annoying youtuber: Arthur Kirkland.

He makes the most basic ass lifestyle videos like "my boyfriend does my makeup" and "going to high tea" or "animal crossing house tour" shit. Why millions of people care about that pip pip cheerio fuck is beyond him.

Something about him just irrationally ticks him off. Maybe it's because he doesn't seem deserving of fame. Maybe because Arthur has many times been petty and gotten involved in twitter spats that just make him look bad. Maybe it's because he's weird. In every video, he always wears gloves. He never takes them off, and he always dodges questions about it.

On r/KirklandSnark some people have picked up that he always wears long sleeves, too. The leading theory on the sub, which became such an often repeated and heated topic that Alfred banned discussion on it, is that he's hiding his soulmate mark. That it extends from his hands onto his arm. (Alfred's theory however is that he does it to seem eccentric for views)

But maybe it's true, maybe it's not. Alfred's gut tells him that Francis is not Arthur's soulmate. Alfred has noticed Arthur does share a lot about his life but he is also closed off in a lot of ways. Yet making a video on the topic of soulmates would only benefit Arthur. Youtubers talking about which soulmate mechanism they have, or how they met their soulmate; people eat that shit up. Because all the unmatched young people want to imagine themselves meeting their soulmate and how magical it could be, or they want to figure out which soulmate mechanism they will have.

Alfred doesn't openly admit it but he has spent way too much time watching videos like that. Can you blame him though? For being nineteen and never having felt any connection to his soulmate? If they even exist?? He has never woken up with words on his skin nor felt any sensation that wasn't his. Never seen a glimmer of a red thread out of the corner of his eye nor found any mark on his body that might tie him to another.

Meanwhile he has to sit on the bus and bear witness to strangers bumping into each other and freaking the fuck out about it because they said each other's words. They don't even carry barf bags on buses did you know that?

But Alfred doesn't want to give up hope. Someone is out there for him.

Arthur Kirkland on the other hand?

The topic of soulmates brings him misery. Soulmates are a blight. They are bloody inconvenient. Why should he be destined to anyone? Doesn't he have a choice? Will his dense as bricks soulmate every stop cheating on tests?

He was ten when the first ink appeared on his skin. He remembered how profound it felt. To watch the scribbles bloom over his arms and palms. He knew what it was, and he wrote back a simple reply. An introduction, his name.

The lack of response was the first step to his disillusionment with the whole thing. By the time he was in year 10 he resolved to stop looking. It was easier to cover up his hands to avoid catching whatever drivel his soulmate wrote or drew. They seemed dead set on ignoring him, and Arthur grew tired of wondering why his messages didn't seem to go through.

Occasionally he wouldn't be able to avoid it. The year Arthur tried uni was when the cheating started. First it was chemistry formulas and the next year it was math equations, all crammed under his navel in an absurd number of rows. Sometimes he caught the to-do lists written on the back of his hands. Things like "ch.2 east of eden" or "socks 4 matt". He tried to avoid catching those things, knowing that going down that path of trying to figure out who Matt was would drive him insane. But based on the spellings, he was sure he was American. And that was enough to put Arthur at ease.

His soulmate was far far away, and Arthur could be free to live his life and tend to his overly massive youtube channel (the one that afforded him a flat in London, dates with Francis, and even a meeting with the queen. (Never mind that the meeting with the queen was almost a disaster, that in the car before they set foot on the grounds he watched Francis's eyes grow in horror as they stayed glued to his brow, watching a crude sharpie penis appear on his forehead. Francis tried to scrub it off even, despite Arthur's protests (soap never worked, ever), but in the end an obscene amount of makeup saved the day.)

It was a lot to ignore, but continuing on despite it all was all he ever knew. So he entertains himself with his channel, savors the good moments with Francis, and occasionally indulges in the strange people who try to start drama with him online.

And this is where Alfred's "Why Arthur Kirkland SUCKS" video comes into play. Because Alfred's finally had enough of the mediocrity. And he just goes for it. Buys a stupid fake fancy hat and suit from party city (And of course his stupid gloves!), and rants to the camera about everything that annoys him about the guy.

"All his fans just like him for his stupid accent. Being hot and british is not an excuse for a personality! Look at me! I'm Arthur Kirkland and blimey the other day I had the spiciest cracker! Think they might have put salt on it!"

And Arthur has no qualms about ripping back into Alfred. It's only fair because Alfred certainly didn't hold back. Arthur's response video is fairly successful, and Arthur moves on from it, happy with the chatter it generated and satisfied that he out-roasted that git, while Alfred is so extremely shocked that Arthur responded to him that a week goes by in the blink of an eye and when he finally goes to check out the subreddit he's been neglecting, he locks every post discussing the video and finally approves the guy who had been bugging him to be the second moderator (some guy named Peter). It's simply too weird to see discussions about himself, and maybe the whole dedicated subreddit was a little too much...?

But back to Arthur, part of his decision to make the video came from its convenience. It was easy to make while he was moving. He moves to the US for Francis's career, settling in Chicago (and you'll never guess where Matt and Al live). They break up when Francis wants to move on (Arthur thought it was perfect to be with someone whose soulmate was dead, because then he could never complain about his own situation, but here's another thing that didn't work out).

Arthur finds himself living out of hotel, drinking too much, and on one night, ordering pizza. Alfred isn't normally the guy who delivers, but after the normal driver clocks out early, his boss forces him to deliver this order some asshole put in ten minutes before close.

It's very strange when he knocks on the hotel door, and Arthur Kirkland answers, fully clothed and gloved, staring back at him with a similar shocked recognition in his eyes.

...

crazy right. not going to say what happens in the hotel but I'll say that Alfred goes back home to his couch, dreams a peaceful dream instead of his frequent nightmares, and Arthur finds himself surprised that he wants to see his internet hater again.

[gingerylangylang1979]

Will Carmy become an addict?... Also, exactly what are his mental health (or other) issues?

This conversation is an offshoot of thoughts expressed here in conversation with @november-rising.

I'll start by saying I do not think Carmy is currently an addict or in recovery from an addiction. But, could Carmy become an addict like his dad (was he an addict or just a heavy abuser, we don't know) Mikey, and Donna? Maybe. Also, I hope nothing I write is offensive to anyone. If anyone thinks there is something I'm missing or misrepresenting please share and we can talk about it. I'm open to learning.

The statistic rates for people impacted by another person's addiction becoming an addict themselves is high. I myself had a drug addict mom and an alcoholic ex. I dabbled in drugs but never became an addict unless you count cigarettes and weed (no longer do either). How me and my brother didn't end up addicts despite our experimentation with hard substances is beyond me. All of the prerequisites were in place and I feel like we almost were tempting it like, come on, I know you want to take me, yet, neither of us ended up addicts.

Sometimes I felt it would make things easier. I think it was Lou Reed, maybe, who said something like addiction made life simple because then you only have one problem to deal with. I wish I only had one problem. I tried stuff as hard as coke, meth, and opium. I was a bartender and partied but never became an alcoholic. My brother went as far as trying heroin a few times. But neither of us became addicts. It's insane if you think about it.

Does that mean we didn't/do participate in fucked up self-destructive behavior? Hell no. Most of my life I have battled with trying to "be normal" all the while self sabotaging all along the way. But I never became an addict.

This is why it's so easy for me to see Carmy in all of his darkness and still see how he isn't necessarily someone doomed to become an addict. Nat didn't become one, me and my brother didn't become ones. I see a lot of us in Nat and Carmy. Carmy is way worse off than Nat, for sure. How, I dunno. And I would say I'm closer to Carmy in the melancholic creative way than my brother. So it's kind of a weird blessing that traumatized people who you would think would become addicts, don't, but it happens.

