#it's not a matter of drawing for likes or whatever it's a matter of i want other people to see my stuff and connect with it

[3liza]

because most of us can't. the majority of subsistence artists, like sex workers, are in this line of work because we can't do other work. there is also a huge amount of overlap between sex work and subsistence artists and always has been. i have no clue why I continue to see it being discussed as something every artist is simply choosing to do out out some combination of stupidity and narcissism. i would cut off one of my toes to magically have the ability to show up to a normal job every day.

there is a huge blind spot about artists in Marxism and leftist discussion of labor generally because Marx literally didn't talk about them and they don't fit into the "owning the means of production = bourgeois" model unless you're dumb enough to call the guy doing tourist caricatures on the boardwalk "bourgeois", and no joke I have actually seen people try to argue this, but everyone normal understands they are stupid so it doesn't matter. we agree that the guy on the boardwalk with the easel or the bucket drums or the harp is not actually bourgeois.

if you have actually worked in the "creative industry" without support while paying your own rent and groceries and not being supported by parents or friends or a spouse, and you know a bunch of other people who have been doing the same thing for a long time, you are similarly confused by discussions along the lines of "why do artists simply not get other jobs if they hate being slowly fed into the social media meat grinder 🤔"

i can tell you exactly why. it's because I spend 25 days out of every month having to Lie Down, and when I tried saying the words "Americans with Disabilities Act" to various employers and school administrators like you're supposed to, I got shitcanned and failed so many times it was like a vaudeville routine. you will find that this is true of a great many working artists (not hobbyists and not students living at home, adult working artists), perhaps most, and I genuinely continue to be baffled by the fact that nobody seems to be aware that drawing things for cash (or dancing or writing articles or editing manuscripts or taking wedding photos or whatever) and other jobs without set schedules (like stripping, camming, etc) are careers a lot of people, certainly the ones without any starting capital, end up in when they can't get paid more for fewer hours. and you get paid more for fewer hours in basically any other job than these, including working at fast food or walmart.

surely you can hear how this sounds? "if you don't like it, why don't you just get a job that pays more?" where have we heard that before? stop. think.

[peppermintprism]

Hello fellow ADHDer, may I interest you in some management tools?

Option 1: goblin.tools the AI tool that breaks down tasks for you. (Note: if you don’t want to use AI, you can skip to Option 2)

You can delete sub-tasks that don’t apply to you, or click the 🪄 icon to break down sub-tasks further. I often find that I’m not overwhelmed by the number of steps, but instead by trying to hold all those tiny steps in my glitchy working memory.

Option 2: Domestic Labor & Dragons. This strategy originated on TikTok, and most citations trails lead back to @this.isjules but I was unable to find the original video. Here’s my version of it:

1. On a day when you have a brain cell, make a list of the chores in your house by room or section. Number each item, try to make your list lengths correspond to standard dice numbers so that you can roll on them as tables later. Your options are: 2, 4, 6, 8, 10, 12, and 20. 🎲

3. Assign point values to each chore. The number of points doesn’t matter, but I like using 5pts for easier tasks, 10pts and 15pts for medium tasks, and 20pts for especially hard tasks. I made two lists for some unintelligible reason. You can just put the points on the same page, just like write them in another pen color or something.

4. Make your monster. Draw it badly. Use a randomizer website or pull from the monster manual if you want, just don’t get too precious with it, the monster’s purpose is to be defeated and we’re gonna scribble on it. If you want to do a big cleaning day, tally up your total possible points for doing every chore in your house, then divide that by two. (For me, all chores add up to 400pts so I make most of my Big Monsters 200pts)

5. FIGHT! Most of the time I really only end up needing to use the Roll for Chores sheet and the dice, but it’s really fun to scribble on the monster as they take damage and your house gets cleaner. You can optionally assign some reward for defeating the monster, but I just like the dopamine hit of defeating my Blorbo. Mine reset to baby mode upon defeat as seen with Bitey above. Final note: if you refill the same chore twice, take a break!! Get food!! The people who tell you to never stop moving are on their way to burnout!!! You can get momentum again by rolling the dice “just to see” what the next chore would be.

More options: Body Double with a friend, Roleplay that you’re Cinderella or your favorite character, put on a dance music album and only clean until the music stops, invite a friend over to have a reason to make your space clean when they arrive, put on videos of professional cleaners helping people get their space in order, hide shelf-stable snacks at the bottom of piles of clutter and only eat them once you’ve reached the bottom of that pile. Do whatever works! Throw shame out the window! If it works for you it’s not dumb!

(Note: this acronym is also sometimes called INCUP or FOCUS. I just like PINCH best.)

Good luck out there, friends! Now I have to go do the cleaning that I procrastinated by making this post. 😅

Sincerely,

A fellow ADHDer ♾️🦋

Clean home checklist:

"Do the laundry" as if doing laundry doesn't have 27 individual steps that each require other tasks to get done. Each task runs the risk of starting additional secret tasks.

"Organize kitchen" my brain has malware and it's overheating. CPU at 100%. There are no executives at my function

[yestrday]

— YANDERE! MALEWIFE! GENSHIN AU part one | two | three | four | five

⇢ neuvillette, wriothesley, lyney, freminet + baizhu

introducing ! fontaine is the country of romance, and what could be the peak of romance but marriage? you have sworn your eternal love and fealty to your partner and fontainians are anything but dispassionate lovers! if you're scared that your partner will get too passionate, well.... qui vivra verra.

[ happy new year! is yestr actually being productive?! i did not do mika bc... gasp! yestr is lazy?! who wouldve known! ]

warning ! yandere behavior, bIackma1l, múrder, i feel like im getting lost by own aus so i have to say it again: this is modern teyvat!, hints at poison, jealousy, child assássins?!

— ORDAINER OF INEXORABLE JUDGMENT. neuvillette | ヌヴィレット

[ “clearly, your workplace is not complying with multiple clauses of the Code du Travail, i should—” ]

⇢ before meeting you, neuvillette couldn’t have imagined getting married and settling down for a domestic life. he’d always thought that he’d forever be swamped with trials and paperworks until he hit retirement age. he had no ideal life in mind, only work and justice to occupy his thoughts, until you came along and he found himself exchanging vows with you in a fontainian church.

⇢ he wouldn’t call his current life ‘retirement’ per se, but rather a change of occupation. tending to the house while you left for your job appealed to him more than working day in and day out in courthouses. he had taken up baking and cooking, something to treat the visiting melusines with as they dropped by to check on their father and his partner. neuvillette and a party of chatty melusines having tea and homemade cookies is a common sight to return home to. the melusines are pretty friendly with you, having seen how enamored their father figure is with you. their innocent smiles and cute lil bodies are stress relievers, though not more so than your husband’s gentle smile and firm hands massaging the knots from your shoulders.

⇢ he busies himself with various hobbies once all the chores are out of the way. flip through a book and read out loud to the melusines snuggled on top of him, attempt a baking recipe one of the girls begged him to try, or stroll through the neighborhood to clear his mind. he doesn’t even know he’s so so lonely until he hears your car pull up in the driveway and he immediately jumps up from whatever he’s doing and rushes over to greet you. the first thing you see is your husband peering through the window with a cool composure, but you can see straight through that facade. you see his brows knitted together in worry, his fingers nervously adjusting the hems of his robe, and his eyes eagerly drinking your tired body in as you make it up the steps. you can’t help but smile as you bring him down to your level and kiss him, your big, awkward oaf of a husband.

⇢ is very particular about the water in your household. taps are all filtered, the water dispenser is stocked with only the best brands, and he is oh-so-meticulous when it comes to drawing your baths! he makes sure that the water is at the right temperature, filters out any impurities no matter how minuscule of an atom by his hand, and uses salts and bath bombs according to what he assumes will be your liking for the day. the both of you prioritized the bathroom when building your house, so the bathtub and the surrounding atmosphere is juuust right for a little cuddle time in the bath.

⇢ dragon-born that he is, you have to forgive neuvillette’s tendencies of being a tad too possessive. well, ‘tad’ is a bit underselling it, but you have to understand. the whiskey scent stuck to your wrinkled laundry, the nauseating aroma of another one’s perfume… something dark and guttural creeps from within his depths that he forces himself to repress. you know he’s not one for perfumes, but if you did wear one it would be one that he liked— crisp, fresh, aquatic. not this scent-numbing sweetness that cloys his senses. he’d like to burn the top and its offensive scent away but… he remembers how damn good you look in this v-neck and decides that it’s nothing a lil spin the wash can’t fix.

⇢ luckily, your husband is still on the saner side, so you’re one of the lucky few who might never come across your husband’s violent tendencies. but they still come out, just a bit more… subtly. he massages your stiff shoulders late at night as he puts on a record on the gramophone for you, listening to you rant about your terrible boss. there are a few details that make him pause, and for a second there you thought he was going to pop your arms from their sockets. but he composes himself so quickly that you think you just imagined it. he inquires a bit more, rubbing your back with a generous helping of lavender oil, and you tell it all to him because… why wouldn’t you? this is your sweet, worried husband who is oh-so-wise and amazing!

⇢ the very next day, not your boss but your upper management gets a visit from the maison gardiennage. they’re all in upheaval now that they’ve got the police on them, but neuvillette is sitting at home contently, sipping tea with you in the garden after your office has suddenly called off work for the day. he’s taking glances from his oh-so-interesting novel to watch your face as you reach for another cookie the girls baked, rambling about how miraculous it for your company to generously allow all of you a day-off. he just chuckles and goes back to his book, gratefully accepting a cookie a melusine’s reaches towards his mouth.

“oh, it hardly feels real!” you gush over a cup of rose tea, lounging in the shade of your backyard’s trees while you, neuvillette, and the melusines enjoy a perfect sunny afternoon. “they called the whole day off, it falls on a friday, i get to have a long weekend, and i get to spend it all with you and the girls!” you sigh dreamily. “pinch me neuvi, it feels like a dream!” your husband, picture-perfect in his chair with a book and melusine in his arms, chuckles at your dramatics. “dear, if one measly day off makes you act this way, maybe it’s time for you to find another job. or…” feeling huffy by the mere implication, you abruptly stand up and slam your hands on the table.  “no, no, neuvi! i love you, but i can’t possibly have you working again! you deserve it after all these years of hard work! i want you to just sit back and relax and have your awesome partner shower you in money, okay?” he takes your face  in his hand, his thumb running along your dark undereyes. you watch as his face, normally so composed yet awkward, contort into a mixture of worry and regret, before finally dissolving into acceptance. “well. that i would allow. so long as you return to by my side at the end of the night.” you giggle and press a kiss into his palm before plopping back down. “so romantic!” you tease. “of course, neuvi! where else would i come back to anyway?” you don’t know it, but the dragon inside him preens at your unknowing admission of ownership as he settles back into his chair and continues his novel with a silent smile on his face.

