#made a shitty gif using a free site

[kittyoverlord]

Has similar energy to:

[frindoka]

my art timeline :-)

hi! i’m making this because i was inspired by maxpawb’s post i saw on toyhouse , which then led me to look at all my own art that is still somehow intact in my storage. this only details stuff from when i started posting online, not from when i started drawing traditionally as a wee lad. partially because my sketchbooks are lost and partially because i never really wrote down dates on my art to begin with.

a lot of dates are lost, due to the aforementioned problem of me not writing things down.. and also i have awful dissociative memory problems so there’s way too many gaps in my life. but i really did want to do this to see how much i could find & how much i could recollect.

content warning for VERY brief mentions of grooming, as well as minor mentions of real shitty friends

everything is under the cut! there might be another rb if or when i hit the image limit. curse you, tumblr.

date: ??? , i had to be around like. 11 at the time

this was when i joined warriors amino and i deleted my account because i got in trouble for having social media, LMAO. i eventually came back with a new one though. this is probably one of the only surviving art pieces from when i was THIS YOUNG, everything’s on an ipad that’s so broken it won’t even charge

i learned how to use the smudge tool on ibispaint at this time and thought i was the coolest bitch on the block for my blending

may 2019, i was like 12

my return to amino (and brief period on deviantart, which i never used again lmao) i was specifically on wings of fire amino + warriors amino. i was obsessed with airbrush shading.

this is one of my first fursonas which was a wings of fire fanflight called kitsunewings or smth. and also my first species character (he predated the dragon), a bayfox, which was drawn in krita. i never used krita again after this. coincidentally, i was also never active in bayfoxes after submitting him.

i crawled back to ibispaint no matter how many new free programs i tried.. (also tried firealpaca once. i couldn’t even figure out how to draw a line…)

may 2019, 12

the rise of my longest lasting fursona. she got stolen on a shitty app called anime maker once. i can’t remember if she’s older than the dragon, andromeda, but her older iterations definitelt are. this character was just the FIRST first fursona that i actually called that, since i didn’t even really know what a furry was at first

june 2019, 12

my first commission that i sold for like 30 deviantart points (i only used the site for commission purposes, as mentioned before i never really used it lmao)

also i tried to make a closed species on wings of fire amino. second image. it was terribly stressful ; this was around the time i met my longest lasting group of friends (hi freak bin! 5 years <3) and.. some of the worst people i’ve ever met in my life at the same time, LMAOOO

also here’s this kokichi ouma dog i made before i even knew what danganronpa was. i would find out much later, unfortunately

march 2020, still 12 (cause of my august birthday 😒)

there’s a really big gap in my files here. sad! my art kicks into gear at this point tbh, i like how i did the lines. wish i had the energy for such clean lineart still :-(

i think around this time i lost contact with the people who were my groomers (which i would realize later) and i’m thankful that i don’t even remember what their names are.

april 2020 - july 2020, 12

okay these aren’t awful actually. HOW WAS MY ART SO DETAILED. i admire baby frets power, jesus christ

i also did a design raffle when i hit 500 amino followers which is still the most i’ve ever gotten as a following. pretty crazy, i wonder who owns this dude now, i still think they’re cute

august 2020, 13

wow i’m 13 now look at that. i had to go digging for this one, only one i could find that was remotely close to my birthday (it’s the 25th!) this was a drawing for my friend bea lol

was still friends with some pretty shitty people from wings of fire amino, and it was really taking a toll on me. i don’t remember drawing as often as i used to during that time because of all of that.

december 2020, 13

i wish i could still draw backgrounds.. i need more practice

january 2021, 13

okay honestly these are really cute. i don’t know wtf kind of motivation i had for this much detail. the shading is pretty damn good

april 2021, 13

still going strong with the shading and backgrounds. not much to say around this time either lol. the first one is an older design of mine, but they’re pretty damn cute.. i wonder what happens to the desgins i lose track of? but ik this guy has a toyhouse profile i just refuse to look through my like. 200 pages of character designs on there…

july 2021, 13

PUDDLE! PUDDLE OH HOW I MISS YOU. my original favorite oc, i got so much art of him & drew him so much he reached 100 pieces in less than a month. i also met my best friend through this dude.

my art got.. blocky? here? idk what i was doing with all of that but it lasts for a while. lol

october 2021, 14

one year older and i got neo twewy for my birthday and it changed my life permanently. in several ways. anyhow, here’s frindoka furries.. they live in my files forever and will never b drawn again because they got redesigned several more times LOLLLLL

this is the month after i broke off permanently from my shitty old friends, with support of some other friends of mine. thank you guys… i did proceed to get harassed and made paranoid over my text messages by the shitty friends cause they were mad i got one of them banned from a furry adopts server for being literally dangerous. i do know it was them bc it was admitted to & they were some of the only people i gave my phone number to. i was kind of dumb for that

i was happy after my birthday because 13 was one of the worst years of my life. literal constant spirals and breakdowns because this is when i realize i was, in fact, groomed. i’m well and handling it better now.

january 2022, 14

my first d&d character, the mark of my eventual spiral into heath insanity… shadow how i miss you. i ended up redesigning them later on

march 2022, 14

i got into a pokemon arpg around this time and it took over my life for MONTHSSSS. kind of a shitty community in it though, but i appreciate how it improved my artwork. i’m back at the backgrounds! it’s shut down indefinitely now. rip eeveemporium

april 2022, 14

I FOT BACK INTO WAKFUUUU😭😭😭 also got pretty comfortable in my identity as a transgender nonbinary person, but i would get MORE comfortable about my identity later on :-)

this is going to be continued in a reblog because i did, in fact, hit the image limit. oopsie daisies

[rico-tyrell]

Please do not reupload my GIFs to this site without permission. I will respond to it and have it taken down, and I will make future watermarks uglier.

GIFs are made from my own gameplay.

Full Time: Dog Groomer Hobbies: High Magic, Video Games, Anime Music: Techno, Metal

Tumblr is my only active social media and this account is subject to selfie posting.

My activity does fluctuate among all blogs.

Priorities:

@dark-falz

@the-carnival-of-time

This blog and @the-dark-magicians are likely to stop posting before these two. Hiatuses will be announced on the main 2 blogs when/if the time comes.

Here is a reference page of stuff I've done

Blog Details

All media posts are queued, personal posts are not queued.

Strobe-like & strong motion GIFs are tagged as #flashing. Please feel free to let me know if you'd like me to use others. You're also welcome to let me know if I skipped tagging a post as such that you believe should be tagged. (I do not have eyestrain issues to my knowledge so its extremely easy for me to miss tagging something I should and I apologize for this)

While this is an aesthetic based blog, I do try to keep to mostly interests I am familiar with.

I will reblog from my side blogs often

I DNI with: - Minors (includes age-play) - Generally bad / shitty peace-disturbing people (anti lgbtq, racists, etc) - Overly political blogs (I come here to be at peace, away from the real world) - NSFW blogs (my last account was shadow banned repeatedly, I'd like to take my chances with my own content instead, if at all.)

Request Info:

Will do

Any MP4 file

Editing

Resolution scaling (backgrounds)

Available Games (cant do like Cyberpunk 2077 best graphics type shit but I can fake it in editing)

Lewds/Porn

Large sets

Keep footage for atleast 1 year (reposter removal purposes)

Will not

Allow GIFs to be re/posted by anyone but who requested

Watermark (unless requested)

Just become a member on my Patreon! All tiers get free access to the phone background shop!

($5 USD for request tier)

[aquaburst3]

Ao3 is back, bitches!

Props to all of the volunteers who worked tirelessly to get the site back online. I can't thank you guys enough.

I also don't ever want to see any antis and other dipshits bashing the site again. This site is important to a lot of us. We're extremely lucky to have it. Similar websites have gone down or were censored before, and we lost a lot of content. (Looks over at LiveJournal.) The site going down forever is more of a real possibility than what some of you want to believe, especially with KOSA. If you don't like certain stories, just block/mute the author and move on.

Same goes for any islamophobes attacking anyone over the false claim the hackers made. A group of Russian hackers were behind it only for the money. Hell, Ao3 even debunked it. Bashing a minority group who aren't behind it is extremely shitty. Even if it was a Muslim hacker group behind it, attacking a minority group for the actions of a few is also shitty. If I catch anyone doing that, I will block on sight as well.

Engage with the fics you enjoy and thank your favourite fic authors far more. I work hard on my fics. Comments and kudos keep me going. Even comments that offer up constructive criticism (not hateful ones) are helpful for me to know where to improve in my writing. I think a lot of other writers feel the same. Again, the site went down for one fucking day, and people went batshit for stories we write for free. Show it.

[species-id]

Mod here, this is a anon group owned blog where anon things are submitted.

Us : checking notifs

Ppl claiming a stock image website is pushing an exclusive anti alterhuman agenda: oh deer

this is in no offense to the websites maker. but I think a disclaimer needs to be made. I'm gonna have a professional side, but also an unhinged side. So in my professional voice I'll say. No free stock image website is pushing an exclusionary agenda. Why are yall sounding like....

This is where my mother, defender of baby queerios, Begins. Buckle up if you want some fun, the defense of the unserious search of identity, life, and maybe some funny stock images.

The replies are So funny bc yall are claiming this definition is trying to fix something or talk over you when it isn't. Like wtf bro. It's a free website with no press and free stock images.

"If you don't like alterhuman then don't use it "

Anon to the resource blog: OK I made another term for anyone to use. submitted it to resource page. Here's a free website or whatever this is for anyone that resonates. ANYONE THAT RESONATES.

Comments: "stop trying to fix what isn't broken and pressing things on ppl, stop excluding ppl for ur comfort dont remake it."

Well, stop telling ppl that theyre doing actual nefarious things like actively excluding people based on a niche blog ? Remaking it? Why yall like a similar term erases another? Yeah, It just sounds like yall think every general umbrella term made is an attack on yours. I assure you it's not. It's not just yall though. It's an alternate flag, sign ect. Gets this treatment. It's literally just a post on how someone defines alter being. Sometimes we post a flag or two.... To me alter being is the a different way of being in the world than normally accepted. It includes all that alterhuman does. Simple as that for me. FOR ME. every reply here is stating their view of this website as "yes i know this is what exactly they meant" but I've seen it defined differently the same way I've seen so many renditions of EVERY other term.

I could go off and say theria- from theirans means theria as in placental mammals and therefore exclusive to reptile therians. Theyre making an exclusive term against reptiles. Thats how y'all be sounding.

And on the other side of that..you know what if a reptile feels that way about it they have all the rights to say they aren't a therian if it bothers them so much.

They'll use something else (whatever they want) and won't bother you. It's not that serious. But what is serious is accusing ppl making new terms as an exclusive agenda against one you think is better. Because it makes ppl afraid to speak their mind about things that ppl might make fun of as being "too much" and thats the part we don't like.

Literally chillax in the replies yall.

Yall saying it's already used in research sounds like ur telling ppl "stfu our word is official (tm) so its more important (tm) so stop making things up and pressing ur comfort on others " it sounds like yall are more pressed about it (and pressing your thoughts, or at least defending them for no reason) more than this random free made website thats literally anon so no clout there.

this is why I used to shut up about being queer and meaning I'm nonhuman within queerness bc yall are just gonna dog pile anyone that says that. I define nonhumanity under queerness. Am I suddenly pushing ppl to call everyone queer? To be honest a few of us don't like some terms bc there's just too much drama associated with it, feel talked over in experiences." I don't feel it fits me. There fore it doesn't." Simple right? So really no general term is sacred. I don't think the maker of the site should care where it's been cited especially over someone exploring identity. And save ur time quoting this innocent website bc as long as i dont see "alt H is shitty for everyone!" Which i dont. Anything you think is alluding to an anti alterhuman agenda is an assumption. But I see that about being anti alt b in the comments. "It doesn't make sense" " its creating an exclusive club" followed by yall mentioning a research paper to make your point "official"? wtf? Who's the club here?