Could Carmy become one? I think if he continues to not address his issues with individual therapy, continues to blame himself, and just continues the same grind he wanted to escape, possibly. But I'm looking more to how Storer and Co. are telling the story as my signs more than Carmy's actual history. I guess I just don't see what the show would have to gain from Carmy becoming an addict. It would be a tragic ending. I'm not beyond them doing some tragic ending but I think it would just be kind of lame and what was the point if it ends with Carmy continuing the cycle and becoming an addict.

I see him and Nat as the second chance for the Berzattos. She is about to be a mom and hopefully will raise a child that doesn't have to witness any of the trauma she did. Carmy is trying to start over and I think as much as he is struggling now and it may get worse before better, I just see too many points of lightness for him to crawl towards/through. And I think this being so inspired by Storer's lived experience, I can't see him wanting it to end in doom and gloom. Chris and Coco are Carmy and Nat to me. They broke the curse. I think because of that he would want the show to reflect that.

Now, what the fuck is wrong with Carmy, in detail. I will start by saying we don't really know a diagnosis. I think common/possibly correct assumptions are a mix of anxiety, depression, and CPTSD. But I've also seen other ideas like maybe he is on the spectrum among other things. I'm not quick to say anything outside of the first three. He could be neurodivergent, but I guess what makes me not want to say that is because when people bring it up there is often this sentiment that it explains everything about him or that is takes precedent over his behavior being a reaction to his trauma. Two things can be true at the same time but I sometimes feel people apply neurodivergence in a way that dismisses how the average person would deal with a series of overlapping traumas.

The same way I see people assign Sydney as being neurodivergent and I'm like, or she could just be dealing with a lot of bullshit and trauma as a black woman? Because shit, I'm similar, does that mean I'm neurodivergent, too? Not to take away anyone who is neurodivergent and they relate to things they see in the characters. I'm just saying be careful to not dismiss common reactions to lived experience as such without more insight. Or sometimes people can be awkward or quirky without it being neurodivergence. Like sometimes it comes across as what we do know the characters have gone through isn't enough to justify what we see.

I will say I could see a case for Carmy having a learning disability. The evidence being his dislike for reading extensively and his very poor math skills. I think it was @eatandsleepwell who pointed out he only likes books with pictures. It's true. Most of his books are image heavy. And a lot of people are bad at math but he can't keep up with basic addition and subtraction (aka dyscalculia). But again, I think we are seeing evidence of this specific condition, not vague symptoms that could occur due to a number of things.

None of this is to say speculation or headcanons are not welcome. But to hard assign diagnosis is another thing.

[proton-selfships]

Oh! Oh! Are you and Laurel plant moms? 🥺 Do you two have little names for the plants and talk or sing to them? (via @me-myself-and-my-fos)

Listen. She did not have to go so above and beyond in doting on her plants to keep up her disguise. She knew enough about flower language to give a personalized one to every single student in her dorm. She made her entire science class about plants. So regardless of her having that persona, you can't tell me there isn't something genuine there and that she wouldn't be the mom-est plant mom to ever mom.

(And I've actually talked to friends about what this says about the fact that she uses the same plant-derived poison that her father had, and whether her attachment to plants ties back to her attachment to a family she no longer has—and, in many ways, never really had the way she remembers them. And if her attraction to strange and dangerous plants in particular also ties into her feeling like she could never belong anywhere because of who and what she is. Both of which are utterly heartbreaking to think about.)

Either way, yes, 100%, she holds conversations with her plants and gives them all names. She's not overly sweet about it, either, but just quietly matter-of-fact as she greets them and tells them about her day and her thoughts. If any of them are supernatural/sapient plants—and let's be real, some probably are—they would've known she loved me long before she did. She also tells them all about the process of adjusting to her new life after we get together, finding comfort in an audience that won't say anything back but will still show their gratitude for her presence and care in their own little ways.

Once we're together, she teaches me to help care for them and lets me name some, too! A lot of my names are references to various geeky things I like, contrasted with her names that are often from literature or folklore. Also, the first time I hear it is when she's quietly humming to her plants, which she would only do when she thought nobody was around since I headcanon that she doesn't like her own singing voice. After that, she'll occasionally sing to me when we're by ourselves, if only because she loves the way I melt when she does.

And when we get Pearl and have to relocate the many, many plants that are hazardous to cats? She gives them their own cozy little home, maybe in a secluded area of our new greenhouse that we've walled off so our baby can't get inside. That space becomes one of her favorite spots to read, or take a nap with me if it isn't too warm in there for me to tolerate for that long.

(Thank you so, so much for asking, by the way, Nic! I always love talking about all the lore and little details I've included in this ship. Laurel really feels like a realized person in my mind now with how many details I've either extrapolated from canon or headcanoned in, so getting to share her with everyone makes me feel all fuzzy inside! Anyone who sends asks like this, I'll love you forever ;;w;;)

[loulines]

I got my anniversaries mixed up.

Fuck.

Not that it matters. The thing on June 21st was something I confessed to someone which started a series of things that made me end up in therapy. Still ironic.

My fandom anniversary is about a week later. Can't really remember when exactly anymore.

Again, it doesn't matter.

I survived my first ever therapy session, that's what matters.

Normally I wouldn't write about it, in fact I haven't really felt like talking about the details for the couple of days, not even to my friends. My family doesn't even know I went there.

The only reason why I want to publicly speak about it is because I know there are many people like me who are struggling and on the verge of breaking apart, but they're too afraid to start therapy, or procrastination and executive dysfunction are kicking their ass. I can only hope to inspire at least one person.

I'd rather not talk about how I even got to that point aside from the thing I mentioned earlier because this should stay private. But it was that and also years of other unfortunate events that shaped me into the miserable wreck I am today.

I've been considering starting therapy when things were still somewhat "not great not terrible", but since I was terrified of talking to anyone, I did everything I could to not find a specialist.

Then, when I actually seriously considered getting the appointment, I have already done things I was even more scared to talk about with a stranger because therapist or not, the last thing I needed was to have someone confirm that I did morally wrong and unforgivable things...

And of course living in a hell of a homophobic country doesn't help either.

Hundreds of mental breakdowns later, and buckets of tears I've cried, my irl friend told me that I should really look for someone to help me. My first reaction was of course, "no way I will do it," but then she told me that she's looking for a therapist herself too. And she told me about her ways to look for someone.

So eventually I spent some time on research, wrote down some names and then left it like that without making an appointment.

It was fine. I did the first step anyway and that was what mattered. A few days later I was getting out of another meltdown and then I just... I grabbed my ipad, went back to the list and made an appointment with the therapist that "seemed" to be the best for me.

And that was it.

I almost started crying while I was signing up because it felt like I was making a life changing decision. And idk... Maybe because I finally agreed with myself to get the professional help I've been avoiding so much in the past.

On the day of the appointment I was stressed AF but it hit the catalyst 15 minutes before. I thought I would pass out and I don't know if it was my nerves or the heatwave or both.

And then it happened. Again, I don't want to share any details. Some things got clearer right away and made me feel calm now, the rest is still confusing. I definitely need more sessions. I might attend them feeling less stressed though. Hopefully.

I don't want to draw any conclusions now. I don't want to examine myself in search of finding immediate changes in me and my POV... That's gonna take a while and just because I've been feeling slightly better for a few days and not s**c*d*l (as usual) doesn't mean I'm already fixed. I'm not. I'm still beyond broken and more than confused.

Tbh I know absolutely nothing about mental health. All the attempts at trying to understand what is happening to me or others were only making things worse. I used to think I can DIY my own therapy without stepping out of my comfort zone. I cannot.

Had I started therapy earlier, say 8 months earlier, maybe I would be in a very different situation right now. And the people that were affected by my mental fuck up would be as well. Maybe things would be so much better now. I will never know. Time can't go in reverse, what's done is done. The only thing I can do now is to trust a specialist and hope I chose the right one.

And wait.

For days, weeks, months, maybe years...

Until life is good again.

[akira-no-tsubasa]

I haven't blogged in a long time. I stopped writing because I felt like I didn't have anything to say but also too much to say.

