#he has so much of it i struggle but i found sum that works for me nowee

[grimstrawberry]

how does it feel to have a face like that? (how does it feel to be replaced like that?)

[anadiasmount]

fireplace talks - jude bellingham x reader.

quick sum: after a eventful holiday dinner, your boyfriend shares his most devoted love language with you by the fireplace.

wc: 1.2k | masterlist | jude’s masterlist

psa 🗣️: EEEWKK okay i literally love this idk why, it’s just so fluffy and warm, ughh… i love the holidays and bf! jude has a special place in mi corazon!! 🤍🤍

“i want to be as close as possible,” jude frowned as he fixed his position, his forehead resting on your neck as his cheek squished against your skin, feeling his heavy sigh as he finally found that spot. his arm was around you as he played with the tiny “j” necklace on you. you felt and heard his soft breaths as a silent air passed.

you both had decided to host a small holiday party in your home, for everyone to celebrate and get together. your friends, some of his teammates, and their family, it was a full house. but it was just those dinners you dreamed of as a kid, no drama just full-on getting along, with a holiday spirit.

what you most looked forward to was the fireplace to which you hadn’t used yet and waited off till tonight's dinner. it had been a funny but difficult task to do, jude struggling with the wood and its attempt to turn it on, hearing small groans and curses from time to time, when in reality all it needed was a bit of gas and old newspaper.

jude had helped you move around furniture and the dining table to fit everyone setting the table cover and its runner, in the kitchen he also helped you with slicing fruit and veggies and stirred the pots. his old rock music played in the back, grabbing you from time to time to dance and spin you as he sang.

yet during the dinner, jude and you were strangers. not intentionally, but you both tended to ensure everyone you loved and cared about felt comfortable and not left out. he did assist with setting the table with the food and extra plates. you greeted everyone as you finished a spicy sauce for the meal, took pictures, and captured core memories.

the evening went from a loud chatter to quiet conversations while drinking some hot chocolate or tea. some of you were inside, or others outside as jude liked to show off the patio he had rebuilt and constructed after moving in. you could hear the tiny kids running as the played tag or hide and seek, or colored in the coloring books you bought for them.

but now it was just you and jude, after saying goodbyes jude had moved his white couch closer to the fireplace where he felt the warmth after purposely turning down the heater. “geez, why is it so cold?” you shivered as you ran your hands over your shoulders. “Don’t know, come here, its warm,” jude said as he showed you the set up of pillows and a huge comforter.

as much as jude loved to be a big spoon, he loved being a small spoon as well, which is why he felt most safe and warm like this on top of you. the room filled with the sound of wood burning and the smell of ashes as it fumed. “you tired?” jude asked, as you had stopped scratching the back of his neck.

“not one bit,” you laughed.

“thank you for everything you did for me and our guests today, i know how much work and dedication you put in for this to be perfect,” jude spoke as he looked up and saw your eyes glow with the fireplace. “it was such a perfect evening, and we both needed it.”

“we truly did, i’m just thankful everything turned out as planned. everyone loved the spritz cranberry drinks, and the cookies you baked, but shh, they don’t have to know they're store-bought,” you motioned with your finger against your lips. jude let out a small laugh and propped himself against your chest.

“what are you thinking now?” you rolled your eyes playfully.

“what do you mean? i'm just sitting up,” jude defended.

“uh uh, you've had this look since our guest arrived and you know me, and i have to know. so tell me,” you pressed, jude shaking his head as he grinned. “i’m just extra thankful for this christmas this year… last year we were barely getting to know each other and i almost fucked that up,” jude grimaced as he scratched his head awkwardly.

it was true! jude and you had slowly distanced yourself from each other after some small miscommunication and you almost ended things because you felt like he didn’t want you anymore. but jude didn’t give up, he made sure to tell and express just how much you meant to him, and since then you’ve been inseparable.

“this year, you’re mine finally, and i get to spend my favorite holiday with you, wrapped up like this,” jude snuggled back and tickled you, hearing your burst of laughter. “i’m serious, just makes me think, this is just the start of something that will last forever,” jude whispered. “i hope you know you’re it for me. there’s no one else i want in this world if it isn't you…”

“jude…”

“i know i may not always be here, but no matter where i am, i’m yours and you’re mine. you have no idea just how much you mean and have done for me, and i don’t know how i can ever repay that. but just know that my heart belongs to you, that i love you, and that i can’t for our future together,” jude declared, from the bottom of his heart, his voice laced with shakiness.

“judeee, why do you always get sentimental with me at this time of night,” you laugh as you feel your eyes sting, your chest warm and fuzzy. “because my love language is physical touch and words of affirmations or whatever the hell you call it,” jude says, kissing your jaw.

“that and many more, hmm,” you run your hand against his back. “you know i struggle putting my words and sorting out my feelings, and i'm still learning how to communicate them, but i’m with you or without you no matter what. you’ve brought out the best of me, make me feel like the luckiest girl, and knowing that i’m with you? i just know im safe and sound from the world... i love you,” you pout, giggling when jude kisses the inner corners of you mouth.

“hmm, you love me?” jude teases.

“no i don’t actually,” you shake your head, jude tickling your side. “okay! okay! i do, i do! i love you thisss much,” you show him your pinch fingers to where jude gives you a look. “that’s not enough,” jude says. “say it, say you love me or i’ll hide your candy stash,” he warns earning a gasp from you. “you wouldn’t….”

“oh i would…”

“iloveyou…” you say stammering and quickly, not liking how he was putting you in the spot. “uh uh, i didn’t hear that right…” jude taunted further, his fingers sliding up your side. “i… love… you,” you said it clearly, jude laughing as he propped himself up and gave you a kiss that had you weak in seconds. “i love you more…”

he was perfect. your life was perfect. tonight was perfect. and in this moment it was perfect.

[creativity-deficient]

Anywayssss I genuinely think this is one of the most important creek scenes we have so far and I don’t see a lot of people talk about it so let’s get into it

So it all goes back to this scene-

I know it’s generally agreed upon amongst the fandom that Tweek and Craig were only fake dating/doing it for the town at first, but at some point their relationship became real, and it’s easy to see why, I mean, it is left pretty vague in all fairness.

I, however though, don’t believe this to be the case? Like YES, the town shipping them together is absolutely what brought them together in the first place, and they did not seem to have any interest towards each other before that, that’s indisputable. HOWEVER I don’t think that necessarily means their relationship was “fake” either. I do think it took time and work to get to where they are now, but I also think that the whole situation, as crazy as it was, not only helped them both to be more open and honest with themselves about their sexualities, but also in the end, DID genuinely bring them closer together.

One thing I have always found super interesting about Tweek in this episode (and this could just be me) is that unlike Craig, he doesn’t seem to struggle as much with accepting his sexuality but rather, how he will be perceived because of it. His first thought when finding out about all the yaoi art is “what if my parents find out?” He’s afraid and anxious of what others will THINK of him if they know.

But in this scene, it’s clear that he’s no longer afraid, and I feel what he says to Craig here sums it up pretty well-

“I’m so sorry Craig, you made me believe in myself in a way I never have before. I didn’t think it had any of that in me but, you were right! I can do more than I think. You CHANGED something in me and I want to fix whatever’s hurting you now.”

It’s because of CRAIG that he now has this newfound confidence, and I truly believe it changed his perspective of him. Obviously I don’t think he full on fell in love with Craig right there and then, but I DO think that Craig being the first person to ever really make him believe in himself has made him start to see him in a different light, acting as the catalyst for what was about to come (in more ways than one, but that’s another rant)

It’s no secret that Tweek lives a pretty tough life. He’s abused, neglected, and no one really takes him seriously

But Craig?

Craig is the first person who has actually made feel Tweek SEEN. Like he’s MORE than what others, including himself, think that he is

It’s such a brief scene, but I feel like it says SO much, because even just being there, sitting together on the couch and being able to talk about WHATEVER without feeling like he’s going to be judged because of it is probably WAY more than anyone else has ever done for him

And you can tell it means the world to him

[cynthiav06]

Percy is a dude from the category of screaming "what the hell did you do!" and solve all the problems in 5 minutes. Everyone would have been dead a long time ago if it wasn't for him.

I have mixed opinions on this. On one hand, Percy is the type of person to wait about for the problem to disappear by itself just so he doesn't have to deal with it. Cause even before he found out he was a demigod, he was 100% done with everyone's shit.

But I do agree that he would be able to solve all problems because through so many books we have seen that no matter how much prior planning Annabeth or the Seven or anyone else does, Percy always does his own thing at the end. And it works out mostly for the better than whatever initial situation anyone else had in mind because Percy thinks almost too well on his feet. Every time.

