#as always critiques on my captions are welcomed

[ekingston]

Ok, I just spent the last few minutes doing nothing but staring at Kara in that DWTS piece and I don't see it AT ALL. Beyond being blonde I see absolutely no resemblance between your Kara and either Sara or Ava. It's just not there.

It's a gorgeous work of art. If anon needed to look at Lena’s hair (ignoring the fact both characters are clearly named in the piece and the caption) to figure out the blonde was Kara I suspect that they have worse eyesight than me without my glasses, and I’m not legally or safely allowed to drive without them.

And you would think that humans as a species would have figured out by now that “Not to be [incredibly insulting in one way or another] but [is incredibly insulting]” is not a thing that is ever ok to say to anyone at any time. “Not to be a dick but” then don't. Just stop talking and cut your losses there. Creatives in particular have already said it to ourselves a million times in our heads, we don't need outside confirmation that our self-doubt was right all along.

I had a chapter I posted with a note “this is the most nervous I have been about any piece of writing I have ever done. I hope it doesn't suck too much.” and then got a comment “Since you asked for criticism [here are all the reasons this sucked and one minor ‘compliment’ at the end]”. Like exactly what in that note says “yes I welcome people ripping apart something I spent the last several months agonizing over”? Nearly made me quit writing altogether. I do not understand the way these people think and hope I never do.

i’m sorry that happened to you! making something and sharing it with the world will always be two very different joys to me — creating is a given but publishing it is a choice, and especially when you first get started, putting your work online is an incredibly vulnerable & incredibly brave thing. i know how devastating having even one person receive it like that can be — good for you for not letting it stop you!

to be honest, i'm still amazed by how much the culture in the fandom spaces i’m in subscribes to the ‘don’t like, don’t interact’ idea. my first experiences with publishing fanwork (fic) happened in the early 1700s, when getting feedback was rare (most websites didn’t have a built-in function to respond, so you’d only get people going through the trouble of emailing you their thoughts directly) and when it did come, the comments leaned toward the brutally honest, like you had presented your work to a classroom of your peers ready to pick apart the things they thought needed work. (in other words, there were a lot of shit sandwiches.)

the thing is that anonymous critiques like that — while having their value, especially when english was still a foreign language to me! — will never be very effective, because they’re coming from a random stranger whose credentials are entirely unknown. i’ve always learned the most from friends whose work i admire and who i know are genuinely interested in helping each other improve. those are the people i want to be learning from (and with)! 

i’m sure you know this but it bears repeating how much of what we love about fanwork is exceedingly subjective, and the more you find your own style, the more you realize there’s not one way to ‘do’ art (whatever kind) correctly. no matter how ‘good’ your work is, someone will inevitably be unhappy with your choices.

so i assume most of the anonymous criticism we do receive is from people who aren’t writers or artists themselves, and that they’re clueless both to what they’re talking about and how their words will land. it’s made it much easier for me to shrug off their remarks and continue doing what i love. i hope you feel that way too! i hope we have an easy week ahead with plenty of time, energy and inspiration to create whatever we choose to!

[rawrrawr0221]

Obsessed (x)

[Image ID: a series of screenshots of YouTube thumbnails and titles. The first is titled “A new year and another 11foot8 box truck can opener“ with the thumbnail featuring a truck attempting to pass under a bridge. The second is titled “Two men and a truck that almost fit under the 11foot8 bridge” with the thumbnail featuring a truck, labelled with “two men and a truck” on its side, also attempting to pass under a bridge. The third is titled “Hope lost and bumped into the 11foot8 bridge” with the thumbnail featuring a truck with “hope” labelled on the side attempting to pass under a bridge. The fourth is titled “Right turn was the wrong move at the 11foot8 bridge” with the thumbnail featuring yet another truck attempting to pass under a bridge. The fifth is titled “Box truck carnage on Friday the 13th at the 11foot8 bridge” with the thumbnail once again featuring a truck attempting to pass under a bridge.

The final image is of a series of 3 videos. In order, “Raising the 11foot8 bridge by 8 inches” with a construction site in the thumbnail, “the new, shiny 11foot8 +8 can opener is open f...” before is gets cut off, featuring a sign of the bridge’s new, 12’4” height, and “The new can opener nibbles on a box truck”, with a truck attempting to pass under a bridge as the thumbnail. End ID.]

[r3almellow]

MLQC Boys With A Famous S/o

Here we go! Thank you anon for this request I hope its to your liking!! Apologies for typos as always!

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Kiro (YouTuber S/o)

How did you meet ?

You were a YouTuber that had over 500,000 subscribers. During a Mukbang Q&A video you received a question in regards to your celebrity crush. 

“I think the big ass poster currently behind me kind of gives it away, but my ultimate crush is Kiro. I’d give anything to meet him at least once.” You went even as far as to give him a shout out. “Hey, super star! I heard you were a big foodie and since you like to eat and I like to eat, maybe we can eat together sometime? Okay, that was dumb, please ignore this!”

Little did you know, Kiro was a huge fan of your videos and just so happened to see your request. Next thing you knew a clip of you “shooting your shot” made its way to his social media page with a caption of “Its a date ;)” right above it. You just about died when you saw his post. You were only joking around! Well...not 100% joking, but you didn’t expect him to respond! 

You spent weeks talking to each other through private messages soon after. Your messages filled with gushing over your similar interests, playful banters and light flirting. He offered to be a part of your next Mukbang stating that it was better to have two people eating themselves into a coma on camera than one. You couldn’t argue with facts and took him up on his offer! Kiro only had one condition...you let him take you out on a date afterwards.

And the rest was history. 

Dating

The cutest couple to have ever existed! 

Both of your social media pages are filled with couple photos. 

You both get to dress up in disguise whenever you go on dates! A baseball cap, sunglasses, and face masks are your usual go to’s, but depending on where you’re going you might be required to get a little creative. 

Dealing with overly excited fans and even more persistent paparazzi was a bit new for you, since your interactions with people is mostly through the internet, but you handle it pretty well.

Interviewers practically threw themselves onto every opportunity to get information about your love life. Kiro was more skilled than you about these things, so you tend to just laugh awkwardly and let him take care of it. 

Kiro appears a little more in your videos whenever he’s free which the fans are grateful for. Of course, your channel doesn’t turn into all things Kiro and you never use him for your own personal gain. 

Dating Kiro did open up some opportunities for you, like getting to experience award shows and networking with other celebrities and content creators. Again, you refused to throw Kiro’s name around just to get the things you wanted. 

You both like to bounce ideas off of each other, whether its for his music or for your latest video. Having two creative minds come together does wonders! 

You’re almost always somewhere in the background during his live streams.  

Gavin (Actress S/o)

How did you meet? 

High school. You were a part of the drama club and Gavin was...well...forced into being a part of the stagehand after being threatened with expulsion from his last brawl. 

You were the first one to welcome him. You were kind, funny, and cute. And when you were on that stage? Mesmerizing was the best way to put how Gavin saw you. You were inspiring. 

After graduation Gavin lost contact with most of his acquaintances, but he never once stopped thinking about you. Gavin wasn’t big on celebrity news, but he actually kept up with your progress once he got wind of a newcomer taking the entertainment world by storm. 

Fast forward to a few years later and he was playing bodyguard for one of the most successful actresses in the world. You. This was just an undercover job that was going to last as long as his target was still out there. 

There was definitely chemistry between you. And while Gavin wanted to act on his feelings, his work had to come first. You respected that, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to let him know you were interested. How could you not be? You had a huge crush on him back in high school and now that he was by your side practically every day those feelings came back with a vengeance! 

As soon as Gavin’s objective was complete he continues being your bodyguard stating, “Only I can keep you out of trouble.” Which you responded by kissing him.

Dating

Once word got out about you dating your “bodyguard”, it shocked many that you decided to be with someone that wasn’t a celebrity. 

Even so, Gavin doesn’t look like your average Joe. He has the body and face of man who could easily be on the cover of Vogue or Vanity Fair, but you know your man isn’t about that life. 

You’ve spent years being a private person, so when you and Gavin start dating not revealing much was easy. The public only knew what you wanted them to. 

There are a lot of at home dates filled with takeout and movie night. Just being in each others company is more than enough for you!

You work out together a lot! He’s really good about motivating you especially when you have to prepare for an upcoming movie. You honestly don’t need a personal trainer when you have Gavin. 

The paparazzi are afraid of Gavin. Like they won’t even get within six feet of you whenever he’s around. The last poor soul who got a little too close for your liking ate asphalt within seconds.

Gavin isn’t one for the limelight or the glitz and glam, which you appreciate. Its nice to be around someone that isn’t a part of the entertainment world. 

You don’t have to hide a part of yourself, in fear of judgement, whenever you were with him. You appreciated Gavin’s genuine nature. He was always truthful with you and he never gave the impression that he was only with you because of your status. 

Gavin does a great job with making you feel special. Whenever you feel like you don’t meet the standards of what the industry wants, he pulls you out of that dark hole and gives you the pep talk you need to get through the day.

You could walk around without an ounce of makeup on or trade in a Dior dress for sweatpants and a t-shirt, and Gavin still found you beautiful. 

Victor ( Famous Pianist S/o)

How did you meet? 

Victor was a fan of your work for quite some time. There was something about your raw talent that drew him to your work. He always made it a point to go to all your live shows whenever he was available, but has never met you personally. 

It wasn’t until you waltzed right into his office out of the blue. When he saw you enter his office with Goldman and two security guards tailing right behind you, he didn’t even recognize you. You looked as if you had just rolled out of bed with a messy bun, ripped jeans, t-shirt with some random cartoon character and thick rimmed glasses. His first thought as you stared him down with a frown was, “Who let this homeless person into his office?” 

When Goldman called your name as the two security guards grabbed your arms, Victor had to do a double take. The elegant and graceful woman, who commanded the stage with just pads of her fingertips, was...YOU?! 

Victor allowed you to stay, curious to know why you were here. You business with Victor was simple. You wanted funding to create music schools for low income families. You had sent countless emails to LFG with hopes to do business with them, but after being ignored the first few times and receiving a rude rejection email that morning, you were ready to take the bull by the horns. 

Surprisingly Victor found himself intrigued by you and thus started an interesting partnership. 

The more Victor got to work with you the more he became attracted to the headstrong, smart, and talented person who seemingly enjoyed ruffling his feathers every chance they got. 

You were also attracted to the blunt, detail-oriented man and it bothered you to no-end. What you saw in a man who probably would critique drawings from a toddler, you had no idea. But you appreciated his work ethic. He genuinely wanted you to succeed with this project and you couldn’t deny his heart was in the right place. 

The day the first school opened was the day Victor decided to stop tiptoeing around the mutual attraction and asked you out.

“We can celebrate your accomplishments over dinner.” 

Dating

The CEO of LFG and the child prodigy turned world famous pianist dating?!

CAN WE SAY POWER COUPLE?!

Whenever paparazzi get a picture of the two of you, you both look as if you just finished a professional photoshoot. You NEVER look bad in those photos. Never! 

And when you do professional shoots? It leaves people SHOOK. Magazines like Forbes have never had such a beautiful couple grace their covers before. Just wait until people see your wedding photos.

You always ask him to visit you during your rehearsals which he almost always declines but shows up anyway, if he’s not too busy. He’ll also bring a box of his homemade pudding because knowing you, you probably were too busy with preparations for your upcoming concert to eat. He’ll take you out to eat afterwards, but the pudding should hold you over for a bit.

Victor will never admit this to you, but your music helps him de-stress after a long day at work, so whenever he isn’t with you, your music helps him fall asleep. 

Victor also likes to watch you work. Seeing you so focused as you create your next piece was a sight to beheld. The pensive look in your eyes as you went over your music sheet, the slow nod of your head as your fingers danced across the keys as you intently listened to the melody, and the way your eyebrow twitched when you hit a key you didn’t like; all things oddly enjoyed seeing.

You’ll never catch him staring. He’ll pretend he’s working whenever you feel his eyes on you and if you try to call him out on it, he will most likely deny it. 

Lucien ( Novelist S/o)

How did you meet? 

You needed the help of someone knowledgeable with neuroscience for your next book. Someone recommended a Professor at Loveland University who specialized on the topic. That was how you met Professor Lucien. 

You two worked closely together once you started your manuscript, going over various topics under the neuroscience category. It wasn’t surprising just how intelligent the man was on the subject, but you were in awe about how much you knew.

Your meetings would often start at the university which led to you going home together once you found out he lived in the same building as you. You leveled up from the lecture hall to aquariums, movie theaters, restaurants, and his apartment where you had lunch or dinner. 

Your conversations never stayed on the topic of work. It often changed to your interests. You found that you and Lucien had a lot of similar interests like your taste in books and art. He also developed a love for teasing you. 

Seeing the look on your flustered face turned into one of his favorite pastimes.

When it came to the topic of your books, you learned Lucien has read quite a few of them and was very intrigued with your work. He asked you numerous questions, questions no one thought to ask. 

He admitted to you his favorite of yours was the first book he ever read titled, “The Boy Who Dreamed.” You jokingly offered to sign his book, but he declined with a smile.