In the past 6 years I've grown a lot and learned a lot. I fell in love three times.

The first time I fell in love with someone who was just kind. He was everything I needed after being in an extremely toxic and abusive relationship. We never fought and he never got angry with me. But in the end I had to end it because he had no motivation to pursue his goals, I couldn't bring up the things that were important because any argument would make him cry and I'm the type of person that is constantly trying to move forward in life. I was not content with staying just comfortable forever and I couldn't live with being the only one trying to make our lives better.

The second time, I fell in love with someone who was a kind and good person. He was like a knight, always saving me, always protecting me, always doing the right thing. I learned that I need more than just physical affection and protection. I need emotional support and sometimes just understanding. He saved me from the family that was killing me and he defended me against the people that were trying to hurt me. But despite everything, despite how hard we tried to keep it together, there have always been things about me that he wanted me to change. I was never the perfect person for him. I just wasn't enough for him... we weren't enough for each other. We weren't what each other needed. And because he's a good person and I'm a coward. He let me go so I could be with someone he felt would make me happy. The perfect knight until the very end.

It hurts more than anything in the world. I knew a long time ago... I fought so hard but in the end it didn't matter. I loved him, I still love him. I'll always love him. My life savior... and I couldn't give him a happy ending. I just want him to be free, I want him to be happy. Maybe now that he doesn't have to protect me anymore, maybe now he will be... now that he's free of me.

The last person I fell in love with took me completely off guard. At first he was a friend, he genuinely made an effort to get to know me. I've always been afraid of showing people how dark and twisted I am on the inside. Afraid that they'd run away if they saw all my flaws, afraid they would try to fix me and then realize I was damaged beyond repair and give up on me. But this person opened up to me first despite knowing I was too afraid and unwilling to open up to them in return. They trusted me 100% with their own darkness and insecurities. Each story shocking me because of how much I could relate to it all. It just gave me an urge to make sure he knew he wasn't alone. I didn't want him to feel what I felt when I opened up to people.

The first time he shared a really personal detail about himself and how he got through it and how he dealt with it made me see how strong he was as a person. He was the first person to ever make me feel inspired to be better and the first person to make me feel awe. I had never met anyone who went through similar if not worse circumstances than mine who still came out saying they were not only going to survive, but they would fight to be better, chase after their dreams despite all the odds, and bring other people up with them.

It was the scariest but most thrilling thing about him to me and I witnessed him do it. He makes things happen by pure force of will. He's the first person to earn my respect as a person. He's the closest thing to the ideal person of how I want to be, how I constantly strive to be.

He was the first friend I felt like may have greater aspirations in life than me and my expectations of myself are ridiculously high. But every time he says he's going to do something, he does it. Anytime I talked about anything, it didn't matter how small it was or how dumb it was, he was always a good friend. He always listened, he never pushed unless I needed it, and he always knew what I needed when I needed it. I could say nothing and he always understood.

The first real breakdown I had in years, he was the first person to check on me. The only person that knew what I needed at that time and actively acted on it. Instead of comforting me with a hug or telling me the standard "it'll be okay", he knew why I was spiraling, that I was blaming myself for things out of my control, and calmly explained to me why none of those things were my fault. He gave me encouragement and told me he was happy I opened up to him and happy that I trusted him. It was the first time I thought I loved him. I didn't know at the time what type of love it was, but I felt just pure admiration, respect, and affection.

When he suddenly had a major health emergency even without him saying anything to me about it, I just had a really bad feeling... like something was very wrong. When he told me what happened and how he was feeling, I felt his pain. And I did my best to give him the same support he gave me. I wanted him to know that there was someone out there in the world that genuinely cared. Somehow just that basic care was enough to make him treat me like I was worth more than the world.

All I did was validate his existence... there's nothing more simple and basic as a friend than to just support them when they're down. Things started to feel different suddenly when he started to point out every little thing he liked about me but when I'd point out all my flaws he told me I was perfect with my flaws and imperfections. He thought I was amazing just the way I am.

Suddenly I felt so much confusion. We were so far apart in age, he lived in a completely different country, and even if he'd seen pictures of me and we'd talk everyday, we were friends and I hadn't broken up with my boyfriend at the time yet. Even if we seemed perfect for each other, that isn't necessarily going to be enough to keep a long distance relationship going. I know more than anyone that love sometimes isn't enough to maintain a relationship. Plus I was so confused by the feelings in general, I tried to brush it off as just really strong feelings of friendship, it didn't mean anything. Because that would be better for me and be far less painful for everybody.

But I could only lie to myself for so long. The day I felt one of the most frustrating feelings of loss, I took time out to think and I realized I loved him. I couldn't even enjoy the feelings of being in love... all I could feel was pain because I knew what I would have to do but didn't want to.

I hid for 2 days, sitting on what I knew I needed to do eventually. I was terrified of the change and terrified of hurting someone. Even more than that I was terrified it would all be for nothing. I was terrified I would regret it. I was terrified of losing my savior and my best friend. I was terrified of doing something I knew had been coming down the line for a long time. I was paralyzed by fear. For the first time in my life, I couldn't do anything at all.

In the end, I wasn't strong enough to break it off myself. Once again, my savior saved me, but this time it was at the cost of his own happiness. He told me the break up was mutual but we both knew the truth. He gave me an out because he loved me and because I loved him, I knew I had to take the out. I couldn't hurt him more than he was already hurting. I couldn't lie and pretend like everything was fine and that we could keep going as we had been. Even with all our problems, I fell in love with someone else. He knew it and I knew it and it killed him. Watching him suffering killed me.

My third love has been extremely kind and understanding of everything. I told them both everything. I could never lie to the people I love. We're trying to work things out, long distance is hard but he visits me. He flew here and spent extra money just to see me. He loves me, it shouldn't be surprising since from the beginning, he always just understood me and accepted me. We always understand each other. He always tries to do whatever he can to give me the world like I'm important and special. If I believed in soulmates, I'd think he was mine.

I never imagined my love life would get this complicated or difficult but I'm slowly trying to get through everything one step at a time. Eventually all the bad emotions with fade and I'll feel only good things again... one day in the future

[anntoldst0ries]

The Signs (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart 3, post Chapter 11 Pairing: Dr Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr Noelle Valentine) Word Count/Rating: 1.6k, T Summary: After moments of passion and confessions, Ethan finds himself unable to fall asleep. Category/Warnings: Fluff, None

A/N: They are riding on Hawaiian waves, I am riding on the wave of fluff.

He witnessed the scene countless times during his career.

People squeezed in hospital corridors on horribly uncomfortable plastic chairs, air filled with hope of receiving the good news on their loved ones’ health, shared by many souls simultaneously. Wives resting their heads on husbands’ shoulders, mothers holding children perseveringly, their arms and legs numb and asleep. Some of them unmoving, save for shallow breaths and occasional blinks. Tired, on the verge of emaciation, haven’t had a wink of sleep in god knows how long.

How were they doing this? Where did they take this superhuman strength from?

Ethan could never fully comprehend this.

It was the sort of power he never really experienced in his life.

Until now.

Because when Noelle’s head found its haven on the sea of his chest, there wasn’t anything he wanted more than to become completely still, to hold his breath and be the pillow of safety she nestles up to.

He’d do whatever it takes to preserve her sleep, which, right now, was the most fragile and precious thing in the world to him.

It was a sign.

They lay in the aftermath of the afterglow, two castaways of the storm called life which, despite hurting them both really badly, also helped them find each other.

Them against the world.

Tropical Hawaiian air, sticky and dense, filled the room already soaked with lust.

It was heavy, failing to provide even the slightest relief amidst pervasive heat.

Because it was the type of heat that didn’t have much to do with the temperature.

It was the ardor of lovers.

Written on their curves were the stories of worship and promises of stories yet to be told.

They claimed each other's bodies a couple of times this night, engulfed in waves of desire bigger and stronger than the ones breaking on the shore outside the hotel windows.