But Percy has such low self esteem that he sees the fact that he has to make so many improvisations more so as his plans never working as less so as an exceptional ability to adapt. Especially when at times he can easily sense that some titan/giant is too powerful so he maneuvers around a direct fight and ends up defeating them by pure strategy and still ends up thinking of himself as "Oh shit I seriously had no plans. I am so reckless and stupid".

His whole character arc could have been evolving into a more confident and self assured but still the usual sarcastic laid back version of himself who no longer doubts his own abilities and becomes the great leader he showed many signs of being. But no, Rick had to ruin it all because, for some reason, 10+ books later and almost all the characters are still the same, just decorated with even more trauma. Rick being Rick, and instead of showing characters working out their traumas and insecurities, he just slaps a relationship on them, and lo and behold, all is better again somehow.

I am kind of disappointed that we never got to see Percy or any other members of the Seven do any solo missions(aside from Annabeth in MoA) . She almost had the very quintessential realization about she needs others and how her hubris will ruin everything if she doesn't keep it in check only for whatever she was doing in the later parts House of Hades and all of Chalice of the Gods to take away even that little bit of character development.

And cause solo missions working out perfectly well for Percy while most other demigods struggle a bit to make it work might finally make him realize that his plans don't suck and he is actually a really really good strategist and somehow an even better manipulator. (Though more on that and his observational skills later).

Or make characters like Frank and Leo whose unique abilities and perspectives on combat could have been shown off more, making them all become more self-reliant.

And even so we could finally get proper idea of limits of certain characters like Piper (cause charmspeak isn't going to get her everywhere) or Hazel (we so need more scenes of her surprising demigods and monsters with not only her unique jewel abilities and her magic.) Plus Nico's combat limits, Jason's stamina limits (no I am not considering that part of canon, you can't tell me it's true, I refuse to stand by it), Thalia's character development as well as her honing her powers and combat abilities more.

So yeah, we really should have gotten a few solo missions instead of so many short stories and all. And a bit more cross-over highlighting the power levels between the Norse, Greek, Roman, and Egyptian demigods/magicians/Valhalla residents/Valkyrie and so on.

To sum it up, tons of missed opportunities by Riordan and even more tragic and terrible progression of previously great characters who just needed a well-made character arc or even some favoritism. (I am looking at Grover and Rachel, who both could have done so so much if Rick had only realized the awesome potential they had).

I have said it many times that it's #percy jackson supremacy. So hell yes everyone would be dead without him, and he is arguably the best protagonist out of any other fantasy action book series. All hail Percy Jackson, the master of sass, and the most beloved but somehow still the most misinterpreted character in the fandom. Really liked this ask, would love more of these regarding Percy or any other characters.

[rainbowolfe]

God there's so much to analyze in Alastor's and Lucifer's duet that reveals. So much about the inner workings of Alastor. He's so worked up, I believe we are literally seeing his "true colors". And while he covers himself in a layer of Prideful Red, he's truly fueled by Envy and Greed.

V

Buuut he clearly embodies Lust and Sloth too. Mimzy does say he was a heavy drinker.

But what I found extra interesting was this shot, of how Alastor seems to perceive the guests at the hotel. He even draws Angel with four arms.

And naturally he draws them all with a smile 😌

Pentious and Husk are blue, Vaggie is green, and Angel is a shade of blue-green. The colors sum up what he likes about them.

"Lust" has the obvious meaning, but it also encompasses pleasure-seeking behavior as a whole. Which is what Alastor does, he does what's fun, and surrounds himself with those he finds amusing. The reasoning he gives for wanting to be at the hotel is because he takes pleasure in watching others struggle and fail anyways. His torture of souls on a live broadcast is pretty vouyeristic too.

So, he finds Pent and Husk amusing/fun to be around, that tracks. Greeds a bit harder to interpret when directed at another person. Maybe there's something Vaggie has that he wants, physically or otherwise. Though it's not as if Vaggie has much.

Perhaps it really is Charlie's acceptance and attention. We see Alastor seek out validation from other Overlords, but he only ever gets it from people he doesn't want it from. He may see Charlie as a sort of equal, and thus values her praise (and therefore takes her criticism more harshly, note his annoyance only shows when Charlie gives notes on his commercial and not Vaggie).

Angel's color is interesting then, because it means he's both to Alastor. Angel has something he wants, and Al enjoys the "entertainment" he brings.

[lo-toh-takes]

Lily: "Hunter is a boring white boy who takes the spotlight from the other poc characters!"

"Okay, that's...that's not really a sound argument, but whatever, if you dont like Hunter, why don't talk about the other poc characters in the show? Why don't you talk about Luz?"

Lily: "Luz has become an angsty teen, I mean, I get that she found out she accidentally helped a man who's literally planning to commit a g3nocide of witches and take over the human world, but seriously, why is she sooooo annoyingly depressed ? 🙄 The only appropriate response is to be angry and hungry for revenge, or work on the portal tirelessly and neglect her friends and family, only THEN it's appropriate for her to be upset and sad."

"That's....that's not- whatever, then why don't talk about Gus or Willow? You said they've been sidelined in the show a lot-"

Lily: "Gus has been sidelined a looot, he's such an interesting character, I love him he's such a cute kid, but I'm NOT making a video on him, or really talk about him much unless it's to mention how sidelined he is. And Willow should've been Luz's girlfriend instead of Amity. Willow and Luz had more groundwork for a relationship! *shows one pic of Luz and Willow holding hands*

"Wha- No, they didn't! And what's wrong with Amity being Luz's girlfriend?!"

Lily: "Oh, nothing, they're both so cute and lovely! This is the gay rep in cartoons that I've been waiting to see for years!....buuuuut, the only reason why Amity's popular and liked within the fandom is because she's white. She doesn't have a real personality. Her only trait as a character is just abusive parents and being Luz's girlfriend, that's it. And whenever people show art of Lumity, it's ONLY focusing on Amity, never Luz, and theyll think shes the main character instead of Luz, and when I found out about the show cause I saw a clip of Eda, and i thought she was the main character, only for it to turn out to be Luz. That was my experience finding out about the show, therefore EVERYONE will think Amity is the main character instead of Luz and will be surprised that Luz is the actual protagonist."

"....You do realize people like Amity and Hunter because of their personalities and struggles, right? Heck, some people find Amity's struggle with abusive parents relatable. Same thing with Hunter, a lot of fans, and me personally, love Hunter because of his arc of growing up indoctrinated and escaping the cult he was raised in -"

Lily: "No, no you don't."

"Do...do you not have no counter argument to what I'm saying? You do realize you can't just say "no you don't" to arguments with people?!"

Lily: "Yeah well, the only reason you like Hunter is because he's an angsty white-"

"I'm literally black."

Lily: "You're brainwashed"

"????"

Ya this pretty much sums up Lily's TOH takes in a nutshell.

[batsplat]

you might have already talked abt this but I’m interested if you have any thoughts on the similarities & differences in Casey & Valentino’s early childhoods and families……I don’t know much abt Casey’s upbringing & the little I know about Valentino’s all makes me go “huh ok I kinda get it now” lol. Idk like I found out Jorge’s whole deal w his dad and I was like “OH OK you make perfect sense to me now” but I’m not there yet w the other two, yk?

so okay,, I do have an ask from forever back about marc and valentino's childhoods that I got extremely stuck at answering, and also an ask about jorge's father that I haven't even touched because like. sometimes you just do not feel up for that lol. and well it's just an area where I do generally try and be quite careful in how I discuss it... BUT this is casey stoner hot take round™ so I will give a reasonably succinct answer to this and not overthink it too much. basically: yeah, I do have thoughts, because casey's childhood does undeniably do a lot of the work in the 'oh okay that makes sense now' department. a lot of his career narrative, his struggles, his disillusionment with the sport... and yes, the way the valentino rivalry unfolded - a lot of it can be traced back quite a long way, to grievances he's been carrying around with him for years and years. I talked in this post about that podcast interview casey did this year, which included... well, a bit of a reckoning. talking as openly as he ever has about how being a rider wasn't ever really his dream - it's something that was decided for him. and that's our starting point... casey's eternally ambivalent relationship with being a rider, one that feels so violently different from valentino's