[ “well girls, that is how marriage ought to be when you are bound to a dragon. ownership of your spouse and in turn, protect your treasure at all times.” ]

— EMISSARY OF SOLITARY INIQUITY. wriothesley | リオセスリ

[ “keep my shirt on, you say? well sure, but you’re the one enjoying the show.” ]

⇢ your darn stud of a husband…! with his cool blue eyes, his large scarred biceps, that cocky smirk when he catches you staring and just… everything about him, he makes you feel like you’re back to the younger you who could only stare yearningly at him from afar. he’s always teasing you, making sure to unbutton the first three buttons just to show off his cleavage… he gets a kick out of seeing you blushing and squeaking when he gets too close wearing nothing but an apron.

⇢ when the two of you moved into the neighborhood, he scared off the neighbors with his cold features and muscled, scarred body, but that’s not quite the case anymore. they quickly got to know him as pretty easygoing and reliable; the community relies on him for a lot of heavy lifting for their projects, and he frequently invites the aunties for tea parties in your backyard. you often come home to the aunties filing out your gate in giggles, slapping you on the shoulder for a job well done securing such a ‘hunk of a man’. you raise your eyebrows at wriothesley, who leans against the door frame with a smug smirk before beckoning you for dinner.

⇢ he’s a little bit hesitant whenever the topic of having kids comes up. he knows he is not his foster parents… and yet the thought of setting these scarred hands on an innocent little life. these hands have ended people— cruel, abusive, and cold-hearted, but people nonetheless. he’s afraid that he might continue the cycle of abuse that he’s been haunted by for so long. wriothesley knows deep down that will never happen; you were there to ground him and keep his wits about him, but his fears still surface whenever the conversation happens. these children would be yours too, and he wants nothing but the best for you and this family.

⇢ when you talk to him about a co-worker hitting on you at work, he isn’t so insecure as to immediately get jealous and possessive. he’s a smug bastard; he knows he’s hot. he’s got aunties telling him, men and women alike eyeing him in the gym, and he’s got you blushing every day like you aren’t married. so he only laughs with you at their meaningless attempts. things get… a bit different when you’re in actual danger. throughout your relationship, wriothesley’s always been the overprotective type. sometimes you think he’s going too far, with the way you’ve seen him throwing hands and crushing skulls at sleazy men trying to grope you in bars. but you haven’t seen anything yet.

⇢ you don’t know. you don’t know his past, don’t know his deeds, don’t know his sins. he’s only ever presented himself as a suave, teasing gentleman. he was as normal as a prison warden could get and he played this role until you said yes to his proposal. you don’t know about life before he was in power. when he was the one behind those bars. you’ve never questioned why he didn’t let you into his workspace or why he was so eager to get away from that life as soon as you two signed the marriage papers.

⇢ and so it sends a shiver down your spine when you see wriothesley so… lifeless. you thought it was a nice surprise, seeing your husband wait for you outside your work, but with the way he’s staring down your co-worker you’re beginning to suspect that he’s not actually there for you. you try pushing him to make him budge, but his muscled body doesn’t move an inch as the slimy rat scampers away from his glare. you call out his name, worriedly, and he blinks a few times before he’s back to his normal, friendly self. you spend the rest of the week in unease, those strangers’ eyes haunting you at the back of your mind.

“look at you,” wriothesley hums, dropping the nearly unconscious person from his grasp. they fall to the alley’s cement ground, heaving and spluttering blood as they try to regain their senses. splotches of black block their vision, the buzz of nightlife so far away and muffled in his ringing ears, and when he tries to prop himself up, the ex-warden’s glare makes them freeze in terror. “i don’t make a habit of hurting people, believe me, but it’s hard to stay calm when i hear some rat is harassing my partner when i’m not there.” he presses a heel into their ruptured throat, indifferent to the ensued coughing and choking. “do you know how long i’ve been waiting for this? to teach you a lesson?” “i don’t— wheeze— don’t know what’re ya talkin’ about—!” at this, wriothesley scowls and he releases them from his heel’s pressure before delivering a swift kick to their shin. they’re sent flying towards a dumpster, their back hitting the metal and sending them back to the concrete. wriothesley approaches them, towering over their bloody figure. they’re ways off from the red district and even if they could scream, their throat is too damaged to even think about it. they can only stare in growing fear as they pray that this… monster before him would spare him. “pleading guilty, huh? too bad.” their eyes roll to the back of their head as his fingers wrap around their throat, crushing their pipe with the eased movements of a murderer. “i’m not some justice system. i’m just here to kill you. plain and simple” he grins at the dying man still weakly struggling to push away his arm. “you understand, right? all’s fair in love and war… or somethin’ like that.”

[ “they said something about me? pay no mind. people like to gossip about handsome people like me.” ]

— SPECTACLE OF PHANTASMAGORIA. lyney | リネ

[ “one moment there is nothing in my palm and the next… tada! roses from the garden! welcome home~” ]

⇢ lyney’s always been the coy, teasing type. he likes to suddenly pull your faces together, breath on your lips as he leans in for a kiss, before his finger slips in a failed cooking and he bounces away laughing as you splutter and gag. he likes to wake up in the morning, innocent stretching as if he doesn’t notice the way his shorts ride up his thighs and your shirt on him hiking up to show his lean physique. he puts on a show— hiding his face as he teases you for being a pervert for enjoying his oh-so-vulnerable body. you blush and finish straightening out your necktie, leaving lyney to laugh as you bolt out the door for work.

⇢ even before you were married, the two of you already enjoy all the stresses and joys that come with being parents. lyney, after all, is the successor of the same orphanage he grew up in. the children there call him ‘father’ and when he introduced you to them, you found yourself taking up the same parent role as your partner. lyney is overjoyed to see you take to the children so well, fondly dropping by the orphanage next door and taking time out of your busy schedule to play with them. when you’re finall off the clock, you see lyney in an apron waving you from the porch surrounded by children leaning over to greet you two. you always have to tighten your grip on the steering wheel whenever you see the sight. it’s like… it’s like… gah, you can’t explain it, but something about this domestic bliss lights up a fire in your loins.

⇢ has a habit of rewarding you after a long day’s work. once he makes sure that all the orphans are settled in for the night, the two of you move to your abode next door so he can soothe the stress from your body. poor thing, he murmurs, finger tickling the shell of your ear as he sets down your plate in front of you. his pretty partner, being bullied by their big, mean boss and their pushy co-workers. lucky for you, you’ve got such an adoring husband ready to take care of you for the rest of the night, huh?

⇢ family. family. he’s had lynette, but to have parents by his side to coddle and cherish him? he’s never grown to know such a feeling. so when he sees you playing with the kids, begrudging in indulging their outlandish requests yet smiling with such fondness… something inside him burns so passionately he thinks it might consume him. by blood, these kids were not his but this must be it. to have a whole and complete family. and to have this family with you, the love of his life! were it not for the tight feeling in his chest, he would’ve thought that this would be a fantastical dream.

⇢ the house of the hearth is just a government recruitment agency under the guise of a loving orphanage, and everyone but you is privy to that information. you don’t recognize your own children following you in the streets or peering into your office windows. the cctvs don’t catch them rustling through your boss’ drawers for black market transactions. why would you, when you come home to them smiling and hugging your legs, begging you for a bedtime story? when you retire for the night, they report to their boss— their Father— and it’s just another day of keeping their family whole and happy.

⇢ you are, after all, are lyney’s weakness. you remain blissfully aware of the many people after your head, hoping to cut deep into snezhnayan government by gaining the upper hand with lyney. so you don’t know how much blood has been shed in your name by the same innocent kids you’ve grown to care for as your own… or the fact that it has been all commanded by your loving and faithful husband, who kisses you on the lips so sweetly every night that you would never know they’ve been long tainted by poison.

“father,” one of his children kneel on the ground, cloaked in black as they ready to deliver their report for the day. “nothing unusual has happened today in the office.” “that’s good news then!” ‘Father’ claps happily as he lounges lazily on his mahogany office desk. despite the smile in his voice and his cheery demeanor, his child doesn’t have to look up to see the cold-hearted eyes of an experienced agency and killer. “nice to know that the new boss has been behaving himself. it took so many of them before they realized what was actually going on!” “yes, father, this new one has been behaving himself but…” his child pauses, cautious to speak what they were about to say. “have you not considered asking mama to move jobs?” lyney sighs and puts a hand on his cheek. “oh dear, believe me i have. in fact, i even said that they didn’t need this job! but, well, you know how stubborn your mama can be. they wouldn’t even hear of it! i hope you and the other children can persuade them but… before that time comes, let’s just support your mama in whatever they want.” the child nods in understanding. they are, after all, the shining example of all their children. they remind him of himself back when he was still under the previous father’s care. “i will try, father. mama has promised to bring cake and have tea time with us when they get off their job so… maybe.” “hehe, your mama really loves you all so. have fun then, dear~”

[ “what do you mean the children have been acting strangely? maybe you’re tired from all that work you’re doing…” ]

— YEARNING FOR UNSEEN DEPTHS. freminet | フレミネ

[ “even though i am the way that i am… i hope i can always make you happy, like you make me.” ]

⇢ your sweet, sweet husband! he’s always hiding those shy blue eyes behind his pale blonde hair, head hunched over some mechanical device or seeking respite in his diving helmet. even after all these years together and eventually getting married, he’s still so shy when it comes to initiating physical contact. someone in this relationship has to, and so it seems to fall on your shoulders to get the hugs and kisses the two of you deserve. it’s not like you’re complaining, not when you can hear that precious squeak when you wrap your arms around his delicate waist and press a giggle-kiss onto his neck while he’s cooking up breakfast.