The tidal waves hitting them, every next one with more might then its predecessor, their whole world encapsulated in the sounds of pleasure.

And something else.

In those moments, they were so much more than just a combination of skin, bones, muscles and ligaments succumbing to the march of time.

They were everlasting.

As doctors, they were reminded of their own mortality every second of every working hour.

But now, they were invincible, only if for a night.

When they moved in perfect unison, he saw something in her eyes.

He didn’t know what to call it, but he knew what it felt like.

Unconditional.

Their clothes and belongings were scattered all over the floor, the only witnesses of the wedding night fever.

It was the type of mess that was actually a proof of a perfect order.

The only kind of disarray he could live in permanently.

Signs.

Every cell of Ethan’s body craved sleep. But his eyes were wide open, defying the laws of gravity. And his mind was on overdrive. He couldn’t help but reminisce.

Two years ago he kissed her for the first time.

He could tell you exactly what happened right before and after the kiss. He could describe every second, every detail, every thought. But when their lips touched, he forgot his own name. And everything else he thought he knew.

A year ago he was fighting for her life.

Back then, Ethan didn’t know how strong he really was. Until being strong was the only choice he had.

Today, she was right here beside him and it was almost surreal. She was so close that he would notice the rising and falling of her chest. The rhythm of her breath.

It took him long to believe they could have a happy ending.

Too long, he kept reprimanding himself.

Yet the signs were there, if one only looked.

They were all around.

Ethan thought of all the people who made him the man and the doctor he was today.

Dolores. His first patient turned friend, the tragic and unjust loss. Baby Ethan’s fight. The night when nature played the cruelest eye for an eye game. Life for life. The night he started seeing Noelle Valentine through a brand new lens. He never told anyone, but seeing them so vulnerable awoke something in him. His own sensitivity, buried beneath the layers of grumpiness and indifference. Thick doctor skin.

Naveen. Ethan wished he could wipe the images out of his head. Seeing the man who taught him everything shrink and almost disappear was one of the hardest things he had to face in his whole life. Truth be told, he only made it through because she shared the burden with him. Because she saved Naveen. This delicate, slightly-built woman. The warrior. His Noelle. She made him so proud.

Louise. What his mother did to him was beyond repair. The cross he carried with him, anywhere he went. But in a short period of time Noelle achieved something he couldn’t do for years. Forgive. Never forget. Forgive and finally understand that even broken souls deserve the unbreakable love.

Dad. The man who, despite all the adversities, always had time for his child. But that didn't stop Ethan from resenting Alan for always justifying what Louise did. He couldn't understand, even though it was so simple. Love. In the realms of medicine, Ethan was in his element. But the concept of unconditional love was estranged. Until he met her. Not only did she mend the broken fence between father and son, but also showed him that some things truly are unexplainable and can only be understood with heart, not mind.

Tobias - his former best friend then best rival and now...best not to talk about it too much. Only Noelle had the power of talking Ethan into considering looking at Tobias in a different light. She laughed at the idea of holding the grudge forever. She challenged him and called him out on his bullshit.

Every relationship that meant something to him, had irreversibly been impacted by the force of a once clueless intern.

She signed them all.

Suddenly, she peeled away from his chest and rolled over to the left, so that her back was now facing him. Having covered her with a thin sheet, his fingers brushed her shoulder blades ever so lightly, as if anything more than this could hurt her.

It took all the willpower in the world to stop himself, for he wanted to touch every single millimeter of her being.

He wanted to draw the maps on her back. Maps of all the places they are going to discover together. The highways of their world. The plans of all the cities they will tower over. Write the words of pure adoration. The stories yet to unfold.

At the risk of looking like a creep, he slowly inhaled her smell. He wished there was a way to capture and bottle it, so he could carry it with him everywhere. His favourite perfume in the whole wide world.

Noelle shuddered lightly and the tiny movement startled him. Maybe she was trying to shoo a bad dream away.

“You are just a few inches away… and this is the longest distance between us I’m willing to put. No more running.” He whispered and kissed her hair lovingly. As if on cue, her breath returned to its regular rhythm, the tension leaving her muscles.

Part of him hoped she was asleep. Another wished she’d heard every single word. After all, he wasn’t best at translating feelings into words. Or maybe he was actually afraid that once he started, nothing would stop him.

Not only from telling her how he’s never felt this way about anyone, but also how everything fades whenever she’s around. How all the hospital drama dissipates, because everything is figureoutable as long as he knows she’s safe and sound. How, if he couldn’t run, he’d walk. If he couldn’t walk, he’d crawl. To her.

Today has done something to him.

Celebration of Ines’ love. Zaid’s speech. Being surrounded by people he no longer considered co-workers only. His friends.

Ethan lied. “I've never felt this way about anyone... and I don't know if I ever will again." Because he is certain he never will again. But more importantly, he never wants to.

Words echoed throughout his head.

“What I didn't expect was to meet the kindest, sweetest, most amazing doctor I've ever known... and the best friend I've ever had.” That was exactly what happened to him when one intern crossed the threshold of Edenbrook hospital...and inadvertently his life.

A crazy thought was born in his head. Completely irrational. And not a bad idea.

He hoped Zaid wouldn’t mind if he’d stolen the line and used it for his wedding vows. That is, if she agreed to share the rest of her life with him. There was always a dose of uncertainty.