“I’ll admit I do enjoy the book, but I’m more interested in the woman who wrote it.” 

Dating

More dates at your favorite places. 

Almost every other week, Lucien seemed to have tickets to art exhibits, festivals, or the movies. 

His teasing intensifies by a hundred! That man loves to tease you and you hate it! You love it. 

The closer you got to Lucien, the more you realized he didn’t enjoy talking about himself, so it takes a while to learn about him or his past. You never press him for information, but he does reveal things to you within time.

Lucien loves when you read to him. Its how he falls asleep and once you find out he has trouble sleeping, you always suggest what you call “story time.” 

In truth, having you by his side is more than enough to get him to sleep, but if you aren’t there hearing your voice will do the trick. You could be reading anything and he’d be fine with it. From Dr. Seuss to H.G. Wells, Lucien was fine with it as long as he got hear your voice.

You like to ask for his opinion on your latest projects. He does a great job making you think outside of the box which will make things easier or challenging during your writing sessions. 

Whenever you encounter writer’s block, Lucien will pull you away from your laptop and mountains of papers to enjoy a nice relaxing day with him. 

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Doooone! Please comment if you enjoyed this! I’d love to know what you guys think!

Want to read more of my writing? Check out my MLQC masterlist here!

[southern-belle-outcasts]

Rules- updated

Muses- Rogue (Marvel canon divergent 616 based), Nilza Valdez (urban fantasy OC), Farrar Kilpatrick (urban fantasy OC).Kaylee Starke (urban fantasy OC, Sara Lance- White Canary (Legends of Tomorrow CW/Arrowverse- ON HIATUS), Padmé Amidala (Star Wars canon- by request and hc memes or semi-plotted para threads ONLY. Memes you see CAN be used for this but I’m not responding unless we have a vague idea of where this is going as discussed). 

I don’t always follow. I try to keep my dash to things that spark joy. I reserve the right to not follow back or unfollow at all times, without need for explanation. If I am going to follow back, I will not do so until I can get the time to read your rules fully.

Blog is 18+ due to multiple facets of adult content. If I find out you’re under 18, you will be immediately blocked. No exceptions. I also do not ship with muses under 18. 

I do not tag all the possible triggers that exist. My content is pretty trigger happy- drug use, violence, language, sex, mental illness, death, pregancy and miscarriage, etc. If you truly have a trigger, hit me up and I can tag it for you, most especially for visuals but when it comes to my para replies with a partner that’s already cool with the content, I’m not tagging every little possible thing. Things I always try to tag: pregnancy, miscarriage, vomit mention, current events, politics, images of spiders. 

I do not require you to follow me to interact with me if any of this bothers you. 

I am a multi-para blog. One to three lines is not enough for me to work with and I will get both frustrated and bored. I have had enough years writing really short threads, I’m far more interested in having threads that give me details on your muse, their emotions, the setting, etc.

I respond with what I can get to at the moment and have the brain power for. I utilize rpthreadtracker and will try to get to the older ones when possible but this isn’t first come, first served around here. What has inspo at the moment is what’s getting posted. I don’t use a queue, I’ve tried, it never works. Feel left out, I really can’t help you there. I’m not half-assing a reply because you want me to kick you back a response the day of when I don’t have the words for it at the moment.

Reblogs/Likes: If you see that I’m utilizing a source blog, please reblog the meme/prompt from said blog. I understand when a source is deactivated, that I don’t mind. But I am not a meme source and will block if I’m being used as one.

Do not reblog an rp thread unless you are directly involved. Seriously. Don’t.

Fictions I have specifically marked reblogs allowed in caption or tag can be reblogged.

Liking here and there is perfectly acceptable. That’s normal. Mutuals please, by all means, don’t feel like you can’t like something I posted. However, liking every single post I put up clogs my activity. Please don’t, or you run the risk of being blocked. Definitely don’t scroll back through a ship meme liking ever post I’ve put up for the past three months. I think I burst a blood vessel that morning… Especially don’t like rp memes and not send. Just go to the source to like it if you’re saving it…otherwise you look dickish.

UPDATE- No NSFW will be written with muns below the age of 21, preferably 25+, otherwise will be a case by case basis for 21+

I do not roleplay for the purpose of shipping. I love my ships, I get involved with my ships, but I am NOT here solely for ships, and definitely not solely smut.

I do not require any sexual scene to be fully played out, you are more than welcome to tell me you want to fade to black. I’m not here for the sole purpose of writing smut.

I do NOT smut unless we thread regularly AND regularly interact OOC. NSFW threads are a means to getting to know my muse, and our muses’ relationship better. I don’t write it for the heck of it. I’ve made exceptions to this rule on occasion and it’s never left me feeling comfortable. As of 12/28/2020, any and all approval for NSFW is revoked unless you interact with me on a regular basis OOC and we have discussed comfort level. If you wish to plot further and get more interactions going, maybe an actual thread will evolve to NSFW content. If you have to rely solely on a meme on Sinday to elicit that kind of interaction, that’s your cue my muse doesn’t know yours well enough for a NSFW thread. 

Ships are unique to themselves, don’t expect identical interactions ever, and I do multiship. However, I have a few mains I will only ship with unless long time interaction provides enough chemistry to rule otherwise. I will only ship Rogan with @loganweaponx, and Matt Murdock/Rogue with @holyxdefender. I am not  limiting interactions to just those muses, ONLY the shipping aspect unless chemistry proves otherwise. 

While I only ship chemistry, you are welcome to yeet into my DMs and be like “hey fuckface my muse is crushing hard can we explore this?!” That does NOT mean the ship is guaranteed to pan out. Just because I agreed to explore this does not mean I mean I signed some contract on OTP status.

Do not come at with me with “I have a plot idea and it’s we ship our muses” or *throws smut meme in your inbox* and we never interact. Fast way to get ignored or blocked. 

UPDATE- unless you’ve cleared it with me, please do not make our rp thread interactions into your muse’s general canon. I did not sign up for that and it makes me really uncomfortable to think anything I write is being inserted into your muse’s canon and subject to critique in that manner. On that same note, I will not write with canon-inserts (forced oc child, parent, sibling, etc relationships) unless I have a means to not have it affect my own muse’s canon. I don’t even play canon ships until I’ve felt out our particular muse’s chemistry.

I do not have many triggers but I have a hardstop at m!preg (magical male preg), magical/spedup/otherwise exaggerated pregnancy, A/B/O, breeder, DD/l. I will not roleplay them, and if I see them on my dash I will immediately unfollow. Y'all are welcome to do as you want, but I’m not making myself uncomfy in my antistress zone. 

I will not use pregnancy/children as plot points but for a select few muse relationships where it is part of the natural flow of the ship and has been plotted as such, or our ooc relationship is good enough for you to know my stance on sending a pregnancy meme. 

If you have gotten this far, bless your soul. Have a chocolate chip cookie. Please send “room full of rocking chairs” to my DMs or askbox so I know I’m not chucking my words into the ether.

[roleplay-salt]

About; Rules; FAQ

Welcome to Roleplay Salt! This is a blog for roleplayers to vent & rant anonymously about the things that peeve or hurt them in the roleplaying community.

GENERAL

Your submission will always be posted anonymously; no exceptions. (This includes positivity submissions & shoutouts.)

Your submission’s text will be placed in a graphic and then copied as plain text as its caption for accessibility purposes.

Topics must be roleplay-related. (This can, of course, include experiences with partners doing things that may be unrelated to roleplay, but would still be considered relevant if it impacts your roleplaying experience with that particular partner.)

Anyone following our blog will be allowed to leave replies on submissions, whether in agreement or disagreement, and everyone is allowed (even encouraged) to reblog submissions, with or without their own commentary. However, we will delete any spamming comments, including ones that are or are similar to “Why don’t you come off anon and say that?” Such comments provide nothing to the discussion. In fact, they usually shut down discussion and it completely disregards the entire point of this blog’s existence. No one has to “come off anon” nor are they “cowards” for seeking safety behind anonymity. Your aggressiveness with that sentiment only reinforces the reason why they want to be anonymous in the first place. ADDENDUM: We will delete salt replies that involve simply telling others to, essentially, “shut up and move on already” and “stop sending salt replies in about this”. You’re more than allowed to say this things in the comments, but we will no longer be making them a part of any future debates.

We actively edit and restructure the wording of submissions. We read every single one of your submissions and we care about consistency and readability. We will correct any spelling errors, grammar errors, and odd sentencing structure, and we will often lengthen abbreviations and slang, and we will fill out any curse words or sensitive terms that were originally 'censored' in the submissions. Do not take it personally! Again, we aim for consistency. We will never just copy/paste your submission and then post it. That's terrible.  

T Y P E S    O F    S A L T

Vents & Rants

Complaints

Negative Confessions

Callouts

T Y P E S    O F    S U G A R

Advice & Suggestions

Critique

Positive Confessions

Shoutouts

T Y P E S    O F    F L O U R

The “Flour” category is reserved for any submissions that do not appropriately fit under “Salt” or “Sugar”, often involving personal confessions and storytelling.

C A L L O U T S    &    S H O U T O U T S

A callout submission is specifically speaking nastily and meanly about someone else, regardless if it’s the truth or not.  All URLs & names in a callout submission will be marked out to preserve the other party’s anonymity as well.  We are a safe place for you to release your anger, frustration and hurt, even if it’s towards someone and not something. But we cannot and will not participate in the true nature of a callout. That will need to be something that you do for yourself if you believe that it’s important for you, your friends and your fandom community.

A shoutout submission is specifically speaking kindly and positively about someone else.

All URLs & names in a shoutout submission will remain visible, and the person will be tagged & mentioned on the post so as to better the odds of them seeing it.

FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS

“Who are the moderators?”

Currently, there is only one operating the blog: Moderator Bull.

“Am I allowed to know your roleplay/personal blogs?”

Unfortunately, no. To preserve our own anonymity (for many of the same reasons as the submitters), we have agreed on the terms to never give out our URLs if requested. If we are interested in your blog, then we will follow you at our own discretion!

“Will you remove a submission for me?”

That depends on the type of submission, what it is about, and what your reasoning for wanting it removed is. The whole point of anonymity is that nothing gets tied back to you. The only cases where we will greatly consider removing a submission is if it’s involving a shoutout about you and you don’t want to be affiliated with us. 

“Will you remove my comments on a submission?”

Of course! However, we will not remove any corresponding responses to you (except in instances where, if yours is removed, the next comment is made to look like it’s being directed to the person prior to your comment. We don’t want to cause unnecessary conflict.) We will also not be relied upon to keep deleting comments you regret leaving behind. If you’re wanting to leave a public response on submissions, then you must be prepared to have others possibly publicly disagree with you.

“Can I ask you for roleplay advice?”

Go right ahead! But we can’t promise the best or most insightful of answers, or that we’ll get to them relatively soon! Chances are, we will post your questions anonymously so that others in the community can help.

“Why did you follow my blog?”

To make our existence known to you and, if you like us, hoping that you will send in a submission of your own or tell your roleplay partners about us!

“How did you find my blog?”

Most likely through the Recommended sidebar feature, a mutual, or just the good ol’ search function.  

“Could you unfollow me?”

If you don’t want to be associated with us, then we recommend blocking the blog so that we don’t unintentionally follow you again!

“Hey, could you do something about the people leaving rude, mean responses on the submissions?”

Unless they are throwing bigoted slurs, threats, or suicide-baiting remarks at the anonymous submitter, they are not doing anything wrong. They have just as much right to disagree with your submission as you had when you sent it to us. We are, first and foremost, a place to vent frustrations or hurts behind the safety of anonymity, and we are also a free-speech blog. We are of the belief that discussions, no matter how heated, is healthy and brings the community together as a whole. Just as your submission may provide someone else with the awareness that they are not alone in similar frustrations, someone disagreeing with your submission may provide a new perspective to you and others that had not been considered before.

“How does name-calling and swearing and being mean add to a discussion? You and your blog are what are wrong with the roleplaying community!”

Just because someone isn’t being nice to you as they give their side of the argument, doesn’t mean that it cancels out their actual argument. You’re choosing to be offended and distracted by how abrasive they are, and that’s no one’s problem to deal with but your own. You have the ability to block anyone so that you no longer have to see their comments on future submissions. Why would we police what people say, the endgame of which would be to ban them from ever reblogging or commenting on submissions again if they don’t listen to us, if you’re not even willing to try solving the problem first by just blocking them? Wanting to have the last word or being upset that your submission didn’t receive the feedback you wanted is not a reason for us to step in and step on someone else’s right to speak, rudely or otherwise. If you’re not going to block them, then why should we?

“Could you not post submissions on sensitive topics like noncon, incest, and pedophilia?”

We have started tagging posts that we believe might be sensitive and controversial in nature with the tag “#twcontroversy”. We recommend blacklisting this tag. If that is still not enough, then we recommend unfollowing/blocking us. These are topics just as relevant in the roleplaying community as anything else.

“Could you promote me?”

Certainly! But only if you are another community-involved blog (a blog that provides a ‘service’ to the community, such as advice, roleplay help, a place for confessions, etc.), and it must be relevant to the roleplaying community to some degree! If you want to promote a roleplay blog, then we suggest sending in a shoutout submission!