⇢ he’s a bit insecure about his role in your marriage. it has nothing to do with being a housewife, really! it’s just that… once you’re gone, he’s just so totally lost. at least when you’re there with him he can feel human again instead of some clockwork puppet rusting at home. you would guide him and tell him on what to do instead of him alone fretting and fussing over what he should do and if he would even get it right. you would never hurt him, and yet you get a bit concerned whenever you arrive home and freminet is there waiting for you with his hands nervously wrung together. you have to assure him that you would never get mad at such a sweet and dutiful housewife! only a monster would! and freminet knows that you’re anything but a monster.

⇢ you wouldn’t be able to tell by his face, but whenever you show him off to your co-workers and friends, he’s so over the moon that it’s a wonder he can contain himself. hearing you call him by such sicky-sweet names like ‘honey, dearie, baby, lovely’ while bragging about him has him hiding his face, but it’s only because he feels like the smile on his face looks so stupid! the others gag while you drone on and on about how pretty and amazing your partner is and freminet can only look down on his lap and clenched fists as he squirms in his seat. knowing that you adore him as much as he adores you… it makes his heart beat a mile per minute, something he thought would never happen before he met you.

⇢ he’s deathly scared of losing you. without you, he fears that he’ll revert back to his old self— that soulless, emotionless human more akin to a robot than a person. all his life he thought he would be better off unfeeling and wishing to be born with gears than a heart, but you came by and showed him how colorful life could be with the right person. he doesn’t want to lose you, but he’s so incompetent, so clumsy, so socially inept… how could he ever compare to the wonderful brilliant you?

⇢ he hopes you don’t hate him when he gets rid of these better, more amazing people. they’re usually your co-workers, sometimes strangers who’ve caught your eye, rarely ever your friends (he doesn’t want to make you unhappy). killing is rare for him and something he doesn’t do on a whim, but he fears that once you surround yourself with so many brilliant people you’ll see him for the failure that he is. so, even if it is only a temporary solution, he dons the diving mask and takes them out at the perfect timing. he was raised to be the perfect assassin, so in theory, he doesn’t have to worry about getting caught—

⇢ — except that you know him better than he knows himself. you have a talent for seeing through him that he gets scared that you’ll immediately sus out what he’s done the moment he walks through the door. on these days, he gets clingy and more affectionate, trying to make up for what he’s done. it’s a pleasant surprise to see your taciturn husband fling himself at you and nuzzle his head in your chest without further explanation. usually, people would demand an explanation for the sudden change of behavior… but why would you? you’re not going to complain if freminet decides to shower you with love out of nowhere! freminet in turn is just glad that you’re the way you are. you’ve invested so much love and resources into him… he doesn��t want to waste all of that and throw it all away.

“you’re so cute!” you giggle as you spin freminet around, still cuddled into your chest and pale arms around your torso. “what’s with the sudden love bomb? gosh, how were you born so cute! it doesn’t make sense!” you pepper kisses onto his face as you press him against the sofa, delighting in the way he tries to cover the blush on his freckled cheeks at your over-affectionate behavior. “n-nothing, really…” he mumbles, peeking at you through his fingers as you continue to shower him with pecks. you’ve loosened your tie and your white button-down has been wrinkled thoroughly by this sudden love fest. “i just… i love you, [your name]. i love you a lot.” you hum happily at his confession. this was nothing that you didn’t know, but it was still delightful to hear. you hear him suck in a breath, hesitating, before finally letting it out, “do– do you love me too…?” you cease your incessant kissing just to raise a brow at him, an incredulous look on your face. he reddens even further. he knows it’s a stupid question. how could anyone with two eyes ever question your love for your blonde husband? but still… he wants to hear it. even if he’s heard it from you this morning, and the day before, and every day before that… he wants to hear it now. “i love you, silly.” you boop him on the nose, flopping yourself beside him on the couch. he turns to look at you, his ice-blue eyes peering up at you through long lashes. “always have, always will.” you thread your fingers together. his hands, unlike the rest of him, are calloused and rough. hardened by those years of diving, perhaps? or something else? nevertheless, you press his hand to your lips and look at him. “i’ll say it as many times as you want.” you watch as those eyes, usually so taciturn and shy, tear up at your confession. you were so loving, so wonderful… he could hardly believe that you were his. “thank you… thank you, [your name], i just…”  he lets out a choked laugh, a rare smile breaking out on those delicate features. “i don’t know… i just feel stupid today.” you hum in understanding, pressing another kiss to each of his fingers while he watches you. “rough day?” you ask, and he simply nods, not wanting to elaborate further. it’s okay. more than okay. you could guess by the metallic tang blooming on your lips on how exactly his day went.

[ “please… please don’t hate me… you don’t deserve this but i… but i don’t want them to realize what kind of person i am!” ]

— BEYOND MORTALITY. baizhu | 白术

[ “look at those dark circles… don’t prioritize your career over your health, okay? do it for me?” ]

⇢ baizhu is always fussing over your health despite being the sickly one, but you suppose that’s in line with him being a doctor. your pretty husband has relocated his clinic to your new home together and continues to enjoy a steady stream of his loyal customers. you worry about baizhu overworking himself while you’re at work, but him being at home puts you at ease. at least changsheng will be able to quickly guide him to bed whenever his chronic illness flares up and he has little qiqi with him… actually, you think you’re more worried about qiqi.

⇢ being married to baizhu comes with the benefit of welcoming qiqi and changsheng into your family. he treats qiqi like his own child despite being an amnesiac girl that he picked off his streets that you’ve grown to also care for her like she was your own daughter. baizhu tells you that you needn’t spoil her so much; she’ll probably forget to put on the new dress you bought for her, but he can’t tell you what to do! baizhu enjoys seeing you fawn over the child, watching in amusement as you desperately try to make her remember your name. it’s been a tough journey, but you are over the moon once she calls you mama/papa. that does make baizhu a tad jealous, something that changsheng teases him about. after all, he’s been with qiqi longer!

⇢ the two of you enjoy your quiet moments together. when night has fallen and qiqi has retired to her room, the two of you sit in the living room as you prepare for another day’s work. only his rustling of prescription papers and your hurried tapping on the keyboard can be heard; not a single conversation passes between you two. even changsheng has drifted off to sleep in the midst of this silence. finishing the last email for the day, you stretch and look to see how baizhu is doing. as always, he’s always so pretty focused on the task before him. his hair is still braided in its usual fashion, and you settle behind him and slowly detangle his locks. he doesn’t glance at you, but he hums in appreciation. his hair, oiled and trimmed at changsheng’s insistence, is soft and glossy as you brush it while you wait for him to finish up.

⇢ although he’s lauded by his patients as kind and selfless, those who don’t know him would think that he has an odd air about him. maybe it’s because his eyes contain a hidden cunning that the people you introduce him to becomes rather wary of him. or is it the way that he talks all politely but with a subtle bite to them? you don’t know why he becomes rather passive-aggressive when you invite someone over to your home, but you’re so enthralled by this change of behavior that you forget to scold him for it. your friends complain about the way baizhu looks at them from head to toe like he’s assessing them. you have to explain that it’s actually a doctor’s habit, some sort of medical procedure… or so baizhu explained once.

⇢ physical ailments are his expertise, mental illnesses he can refer his patients to another doctor, but stupdity is a disease that unfortunately cannot be cured. before he married you, he abhorred the disgusting feelings that stirred inside him whenever he sees you smile at another person. but now that he has married you and you have proclaimed yourself as his, he’s thrown away all self-disgust now that his jealousy has been justified. it’s human nature to feel possessive over someone that is his by right. for your sake, he tries to be as civil as possible… though it becomes impossible whenever he hears them complain about him to you whenever they think he’s out of earshot.

⇢ if they refuse to give the two of you some space, then baizhu surmises that he will have to do it himself. herbal concoctions are his thing, after all. who said it needed to be medicine? changsheng hisses in amusement as he mashes herbs together out in the lawn while you’re snoring away in bed. her eyes flicker to baizhu, face shadowed by the dark of night. before you, he’s always been so civil and logical. aside from his frail constitution, changsheng thinks that his marriage to you might have given her partner another malady.

“hey, baizhu, something’s up with guanxi,” is the first thing you sat when you come back from work. changsheng watches as the doctor’s eye twitches before he forces his lips to smile warmly to greet you. you peck your husband on the cheek. “he’s been coughing and hacking blood since yesterday.” “oh my,” he says in a tone that’s supposed to sound concerned. “that is concerning. go contact him to see when he’s available and i’ll squeeze him into my schedule tomorrow.” you start tp dial his number on your phone, before you stop and after a few seconds of thinking, shake your head. “nah… that wouldn’t work. he gets very awkward around you. says you give him the creeps. i don’t get it! you’re like, the most perfect being to exist.” baizhu giggles when you cup his head into your palms as you admire the beauty that is your husband. you slyly smile and whisper. “don’t tell him, but just for that, i gave him twice more work than he had to do.” and people think he’s sly. they should see you! baizhu laughs at your show of devotion and presses a kiss into one of your palms. “now, now. you can’t make all your friends like me the way you adore me so. but, well… call it coincidence, but i did make your favorite today.” you gasp in delight. “is this my gift for avenging my darling wife?!” he rolls his eyes at your dramatic antics and pinch your cheeks fondly. “mmm, call it a… hm, a celebration feast.”

[ “oh my, and i just had the prescription for that as well. people should trust their local doctors more.” ]

[arcane-ish]

Season 1 Vanco, Season 2 Vanco and why I love both

There are people who will insist that shipping season 1 Vanco and season 2 Vanco is almost two different things. I don’t fully agree.

I wrote my “why I’m drawn to them” post in season 1 and even back then, for me at least the allure with the idea of the “one big happy family”. Of it being so close you could taste it. Of it being the ultimate what if. Of all the things that could be fixed if Zaundads were just real (in season 1: mostly the conflict between Jinx and Vi).

So yes, season 2 came as a shock of just how aligned the writers ended up being with the way I saw the ship even in season 1. And even in some ways I wouldn’t have dared to hope.

Still, I do understand the point that s1 Zaundads is a subtly different ship almost as s2 Zaundads. I’m just lucky enough to like both.