I assure you that no one cares this much. Out in grass world, I call myself nonhuman and the normies call me lgbtq. And to be honest nonhumanity is like queerness for most people. The idea of queerness is already so familiar with society at large, the the jumping off point is my offline people calling it an extension of queerness. It is already happening offline where i live and yall are honeslty the same as furries to most people. Theres no controlling the mainstream which will always be much bigger. And sure to me, im unbothered. But am i gunna tell yall to stop making words up? No. So I shrug, and move on instead of writing think pieces on why other people I will never see again dont like doodlebob calling themselves queer and have an agenda. im neutral on ppl using whatever. Who cares. But what i dont like and why I'm writing this, is for folks who resonate with this resource and feel bad bc ppl in these comments turn around and tell someone else that their way is stepping over theirs bc they made a random free website that just exists with no press….like lmao. then saying their term is some kind of official bc its used in research and its lowkey saying to use the other official terms you use and urs doesn't Need to be fixed (implying you think they're trying to fix yours?) or pick something YOU think is better. if youre telling them that maybe alth is not for them then dont use it? Thats what theyre doing. They need something different than anything out there apparantly and If you don't like the path they made for themselves, it then it's not for you keep scrolling.

Anyways homies if you wanna make a term called blah that describes ur general feelings on ur identity and it an umbrella term for whoever feels what you describe as it make a resource page made of stock images with no press or paying for ads do it because it's literally IMPOSSIBLE to press anything on something as personal as identity because we have the capacity to make choices which cant possibly be brainwashed by a FREE STOCK IMAGE WEBSITE. For satire istg I'm making a blah post. yes with the shitty watermark stock photos. Not to make fun of op. No offense to who made the website. ur definition of alterbeing is interesteing and even if i dont use it im ok with you making a website (free websites slay btw) to share ur insights. I just want To make a point about how ridiculous the comment section is making the point that a free stock image website is pushing an agenda on anyone.

just be nice ppl. No one is attacking you. They're just trying to find themselves. And we're here to share niche shit. You need to calm down. Also we know we aren't calm, bc what we passionately defend here is expression without being accused of an agenda. Be nice yall. It's just all hugs and lots of stock images here. Lots. Maybe those silly pixelated ones from the last search page of google.

Shout out to one of our anon mods who co wrote this to add the funny stock image reference lmao

ALTERBEING RESOURCE of the day:

[theewritingroomm]

Handsy

Summary: Eddie Munson has always been a handsy person. OR The three times Eddie couldn’t keep his hands to himself and the one time you made him. Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader Word Count: 2.4k Warnings: Handsy Eddie, drug use (Marijuana), groping, smut, slight fingering, choking, switch!eddie, masturbation (female), being restrained,  A/N: Reader is 18+, Edddie Munson has my whole heart. Smut may be poorly written, I haven't written anything let alone smut in a hit minute. SPOILER FREE FOR VOL. 2. Text divider by: @vecnacurse 

eighteen plus only — by choosing to ‘keep reading’, you are agreeing that you are eighteen years old and over. do not interact with this story if you are a minor.

I do NOT consent to my work being translated or published onto third party sites - including AO3 and Wattpad. 

I. Eddie always got a little clingy when he was in a bad mood…

Since the beginning of your relationship with Eddie a handful of things became certain. The first being your spot in Hellfire. Although you did not play yourself you spent every campaign perched on your own ‘throne’ next to Eddie’s 

“A queen needs her throne too.” Eddie had told you as he dragged the fluffy armchair into the drama room. And since that day, months ago, you cherished sitting next to Eddie while he DM’ed. To see him so happy and eccentric made your day every time. To see the stress and everyday bullshit melt away from your boyfriend’s face, but sometimes the torment of the week weighed too heavily on Eddie’s mind. On those days he needed you closer than what your chairs allowed. 

You knew today was going to be one of those days when you walked into the drama room. Because while the table had already been meticulously put together and sat ready for the day's game, Eddie was sitting nearly sulking on his throne. 

“Eds, are you okay?” you asked as you walked into the room. 

Eddie looked up as you spoke, allowing you to see the sadness in his eyes and the frown marring his features. 

Eddie shook his head as an answer to your question. He didn’t offer much more at the moment. Rather he held out his hand, a silent plea to have you closer. You quickly stepped towards Eddie, placing your hand gently in his. He pulled you down quickly into his lap. 

After taking a second to get comfortable you finally stilled. The moment you did Eddie took the opportunity to bury his face into the crook of your neck and allowed his hands to snake around your waist. 

“Eddie, what’s wrong?” You asked gently, running your hands through his hair. 

He sighed, his hot breath fanning your neck. Eddie placed a quick kiss there before looking up at you. “It’s just been a shitty day and Mrs. O’Donnell’s class is kicking my ass.” 

As he spoke Eddie ran his hands along your sides and over your thighs. A thing that you found he did to comfort and ground himself on the bad days. 

“I’m sorry Eds,” you spoke softly, placing a kiss to the tip of his nose. 

As your lips came in contact with his skin Eddie’s grip on your waist tightened. Effectively pulling you impossibly close to him. You stayed perched on his lap and continued to play with his hair and the threads on his denim vest as the rest of the Hellfire guys tricked into the room. You stayed there long after the game had ended, Eddie’s hand never one leaving its place on your waist. 

II. Eddie got handsy when he got high…

Saturday evenings were by far your favorite day of the week. As you often found yourself laying in Eddie’s bedroom while a mixtape he had made swirled around the smoke in the room. More times than not you would find yourself straddled across his lap while he kissed you like his life depended on it. 

However, today was showing to be a calmer day than most. One of Eddie’s softer mixtapes played throughout the room. A joint was still being passed between the two of you as you laid with your head in Eddie’s lap, the newest Stephen King novel in your hands. It was peaceful. 

But Eddie was starting to get bored. 

He passed the joint back to you and watched as you wrapped your lips around the tip and inhaled. Eddie found it nearly erotic to watch you smoke. To watch watch your eyes become heavy and a smile becomes permanently etched across your lips. He thought you looked ethereal, which spurred him on in wanting to fix his boredom. 

As you took another drag off the joint Eddie allowed his hands to trail gently over your shoulder. Stopping briefly once he got to the collar of the shirt you wore. A flannel that you had likely stolen from his closet months ago. His right hand toyed with the collar as his left hand began ghosting over the buttons that kept it closed. Eddie paused to watch your face, to gauge your reaction. Upon noticing that you haven’t looked up from your book he decided to continue. 

Eddie’s right hand traveled up and down your arm gently, feather light touches that almost don’t feel there. While he let his left hand pop open the handful of buttons that he could reach. 

With the buttons of your - his - shirt open he was able to see the curve of your breast before the edge of the shirt blocked his view. He licked his lips at the sight, wanting nothing more than to wrap his mouth around one of your pert nipples. However, in this position it was impossible. So instead, Eddie placed both of his hands gently on your shoulders before trailing them underneath the material of your shirt. 

His hands traveled over your collar bones and the swell of your breast before long fingers made quick contact with your nipples. He felt them pebble against his hands as you shivered. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, voice low and close to your ear. 

You nodded, “Your rings are just cold.” 

Eddie hummed at your revelation and allowed himself to continue. His long fingers circled your nipple softly as you continued to read. Gentle flicks and pinches continued and the words on the page became harder and harder to focus on. Until a harsh pinch to your left nipple had you gasping and pushing your chest up into your boyfriend’s hands. 

Eddie chuckled lowly in your ear before speaking. 

“Why don’t you put that book down baby girl.” He began placing hot, open mouthed kisses to your jaw and neck. 

At the low tone in Eddie’s voice you quickly tossed the book to the side. Not caring that you just lost your page. 

III. The adrenaline of a show always left Eddie riled up. 

When you had started dating Eddie the crowd of regular Corroded Coffin fans grew by one. And you were by far the loudest. Singing every song at the top of your lungs and relishing in the smile on Eddie’s face as you did. 

But Eddie always enjoyed the time after the show the most. Because once the last song ended Eddie was quickly jumping off the stage and dragging you off the bar stool that you sat perched upon all night. He would lead you to the less than secluded hallway that led to the restrooms and push you up against the wall. 

Trapped between the wall and your boyfriend, your body felt like it was on fire. The wet, hot kisses that Eddie was placing over any piece of exposed skin felt like fire in your veins. His hands pulled at your hair to open your neck up to him and grabbed at your ass underneath your skirt. His fingerprints are likely already forming bruises on the cushiony flesh. 

“Fuck baby,” Eddie groaned out as he nipped at your jaw. 

He began to push your shirt up, exposing your bra clad chest to him and anyone who decided to walk down the hallway. Not that you cared at the moment. 

“So fuckin’ sexy,” teeth sunk into subtle flesh under lace as his large hand grasped roughly at your other breast. 

You moaned loudly, arching into him. His tongue gently swiped over the teeth impressions he had left behind. Attempting to soothe the burn left behind. 

His hand abandoned your chest to slide gently up to your neck. Long fingers placed pressure on the side of your neck as he continued to assault your chest with his mouth. 

“Eddie,” you whined, the pressure he was placing on your neck leaving your head deliciously woozy. 

In an attempt to keep you quiet Eddie quickly placed his lip onto yours in a searing kiss. All tongue and teeth as the hand around your throat tightened slightly. You moaned into his mouth and tried to buck your hips against him. Wanting, no needing to alleviate the growing pressure between your thighs. 

“You getting needy baby?” Eddie teased as he felt your hips shift. “You want me to touch your pretty pussy in front of the whole bar?” 

Soft fingers left your chest and dropped to your thigh exposed by the tiny denim skirt you chose to wear. He gently skimmed them higher and higher until his hand disappeared beneath denim. 

“Gotta be a good girl baby. Gotta be quiet. You don’t want anyone to know how dirty my baby girl truly is.” 

You whined at his words, earning a pointed glare and a quick squeeze to the throat. All the while he was gently running the cool metal of his rings against the sticky lace covering your core. The cool metal is a stark contrast to the wet heat between your thighs. 

“Eddie please,” you whispered. Pleading for him to do something, to do anything. 

“Whatcha want baby girl? I can’t help you if you don’t use your big girl words.” 

Another wave of heat flooded your core at his words. 

“Touch me Eds, please. I need you to touch my pussy.” You begged, not caring if your voice traveled to the rest of the bar. 

“Good girl,” Eddie praised. He finally pushed your lace panties to the side and sank two fingers into your heat.

IV. Eddie’s favorite thing to do is touch you, but what if you don’t let him…

Sitting with Eddie on his bed was not out of the norm for your relationship. Neither was you straddling him while the two of you were in nothing but your underwear. However, the thing that was out of the norm was the pair of shiny handcuffs hanging from the tip of your finger. 

“You wanna be tied up baby?” Eddie asked from underneath you with a mischievous glint in his eye. 

You shook your head gently, watching as a quizzical look flashed across his face. You didn’t let him ask another question. Effectively silencing him as you leaned forward and grabbed his wrists in your hands. Placing them above his head you made quick work to attach the metal to his wrists. The sound of them closing echoing around the room. 

“You don’t get to touch me right now.” You spoke, a smirk pulling at your lips as you sat up. 

You felt Eddie’s cock twitch in his boxers beneath you. 

“That’s not fair baby,” Eddie nearly whined, “Who's gonna show that pretty pussy the attention she deserves?” 

You smiled sweetly at Eddie, leaning forward to capture his lips with yours. Eddie quickly tried to take control of the kiss, attempting to snake his tongue into your mouth to show you who was in charge. You swiftly pulled away from the kiss and began to trail soft kisses from the corner of his mouth, down his jaw and to the shell of his ear. 

“Me,” You answered his previously asked question, “and you have to sit there and watch. Then I’ll decide if you’ve earned the right to fuck my pussy.” 

Eddie groaned, throwing his head back into the pillows beneath him as he bucked his hips trying to alleviate the pressure in his cock. You swiftly put your weight on your knees, removing your pussy from where Eddie wanted it the most. 

You sent him one warning glare as you hopped off of the bed to remove your underwear. Once nude climbed back onto the bed and straddled Eddie’s chest. Your bare pussy was mere inches from his face. He could see how puffy and needy your clit was, how siny it was with your arousal. 

It was his favorite meal and he was being denied the chance to devour you. 

“Baby please,” Eddie pulled at the handcuffs around his wrists, “Let me touch you, I need to feel you baby.”  

You didn’t say anything to him as you trailed your hands up from their place on your thighs. Up your stomach and oh so softly over your chest, stopping only when your fingertips brushed against your nipples. Eddie’s eyes were glued to your hands as you grabbed and played with your chest. Pulling at your nipples much in the way he would, only stopping when they pebbled against your fingers. 