“I sent a confession in weeks ago. Where is it? How long will it take for it to get posted?”

It’s either sitting in the queue or sitting in our drafts, waiting to be queued. We have 1,200+ followers so far, and on average we’re sent 15+ submissions a night. We only post between 5 to 8 submissions at night. Your submission is on a wait list. That’s all we can tell you.

“Why don’t you just close your submission box until all the current confessions are posted?”

Because we’re a vent blog first and foremost. If we close our ask/submission boxes, then we’re no longer an option for people who might desperately need to vent or talk about something that could have happened to them that day but have no other options. We want to be a healthy alternative to just bottling it up or possibly lashing out at the wrong people.

“I don’t believe you! I think you deleted my submission because one of you didn’t like it! You’re not unbiased at all!”

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“[insert OP/commenter] is obviously a rapist/pedophilie!”

If we find that you have accused someone of being a rapist, pedophile, or apologist of either because of their defensive views on noncon/pedophilic ships or roleplay, your comment will be removed and you will be blocked. These are serious accusations that you shouldn’t be throwing at people over fictional content and we refuse to to let you use this blog as a platform to spew such slanderous accusations.

[illustration-ammuntion]

Cursed Inc.

I enjoy writing comic book scripts, but found that I don’t have the patience to illustrate them.  So I’ve decided to upload my latest one here.  You are free to do what you want with it.  Draw it, critique it, sketch characters from it, whatever.  Just tag me.  If you do critique it, it sucks isn’t a critique.  Reasons it sucks and how I can improve is a critique.   

Cursed Inc.

 Page 1

 Panel 1.

We are looking through binoculars at 4 individuals coming out of a door at the end of a dead-end neon-soaked alley, there are air conditioners, pipes, and wires everywhere.  Anything happening in the alley should be lit by the harsh neon lighting until otherwise noted.  The one in front, (looking like the security he is) is a large green orc covered in runic tattoos and wearing lots of bone jewelry with symbols and runes carved into them.  On his lower half he’s wearing fatigue’s and boots, on his upper half he just wears a plate carrier.  He carries a military looking rifle thar can be based on a real rifle or something made up.  Behind him is a being in a trench coated. His head is a flaming skull stuffed in a fishbowl helmet.  There are tubes and wires coming out of the back of the helmet running down to boxy satchel slung over his shoulder like an oversized purse.  You can’t see his hands in this shot, but when you do se them they are robotic.  Behind him are two individuals.  A chubby man (Dwane) with long hair that’s been dyed blond, the dark roots are starting to show.  He carries a very basic rifle with a wood stock and scope.  There are runes carved in the stock.  Next to him is a dumpy looking female (Halley).  She also has died blond hair.  We can see that they have elfin ears, but if they are ever shown close up, you should be able to see that the ears are bad plastic surgery that are pretty scarred. They are both wearing what looks like Adidas track suits, but instead of the three stripes running down the sides it’s one solid white with intermittent arcane symbols.

Andi (OP):  There here.  Looks like 4 of them.

 Panel 2.

We are up on a rooftop looking down at a sniper who’s looking down through her scope.  She has blond hair, a nice red jacket with tight black pants.  If we can see her ears, she’s an elf with delicate but aloof features.  

Joni:  I see them.  The heavy looks like he’s wearing some serious runic protection.

 Panel 3.

We are inside a dingy hotel room.  There is a girl, Andi, looking through the monocular holding a walkie-talkie.  She has a short pixie cut and is wear jeans, a hoody (hood up), and a black pair of Chucks.  We may or may not be able to see it, but she has a 1911 strapped to her right hip.  She is facing left looking out the window in front of her. Off to her right sits a large shadowy figure we only see in silhouette.  This is Ed.  He has a massive shaggy head.  He’s definitely not human.  

Ed:    I can take him!

 Page 2

 Panel 1.

Andi looking over at us with a serious look on her face.

Andi:  Not yet.  I need you to concentrate Ed.  Do you remember the plan?

Ed (OP):  I remember.

Andi:  Good.

 Panel 2.

Andi talking into the walkie-talkie again.

Andi:  You think you can take him out?

Joni (OP):  Possibly.

Andi:  …sigh…  You ready Matthew?

 Panel 3.

On a back-alley balcony. We see what looks like the moth man with a mohawk dressed like an 80’s punker.  His wings stick out of the back of a jean battle vest covered with patches and pins.  He wear’s no pants or shoes.  Definitely a guy who’s down to talk about how The Man is keeping him down.  He’s holding a mechanical device about the size of a bowling ball that has a satchel sling that he wears over his shoulder while he talks into his walkie-talkie.

Matthew:  You take out the heavy and I am.

 Panel 4.

Close up of Andi talking into her walkie-talkie.

Andi:  10-4.  Joni, take the shot.  Ed, get ready just in case.

 Page 3

 Panel 1.

Side shot of Joni looking through her rifle. She is very put together.  Flashy earrings and her nails are manicured.

 Panel 2

We are looking at the orc through Joni’s scope.  The cross hairs are on the orc’s forehead.

Joni:  Damn…

 Panel 3.

Glory shot of the orc.

Joni (OP):  …you are a big boy.

 Page 4

 Panel 1.

Close up on Joni’s finger pulling the trigger.  

Sfx:  tkk

 Panel 2.

SFX:  BOOM  

The sound effect is attached to the previous panels tkk sound effect to show they are happening almost simultaneously.  

 Panel 3.

The orcs head being slammed back from the impact of the bullet.   Mouth open spittle flying.  No blood.

 Panel 4.

Close on Joni squinting through her scope.

Joni:  He’s down.

 Page 5

 Panel 1.

Close up on Andi looking through her binoculars out the window.

Andi:  But is he out?

 Panel 2.

The orc angrily siting up.

Andi (OP):  Nope!  Not out.

 Panel 3.

The orc is getting up pointing back at the skull guy.

Orc:  Get him out of here!

 Panel 4.

Andi yelling at the dark shape that is Ed while she gestures at the window.

Andi:  You got you’re wish.  Go!

 Page 6

 Panel 1.

We finally see Ed.  He is leaping through the window to attack the orc below.  He is surrounded by shards of glass that glitter and reflect the surrounding neon.  He has a large muscular man body with head of a maned lion. He is wearing jeans and boots.  Around his neck is a large green crystal on a heavy gold chain.  

 Page 7

 Panel 1.

The blonds are grabbing skull head escorting/dragging him back towards the door.

Guy 1:  Come on boss, let’s go!

Skull:  I am not running from his goons!  Dwane, take care that sniper! Halley, give Orson some focus!

 Panel 2

Ed landing in front of the orc

 Panel 3

Skull head has his robotic hand on the female (Halley) blond in the track suit’s shoulder as she shoots blue bolts of energy at Orson the orc.  The Dwane is aiming up and off panel firing his AR looking rifle.

Panel 4

Joni is taking fire from street level.  She is grabbing her rifle backing away from the bullets pinging around her.  

 Page 8

 Panel 1

Ed flying towards the Orson the orc who looks like he’s more muscular than before as he’s being energized in blue lighting from off panel.

 Page 9

 Panel 1.

Caption:  The day before.

We see Andi sitting in a very nice office.  Behind the desk in front of her is a goblin (Heezer) in a suit.

Andi:  Absolutely not. The job is worth twice that if not more.

 Panel 2.

Close up on a smug mockingly apologetic Heezer:

Heezer:  I’m sorry Andi.  Maybe last year when you had a reputation.  Now… well, you’re welcome to go find employment somewhere else.  Maybe someone else is willing to take a risk on you without Ed.

Panel 3.

Close up on an angry looking Andi.

Andi:  Damn you Heezer!  Ed is still part of the crew.  

Panel 4.

Smug looking Heezer.

Heezer:  Tell you what, bring Edward in here and I’ll double the price.

Panel 5.

Close up on a furious Andi.

Andi:  Damn you Heezer!

Panel 6.

Close up on a sneering Heezer.

Heezer:  Rebuild your reputation.  Bring me the artifact.  

 Page 10  

 Panel 1.

We see Andi running down some stairs.  The walls are covered in graffiti.  She is screaming into her walkie-talkie.  

Andi:  Matthew, get down there and shut the artifact down!

Panel 2.

Matthew fiddling with his doohickey as he talks on the walkie-talkie.  

Matthew:  I’m not going down there you have Ed clear the way.

Panel 3.

We se the Orc who is in full on hulk mode giving Ed an uppercut that is knocking him straight up into the air.

Panel 4.

Andi bursting through a graffiti covered door into the alley.  

Andi:  Damn it Matthew, we need that him down now!

Panel 5.

Andi running towards the battle between Ed and Orson.  

Andi:  Nobody get’s paid unless we turn in the artifact!  Do your damn jobs!

 Page 11

 Panel 1.

We see Matthew talking into his walkie-talkie looking off panel.

Matthew:  It’s way to hairy down there for me.  At least have Joni take out the sniper.

Panel 2.

Joni crouching behind a larger roof mounted air conditioner that is taking in coming fire.

Joni: Incoming fire always has the right of way!

Panel 3.

Orson is on top of Ed just beating the hell out of him.

Panel 4.

Full body shot of Andy pulling off her hood. She looks pissed.  We see tentacles starting to manifest through her clothing.

Andi:  Do I have to do everything myself?

 Page 12

 Panel 1.

Close up on Andi’s hands she is flexing it into a claw as a tentacle starts to appear from her wrist.  This can be one or two panels showing each hand and tentacle set. Depends how artists feel the overall page should flow

Panel 2.

Andi now has tentacles coming out from each wrist one from each thigh lifting her off the ground. The tentacles ignore clothes and where the state from the body they are semi-transparent.  She is reaching out with her tentacles grabbing at Orson. Pulling him off of Ed by the throat.

 Page 13

 Panel 1.

The flaming skull points off panel ordering Halley to attack Andi.

Skull:  Stop her!

Panel 2.

Halley is firing Red bolts of lightning from her hands now. Skully still has his hands on her shoulder.

Panel 3.

Andi who is holding Orson in the air is being engulfed in red lightning from off panel. It doesn’t feel good to either her or Orson.

 Page 14

 Panel 1.

Close up on Andi’s face as she wears a grimace of pain from electrocution.

Andi:  Damn it Matthew!

Panel 2.

A bloody looking Ed looking of panel with furry in his eyes.

Ed:  Grrr!

Panel 3.  

Ed rushing towards Skully and Halley.

Skully:  Dwane!

Panel 4.

Dwane now firing at Ed.

Ed getting hit by rifle fire.  The bullets ripping into Ed aren’t going to kill him, but they aren’t making him happy.

 Page 15

 Panel 1.

Joni popping up from behind the shredded air conditioner starting to aim off panel.

Joni:  Finally!

Panel 2.

Andi has released Orson and has brought all four tentacles in front of her to use as a shield to block the red electricity from Dwane.  

Panel 3.

Orson who no longer looks like he’s in Hulk mode without the blue electricity, has recovered from being strangled by Joni is rushing back to grabbing a shot up and bleeding Ed.

 Page 16

 Panel 1.

Close up on Joni looking at us through her rifle scope.

Joni:  Se ya poser.  

Panel 2.

Dwane getting blasted back by a shot to the chest.  It’s lifting him off his feet a bit.

Joni (OP): Gotcha!  You’re up Matthew!

Panel 3.

Matthew finally getting up off his railing, palming the doohickey like a basketball.

Matthew:  Fine.

Panel 4.

Matthew flying down towards Skully.

 Page 17

 Panel 1.

We see Orson and Ed locked in battle. Orson is definitely on the losing end of things.  In the background is Skully and Halley throwing electricity.

 Page 18

Panel 1

Matthew landing at Skully’s feet who still has his hand on Halley who is firing electricity of panel. She doesn’t notice Matthew, but Skully is looking down at Matthew.  

Panel 2.

Matthew looking up at us pressing a button on the doohickey.

SFX:  click

Matthew:  Hi.

Panel 3

Mathew leaping off panel leaving the doohickey at Skully’s feet. Skully is watching him leave.

Panel 4.

Skully looking down at the doohickey.

Skully:  What the-

Panel 5.

SFX (big

bold lettering): CLICK!

 Page 19

 Panel 1.

All neon light is out in the alley.  It’s not completely dark, but there isn’t much light anymore.  Skully is collapsing next to a surprised looking Halley.

Skully:  Damn it!

Panel 2.

Andi is pulling out her .45 as she runs past Ed who is literally tearing out Orson’s throat with his teeth.

Andi: Damn it Edward! You don’t eat people!  We’ve talked about this!

Panel 3.

We are looking up at a blood-soaked Ed who looks sorry.  

Ed:  Sorry Andi...

Panel 4.

Andi standing in front of Haley aiming her gun at her. Halley stands there her hands out like she might shoot more electricity of them, but she looks very unsure.  Skully lays in a crumpled heap at her feet.  

Andi: Stand down.  If you get your boyfriend to a hospital now, they might be able to save him.

 Page 20

 Panel 1.