But the idea certainly didn’t sound so scary anymore. Quite the contrary.

~~~

Noelle woke up in a couple of paradises simultaneously.

The tropical paradise.

The physical paradise of total satisfaction.

The paradisiacal view of Ethan Ramsey’s perfect body.

“Good morning.” She murmured to the man on the balcony, who, despite the heavenly view of Hawaii stretching behind him, had his eyes set firmly on her.

“Good morning indeed.” He replied with an unknown sweetness in his voice, that surprised even him.

And he really meant it.

This was a good sign.

Fantastic even.

Maybe the best one ever.

~~

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@openheartfanfics @choicesficwriterscreations

[taliah-tezel]

Whilst the night had certainly taken a turn she didn't expect, she was almost surprised by how much she wasn't surprised this happened. No feeling of panic, nor regret, just a warmth and a safety that she'd been denying herself for far too long. How easy it was to fall into him, she caught herself wishing she could just stay here. What else did she need when it was always him who brought her the most peace? Outside world be damned, really. A soft laugh that splits into a grin lights up her eyes as she watches the curve of his own. The blue in his eyes that always seemed to soften when they focused on her, he really was beautiful, made more so by the way he always knew how to take care of her.

Brushing her nose back against his, she sighs in relief when she hears that he does believe her. It was the truth, after all. She appreciated the affection, especially when the topic of conversation was still so raw and hurtful to her heart, not to mention the bruising still dark and angry down her right side, reminding her of how stupid she had been. "I never meant to scare you, or Nate, I never meant any of it." Taliah mumbled, tucking a hand under her head just so she could stay close enough to reach for his lips with her own. "Yeah, pretty sure I know." Thinning her lips, she pulled a breath in through her nose and settled a hand against his rib cage, right over where she knew his tattoo was.

"Do you remember, I once told you that sometimes I have nightmares? Awful dreams, reminding me of things I try not to think about? My mom, usually." She knew she had briefly told him once, how the minor details may change but the dream was always the same. Starting out nice and ending with her mother in flames. "Since Serkan died, I've been having those dreams nearly every night. I think the trauma bag was just too full to add anything more into it, I tried to carry on, and then everything started feeling like a chore. I couldn't focus anymore at work, so I took leave, I thought that would help but all it did was give me more time to make bad decisions. I wasn't sleeping, or eating properly... I guess some things just aren't meant to be ignored." Nodding softly. "Realizing that, accepting it... It wasn't something I was willing to do," she figured it went without saying that she was just scared to let in that pain.

"But I am now. I mean, I wish it didn't come to what it did, but maybe that was the push I needed. I feel ready to get my life back now I can see how much I let it slip away from me." Taliah swallowed a lump in her throat, smiling with a pair of sad brown eyes as she lifted a hand to cup his cheek right back. "Anything?" Though she felt like she already knew what he was going to ask, it still made her smile just a little brighter. "I promise." And she meant it, wholeheartedly. "I always turn to you, Cole. I just didn't this time because I didn't let myself see that I needed help. You know that's the only reason, don't you?" Wanting to assure him that she always had, and always would literally run to him whenever she needed someone. "I'm so sorry, for what I put you through. And I'm so grateful you showed up when I needed you the most. I knew you would," beyond doubt, she knew he would always show up for her and it honestly meant more to her than she could ever express with mere words.

"I guess I just wasn't as strong as I thought I was," chucklingly, though it wasn't out of any humor, she shrugs a shoulder. "I'm working on it though. Actually, I've already started picking up the pieces. I have a new job," Taliah's eyes lightened with a warm self-pride, cheeks splitting into a dimpled grin as she wanted to share her achievement with him, before anyone else. "Before I took leave I applied for a new position, I just assumed I'd lost it but it turns out they've been holding it for me until I was ready to come back, which is really nice, actually." Nice, in the sense that it made her feel worthy, like all her hard work had been recognized, there were people who believed in her abilities. "You're looking at Tonopah Valley's new Fire Chief. Signed on the dotted line this morning," practically beaming, the red tint in her cheeks deepened as she waited for his reaction.

He didn't know why he'd said it– eyes on me. But in that moment, the why mattered very little when his risk had been rewarded the way it had when she actually stared back at him. Caught up in that moment with her, Cole had the fleeting yet distinct thought that he could lose himself in those brown eyes forever if she let him. He felt safe there, locked in her gaze, even if it rendered him completely vulnerable– he was never afraid to be with her…and right here, right now, Cole figured he couldn’t get much more vulnerable than he already was. But that was alright– he knew she’d keep him safe, and keep him wild, and he’d do the same for her. It was why falling together this way with her felt as natural as breathing, why he knew then and there that he’d never get enough of her– the way she felt, the way she sounded, all of it. 

Body still trembling and quaking with every aftershock, Cole grinned down at her, noting the blush in her cheeks still visible even in the dim moonlight glowing overhead. As if taking a mental picture of her, he tipped his head to the side, studying that lazy smile of hers and trapping his bottom lip between his teeth in response to it. It was like every single thing she did managed to do something to him. Cole could honestly say he’d never met anyone with that strong of a hold over him. Grinning playfully at her question, he shrugged a shoulder, "Felt like the gentlemanly thing to do," he teased, stifling his laughter by catching her lips in another kiss, knowing there was nothing gentlemanly about what he'd just done to her. All teasing aside though, he took all of her cues as signs that she was okay– that she wasn’t looking to run for the hills after what they’d just done. 

Sighing contentedly as she settled in at his side, he relished the kiss he’d started, wanting nothing more than to keep leaning into it if it meant staying in this blissful bubble they’d created. But…that wasn’t why he’d brought her here. He’d ignored the elephant in the room long enough and not giving it the attention it was owed was quite simply doing her a disservice. Taliah deserved better than that. But Cole wouldn’t be who he was if he didn’t at least take advantage of their closeness in the process. Snuggling in even closer after hauling a sheet over them, he couldn’t help the way another shudder rocked through him rather noticeably as every line of his body seemed to fit so perfectly against hers. Quite frankly, he was realizing now that it was the effect she had on him– how every little touch ignited something within him that he couldn’t possibly explain. 

Soothed by the way she brushed his hair aside and traced the firm set of his jaw, Cole eased out another sigh despite the frown now settling between his brows as the conversation shifted. While it relieved him to hear that she hadn’t been trying to hurt herself, it didn’t settle him entirely, but it was enough for him to release the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, “I believe ya,” he murmured, lightly nuzzling the tip of his nose into her cheek before his lips found hers, quite literally trying to kiss the sad dip out of her smile. Now might not have been the time for him to kiss her, but a smile as beautiful as hers didn’t have room for sadness and Cole couldn’t help but want to try and kiss it away if he could. 

Easing back, he steadied his gaze with hers, readying himself to absorb everything she had to tell him– good or bad. Somehow, holding her gaze while they were having sex was easier than it was now, but Cole didn’t balk when she started in, revealing to him how even something as natural as breathing had been so difficult for her. Swallowing thickly, he shifted against the bed of pillows and blankets he’d made for them, but still, he didn’t take his eyes off hers. In a lot of ways, Cole appreciated the way she laid it out for him, as he often felt tongue-tied even at the best of times, unsure of what to say or how to say it. Now was one of those times, something he wondered if Taliah could just sense about him simply by looking. It wouldn’t shock him if she could. Nevertheless, it didn’t make the truth any easier to hear, and naturally drummed up a whole host of questions he didn’t plan on bombarding her with. He’d only hit her with the ones he felt were the most crucial– the ones he’d held back the night of the incident, but now couldn’t silence. 

“Ya know what got ya to that point?” He asked, his head adopting a curious tilt as he washed a hand down her side, settling it against her hip with a gentle squeeze, “Why ya felt like ya couldn’t breathe?” Keeping his gaze trained on hers, his fingertips trailed delicate patterns along her skin, tracing the rise of her hip. That was ultimately what he wanted to know– what had pushed her to that point, what made her feel like jumping was her best bet. There was a little voice inside his head telling him that if he knew, maybe he could help in the future– or at least know what to look for. But really, it was hearing that she’d felt free during her fall that saw to his breath hitching in his throat and a slight shake of his head as a frown sank between his brows. Naturally, that information bothered him, but Cole did trust her when she told him that was it. But…on the off chance that it wasn’t? He wanted her to know that his arms were ready to catch her far quicker than the bottom of a cliff was. 