You trailed on hand back down your body as the other continued to circle and pull at your nipple. Eddie watched the hand that traveled back to your core. Not able to tear his eyes away from you as you dragged one finger through the wetness between your thighs. Moaning gently as you touch your clit. 

You gently circled your clit, gradually adding pressure with each pass. 

“Eddie,” You moaned, continuing to toy with your clit and chest. “Feels so good, Eds. Wish you could feel it, baby.” 

You felt your pussy clench around nothing. You know Eddie saw, sure he was going to spontaneously combust because of it. 

“Please baby, I gotta touch you.” Eddie begged, his eyes glued to your core as you slipped two fingers into your tight heat. Pumping them in time with the circles you were rubbing on your clit. 

“Eddie,” you moaned, your head thrown back and eyes shut tight. 

Eddie knew from the sounds you were making that you were close. And god did he wish he was the one pulling those sounds from you. But as he watched you fuck you own fingers he feels as if he had entered heaven. The delicious squelsh of your pussy sucking in your fingers sounded sweeter than any music Eddie had ever heard. The drip of your arousal onto his chest had his cock straining painfully against the fabric of his boxers. 

“Eds, I’m g-gonna c-cum.” you whined as you bucked into your own hand. 

“Yeah baby, come for me.” Eddie grinned wildly as you moaned, “Make a fuckin mess baby.” 

As soon as the words passed Eddie’s lips you were falling apart. Slick coated Eddie’s chest making his tattoos shiny. As you came down and your breaths evened out you giggled at the look on his face. A look of pure arousal and slight pain sat upon his face as he strained against the handcuffs on his wrists. 

Deciding that you had teased the poor guy enough you grabbed the key off of the nightstand. You quickly unlocked one wrist and went to work on the other when Eddie grabbed your waist, the cuffs still attached to one wrist. But he didn't seem to care as he flipped the two of you over. Capturing your mouth in a bruising kiss and his hands grabbed at everything within his reach. 

[amirsirwrites]

I really liked the yoru x shy!reader headcanon, so what about a confession fic with yoru x shy!gn!reader? maybe they're on a mission on icebox, but while they're scouting the place to see if anyone survived the prior battle, there's a snowstorm and they have to hide in the facility together? And yoru's just teasing them and they ask what his deal is? If you've got a few more fic/headcanon request than you'd like, feel free to ignore this. I hope you're having a great day <333

Hey hey, anon! I hope you're having a great day as well! This was really cute to write. Please, enjoy! :)

Yoru confessing to a shy reader ❤️

Requested

Yoru x GN!reader

------

Another day, another successful mission. It was a little bit more unpleasant than usual, given the fact that the location of the mission is Icebox. Everyone, including the Omega team, always gets the cold shivers here. You’re together with Brimstone, Sage, Neon and Yoru. 

“Good work today, everyone. All that’s left is routine site check then we can head home and get food, my treat today,” Brimstone smiled.

Neon groaned, putting a hand to her head, dramatically pretending to faint, “Do we really have to? We totally kicked their butts, no way they’re still lurking around!”

You all chuckled at Neon’s antics. 

Brimstone ruffled her hair before speaking again, “Sage and Neon, you two check A Site. I’ll check mid. Yoru and Y/n, clear B Site.”

Grimacing slightly, you glance to Yoru who was looking back at you with his usual smirk.

You don’t hate Yoru, in fact, you actually like him very much. It’s just that he.. teases you a lot. Not even the mean kind of teasing, it’s the kind that gets you blushing. What’s even more frustrating is that you don’t really know how to tell him off because of how shy you are. You just freeze up and turn red. 

Wrapping an arm around your shoulder, Yoru spoke with a cheeky grin, “Looks like we’re stuck together. Let’s go, sweetheart.”

Your face flushed red and you looked over to Sage and Neon who both had a smirk on their faces.

With that, you headed your separate ways.

When you reached B site, you and Yoru checked around. You couldn’t concentrate though because Yoru kept saying something embarrassing every few minutes. You were so flustered to the point where you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at Yoru. 

“You’re looking real cute today, darling,” he pat your head softly, causing you to grumble back.

You looked around, ‘Just a bit more to go.’

Just then, a cool breeze came your way and you shivered. You knew Icebox was going to be cold but was it always this cold? You don’t remember it being this bad the last few times you were here.

Beside you, Yoru was rubbing his hands together. You could hear him exhale shakily. 

He muttered, “What’s up with this shitty weather…”

The wind was picking up and it was getting harder and harder to see.

“Y/n, Yoru. I’m sure you’ve noticed the snowstorm coming in already. I’m with Sage and Neon inside the facility on A site. You two can take shelter in the facility on B. Make sure to close the doors when you’re in,” Brimstone ordered over the comm line.

Yoru sighed, “Well, at least we’re gonna be spending the next few hours together, hm?”

You both made your way over to the container connecting to the facility and used the zipline to get up. Once inside, you and Yoru closed all the doors at all 4 entrances. You looked around the kitchen, taking in all the tiny little details that you’ve never gotten a chance to look at before.

There was a noticeboard at the side of the kitchen that had some notes on it. One read, ‘Whoever is making snowmen, STOP!’ And the one right beside it replied back, ‘NO’ with a cute little picture of a snowman. It made you chuckle.

Then, your stomach growled and you remembered that you didn’t have any time for breakfast earlier.

Yoru spoke up from behind you, “You hungry? I can make something for us, I think. There should be enough stuff in here.”

He motioned for you to come over and help him. You two searched the entire kitchen for ingredients and equipment in the cupboards and refrigerators. Some of the items were expired, given the fact that no one has been here to replace them. However, there was still a decent amount that was alright to consume.

You found milk cartons, a few cheese wheels, eggs, coffee powder, yogurt cups, jars of rice and oil, a coffee machine, a portable stove, some pans and lastly, a rice cooker.

Yoru pondered for a moment before turning to you, “I can probably make some kind of cheese omurice. Does that and coffee sound good to you?”

Before you could reply, your stomach rumbled again. Your face flushed lightly and Yoru laughed, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Since Yoru assured you that he could take care of everything, you went over and sat on one of the stools at the table while you waited. You’ve never seen Yoru cook before so you silently watched him as he prepared the meal. 

You were fascinated by his movements. They were gentle and swift, very unlike his usual rough and abrupt ones in battle. The comparison made you think about his interactions with you. He’s often rough with others, trying to provoke them and stir up some trouble, but with you… Yoru takes on a much sweeter tone. Sure, he teases you, but it’s always to get you flustered, not irritated. Not to mention, he’s also quite protective, always keeping an eye out for you.

You felt your heart beating against your chest while these thoughts swirled around in your mind.

Peering over his shoulder, Yoru winked at you, “Like what you see, sweetheart?”

With a small squeak, you quickly averted your eyes. Yoru chuckled softly.

At this point, you were getting really hungry. The aroma of Yoru’s cooking was absolutely heavenly and you couldn’t wait to taste it. Thankfully, after a few more minutes, Yoru came over to you with two plates of omurice cups of coffee, sitting next to you.

He passed you a set of cutlery and you dug in to your food, sighing deeply from its amazing taste.

You spoke softly, “This tastes wonderful. Thank you, Yoru.”

He stopped eating for a moment. It’s not often that anyone gets to hear you speak. You swear you saw his cheeks grow red. 

“No problem. I’m glad you like it.”

Yoru had a small smile on his face as he continued to eat with you.

Being here with Yoru, eating in a comfortable silence, had you thinking more about the two of you. Why does he act the way he does with you? Maybe he finds the way you react funny? You feel that may be partially correct. There’s no harm in asking, right?

You slid your hand over and poked his hand lightly, making him give you his full attention.

“I was wondering.. why do you like teasing me so much?” you asked hesitantly.

Once again, he paused. Though this time, he wore a more nervous expression. You let him think about his answer in peace, knowing that nerve-wrecking feeling all too well. 

After a few minutes, he replied back, “I.. Well. Um.. Haven’t you guessed already..?”

You shrug slightly. 

Yoru sighs, mumbling something to himself before reaching out and holding your hand, intertwining your fingers together.

It clicked in your head immediately. 

Your face flushed a rosey-red as you gently squeezed Yoru’s hand back.

He asked, “Just in case - you do feel the same way, right?”

You nodded, unable to meet his eyes.

Yoru smiles, giving you a light kiss on the cheek, “Good.”

“I love you, Y/n.”

------

[blueicequeen19]

Oppression Pt. 4

Warnings: unprotected sex, mentions of violence, mentions of drugging, manipulation, daddy kink, semi public sex, jealousy

I stop at the sound of my fathers laughter, mixed with a more feminine laugh that sure as shit wasn’t Rose. I knew that laugh. I round the house just in time to see my father sitting at the patio table with Y/N. She was wearing a very revealing, strappy red bikini. It made my dick hard but also pissed me off. Was this her plan? Seduce my dad next?

“Shouldn’t you be with Sarah?” I bite out and they both turn to look at me.

“Rafe, where are your manners? Y/N knows she’s always welcome here.” Ward scoffs at me, not seeing through this little siren like I am. Her eyes narrow in warning at me until my father turns back to her then it’s like a veil drops. The doe eyes and small innocent smile return. Manipulative bitch.

“Since when does she hang around without Sarah? I thought you didn’t take in free loaders?” I hit her where it hurts and her face darkens in anger but it earns me a glare from my father.

“What is your problem, Rafe? I don’t say anything to you when Kelc comes over and eats everything in the pantry? Or when Topper needs to borrow some of my tools? You need to remember who’s house this is. Plus, last time I checked, you don’t live here anymore so show my guest some respect or go.” It’s like a punch in the gut. Him picking her over me. Just like how he always picks my sisters over me. How he picks Rose over me.

The only one who ever picked me was my mother and she was dead.

“Whatever. Don’t come crying to me if shit starts going missing.” She wasn’t a thief but I could plant the seed. I stomp off, their laughter reaching me just as I slam the door behind me.

Weeks go by and she’s always fucking there. Every dinner. Every event. It’s like they’ve taken on another daughter and she eats it up. I can tell Sarah is growing jealous but she never says anything, too caught up with her loser boyfriend. Probably glad dad is ignoring her now and let’s her do whatever she wants.

Midsummers comes and I think it’s going to be a great night until she gets introduced with us, hanging on my father like arm candy while throwing me shitty knowing looks. What was her problem? Because I told her she couldn’t tell people we fucked? Because I didn’t want her? I’d post it on the news if it meant getting her the fuck out of my life. That fake innocence is a game she plays too well. It worked on me and now she was trying to seduce my father. A shoulder bumps into me and I look up to see Kelc sipping on champagne following me line of site.

“Maybe she has a thing for the Cameron’s. Supplying the alcohol until she gets what she wants from you.” I blink at him.

“How many drinks did I have that night?” I ask and Kelc looks at me confusingly.

“I don’t know, man. I don’t keep count. Seemed like less than usual. One minute you were fine and the next you could barely stand.” Kelc turns away and starts talking to some girl like I’m not even here. I know I don’t get that drunk. Ever. I don’t like hangovers. I drink and snort until I feel good then I stop. I know better by now. She had to have fucking drugged me.

I grit my teeth as I watch her hand another glass of champagne to my father. Where the fuck was Rose? I turn my head and spot her flirting with the new young deputy and I roll my lip in disgust. Of course. I look back towards my father, shocked to find them both gone. I spin around, taking in the crowd but coming up empty. Where the fuck did they go? They had to have gone inside? If she fucked my dad, I’d kill her. I got away with it once, I’d do it again.

I sit my glass down and go inside the country club. This place was huge. No way I’d be able to find them by myself. A blonde Pogue waiter starts to rush by me and I stop him, nearly knocking the tray of drinks from his hands.

“Have you seen my father?” I ask and he raises a brow at me in annoyance.

“Obviously I’m not babysitting grown adults so no, I haven’t seen your father, Rafe.” He turns away from me as I drag my wallet out, holding up a twenty dollar bill.

“Try again.” I growl and he thinks for a second before glancing at a set of stairs on my right.

“Just missed him. Some girl was leading him upstairs. She was hot.” I slap the money on the tray, causing some of the drinks to spill as I turn and race up the stairs.

I try every door I find but they’re all locked. My heart was racing. I could barely breathe. What if I was too late? My dad was smart. He’d see right through her. He’d be able to tell that she was the devil in disguise. That she was probably just another gold digger.