Season 1 Zaundads…

Season 1 Zaundads was broody and mysterious. Full of violence, veiled references and open questions. “I’ve heard this kind of talk before”, “There are worse things than enforcers out there”, “you had my respect”, “brothers and sisters, back to back against whatever the world threw at us”.

But also of evocative parallels. If in my ways Vi is Vander’s and Jinx is Silco’s, if they are like their fathers and yearn to be together, is it that strange to imagine a this being mirrored by Vander and Silco when you try to imagine their relationship? When Silco as he tries to ward off Vi is the one who draws the comparison to him and Vander over and over again, while Jinx questions how honest he really is in this regard?

And then there’s Silco and the heartbreaking parallels. The show starts with Vander changing his life to pick up his future daughters. And it ends with Silco ending up in a very similar spot, willing to value Jinx over attaining Zaun and losing his life over it. What can I do but question whether this falling out between them was really necessary if in the end maybe they end up in such a similar situation, which Silco himself seems to realize when he seeks out Vander’s statue.

And ah, the poignancy, that he seeks out the Vander statue at all to talk to it when he is so close to his moment of triumph.

Season 2 Zaundads…

When Season 1 Zaundads drove us crazy with speculation what happened between them, what they were like in the before timed, what exactly happened to make Vander turn on Silco, sesaon 2 answers some of those questions. And yeah, some of those answers were underwhelming, not gonna lie.

But! To me there’s still beauty in season 2. Season 2 on a Zaundad front is so much about yearning. About Vander’s yearning especially. It’s there in his letter. It’s there in how Silco is still in Warwick’s mind as he scours the mines half crazed.

It’s there in the little love shack and the jackets. It’s there in Jinx, the person who probably knew Silco best in the recent years says the letter would have mattered, it would have changed so much. It’s there in Silco, a sweet, loving Silco memory being the first thing that shows up when Viktor manages to enter Vander’s soul.

And there are other things, worth loving, the way Silco looks even in Vander’s dark red visions of him, the way the tease in the flashback to their younger selves, the way Silco is scribbling away and then of course … the AU.

The AU that has the writers coming out firmly on the side of “a reunion would have been possible” but also “a reunion is close to the best thing that could have happened to the world”.

This element might not be necessary to make a good ship, and it sure isn’t what I expected to get when I shipped them in season 1. But I think a shipper group or two can confirm that it feels pretty damn awesome to look at your ship and think: “their love changed the world and it made it better” (and you know, not just just in the sense that they are the ones that made it worse in the first place :p)

A personal take

People talk a lot about how Silco and Vander could have made up and how they achieved the Zaun we see in season 2, episode 7. Did Silco come around to Vander’s side of seeing things, or the other way around. I don’t have a problem with either approach.

But my personal preference has always been towards balance, of both parts of a couple being developed and important and worth cheerleading.

So for my personal tastes, I like to think it needs both of them. They are better together than apart. Their approaches are flawed are incomplete without the other. Silco’s approach is shit highly questionable (as in: I question whether the society he would achieve would be a very appealing one and not full of its own problems) if it doesn’t have some of Vander’s conciliatory and communal elements and Vander’s approach is shit without Silco’s zeal and focus.

[justaparsec94]

Wounded

Summary: In the aftermath of Tantiss Hunter pays a visit to Pabu's resident healer to help him deal with his battle wounds.

Pairing: Hunter x fem!Reader

Word Count: 5,798

Author's Note: This is just pure, pointless fluff.

*****************

In general, Hunter did whatever was within his power to avoid medbays and med droids. Truthfully, anything and everything medical-related. It was, in his mind, a likely byproduct of growing up in a laboratory and essentially spending most of his life being poked, prodded, and scanned. You name it it had likely happened to Hunter and his brothers. Once he had been released from Kamino he had adopted the mentality that there wasn’t anything some bacta spray and a self-applied bandage couldn’t fix. The only way someone would get him anywhere near a medbay was if he was unconscious and physically couldn’t have anything to say about it. 

He learned rather quickly though, that the people of Pabu had a different outlook when it came to looking after oneself. They actually cared. Not only that, but they were careful about taking care of one another. No unnecessary scans or blood draws. Just basic sentient kindness. It was a foreign concept to him and despite knowing that no one on the island would intentionally hurt him or anyone for that matter, he still avoided their medical clinic at all cost. 

A decision that he was questioning currently, as a stabbing pain shot through his side as he lifted the other end of a mattress. An involuntary groan left him and the end of the mattress dipped, his head swam as the pain reached an almost unbearable level.  He tried to take a deep breath to clear his head but that only made the pain worse, his hands slipped off the mattress and the loud thump that resulted caused every pair of eyes in the house to turn his way.

“Hunter?” Omega asked, voice filled with concern.

At the same time, Phee placed the box she had been carrying down, “You ok there, Hunter?” 

“Fine,” He managed to reply though it came out more of a wheeze. His skin was crawling at all the unwanted attention but it seemed the pain in his side wasn’t going to be ignored in that moment. No matter how much he wanted to pretend it was fine and continue on with the task at hand. 

They’d only returned from Tantiss a few days prior, but each day had seemed busier than the last. Between getting the other clones and children settled, trying to coordinate with Rex, and moving into the house that Shep and Phee had given them there had barely been any time for Hunter to rest, despite that being what he really wanted most of all. They’d all sustained injuries on the mission, but Hunter had felt that as the least injured, he could take over doing everything his brothers shouldn’t be doing at the moment, like moving a mattress with Shep.  

A scoff from the corner of the room drew his attention, Crosshair was sitting on a stool, his usual stony expression on his face and arms crossed over his chest. The lack of a hand was still jarring to Hunter and filled him with guilt each time. 

“He’s just pretending he’s fine, like usual,” He said, tone filled with less malice than was typical for Crosshair, but still incredibly snide. They might have made a lot of strides but the two of them still had a long way to go in repairing their relationship. 

“What’s wrong, Hunter?” Omega asked, putting down her own box and coming over to him. They didn’t have many possessions, especially since what they did have had gone up in flames or sunk to the bottom of the ocean with The Marauder, but Shep and Phee had very generously rounded up donations so that their new house would feel more like a home. It wasn’t much and it was mostly furniture but after a lifetime of having nothing, it meant a lot to them all. 

“Nothing,” He said again, this time his voice came out stronger. The pain subsided somewhat now that he was no longer lifting a heavy object. 

“You sure?” Wrecker asked, crowding into the space, “I can help Shep with this if yah need a break.” Wrecker was in even less shape than Hunter, he’d been so badly injured during the mission that it was a miracle he was even moving around only a few days later. 

“I’m fine,” Hunter snapped, uncomfortable with all of the attention that was currently on him. He didn’t want or need them to worry about him. 

“It’s his ribs,” Crosshair said cooly, which caused Hunter to curse internally. Nothing ever got past the sharpshooter. 

“I’ll get AZI!” Omega said, turning quickly to make her way out of the small house but Hunter caught her gently by the arm. 

“It’s fine, Omega,” he repeated as she looked up at him in confusion, “I don’t need AZI. It’s just a twinge.”

Crosshair scoffed in the corner again but Hunter pointedly ignored him as Omega continued to look at him with wide, concerned eyes. The expression was almost enough to make him actually consider seeking some form of medical treatment from the droid. Almost.

“Are you sure?” She asked.

“Positive,” Hunter said, letting go of her arm to pat her shoulder in what he hoped was a comforting way. She gave him another long, scrutinizing look that she seemed to have inherited directly from Crosshair before she picked up her box once more and carried it toward the room that would be her own. Wrecker gave Hunter a long, knowing look before he followed after her, keen to help her re-create the space she had lost on The Marauder. 

“Why don’t you help me with this Phee?” Shep asked, clearly ignoring Hunter’s protests that he was actually fine and capable of moving furniture. 

“Sure thing, take a break boys!” Phee said cheerfully. She gently pushed Hunter out of the way but turned to look at him before picking up his dropped end. 

“If you’re so against seeing AZI, you should go see Y/N, I’m sure she could help you out,” Phee suggested with a look in her eyes that Hunter decidedly did not like the look of. Despite his best efforts, he felt his face flush at her suggestion. The last thing he wanted to do was have the most beautiful woman on the island know his problems. 

You had been one of the first people outside of Shep, Lyana, and Phee that he’d met on the island. You were one of the island’s resident healers, unofficially, according to Phee to be the best. He’d met you in the aftermath of the tsunami, tending to those injured in the scramble to safety. The crowd had parted as he had been carrying supplies and it had been like one of those moments straight out of one of the horrible holo films Wrecker and Omega liked to watch. You had been all he’d been able to see. And then later when you’d asked him if he was injured with a warm smile and kind eyes he’d been instantly smitten, which up until that point had been a completely foreign feeling to him. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t think you were capable, you were, even Tech had commented on more than one occasion how ‘proficient’ your skills as a healer were. But it seemed that any time you were around he was only able to say something stupid, or worse, nothing at all. He’d never been very good at dealing with emotions, his own or others, another byproduct of his upbringing, so his feelings for you, whatever they may be, were completely foreign to him. It seemed though, judging by the knowing smirk on Phee’s face that they were not unknown to her. 

“Her bedside manner is a whole heck of a lot better than AZI’s,” Phee said lightly, eyes dancing with amusement, “She’s got some good tricks up her sleeve. I’m sure she’d be able to whip up something to give you some relief.” 

Hunter was about to protest, brush it off as nothing once again but Phee stopped him, her expression turning serious as she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Seriously, Hunter. You don’t need to suffer anymore.”

“It’s in his nature,” Crosshair chimed from his spot in the corner, “Always the martyr.”

“Look who's talking,” Hunter snapped, glaring over at his younger brother who only smirked back over at him, “But fine, I’ll go,” Mostly just to get them to stop bothering him. 

“She’s not in clinic today so check over at her house,” Phee answered before she turned to help Shep carry the long-forgotten mattress, “She’s always happy to have people make a house call.”

Hunter wasn’t so sure about that but it seemed no one was going to let him keep pretending to be ok. He sighed, the pain in his side flaring and causing him to groan softly. Well, he thought as he made his way out of their small home, might as well get it over with sooner rather than later. 