the big, big contrast between casey and valentino's respective journeys is pretty simple to sum up: it's the joy. valentino was having fun. casey wasn't. now, look - valentino as a child very obviously did not have perfect autonomy in making the choice to be a rider. it's always going to be more complicated than that; his father did obviously push him in that direction. but at the end of the day, it's not too controversial to say that valentino always enjoyed riding and always had fun racing. it's a joy he carried with him on his way to becoming a rider, one that remained a part of his competitive dna throughout his professional career. it's a joy that kept him racing for as long as he did. a childlike joy, in a way - valentino's lack of 'adult' seriousness, how it's been remarked upon that this brutal sport has never quite managed to wear him down. his peter pan persona, how he's the boy who won't ever grow up. and, y'know... valentino had the chance to actually be a kid. he got to have something vaguely resembling a proper childhood. makes sense, right - if you want to be a kid forever, it helps to have been one in the first place

there's a quote of his from 2009 I posted recently:

which, in the context of that interview - this question refers back to an earlier exchange about how casey wasn't a 'romantic' rider (still think that's an objectively pretty funny thing to say about your rival but that's neither here nor there). and, well, valentino's correct! sports has become considerably more professionalised over time. children are less and less likely to be able to afford any sort of life outside of it. which isn't just about reducing passion, right - it's also about not really giving these kids the chance to properly grow up, to become more rounded human beings who don't have to be the perfect little athlete 100% of the time. it's also a correct diagnosis of casey specifically, who certainly could never afford to see racing as a game. I'd recommend reading this autobiography excerpt, where casey tells you exactly that: racing wasn't about having fun for casey. he'd moved to the uk with his parents at fourteen years of age, at which point he essentially became his family's sole provider. his family depended on him not failing - and every opportunity threatened to be his last, his racing future and financial situation always desperately precarious. he was constantly fearful all of his family's sacrifices might have been for nothing. it's immense pressure to put any teenager under, regardless of how much you want to convince them that it's their dream rather than your own. if casey wasn't already an overly self-critical perfectionist before those years, he certainly was by the time he made it to motogp. he couldn't afford to be anything less than perfect. remember: the shape his anxiety took was by making him curl up in his motorhome, terrified of letting everyone down. wonder where that came from

is it any surprise, then, that while valentino feels like kids today take racing too seriously, casey thinks they don't take it seriously enough?

The system has changed: when you put too much pressure on a 20-year-old, he can react by closing up and becoming serious and sad. // Nowadays I see too many kids coming through behaving too relaxed, and too happy with what they have achieved already. I don’t want them to be miserable but they have to understand what’s at stake.

doesn't this make you want to scream. a little

and, look, there are similarities between valentino and casey in ways that will be true of many child prodigy athletes. valentino has spoken about how his father would not do anything with him that didn't involve motorcycle racing, casey likewise has more recently in that podcast said he doesn't think he was allowed to pursue any other interest. we can talk plenty about how the parents of athletes like to use their children to fulfil their own dreams - how their child's athletic performance seems to become the only aspect of their child they have any interest in. how so much of that parental relationship becomes distorted by the ceaseless quest to achieve results. it's there in both of their stories... and obviously they are hardly unique in that respect. there's perhaps a little bit of a divide - to what extent kids are aware of this dynamic and are uncomfortable with it, especially publicly. both casey and valentino are united in being somewhat openly critical of their parents without being completely estranged from them. casey got his parents to move back to australia when he was arguing with his father too frequently as a young rider; valentino has seemingly kept his father at a bit of a distance for years. they've never cut themselves off entirely - but there's a certain undeniable wariness there. a lack of conviction that their parents acted as parents should that they've been willing to hint at publicly, here and there

Our communication is mostly about motorbikes. He wasn't a good father, I mean... When I was with him, playing always meant riding motorbikes for him. // To be honest, I don’t know if I was allowed to have any other attraction to be honest. I think it was, you know, you’re going to be a bike rider from when I was a very very young age - and I’m not the only one to think that.

still, it does come back to the joy of it all. casey justifies his belief that racing isn't fun by talking about how he'd always known how high the stakes were... whereas for valentino, fun is an integral part of the experience. it's what he's there for. and beyond the racing itself, valentino always found his life as a rider considerably more joyous than casey did. which leads us to the other difference between the pair of them: casey's loneliness. valentino has spoken frequently about the importance of his childhood friend group, about having them travel with him and ground him and be there with him throughout - people who knew him before he became the valentino rossi, people he feels that he can fully rely on. he grew up as part of a community and has a strong sense of identification with not just his country but also his town... he's got deep ties to his place of origin and the people who live there, built up over a lot of time, and he draws a lot of strength from that. by contrast, casey grew up moving around a fair bit, unhappy at school and the victim of bullying - his only real friends, he says, were from the dirt track, since they were the only people he 'had anything in common with'. even those friendships don't feel particularly substantial, especially given how often he frames his childhood racing experiences around the hostility of his competitors (and especially their parents) in response to his peerless talent. his parents eventually home schooled him, inevitably further isolating him. then, as a teenager, he moved to the uk where he knew nobody, before moving to spain where he didn't even speak the language. he continued to have a strong sense of connection to australia, fuelled at least in part by homesickness - but it's also a connection to a country he hadn't lived in since age fourteen, a sense of belonging that's fundamentally less stable, less comforting. one that exists primarily in contrasting himself to all the europeans he surrounds with, as a way of making sense of his feelings of cultural alienation - which in truth are sometimes just plain alienation. the paddock cannot function as a home for casey either, and he is unwilling or unable to form substantial connections in that environment. in 2009, ten odd years after moving away from australia, he said his only friend in the paddock was his wife

and yes, it plays into that rivalry - inevitably so. casey and valentino are both somewhat alien to each other, fundamentally unknowable... and it does come back to how at odds they were in their approaches, in how they motivated themselves. casey finds the europeans and their flamboyant celebrations baffling. valentino cannot relate to casey's lack of romantic affection for the sport. casey is there to do a job. valentino is there to put on a show. casey does not think racing should be about having fun. valentino believe the fun is non-negotiable. casey loves almost nothing about being a rider, whereas valentino loves almost all of it

another thing. when I was writing this post about the similarities between casey and valentino, one aspect I talked about was how they can both be.... uh. suspicious characters, shall we say. paranoid, some might call them. conspiratorial, even. now, again, to some extent they do share this with a lot of other athletes, it's kind of part of the game. but, y'know, they do take it quite far - and there's quite a pleasing parallel between the pair of them where they've both come up with a conspiracy theory about one of valentino's lost titles. which leads us to quite a nice distinction between these two theories. not to brag, but I kinda feel I nailed one of the most important elements of their dynamic:

now, look. I deliberately did not do this,, but obviously if you really wanted to, you can do some pop psychology on valentino's approach to interpersonal attachment and relate that back to his relationship with his parents. I am not interested in doing that for various reasons, most of which the cia would not get out of me, but I'm aware it's an approach you can take. in any case, I do still think you can make quite a straightforward case for this distinction: one of them believes the world is fundamentally out to get them, one of them doesn't. one of them is waiting for the system to fuck them over, the other is wary of individuals who have gotten a little too close. both of them at times are exceedingly ready to read malice into the words and actions of those around them - and both of them can react rather dramatically to such a provocation. the shape their suspicion takes is a little bit different and a little bit the same... but it's central to understanding both of them, in a way that does set them apart from their competitors. they're the two aliens who are the most likely to read an agenda into anything and everything. they're the ones who are most likely to take note of slights, to accumulate grievances. the most likely to not forget when they have been wronged - and to take great pleasure in getting back at whoever has done them ill

in the end, it all comes back to just what an excellent foil for casey you have in valentino. in all the ways casey defines himself against valentino, in all the ways valentino challenges casey, in all the ways casey's issues with the sport are inextricably interwoven with the character of valentino rossi. casey hates so much of the sport in ways that are tied so closely to valentino; he hates a system that invariably would like nothing more than to see valentino succeed. but valentino also represents what casey cannot be - not just an entertainer, but someone completely at ease with their life as a rider. someone who finds joy in that life, who did not step away from it until he absolutely had to. valentino is there long before casey arrives and he is there long after casey leaves. valentino is an idol, an enemy, a mystery. more so than any other rider, valentino embodies an emotion that casey believed he simply could not afford to feel. valentino is the sport's joy - and casey was never there to have fun

[adyophene]

Hello ! I just have a little question, how do we start drawing ? I want go draw but idk how to start- any suggestion ? Or, if for starting it's better to do it with tutos, any tutorial to recommend ?

Have a great day !

Oooh, this is a tough question to answer! I suppose one the best pieces of advice I have is to figure out, before anything, what you are hoping to draw. What style, what tones, what media.

I have a feeling this might get long, so I will throw the rest under a readmore.

For me, when I started taking my art a little more seriously (I never went to art school or anything) I just focused on finding both tutorials on the fundamentals, and finding tutorials that focused on the aspects of art that interested me, which were animation and cartooning!