I spin around. Racing back and forth as I try more and more rooms. What the fuck? Where would they have gone? I hear a gasp around the corner, furthest from the party and my blood runs cold. I know what I’m going to see as I move closer, the sound of slapping skin and heavy breathing reaches my ears and I start to see red. That feeling inside me is building again. The need to take charge and end the problem. To kill.

I peek around the corner. Y/N is pressed against the wall with her slutty little dress lifted up over her ass with her thong hanging out of my fathers pocket as he fucks her from behind. His hand is over her mouth to keep her quiet as he slams into her like a brute, smashing her body against the building.

“You want daddy’s cock? Want me to fill you up with my cum? You’re a dirty girl. Flirting with me then spreading your legs like a little slut. I can’t believe you were still a virgin with an ass as ripe as this.” He buries his face in her neck and her eyes suddenly meet mine. I’m frozen but she smirks even with his hands over her mouth. I know she’s smiling. Even as her eyes fall closed.

I bite my lip so hard it bleeds into my mouth. This girl was dead. So fucking dead. The ocean would be an open grave with her fucking name on it by the time I was done. No place would be safe for her after fucking with my family.

[laufire]

what program do you use to make your edits and your gifs?

For editing I use photoshop itself -I don't know where you could find it p******* rn, but if you search for it you'll find it. I have some links that might be of help in my "resources" tag. I know there are ~~free alternatives (some online you don't have to download too), but since I haven't used them, I can speak for them.

Also, because I'm often in places with shitty connection, I don't like storing video on my computer, and some of the shows and films I've gifed I have on DVD, instead of downloading files I like to use a free program called instagiffer. It captures the images as you stream them, which I find more convenient ngl -I recommend finding the highest quality of video you can find, ofc, but that goes for anything you edit, streamed or downloaded. It even comes with a few editing tools (brightness, playback rate, the ability to include captions). It's poor compared to photoshop so I never use it for that, just to create the gifs I'll edit properly later, but if you can't get photoshop in the meantime it might come in handy.

I've made some gifs using ONLY instagiffer so you can see them, anon:

[Caption: gifs from Legacies. In a wild west simulation, Hope approaches Lizzie ("I take it you're Elizabeth") in an outlaw outfit. There's a close-up of Lizzie raising her head, uncovering it behind her hat in a move typical of western film’s showdowns; she then replies, "And you must be Hope Mikaelson.", and Hope tips her hat to her.]

Things I discovered during this: don't overdo it with the brightness (I used the maximum allowed first and was horrified. This is at a 2), or slow it down TOO much -and this is me saying that, I love slow gifs-; this one is at a -1.

Also, as I suspected, this can result in large gifs (the first one initially was over tumblr's newish 10GB limit -and I still like to keep mine under 3GBs because I don't trust this site lol). Size can be managed when you edit it in photoshop, or if you're in a hurry and have little patience sometimes like me xD, with an online optimizer. I like ezgif.

[ginger-grimm]

To all OC community anon haters...

Hey everyone, me again...

This will likely be a bit of a longer post so feel free to ignore if you just don’t care or whatever.

Once again I have been seeing anon hate flare up against friends and other OC creators. Maybe it never stopped, I just hadn’t seen it in a month or two. I myself have not been suggested to any of this hate. I guess I am not in this “clique” that all anons think creators are in.

So, let’s talk for a bit. I know for a fact that these anons will never come to talk to anyone’s inbox personally. There’s too much cowardice going on with these people. I don’t know if any of these people are actual creators, or if they just want to cause drama for the hell of it because they’re bored. Either way they’re being a pain, and a nonsensical one at that.

Guess what, you guys, this is not how you “get in” with any of the big creators or “cliques”. Being hateful on anon isn’t going to make you cooler, it won’t make anyone see your work, or like it, or reblog it, or follow you, or interact with you. This is not the way to go.

If you actually cared about your work being seen and enjoyed by other creators, you should try messaging some people privately. And, as I would tell anyone from personal experience, don’t try and start with really big creators if you have bad social anxiety. I know it can seem scary to talk to anyone on here, but I assure you we are nice and welcoming and unless someone firmly states that they won’t message back (which, like, I have never met anyone in this community who acts like that), we will interact with you if your work interests us.

And if it doesn’t, that has nothing to do with us being exclusive, or “cliquey”, some fandoms may just not interest others and that is okay. Find your people. Find the ones who enjoy the fandoms you do. Don’t try to force your work onto people who aren’t interested. Where is the logic in that? That way you will only be interacting with someone who’s compliments are forced.

Always remember, at the end of the day, OC creators owe you nothing. They don’t owe you recognition, or friendship, or anything else that you think you deserve because you’re “cast out”. You are not “cast out” or anything like that. But we can’t see your work if you don’t show it to anyone.

I understand the social anxiety of being on this site, I really do. I’ve been here for seven years and only made real close friends last year, because I finally started talking to some blogs. There’s so many things that you can do to be noticed by other creators, or to have your OCs seen. Enter giveaways, do your own giveaways, keep on pushing your stuff out, and most importantly, talk to people!

I can’t sing everyone’s praises enough. Everyone that I have gotten into conversations with has been nothing but kind, giving, and all-around awesome to me and it makes me want to sob when I think about it. We are not exclusionists, we are not monsters, we are not going to bite your head off when you make contact. We are human beings, just like you. We feel shitty when we receive unnecessary hate towards our work, and worse, towards our person.

So, one last time:

Dear anons, stop being cowards. Stop hating on creators (such as @ocfairygodmother​ or @decennia​ and many more who don’t deserve this) just because you want to act entitled and think you’re being cast out.

None of this will get you anywhere, and eventually you will simply be ignored entirely.

My messages are open. They always are. If you use that just to be more hateful, I won’t respond. But if you slide in to start a nice conversation on your OCs or shows or movies or just life in general, then I will be listening.

Sincerely, someone who is fed the fuck up with seeing your bullshit pity party on my friends’, and therefore my own, timeline

[killian-whump]

I'dd totally chip in if Colin did a Kickstarter or so with "If I get a total of X€, I'll record a video of me talking and post it on youtube". Would love to watch him nerding out about guitars or something, but publicly available content is better.

AGREED! That's why I added the "don't you dare" tags on that post. I mean, yeah, if I was made of money, I'd join a ridiculously expensive Colin club to get access to videos of him talking to us... but then I'd rip 'em and send 'em to my besties without any money.

Well, and again, that's IF I had a bunch of money, which I don't, so I'd be forced to go without - as would a good number of his fans. And we'd be bitter about it. And eventually we'd find different celebrities to support, celebrities that didn't make us feel like we were too poor to be their fans.

Which is why I'm with you. I think that idea would be the best, if celebrities WANT to charge their fans for content in the first place. But in all honesty, I think doing so is a pretty shitty thing to do in the first place. It's why sites like Cameo annoy the ever-loving shit out of me and I kinda have a love/hate thing with cons in the first place. I preferred the days of free book/album signings waiting outside a stage door in the bitter cold hoping for a glimpse of your fave. I mean, admittedly, those days are long past me now and I wouldn't be willing to wait around somewhere for either of those things... but this whole "celebrity paywall" nonsense where the rich get to waltz right into a private one-on-one and the poor have to spend a month or two's wages to get a fucking autograph and picture is absolute fucking bullshit. And it boils my blood when less stingy celebrities, like Colin, get literally policed or have items they signed confiscated by money-hungry convention promoters because GODS FORBID a celebrity give out their precious attention when it exists to be monetized and used to make the convention company rich. Fuck conventions.

Sorry, That's an altogether different rant. What were we even talking about? Oh yeah. A Kickstarter for fans to pay a celebrity for content. I mean, that would be WAY better than a literal paywall to access said content, but I still say that celebrity content is like promotional material - for themselves. It's a shit move to charge fans to see it no matter how you slice it. It's like if you had to pay money to watch TV ads. Like, fuck off with that bullshit.

But I guess if you call it an "acting school" there's not much other people can say about it. I mean, you're a teacher now. They're your students. You're teaching them to be proper thespians. I mean, it all sounds good and proper on paper, doesn't it?

[that-damn-girl]

(1) Bucky and The Bed

Completed

Bucky and The Bed Masterlist 

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (cis)fem!reader

Words: 5500+

Summery: You and Bucky are stranded in the middle of a snowy nowhere when there is an 'electronic blackout' during your mission. With no back ups or any way to contact your team, you take refuge from the worsening weather in the only cabin you find  in miles. Not to mention, with no power, Bucky's become your personal heater and there's only one bed.

Chapter type: Fluff, mutual pinning.

Chapter warning: Language, undressing (graphic), nudity(not graphic), NO smut in this chapter.

A/N: This is my submission for @sourpatchkidsandacokecan​ ‘s Merry Kismet Writing Challenge. Thanks for letting me participate! My prompt is, "There's only one bed". I took some inspiration from 'Spy Kids 2' and 'Charlie's Angeles'(2019). Hope I don't disappoint you and you enjoy it!

An unfortunate mix up of thoughts and words. A slip of tongue. It was a simple case of a slip of tongue, which created havoc in not only the building but also Bucky's life.

It was one of the few rare occasions when the entire team was around. Like a family, not by blood but by feelings and emotions. Though a few were lost to fate, some to distance, one to time, they stayed together. Available for each other, always there for each other. Loving each other, taunting each other. Helping each other, making each other stronger. Trusting each other, never to betray each other's trust.

You were one of them too, recruited when Sam was, the new Captain America, his other best friend and partner in crime. You helped Steve Rogers, the former Captain America, take down the parasite in S.H.I.E.L.D. Helped him get back his lost friend, fought the world beside him. Formed with him one of the few platonic relationships you knew you would cherish for life. Fought aliens, got dusted, and got back only to discover him gone to another century, without any chance of being recovered. A curse or a blessing, you were still to process.

Although hurt, the team was recovering. Together. New relationships were formed, old ones were mended. Some out of loneliness, some out of guilt. Some platonic, some not so much.

As the entire team was around, free of missions for a while, free of saving the world, free of helping build the lost world order, free of looking after everyone but themselves, they decided to have some fun. Drink and let loose amongst themselves. Be happy and make those around them happy. They decided on the forever classic, alcohol induced truth and dare.

They were a group of superheroes, some of them having been traveled to different planets even. It was safe to say they were daring. Very daring. So much so that hardly anyone chose 'truth', and the ones that did were bullied into taking 'dare'. More than half the group was composed of spies, assassins, and a mind reader. They knew more than half the truths anyway.

As the bottle spun, your age-old best friend's turn came. You dared Sam to twerk. A collection of oohs and aahs rose. Everyone wanted to know what the new America's Ass looked like in action.

"Aw, man! Don't you got something else?" He protested.

"Don't be a chicken, Sammy."

"Chicken, your ass." That was all the prompting he needed. He confidently walked to the center of the room, supported himself on his knees, and moved his hips in the sinful motion, jutting his ass out with some extra effort every time he went low. Oh, he twerked well, really well.

"Hey sweetcheeks, c'mon join in." and that was all the invitation you needed. None but he knew the true and raw magic in your hips. 

You went just as confidently and started twerking. You were the best of the best in this regard. The cheering you both received with your asses wiggling in the air was much more raunchier. You enjoyed the attention.

Bucky enjoyed the sight.

Bucky knew that things had become wild in the twenty-first century, but discovering that the obscene movements you and Sam did with your butts was accepted, enjoyed and encouraged openly was another shocking piece of information he had received. Not that he was complaining. If he had thought Sam did well, you were a whole another level of fineness in his eyes.

Enamoured as he was already with you, his eyes couldn't leave the enrapturing movement of your divine hips. He didn't understand how one could move their hips in such a flawless and mesmerizing manner.

He had meant to say, 'How the fuck do you do that?'. Somehow, he remembered that people today used 'do' as another term for 'fuck'. Somehow, the line re-entered his brain as, 'How the fuck do you fuck that?'. Most of his attention was on your hips. He was mostly unconscious of his thoughts at the moment. The end result?

"How do you fuck that?"

A pin drop silence followed. All eyes, wide and surprised, turned to Bucky. You and Sam stopped your ministrations and turned to him too. Bucky didn't understand why he became the center of attention all of a sudden. Until he did.

Oh shit.