*

Your house was small but well-maintained and looked just like every other house on Pabu, with the exception of a variety of potted plants and flowers lining the front and doorway. Sea glass wind chimes hung beside the door and tinkled softly in the gentle breeze. He briefly wondered if Omega would like some for their house. Maybe potted flowers too? Did that count as decorating? He wondered as he reached up to softly knock on the front door. 

There was no answer after a long, silent moment and with his heightened senses he couldn’t hear any movement within the house. He frowned, it looked like you weren’t home. He stared at the closed door for a moment, considering his options. He wasn’t sure if it would be better to just wait and risk looking like a creep or leave and try again later. 

Before he could even make that decision he turned suddenly, picking up on another presence moments before a figure stepped around the side of the building. You stopped short at the sight of him, eyebrows shot up in surprise and he watched as your head tilted slightly as you took the sight of him in. He took the same moment to look at you, your hair was wet, piled onto your head messily and you were carrying a large board, like the ones he often saw people riding waves in the ocean on. He was pretty sure Tech had said it was called surfing. 

Your momentary shock seemed to wear off and your gaze turned warm as it swept over him from head to toe. He felt your look like a physical weight against his body and he did his best to remain loose and not tense. His senses suddenly seemed to be heading towards overload for no reason he could discern. Maybe all that torture and the hit to the head had done more damage than he had thought. 

“Hey, Hunter,” You greeted warmly before you turned and placed the board up against the house on a small stand he hadn’t noticed before. Oblivious to his internal struggles you turned back towards him, smile somehow even brighter than before, “To what do I owe this pleasant visit?”

“Uh…” He started then coughed, he could feel his face heating at his inability to speak like a normally functioning human being. He didn’t know what in the galaxy was wrong with him, “Phee sent me. She said you might be able to help me out… with some pain.”

A look of understanding dawned on your face and you nodded, suddenly all business, “Of course, come on in,” you gestured towards the front door before moving towards it. He followed after you, trying to keep a respectful distance. 

“Don’t mind the mess,” You replied airly as he followed you further into the house, “I haven’t cleaned in a bit.” 

Hunter couldn’t help but think this was the cleanest home he’d ever been in, it was warm, bright, and inviting. Exactly the type of place he hoped they could make out of their own for Omega’s sake. Most importantly, it didn’t smell like a dirty barrack, so that alone made it the nicest place he’d ever been. 

He followed you into a little room that had been made up into what looked like an examination room rather than a bedroom. He paused at the threshold of the room as the same uncomfortable feeling he always got when it came to medical treatments crept up his neck. 

“I’m sorry it’s not a state-of-the-art medbay, but it does the trick,” You said as you gestured towards the small padded examination table in the centre of the room. You turned back to look at him when he remained silent, slight concern visible in the depths of your eyes, “We can go up to the clinic if you’d be more comfortable with that, though.”

“No,” Hunter replied quickly, face flushing. Even though the medical clinic on Pabu was nothing like a medical facility on Kamino, he still had no desire to go to it. 

“Alright,” You said with a soft nod, clearly noticing his discomfort but thankfully ignoring it, “What can I help you with, Hunter?”

Even to a relative stranger, it was hard for him to admit that he was suffering. His entire body ached worse than it ever had before, had since the moment he’d woken up in Hemlock’s lab. He’d taken a lot of bad hits in his years but the blast from the shuttle that had blown him off his feet and caused part of the roof to collapse on him had done a number. Everything still hurt, but his ribs hurt worst of all “It’s just my ribs. It’s uncomfortable but not too bad.”

You cocked an eyebrow at him, clearly seeing straight through his lie, “I’ll need you to take off your kit so I can take a better look,” You said as you eyed his armour.

Hunter cursed internally, he was now definitely regretting not putting on the clothes Shep had given him. He hadn’t felt comfortable removing his armour just yet, old habits died hard, he supposed but a simple tunic would have made this station a lot easier and less time-consuming. 

You had turned away from him, likely to give him some sense of privacy as he went to work removing the top half of his armour and undersuit. He set his gear aside on the chair in the room neatly before he hauled himself up onto the table, stifling a groan at the pain that laced through him with the movement.

Hearing he was done you turned back around to look at him, approaching the table slowly as though not to spook him. He had to hand it to you, if you were surprised by his state you didn’t let it show. You were pure professionalism as you approached him, eyes taking in the mottling of his skin before your gaze met his. He felt himself tense slightly at your proximity, at this distance, he could see the exact colour of your eyes, and the usual incoherent thoughts he always seemed to get when you were around clouded his mind. 

There was a small smirk on your face as you looked at him and your eyebrow was cocked once more at him as you spoke, “Not too bad, hmm?” 

A small chuckle escaped him before he could stop it and he felt his neck warm once more at being called out, “Well, I’ve had worse…” 

“I don’t doubt that,” You said softly, eyes were warm as you looked at him for a moment. You smelt like the sea combined with something warm and citrusy that he couldn’t name. It was wonderful and with such little distance between the two of you, it was difficult for him to focus on anything else. 

He flinched slightly as your hand gently rested against his left side, pain but also something else entirely shot through him with your touch. He tried to focus on you as you spoke instead of the way his skin was tingling under your touch, “Take a deep breath for me.”

He did as he was told, wincing slightly at the pain it caused. You made a quiet humming noise before your hand moved around towards his back, “Deep breath again.”

You had him repeat that multiple times on each side before you stepped back to get a better look at his face, “Didn’t AZI give you bacta for this? I don’t need my medscanner to tell you’ve got broken ribs.”

He felt his face flush as he spoke, “I uh, told him to save it. We don’t have a lot and my brothers needed it more than I did.” 

Instead of scorn or judgement though, the look you gave him was soft and full of understanding, “I’m sure we can get some more, there’s lots of people on this island who will likely need it at some point. You don’t have to suffer, Hunter.”

The uncomfortable feeling that had been following him around for days was crawling its way back up his throat. He wanted to tell you that he did, that after everything he had failed to do a bit of suffering was the least he deserved. The words almost made their way out before he stopped them and instead, he gave a half-hearted shrug that hurt his ribs, “It’s really not that bad.”

The look you gave him was so knowing that it made his skin crawl. It was like you could see the thoughts currently in his head, but you didn’t push, you simply sighed, “Alright, I know when to admit defeat,” You gave him a soft smile and your hand gently patted his knee once before you turned and made your way to the counter against one wall.

He watched you as you moved methodically, pulling things out of cupboards, and mixing things together. It didn’t take you long to do whatever it was you were doing and when you turned back around you had a small bag of powder in one hand and a jar of what looked like green paste in the other. 

You smiled softly at what he knew was likely a look of skepticism on his face. He knew there was more than one way to heal injuries, that fancy medbays, droids, and bacta weren’t the only things in the galaxy with healing properties but a lifetime of Kaminoan treatment did make him wonder just how effective whatever you had would be. 

“Like I said before, my first recommendation is actually to take the Bacta,” You said as you stopped in front of him once more, “But since I’m assuming that will not happen, you can try this instead.” 

You held up the small bag of powder in your hand first, “Drink a tablespoon of this two times a day, morning and night. My professional tip is to add it to hot tea, it helps with the taste,” You then held up the jar, “And rub this on to your ribs two to three times a day. I’ve adjusted the doses a bit, I’m not exactly sure if it’ll have the same effects as normal given your faster-than-average clone metabolism, but I think it should give you some relief,” You set the bag of powder down beside him on the table as you opened the jar. She put a small amount of her fingers, gesturing towards his ribs with it to let your intentions known. 

He nodded and then his breath caught at the tingling sensation that occurred as you rubbed the salve over his bruised torso,  “And lastly, but most importantly, rest. No heavy lifting, no twisting, no saving civilians. Rest,” You said gently as your hand pulled away from him once the salve was completely rubbed in. He felt his eyes widen at the cooling sensation that suddenly spread beneath where you had applied the salve, it was the first bit of relief he had felt in days. 

“Come back in a few days to see me, I’ll recheck them and if you’re still having pain we can maybe try something else,” You said as you replaced the lid on the salve and put it down beside the bag of powder. 

“Thank you,” he said as he grabbed the top of his blacks and gently pulled it back on over his head. His ribs were still painful but the cooling sensation from the salve was helping a bit. Once it was in place he looked at you again, “What do I owe you?”

You looked momentarily surprised, “You don’t owe me anything Hunter.” 

“I can’t just take this from you and you took the time to see me on your day off,” He protested as the uncomfortable feeling returned. They didn’t have any credits, what they had had from Omega and Crosshair’s gambling adventure had been on The Marauder. He was certain he could find some way to pay everyone back eventually though. He hadn’t quite figured that out yet, but he would.

You shook her head, “No, I don’t do this to make credits, Hunter. I do it to help others. And the lack of excitement on this island means pretty much every day is my day off,” Your gaze was soft and sincere as you looked at him, “Plus, Phee sent you so you automatically get the friends and family discount.” 

He was still hesitant, it was hard to trust the generosity of others. Especially after having spent so long working for Cid and seeing how many in the galaxy operated,  “What’s the friends and family discount?”

“Free,” You replied brightly, patting his knee once more before you retreated, cleaning up the supplies you had left on the counter. He watched you for a moment but when it was clear you would not be changing your mind he sighed and went about putting the top half of his armour back on. 

Hunter was silent as you walked him back towards the front door, he didn’t know what to say, or really how to thank you for helping him but you didn’t seem to be bothered by his silence. You stopped at the door, turning towards him with another bright and warm smile on your face that made his heart rate pick up at an alarming rate. 

“Take it easy, Hunter,” You said gently before your eyes narrowed playfully, “I mean it, rest.” 

“Yes, ma’am.” He finally managed to say. Which only made his face flush more, because that was a dumb thing to say. He technically wasn’t a soldier talking to a civilian anymore, and ma’am just sounded old. 

You chuckled softly but before he could do anything else to make a fool of himself he made his way out of your house, looking back once with a wave before he disappeared from sight. He sighed as he walked, now he just needed to figure out how to actually rest. 

*

“New outfit! I like it,” You said with a bright smile as you pushed open your front door. For the second time that week Hunter had found himself standing outside of your house in the early morning only to have you appear moments later with a surfboard in hand. 