We are behind Halley looking down at Dwane who is clutching his chest laying in a pool of his own blood.

Halley:  He’s… my husband.

Andi (OP):  Well you’re gonna’ be his widow if you don’t get a move on.

Panel 2.

Andi looking down at Skully talking on her walkie-talkie.  Behind her is Halley who is trying to deal with her husband.

Andi:  Everyone, re-group on me.

Panel 3.

Andi is reaching down on us as if we were Skully.

Andi:  For what it ‘s worth, you were worth a lot more than 500 credits.

Panel 4.

Andi is now holding the fishbowl helmet that holds the helmet.  Ed is approaching off panel.

Skully:  500 credits!?  Heezer is a cheap bastard, but that’s ridiculous!

Panel 5.

Andi handing Skully and the satchel he’s connected to, to Ed.

Andi:  Take him to the truck, I’ll be there in a second.

 Page 21.

 Panel 1.

Joni and Matthew walking up to Andi.  In the background we see Halley trying to drag her husband off by the armpits.  

Andi:  Ed and are taking the artifact in for payment.  Meet us back at the shop for payment.  I want an itemized list of expenses from both of you.

Panel 2.

Andi pointing at Joni.

Andi:  I heard two shots, don’t bill me for anything more.

Joni: Whatever Andi. I’ll bill you for the shots I took. Just like always.

Andi: Yeah.

Panel 3.

No Andi is pointing at Matthew.

Andi: We are a team.  I expect a little quicker response time out of you.

Panel 4.

Close up on Matthew.

Matthew:  Pay me what I’m worth and maybe you’ll get a team player.

Andi: I pay you according to what I get payed.  Step it up, and maybe we’ll get payed more.

Panel 5.

Both Matthew and Joni walking away in separate directions leaving Joni to stand there.

Matthew: Whatever.  Don’t blame us for your problems. I’m not taking a bullet for this outfit.  

 Page 22

 Panel 1

Ed is carrying Skully as he approaches a very banged up A-Haul moving truck.

Skully:  Huh, haven’t seen that in a long time.

Panel 2.

Ed lifting the door to the back of the truck. Skully is looking at the crystal that hangs from his neck.

Skully:  The amulet of Oondar.

Panel 3.

Ed sitting down sulking in the back of the truck.

Ed:  It’s the Crystal of Skoor.

Skully: Skoor must have stolen it from Oondar.  I should know, I made it for Oondar.

Panel 4.

Close up on a sulky looking Ed.

Ed:  Shut up.  You don’t know jack.

Panel 5.

Close up on the grinning skull.

Skully:  If you say so my good Guardian.

 Page 23

 Panel 1.

A confused looking Ed.

Ed:  What did you call me?

Panel 2.

Andi his getting into the drivers set of the truck now.

Andi:  Edward!  Quit chatting with the artifact.  Are we good to go to Heezer straight away, or do I need to stop off at the infirmary first?

Ed:  What?

Panel 3.

Close up on an annoyed looking Andi.

Andi:  Payment or infirmary Edward!  Which is it?

Ed:  Oh… Uh payment is fine.  I’m healing ok, I guess.

Panel 4.

We are looking through the windshield of the truck.  Andi looks like she is in a really bad mood.

Andi:  Well that’s something at least.  

Panel 5.

The truck driving off.

Andi (OP):  Maybe we’ll even break even on this one.  

[yuthoe]

PENTAGON Yanan x Ballroom Dancing

Welcome to the second installment of PTG BALLROOM DANCERS AU! I figured Yanan deserved the second one, since I haven’t really written anything for him. (also because i miss him, but that is neither here nor there.) I didn’t really have a hard time placing Yanan into the latin/standard/10-dances category, unlike Wooseok and Hui (and Kino a little bit).

Also, quick disclaimer: I’m a strictly Latin dancer, and although i can kinda dance standard, i don’t have the proper enough technique to say i’m good at it. (i once had a breakdown after my ballroom class because i couldn’t get the tango right AT ALL lmao.)

---

Strictly a Standard dancer, although he can be taught Latin. His heart is really set in Standard. He’s tall and slim, but he’s got a good, strong body that lends well to leading his partner.

Has changed partners well over ten times in his whole career; he had self-confidence issues that often lead to not participating in a number of seasons. The cycle goes like this: he has a partner --> midway through training/off-season he hits a wall --> confesses he can’t compete for the season because he doesn’t think he’s good enough and it’ll only bring his partner down --> partner leaves to find another lead.

He’s kind of infamous for that, and it takes more of a toll on his mental health everytime a news article about it pops up. Yanan doesn’t want to get remembered for that, and he struggles with it a lot.

Until he met you. The first time he confesses that he can’t compete this season because of his mental health, you just said, “Sure. Tell me when you want to train next, I’ll be here.” And from then you, you became permanent partners. He likes the feeling of having someone sticking by him through what’s going on.

Really good lead. He may not look it because of his wiry frame and long limbs, but he’s really sturdy--you think he could literally whip you around and manhandle you if the need arises.

That being said, he never complains during conditioning days. He accepts them, because he knows the need for it, but will crack jokes to make the whole thing easier for both of you.

Never wears just shorts or goes shirtless (*coughHongseokcough*) while training, no matter how unbearably hot it gets, especially during the summer. There was one time where he wore a sleeveless shirt, but the collar was something like a turtleneck and you were just like, “Can’t you unzip that just a little bit? Your sweat’s gonna start pooling there.” And he just said, “No, I’m actually very comfortable.”

Yanan has various SNS accounts, but he’s most active on his Instagram. He loves posting selfies, songs that you two are practicing to, scenery, and movie recommendations. The occasional promo poster pops up, as well as pictures of his dancer friends competing and captioning them, “Let’s cheer my friend Changgu on at Blackpool!” or something.

He has a significant following (1) because he posts a lot and (2) because he’s really handsome. His notifications blow up with likes whenever he posts after-training selfies. The fans are particularly fond of that one time he just wore a dry-fit sleeveless shirt and he was all sweaty and his hair was sticking all over his face.

He sometimes posts snippets of him playing the piano, and everyone is instantly lovestruck. 

Yanan interacts with his fans a lot, liking each and every comment, and responding to some of them. He always thanks them for their continued support, even if he’s not competing during that season.

Posts a few couple photos with you, and everyone thinks you’re adorable.

Absolutely loves dancing the waltzes. He likes the flow of the music and how easy it is to move to the rhythm. During competitions, you two often get photographed while dancing the waltz, and he looks absolutely angelic. You two always wear white, blue, or any other light colors while performing, so looking at you two is like watching fairies dance.

Is also in love with the tango. People think of him as quiet and shy, but really only you and other close friends know he’s actually sassy, and all that attitude comes out in the tango. His tangos with you are always strong, like a pair of snow leopards ready to attack #PowerCouple.

The problem you two had in the beginning was keeping the frame. He’s 70% leg and the height difference makes it tricky to keep proper framing. It’s either you had to wear higher heels or Yanan ends up hunching his back or going super low at the knees. Eventually, as you two got used to each other, you solved that problem. Ballroom enthusiasts always point out how good your frame is, despite the difference.

Has been asked to be a pro dancer/choreographers on some programs, but he always turns them down. He feels the stress is too much for him, so he sticks to competitions and occasionally doing collaborations with his friends.

“Perfect” by Ed Sheeran is a song he’s obsessed with, and when he saw this video he was immediately like, “Y/N!!! Y/N, LET’S DO THIS!!!” So you guys set aside a day to practice it, tweaking the choreography a bit at the places you thought didn’t feel right. It was cool, since you have a costume like Witney’s, but Yanan didn’t want to raid his closet for a black suit, so he just wore one of his numerous white ones.

You filmed the whole of the next day, getting shots during the day, the afternoon, during sunset. You guys made it really romantic, and once it got posted on YouTube and Facebook, everyone was crying at how beautiful the production was.

I mentioned he’s sassy, but Yanan also has a habit of critiquing dances. Despite the questionable credibility of some DWTS dances, you two love watching it--because Yanan can have something to gripe about, and you’re really amused whenever he goes off.

an awkward foot placement during a quickstep performance: “Wh-What is THAT???!!? It’s week 5 of the competition!! And he’s done standard since week 1!! Why is he getting that wrong??!!”

a weird lift, even if you two don’t personally do lifts: “Ooohh, that looks weird, are they okay??? Please don’t drop her, please don’t drop her, oh god--,”

the pro does some questionable choreography or something “experimental”: “Oh, they’re reaching, oh this is gonna be bad, what are they talking about??? I hope his partner doesn’t have high hopes because that was A Choice™.”

an unfair jugding: “WHAT?! SHE GETS A PERFECT SCORE FOR THAT??? ARE THEY BLIND--THEY WEREN’T IN SYNC, SHE WAS TOO FAST FOR THE DANCE, AND HER FRAME WAS TOTALLY OFF!!!!”

You record his outbursts and send it to your dancers group chat; everyone loves seeing Yanan so passionate about something, even if it is about the atrocities of DWTS. 

[pocketthealer]

Love Notes

By Celeste

Pairing: Stucky x Reader

Word Count: 1,370

Warnings: Implied smut. Death by Fluff. PG18

Summary: Steve goes on a mission; sap ensues.

For: barnesrogersvstheworld’s 1k Writing Challenge

A/N: I admit that I have never written a polyamorous relationship before and had a bit of trouble getting started on this one, including two rewrites. I am quite new to the writing community (and even newer to the Stucky one), so comments, tips, critiques are all welcome! I hope I have done some justice to the pairing. I hope I did ok with Bucky, he is an odd flower to write. Long live Stucky! Happy 1k @barnesrogersvstheworld!!! #barnesrogers1k

 Steve, come home.

You deleted the message and put your phone down. While it’s what you wanted to send, it was selfish and wouldn’t really accomplish anything. Or worse, Steve would drop everything and go through with it. And the world needed Captain America, while only two of you needed Steve Rogers. Cool metal fingers dragged themselves lazily through your hair, massaging your scalp as they went. “What’s wrong, doll?” Bucky asked, voice sluggish. You smiled down at him. His head was pillowed in your lap, exhaustion warring on his face. Bucky had improved tremendously under Shuri’s care and was given the green light to come home after the Accords fiasco was handled. While Steve completely trusted Shuri and T-Challa’s word (and Bucky’s own) on the mental health of his friend, the rest of the newly united team wasn’t completely convinced. And so it happened that Bucky was voluntold to hold down the fort while the others did the heavy lifting. The three of you really weren’t complaining; you liked the company, Steve worried less while you had Bucky for protection (because in Steve’s mind, everyone was after you and that was completely ridiculous), and Bucky was still acclimating to the “don’t shoot to kill” rule. You made a “just set your phaser to stun” joke that went over both of their heads (and honestly most of the other’s as well), but Clint totally got it. “I miss Steve,” you said honestly. “Hmmm.” Bucky hummed, sitting up. “Then I’d better provide you with a proper distraction.” He said, pulling you into his lap. You smiled against his lips. “You’d better.”

You awoke in the middle of the night trapped in a metal embrace, and experience taught you that there was no escape. You smiled to yourself as you listened to his steady breathing in your ear. Peaceful sleep was still something that both men had trouble finding, so when either of them found it you had made it a rule to let them sleep for as long as possible. Hence, the journal perched on the bedside table. You had stopped putting it in the drawer as the movement combined with the sound woke them both up. Instead, there was a pen clipped to the cover and a spiral binding just perfect for grabbing and folding over. You reached for it, needing to get your day on paper. You had kept a written journal since you were little and carried the ritual with you into your adult life. Just like the strawberry pop tarts and that ‘I <3 NY’ t-shirt, the journal was communal. You were a little surprised to see an entry from Steve. Well, less surprised that Steve had written and more surprised that it’d been so long since you had. Bucky wasn’t too keen on sharing his thoughts, preferring his own journal; but you caught him reading it sometimes. The journal was something you and Steve had begun before Bucky joined your relationship and it was something you knew Steve looked forward to. He swore he could see emotion in your handwriting and hated how impersonal text messages felt because of it.

Doll,

I’ll be leaving for a mission shortly, so I don’t have much time. It’s getting harder and harder to leave the two of you behind. But it’s nice, finally having something to come home to; someone waiting for me at the end of the mission. Thanks for taking care of me and Buck. We’re counting on you.

Love always,

Steve

You smiled to yourself. Leave it to Steve to know exactly what you needed to hear.

Steve,

I miss you. You’ll be happy to hear that Bucky has been providing me with plenty of distractions: sleeping in, forgetting a protein shake in the blender and the ensuing explosion covering the kitchen in a fun light green color, and target practice since he insists I learn how to shoot a gun. I think teaching me how to shoot is helping him too, since he’s teaching me how to stop an attacker, not kill them. Oh, and the love making. He’s getting so much better at not bruising me with his metal arm. Anyway, you’d better come home soon. Love you.

Yours always.