A couple of days later, you and Bucky were sent on a last minute mission together. A group of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents needed some more help. Well, actually, a lot of help. Fierce and flawless, you and Bucky were equivalent to a mini-army together. Fury sent the pair of you in.

With your much needed help, the mission was a success despite the initial slim chances. The agents returned to the headquarters in their respective modes of transportation. Ever the diligent, you and Bucky decided to do a final sweep of the area before abandoning the site.

You were glad you did, because you both found a man not much later, seemingly your rival and half dead, tapping right and left furiously on a small white octagonal box. With a gun raised, both of you stalked towards him soundlessly. Before you could do anything as you approached him, with a single final push of his thumb, an almost invisible forceful wave rolled out of the white box, throwing you off your feet and pushing Bucky significantly back.

You thought you had passed out for a second there. You felt dazed and your eardrums stung, the silence around you deafening. You looked around, tried to blink the haziness out of your eyes but couldn't. Your limbs felt heavy. It was a difficult work to will your body to  switch to an upright position. When you did, you saw Bucky at his knees, examining the unconscious man. Feeling nauseous and dizzy, you slowly made your way to him.

"Dead," Bucky said, sighing in disappointment. You looked around yourself. The force blast hadn't really disturbed anything other than yourselves in your sight. You needed to know why the man had his last breaths spent on operating that box instead of trying to run away for his life. Why had it caused what it did? What were the effects?

Feeling an impending doom, you asked, "What was it?" 

Bucky shrugged. He turned towards the white octagonal box which laid half split, a few electric sparks coming out of it. "What is that?"

"Never seen anything like it before." You said, pressuring your still fazed brain to recognize it. Deciding to take it in for S.H.I.E.L.D. to look into and identify what it was, you held the split pieces in your hands and after sweeping the area one more time, made your way back to the quinjet.

You couldn't get the ramp at the hind side to set down. Usually, your voice activation was enough, but FRIDAY did not respond no matter how much you spoke. You tried to manually open it through the control panel embedded in the suit of your forearm but found out that it had shut down. You asked Bucky to do it, whose own control panel was in a similar situation. You tried to contact the headquarters with your comms. The comms were rendered useless too. "That's weird."

After you couldn't even open the doors by the well-hidden mini control panel outside of the quinjet, you panicked. Never had this happened before, neither were you ever prepared for a situation like this.

Any and every electronic item in your reach didn't work. Had one or few of your wireless gadgets malfunctioned, you would have understood the force blast had caused it. But this? It was total abandonment by the technology you and your life heavily relied on. And none of it worked. You failed to understand how it had happened. What would you call it? An 'electronic blackout'?

Oh shitty shit.

Accepting that nothing would come out of your futile attempts, you and Bucky decided to look for shelter in the crisp winter air and over the two feet thick snow covered grounds. Whichever direction you craned your neck in, you'd only see towers of dark bottle green leaves atop white grounds, a gloomy atmosphere all around with the sun resting behind the thick clouds.

You tried to remember if there were any safe houses where you two were stranded. Nothing came to your mind. Feeling defeated and lost, you and Bucky kept walking in the direction he thought you could find civilization and help.

In time, the cold was getting to you. Bucky was a super soldier, but you were only a human. The suits you wore were made of a material meant to keep you warm despite being not much thick. However, they weren't made for the extreme conditions you were currently in. Your ears were exposed to the much chilly winds which kept a constant inflow of tremors down your spine, and your gloves were fingerless. You didn't realize it then that your boots had loosened, possibly due to the same force wave which had caused this blackout, and melted snow slipped down to your feet, worsening your state. You were screwed.

Nonetheless, you kept walking with arms wrapped around yourself, shivering continuously. Though the serum made Bucky much resistant to the cold than you, he wasn't immune to it. He didn't shiver, but his body felt the bite of the cold.

He noticed your shivering. He noticed you slowing down. You were taking much smaller steps, just following him, the unease from the cold not permitting you to think at all. He reached behind and pulled you to his side, wrapping his flesh arm around you and rubbing the parts of your arm accessible to him.

After the slip up a couple of days ago, the team had teased both him and you endlessly. They were brutal. He had apologized to you several times after that and explained what he had originally wanted to say. Honestly, you were heavily disappointed he didn't really mean it. It was just a slip up and nothing more, no matter how much you wished it were.

Unknown to you, Bucky did like you, more than a friend, more than a confidante, but didn't want to jeopardize your friendship. After losing Steve, he valued his close friendships even more. So he stuck to being friends, just friends.

As his arm comforted you, you leaned into him, the tempting warmth of his body inviting you. You only nodded when he said, "Hopefully, we'll find something here. It's gonna be okay." Your shoulder rested on his chest as you both walked along silently. You trusted him, so you followed his lead.

You walked for hours it seemed until he heard a frail dejected whisper, "Hey, Bucky," his gaze swept over, concerned. Your eyes were closed, body numb. He stopped walking and turned to you, holding your face in his flesh arm only.

"Hey, Y/N! Y/N, look at me. You're strong. We're gonna be ok, hmm?  Tell me what's wrong, sweety." Your eyes were still closed, but you were consciousness. You felt tired, really tired. He hadn't realized that for the last few minutes, Bucky was only dragging your semi conscious body with him.

You somehow willed your eye lids to open. Squinting at the inflow of light, you took him in. He looked scared, very scared.

"I don't think I can walk anymore, Bucky. Tired, so tired." The cold had gotten to you. Hours of walking against the wants of nature had gotten to you , especially after the dizziness you felt from the force wave which had thrown you off your feet. You were extremely exhausted.

"It's ok, we're gonna be okay!" He repeated the same lines over and over again, rubbing your face and arms in hopes to induce some warmth in your body . "We're gonna find a warm place, Y/N. We just need some more time."

Bucky looked around frantically, hoping to find a good enough spot for you, but all he saw was snow for miles and miles ahead in every direction. He stirred you to a nearby tree and leaned you against it.

"Y/N, Y/N look at me." he caressed your cheek, "I'm gonna run ahead and find us a place real quick, okay? You need to help me. Stay here for me, alright? Do not move. Do not fall asleep. We're gonna get you to a warm place, and there you can rest all you want."

Leaving you against the tree, trusting you to stand upright and not fall into the snow, he went out in search of a hospitable place. Bucky swore he had never run as fast as he did that day. He could feel his heart pounding in his ears. The fear of something happening to you, of losing yet another friend, it did something to him. He thanked God for making him a super soldier, so that he could run as fast as he did. But then thinking of you, he damned God for not making you one, or so your life wouldn't have been in danger from such extreme cold.

After speeding through the thick layer of snow for miles, he found a cabin in a small clearing in the middle of nowhere, covered in snow all around. It definitely looked inhabitable. He climbed up the steps and was about to break the lock of the main door with his metal door but thought better of it. He looked under the door mat and above the door panel and found a spare key which opened the door. Idiots, he thought, but realised those idiots were the reason he had found shelter to keep you safe. Thanking his luck, something which he rarely did, he quickly ran back to fetch you.

Your limbs felt tied down to weights, your body felt numb and unresponsive. Your head ached mercilessly, and you shivered uncontrollably. Yet you leaned against the tree, fighting against yourself to stay upright. You didn't know if your were feeling sleepy from exhaustion or were slipping into unconsciousness from the cold. Either way, you tried not to close your eyes for long intervals.

Bucky found you in a much worse state than he had left you in. When he took a hold of your shoulders to drag you again, you gave out a soundless whine, only puffs of translucent white coming out of your mouth.

"Walk no more Bucky, no more." You couldn't walk anymore and you couldn't form a proper line either . Fearing your condition, Bucky panicked even more.

He put your hands securely around his neck, "Hold on tight, princess, okay? I found us a place. A warm place. Don't you worry , princess." He was more convincing himself than telling you.

You wordlessly nodded at him. He picked you up in his strong arms bridal style and jogged towards his destination, careful not to disrupt you much. Eyes closed again, your head lolled on his chest. You nuzzled closer to him, needing more of his warmth.

He looked down at you, eyes closed and brows furrowed, trying to keep the vicious cold out. You clutched onto him like your life depended on it. Well, it actually did.

"Just a few more moments, Y/N. Don't close your eyes, doll. C'mon, please don't." He knew he whined like a baby, but didn't care. "I need you to stay awake for me."

You wanted nothing more than to be in his arms and sleep forever, but the desperate tone in his voice compelled you to open your eyes.

"Not sleeping, Buck. I'm awake." you assured him in a faint whisper.

"That's like my girl, Y/N." He leaned down and gently kissed your forehead. It was just a small peck, but it warmed you up more that his body did. Moreover, he had called you his girl. Oh, if only he knew how much you wanted to be his girl. It caused your heart rate to increase, swarming your insides a little with butterflies.

You knew you needed to keep your eyes open and not fall into the grasp of unconsciousness. You needed a distraction from the cold biting at your exposed skin. As far as you could see, you only had the never ending white snow, dull cloudy sky and Bucky's beautiful face in front of you. The latter was something you could gladly focus at endlessly. So you did.

You took in every feature of his charming face, how his dark hair contrasted his now pale skin, how the endless white around him brought out the majestic blue in his eyes, how his lips looked deliciously pink surrounded by his scruff, how much he looked like an angel - your saviour, your guardian.

Bucky sensed you staring at him and gently smiled at you. "Almost there, doll." Yeah, you could be his doll forever.

As soon as he reached the abandoned house, he carried you through the already unlocked main door and set you down on the worn out couch. It was cold, and all the body heat which you had acquired from Bucky went into the comfortable but cold surface of the couch. However, you couldn't do much except lay down and shiver, your mind blocking out all of your senses. 

None of the electronics seemed to work, so finding the radiator was a lost cause. Bucky glanced at the fireplace. Fortunately, there were enough logs to last a day if he used them smartly. He immediately put some logs inside the brick structure and fired them up. He only allowed himself to relish in the heat after he put aside the center table and pushed the couch which you sat upon closer to the source of blissful heat .

You looked nearly unconscious, wanting nothing than to give in to the seduction of sleep. Sighing, he moved towards you. Taking your hands in his, he said, "Doll, I told you I'd bring you to a warm place, didn't I?" He slowly, affectionately stroked your hair. "I'm gonna get you some food and warm clothes. Be right back before you know it." He brought your hands to his lips and kissed each once with considerable force. You moved your head in the slightest, which he could only assume was a nod.

You both were lucky you found a place to spend the night in. Bucky didn't know the exact time, but sensed it would be dark soon, and one look at the window confirmed his suspicions. Now all he had to do was keep you and him sound and safe until you figured out what to do about the situation and how to get back.

He looked around the house for its resources. The house looked old. The kitchen cabinets were somewhat adequately filled for a short stay and there was a separate gas cylinder and stove. Sure some of the items in the there were expired and the cylinder felt more than half empty when he lifted it, but he could make do with them. He had to.

The kitchen was directly behind the living room, and there were only one other room in the house. A bedroom with an attached bathroom. He quickly rummaged through the closets he saw and pulled out the only two single blankets and some warm clothes he could find.

He carried them to your considerably less shivering form. He knelt down and lifted your legs to open your boots. Finding your feet totally soaked, he cursed and dried them with a towel he had found. A new wave of warmth spread through you as you watched him fret over you.

He needed to get you out of the half soaked jumpsuit you wore. His own was soaked too, but you were more important at the moment.

He took your hands in his once again, "Y/N, princess, you need to get out of this wet suit." He helped your reluctant form into a sitting position and placed a few of the warm clothes in your lap.

"I'll be in the other room while you change, alright?" He turned to leave but you caught his wrist in your hand in a vice grip. He looked down at it and then your face, your eyes fluttering in and out of consciousness.

"Can you do it for me, Bucky?" Your soft voice asked him. You were too spent at the moment to remove a wet, sticky and skin tight suit from your body. Neither did you have the energy nor the patience. Lethargy had already nestled itself in you.

You didn't like it at all. Not the part where your brain registered that Bucky would touch you in a way he hadn't ever before. You hated the part where you so helpless. You were a grown ass woman, not needing anyone's help in your self-made life. However, as the adrenaline had rushed out of your body long ago, you couldn't care moving anymore after resting your limbs. Besides, it was Bucky you had asked help from. Not some arrogant prick, but your sweet Bucky.