“Uh, yeah,” Hunter replied because once again his brain didn’t seem to be able to keep up with the rest of him. He rubbed at the back of his neck as you shut the door behind him before turning to smile at him once more. It had been hard for him to shed his armour, even though he had to admit that no longer having hard plastoid rubbing against his side made a big difference to the pain in his ribs. The simple tunic and pants that Shep had given him felt odd, but he guessed that eventually he’d get used to it. 

“A bit more practical for island life,” You said as you led him towards the medical room, “I could imagine it would be a bit more comfortable too.”

Hunter shrugged, “I was pretty used to the armour,” 

You paused for a moment, seemingly considering his words, “Well, it looks good and your ribs probably thank you.”

He felt his face heat at the looks good comment. He wasn’t unused to attention, but coming from you it felt completely different. Other than a quick night here and there he’d never really had the chance to even think about beyond a simple attraction, never mind anything that even somewhat resembled a relationship. But now, on Pabu with no more battles to fight, the rest of his life stretched out before him, he would be lying if he hadn’t thought about more with greater frequency lately. If your smile had been filling his dreams lately, well, that he would keep to himself. 

“How are they feeling?” You asked, clearly unaware of what your comment had done to him. 

“Better,” Hunter replied, which this time, was not a lie, “You might be a miracle worker,” His ribs, while not fully healed, felt so much better than they had before. The salve and tea had done wonders, he almost felt normal again. Or at the very least like he could get back to carrying things. 

You smiled at him but the sheepish nature of it had him raising his brow questioningly, “Well, I don’t know about miracle worker. It was probably the rest. I roped Omega, Shep, and Phee into making sure you took it easy.”

Their sudden increase in concern and pestering despite him denying any need for help suddenly made a lot more sense. He frowned at you, “I knew that was suspicious.” 

You laughed which did something to him, “I’ll gladly take the credit though. Can I take a look?”

Still reeling from the sound of your laughter he nodded, pulling the tunic off quickly as his face heated once again. You were once again nothing but professional as you examined him, having him repeat the same deep breaths you had early in the week. Meanwhile, he had to count back from 100 to try and keep his mind off of the feeling of your hands on him. 

As your hands ghosted over a particular spot on his ribs he couldn’t help but flinch, a quick hiss of air escaping his lips before he could stop it. 

You froze, hand hovering over his skin as you looked up at him with concern. You were so close that he could see every fleck of colour in your eyes, could hear your heart beating, strong and steady in your chest. Your scent was nearly overwhelming, and he wanted desperately at that moment to close the distance between the two of you.

“Pain?” You asked, breaking him from his thoughts. 

He shook his head, “Cold.” 

“Sorry, it was a pretty chilly swim this morning,” You answered with a shy smile before you placed your hand back on him. He shivered at the contact while trying to remind himself that this was a professional setting and that kissing you would be decidedly unprofessional.  

“It’s ok,” Hunter said, and then because apparently his mouth wasn’t on the same page as his mind, “I don’t mind, feels good actually.” 

At this distance, he didn’t miss the way your cheeks flushed slightly or the way your heart rate picked up a notch. It was thrilling, he thought, to know he had at least some effect on you. 

You continued your examination quietly for another moment before you stepped back. An impressed look on your face as you did so, “It’s really incredible how fast you guys heal. You look so much better.”

Another byproduct, with their advanced aging it meant their cells regenerated much faster than average. Quicker maturity and healing with the cost of half the lifespan. 

“Do you still have some of the tea and salve left?” You asked as he pulled his shirt back on. 

“Yeah, about half I would say,” Hunter replied, “It really did seem to make a difference.”

“They both contain a natural painkiller that we’re able to grow here on the island. It’s the main ingredient in bacta, actually," You answered, “I’d keep up with the tea and the salve for the rest of the week. And keep resting, it looks like you’ll be ok in a few days but take it easy. I don’t want you back here because you’ve re-injured yourself. Not that I mind your company, but I’d prefer these visits to be on a non-professional basis.”

Hunter sighed, not liking the idea of staying idle when there was still a lot to be done. He needed to help Rex, the other clones, and never mind the whole house situation. But he wasn’t so stubborn that he couldn’t listen to medical advice, especially not when it actually was making a difference. He followed after you out into your living room, resigned to his fate. His mind however was turning over your last comment, you actually liked his company. Which was, admittedly surprising since he couldn’t seem to string more than a few words together anytime he was around you. 

He paused near your door, his gaze casting around your warm and bright space, a conversation he’d had with Omega earlier suddenly at the forefront of his mind, “Your home is very nicely decorated,” The words felt awkward coming out of his mouth and he instantly cringed. But if you thought he was weird you made no indication of it. 

Instead, you simply smiled at him brightly, “Thank you.” 

“Do you… have any tips? For, uh - decorating?” He asked, his voice stilted as his face began to heat up. He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly as he forged on, “Omega wants to decorate our home and uh… I don’t really know…how?”

Your gaze was so warm that it didn’t help the fluttering in his chest. Your look was completely judgment-free despite it being honestly a ridiculous question, “Well, I don’t really know if I have any tips… I just pick things that speak to me.”

He stared at you blankly, “Speak to you…”

You laughed, the sound once again making him feel as if he were having a mini-heart attack, “Sorry, I guess that does sound pretty silly, but here-” you said as you walked towards one of the tapestries you had hanging on the wall behind your couch. You looked at him for a moment with an easy smile before you gestured to it, “What do you see when you look at this?”

“Uh…” He started then stopped, looking between you and the tapestry, “Blue?”

You laughed again and he was surprised at the soft bark of laughter that escaped him too, it really was ridiculous, “Ok, maybe I started off with too hard of a question” You said, continuing with a soft chuckle. He watched you closely as you turned your head back to look at it, a wistful expression overtaking your face, “When I look at it, the colours remind me of the ocean. The very first time I saw it I had the same feeling I get when I look out at the sea and I decided I wanted to get that feeling even when I’m in my home.” 

He looked back at the tapestry and its multiple shades of blues and whites woven together, it was quite nice. And the longer he looked at it he supposed he could see how the colours were similar to the ocean, “Oh, uh, yah.”

“Did you ever have posters up in your barracks or ship? Or see art or a picture that maybe you feel something?” You asked, amusement colouring your face. 

A wave of embarrassment rushed through him, “Well yah, but uh - I don’t think that’s very appropriate for a house with a kid in it.” The scantily clad picture of Senator Amidala that had once adorned the nose of The Marauder before General Skywalker got wind of it was the first thing that came to mind. 

You chuckled, “Ok, yes, maybe not like that. But obviously, there was something about those posters that you liked... some sort of feeling you got when you looked at them…”

“Arousal?” He teased before he could stop himself. He immediately felt embarrassed by his inability to keep his mouth shut but it seemed he didn’t need to worry about that. 

Your head tipped back as you laughed and your hand came up to rest on his arm, as if to steady yourself while you did so. A small thrill rushed through him at the sound. It had been a long time since he had made someone other than Omega laugh like that. 

“I walked right into that answer,” You said once your laughter had died down, “Let me correct myself, we’re looking for a different emotion.. happy, calm, peace, joy… something along those lines.”

“This all sounds a lot more difficult than I was expecting,” Hunter replied with a gruff chuckle. 

You laughed again as you squeezed his bicep gently, “Try not to overthink it, when you know, you’ll know.” 

“Sure…” He said, though what he wanted to say was that it all sounded like a load of poodoo to him. 

Clearly, his skepticism was showing because you chuckled again as your hand moved from his arm, “How about this, every few months we host a market on the island where all the bakers, crafters, makers, artists, anyone and everyone get together to trade and sell their wears. It’s in a few weeks, how about we go, you bring Omega, and maybe the three of us can find some things that speak to you?” 

“Ok,” Hunter agreed before he even fully processed what you had proposed. 

“Great,” You said with another beaming smile, “It’s a date.” 

Hunter felt everything inside of him freeze, his brain short-circuiting, “It’s a date,” He found himself repeating so quickly that embarrassment coloured his face. 

Your answering smile was worth every painful moment he’d ever experienced in his short life as the two of you walked towards the front door. You leaned casually against the door frame once Hunter had passed through, arms crossed over your chest, expression warm, “Great. See you later, Hunter. And remember, take care of those ribs.” 

He nodded, not trusting himself to say something else ridiculous before he left, giving you a quick wave over his shoulder as he headed back up the hill toward his own home. 

He still might not like medical treatment or know anything about decorating. But he had a much better idea of what spoke to him. Now, he just had to figure out what one actually did on a real date. 

[philistiniphagottini]

Hiii can I please request number 7 + Blade? I really enjoy the way you write him. Thank you if you end up doing this!

Thank you for the ask Anon. I appreciate you telling me that you enjoy the way I write Blade, he's my current favourite character and I'd love it if people wanted to talk to me more about him. I hope you enjoy. Comments/reblogs greatly appreciated.

cw. light angst, hurt/comfort, mentions of blood, gender neutral reader, chubby reader, minors DO NOT interact

7. Lightly kissing on top of a freshly formed bruise.

Prompts

Your room smelled of disinfectant and medicinal salves. It clogged your nose when you breathed deep, a pinch forming between your furrowed brow as you slowly and meticulously wrap fresh bandages around Blade’s exposed bicep. You had to discard his jacket, the material slashed and tattered laying in a bloody heap long forgotten on the floor as you gave your undivided attention to Blade. 

He thinks it's a wasted effort but he lets you do as you please. His free hand is resting in your lap, fingers lazily curled into your thigh until the soft skin squished beneath his touch. You feel incredibly warm beneath the tips of his fingers as he stared at you, absentmindedly watching you work patch up his wounds. Wounds that would naturally heal themselves, just another chip on his scarred and haggard body. Your attentiveness wasn’t needed when he was cursed to constantly heal but you always kicked up a fuss whenever he returned to you in a bloody heap, supporting fresh wounds and a tired look in his eyes. 