“If ya ever feel a weight like that again,” he started, trailing his tongue across his lips as if to help coax out the words he needed her to hear, “Can ya promise me somethin’?” The hand stationed at her hip drifted up her side, relishing each dip and curve before finally cupping the side of her face. Leaning in, Cole knocked the tip of his nose against hers in a silent plea, “Let me carry it with ya?”

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 21

First time reader click here

TWs/SUMMARY: Wanda fluff, Loki fluff, we're getting a whole ass friendship! Dad sucks. The outfits are neat tho! Check the end for a mood board 😍

a/n: dress inspo and aesthetic visuals can be found here, here and here. (Paolo Sebastian, Firefly Path gowns and Viona Ielegems photography).

"Gi-i-irl..." Wanda drawled, seeing me arrive with Tony, both of us freshly showered and still hazy from the amazing orgasms. God only knew what she'd seen in both of our heads - if judging only by the vivid, crimson blush she spouted, it was definitely something very NSFW. Bruce already sat at the dinner table, quietly slurping his soup, his back and shoulders the most relaxed I'd ever seen. He gave me a knowing smile once he noticed my presence in my usual spot by his side.

The rest of the team appeared completely oblivious, preoccupied by their food.

"So, about the party. Got any costume ideas?" I cut straight to the chase, unwilling to wait for Wanda to start asking for details right in front of everyone.

Steve, Bucky, Pietro, Thor and Natasha all answered affirmative, the latter whacking Clint upside the head and firmly stating "no funny business". I couldn't help but wonder what kind of crazy shit the Bird had in mind and was kind of disappointed at Nat's intervention. A good chaotic moment was always worthwhile in my opinion!

The other bird, Sam, approached Bruce with caution as he wondered if the scientist was interested in doing a paired costume with him, only to be interrupted by Tony declaring, with childish glee, he had a "wicked project" that he and Bruce would be doing together. The scientist gave a resigned sigh and apologized.

Sam wasn't deterred by the slight setback; he approached Clint instead and after being given an okay from Natasha, the Birds decided to pair up. As they should, if you'd ask me.

"I have a costume but I need some accessories. Wanda, Lokes, join me on my lil' shopping trip?" I prompted, wanting everybody to be included. I was fully prepared for Loki to scoff and dismiss my invitation but the Asgardian nodded after a second of brief speechlessness. Didn't anyone invite him to birthday parties as a kid? Either way, Thor gave me a grateful smile, like a proper big brother. Both Asgardians had grown visibly closer during the past couple of months which made me hide a secretive smile behind a spoonful of soup.

It turned out, Loki hadn't exactly been introduced to the buzzing beehive that is NYC. He didn't get out much and when he needed to be somewhere, the man simply teleported to the desired destination. As convenient as it must've been, I still expressed my outrage at his lack of experience doing the usual "touristy" things that, in my opinion, every non-newyorker was obligated to do when visiting. Yes, even if said visitor had literally traveled across different galaxies.

Wanda wasn't much better in terms of city knowledge. According to her, she'd lived here for several years already but never bothered to go beyond the borders of the block surrounding the Avengers tower. The witch didn't have friends outside of her teammates (therapy. they all needed so much therapy. y'all...) so she simply saw no point in going anywhere beyond the local mall.

Which was trash. I mean, I loved Hot Topic and Forever 21 as much as any other young adult with depression and anxiety but it was literally impossible to wear clothes made out of cheap cotton and polyester all the time. I'm pretty sure I would have hives and ulcers if I attempted that.

"We're going on Sixth Avenue and that's final. No friend of mine will be wearing shit from Wal-Mart at a Stark party," I interrupted Wanda's defensive stuttering, using my other hand to summon an Uber.

"That is good advice," Loki, previously silent, added in a sweet tone. I counted on the fashionable Asgardian to be on my side and with his schmoozing skills, I didn't even have to drag Wanda inside the car by, like, her hair or whatever. The three of us barely fit into the small Toyota anyway.

A thought struck me when I had to consciously avoid stepping on Loki's leather shoes and keep away my elbow from Wanda's stomach. "Mister? I'll give you a hundred bucks cash if you turn around and drive to this address," I hurriedly rattled off my home address, delighting in the way the driver nearly did a U-turn at the mention of crispy dollar bills.

We arrived home quickly. Wanda gaped in mild disbelief at the size of my house while Loki looked about as interested as he'd ever be. His face was akin to an expression one made while smelling fresh manure. Opening the garage, I was greeted with an unpleasant surprise of my dad's outrageously painted Corvette standing neatly by my white Range Rover.

Loki looked and felt considerably less tense in the back of my car. The subtle signs of discomfort all but left his face replaced by slight wonder as I explained how to adjust the temperature and turn on the heated seats.

Dad met us at the gates. "You didn't come in to say hello," He pouted. His breath reeked like a five-day drinking binge hangover and he looked a dead man.

"We're in a hurry, dad. There's a lot to be done," I replied curtly, hoping to get rid of him fast. I hated being sober around my drunk father. My fingers twitched on the steering wheel.

"You're like your mother, always busy," Dad's laugh was coarse and bitter. "But at least you find time for Stark and his friends. That'll do your future real good," He clapped once on the hood of my car, heading back to the house with a wave of his hand, just in time to miss the disgusted shudder that ran through me.

I knew my dad well enough to understand the implications of what he meant by his words. In his world, fucking way up to the top was considered the norm. I'd rather cut off my own foot than use Tony that way.

"Sorry you had to see that. I thought he was still in Cali," I gritted my teeth, pulling out of the driveway.

"I'm sorry you had to experience that. I have no kind words regarding your father," Loki's look was sympathetic in the rearview mirror.

"Or your mother," Wanda added, messing with her seatbelt. Loki nodded tersely.

"Aight, aight," I sighed, set on improving the mood. "Let's not poop this party. We're getting some absolutely delicious beverages and wasting my money on outrageous pretty things. My treat."

Wanda's protests were drowned out by Motorhead and Loki's grumbling was overshadowed by Guns'n'Roses. Their resistance didn't stand a chance. Few blocks out, the witch was singing along to November Rain, heavily accented and terribly off-key, and the Asgardian watched New York city intently behind the protection of the tinted rear windows of my ride. He seemed mesmerized by the crowds and the variety of colorful shop fronts. This was the the one and only reason I eased off the gas pedal and drove the speed limit for once.

The atmosphere was, well, magical. Looking at my two companions, I discovered the familiar city anew with every question they asked, every remark they made. The desire to ask in turn about their homelands melted like the tension I was harbouring after the run-in with my father. Content and warm, I had my attention divided between Loki and Wanda juggling their wonder back-and-forth between themselves and the absolutely crazy NYC traffic.

So what if I parked in a no-parking zone just to get us the most delicious coffee in the city? Loki, the resident tea person, ordered himself something unpronounceable, something that made the barista twitch. Wanda got a sugary-sounding vanilla-white chocolate perversion. I just got a mocha, having had outgrown my adolescent desires to experiment with "how sweet can I make this coffee before I literally puke?" beverages.

With a laugh, I instructed them to pose in front of the nearest reflective surface to brag about our coffees on Instagram - this café deserved more recognition. My companions reluctantly obliged.

I wonder if the barista realized just who had bought the coffee - Loki was quite a media darling when it came to fangirls. Tony's PR team did a wonderful job on the Asgardian's redemption arc. The trickster only fueled the utter devotion his fangirls had for him by being extra nice and charming in every video I've seen. I guess you can't out-mindcontrol manners outta somebody, he was raised a prince after all.

It wasn't raining but the autumn chill seeped into the tiny spaces between my layers of clothing. I already managed to regret my fashionable dark academia inspired outfit at least twice, however the matching vibe all three of us had was positively dashing. Loki, wearing his usual onyx black and dark green. Wanda with a burgundy sweater dress and thigh high platformed boots - sweater dresses, out of all things, had no business looking this good on anybody. But she pulled it off.

"You said you've got a costume. Mind sharing what it is?" The witch said, curiously peeking into the windows of a nearby vintage boutique as we took our leisurely stroll with steaming paper cups keeping our fingers warm.

"A fairy dress. It was custom made for me last year and I actually didn't get to wear it. I need some jewelry to go with it," I explained, stopping to show a photo of the dress on my smartphone. "And some shoes, too. Let's hope the party will be held completely indoors, otherwise I'll freeze my ass off."

"Custom made?" Wanda squeaked, looking at the garment in wonder. Loki gave a vaguely approving nod.

"Yeah, there's a company that makes these fantasy dresses. You want one? What did you have in mind for your costume anyway?" I switched the topic quickly, seeing how Wanda withdrew into herself slightly. I heard from Peter she grew up poor, in the middle of a war and I didn't want to make her feel bad or anything. I wasn't good at these things...