He looked taken aback by your request, but gulping, he gently asked you, "Are you sure, Y/N?"

You took a moment to deeply look into his eyes before answering, "Yes Bucky, I trust you." His heart swelled.

Trust. What a simple thing it was. Could easily be broken by the ones you had known and trusted for longest in the blink of an eye, but took years upon years to form and strengthen. He knew not many people trusted him, the Winter Soldier inside him, which had become just as much of a part of him as his metal arm. But you did, and he reveled in it, his heart beating joyously.

He nodded and smiled at you once before his hands reached your zipper at the front of your jumpsuit. He pulled it down slowly and carefully. As soon as he saw the hint of your cleavage and the starting bulge of your breasts, he cast his eyes behind you after a second of taking it in, no matter how much he wanted to divulge in the sight of you, but kept pulling the zipper down until it reached its end. He was not going to take your advantage in anyway. He'd only take you in with your permission when you were as conscious as the day and not in the half unresponsive state you seemed to be in.

He pulled you up and stared to slide the fabric, which seemed to stick to your skin, down your shoulders. You rolled your shoulders back to help him. Warmth seeped in wherever he touched you, leaving a trail of goosebumps on your skin not only due to the cold but also for another reason entirely. He moved down and dragged your skinny jumpsuit off your legs.

You wore a pair of panties and sports bra beneath the suit, without any clasps. You needed to remove any and all the wet clothes off of you. Bucky didn't know what to do next. You made the decision for him.

You grasped his head and forced his eyes on yourself, "It's okay Bucky. I trust you."

He nodded again, heart thrumming loudly as he took the sides of your bra in his hands, careful not to touch your breasts, and lifted it up and over your head, all the while looking at your eyes which fought to stay open. He would never ever take advantage of you, no matter how easy it would be. The initial resistance which he felt in the upliftment of your bra due to the swell of your breasts made him blush, but he manged to move pass it. He had undressed many dames during his time, but you were the first after being free from HYDRA.

You only had enough energy to push your panties down and let gravity do the work. You lightly kicked them and your suit away after they pooled at your feet. Bucky tried very hard not to think about the beauty in front of him in all her glory. Many thoughts invaded his mind, most of them sinful ones. His inner demons clawed at his soul to get just a look, but god forbid he ever acted on them. You trusted him, he wasn't going to let that trust go. He immediately grabbed a shirt and a pair of thick sweats from the couch behind you and made you wear them, eyes never once straying from yours.

After he covered you up in more layers, he made you sit down wrapped up in a thick layer of the only two blankets. He freed your hair from your ponytail, ruffling it a little for you. He quickly changed in the only other room and made a soup with the ingredients he could find. It tasted shit, but all your cared about was the heat it provided and the appetite it fulfilled.

He spoon fed you as you sat on the couch, wrapped up in the blankets like a cocoon, hands holding them tight around you. He would blow off the excess heat for you before bringing them to your lips, and repeated it patiently, affectionately. You appreciated it very much.

After having some for himself, he slouched down on the couch beside you, finally relaxing. You were more aware of your senses now, having recovered from the cold and exhaustion you had felt earlier with some food inside you now. However, your headache still persisted. You felt sleepy still, but not to the degree you thought you would collapse like before.

You looked at Bucky, who was under a few warm cloths himself but without a blanket, eyes closed and head rested on top of the backrest. You realised it was only one of the few times you had seen him truly relax. He looked really peaceful. Calm and serene, almost like a harmless baby. And oh so handsome.

Without any second thoughts, you shifted closer to him, snuggling into him. You repositioned the blankets so that it engulfed you both.

"You need it more than I do, doll." He started to untangle himself but you held him close, "Just relax and come here, Bucky."

Still stimulated from earlier, Bucky desperately tried not to think of the unintentional pun you used, or he'd soon have a situation going on downwards.

You knees were tucked under your chin as your entire body leaned on Bucky, your head and one of your palms resting on his chest, drawing random patterns. His flesh arm came up and pulled you further into his side as it circled around your shoulder and rubbed your upper arm. The motion so soothing and the warmth from not only the fireplace but also Bucky so alluring, you thought you'd enter the land of gleeful dreams right there.

You felt wholesome in that moment. Maybe it was because of the close proximity only, maybe something more. Whatever it was, you wanted to enjoy it thoroughly.

Nostalgia had hit Bucky when he was taking care of you. An unqualified nurse? Bucky was certified for that, courtesy to his scrawny blonde friend back in the day. He took care of you as he had for his friend. A sense of responsibility, worry, genuine concern, all had been there, but there was something more too. Something he couldn't pinpoint. He had felt something tugging at his heart. He didn't know what, but it did. It made him nervous and excited all at once, but he didn't know what to make of it as the two of you sat in silence for long, drowned in your own thoughts.

Soon it was dark outside, the fireplace the only source of light. The atmosphere chilled even further. As Bucky came back to his place after adding more firewood, you immediately wrapped your arms around him, not liking the brief inflow of cool air when he had moved. You buried your head deep into his chest as much as you could from your position. He laughed. 

"Hey, Bucky," he hummed in response. You leaned away a bit to look straight into his blue grey eyes.

"Thank you for everything." You wanted to say so much more, but you felt overwhelmed.

Cupping your cheeks, he turned towards you, "No doll, you don't need to thank me for that. I'll always take care of ya, you know that right?"

You covered his palms and said, "No Bucky, you don't understand. I was thinking, wondering what would've happened if you weren't there. If I were alone..." The feminist in you didn't want to admit it, but you knew that was the truth at the moment.

"I couldn't even walk throughout. You carried me here, took care of me, changed me, fed me. You saved me today, Bucky. You saved me. If not for you..." Tears welled up in your eyes as you opened your mouth but nothing came out of it.

"Shh, shh, no honey," He hugged you tightly, rubbing your back, "You're safe, you're fine."

You sobbed into his neck, "God, I feel so pathetic, Bucky. You had to take care of me like a baby. I am a grown woman, an Avenger, for heaven's sake. Have been for years. I should've been stronger than that. And now I'm crying like a child." Somehow, the realization made you cry harder.

You didn't know why it was happening, why you were crying so hard. You've had near death experiences countless times before. Hell, you were even dusted, dead in a way, and brought back. This wasn't much life threatening. You were safe. You were alive. Yet you continued grieving what could've happened but didn't.

"Hey, hey, doll," with one hand under your knees, Bucky took placed your sniffing form on his lap sideways. You head was still in the crook of his neck and his arms embraced you, enveloping you, keeping you away from any fears you had, any regrets you had. He rocked you fondly, his cheek on your head.

"It was the blackout Y/N, it wasn't you." He comforted you, "Y/N, this wasn't our mission. Your mission was to back up our agents and you did, you did it perfectly doll. This...this is something none of us know about. It's well below freezing temperature outside. You can't win against the nature, doll."

He rocked you and whispered soothing words until you had calmed down. You weren't sure why you did that. Bucky and you had always been close, just like you and Sam. You confided in each other, supported and comforted each other. If you ever did show your vulnerable side, it was only in front of them. But it hardly ever came down to this.

"Sorry Bucky, you had to see that," you pulled back a little to look at him. He wiped your tear stained cheeks with his thumb. His nonjudgmental eyes looked at you, an understanding smile on his face.

"Doll, it's okay. You've let it all out, it's good. You feeling alright now?" Although you still felt a little embarrassed by it, you mumbled out a small, "Yeah."

"Fuck the snow for snow for making you cry." You replied, "How do you fuck that?" You both laughed a little.

Lost in your eyes, his hand moved from caressing your cheeks to caressing your tender neck. You looked up at him but were unable to focus on any single feature of his. His eyes, so soft; his smile, so pure; his lips, so juicy.

You tucked a few strands of his hair behind his ear, your palm on his cheek. Bucky felt his heart dance around his chest. You leaned in to kiss his cheek, but he unknowingly moved his head following the descent of your eyes and you pecked the corner of his lips.

Unsure of what to do about it, you dropped your head in the crook of his neck, as if it were normal for friends to go around kissing the corner of each others mouth. It wasn't. But you thought that if Bucky had a problem, he'd say something. He didn't.

Bucky didn't know if he was more remorseful or thankful for not fully turning his face and having your soft, luscious lips right on his.

It was then when all his nicknames started coming to you. Sure, he'd use them, but it was rare. That day you had heard more nicknames from him than you had in the entirety of your friendship. Doll, princess, sweetheart, honey... Not having heard those from this man before, in his sweet yet hard voice before. It did things to you, made your heart pound faster, your core heat up.

It was also then that you noticed one thing other than his strong and broad thighs beneath you. You leaning into him, him feeling your breasts pressed to the side of his chest, him taking in your sweet scent, it woke his nervous system. Moreover, in rocking you, Bucky had also rocked the nerves down there, the stimulus encouraging an inflow of blood, making not only his penis hard but also harder to hide it from you.

He prayed to heaven's that you didn't notice. You did, but you tried to make no indication that you did. However, he understood from the way you stiffened atop him that you did notice it. He was convinced that you'd hate him now.

Feeling immensely embarrassed, he unceremoniously stood up and dropped you on the couch.

"Uh, I'll just, uh, I'll just set up the fireplace in the bedroom. It's been a long day." He wiped his sweaty palms on his bottoms and bolted out of the living room.

You were low-key in shock. You desperately hoped you made him hard, but your rational side told you it was just because of the physical contact. He'd be in the same situation even if it were somebody else. Your presence didn't really matter to him. The thought made you physically hurt.

As Bucky set up the fireplace in the bedroom, it then struck to his mind. There was only one bedroom, which meant there was only one bed. He glanced at the queen sized bed  bed behind him and then at his raging boner. Somewhere in the back of his head, he could hear Sam roaring with laughter at his predicament. 

He knew it was going to be a long, long night.

The divider is made by @writeyourmindaway​

Chapter 2

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A/N: Thanks for reading! There is going to be lots of soft!bucky cuddling and pinning in the upcoming chapters, I don't live in a place where it snows and I don't really know how people hold up or how the houses actually are in such places. Sorry for the inaccuracies you find. Good or bad, your feedback is always welcome!

[saladejin]

Changing States | Jimin

Jimin x Reader | non idolverse au, husband!Jimin |  Fluff, crack-ish, slight angst

Summary: You receive a much needed comfort after one of the worst days in history. Well... your history anyway. 

Warnings: Mention of a pregnancy loss.

Word Count: 3k 

* Request from my Ao3 series ‘Movie Night’.

~

Sometimes people liked to call it waking up on the wrong side of the bed. You preferred to label it as just a bad day, nothing to worry about usually, yet now you were rethinking everything.

Today, your entire bed seemed to be on the wrong side of the room.

You awoke to the sound of loud machinery and boisterous yelling filtering in from the window. Blinking the sleep away, you inwardly cursed for forgetting to get the uneven windowsill fixed up yet again. Now you would have to deal with the noise from the construction site next door without being able to complain about it because it was your scatterbrain that had left you to suffer in silence.

You let your eyes flutter shut and extended one arm towards the other half of the bed, desperate for the warm body that would usually be there but only meeting the cold, dreary bedsheets with your fingertips.

That’s right, he has to work extra early hours today.

You sat up slowly, letting your eyes trail over the hauntings of a crease he had left in the smooth fabric. You couldn’t help but roll over to rest your face into his plush pillow, trying to catch the last tendrils of his scent that was made up of a million different things. The things that made you feel secure and bolted to the ground, whether it be his aromatic shampoo or the light cologne he’d worn the previous day.

It hadn’t been the best morning so far, but you knew he would have made it perfect if he’d only been by your side. Being your source of motivation to get going, or something.

You got to your feet and padded into the bathroom to make yourself somewhat presentable. Your brows were still twitching from the obnoxious noise outside, and the fact that they’d brought in a big reversing truck had amped the annoyance level. Repetitive beeping was a big no for your sanity at the moment.

“Two more weeks,” you sighed and tried to angle your lips upwards into a smile, just for the sake of feeling brighter in mind and spirit.

Then, the smile vanished as a high pitched shriek tore from your throat. The big fat hairy spider sitting on your mirror didn’t move, but you did.

“What the fuck!” You growled, eyeing the creature and clenching at your heart over your shirt to stop it from racing. It was so big you were almost too afraid to try getting rid of it. Usually you could whip out the fly spray or get a cup and a sheet of paper to let it outside, but this one was giving you eyes.