It was a little awkward for you shuffling around Blade as you worked. You were practically, almost in his lap as you hovered over him on the bed, the sheets already drying with flakes of blood and whatever else Blade had dragged in the door with him. The sheets needed to be changed as soon as you got the chance. The stench of decay and death was particularly strong on him today. It almost made you blanch. The tips of your fingers grazed the top of his bicep as you finished wrapping the bandage around him, your lips pressed into a tight, thin line as a pensive frown plagued your facade. You eventually had to stuff your bottom lip between the pinch of your teeth to stop it from quivering as you blinked rapidly to dispel the wetness clinging to the edges of your thick lashes. 

“Don’t give me that look” Blade said, his quiet murmur cutting through the thick silence. 

You released your bruised lip from between your teeth as your gaze now flickered up to his face, his piercing red stare causing a shiver to creep along the notches of your spine. You sniffled softly, unshed crystalline tears still vehemently beading at the corners of your eyes and making your vision a little blurry. 

“What look?” you asked as you reached for another bottle of medicinal salve. 

Blade gently caught your wrist before you could grab it, preventing you from swiping it off the little bedside table nestled close to you. Your hand started to shake and he could feel the tremble of your pulse when he pressed his fingers into your wrist. You peered up at him beneath the hood of your lashes as they fluttered over your round cheeks. 

“That look” Blade said. “Sadness doesn’t suit you.”

Something tugged on your heart strings. You were sad because of him. Because it hurt you to see his body so battered and bruised. It hurt you whenever he said you were wasting your time patching him up. He would naturally regenerate, such was his curse. It was barely a comforting thought. Too many bad thoughts plagued your head like a persistent swarm of insects, their buzzing incessant and never ceasing no matter how many times you tried to swat them away. You took a shuddering breath.

“It brings me no joy seeing you in pain.”

Tears threatened to spill down your cheeks and before they could, Blade was drawing you into his lap. You complained at first, not wanting your weight to hurt him in any way but he batted away your protests. He coiled his arms around your plump waist, giving your soft stomach a gentle squeeze as you were coddled in his lap, your thick thighs falling beside his as you were forced to sit on top of him. It felt a little ridiculous. He was the patient, not you. Blade wasn’t good with words. He didn’t know how to tell you not to worry. He couldn’t weave words like countless others he knew could. He lacked tact when it came to delicate matters and he knew his blunt words were only going to cause you further distress. You didn’t treat him like a weapon, the way he believed he deserved to be treated. You were too kind and soft hearted. You have no reason to be so close to him, when his sharp edges could cut into your soft skin and hurt you. Yet, you give your kindness to him so freely and easily, despite one wrong whisper of the mara threatening to creep in. He could hurt you. But you knew he wouldn’t. He’d rather fall on his sword than intentionally hurt you, mara or not. 

You hid your tear stained face from his sight, lips pressed to the purple and red bruises forming over his skin as they bled into his skin. These too would fade soon and the press of your plush lips was the healing balm. Blade slowly rubbed his hands along your back, his calloused fingers aching when he smoothed them against your pillowy soft skin. You were so incredibly soft and warm it was already lulling him into a state of peace. He can feel your salty tears wet his skin and it only makes him squeeze your soft waist harder. 

“Blade, can you please be a little more careful?” you softly requested. “If not for your sake, then for mine?”

He’s not sure you know what you’re asking of him. The way you had worded it, he’s unsure if it was intentional or not. Because it was exceedingly hard for Blade to refuse a request from you. Not when you ask it in such a sticky sweet voice that he can feel it rotting on the back of his teeth when you say his name like that. He was rough and sharp around the edges but only you were able to soften it up and dull it. You made him feel like he wanted to be good. Only wanted to be good just for you. No one else. Your skin squishes under his touch as his large, scarred hands touch your soft stomach, a soft hum stirring in the back of his throat as you plant another soft kiss on his bruises. 

“Just for you” he replied. 

He didn’t elaborate further and you hoped it was a promise he was going to keep. It brought a little smile to your face as you wrapped your arms around Blade’s neck, hugging him closer to your body as you tangled your hands in the baby hairs lining the nape of his neck. For now, it was enough.

[genderqueerdykes]

I thought the only one that can have wrist pain is adults with job, but I'm still a teenager and already have it. It got to the point that I can't draw or write for days and it frustrated me. I don't want to be an attention seeker to my parents so i want to know your opinion on it.

anyone can be experiencing pain for whatever reason, it doesn't matter what age you are, you can sprain or injure yourself quite easily on accident. injuries and pains don't have to be from repetitive stress, it can also come from sudden trauma, inflammation around your joints, connective tissue problems and so on. if you aren't able to get the pain to go away after stretching, applying heat and/or cold, resting it, etc. and it persists, it's definitely worth telling someone about, because the normal amount of pain to be in is none!

it's really sad that people make each other feel like attention seekers for needing medical assistance. why do people think those jobs are so plentiful and high paying? it's because they take care of people, they're very busy, they are working very hard for a lot of different people in a lot of different situations. most people end up needing to go to the doctor many times throughout their lives for a variety of reasons and it's so normal. it's okay to want to get checked up, you never know.

especially when you're still physically maturing, things may not be setting into place or growing correctly, or you may be showing symptoms of a condition that is developing. it's always best to be safe, in my book. i've ignored things that i thought were nothing and then it turned out to be very serious. we're all taught to do that. but medical services are there to be used. biology is very strange and human bodies mess up in a lot of ways. i hope that helps, good luck, stay safe out there

[ezrazwrldz]

abstragedy week day 2!

confession

gangle’s pov!

this is it..! today’s the day i tell zooble just how i feel. the complete, honest truth. ragatha and pomni both seem convinced that they’re into me too, but honestly..? why would they be? they’re so cool and smart and strong and kind.. and i’m just me. it feels hopeless. but i promised i’d try. and what better way to try other than art?

i grab my pencils and sketchpad, and start sketching away. they’re the one i like drawing most out of all my friends. their simple shapes make it easy to break down and simplify, and i can add whatever limbs i like-! i can even design new ones, and i love that type of creative freedom. though, this time, it seems like each and every attempt i make isn’t good enough. their eyes too far apart, head too small.. nothing looks right. nothing feels like it’s right for zooble. it’s not perfect enough..!

eventually, i put my equipment down, a small stifled sob leaving me. and another. and another. more and more, until i completely break down in tears, trembling a little from how hard i’m crying. i just wanted this to be right for them.. for it to be perfect. they deserve that, no matter how much they tell me they love how i draw them. there’s a look in their eyes, a look of distance and longing. as if they want something more, something different. and i want to be the one to give them what they want, even if i don’t exactly know what that is.

i recollect myself, stepping outside my room and heading to the grounds, which i know they’re hanging out at. talking to ragatha, as she promised she’d distract them whilst i got my art ready. but, i don’t have a drawing to give them. only words of pure, genuine love.

“..zooble..? can i talk to you.?” i ask, stammering. i don’t dare to look them in the eyes, as if simply that would give away my intentions. irregardless, they met me with that familiar cool kindness.

“hey, gangle, what’s up?” they ask. despite not having a mouth, i could see a smile on their eyes, a smile that was truly glad to see me. they were happy to see me. this was the norm, but every time i still got those familiar butterflies in my stomach, that joy of someone as cool and unbothered as them being truly happy to see me.

i take a few deep breaths, bracing myself for what im about to confess. “..ithinkiminlovewithyou- like, ever since the day we first met you’ve done nothing but be so, so, so kind and honest to me and just- you’re perfect- i love you so, so, so, so , so much- and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, i’ll understand-“ i ramble, only managing to put my hand over my mouth after everything had spilled out. oh, no…

i finally look up at them, being met with soft, wide eyes. “oh- uh- i don’t know what to say-“ they begin, causing my heart to stop and stomach drop. but what they said next changed my world: “..i love you too, gangle. i don’t know why i didn’t tell you sooner.. but, yeah. i love you.”

i immediately squeal and envelop them in a hug of pure love and joy. they’ve never exactly been a great hugger, but i don’t mind.

i love them no matter what.

[emilyblame]

these are very old drawings. and they're actually from the Trench era but whatever, they look kinda cool.

Vessel has been out in the world for 12 years today. 12 years. fuck, 12 years is a fucking lifetime. it feels surreal knowing that this was one of the albums that saved my life back in 2016 when i was at my lowest and now i'm… fine... mostly. hahaha. no, it's been good, i swear. it's been good for a while now, counting up to years, which is surreal all on its own to be honest, but that's a conversation for another day.

12 years. damn. 12 years and 'Migraine' is still my favorite song from it. although, to be honest, it's my favorite song from the band, so, does it actually count? i don't think there are good enough words in any language that can describe how important this album is to me (and to so many others, i'm sure). but aside from the fact that these songs hug my brain, my heart, and my soul everytime i listen to them, what i love most about this album is that the songs i resonate with change constantly. lately, i've been really loving 'The Run And Go' which i never cared for before, but now i listen to it and i think it's fucking brilliant. i find myself being excited for it to come up every time.

but all in all, there's not a bad song on this album. it's unapologetically weird and loud and feels like it's all over the place, but it actually isn't, and i love it so, so much. it will always be important to me, no matter how much time passes by. and if it's also important to you, don't forget that the game is not played alone.

[wtfforged]

my campaign hiatus has gone on for too long so to cope ive combined my interests at their maximum potency and had some dnd-strawhats thoughts

thoughts in depth under read more... :)!

this is SO self indulgent. their designs literally did not change. but i am a firm believer that dnd doesnt have to be european high fantasy. and also one piece literally IS fantasy. no changes are necessary to fit into dnd. ive already imagined plenty of campaign/oneshot ideas inspired by one piece. so this was basically just an exercise of trying to replicate their canon abilities in dnd 5e as much as possible without totally homebrewing everything. well. aside from luffy. you just cant take away or change his stretching.

LUFFY: (human monk. drunken master subclass. outlander)

the only plain human of the crew to balance out with the fact that he still has rubber powers. obviously a monk. but drunken master subclass specifically because i think the flavor(not the fact that its about being a drunkard) and abilities both fit him really well. this line in the subclass' flavortext especially fits him: "A drunken master often enjoys playing the fool to bring gladness to the despondent or to demonstrate humility to the arrogant, but when battle is joined, the drunken master can be a maddening, masterful foe."