"I thought maybe I could match with you," She replied, slowly taking a sip of her coffee.

"Sure. There are a couple of shops with really cute dresses that fit the aesthetic." Marchesa. We need a Marchesa store. And a Zuhair Murad - if there was one on this stretch of road. "What about you, Lokes? Anything in particular strike your fancy?" I asked our silent companion, frantically googling the information I needed.

"Black," He answered moodily.

"Boo, you whore," I rolled my eyes at his scoff. We had watched the Mean Girls recently and he got the reference, immediately raising a sarcastic eyebrow. "You know, you could do so much with this pale aristocratic look you've got going on. How about a medieval vampire?"

"Like Lestat? He's fucking hot," Wanda and I understood each other promptly. She jumped on the bandwagon immediately.

Combining my blunt honesty and her adorable fawning over a fictional bloodsucker, we managed to convince Loki into going on a hunt for brocaded, velvet suits and blouses with ruffles for his look. The trickster revolted at the mere suggestion of procuring some fake fangs, instead magically making them appear and showing them off in the middle of the crowded sidewalk, much to my and Wanda's delighted shrieking. He looked, I daresay, very attractive, like a porcelain figurine. Delicate but dangerous.

We arrived at the store that showcased beautiful, airy dresses of silk, chiffon and tulle. The lace was delicate and the seams invisible. I ushered Wanda into a dressing room with a shop attendant that was quietly but strictly instructed to not discuss the cost of the dresses and hide the price tags.

"I want it to be a gift. My friend here deserves no less than a magical experience," I explained quietly, winking at a bewildered Loki.

"Why did you do that?" He asked once Wanda was given a selection of several dresses in flattering colours and led into a separate dressing room.

"These dresses, they're special so they're a bit pricey. And knowing Wanda, she'll make a scene and refuse to let me buy them for her," I idly twirled my phone in my hands. "But every girl wants to be a princess and it's kinda sad she never got to be one. It's more than just a dress, it's more than feeling pretty, although it's a big part of it. She'll feel on top of the world."

Loki nodded. I'm certain he didn't understand it - being a man and all - and I wasn't sure I understood it completely, too. I never lacked pretty or expensive things, always got whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. But for a moment, I thought how it must've been for Wanda - seeing all these girls on TV, looking like pictures - and never having the chance to experience that. A concept that made me so sad, I was tempted to ask the customer service person for a glass of scotch. Being poor sounded depressing as hell.

Suddenly, Loki's cool, large hand landed on mine. "Thank you. I am certain Wanda will be the most beautiful lady at the ball."

I stared at him. Loki understood.

"Well, I... I don't know how finicky you are on gender labels for clothes, but there were a couple of blouses you might want to check out. They've got the neck ruffles and shit." My throat suddenly seized up and I had to clear it before speaking, steering away from the uncomfortably emotional moment. Thankfully, Loki wandered off without as much as a word.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie

& the promised aesthetic

[thewolfmanslayer]

Honestly the amount of people who say artists and writers should do stuff for free, or try to rip them off on comissions still royally piss me off.

I think the worst part of it is the entitlement, I dont want to make this too much about generations but a lot of commissioners are millenial/Gen z's who grew up on the "steal and pirate everything" mentality, take everything that you can because no one else is going to hand it to you. which I can get behind, when you are screwing over MULTI BILLION DOLLAR COMPANIES. NOT THE STRUGGLING ARTISTS AND WRITERS who are trying to keep food on the table as desperately as you probably are!

It's simple, you wouldn't walk into a restaurant, order food and tell the server "sorry I don't have any money, but I've got like a few thousand followers on social media, I can get your name out there, get the restaurant some exposure" NO! They don't need "exposure" they need you to pay the damn bill!

On top of that, most of these artists and writers ALREADY HAVE FOLLOWINGS. They already have thousands of people following them, waiting for the chance to get a commission, who are willing to pay for said commission, they don't need "exposure" when they're already out there! He'll even the artists and writers with a few hundred don't need it, they'll get more followers as time goes by, their skill alone will see to it.

And what is with people trying to get free art and writing? It's not going to work! You can't harass someone until they cave, trust me, you'll be long since blocked before you even have the opportunity. I don't do comissions, online anyways, but my own friends and family, people who actually know me STILL PAY ME whenever they ask for me to do art for them because they KNOW it takes TIME AND EFFORT.

How many times do we need to have this discussion???? Like when is it going to finally click that people who need to pay their bills just as much as you do AREN'T going to do this shit for free!?

Here's the thing about art and writing, that you've heard a billion times but still aren't getting; IT. TAKES. TIME. AND. EFFORT. TO. GET. DONE. the art isn't going to magically appear and the writing isn't going to suddenly write itself, if either were so convenient YOU WOULDNT BE ASKING AN ARTIST OR WRITER IN THE FIRST PLACE!

Look at that, you see that? The first picture I did back in 2012-13, the picture beside it? I did that TWO YEARS AGO. I didn't suddenly know exactly what to do, or had anything close to a god given talent for drawing (I'm not that talented). The first picture WAS THE ABSOLUTE BEST I COULD DO AT THE TIME THAT I MADE IT. In the time between these two drawings I admittedly took a break from art, but then I got back into it four years ago. EVEN STILL that was four YEARS of starting over from the basics, relearning everything, learning new things, wanting to actually improve my art.

Which, guess what, DID NOT HAPPEN OVER NIGHT. It was HOURS UPON HOURS of my limited free time as an adult drawing over and over and over and over again, every single goddamn day to get to the point that I was able to make that redraw look as good as it does in comparison. He'll, my art now puts them both to shame! Because I spent the time improving my quality!!

Now look at these artists doing comissions, they've probably put EVEN MORE of their time to get that good! They've put in LITERAL YEARS of sweat, blood, tears, frustrations and dedicated hardwork. Some did the same as me, self teaching and lots of practice, others probably had to go to school, which definitely wasn't cheap. But all of us put in that time and effort TO REACH THESE POINTS. Of being better artists, developing our styles, getting faster at drawing.

And maybe you think that this is super easy, right? That I or every other artist can just fire some art off and boom its good and done in like an hour?

FUCK. NO.

Even now it takes me several hours a day OVER MANY DAYS to make something exceptionally good! It doesn't matter how good an artist is, it still. Takes. Time.

Maybe the issue is that you don't understand how much actually goes into art, let me break it down for you, the steps that most people follow to finish ONE drawing.

-Rough draft: general character outline, get a feel for what I want to draw.

-Rough sketch: I start doing a bit of pencil to start filling in details like mouth, nose, eyes, hair, clothes. Ect.

-Penciling: I go over the rough sketch and clean everything up, maybe do some editing, this is when you can start making out all the details.

-Ink: I trace over the finished pencil with a pen tool and actually have the line art, everything looks clean, presentable, it actually looks like a character now. I'll spend time editing this and possibly redoing the inking many times over to get to a point where I like it.

-Flat color: I decide on which colors to use for skin tone, clothes accessories. Ect.

-Shading/highlights: I figure out where my light source is and how strong it is, I then apply the correct amount of lighting and shadows to the color to give it depth, I also have determine the texture of skin, clothes and accessories to make everything look real and natural.

-Blending: I smooth out the shading and highlights so that it looks more natural and isn't too hard (noticeable difference between color) so that it looks as natural as possible.

-Finish: I go over last minute details, finish any editing or corrections that need to be done. Once it's good I call it a day.

Each process is longer in length then the previous, with the exception of the final editing (as long as everything looks good) and even the rough draft can take some time. Over all this is SEVERAL HOURS of work for a SINGLE DRAWING.

So is it sinking in yet? How much is put into doing even a single character drawing? God forbid if its done with background. This isn't a "scratch a pen around and be done with it in ten minutes" kinda deal, no, this is SEVERAL HOURS OF SOMEONES LIFE BEING PUT INTO THIS

And if you still have the AUDACITY to try and wrangle free art from an artist then there's no helping you, you're just a selfish piece of shit, no question and I want nothing to do with you.

Someone might say "But I got free art/writing from.-" look I don't give a shit if someone did something for you THAT ONE TIME, these other artists and writers? Totally seperate and different people. You're one freebie experience does not, and should not apply to other artists and writers.

"But what if I really want this commission but don't have the money right now?" Well, that's tough shit. Save up and properly commission them when you can, it's not their problem.

"But what if I'm in a really bad financial situation and really want it?" That sucks, and I'm sorry, but again, not their problem. Chances are this is their only source of income and they need to make money so that they don't end up in a similar situation.