“Nope.”

You let the bathroom door click shut and let your head rest against the wood with an audible thump. It was still morning, but already you’d been through about twelve of your most detested emotions of all time.

I’ll let Jimin deal with it when he gets home.

You left the spider to its own devices and made your way into the kitchen for some food. Luckily for you, the milk had expired and your coffee machine had decided to overflow and ooze its weird concoction of water, caffeine and sugar straight onto your tiles. Tiles which had been freshly mopped not two days ago, mind you.

You reminded yourself to feel thrilled that it hadn’t been on the carpet instead.  

You could only sigh again and began moving your feet to get the cleaning stuff from the cupboard. The sound of the machine dripping occasionally followed you the entire way, and that, coupled with everything else that had gone down so far, landed you the biggest headache you could possibly imagine.

You weren’t hungover, but if things continued the way they were then it wouldn’t be long before you’d be setting yourself up for something similar. Your phone buzzed a while later and you perked up at the message from your best friend. She’d suddenly invited you out for lunch, but you didn’t know how to feel.

I’ve been kicked out of the bathroom and I haven’t had much to eat. I’ll look like trash and be grumpy as hell, but hey at least it’ll take my mind off everything for a while.

~

Newsflash, it hadn’t helped.

You watched in shock as your friend beamed at you from her seat in the café. Your coffee had been served unnaturally cold, and then when you’d sent it back they had returned with a completely wrong order altogether. You could barely keep your fragile sense of civility together for the nervous looking waiter, but whenever you felt yourself about to snap you just imagined Jimin’s heart-warming smile and the words he would always speak in moments of amounting stress.

“It’ll be alright baby, you’ll get through it.”

Now, the aforementioned shock was stemming from your friend and colleague. The friend and colleague who had just dropped a bombshell.

“We’ve decided to move interstate! There’s a lovely house on a river we saw and fell in love with,” She smiled excitedly.

“That’s amazing,” You breathed, genuinely feeling happy for her but trying your best to ignore the feelings of sorrow gripping at your heart.

“I’ll be sad to leave you guys and the company, but I’ll come down to visit as often as I can. You okay (Y/n) sweetie?”

You jerked as her hand found yours across the table.

“Yeah, sorry I’ve had a bit of a chaotic day. I’m so happy for you,” You smiled, grasping her hand and feeling relieved when she seemed to let the moment pass. You hated yourself for letting the negativity outweigh everything else, but you knew you would easily be feeling elated if had just been a better day.

“I’ll have to show you photos, maybe you two will be inspired to look for another place somewhere too,” She smiled tenderly, knowing you and Jimin had always wanted to venture out into the world to find the perfect spot. Work had overtaken many things so far in your married lives, but seeing your friend finally break free did make you feel hopeful for a change.

Feeling encouraged by your thoughtful and optimistic expression, your friend continued.

“Just a nice little place with a perfect temperature for like, everything! Wouldn’t it be great to even live close together? Our families and kids could share so many memories.”

Your smile dropped and your best friend suddenly let her voice die in her throat, realising she’d brought something up she shouldn’t have just yet. It was a little soon.

“Oh shit, (Y/n) I didn’t mean to.”

“No, it’s fine silly,” You laughed it off, still squeezing her hand to reassure her. Her worried gaze pierced into your own and you felt a tad uncomfortable from all the emotions in your brain running rampant all of a sudden.

“You look under the weather, let me pay your bill,” She offered softly, getting to her feet and prompting you to follow. You were so grateful she was so tuned to your mannerisms, she knew just when you needed a break from it all.

You said your goodbyes after apologising for your miserable appearance once again, finally getting into the car and heaving a massive sigh to rid yourself from the tension. You contemplated calling Jimin, but you knew that he was at work and would likely be busy with getting everything done. He was efficient like that.

“What a shitty person I am, couldn’t even be fucking happy for my friend,” You muttered in shaky annoyance as you started up the car, feeling like you wanted to scream all your anger away into the dashboard. Onlookers be damned, you didn’t care about being judged.

No, just buy some ice cream or something on the way home. You’ll have a better day tomorrow.

More of his words drifted through your memory.

“Keep it together, treat yourself. You deserve happiness.”

A sad smile tugged at your lips and you made it onto the road after promising yourself to feel better. If you hit a low point in your day you could only climb up from it. You told yourself to clear your mind and look forward to what time you had left.

To your chagrin, the positive outlook only lasted so long when you found yourself neck-deep in traffic; the sound of rumbling engines and an occasional beep of a horn being the only sounds greeting your ears for a solid ten minutes.

What the…

Your resolve cracked at the edges and began crumbling.

“Music will help,” Your teeth found your bottom lip as you reached for the radio station buttons, but unfortunately you were only met with white noise and the momentary sound of ads breaking through. You could almost feel the speed of the ice cream melting.

The world became blurry and your grip tightened on the wheel.

~

“I’m home, my love.”

Jimin’s slightly wearied voice echoed through the front hallway as he shuffled through the door, keys thrown onto the bench and coat draped over a nearby bar stool. He rolled his shoulders experimentally to feel how tensed they were, letting out a sigh at the muscles loosening from their strained position.

“(Y/n)? Jagi?” He used a few more names to try and get your attention, full lips pulling into a frown when he only heard muffled sobbing coming from the living room.

Oh no…

“(Y/n)?”

He walked into the room with purposeful strides, rolling up the sleeves of his button up as he went to help cool down. When he saw the flickering screen of the television, he noticed instantly that an attempted movie stream had failed due to a poor internet connection. He searched the couch hurriedly with concern flashing in his chocolate brown eyes, finally coming to rest on your form wrapped in a blanket huddled to one side. His heart broke when he watched your shoulders tremble with another barely contained wail.

“Shit, (Y/n) are you okay?” He inhaled sharply and jogged over to kneel in front of you, hands flying upwards to peel the blanket away from your face.

“God, I’ve wanted to hear your voice all day,” You sniffled, face red and puffy from tears. He didn’t know why you were crying, but the man embodied all the sensitive qualities of an empath. The sorry sight of you made his own emotions well up at an alarming rate.

“Hold on,” He cradled your face and stood up to gently smear the tears away from your cheeks, planting a sweet kiss on your forehead before rushing to the bedroom to get changed into something comfier.

“You definitely should have called me!” He groaned with a frown, hating that you were feeling so saddened but hadn’t been in contact to let him know.

You could only sigh. “You were working, I’d be too much of a bother.” You swayed on your feet as you waited for him out in the hallway leading to your room. You just wanted to be close to him now; wanting absolutely nothing more than his soothing words and body heat. He finally nudged open the door with his elbow, now dressed in tracksuit pants and a plain white t-shirt that was looser than anything else he owned.

“Come here baby,” He cooed and looked at you with softened eyes, reaching down to sweep you into his arms almost effortlessly. You wrapped your own arms around your husband tightly as he brought you back to the comfort of the couch, pressing his lips to your hair to remind you that he was home safe and sound.

“Tell me all about it.”

You sighed a rickety sigh, feeling even more tears swell from nowhere at the feeling of immense joy you now felt.

“Shit day, just all round shitness,” You murmured as you settled comfortably into his lap. His fingers swept some of your hair away and then moved to run through the tresses, making you smile and lean into the inviting pressure.

“Hmm, what was the first thing,” Jimin prompted, wanting you to let it all out to him while also being curious as to what had caused such emotional trauma. You revelled in the softness of his voice and moved your own hands to touch his face. He thought it was cute, but you believed the resulting smile he flashed your way was the most adorable thing to exist on this planet.

“The windowsill, for one,” You finally muttered, breaking off into a chuckle.

“Oh, whoops. I keep forgetting.” He clicked his tongue, a rumble of a growl sounding deep within his chest. You chuckled again and couldn’t help but nuzzle your face affectionately into his neck.

“It’s not your fault, I was gonna call up about it ages ago.”

His fingers continued to comb through your hair as he hummed for you to continue. Your tears had stopped altogether as you synced your breathing with his, feeling secured by the feeling of his rhythmic heartbeat underneath your moving hand.

“Met up with (F/n), but I looked like shit and felt like shit too. Oh yeah, coffee machine broke before that as well.”

“Wow, double whammy.”

You snorted and tried to push down your feelings of endearment to continue solemnly. “She’s moving away with her husband, interstate.”

Jimin let out a low noise of understanding. Finally, he could wrap his head around why the combination of all these small and big events would cause you to fall apart at the seams. Now that he thought about it, it had been so long since he’d even seen you cry. Maybe you’d been bottling it up for months now, and he just hadn’t noticed.

Work causing me to be ignorant, again! I really need to start focusing on what’s important...

Jimin pushed the thoughts away as you continued with the adoption of a heavier tone, the warmth of your tears falling onto his shoulder suddenly. He ran a hand over the top of your head to comfort you, his own eyes watering at your outward display of frustration.

“I couldn’t bring myself to feel happy, I mean I was but she’s one of my only friends at work and I know I’ll feel a little lost without her there. The house sounds really nice from what she said too.”

Jimin felt your form stiffen as you sobbed lightly.

“Then what?” He prompted with a soft whisper, holding you closer and rubbing your arm to help calm you down.

“She t-talked about kids and stuff, I’m so fucking stupid but I couldn’t help thinking of the miscarriage. She knew too, she…she had to stop herself from speaking just so I wouldn’t break down. Jimin, I’m such a horrible friend, I really am…”

Jimin felt his own sorrow creeping up on him as you brought up something that had deeply affected you both. You comforted one another as you stopped to brood for a few minutes, the silence being as consoling as anything while you focused on the sound of his breathing. He cleared his throat, urging away the crackle in it to lighten the atmosphere.

“It’s alright, the world is full of people you’ll meet and keep close to you. Think of all the opportunity out there instead of seeing the loss. We can visit, no?”

You cracked a smile at his much needed optimism.

“Of course. Of course we can, love.”

He kissed your head again and you reached up to smooth your now softened hair out of your face and peripherals. You looked up at him with an absolute storm of adoration clouding your gaze.

“How about we stay in tonight and just cuddle here on the couch. I’ll get the TV working too,” He murmured, bringing his hands to cup your cheeks lovingly and letting his eyes curve slightly from the accompanying smile. You ruffled his thick ashy locks briefly before shifting in his lap and capturing his lips with your own gently.

“I love you so much, it hurts sometimes,” You sighed after pulling away, but he jerked to follow your lips a second after. You hummed in amusement as you moved to straddle him, trying to pour all of your gratefulness and appreciation into the kiss.

You disconnected but rested your foreheads together to lock eyes, your face scrunching slightly when he tickled your nose with his own.

“I love you too, but you already knew that,” He rasped, planting another tiny peck to your lips and letting it linger.

You couldn’t stop running your thumbs across the expanse of his wide cheeks, your noses still inches apart and warm breaths tickling each other’s lips in small puffs. It was as if neither of you ever wanted to move.

“Yeah, kinda,” You giggled while giving his cheeks the lightest of pinches.

“Kinda? I’ll give you kinda…” Jimin growled playfully and rolled you over to the other side of the couch, standing up straight and flexing out his shoulders while you shrieked with laughter.

“I’m sorry, I know!”

He chuckled cutely and leaned over to tickle you some more before showering you with more kisses. You let your face relax as you took in his warm gaze. You felt a little calmer and more serious after the small bout of liveliness you’d had.

“Sorry, I didn’t really ask about your day. Now that I’m done I can give you a massage while you tell me.”

Jimin let out a big breath and fixed his roughened hair, looking down at you with vaguely tired eyes that were still filled with appreciation.

“Massage sounds amazing love, but I need the toilet.”

“Okay, maybe the ice cream is back to normal. Get it on your way back?” You called out after him.

“Sure thing.”

You smiled softly to yourself as you thought about how much he had managed to cheer you up with one conversation. You did feel kind of selfish for unloading all your troubles onto him without seeming to give a shit about his day in return, but you promised you would make up for it as soon as he came back. You would help him turn his day around, just like he’d done for you.

In fact, the ice cream reminded you of this very moment. When it came down to it, something like this could never be irreversible. Even if you were a sad, melted puddle of emotions from the moment you woke up, you’d since been restored to your former glory by your saviour husband, your personal freezer. He kept you together when you needed it the most.

“AH!”

A muffled shout from the bathroom caused you to slap a hand to your mouth to stop the cackles from escaping.