They go hand-in-hand, after all, and you'll find you end up honing in on the tutorials that coincide with your interests! IE- I ended up doing a lot of figure, and expression drawing because they would help me express emotion and movement better! I also spent so, so long just training my hand to be a bit more confident with drawing steady lines just because I loved the look of clean line-work!

So try to identify what your personal draw towards art is! By doing both something you like, as well as focusing the basics, I found that, at least in my personal experience, it put me in a positive feedback loop where I could keep seeing results in exactly the type of art I was interested in! And, once you start to feel confident, that is when you start adding in little bits of study from fields you might struggle with! A 90/10 split on what you're comfortable with and then what is new is usually a good way to go about it! Weirdly enough, though I don't watch him, I saw that the youtuber pewdiepie actually had a really good set of videos where he started from being a complete beginner and improving his art over 100 days. I believe its an absolutely great watch for a new artist, because he really does a great job in showing what a brand new journey into art can look like, and explains what he thinks each day. I think my favorite line was, 'after 24 days, I was finally having fun' because that can really sum up the new artist experience. It will absolutely be a slog at times, and can be really disheartening, but when you start to see progress, becomes so, SO fun.

Here is the link to the first vid, https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CMLEudGbxQk and his second https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MJDtQTTAogk

ALSO- this was just the first video that came to mind because I watched it recently. I would recommend finding other videos about people learning to draw, or doing 30-100-365 day challenge videos. As for my personal favorite channels for art tutorials (though keep in mind, I haven't watched them in a few years ;-;, I need to study again);

There were a number of others that I wish I could link as well, but I am struggling to remember them. I hope any of that is helpful. My own art journey has been very long, and non linear, and I have to say, I'm not even satisfied with my own art! Its a endless mountain to climb, but it is so worth it to do! And lastly, I want to say thank you so much for sending this ask, you've made me dig back in to artists I used to study, and made me want to really focus back in on my own improvement!

[gingergofastboatsmojito]

The Pacino Variant

Since I found out that JAW got inspiration from Al Pacino to play some of Carmy's layers I immediately started thinking about Frankie and Johnny's dynamic and how it was all so messy in their relationship before it got to the good part. Granted, JAW was not inspired by Johnny, but by a different role Al Pacino played, but still. It got me thinking about how this very Austenian love story, of course, very realistic and bittersweet had certain points in common with Sydcarmy and once I started I just couldn't stop drawing parallels between the sydcarmy dynamic and the frankjohnny one because F&J was a very atypical comedy, just like The Bear and that's why many viewers now don't even understand how The Bear is a comedy, which it is, of course: A noir one. Back then, something similar kinda happened with Frankie & Johnny, it flopped as a rom-com but it became a cult movie and was critically acclaimed.

Here's a clip:

Context: they met while working together at a diner.

The main characters were described as: "lonely little people struggling to find love."

Rolling Stone's review back then read the following:

"Somehow Mr. Marshall, Mr. McNally, and their superb leading actors are able to retain the intimacy of their material. They also retain the story's fundamental wariness about romance, even when everything about Ms. Pfeiffer and Mr. Pacino has the audience wondering why they don't simply fall into each other's arms."

See? Sounds very Sydcarmy to me, building intimacy while NOT dating, Frankie (Michelle Pfeiffer) is all business-no love, a tough cookie, she's been burnt before so she doesn't let any new guy into her life

and Johnny has to do the hard work to convince her (which Carm is not doing bc he rather denies his own feelings and deflects onto Claire as both this amazing meta by @Chefkids and my own humble opinion point out). In Johnny's case, there's no Claire but there is a rather complicated past that also conditions his choices and Frankie doesn't make it any easier on him, etc.

So my point is that the whole Sydcarmy back and forth before it actually happens, which I already mentioned here I think is gonna be more of a cliffhanger kinda thing bc before we get to that part they need to be at each other's throats, Carmy's relationship with C has to crash and burn, The Bear needs to win a bunch of awards and hopefully get out of debt, which will be S3's main focus, along with Nat's baby that's gonna be a total game changer in terms of the Berzatto family's dynamic, etc... when all of those boxes are checked ✅✅✅ then we will venture into Sydcarmy territory on Storer's terms. And I can't help but wonder if that transition from friends to lovers is gonna be kinda like F&J's, I think it might, because it sounds Storer-friendly. I'm not talking about the endgame per se, just the transition.

Would love to know what you all think about this theory.

If you haven't seen the movie and now feel curious about it, here's a playlist, and those short clips pretty much sum it all up.

❤️‍🔥

[sunkissedliterarylightofchrist]

so do you remember the idea I had that I'm kinda scared to write (now I'm less scared and doing some planning) if not totally fine (here's a link to the post ) I was wonder if you thought these

struggles would fit with my message of side characters are struggling with their sense of identity and the main character helps them find it so basically do you think these struggles match up with struggling with your sense of identity I hope this makes sense

Yes, I think all of these work really well with the concept of identity!

The definition of identity is the fact of being who or what a person or thing is, right? And that can be composed of both little and big things.

If someone asked me, 'What defines you?' or 'What's your identity?' or 'What do you find worth in?' or something along those lines, my gut-response reaction would to say Jesus and that I'm a Christian. Because that's who I am, that's where my worth comes from, that statement sums up almost everything you need to know about me as a person.

That's the 'big thing'. The 'main one'. And the most important one. My identity is found in Christ.

(Not every story has to be 'Christian' or only have Christan characters/main characters. A lot of incredible Christian authors don't have any 'Christian characters' in their stories. I'm just using this as an example. [also sidenote but while I think Christian authors don't have to have the main focus of their works to be religion, they should use their craft to reflect Christian morals. You don't expressly have to say Jesus' name in order to point to him with the good, beautiful, and true that you write.])

But also a bunch of smaller, less-important things define me. (Although I don't stake much of my identity on them per say, because that's then idolatry. If the thing/concept/whatever was taken from me tommorow I would still be me, just without that smaller thing that might make up me.) If someone asked me to name 5 things that made up my identity I would say Christ, my family, my life circumstances/experiences, my ambitious pursuits in academia and wanting to make the world a better place, and my creativity. And those are umbrella categories that a lot could fit under, I could get far more specific.

If a total stranger who I have never known in my life saw this post and read those five things, they would have a pretty good idea of who I am, even if those things I listed don't make up the 'whole' of me. Because we as humans are complex creatures.

The same thing can be done with characters. Since your story is about identity, you should take each character and give them one Big Thing that defines them. And you can use that as a base to branch out into a bunch of smaller things that also make up who they are. (Again, doesn't have to be Christ if your story isn't about religion- and with where the story starts it can be a terrible thing that defines them.)

And then make them struggle with it. All those things you listed are great ways to make someone question their identity. And then you can do two things with that- A) Have their identity and who they are change. B) Have them struggle and shift away from their identity, realize their mistake, and return back to it, even stronger than before.

Lemme play this out for you.

Let's say I have a character named Robbie. At the start of the story, Robbie is defined by his need to be successful at baseball. His entire life is built around it. He's being doing it since he was old enough to pick up a bat and wear a glove. Throughout all of elementary and middle school, he's been the best of the team and has worked really hard to get good. He wants to get into the MLB! Pretty awesome dream, right? And Robbie has done everything he was supposed to and more to do it.

But then in high school he's having a big game where there will be scouts to try and recruit to teams, and he gets injured. Suddenly, his identity is shattered. His legs are broken, he'll be in a wheelchair for months, so how is he supposed to get into the MLB? He's heartbroken as his dream shatters and his identity turns out not to be so strong after all. Who is he without his dream?

But then while he's injured, while he can't play baseball and his struggling with who is is without it, he realizes something. It wasn't being successful or making his parents and teachers proud of him that made him happy. That was nice, but maybe that wasn't the point of baseball. It was helping teach his classmates and the kids younger than him baseball. It was helping them succeed and getting good at the sport that brought purpose to the game.

So Robbie's character arc goes from I Need To Be Successful At Baseball To Have Purpose -> I Need To Teach Others How To Play Baseball Rather Than Try To Only Focus On Myself. His identity shifts because what he started out with wasn't strong in the first place. He wasn't being selfish really, Robbie is actually a pretty humble guy, but that's all he cared about. Every desicion that he made was based off of 'Will this make me successful at baseball?' But now he's focused on helping others even when it costs him, and that's a whole lot more important. And that would be the defining theme of my story.