It didn’t feel like enough. Sure, you conveyed how you felt, but he wouldn’t see it until he was home. And who knew when that would be. You flipped backwards, rereading all the brightly colored sticky notes you’d saved from previous days:

‘The best thing that’s ever happened to me is you.’ - Steve

‘I love you a latte.’ - Bucky

‘Most of smiles begin with you.’ - Steve

‘You stole a pizza my heart.’ - Bucky

‘I still fall for you every day.’ - Steve

‘I love you from my head tomatoes.’ - Bucky

You grabbed your phone and switched it to silent, so the noise wouldn’t wake Bucky up. You snapped a selfie: half of your face, messy hair, one bare shoulder with Bucky’s nose pressed against it, Bucky’s eye closed in sleep, and more messy hair. You captioned the pic ‘all that’s missing is you’ and sent it to Steve. He responded almost immediately, ‘Can’t wait to share a bed with you and not Sam.’ ‘Yea? Sam not a cuddler?’ you ask, smiling at the ridiculous mental image that comes to mind. ‘He’s a bed hog,’ he replies a few minutes later, ‘and he doesn’t look nearly as cute or comfortable as the two of you. I bet there’s room for me on that bed.’ You snap a second shot of half your bare chest, one metal arm curled around your waist while the other reaches out as if it knows where Steve’s waist is supposed to be but isn’t, and Steve’s pillow doing a terrible impersonation of Steve. It takes him a long time to reply, and when he does it’s just ‘I love you. I swear I’ll be home soon.’ Home. Bucky and I are Steve’s home now. It makes all the time apart worth every second together. Bucky groans, pulling you closer; an indication that he’s waking up. “Com’ere,” he says, voice laced with sleep. You giggle was he pulls you to him and you share a kiss. “…Is that Steve?” he asks, gesturing to my phone. “It is,” you say. He looks at the phone before saying, “You two are adorable. You know the mission should be finished tomorrow right? Two more days, you can make it. Go back to sleep.”

The bed is so warm the next morning. You smile and snuggle further into the chest underneath your face. Featherlight kisses trail down your exposed neck and shoulder. “Morning sunshine,” Bucky says behind you, but when he leans over for a kiss, his kiss never comes despite the distinct sound of smacking lips that follows the motion. “Couldn’t stay away huh?” he says and Steve chuckles in response. “Not with pictures like those,” he says. Your eyes pop open. “Steve!” you cry, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him towards you for a kiss. He laughs into your mouth, kissing you soft and slow before it builds. “You’re a dangerous woman,” he says as you start to pull at his clothes. “Ain’t she though?” Bucky says, but he’s the one that rips all the buttons with one good tug of his arms. “Is that one of mine?” Steve asks, voice a bit low as he pulls at the shirt you slept in. “It might be. Welcome home,” you say a little breathless. “I like the welcoming party,” he says, “and I can’t wait to sleep in my own bed again.” Bucky chuckles, but you reach for the button on Steve’s pants and undo it. “I can’t guarantee that you’ll be getting much sleep today,” you say, “but tonight when we’re finished with you maybe you will.” Steve’s answering smile is wicked. “Is that a promise, Doll?” You kiss him in response, open-mouthed. He groans, and Bucky’s hands slide around your waist from behind you. When you pull back, Bucky pushes forward and kisses Steve hard and fast, with you crushed between them. Your favorite place, you think. There’s no where else you’d rather be.

[ikesenhell]

Make Me Wrong

This is the Hostile Takeover series: Part Seven. For all other parts and additional IkeSen works by me, see here.

Their stocks stabilized and Nobunaga questioned himself more every day. 

There was a part of him that knew--if only a little bit, only as much as he was willing to allow himself to ponder--that he was getting in over his head somewhere. Texting escalated. Soon they were sending each other wine suggestions, recommendations for music, grousing about unreasonable stockholders. She had a truly delightful assortment of reaction images that she would caption with: Me, when I see Shingen’s titty window. His favorite was a gif of Rihanna rolling up her car window. 

He enjoyed those texts more than he cared to say. 

He’d grown used to fantasizing about her during the Innovator’s Conference. That--that was a thing he’d adjusted to, allowed carefully into the well-planned fabric of his life. He hadn’t budgeted just thinking of her into that. She crept like a song into his mind, unnoticed until he adjusted and realized just what tune his brain hummed. She hovered on the edge of everything he did. 

Where did that leave him? Nobunaga wasn’t sure. On the one hand, it was a pretty clear conflict of interest at this point. He wasn’t sure what, exactly, had caught him sideways around the neck and dragged him into her. It wasn’t just lust anymore. No, not with the way he was thinking. 

On the other--well, for one, he’d already locked into the long con. For the second, he wasn’t so sure he wanted it to stop. 

“You’re distracted lately,” Hideyoshi commented, frowning at Nobunaga.

“Am I? I feel that I’m getting through my workload just as quickly as before.” He replied brusquely. 

“Yes, you are. I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant that we keep having to repeat things.”

“Mmm.” Nobunaga exercised his long-practiced skill of pretending to absorb the critique, busying himself instead with studying the papers Hideyoshi had brought. “I see we’re doing very well in the data advancement sector. Maybe we should be investing more into that side of the business.”

“Really?” Hideyoshi paused, considering that. “I mean, it’s not an avenue a lot of banks get into.”

“We’re not just any bank. I think it’s a fair thing to invest more of our time in.”

Some nights, he dreamed about that dark mark he’d left on her thigh, and he woke cursing his treasonous brain. It was downright chaste, considering the things they’d gotten up to. But--but--

Why couldn’t he shake her? 

He was up late one night trying to bury his thoughts deep, deep into a show about flipping houses--and he didn’t even like TLC, but he could get into the spirit of yelling at renovators--when she texted him.

You up?

This felt like a trap. He hovered his finger over the keypad before taking the dive. 

I could be.

That’s not much of an answer, now, is it? But I take it that’s a yes? What are you doing?

Nobunaga’s pants tightened on reflex. How did she have this much power over him? 

Watching goddamn Love It or List It and critiquing the filming choices and poor scripting. Why are you asking, fiance dearest?

Oh my jesus god, Nobu. Lmao. Feel like cutting into a bottle of wine?

Now, this definitely felt like a trap. He could almost feel his shoulder angel and devil wrestling with each other (and weirdly enough, they took the shape of Hideyoshi and Mitsuhide). If he stayed--if he stayed, he kept that safe, secure distance between the two of them, that thin barrier between their ruse. And if he didn’t...

Well, Mitsuhide had always been the more eloquent of his partners. 

Give me the address. 

She had a small, cozy apartment in a more urban part of town, settled nicely on the top floor in a corner section. It hardly compared to his sprawling view of the city, but he figured that was in keeping with the rest of her. Soft couches settled squat around colorful rugs, throw pillows that actually cradled your back instead of biting into it tossed haphazardly into chairs. It looked like a scene from Arabian Nights. And she--she herself was quite a sight, stripped bare of her usual work clothing and clad in a sweet, flowing dress with a kimono style jacket tossed over it. She opened the door and he suddenly felt very weak in the knees. 

“Hey.” She smiled at him, and he recognized the nerves bare in her, too. Well. That made him feel better. 

“Hey.” He lifted a bottle of wine and realized all at once that she was going to tease him for it. “It’s, uh, riesling. I remember you liked it. Schloss Reinhartshausen. Good stuff.”

“Sounds fancy.” She eyed him under her brows, amused.

“Look, I’m not going to put a price tag on it for you. You’ll laugh.”

“So it is fancy.” But she parted and allowed him in nonetheless. Wind rustled in the long, filmy curtains around her balcony, sweeping through the kitchen. “Welcome in.”

“Your place is very nice.” And he meant it, though he’d never have thought to decorate his own home that way. 

“Thanks.”

Silence fell between them, so he busied himself uncorking the riesling. She set two glasses before him. 

“You know, those are the wrong shape for a riesling.”

The Princess laughed, bright and musical. “Do tell.”

“They’re supposed to be broader at the bottom than this.” He tapped them. “With a slightly closed top. Not too broad, though; that’s for chardonnay. These are more suited to champagne.”

“Are they?” She was humoring him, and he knew it, but she leaned against the counter close to his arm and he decided to keep going, despite the risk of being mocked. 

“Otherwise you’re just not enjoying the fragrance the way it’s intended. You know that, right?”

“Please,” she chuckled. “Educate me more on glasses.”

“I might have to.” He set his other hand around her on the counter, trapping her there. “Clearly you haven’t the faintest idea what you’re doing with yours.”

“You’re just trying to get me back for calling you bougie. This isn’t helping your case.”

Nobunaga considered this. Or, rather, he tried to. But the bow of her lips curved in that smirk was so distracting. Paired with the light of her eyes and the swish of her hair, he could hardly muster up his wine knowledge, and at last, he fell quiet, just putting the pad of his calloused thumb on her lip. 

“How do you do this?” He asked, soft as a petal. 

“Do what?” She murmured back, just as sweet and dreamy. And he’d never heard her talk like that to him, never once, and it was almost more than he could take. For the first time in his life, he wanted to kneel before her and put his forehead to her lap in submission. She had him. She had him so good, and so much, and so thoroughly in her hand, and he didn’t know what to do with that--and he hadn’t even realized that until he was standing in her kitchen.

“Everything,” he murmured. “Wrap me around your finger. Capture my thoughts. Make me apologize. Make me wrong. You’ve made me wrong more in a month than I’ve been in my whole life.”

Her smile was grace itself. “Someone had to.”

“You could just take the compliment, Princess.”

She eased her hand up along his shirt and guided him in toward her, and their lips collided like stars and galaxies, and--hell below and heaven above be damned, there was no fate that awaited him after death that could compare to where she held him now. As gentle as he could (and he was not a gentle man, he’d grown to understand that about himself of late), he cradled the back of her head in his hand and returned it, lavishing his affections on her, against her, through her. She gasped for air and he granted her only a moment’s reprieve before slipping his tongue between her lips and tasting her.

“Nobunaga,” she whispered. “You don’t--you don’t have to go home tonight. Not if you don’t want to.”

“Is that an invitation?” He breathed back. 

“Yeah.”

He slipped one finger around her ear, trailing her hair behind it, and contemplated the edge of the abyss he stood on. If he fell--if he jumped, rather--there was no coming back. 

“I just might,” he answered her, and took her by the waist for another kiss. 

[talkativelock]

Hi! I really don't want to get you involve in this but can u help send some positivity to Horikoshi-sensei over on Twitter? We're all trying to spread the #PLUSULTRAforHorikoshi to show that we all love & support his works since there are some ppl on tumblr saying they want him to die cause of the latest arc & some ppl on Twitter are @-ing him sending him death threats. He's such an amazing person & he definitely doesn't deserve all this hate and I def dont want him to fall back into depression.

You know, Back In The Day, before the popularization of things like twitter which made authors more accessible, you all (by this I mean idiots sending death threats, not you anon) had to actually critique things, or at the very least keep your shitty behavior to yourselves. After all, it was a bit harder to contact the author than just pulling out your phone. Now we have Twitter, where every author is right at your fingertips and Certified to be real. For the most part, I Hate Twitter.

As an author, someone who writes original content (though this applies to my fanfic too), I just want to say to everyone who sends death threats from the bottom of my heart; fuck your entitled bullshit. 

As a reader you are always welcome, and even encouraged, to discuss and debate and stop purchasing if you so choose. I won’t ever demand that you enjoy every aspect of everything that you read or just follow along with whatever the author says without thinking. That would be dumb. What I will demand is that you remember that the actual text does not belong to you.

Every person who makes a demand on a story that I have written with the classic accompanying suicide bait does the opposite of convince me to change my story. All that tells me is that instead of being a reader who I am telling a story to they somehow think that they are now my producer and that they own the story in some way and get to dictate its direction and I don’t take very kindly to being told what to do.

Upset with the direction of a story? Share your opinion about why with the rest of fandom/in a real review, talk about the things that upset you, discuss the ways it could recover your good favor, drop the story if it’s offended you enough, but don’t you dare ever try to take ownership of a story, no matter its quality, from the author that made it with their imagination and own two hands.

Fuck, maybe we all need to go back to putting “I don’t own this story I’m just playing with it” at the beginning of every fanfic and in the caption of every fanart if only just for the reminder.

Also, if you ever send suicide bait to anyone for any reason I will come into your dreams and dislocate every one of your finger joints and make you type “telling someone to kill themselves makes me a shitty person” over and over again on dislocated fingers. 

*takes a deep breath* Okay, rant over. Sorry, anon, none of that was directed at you. You obviously have your head on straight since you don’t seem to think that the appropriate answer to disliking a story someone is telling you is to try to murder them from afar. Good on you, my friend~

Hey guys, if you’re on twitter and you know someone who has sent death threats to Horikoshi over this and you haven’t said anything to them about how that is not okay then go do that right now. And if you’re comfortable sending Horikoshi some positivity to combat the negativity please follow the anon’s directions for how to do that.

[richierichandthelosers]

Celebrations Richie x Reader

Author’s note: (Just ignore the caption for the gif) But this got me really excited to write and I’m pretty happy with it. Its the longest I’ve written in a while and I hope you enjoy it! Feedback/critique is always welcome!

Richie’s pov:

“Y/N are you okay?” I asked.