"They have a gift! They should share it!" What kind of cheap ass- LOOK, just because someone is talented or really good at something does not automatically obligate them to do anything for total strangers in anyway shape or form. These are living, breathing people, the same as you. They need to eat, they need to pay rent/mortgages, they need to pay vet bills, send their kids to college, do their taxes and everything else that YOU YOURSELF need to do. Asking anyone to spend their time doing something for free, when that something is how THEY ARE SURVIVING is beyond asinine. Not only that, this obviously isn't a hobby to them, it is very clearly THEIR JOB. Would you want to do a job where you didn't get paid at all? Doing a shit ton of work for absolutely nothing? No? Didn't think so.

"It shouldn't be about the money!" Well unfortunately, as with almost every other job, it is. We live in a world where we desperately need to make money in order to survive. That's the painful fact of the matter. If money never had to be an issue ever again then this would be a very different story. But it's not, plain and simple as can be.

Look, these people are just like you, artists and writers who are just trying to get by in a shitty ass world, using the one thing they have that let's them have an income. Leave them be, don't try and trick them, guilt them, or cuss them out when you don't get your way. Either properly comission or leave them the hell alone, plain and simple.

[userpoe]

ever since my first watch of the sequel trilogy, i've been a whore for commander dameron as we know. and i've searched a shit ton of videos on youtube with his scenes and shit, and there was this video that never sat well with me. i never watched it but the title had poe and holdo and misogyny. and don't get me wrong, misogynists can fuck off, but poe wasn't being one of them when he want against holdo. and the way they made her a martyr at the end like she's some sort of hero pisses me off — ✨

buddy i know we’ve already agreed we’re soulmates, but man. we are soulmates. i agree with everything you just said. i’m gonna put this in a read more, because...well i’m me and this is gonna be long, and i don’t want to clog up anyone’s dashboard if they happen to be fans of you know whomst.

you know that “did x effectively utilize girl power” meme that’s been going around? that’s fucking holdo in my opinion, like oh my gosh. I have never understood the idea that Poe was misogynistic, and it annoys me to no end that THREE WHOPPING YEARS LATER it’s still apparently a popular opinion????? fellas [wild hand motions] how??????? 

(I’ve also seen people call Poe an example of ‘toxic masculinity’ and I’m just. Yes, the man who sews up the jacket in between an evacuation to give to his crush friend and politely introduces himself to Rey and also, yknow, flips his shit when his droid is damaged is a fantastic example of toxic masculinity, I have to laugh /s).

Poe’s actions are not the ones of a “sexist who doesn’t respect women”, they are the actions of someone who is highly and recently traumatized, faced with the VERY REAL threat of losing everything he has left, and the possibility that the person put in charge might actively be trying to tear down everything Leia has fought to build. The Resistance is not the Rebellion, the Resistance is 400 people and a handful of squadrons - that’s it. They didn’t have any support, they’re now actively fleeing for their lives, and now there’s someone in charge who seems plenty happy sacrificing most of their fleet, isn’t offering any hope to anyone, and refuses to trust people with her plan - yeah, I can see how Poe would be thrown and upset, yknow? 

I just cannot narratively read tlj in a way that paints Holdo in a good light, or paints her in the “right”, believe me, I have tried. I have tried to like her, but I just can’t. I’ve tried to understand her, and I can’t. Not really. And honestly, the more I explore the film, the more I inspect, the more I think I’m not supposed to?

I already shared an snippet from the tlj novelization, but like. if you thought the film was bad, she is horrible in the novelization. it seems like her favorite past-time is belittling Poe at any chance she can get, even when he hasn’t done anything. He follows her orders and aides in the evacuation of the medical frigate, doesn’t so much put a toe out of line, and she still grounds him inexplicably from aiding in any other evacuations and also bans him from the bridge? The book constantly shows us what the film doesn’t really get a chance to explore: how dire things are on the Raddus. The Resistance is losing hope, more and more people are giving up, and Poe spends most of his scenes trying to boost morale until, finally, when the last support ship goes up, he finally confronts Holdo.

I know some people have said Holdo is “warm and maternal” but I just. cannot see her in that way? I’ve seen Laura Dern play warm and maternal before, but Holdo does not come across that way at all to me. She makes me extremely uncomfortable, the way she’s constantly encroaching on people’s personal space (particularly Poe’s, in their first scene together? It makes my stomach churn). Especially the sequence when Poe’s unconscious and she cups his cheek?? like?? no get away from him do NOT touch him that’s creepy as all hell to me, I feel like hissing like a cat every time it happens like. no??????

I’ve genuinely started calling her “Purple Haired Tarkin” because she reminds me so much of him (and also because he’s the only other character in sw I dislike this much). I’ve actually made a parallel gif of them before, because I noticed how similar the framing is between Poe and her’s conversation with Leia and Tarkin’s on the Death Star.

And honestly, I’m gonna rag on her leadership abilities here for a second. I would like to point something out for a second: in tfa, when the Resistance is working out a strategy against Starkiller, everyone is present including Kaydel, who hasn’t even been made a lieutenant yet. Leia welcomes everyone in, trusts the people who work under her, which inspires trust in her.

Holdo doesn’t do that. You could make an argument that she didn’t trust Poe because of his recent demotion, however, Holdo doesn’t trust anyone except maybe one?? person??? with her plan??? out of the whole Resistance staff? Not to mention the fact that she seems to dismiss almost everyone? The way she calls Poe flyboy drives me up a goshdang wall, but also the way she reacts to Poe telling her about what Finn and Rose are up to “an ex-stormtrooper and a who now?” according to the wookieepedia, she brought...Rose...aboard the Raddus. and can’t be bothered to remember her name? And she doesn’t even consider Finn anything beyond “ex-stormtrooper” despite the fact that he, yknow, helped topple Starkiller and almost died fighting Kylo Ren.

Not to get on my rogue one bullshit, but trust has to go both ways!! rebellions are built on HOPE, Holdo wasn’t nurturing either of those things. In fact she was making things worse: in the novelization, Rose notes there’s rumors going around that Leia has died or that they’re planning a surrender to the First Order, which heavily implies Holdo didn’t even inform people that Leia had survived - Leia, who is constantly heralded as the Resistance’s main source of hope. And she’d ordered the techs to...tase and restrain people who tried to escape?????????????

And I also noticed the last time that I was skimming through TLJ that when Poe confronts her on the bridge finally, Kaydel is nowhere to be found, despite being there the last scene we had on it, where she questions Holdo on what her plan is, which makes me think that she might have banned Kaydel too??? from the bridge??? since Kaydel should be there working as a comms officer???

I’m cutting myself off here but this....isn’t even half of the reasons I dislike her so much. I go into more (coherent) detail in it, in that Kaydel fic I teased earlier but I’m still afraid to post it jatoajtoajtaota

[sheerioswifties]

Just a quick fyi to clear up some confusion.

I am not asking anyone for money at this time. I'm just trying to raise awareness of what's been happening.

I have called the police many times on these people. So there are reports. But the courts are closed right now due to the pandemic. Also, this has escalated beyond local law enforcement. We've been in contact with the state AG. It just so happens that today, Jeanette has harassed us again, conveniently on a weekend and holiday weekend when the AG's office, which we were directed to call next time this happened, is closed.

I have been asking for all these months for Taylor to read my dm's because there I've been sharing my story along with a lot of extra details I don't feel comfy sharing publicly yet, but which I know she will understand and believe, and especially because Taylor knows what it's like to have to go to court, through that whole process, and to trial, when you are the victim- and everything that goes with that which if you've never been to court omg just even as the innocent party you are RIPPED. APART. I hoped for maybe a word of advice or even just a "hey its going to be okay" from her or you never know, maybe she'd hook me up with an awesome attorney she knows and has access to that we don't. I just. I'm not and was not asking for her money or just attention. I guess this all just is hard to explain so you see it all the right way, there's so much context I still need to give...

But I had just, like I said, in the mean time, just wanted to sound the alarm, raise awareness, hopefully get my message out far and wide and have a lot of people who got my back here bc I'm facing this horrible thing that I'd hoped to just get away from, and start rebuilding my life in peace but it's escalated and it also feels like a responsibility to turn in the things they've done because they might hurt others, so we have to throw ourselves on the fire here. Everyone is going to be judging us, our story, and I just wanted to get ahead of everything.

I have to go. I'm in excruciating pain and so tired but can't sleep and now a migraine is coming on. I don't really know what else to say rn