See what I did there? I took one thing and expanded it. I could keep expanding Robbie's story here with other characters, plot points, what's influencing him, other smaller things that define him that either shift in the story too or get even stronger. Robbie's story here isn't perfect, not yet. There are a lot of gaps and quite a few things that don't make much sense yet. But it's a place to start. You've gotta have a basis of what a character's identity is and what it means and if it's good or not before you can change it.

That's how I would do it.

[chronically-ghosted]

Second Base.

rating: 18+

pairing: max phillips x f!reader

word count: 3712

summary: you try out second base; hand stuff only, but it changes things between you two, as much as you don't want it to.

warnings/tags: cute little outfits designed to drive max nuts, hand jobs (m and f receiving), more blood, fangs, one emotionally unavailable vampire

a/n: this contains one of my favorite lines i've ever written!

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Second base.

Because you aren’t actual sadists or masochists, after the first bite, your sex life with Max went back to normal. Well, as normal as sex with an immortal creature of the night ever was in the first place. Okay – as normal as sex with an immortal creature of the night who is Max Phillips ever was in the first place. Which is to say, often, hard, and loud. It had been weeks since you’d seen that worried look of consternation, that sweet vulnerability he expressed, as if feeding on you might be the thing that kills you and not being railed against your couch for the better part of an entire day. Sometimes you wished he had much respect for your ability to walk upright as he did your jugular vein. 

On some level, you were aware that his recent overexuberance was in part due to that vulnerability. As if you might lift the curtain and find that the man behind it all might leave you wanting. Truly a frat boy at heart, Max struggled to express anything that couldn’t be summed up with the three “ings” – licking, sucking, and fucking, obviously – but now, he had been exposed as someone capable of those deeper feelings, as if he had been the one to split open a vein for you. And despite the heavenly glow you indulged in after the first bite, you really weren’t quite sure how you felt about it all. You hadn’t started dating Max with any illusions about who exactly he is. In fact, you might have started fucking him in the first place because it seemed wildly out of character that he or you would get attached at all – to anyone or anything. The dating thing just sort of happened, when you both came to the same conclusion at roughly the same time: no one else was really doing it for you, so why not? So what if you only directly referred to each other as boyfriend and girlfriend in the privacy of your own apartment, or his? So what if half of the office was entirely clueless about your relationship and the other half was actively placing “secret” bets about how long you two had been fucking? Annoyingly, Tim had been the one to be almost right: “six months ago, I’m telling you, man. That’s when he stopped eating secretaries and she got so much nicer.”

Technically, he stopped eating secretaries about a month into your relationship, and what Tim accidentally overheard was not him “eating” a “secretary”, but you weren’t about to correct him. But Max found it all hilarious: “he’s right, you’re so much nicer when that pussy has been taken care of. But I like it when you’re mean.” 

You actively choose not to think about what he meant by a “deep emotional connection” last time.

Fine, Phillips, I’ll show you how mean I can be.

“Nope, no, uh uh.” 

You put your hand just over the frilly blue lace on your hip. “I’m sorry, I don’t see the problem.” 

It had been about a month since first base and while Max had gotten notably more relaxed around you seeing him eat – he now occasionally walked around your apartment with his food in an opaque smoothie tumbler with a straw – he was still very strict about moving onto second base. 

Which, if left up to him, meant you’d be wearing a straight jacket and thick flannel pajamas. 

“Max, if we’re ever going to do this thing for real, you’re going to have to get used to seeing me naked. I’m not letting you fuck me and bite me while I’m in riot gear.”

“Okay, but, baby,” he whines and he can’t help himself from rubbing the satin bow above your crotch between his fingers. “You look like a birthday cake.” 

Is the baby blue lingerie with a strapless bra that catches around your biceps with white lace a bit overboard? Yes. But last time was ridiculous.

Max frowns, his visible pout morphing into something subtly dangerous as he realizes he can unpeel your bra with a string in the back. “Can’t I just fuck you normally in this and then we’ll try again later?”

You swat his hand away as it sneaks across your ribs. 

“No.” 

“You know, if I wasn’t already dead, I’d think you’re trying to kill me.” Smirking, he drops his hands down to your waist and, not so subtly, curves them around the mold of your ass. Distractedly, he slips one finger under the seam of your panties. You press your hands against his chest and blink up at him coyly. 

“Whatever gave you that impression.” 

He shakes his head, squeezing your ass once. “And I’m supposed to be the soulless demon with a heart of darkness.” 

“So you’ll do this?” 

With a sigh and his eyebrow jumping, he nods. “Yeah. Fine. Go get on the bed.”

Trying desperately not to squeal, you tear away from his arms and all but run and leap on top of the white towel. Max slips out of his shoes, and starts unbuttoning his shirt. You bite your lip, nerves humming in anticipation, as you sit up on your knees to watch him. To your enormous dismay, no matter how hard you worked, no matter how much spit or cum you used, you could not make him purr again. You’d had wet dreams on the idea alone of putting your head against his chest as he vibrated but he swore it was involuntary. “And,” he added as a way to soothe your ego, “I’m pretty sure it can only happen when I’m feeding.”

“Does it happen every time? Like with blood bags or back when you hunted people?”

“No,” was all he said about that.

Max slips his shirt off over his shoulders and goes to work unbuttoning his pants. When they slide off his hips, you frown. 

“The boxers with the hole in the waist? Ooh, baby, I’m so turned on when you make such an effort.” 

He rolls his eyes as he climbs in next to you. “Look, I didn’t think you’d be seeing my underwear and I need to do laundry.”

“You didn’t think I’d see your underwear in a situation where we’re going to specifically jerk each other off?”

Attempting some version of contrite, Max’s gaze falls from your face to your throat, to your clavicle, to your tits, pillowed up for him beneath the blue lace. He leans in as if pulled by magnets. 

“I’m sorry if I thought we’d both be a little more preoccupied.” 

His broad palm smooths across your thigh, around your hips, to just above your tailbone, his nose drawing indistinct lines from your shoulder to your ear. You sort of hate how quickly he can make you not irritated with him. You shift to take him into the cradle of your thighs, when he winds your panties up in his fingers and tugs. The gossamer material tightens just over the seam of your pussy, teasing your clit, you choke. That heated, teasing Max Phillips smirk spreads like hot butter across his lips. 

“What are the rules again?”

“Max,” you whine as you drag your nails over his chest and up his shoulders. But he hesitates, his hand knotting your underwear in his fist. One move and it’ll rub against you again.

“I’ll stop,” he murmurs in a half-sing-song voice. You huff.

“Silver. Bad touch, on your skin. Lightheaded or dizzy, I use the safeword. And,” you sigh. He’s so painfully handsome sometimes it hurts. He’d set out candles again, as if he needed any help in his seduction of you and he just sort of glows. You don’t know if it’s your anticipation or some vampire illusion, but every line on him is blurred. Soft, as if he doesn’t have your pleasure literally in his hands. There it comes again, that small bit of light in his eyes, the emergence of the early morning sun over the horizon. The way he looks at you makes your chest heavy. “And . . . only hand stuff,” you grumble. 

He chuckles, pouting at you in faux-sympathy as he reaches out, other hand wrapping around the back of your neck. “Only hand stuff, she’s so sad about it,” he whimpers into your cheek with a high, mocking voice. 

Your fingers dig into the skin on his chest, daring to hold him away as he goes for your mouth. “I swear to god, Max –,”

In one single fluid motion, he pushes on your tailbone, and swings your hips forward as he tackles your mouth with his own, effectively yanking you under him. You huff in surprise, before pulling away to find menace and glee in his eyes. Grins again as he nips with flat teeth on the curve of your neck. 

He plants wet, hot kisses across your chest, heat blooms against your ribs and tunnels down between your legs, as he tongues the softer places along the hollow of your throat, then up the other side of your throat, teasing your earlobe. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathes, “that was mean. What can I do to make it up to you?” 

Pressing your chest up against his, knowing he can feel the squish of your tits, you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him towards you. His hard cock rubs up against your seam and he lets loose with a muffled groan into your mouth. You roll your hips once with him between you and he turns his head to your jaw, as you both pant at the sensation. 

“You know exactly what I want.” 

His teeth graze you gently. This is an exercise in restraint for you as much as it is him. Given any other night, you’d have his pants off by now, on his back, or behind you, but you refrain. You can’t squeeze him like you want to and that only frustrates you more, makes you heated and ruffled, makes you want more of his skin on you, around you, as if he could smother you. You want to merge your bodies. Your knees dig into his ribs.

He whispers something, too low and fast for you to catch it, but it ends broken and uneasy as if you’re touching something delicate within him. Bending back with one hand, Max reaches between your legs and cups you, one finger barely pressing the wet material back inside you. 