“No Eds I-I-I think I'm gunna be sick.” Her words slurred as she vomited in the street.

“I’m not Eddie. It’s Richie.” her confusion worried me.

Y/N shivered but it was almost 85 degrees out, her breathing was irregular and all the color in her face was gone.

“We have to take her to the hospital.” Eddie said.

Luckily Eds was our designated driver and I didn’t have to run to find him.

Scooping her up, I carried her to the car while Eddie hopped in the driver's seat. The closest hospital was about 10 minutes away. We were more than halfway there when she loses consciousness.

I tried to shake her awake, calling her name, doing anything I could.

“Eddie what do I do?” I panicked. “She’s not waking up.”

For the first time since childhood, here I was, holding Y/N’s unconscious body worried she’s not going to wake up. Eddie barely stopped the car in front of the emergency room entrance before I swung the door open. By the time I got in holding Y/N, I was met with Nurses and a gurney. After I laid her down and the nurses took her away to start treating her, one nurse took me aside to question me.

“Who is she?” he asked.

“Y/N Y/L/N.”

“How much and what did she drink?”

“Uh, a couple beers, shots of tequila, jello shots. I don’t know exactly, she drank a lot.”

“Okay, thank you.” the nurse was about to walk away.

“Wait! Is she going to be okay? When can I see her?” I asked worriedly.

“Just wait in the waiting room, we will let you know as soon as we know okay?”

I nodded. I sat down in the small waiting room, to play the waiting game. All I could think about was if I would ever see her again, is the last time I see her going to be on a gurney getting whisked away? Would she walk away from this with an ailment, all because I convinced her to go to that stupid party? We graduated from college, she worked so hard to get her insanely good grades, she double majored, worked, socialized and still managed to be 3rd in class. Finally, it was time for her to enjoy herself, celebrating finally graduating college and now she’s in the hospital.

I constantly watched the clock, about an hour after we got here, Eddie and the rest of the losers came and waited. This was a sobering experience.

“You should get some sleep Rich, we’ll wake you up if there's any updates.” Bev said gently.

“I can’t sleep.” I answered.

“You’re exhausted. It’ll be okay if you take a little nap. Y/N would tell you to sleep if it was any of us.” Mike added.

“I can’t sleep.” I repeated emphasizing can’t.

“Come on Richie, let's go for a smoke break.” Bev suggested.

“Alright, just a quick one.” I caved, a cigarette sounded like a good idea.

Walking outside, the warm air hit me. Bev sat on the nearby bench, putting a cigarette between her lips before offering her pack. I took it, lighting the cigarette as it hung between my lips.

“You okay?” Bev asked.

“No.” I answered taking a long drag. “I’m afraid I won’t see her again. On the way here, she lost consciousness and I held her like I did 10 years ago in that house. It’s scary how fragile life is.”

“I’m sure everything will be okay. Y/N is strong.” she nodded.

“I know she is.” I nodded, exhaling. “There’s so much I haven’t gotten to do with her or tell her.”

My eyes got glassy just thinking about it. I took another drag.

“I love her Bev, I love her so much. Last week I bought an engagement ring.” I admitted.

I haven’t told anyone of my plans to propose. “I haven’t planned it out yet. But I’m worried I missed my chance.”

“Don't talk like that.” Bev scolded. “She will be okay. You will propose to her and she’ll say yes. You’ll get married, buy a house, have kids and die from old age.”

“Richie, a doctor is looking for you.” Stan called from the door.

I threw my cigarette on the ground, stepping on it to put it out before running inside.

“Mr. Tozier?” A doctor asked.

“Yes.”

“Y/N has alcohol poisoning. She’ll be fine. We pumped her stomach and gave her some fluids to help flush out the alcohol. She’s sleeping now but you can go in to see her.” She said. “Just you, other visitors will have to wait until tomorrow’s visiting hours.”

“Thank you.” I nodded.

The doctor gave me directions to Y/N’s hospital room. I quietly opened the door, she laid peacefully in bed. The constant beeping of heart monitors indicated her heart was now back to normal. I pulled up a chair to her side, I held her hand as I rested my head on the bed. It wasn’t long before I fell asleep from pure exhaustion.

————

Y/N got better in a couple days after the incident. It’s been almost 2 months since that and I still haven’t proposed but I have it planned out and today’s the day.

“Good morning beautiful.” I smiled.

“Good morning.” she grinned.

“I have to run some errands but I brought you breakfast in bed.”

“Thank you baby.” Y/N said sitting up.

I carefully set the tray of her favorite breakfast on the bed.

“I’ll see you in a bit okay?” I said pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Y/N nodded. “Be careful and I love you.”

“I will and I love you too.” I answered.

Now she just has to find the post it with the riddle that leads her to her first destination, the library on campus where I told her I loved her for the first time. Stan was waiting there while Bev, Bill, Mike and I set up the final location.

I had only been gone for an hour and a half before Stan called saying she was on her way to the second location which was where Ben was waiting, our first apartment together where we often sat on the fire escape and I drunkenly brought up the future during our sophomore year of college. Barely an hour later Ben called.

“We need to hurry, she’s moving too quick.” I stressed, I wanted this to be perfect.

“I’ve got an idea, I'm calling Eddie.”

Bev walked away, returning a few minutes later. 
 “I called Eddie and told him to take her out to lunch to buy us time.”

“Perfect.”

She was on her way to the 3rd location where Eddie would be waiting to take her to lunch and then give her the last post it. He was waiting in front of her favorite used bookstore where she would always drag me in but I was always happy to see her so excited.

2 hours later Y/N was on her way to the final location. The park where we would often have picnics. There is a large tree near our spot that I wrapped christmas lights around. Bev spread out flower petals in front of the tree where I would be waiting. Mike and Bill laid out a huge blanket set up with a basket of food and champagne, candles, rose petals and a large bouquet of Y/N’s favorite flowers. Everyone was there except Y/N but she should be here any second now. Everyone had their cameras ready to go.

“Richie? Whats going on?” Y/N asked. “Did you set this up for me?”

“Come here babe.”

I held her hands as we stood in front of the lit tree.

“All these years of dating, I can’t even begin to tell you how happy you’ve made me. You pick me up when I’m down, you know how to take care of me like nobody else and I can’t imagine my life without you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you by my side and I hope you feel the same. Y/N, my love, you make me the luckiest man in the world, will you marry me?”

She covered her mouth with her right hand, tears streamed down her cheeks as she nodded yes.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Of course, I’ll marry you Richie!” She cried.

I slipped the ring on her finger, pulling her into a tight hug. Pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“I love you.” She smiled, wiping her tears away.

“I love you too.” I said, giving her a kiss. “Now let's celebrate.”

[ritebeforeyoureyes]

Queen

Yay, more procrastination from me! (cries internally)

Masterlist – Plot: Tom’s post of Zendaya on Instagram.

Queen (One-Shot)

Tom loved supporting those he loved – it was why he was up at 1am, British time, awaiting his girlfriend to walk the MET Gala red carpet.

“I think our live streams a bit off.” Harrison commented as he scrolled through his Twitter feed. People were already tweeting memes about outfits they had only seen seconds prior.

“We haven’t missed her, have we?” Tom asked his best friend, his eyes immediately falling to the phone in his hands. Haz and Tess were sat beside him, both of them sleepy eyed and yet simulatenously intrigued by the opulence of the event.

“I don’t think so.“ Just to be sure, Haz decided to creep onto the Zendaya hashtag on Twitter. He scrolled past a few tweets before his eyes bulged open and the phone fell to his lap with a distinguishably audible sound. “What the-“

“Did we miss her?” Tom yelped a little too loudly and Tessa let out one of her own. “Let me see-“

“Nah, bro-“ Haz snatched his phone away from Tom’s reach before he could see exactly what he had been looking at.

The truth was, Zendaya hadn’t walked the red carpet yet. But, the thing that had Haz so shaken up was a rather mean – no, repulsive – set of tweets that had been directed at Zendaya. Despite being the fun loving and caring woman that she was, it had only taken a few mere words for people to undermine her character based on some superficial beliefs. There were unimaginably sinful comments about her race, the way she looked, her and Tom’s relationship. There were death threats … Harrison didn’t understand how somebody had the audacity to tell her to go and slit her throat from behind a computer screen. It was hurtful and uncalled for and after knowing Tom his whole life, Haz knew Tom wasn’t going to react well to seeing such levels of hate directed at the woman he loved.

“What is up with you, man?” Tom forcefully grabbed at Haz’s phone. His eyes scanned over the tweets before a sudden anger fizzled within him. His hands grew clammy and unknowingly, his fists began to clench and unclench. “What the fuck is this?” Tom picked up on some tweets in particular, his and Zendaya’s relationship critiqued and belittled based on their height difference, their colour of skin, their talent.

Tom was always someone who saw the best in people. He liked putting smiles on people’s face; making the world better, one person at a time. But, this, not even he could overlook. Some of the comments made to his Zendaya were utterly disgusting; words he wouldn’t even dare to think about, let alone make known so publicly. It hurt even more knowing that Zendaya was receiving some of this hate because of him.

“People are just messed up.” Haz took the phone back off him; preventing him from further scrolling through Zendaya’s mentions. “You just gotta ignore it-“

“Somebody told her to go kill herself! I can’t just ignore that.” MET Gala forgotten, Tom ran a frustrated hand through his tousled hair. “You know how obsessive she is about interacting with her fans, she’s probably seen that-“

Zendaya loved being able to speak to her fans and Twitter was the easiest way to make that possible. Whenever she had the time, she never hesitated to like and retweet the hilarious tweets mocking her Rocky Blue past or praising her courageous present. She loved seeing women of all shapes and sizes rocking her clothes and embracing their personalities. It made her proud of what she was doing. Her fans were her drive. But with all that good, came the bad. Zendaya was only human. And sometimes, the bad, really got to her. A remark about her weight or her height had Zendaya doubting herself. She’d think twice before stepping out in a baggy pair of sweats or question Law when he wanted to put her in six-inch heels.

Tom sighed heavily, his eyes closing momentarily. He hated that he and Zendaya had to do this whole long-distance shit. He knew their careers came first, but at times like these, he really wished he could just hug her; tell her how beautiful she is, tell her that she has a kind heart, a gracious smile … a banging body. Zendaya was a woman who thrived on verbal reassurance and Tom loved showering her in affection whenever he could, but especially at times when he knew she was probably feeling a little self-conscious.

“You can call her once she’s off the carpet, okay?” Haz tried to reassure his best mate. “But you getting angry isn’t going to help anything.”

Tom nodded reluctantly and tried to let Tessa’s playful cuddliness distract him from the horror he had seen on Twitter. And, strangely enough, it worked. Haz would make a comment about an atrocious outfit whilst Tessa would lick the side of his arm and for a moment, Tom forgot. He chewed at flavourless popcorn and sipped from his beer; his excitement about seeing Zendaya slay the red carpet returning.

“And, here we have …” Giuliana Rancic’s voice dragged as the screen panned from the studio back to the red carpet. “Zendaya.” Tom’s head snapped upwards and the grin that coasted across his features was inevitable. Tessa was howling in the background, but all Tom could focus on was her.

“Wow.” The E! Entertainment commentators were voicing Tom’s opinions about how beautiful Zendaya looked. She was a fashion vision - sexy and daring. Her hair was a soft tinge of red, a homage to both Joan of Arc and Mary Jane Watson. But the outfit … the outfit made her look like the person she was – a fighter. The armour was accurate because Zendaya was a warrior; a woman of colour who not only fought sexism and racism but colourism too.

“Damn son.” Haz clapped Tom on his shoulder in that typical laddish way, Tom smirking in response because she was his. He got to call that long-legged, kind, honest, stunning human his. All Twitter hate aside, Tom felt pride swarm through every fibre of his being and he couldn’t help himself … “Tommy, what are you doing?”

As shots moved to the next A-list celebrity walking the carpet, Tom was readily on his phone and scanning the HD pictures that were being released of Zendaya’s whole look. The smile on his face was imprinted and goofily big as he saved every one of them, mentally picking his favourites. He knew his next move was going to be bold and questionable to many of the antis out there, but Tom couldn’t care any less. He was proud and awestruck of his girlfriend and he was going to let the world know.

“Shutting these haters up.” Harrison just watched Tom curiously as he flicked through all the different angles of Zendaya on the red carpet before posting his favourite to Instagram with the caption – all hail the queen, killing it mate.

“She’s going to kill you, you know.” This time, it was Harrison’s turn to smirk … because there was nothing like the wrath of the all mighty Zendaya Maree Coleman.

“Hey!” Tom raised his arms up in surrender. “I added the mate in there for caution.”