ZORO: (tiefling fighter. samurai subclass. bounty hunter)

a fighter with the samurai subclass is so very incredibly obvious... but i actually had a lot of fun geeking out while comparing the abilities to what he can do in canon; Fighting Spirit, Rapid Strike, and Strength Before Death especially! tiefling is also pretty on the nose for his demon pirate hunter shtick and asura form, but i thought he'd be really human-passing for a tiefling and theorized about his tail getting cut off at some point or another before joining the strawhats. initially wasnt gonna give him a feat, but i gave sanji a feat so i thought itd be unfair to not give him one as well, so sentinel fits the bill pretty well i think!

NAMI: (tabaxi rogue. arcane trickster subclass. criminal)

cat burglar -> full grown literal humanoid cat. this one is INCREDIBLY self indulgent... i love... cats... theres nothing deeper to this and no other reasoning. i took cat burglar and ran with it. can you tell that i love izutsumi dungeon meshi? rogue for the aforementioned burglar-ing as well, and the arcane trickster subclass for when she picks up climatact! the mage hand will be very useful for her pickpocketing. in the future as she levels up with timeskip, i can totally see her multiclassing into wizard as well! weather wizard!

USOPP: (lightfoot halfling artificer. artillerist subclass. urchin)

I HAD SO MUCH FUN THINKING ABOUT HIS CHARACTER SHEET. halfling's Naturally Stealthy ability lets him hide behind his crewmates since theyre (almost) all bigger than him, so its perfect for hiding behind zoro or sanji all the time. Lucky is also perfect for him, and I think Brave fits pretty well too when he puts on the sogeking mask. artillerist artificer is also very fun! tinkering and making magic items for his crew, and i think Eldritch Canon or Arcane Firearm could both be easily reflavored as kabuto or any of his inventions. for emphasizing his sniper-ness, the spell sniper feat was also necessary. i think hes my favorite of all the concepts. big ears and long nose combo is so cute to me.

SANJI: (half-elf monk. drunken master subclass. guild artisan (cook!))

race was mostly based on vibes i wont lie. squints. and that vinsmoke balogna or whatever too ig. but mostly vibes. along with the idea that i think a dwarf zeff raising him would be really funny and cute. monk is also obvious, and same subclass as luffy for mostly the same reasons. though the flavor fits him much less, i think the abilities still fit him perfectly, and this blurb specifically; "Your martial arts technique mixes combat training with the precision of a dancer." i really wanted to give him a different subclass from luffy, but i dislike all the other monk subclasses a lot and i found none of them fit him as well anyways, so to try and give them SOME differences, i gave him the crusher feat.

CHOPPER: (awakened deer(shifter statblock) cleric. life subclass. hermit)

this ones definitely a mouthful im sorry. awakened deer for obvious reasons, but due to magic instead of devil fruit stuff. when i was struggling with his race, i looked a lot at shifter because of his forms, but it occurred to me that itd be super cool if he could shift between all of the different shifter options instead of being stuck with just one to replicate his rumble balls. something like heavy point/guard point=beasthide, horn point/arm point(?maybe?)=longtooth, walk point/jumping point=swiftstride, and brain point=wildhunt. hed definitely need some kind of nerf though to balance out that homebrew... and cleric for class. duh.

ROBIN: (high elf wizard. order of scribes subclass. criminal)

robin is definitely the one i struggled the most with just because of her class. elf came pretty easily- shes very elegant and i think shed look cute with super long ears- and i landed on high elf instead of wood elf for the int-based abilities. i was really on the fence between sorcerer and wizard for her because i knew shed be a full spellcaster, but i didnt feel that any of the subclasses really fit her. i ended up going with wizard for order of the scribes since it focuses on texts and knowing everything. but also because robin with a flying talking sentient book would be crazy cool. it could also be similar to how she spawns mouths and eyes places to talk to or watch people. my "fuck it, why not. this would be rad. its my house" mindset kicked in with her i will admit. also the One with the Word ability made me cackle out loud when i read it. thats the funniest ability ever. anyways, i cant really think of a way to replicate her powers, but maybe we could just reflavor a bunch of spells to be her limbs or clutch; hold person, maximillian's earthen grasp, or evard's black tentacles. thatd probably work okay, and theres a handful of spells to replicate her ability to spawn eyes or mouths. unrelated, but i imagine nico olvia to be a drow. why? her hair is white. i am a simple man!

[equill]

Sukea stuff

Extra: realization

It’s been a while

Panel 1: smile

Comic 2: Caught red handed

you’re his son

Extra: conversation

he just picking on him

Comic 3: You’re grounded.

[archerdepartures116]

I just wanna say, your Mass Transmigration Au is a fckin masterpiece. I will help you hide a body istg

Aha TYSMMM!!!

Now that finals are almost over and all my assignments are finished, I have time to start drawing more comics

[erasinglines]

where did they go from here? he didn’t have an answer for that. now that he thinks about it, he never has. all they’ve been doing is taking it day-by-day, doing whatever they could within their power to just figure it out. neither were perfect at it, in fact, miller’s been entirely flawed in this process, clinging to whatever remnants were still between them, no matter how crumbled and shattered they had become. it’s better than not trying, he thinks— to have allowed the physical distance, the pain of seeing her with someone else, get the better of him. would rather fight everyday, tooth and nail, to remain in her life, if that’s where she wanted him. he would do anything she asked. and of course he wishes this had all been different for them; that he’d found a job locally, instead, that he’d fought harder when she insisted that he just go, aim to reach dreams that came to fruition, that only ever felt possible, because of her. it wasn’t the cards they’d been dealt, though, and that’s a painful truth he’ll always have to live with, the ache if it radiating in his chest, cracking his ribcage. at least, now, they were both willing to make this work, as best they could, no matter how confusing, how difficult, it’s all become. that’s why there’s relief twining into the smile that tugs at his mouth— at least they had this, here, time spent together, grounding them in a moment that will soon be lost. “ i always want you around, too— there’s never been a day when that hasn’t been in the case. ” there never would be, either. and even if his desires run much deeper than that, even if he isn’t entirely sure he can only be her friend, he chooses not to speak on it, knowing how much damage he’s already done, tonight. “ and i’ll try to not make things too hard on you, hm? even if i can’t help it… not sure what you want me to do when it comes to just standing, but i’ll do it. i’ll even learn to keep my mouth shut— maybe they can be my new year’s resolutions. ” he teases, corners of his mouth only lifting until it’s a full-pledged grin, across his countenance. it’s safe here, again, this space between them, which only emboldens him all the more, turning his hand until he can lace their fingers together, feeling the jolts of electricity that course between them. “ i happen to like your unfiltered thoughts, though, ” even if they’re hard to hear. “ actually, maybe that should be one of your resolutions; think i want to hear more of them. ” because this streak of honesty, as difficult as it has been to hear, at least meant he knew where they stood. and he hears it at the same time she does, the echoes of voices inside, counting down to the start of a new year. it cuts him off from saying that he always wants her, always has, and he doesn’t know if that’ll ever go away. he doesn’t make any effort to move from this spot, though, gaze soft, knowing, as he traces the contours of her face, all the parts of her that he has memorised. “ yeah, we probably should… fletcher will be looking for you too, right? probably freaking out that he’s lost sight of you. ” his words aren’t bitter either, the strain of their night dissipating with each moment that passes. his gaze ends up at her lips eventually, drawing around their outline, a small step closer without thinking twice about it, free hand reaching for her hip, fingers splayed along it’s most prominent part, 3, 2, 1…

despite their harsh words and jilted whispers to each other tonight, at least one good thing came from it— their newfound honesty with each other. it wasn’t easier, per say, to know these things about each other and their respective relationships, to hear how unhappy they both were with a new partner, but she can’t deny how relieved she feels to know it’s not one-sided, that neither of them could really let go of the other, no matter how hard they try, or who they find themselves with. it seemed impossible, really, considering just how ingrained he is in her soul, in every fiber of her being. it had always been like that, since the moment they met; almost as if it was meant to be this way, that he was the only one who was ever capable of filling that empty space inside of her. it’s just another reason why she hates that he ever questioned it, that he entertained the thought that her and fletcher’s relationship was better than what they had, based on some lie she spewed just to rile him up in a moment of weakness. even then, she wouldn’t blame him if he couldn’t forgive her for it, if she somehow ruined this, that day, and in all the moments since, without even realizing it. but once she sees him step closer to her, too, and hears the timbre of his laughter, real and warm, not torn from the darker parts of his chest, that worry begins to slip away, replaced by something that some might consider even more dangerous— hope. hope that things would change for the better from this moment onward, that they would maintain their honesty with each other and no longer fall into the trap of miscommunication and jealousy. they could be mature about this, couldn’t they ? only time would tell. “ of course i want you around, miller. i always want you around, ” she smiles softly, looking up at him in earnest, knowing that he would never purposefully hurt her— it’s something she thought about a few weeks ago, too, looking up at him, seeing the love and tenderness in his eyes as their bodies intertwined, knowing that she was always safe with him. “ but yeah, actually, you have made things super hard on me— it’s cruel and unusual punishment to see you across the room, looking like you do, and know that i can’t touch you like i want, ” it’s spoken teasingly, attempting to drain even more of their previous poison from this conversation, attempt to start anew, entirely.  “ i haven’t been very fair on you, either— i actually think i’ve probably been the fucking worst, with all the stupid shit i say. i don’t think i have a filter, with you, and i definitely should, ” she chuckles, soon pausing then, to reach out for his hand, running her thumb against his. just a simple touch to ground her in the moment. “ but we’ll start over, and if you still want me here, then i’ll be here. however you want me. ” if they couldn’t be more, she would take whatever she could get. it’s only seconds later when she hears the noise of the bar rise past the brick— the countdown to midnight was happening now. “ shit, we should probably go back inside, hm ? eden’s probably looking for you. ” and it’s not spoken with any previous jealousy or malice, but concern, afraid that this might cause more strain, despite not making any sudden movements away from him. 

[hinamie]

took 3 tries but i think i am finally free of korra plagiarism in yuuji's water tribe design

jjk atla!au with @philosophiums

[arsmentae]

manifesting unapologetic weirdness for myself for 2025🙏🙏🙏🙏

[keydekyie]

"Hello there, do you know the way to Widewater? Oh, don't mind my companion. He's just shy."