“Was this waiting for me under all those layers?” You nod as he pushes deeper, your mouth dropping open. He kisses your chin, before tucking his head under your jaw again. “No wonder you were burning up.” 

He inhales as if his face was pressed right up against your cunt, two fingers rubbing up and down over that sodden material. It scraps against your clit and it burns. “I could eat you. Just like this.”

“Max, c’mon–,”

“I know, baby, I know.” 

Smearing that pink little bow with the smell of you, he dips his hand under the line of your underwear, past your damp curls, and soothes your overheated sex by filling it with two thick fingers. You arch, brow furrowing, mouth open, fingers clamping down around his shoulders, arousal crawling up your spine, higher and higher the deeper he goes. Max likes the build up, the tease, it’s why his thumb only hovers above your clit, the heat doing half the work for him, as he pumps his fingers in and out of you, the wet squelching almost embarrassing. Behind his hand, his hips swing in time. He groans, deep, into your ear, breathless. 

“Could come like this, baby, could come right like this.” 

The bend of his cock bumps the back of his hand as he thrusts against nothing. You hitch your pelvis up, opening wider, pussy easier within reach, and you forgo any teasing for him, hand sliding right past his boxers, molding your grip around him. He’s hot and leaking all over your fingers. 

“‘Ngh . . . shit, baby.” The arm holding him up shakes. You want to lick the salty precum but there has to be a rule about that, right? If you aren’t so desperate for that final fuck, you would have been a bit more careless. His fingers inside you press up into the places only he knows can send you into oblivion, as if grateful for tearing him apart. His wrist flicks quicker, faster into you, fingers plunging deeper, up to the knuckles, bouncing you as if you were on his cock. You match his speed with your own hand and Max hums, a dark sound verging on distressed. 

You bite your bottom lip, eyes drooping, the rocking motion scraping against your pleasure again and again, like a match scratching against the box one stroke at a time. “Maaax –,” He adds a third finger and you keen, high-pitched and desperate, the width stretching you out for a cock he won’t let you have. You grind against his fingers, the bounce knocking loose every sane thought in your head. 

Opening your eyes, you realize he’s been staring at your tits this whole time. His chest warm and glowing with sweat, his eyes track every bounce and jiggle, the cups of your bra putting them more on display than if you held them up yourself. 

“Where do you want it, darling?” His voice is strained, softer than it should be with your cunt sucking up his fingers. 

Max Phillips doesn’t do cutesy nicknames. Not during sex, not ever. Your his slut. His monsterfucker. Not – 

Your already unspooling mind struggles to grasp at darling before it slips away. 

His cock is throbbing against the palm of your hand. If you could see it, it would be flushed red, the vein at the base protruding. You pump him faster and his hips stutter. He’s so close and so are you. 

But he’s not talking about that. 

“On my tit, Max. Bite me on my tit.” 

With a groan that is all growl, all tension and feral hunger, his arm collapses and he sinks his weight against you. He manages to get his hand out, but yours is still trapped there, pinned between your tender cunt and his painfully hard cock. You writhe. “Max–,” 

His kiss against your lips is a starving sort of one, one that steals the breath from your lungs, wiping any lingering ache temporarily from your body. He licks the inside of your mouth, swallowing the moan that races from your throat into his. It’s all need, desire, a blistering familiarity that you didn’t realize existed between you two. He’s trying to say something with this kiss. 

He doesn’t give you long to read into it, as he pulls back, sinking more into his knees as he mouths the skin under your neck, above your clavicle bone, and in between the valley of your tits. His weight shifts off you, enough to pull your hand out. You arch, pushing your chest deeper into his mouth, using the back of his neck to pull you higher, he groans and licks, and you yank the tie of your bra behind your back. 

“Max, you can –,”

His hand claws at your cups, mouth consuming yours again, the ropes almost stinging your back as they are ripped so fast across your heated skin. Before you lie flat, his hand cups under you, fingers pressing into where the threads burned and forcing you to maintain that bend in your spine. 

The moment is coming. You can feel it. It’s different from a rising orgasm, or the first time he ever sucked your nipple into his mouth. Your lizard brain is sending off warning flares, but you ignore it once again. Those flares arc and bend, your arousal now fire hot. 

His tongue pressed flat, Max draws a long stripe of spit from under your breast, over the weight of it, and up your nipple, where he swirls it between his teeth. Whether Max Phillips was an ass or tits man depended on the day of the week, or whatever was blowing in the air, but he laved attention onto yours like they were the first pair he’d ever seen in his life. The skin on your other breast shines from where his fingers mold around it, smearing your wet juices all over your pebbled skin. He switches over and laps up that smell off you. 

He’s wavering, caught between drawing it out and doing it so instantaneously he might black out and miss the whole thing. Your heart racing, skin almost too sensitive, you feel like you might shudder apart.

“Max, please –,”

He chooses the second approach. 

Without warning, his fangs spring out and he latches onto the skin near the valley of your chest on your right breast. 

You yelp in surprise, pain and pleasure zigzagging like rough scissors from his bite out through the rest of your body.

Okay, that hurts. 

You gasp, bucking, yanking on his hair. “Baby, baby, gentler, be gentle–,”

He swallows and the ache lessens. Hot blood pools out of the spot where his fangs punctured you. It runs warm then cold, teasing like a feather, as it rolls down your stomach. It’s not a lot, but it's more than last time. It stains his chest too.

Slowly, that same sort of miraculous fog sinks down into your bones. The grip on his hair eases, softens, and soon you are petting him against you.

You swear you feel his fangs scrape your heart. 

“That’s good, Max, that’s so good.” Your eyes roll lazily in your head and you nuzzle his hair. “God, how does this feel so good?” 

As though determined to remind you he is more than just fangs, his hand pulls away from the mattress and slides back between your legs. You feel only one finger brush against your folds through your underwear – you’re almost disappointed, go back to using three, Max –

His finger plunges deep, deep inside of you, and you gasp, feet scrambling against the towel, as a swell of pleasure almost smothers you in an overwhelming wave. You nearly choke from the force of it. You were so overly sensitive but the gooey haze didn’t let you realize it until it was too late. You come hard, harder than you thought possible, seeing eons of galaxies and stars behind your eyes, with just one of his fingers inside you and his thumb distractedly circling your clit. 

He feels you gush around his hand, wetting his wrist, and with a moan you can feel in your ribs, he spills in his boxers, the spend running down his thigh and smearing on yours. 

Your entire body goes slack, as if someone had made all your bones disappear. His hips jerk slightly as if his orgasm is still trying to wring him dry before he stills and plucks his head from your chest, unplugging his fangs from the holes he made.

Blood immediately bubbles up from the wound and without his fangs there, it spills freely and violently over your tits, your ribs. The whiplash between your orgasmic high and a full-body weakness sends hot nausea swooping into your stomach and the room spins.

“M-m-ax,” you murmur, barely opening your mouth, your voice weak and thick as if stuffed with cotton balls. 

“Fuck, sorry –,” you can’t quite see him clearly as he moves and suddenly there’s a warmth over your chest, comforting and heavy. The blood trickles to a stop and you breathe deeply. The darkness of the room stabilizes as you fully open your eyes. The room spins but this time pleasantly. 

“Hmm, whoo, wow, ah, okay . . .”

You don’t realize he’s gotten off the bed until the mattress sags again and he’s cleaning you up with cold cotton balls. 

“So, I’m going to take that mindless babbling as a good thing.” He smiles gently, but he’s holding something back. He keeps his head low like he doesn’t want you to see his face.  

You wiggle your shoulders, as he delicately wipes you down. “What, you don’t wanna clean me up with your tongue? And why do you even use disinfectant – there’s no open wound.” You poke him in the shoulder with your toe. “And you didn’t even purr that time! I demand a refund!”

“Next time, okay?” 

You frown. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing. Just let me–,” 

You sit up, the dried blood pinching your skin, and he pulls away. “Max, what is it?” 

He pulls away so much, he’s on his feet by the dresser before you can touch him, the back of his arm tearing at his mouth to wipe it clean. Max is a lot of things but cold when you need aftercare is not one of them. 

“It’s nothing.” The line of his shoulders is taught, tense. But he cracks his neck and takes the Gatorade from the dresser. He finally sits back down on the bed in front of you, offering the bottle to you. You take it, unease mounting, your fingers brush his, but this time he doesn’t retreat. Instead, gently, his fingertips ghost over your wrist, down the fine hairs on your arm, drop from your elbow and settle delicately on the blue material covering the crease of your hip. Where your blood had pooled, wet, and stained the blue to a deep magenta. 

“I ruined your pretty underwear,” he says softly, forlorn. 