If you enjoyed this piece and would like to help further me and my work, please support me whilst I get through university. The money you donate will go towards assisting me in my student fees. It is one hundred per cent a voluntary pursuit and greatly appreciated, however, your lovely comments and votes are always welcomed too. Thank you for being the greatest: https://ko-fi.com/D1D072V0

[project-outside-the-lines]

Gesture Study

Welcome to my blog. I’m new to writing this kind of adventure, but ive been personally following blogs for years. I’m currently an art student studying in Mankato, MN. I wanted to keep myself accountable for gesture drawings during the summer. I will be posting my hour long sessions results on this page hopefully daily. We will see how that goes. Feel free to check in whenever you feel like, i’m always looking for critique. Never hesitate to leave a comment. These drawings are never meant to be perfect, they are a means of studying the human form. My sessions envolve 30 second warm-ups, 1 minute drills, 5 minute drills, 10 minute drill, and finishes with a 30 minute drawing. If i feel up to it i may go longer and will note that when posting. Gesture drawing is about captioning motion and lighting. I’m excited to dive into this, i hope someone finds this helpful, i will try and post notes with the images as well. Again, if you take time to come to this little blog of mine, i greatly appreciate you.

Signing out.

[humansizedplanet]

first semester.

In the last few days and weeks, I’ve laid witness to a flood of joyous “end-of-first-semester”-type posts on Instagram, Facebook and otherwise. Slides and galleries of shiny, beautiful humans — at parties and museums, in dorm rooms and at galas, some sober and some definitely not — have dominated my feed (and I am sure yours too, for my collegiate peers). So lucky to be here, the captions read. The end to an amazing semester. Whirlwind. Can’t believe it’s over.

From rooftops and in darkness, they shout, implicitly: look at my people! Look at how fun! Look at how deeply I am in love, and look how much I have done!

And I cannot doubt the veracity of these narratives. Rather, I congratulate them. I am sure the photos, or at least I hope so, are captures of moments of joy. They are emblems of what makes college an extraordinary experience for some. In fact, many of us — probably including myself — have experienced one of the best times of our lives this semester in college, whether it be our first or one of our last. In college, joy escapes few who permit themselves to feel it, and who have the circumstances to do so. Joy has acutely rested in the palms of the dominant majority as new experiences, bodies, feelings, and opportunities have bubbled excitedly to the surface. It is normal to live a collegiate life enshrouded by a happy ambiance, momentarily (or, for some, permanently) immune — or perhaps just deflective towards — negativity and anxious stress. I mean, when your school has just won its first NCAA men’s soccer College Cup in institutional history, how can you not stoke the flickering fire in your stomach, the warmth of a newfound pride radiating through every part of your body? When you dance to good music at strange parties, surrounded by those who you have claimed your own, how might you stop the spread of smile? When your professor grants you a good mark or says something kind to you in office hours, what rationale is there to suppress the kick of joy at your belly?

Beyond the scope of sports teams and compliments, my own joy has been immense throughout the last four months. From pieces for the Georgetown Voice + Independent to poetry slams, I’ve found spaces to write and create and share so much of my heart. In class and through conversation, I’ve learned previously unheard narratives and the contours of faces lost to the sands of history. I’ve let dance seep into my bones at concerts and political realism indoctrinate my foreign policy takes in seminars. I’ve tried strange foods and strange music; I’ve sang in stairwells at unholy hours. Most importantly, I’ve tied new knots in an ever-expanding safety net of human beings I love and trust, and these bows are ones made by some of the most considerate, intelligent, talented, and visionary people I’ve had the chance to meet. These are relationships that welcome challenge and fear no depth of dialogue; these are individuals who are happy to free dive into the muddy waters if it means emerging with a new clarity about the world above the surface afterwards. These are people who pivot to the sun without forgetting the shadow that leaks behind, who radiate light but shy, not, from sheer darkness. And God, I am so lucky.

I, too, then, have so much to post about: so much has been good to me.

Yet I cannot help but feel a bit of guilt at the subtractive artifice that comes with presentations of this first semester on social media. Those joyful posts I’ve encountered — and my own paragraph, immediately above — imagine a neon world, full of brightness and joy and success and humor. Indeed, social media is a preservationist tool: they tell us what you put on the Internet is out there forever, and I believe it. It makes sense to plaster joy on our feeds because it memorializes times and people that make us happy. Why not seal them in amber, parade them around like trinkets? Certainly, it’s better to celebrate what is joyful rather than what is tragic. I myself curate meticulously: my Instagram is filled with the flash of teeth, and it makes me happy to share with the world the moments of joy that I feel profoundly.

But in doing so, we lose the messy, real edges. We erase unshapely life. The neon world ends up neglecting the hours that are not so glorious, and preaches delusional narrative to the consuming masses that all is to be filled with joy. Perhaps social media is not meant to be very realistic, but I have spent so many hours in its vestiges that I refuse to accept that this must be its only formulation. I write this post not to critique social media or launch into yet another explanation of how social media changes our psychology and has toxic aftereffects. As (mostly) conscious consumers, we are all aware of this truth. I am sure many of you have gone on your own social media cleanses, have identified how it propagates challenges with self-esteem and forms artificial, at-times untenable expectations.

So I come to you, instead, with an admittance of (at least some of) the messier edges of my own college experience. Yes, it has been defined so loudly by joy: I feel lucky every day to be at Georgetown and to be surrounded by such magic. But for every night of spontaneity and fun and happiness and catharsis there has also been one of struggle. For one, college is also about confronting loneliness, and normalizing social singularity. I ate many meals alone this semester, many more than I would like to admit. Sometimes as a result of schedule, sometimes as a result of intention (“needing space”), and other times simply because I was too shy to ask someone to dinner, I found myself often in the dining hall amidst a pulsating, socialized universe. And though I had always been so comfortable with loneliness — as the only child of immigrant parents, this reality is unavoidable — I found the collegiate breed of it to be particularly corrosive. What am I doing wrong? I wondered. Am I not good enough?

And it is this question of “good enough” that defines so many of the darker narratives of the collegiate experience. So much of college — at least at Georgetown — is this process of trying out for things; applications for clubs and fellowships and grants build a mountain of attempts to try to throw yourself into things. This story is, I think, particularly familiar to the first-year student: we are told, before even stepping foot on campus, that there is some family here for you. Most of the time, there is — and so it makes sense to continue this narrative. But the result is that freshmen blindly throw themselves at things, and so much emotional gravity is placed on acceptance into these spaces. Rejection, eventually, becomes a quiet but familiar face for so many. Rationalizing with it yields no comfort; ultimately, there is only the necessity of accepting that you are not meant to be certain places at certain times, and the search continues. You convince yourself that you are good enough…for something. Hopefully. And I searched. Even when I was lucky enough to have been given entrypoints, I was still confronted with this persistent question: is this it? Am I here?

When asked about my support system — my place on campus, more specifically — by old friends, former teachers, even fellow freshmen on campus, I came up with a routine answer: still working on it. I am still working on it. This is no hyperbolic dramatization: I think the cycle is still spinning in my laundry machine. The engineer of that machine never gifted me a timer, however, so I see no end to this process. I know it must come, at some point, but when? How will I even know?

This sense of perpetuity — this continuous question of finding where exactly I belong — has been accompanied by a strange reorientation of social place. Beyond mere loneliness, I found myself often struggling to parse through the literal thousands of students I was surrounded by. How do I find my people? Who do I even like? What do I even like? What the hell am I even doing? I struggled with my gut instincts about individuals because in the past I have been proven, again and again, so profoundly wrong. First impressions rarely reveal the elemental nature of relationships. So on a college campus where the only real tool towards beginning to feel social place is capitalizing on first impressions, what do you even do?

Even those that I found myself gravitated to — things were not always pretty. Nor will they be. People fight. Misunderstandings happen. Even beyond conflict, I found myself time and time again having to help friends confront new challenges in their personal lives. Lots of hands held. Lots of hugs given. Many hours of sitting in the quiet. Presence matters. And it’s hard, often, to be as present as you need to be.

There was a reckoning with the past, too. There were catch-up calls with old high school friends where I felt, suddenly, like a foreigner peering into their local lives, startled by how much of their worlds were no longer landscapes I could even begin to understand. I struggled to figure out who to message when I got off the plane at Thanksgiving because I didn’t know who liked me enough to spend their precious hours with me during those short days. There were text message discussions with my former high school teachers where I felt alien, too mature and yet not enough to exist, still, in their worlds. And along the lines of all of this was a quiet fear that I had done it all in high school, and that I had left so much for so little.

You may have noticed the excess of rhetorical questions that have colonized the last few paragraphs of this piece. I think it’s clear that I’m still in a state of inquiry. And I accept it joyously, because that state of inquiry had historically always led to better results for me in both lab reports and in general life things. Just know that as I have questioned and answered and questioned again, there have been valleys as much as there have been peaks.

If you’re a first-year student reading this and haven’t had the best few months of your life, I hear you. I love you. Your story is valid. There were many nights where I felt like I was the only one going through stuff, even though I knew there definitely were so many others feeling the same way. There were many sad moments in private library rooms where I chewed on gummy candy and contemplated why I was where I was. In shower stalls, mindlessly letting water cascade, wondering if my day was going to be any good. If you’re a first-year student reading this and have experienced nothing but utmost joy, props. I hope, dearly, that it lasts. If you’re yet to enter college, I hope reading this demolishes any pressure you have come next fall to make your freshman year perfect. It might not be. And that’s okay. And if you’re one of the lucky people that is years older, I hope this post related experiences and validated emotions you may have felt so many years ago.

When I look back on the last four months, I refuse the rose-colored glasses. Not everything has been easy. But in seeing my first semester realistically, with all its mess, I find such value and such room for optimism for the next one. I’m incredibly excited. Sunlight feels good now, don’t it? So many kisses. x

[leaveharmony]

Transcription of the english subtitles on part two of a two-part documentary / interview with Shinsuke Nakamura, produced by NJPW in 2014.

Part one is Here

The teaser:

SN (about Wrestle Kingdom in general and WK9  in particular): As for me... sometimes it's  different because after all this is the  biggest event and will affect how I grow and  what my legacy will be as a pro werestler.   Many important matches have taken place in  this arena so I really feel how special that  place is. 

(the main part of the video opens at Kenchoji  Temple in Kamakura City.  Shinsuke steps  through the gates)

Caption: Before the match Nakamura visited  Kenchoji

Caption: What was his intention?

(Shinsuke steps up to a shrine, removes his  hat, and offers a little prayer)

Caption: His reason for visiting was... “zen meditation”

(Shinsuke sits down sock-footed and lotus- positioned, on a cushion inside.  He has  stripey socks on, and looks entirely  composed. 

(Time passes, then we switch to an  exterior shot - Shinsuke sits in a doorway,  looking outside.)

Caption: Inspiration on Jan 4th Tokyo Dome

SN: The place makes my mind clear.  I don't  even think of the match. (he laughs)  It's  nice right now, very quiet.  Also it's a  great view.  There is no noise in what you're  seeing. 

Caption: Opponent - Kota Ibushi

SN: Yeah.  Being chosen for “Best Bout,”  people ask me if the bar has been raised for  me.  I really don't think that is the case.   In a manner of speaking, in a match, you are  trusting with confidence.  This isn't good to  say, but if my opponent isn't terrible, then  I can expect to be immersed in feelings I've  never had before.  This is different from  winning Best Bout Osaka.  I can expect  something totally new.  What I do for fun and  my crew's influence, those kind of factors  around me lead me to set myself free.  I just  want to unleash everything.  A part of me  feels that way.  I...want my matches to give  me something different from other bouts and  wrestlers. 

Caption: The moment of inspiration

SN:  Especially with my behavior, what I do  is influenced by what I experienced outside  of the ring.  I'm putting all these  experiences in a bottle of Shinsuke Nakamura.   What you see me doing in the ring is like  opening the bottle and releasing all of those  senses and experiences.  For now, it's more  like relaxing.

(a bit of rasslin' footage plays)

Caption: The birth of YeaOh!

SN:  It isn't profound, but rather it just  comes out, which is why it can express all  these emotions through an expression...if you  try to write it out it would be “YeaOh!”.  I  wasn't born with the urge to say “YeaOh!”  after my matches but somehow that expression  came out of me.  When I first used it, fans  must have thought “What's wrong with this  guy?”   “What the hell is he thinking?”  I  felt like that too.  Even now I imagine that  might be the case.  I also get a pang in when  the midst of saying it like, "Are you nuts?   You're weirding out the fans."  They are  critical of my every move.  There are times  when I enjoy that reaction though.  At times  like that when I decide to just do whatever I  want, it feels like all my emotions coming  out.  Certainly, it is overdoing it a bit.  

(the scene changes to a street at night, but  well lit.  

Caption: Nakamura heads to the next place

Caption: Kamakura Wood Carving Workshop,  Kenyoudou, Kamakura City.  Kamakura Wood  Carving Lacquerware crafting passed down from  the Kamakura Period using delicate etched  patterns in wooden objects painted repeatedly  in black and vermilion lacquer.

Caption: Fumitoshi Fukaya, a traditional  craftsman

(Shinsuke and Fukaya are seated at a table,  Fukaya is examining a one of the blank  plates, and Shinsuke is watching)

FF: Have you always had a talent for this?

SN: I suppose so.  

FF: It is most important that you enjoy the  craft.  

SN: I only had crafting at elementary school.