You move closer to him, your knee touching his hip, but you refrain from seeking out the warmth of his hands. 

“Max, I can get new ones, I don’t care about that. Please, talk to me. Did I do something wrong? Did I push you too far?”

His fingers flex around the towel, now also appropriately ruined. He shakes his head, more firmly this time. He snags his shirt off the floor, over his head, then moves towards the bedroom door.

“I don’t wanna talk about it. I’m sticky. I’m gonna take a shower. You wanna come?”

The invitation, it’s something, an encouragement you genuinely feared he might not give. Maybe it’s not you he wants to part from. 

You didn’t enter into this for the emotional connection and neither did he. You have to remember that.

“Y-yeah. Of course.”

He invited you. He still wants you around. 

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[minimorgana]

Rambling about Ace Hardy:

To me, Ace saying "I believe in being true to yourself, even at the risk of being misunderstood" is one of his most character defining lines in the series. It's cool to think about this quote after finishing the series and knowing everything we do about Ace.

Even though at the point of him saying this we haven't seen the full extent of the conflict with his dad, in retrospect, we can understand that Ace is likely thinking about his dad in some sense when saying this. Yes, he is saying this to Laura and in response about leaving Horseshoe Bay, but it extends to so many aspects of his life and character.

Ace is well aware that his dad doesn't understand or respect where he currently is in life, but he doesn't try to change himself to make his dad understand him. No matter how much he wants his dad's approval, he doesn't compromise who he is. He knows that will only lead to him living a life that isn't really his. What his dad sees as laziness is Ace having not found his purpose and not wanting to force himself into a box before knowing if he will fit.

Ace values being true to himself, and he values this trait in the people he surrounds himself with. This is at the heart of the conflict between him and Nancy in season 2, and I think it might give some perspective to why he struggled to find a solid group of friends before the Drew Crew.

We all know that high school is a difficult time for self-identity and finding yourself, and this has been affirmed through Nancy's character and her high school friends. So I think Ace struggled to make meaningful friendships with people who weren't necessarily being true to themselves (speaking from experience, this is something I struggled with in high school, and it was aggravated by questioning my own sense of self and hiding parts of my identity).

But for the most part, once the layers of secrecy at the beginning of season 1 are removed, I think Ace realizes that this group of people try their hardest to be true to themselves, despite some slip ups.

Nancy could easily leave the mystery solving to the police and stay out of trouble, but she values truth and justice, and she knows it is her responsibility to find those things. Bess values family, whether it is biological or found, and she strives to do right by the people she loves, even if it costs her. George has been known as the town screw up but for the most part, she ignores the labels others put on her and works hard to build a life for herself and her sisters. She knows she is more than their labels for her. Nick is driven by his desire to help and protect people. We see him stay true to himself most clearly when he tells his mom he's staying in Horseshoe Bay, that he has a purpose in this town and he's been planted there for a reason.

That was a long winded way of saying that Ace has finally found people who try their hardest to push away the opinions of other people and stay true to themselves.

For a moment, I was thinking about this quote in line with him telling Nancy he isn't lacking anymore after getting his apartment and starting to work at the morgue. Because if this is the code he lives by, then why would he do these things just for someone else's approval? But then I realized that he isn't. He's had an interest in medical and forensic examination since season 1 when helping examine Lucy's bones. And I think he's been ready to move out of his parents house for a while. He just needed a push to do those things and his insecurities tell him that he has to prove to Nancy that he is good enough for her. But the things he chose to do are still true to who he is.

So yeah, I really just love this quote and think it sums up who Ace is and we can see it reflected in everything he does throughout the series, even up to the very end.

P.S. Another good example of him living by this code is when he visits Mr. D and tries to understand why he made the choice he did. Part of him knows that if Nancy ever found out, she wouldn't be happy about him befriending her dad while she is very mad at him. But he does it anyways, even at the risk of being misunderstood. Because to him, he's doing what is right.

[firsttarotreader]

Thank you. ☺️ But I think he needs validation so badly that if someone gives him that attention and validation he craves, he won’t care much about them being questionable or not.

Hello! I’m new to this blog but I found your response to this anon ask very interesting. I too can perceive his need for validation and attention, as well as the fact he seems to dislike being alone and always needs someone nearby. Maybe this was asked/answered before, but why do you think he craves so much attention and validation to the point of not caring about having questionable people around! Is it abandonment issues? Is there a way to ask cards for this (im a newb with tarot, dont know how it works 🙈)

Hiya! I asked the cards about why he might possibly need validation so badly. The first pull was the 9 of Swords reversed, 6 of Swords and 4 of Coins.

9 of Swords reversed means he could feel intense anxiety, a lot of insecurity and worries to the point where it might be difficult to sleep or cause nightmares. Feeling like having some type of attention and validation from people may be a way to reduce some of his anxiety. 6 of Swords points to him needing this support to go through troubled waters and finally be able to relax for a bit, leave all that struggle and stress behind. 4 of Coins shows him clinging to what he has achieved, what he’s got, holding it tightly, close to his chest. He is so scared of losing what he has, what he worked so hard to get, to the point of being a bit selfish.

The second pull was the 4 of Wands reversed, 8 of Swords reversed and 4 of Swords. 4 of Wands reversed means he might feel unstable, lacking any roots or support, sometimes even feeling unwelcome and conflicted. 8 of Swords reversed could be pointing to him feeling so restricted and paralyzed, with his hands tied, trapped in his own feelings of insecurity, BUT having the attention and validation might help him get rid of these chains for a bit, untie his hands and make him not feel so hopeless. The 4 of Swords shows him feeling so overwhelmed and tired, physically and emotionally, that he needs to rest and relax, take some time to retreat, for self-protection and recuperation. Having that support with the validation could help him stop and get that rest.

The card to sum it up was the 7 of Swords reversed. Well, he might feel like a fraud, like an imposter in an imposter syndrome, like he doesn’t deserve what he is getting, he is just “sneaking away with it.

I would say, from these cards, it all comes down to his intense anxiety, fear of loss and imposter syndrome.

[theseshipsshallsail]

Happy 3 year Call Me-Versary to me 🍑

Prequel to the journal fics, so can be read as a stand-alone.

Heaven, he’s found, exists within in a precocious brat with a penchant for classical music and obscure French novels, and Oliver can’t help smiling as he props his chin in his palm, the tips of two fingers tracing reverently over the rose-bud pout of Elio’s lower lip. 

A lip his malakh then bites; a too-knowing trait that drives Oliver half-wild with wanting each time he does it.

Breathless, he continues his explorations to the freckled constellation behind his left ear. Sweeps the pad of his thumb along the smooth curve of Elio’s jaw. It’s a familiar journey that somehow still feels like a discovery, and Oliver commits the details of Elio’s face to memory as he drops a kiss to his bobbing Adam’s apple, earning a heart-felt moan when wandering digits slide southwards to the waistband of his bathing suit.

Oliver’s bathing suit, technically, and the possessive thrill of seeing Elio in his clothes has yet to fade.

The cords at his naval are tied loosely, and recent experience shows that one sharp tug will bring them to Elio’s knees, exposing his secrets and eager manhood alike. That’s not what Oliver craves right now, though - flanked by gnarled olive trees and stunted pines - and the lean grooves of Elio’s stomach tense as he picks at the knot slowly. 

Already, his erection strains beneath the yellow cotton, and Oliver knows he’s just aching to be free of the netted material. But patience is a virtue, or so they say, and still he takes his time. Stretching out Elio’s desire and need. Feeding it. Rewarding him with a second kiss to his nipple when slender fingers wrap around his wrist, flexing repeatedly in silent entreaty.

“Look at you,” Oliver murmurs, angling up to sample that tortuous bottom lip for himself.

The way it plumps and swells in his mouth holds him in thrall, and Oliver nibbles playfully as he squeezes the jut of Elio’s hip once, twice, three times deliberately. His cheeks ache from an unstoppable grin. Blood thrums at his temple. Happiness spreads through every corner of his being, and it’s only when Elio’s breathing picks up that he finally, finally, eases the bunched material from his pearling crown.

“What about me?” Elio asks belatedly - squirming to kick the borrowed trunks from his ankles - and Oliver allows it, struggling to focus with so much beauty laid sprawled in a canvas of aster and cornflowers.

He’s hard himself - uncomfortably so - but his focus is otherwise engaged as it flicks from Elio’s wiry forearms to his heaving chest. His tapered waist to the dark curls at his groin. Monet himself could paint no better masterpiece, and put together the sum of his parts leaves Oliver desperate for more. 

“Sometimes,” he murmurs, removing a leaf that’s gotten snagged in Elio’s hair. “...I can’t help thinking I wasn’t real until I met you.”