Caption: Try: Ginkgo leaf pattern tray

(Shinsuke is carving, absorbed, while Fukaya  watches and critiques)

FF: How can I put it?  He is a fast learner.   He has a good technique.  See, he uses the  blade...to cut up and down rocking it.  This  is a hard cut to make.  I do think his  strength helps here though.  That is  certainly not a negative.  Until now I have  taught hundreds of students, and he is one of  only 3 or 4 who really stood out and can  handle the blade and manipulate the medium. 

(Shinsuke laughs a bit skeptically, but also  sounds pretty chuffed by this)

FF: I'm not being nice, but merely being  honest.  This is sort of thing...people are  naturally capable or not.  People who have  that sense can be identified just by letting  them try it. 

FF: Recently, in the same vein I have been  drawing there are times I get totally  absorbed. 

SN (laughing): When I made my friend's  wedding welcome board, I didn't have enough  time.  I had to really concentrate.  

Caption: Nakamura's artistic spirit stirs

FF: Lightly here

SN: I see.

(Fukaya demonstates something)

FF: Naturally, here.  You can see that,  right?

SN: Yes.

FF: It is a turtle shell pattern, as you  know.  

(Shinsuke goes back to carving.  He's carving  his name on the back.)

SN: It's thin..

FF: That's it. 

Interview person who has until now remained  silent: How is it.

FF: It's just as you see it.  Fabulous!  In  particular, the cuts are very smooth.  The  cuts keep going.  When you look at it this  way, you see it clearly.  The cuts and edges  wouldn't keep going.  That is a sign of skill  with the blade.  

SN (laughing):  Leave the cutlery to me.

FF: Leave it to you?

IQ: Was this your first try?

SN: Yes, but...I saw kamakura wood carving  and wanted to learn how.  I'm glad I did.   All that is left is...

(he takes the plate again and finishes  something, apparently having percieved a  flaw)

(we cut to another street, a little later.   Shinsuke is carrying a bag, wearing his  ridiculous customized judo outfit and a light  jacket over top, with flip flops.  Walking up  the stairs in them, he looks like he somehow  has about 12 knees)

Caption: 9PM Nakamura enters a multi-tenant  building.  We were headed towards...Carpe  Diem Brazilian jiu-jitsu dojo, Kamakura City

(Shinsuke enters a small, crowded space full  of people practicing and being instructed in  jiu-jitsu.  Various greetings.)

Caption: Nakamura sought out jiu-jitsu for  the first time this year

(we see one of the instructors, Shigeaki  Tsuboi, guiding Shinsuke through something- or-other)

Caption: Nakamura is well versed in MMA, but  hasn't had the chance to properly learn jiu- jitsu

(the instructor goes through a series of  movements with the class)

Caption: Why jiu-jitsu?

SN (speaking just outside, sweating pretty  profusely):  It's for my health. (laughs)  To  be honest though, learning something new is  one part of it.  It is also good for general  conditioning.  If I keep up proper sparring,  it improves my internal balance.  I get a  better sense of my body.  Utilizing my weight  is what I have been doing for a long time.   This is why I started seriously studying  about jiu-jitsu.  You can master both jiu- jitsu and pro wrestling together.  It doesn't  have to be easy, but I feel I'm getting good  at both of them.  The knowledge of MMA and  grappling can sometimes apply and sometimes  can't, either way it's really stimulating to me.  

Caption: Nakamura's jiu-jitsu challenge

ST (the instructor):  He will start from the  basics to fix something.  He has conviction,  but he has to start from step 1.  The other  members are glad to have him.  He is  something else.  He is flexible.  In  exchange, he doesn't go all out.  He  understands fight artistry.  I want to see  him rise to black belt in jiu-jitsu.  

Caption: Nakamura having only started jiu- jitsu can still offer advice confidently  through his experience with MMA

(Shinsuke is shown correcting and advisig  somebody)

Caption: To make the practice complete,  sparring has started in closing.

(Shinsuke spars with one of the members.  I  think he's got the upper hand but its' tricky  to tell sometimes lol.  Anyway he's on top  and none of his limbs seem in peril.  He gets  an armbar position in and the guy gives up.   This happens twice with two different people.   Shinsuke beams.)

Caption: Last spar of the day

(Shinsuke rolls around on the ground with a  third opponent, this one seems trickier to  get by, but again...I'm no expert.  He seems  to do pretty well, though.  They hit the time  limit.  Shinsuke's jacket is wildly out of  place.  Somebody says "Wow!"  Shinsuke sits  down, laughing.)

IQ: You seem to be having fun.

SN: Do I?  I love this.  I really love this stuff.  There are folks who never do any of  this.  It's a matter of interests.   Ultimately, everything comes down to control  over your body.  I want something that takes  me to the next level.  It's important to know  your body like this.  

Caption: Hints on the Ibushi match?

SN: I have to put up my antenna for every  direction.  You don't know what you need to  make yourself stronger.  I'm eliminating a  lot of unnecessary factors.  Eventually I  realized all that matters is my own body.  As  a next step, I want something that takes me  to the next level.  The something could be  from martial arts or...even I can find it in  pro wrestling.  You might be able to find it  anywhere but it is not easy.  

Caption: A message for the fans looking to  Jan. 4th

SN: I have nothing, but I look forward to  what's next.

(Shinsuke turns, and goes back into the dojo)

------

@yungcrybby-anonymousbosch @torukun1 @lone-gunwoman-of-the-week

[solenelanza]

Even stuck at home, he was on the spot. The great British artist decided to create an Art Club broadcasted every Monday night on Channel 4. A digital one for sure. As life is still in lockdown in the UK, I had to sort out my memories to find some amazing surprises like meeting the top-notch creator once.

Même enfermé chez lui, il savait rester sous les feux de la rampe. Le génial artiste britannique a même créé son Art Club, retransmis tous les lundis soirs sur Channel 4. De façon virtuelle évidemment ! Et comme la vie au Royaume-Uni est toujours au temps du confinement, j’ai trouvé en rangeant mes tiroirs de jolis souvenirs ensevelis, comme cette rencontre avec le créateur so British ! 

As a journalist, I had the chance to meet legendary photographer Martin Parr, to attend to comedian Chris Addison Opera’s premiere and to visit Grayson Perry’s first solo show since 7 years with the artist him-self. Another step into British culture with this unique creative mind. 

Ma vie de journaliste m’a poussé à suivre les pas de Martin Parr, photographe sociologiquement respectable,  permis  d’assister à la première à l’opéra du comique Chris Addison et de visiter la première exposition solo de Grayson Perry depuis 7 ans avec … l’artiste en personne. Un pas de plus dans l’exploration de la culture anglaise. 

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🎨"What a piece of art!" The kind of comments you can't do for the moment at the museum 🤷‍♀️ * 🇬🇧 Is it the new map of #london ? Well @alanmeasles is always right 🐻 #art * 🇨🇵 Les expositions me manquent. 🖼️Hâte de vous revoir à la prochaine virtuelle @saiankata @mathilde_pipelette 🤓 On t'attend @aurepouiki 🤭Qui vient à la prochaine ?

A post shared by WTFrenchie in Rocking London (@soleneelle) on May 14, 2020 at 1:46pm PDT

Too many colors. Why is it so provocative ? That’s the kind of comments I heard at the Serpentine Gallery. Well, that’s true that the Brexit Map of the entire England, a bling-bling motorbike called Kenilworth AM1 and Reclining Artist, giant nude of the artist could deeply catch the eyes. As that time, Grayson Perry invented « The Most Popular Exhibition Ever ». A very modest and totally ironic, as usual, view point on art and society for this unique British artist.

Trop de couleurs ? Et de provocation ? Voici le genre de commentaires entendus à la Serpentine Gallery. Bon il est vrai que la carte de Brexit du pays, la moto richement décorée et un nu gigantesque de l’artiste lui-même pouvaient un peu surprendre. En ce temps-là, Grayson Perry était le maître de  « The Most Popular Exhibition Ever » (comprenez l’exposition la plus populaire jamais faite). Une vision, et totalement ironique, comme toujours, sur l’art et la société  de ce concepteur.

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Back to business with #arty time 🤔😘 Welcome back to #brexit Land 🖌😊😣 * Tout, vous saurez tout sur la vision du Royaume-Uni par Grayson Perry sur @lepetitjournalcom.londres * 🏞📣 He lives in a House A very big House in the country It's like animal farm That's the rural charme in the country 🐮🎵 * * #London #art #hydepark #serpentine #Gallery #inspiration #feelinggood #House #home #uk #arts #graysonperry #politics #cute #kawaii #Mountains #exhibition #colours

A post shared by WTFrenchie in Rocking London (@soleneelle) on Aug 29, 2017 at 8:15am PDT

The artist can be indeed a bit surprising. Winner of the Turner Prize, Royal Academician, CBE in the Queen’s Birthday Honours, Grayson Perry never hesitates to wear pants, lipsticks and dresses. Claire, « a 19th century reforming matriarch, a middle-England protester for No More Art, an aero-model-maker, or an Eastern European Freedom Fighter » was not only his alter ego but also the inheritance of his experiences at the Roxy punk Soho club, partying with his next famous roommate-to-be, Boy George.

Ce n’était pas la première fois que le plasticien désarçonnait son monde. Honoré par le prix contemporain si convoité Turner Prize, Membre du Royal Academy of Art, récompensé de l’Ordre britannique à l’occasion de l’anniversaire de la Reine, Grayson Perry n’a jamais hésité à porter jupon, mascara et robes ! Claire n’était pas que son alter égo mais aussi l’héritage humanisé de ses expériences au club punk de Soho, le Roxy, à l’époque où il faisait la fête avec son colocataire futur pop star, Boy George.  

It was not Claire but Grayson who was the unique guide of a Super Rich Interior Decoration. With a kind of Message T Shirt which read My Life is a Crap. What an entrance for this decoration style show! Well like in a house, first step was a big Tapestry called Large expensive abstract painting, more or less animage of a kind of London, « spiritual home to so many of the world’s super rich ». A World where shopping is key as it is seen in the giant glazed ceramic on which his heroin Claire « as a manic grand dame » strikes the pose in front of every single luxury shop.

Ce n’était pas Claire mais bien Grayson lui-même qui vint faire le guide de l’exposition : Super Rich Interior Decoration. Avec une façon de savoir accueillir son monde et une énorme inscription : My Life is a Crap sur son T-Shirt du jour ! Belle entrée pour cet événement autour de la décoration d’intérieur. Et comme dans chaque maison, la première étape était d’affronter la tapisserie géante qui faisait face à l’entrée! Une certaine idée de l’urbanisme londonien, « la maison spirituelle de tant de super riches de ce monde ». Un univers où le shopping est roi comme sur la céramique « Shopping for Meaning » sur laquelle son héroïne Claire prenait la pose « comme une grande dame excentrique » devant tous les magasins de luxe de notre époque.

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Talking about image with the success of Instagram, the artist had to gather some copyright free images to create his Searching with Authenticity ceramic. « The global conformity of those who refuse to be labelled. » For the social critic, we shouldn’t look down as the giant carpet representing a homeless man is named. Add a bit of tax heavens to get the perfect cocktail, that’s what the visitor had to take a ride with the Sponsored By You woodblock print  and the characters of the piece of art : Claire and Alan Measles. 

D’ailleurs en parlant d’image, et avec la mode d’Instagram, l’artiste a voulu rassembler des images libres de droits sur un vase pour créer un certain « Searching With authenticity ». Pour la critique sociale, il fallait jeter un coup d’oeil plus bas. « Don’t look down » représentait un SDF sur un tapis luxueux. Pour avoir le cocktail le plus savoureux, il fallait ajouter un brin de paradis fiscal et c’était le cas avec Sponsored by You où le visiteur était invité à prendre le large avec le panthéon personnel de l’artiste : Claire et Alan Measles.

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As the artist loved introducing his wife the author Philippa Perry in the Art School TV show, he is really stuck to his teddy bear named after a disease : Alan Measles and his many incarnations haunted Grayson Perry’s creation. As in a Limited edition Handbag designed by Grayson Perry in collaboration with Osprey, the London luxury leather handbags. If it looks like a well crafted Louis Vuitton replica, the face of the special Teddy Bear and especially this very male way to open the bag can ring a bell, that it was, after all, more a piece of art that the new It-Bag. In Three words: Provocation, politics and humour. British humour. 

A l’image de la femme de l’artiste omniprésente dans son émission de télévision, il était très attaché à son nounours d’enfance nommé d’après une maladie : Alan Measles ; ses incarnations hantaient l’oeuvre de Perry. Et ainsi, un sac semblable à un accessoire griffé LV intitulé « Limited edition Handbag designed by Grayson Perry « en collaboration avec Osprey, le maroquinier londonien, le visage du fidèle ourson et surtout sa façon si particulière et virile d’ouvrir ledit sac pouvait rappeler que ce n’était pas le futur it bag à la mode mais bien une oeuvre d’art. En trois mots : provocation, politique et humour. Mais British humour !

Texts & Pictures: Solène L.

Pour d’autres histoires musicales à Londres, suivez-moi ou contactez-moi 😉

    I was taught about art by Grayson Perry Even stuck at home, he was on the spot. The great British artist decided to create an Art Club broadcasted every Monday night on…