Elio hums. Soft and playful. “That’s funny,” he says, draping his arms around his neck. “Sometimes I think I dreamed you into life.”

There’s a quiet moment of understanding. Gentle as the ocean waves lapping the cliff’s edge below. They might be a secret to the rest of the world, but the pair of them know what they mean to one another, and Oliver’s eyes burn with unsatisfied tears as he slips a still-clothed thigh between Elio’s, pinning him down as the steady push-pull of stimulation drives them ever higher. 

Elio goes immediately pliant - content like always to be naked before him - and Oliver pins his wrists above his head, wondering if love always feels so overwhelming. So electric. So gut-wrenchingly painful. There will never be enough time to slake his longing, and loath as he is to admit it, Oliver’s already preparing for the day he can’t quite recall the sound of Elio’s pleasure. 

The specific point on his side that makes him giggle and squirm. 

The sense of utter completion he’s discovered nowhere save the sanctuary of his arms.

He knows who he’s supposed to be. Who he needs to be. And despite his deepest wishes Elio Perlman will soon be lost to the relentless march of time. The burden of family responsibility is Oliver’s only option, and in following the path of least resistance he must consign his first love - his forever love - to some tchotchke-ridden corner of his consciousness.  

A sun-bleached chapter of freedom and candour, when if he were just a little braver, it could be an entire book.

[owlsandwich]

WIP Questionnaire

Thanks so much @verba-writing for tagging me in this!

I wasn't sure which of my 2 WIPs I should answer for, so I'm just going to do them both :P

I'll tag @pb-dot @teacupsandstarlight @eccaiia @stits @ahungeringknife @mundanemoongirl and leave an open tag (please jump in! This one is a lot of fun and I want to read about other's WIPs!)

The Mechanics of Magic:

1. What was the first part of your wip that you created?

A handwritten draft of what eventuall became chapter 3, written back in 2010

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

I'm not sure about a theme song, but I wrote most of Mechanics while listening to Portugal The Man, so something by them!

3. Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why?

Oliver is my favourite character - I love how stressed he is, under the weight of his responsibilies, and I put a lot of myself into him. The character I love the most though might well be Morgan. He really sums up that question of what if a good person did something terrible? What is enough to earn redemption? I don't know if there is a clear answer on whether he deserves happiness, but I believe that he does, and because of that, maybe I can believe it for myself as well.

4. What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?

I'm not actually sure! My stories aren't particuarly marketable.

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?

Defining the genre. I have been told that it's not possible to create a new genre, but Mechanics doesn't appear to fit into any existing fantasy sub-genre.

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

I wish there were more! Roy has a betta fish named Mr Shinysides (named after my friend's fish).

7. How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

The word is very similar to the UK in the 00s, tech-wise, so usually cars and trains, though I think they might have air travel as well.

8. What part of your wip are you working on rn?

Going through all the changes the editor made and signing off each chapter for the final edition.

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?

Tropes... maybe found family? I love how they all come together, despite being from very different walks of life. I have canonly autistic characters as well, though even the ones that I didn't intend to be autistic, probably are (it's hard to make characters that don't share some of my fundamental way of thinking).

10. What are your hopes for your wip?

I hope it can find the people who need it, and that they might love these characters as much as I do.

Burning The Darkness:

1. What was the first part of your wip that you created?

I imagined chapter 1 a month or so before I wrote it down, and played with the scene over and over in my mind. I have a diary note somewhere musing on whether I should actually write it.

2. If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

Surely it would have to be Darkness At The Heart Of My Love - The Ghost song that inspired it!

3. Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why?

I love Julian. His character allowed me to explore so many of my own feelings about being raised in someone's image, purged of kindness and softness, and the conditional love that comes with being a golden child (though I'd say he got more of that than I did). I smile when people say they dislike him.

4. What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?

Again, I am not sure! People who like queer paranormal romance, but with layers of metaphor? This really is a story about discovering you are queer, even though it's about vampires.

Maybe Buffy fans!

5. What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?

Overcoming the shame of having written a romance. It being paranormal with a bit of smut in it, makes me feel like people will think less of me and that no one will take the deeper themes seriously.

6. Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

There is a blackbird singing in one scene, but again I need to add more animals into my work!

7. How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

Vampires are fast walkers, so they mostly just run around the place. Darkness is set in basically Eastbourne or Brighton though, so they have all the usual transport methods.

8. What part of your wip are you working on rn?

Wondering what I should do with it really! I need to edit out the smutty scene in chapter 2, if I ever want to self publish it.

9. What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?

There's a lovely bit of enemies to lovers in there I think. Also Oren's arc is basically a direct metaphor for me realising I was trans and starting testosterone, so I'd love if other trans guys read it and related.

10. What are your hopes for your wip?

Kinda what I said before - I hope it can find its way to people who will love it. Particuarly I'd love to find a queer audience who might relate to the themes.

One day I would love to be traditionally published, but so far I haven't written anything that has stood a chance, so that's a dream for a future WIP!

Blank Questions:

What was the first part of your wip that you created?

If your story was a TV show, what would the theme song/intro be?

Who are your favourite characters you've made? Why?

What other pieces of media do you think would share a fan base for your story?

What has been your biggest struggle with your wip?

Are there any animals in your story? Talk about them!

How do your characters get around? (ex: trains, horses, cars, dragons, etc.)

What part of your wip are you working on rn?

What aspects (tropes, maybe?) of your wip do you think will draw people in?

What are your hopes for your wip?

[neatfrog]

my oc Boldizsár for @alexfeelyx, since you said you wanted to see him lol

(ignore the shitty minigun I didn’t feel like adding a bunch of detail for a sketch)

character info below the cut for anyone else interested

Boldizsár is a character I created roughly 8-9 years ago when Fallout 4 came out. He has a twin sister named Petra, and in my Fallout canon they are members of the Gunners. (*realized I forgot to add his blood type tattoo here, but he’s B+ and Petra is A-. I have no clue if twins can have different blood types like that so correct me if I’m mistaken, I genuinely tried to google but couldn’t get a solid answer)

He likes big guns and explosions, and sometimes talks himself up, but spending more than 2 minutes with him will reveal he’s an absolute cinnamon roll. Less prickly and more compassionate than his sister, he has a particular soft spot for animals and children.

They both joined the Gunners at the age of 15 - Boldizsár because they “looked badass”, and Petra followed only because she couldn’t convince her brother not to go.

(at the time of Fallout 4’s events, they’re both 19, but now that I’m almost a decade older than I was when I made these characters I might bump it up some more)

He and his sister are both of Hungarian descent, and their last name is Zsoldos (which I chose purposely because it means ‘mercenary’ and I thought it was funny as fuck. still think it’s funny tbh)

Traits/Behaviors

brave (sometimes too much for his own good)

outraged by injustice or mistreatment of innocent people

sometimes serious situations make him uncomfortable so he often compensates with humor to try to lighten the mood

struggles with guilt over past actions that harmed people

when young, he always listened to whatever Petra told him, and obeyed whenever she instructed him not to do something, but as they got older he became frustrated with her controlling behavior and started to make more of his own choices (which causes a good deal of the conflict in their relationship)

likewise, he has trouble telling her how he truly feels sometimes because he doesn’t want to hurt her (and also doesn’t want to deal with her being angry)

he has trauma from childhood events, but doesn’t realize it (and is somewhat ignorant of how bad it actually was, since Petra shielded him from most of it)

can be stubborn when he feels really strongly about something

very curious about the world and wants to explore (their upbringing was very closed-off and sheltered, they were basically raised in a cult)

is good at logic games and puzzles, and can strategize well

throughout time spent in the Gunners he became familiar with the inner workings/mechanics of explosives and large weapons (idk if it’s possible to dismantle a minigun and put it back together, but if so he could definitely do that)

the thing that would make him happiest is having a family of his own

he’s an aquarius (I gave him and Petra my mom’s birthday so it would be easy to remember lol)

can be pretty oblivious to certain things when they aren’t said/shown explicitly (yes he’s autistic why do you ask)

he’s naive about certain things in the world due to his sheltered upbringing, but is open-minded about new information and experiences

does his best to see the good in people even when they’ve done bad things (but also doesn’t tolerate purposely cruel people)

he wears that Coat all the time (he found it on a skeleton)

(during fallout 4 timeline) becomes deaf in one ear due to a bad injury (this is my reminder to give him some headphones bc the weapons he uses are loud af)

phobia of radscorpions (can we blame him? fuck those things)

-

There’s way more I could say but I think this is enough to sum up his character for now. I guess I should make a post for Petra too 🤔