“That’s a big motherfucker.”

Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.

[gundampilot]

All saved/backed-up September 1999.

WELCOME TO THE ORIGINAL ANIMATED GIFS OF THE INTERNET!

Way, way, way back in the day, in the 90s, this is how we shared episode or movie scenes for anime series we loved, or for scenes that never got brought over to the States due to censorship. These are super, super, super tiny in resolution and degraded hardcore, because, well, we had shitty dial-up internet connections so file sizes had to be small, and also because everyone was using 800x600 resolutions at the time, so they seemed much larger. If you could see what was going on, that was good enough back then lmfao. 

Ya’ll should feel lucky you get some amazing high quality HD gifs these days. 

I’d like to remind people of the process for how these were made back in their day. Some super, super, super lucky (or most likely rich) person owned a VHS to whatever video file format ripper of its time. Yes. VHS. Digital uploads for video did not exist yet. DVDs didn’t even exist yet. Like, people had to trade VHS tapes at conventions and flea markets, or with strangers online to obtain some of these tapes. If you had a big collection, you spent tons of money on shipping to get those tapes from your buddy you met on ICQ/AIM from Japan lmfao. 

Fansubs and even raw videos were rare for their time for people to get their hands on. EPISODES ON VHS IN GENERAL WERE NON EXISTENT ON THE MARKET. Sailor Moon (like most other anime of the day) was just in syndication on TV. VHS tapes of the series to own/buy did not exist. You could not purchase them because they didn’t exist to purchase lmfao. Let that sink in for a second. Even if you wanted to own it, it didn’t exist. You had to know a guy who knew a guy in Japan that just so happened to be taping the episodes for his own personal use on his VCR while it aired. If he missed an episode that week? You’re screwed lmfao. Better hope somebody made an episode summary that week. This is why people started to trade tapes to fansub “distributers” in good faith that they’d get a translation out of it thereafter. 

So some super lucky fan owned episodes of this show, then had to convert their VHS tapes to digital media. Then they had to painstakingly screencapture each image from that, and use whatever program at the time existed to sync up frames to play. I’m having a hard time even wrapping my head around the amount of money they had to have invested in a big enough harddrive to read the digital media… For example, in 97~98 I had a 1.5GB harddrive and that was considered top tier for the typical consumer. If clips, not episodes, but just minute long clips were just around 1~2MB (which was considered really big at the time), imagine how big an entire episode was???? This is of course before the encodes of today that made digital media as tiny as it is looking as good as it does. And 1.5GB is SUPER QUICK to load up on, especially when you’re not taking into consideration your OS and whatever programs you have installed. 

So anyway, I digress. 

Then this person makes them as tiny as possible so that when they uploaded them, their website server didn’t ban them from using too much space or bandwith lmfao. It was an insane task (that I wasn’t able to take part in, because, as stated above, ya’ll gotta have Benjamins for that). BUT it was god-send for fans who loved this type of stuff. MOVING PICTURES? SIGN ME UP. Since movie clips were impossible to find because nobody had a good enough internet speed or big enough harddrive to download them, everyone wanted super tiny easy to share images instead. If you had a gallery of this type of media, people went wild to your site. This type of stuff did not come cheap to host, and I know there were a few websites that were always offline because of the overload in traffic. 

I know the first image was from Chibiusa.com. The others are from SailorMoon.org’s Sailor Moon Grep gallery (the first iteration that was free for everyone to go wild over, and then exactly as I described above kept happening, and the galleries went offline). 

*Edit: Found three more.

[fleur]

i’ve been asked a few times about the process of selecting and using themes, so i thought i would write out everything i can think to say about them and hope it’s useful! i’ve broken it up into the very basics, before you hunt, hunting for themes, colours, pages, update tabs and extras! if you can think of anything else that i’ve missed, please don’t be afraid to ask! i’m happy to help wherever i can!  

THE VERY BASICS

html can feel a little daunting, but the amazing theme makers on this site have made it super easy to make use of their codes! so once you’re ready to install your theme it’ll go like this:

once you’ve picked your theme (keep reading for tips on that!), in the description there should be a link usually titled ‘code’ (along with other instructions which will help with installing it!), open this link and copy all of the text (this is the code!) supplied! then when you’re ready, when you click ‘edit theme’ on your blog you’ll see this:

you want to click ‘edit HTML’ and you’ll be taken here:

you want to delete all of the code that’s there already and replace it with the code you just copied! now click ‘update preview’ and then ‘save’ and click the back arrow button and refresh the page! (sometimes you won’t need to refresh but i do it out of habit of having shitty laptops)

depending on the features of the theme your ‘theme options’ should have changed! most basically it should have options for post width, font colour, link colour + where to add your links for your homepage! have a go at turning each setting on and off so you can see what each does for your theme - but yo the theme makers on here are dope and everything should be really straight forward! (i’m happy to try and help if anything seems confusing! but theme makers are also often ready to answer questions and are ofc best to ask!)

DO NOT EVER EVER EVER REMOVE THE CREDIT FROM ANY CODES YOU USE. DON’T BE THAT GUY. JUST DON’T DO IT. coding is fucking hard, and there are so many reasons why it’s not okay to remove the credit after all that hard work they’ve done to supply you and other users with free codes for your blog. so just don’t do it.

don’t edit the code (often small tweaks are fine) unless you have permission to do so.

and please make sure to like and/or reblog any code you do use! you’re about to use their hard work, it’s the least you can do!

BEFORE YOU HUNT

i think it’s good to have a look around at some blogs that you love + admire and start to get an idea of what kind of theme you want because honestly there are so many wonderful themes out there it can get pretty overwhelming trying to pick one! (also look for the credit on these themes, when you find one you really love you can see what else the theme maker has posted! (or even just use that theme if it’s available from the credit source - they are all there for all of us to use, so nobody will mind!))

think about how many links you are going to want to have displayed on your homepage, as some will have a lot more than others! i think the essentials to have linked are your original content, navigation + about pages (going to get to that later!) but the rest is up to you!

HUNTING

my two fave places to find themes + codes are @theme-hunter and @acuite ! (but again, def have a browse of bloggers with themes you love and see what else those creators have made!)

i think it’s a good idea to put a whole bunch you like the look of in your likes and then narrow it down from there! so often i’ll get halfway through changing a theme and decide it’s not quuuite right, so it’s good to have options!

make sure to consider any images within the theme! some themes might need a specific sized image, while others will scale it down for you - so keep an eye out for that kind of stuff. you can use sites like pixlr and picmonkey to crop down and edit images to size! a lot of themes have smaller icons, so often icon pack icons are perfect!

personally (+ remember this is all totally subjective, at the end of the day it’s your blog, so you should have whatever theme you like best!!), i like single columned themes with a white background! i think white is the best to present your content on, but if you do what to have a coloured background - i’d suggest a very pale/saturated colour so it doesn’t distract/clash with some of your posts!  (my background is a very light grey with the borders around images kept white!)

also, i think it’s a really nice idea to keep tags showing on your themes! as quite often when i’ll be scrolling through someone’s blog i might see a post i’d like to see more of and with the tags showing it’d only take one click! + leave captions on! same way you shouldn’t delete captions when reblogging edits etc, you should have the caption on show on your blog!! 

COLOURS

who doesn’t love a good colour palette? you’ll be able to see how many colours you can incorporate into your theme under ‘theme options’! black/dark greys are usually the best for your default font colour - but have some fun with your link and link hover colour!

looking through ‘colour tumblrs’ are a good way to pick a palette, but make sure they all tie in nicely (including with your themes icon if it has one!) i usually find colour inspo here + from the blogs reblogged from within there.

PAGES

pages can be super important! nicely organised pages are definitely something i look for in blogs, and just makes your blog feel much cleaner and organised! it’s also good to get away from just having a ‘default style’ page with a simple text list tag/about page, it just looks nicer when you have a coded page for it, ya know?

the two pages i think every blog should have (and have linked from your homepage for sure) are an ‘about’ page and a ‘navigation/tags’ page! then after that, just start checking out what kind of pages other blogs have and ones you’d enjoy having on yours!

sometimes you’ll be able to find ‘page packs’ where a coder has made the ‘standard (about, navi, blogroll etc)’ pages all with a similar style! you might notice on my blog, my faq, about and navigation pages all look quite similar because i got mine from a pack! but if not, just aim for pages that work nicely together and with your blog!

(both of the theme blogs i linked above have well-organised pages sections, so they’re still my recommendations!)

(to add a html page just make sure you have ‘custom’ selected here: )

UPDATE TABS

they can feel a little daunting, but really, they’re pretty easy to add and are great to have on your blog! you can use them for a little bio section, a place for extra links and letting people know what you have going on atm!

so each updates tab should have some instructions to help you, but the general idea is you’ll be given one/two bits of code to add to your theme's code. so you will have to go back into ‘edit html’ and usually it’s at least one bit of code to paste into the ‘<body>’ of your theme! but make sure to read the rules supplied for each updates tab, as all are slightly different!

to make your updates tab sit on the opposite side of the blog - cmd+f within the code of your updates tab and look for either ‘left’ or ‘right’ in accordance to how it sits currently + then switch it word for the side you want it to be on!

EXTRAS

clock for your blog (find your timezone and scroll down to where it says ‘tools & converters’ and there will be a link that says ‘Display a free clock for *location* on your website or blog’)

hit counter + online user counter

handy codes to know (for editing your bio etc!):

adding a link: <a href=“urlbetweenthequotes”>name of link</a>

break: (drops your following text down one line) <br>

paragraph (drops it down about two) <p>

[pluiethewolf]

PATERSON

Recently I went to see Paterson with a friend and when I got home started writing a message to him about it which quite quickly became 1000 words long. It really struck a chord with me which I didn't necessarily notice while watching it.

For me the whole film is about people's personal passions and art, as well as the joys of life even when it's unexceptional. In fact I think the word 'even' doesn't fit what the film's doing, it doesn't feel like there's a hierarchy in it of what success means, that Paterson's life is good DESPITE being unexceptional. In a 'mainstream film' (i hate using phrases like that but it's an easy standin for 'films not like this') it would be about Paterson and/or his wife trying to hit the big time and the joys and difficulties that come from achieving or not achieving that. They would be special in their talent and ambition. But they're not. The film shows that through little girl's poems and the guy in the laundrette rapping and the barman's chess. Even the conversations on the bus are about passion and interest and enjoyment. The characters live in a town filled with the memories of people who 'made it big' by their art but they're ALL making art and living passionate lives. It reminds me of a really, really good show I saw called 'The Castle Builder' by Kid Carpet and Vic Llewelyn. It's all about people making amazing works of art in their free time. Not for money or fame or even sometimes to be seen by anyone else but just in order to make it. (That's a real simplification of what it's about but this is a fantastic review of it which gives a much better picture http://exeuntmagazine.com/reviews/review/).

In general I feel like the film wasn't just about people having their own art but through that about people having their own lives. Film's so often are about exceptionalism and encourage exceptionalism in us. There's some shitty motivational quote that I've seen about how we always let ourselves get away with much more than other people because we know the context and the motivations of our own actions and to me that's how we relate to the main characters most films (really a lot of fiction in any medium). We can support them doing things that would normally make us hate a character because we’ve been shown it in their context. It's an odd (but I think true) contradiction that in order to make the main character of a film more relatable to more people you have to make them more special, because everyone is special to themselves. I'm not talking about the idea of 'young people these days' having been told by their teachers and parents that they're unique and so have an inflated sense of their specialness. It's incontrovertible* that everyone has a clearer understanding of their own inner life than they do of anyone else's, and their vision of the world is formed around them. Movies reflect this. Either the main characters in films are incredibly talented/have some other personal quality which makes them stand out or they're an 'ordinary guy' thrust into a strange situation where they have to sort it out. If anything when the 'ordinary guy' is the main character it encourages exceptionalism even more: it doesn't matter that there's nothing that you can pinpoint which makes you amazing, you're the main character, you're John McClane, you're Will Smith in that film where he accidentally gets caught up in all the spy shit.

Paterson completely goes against this trend. It completely unpatronisingly asserts that everyone is special and makes it seem like something both completely obvious and beautifully original rather than an oft repeated cliche. There's a word - sonder- which means 'the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own' (it's made up but then again aren't all words?2) and I think Paterson really encapsulates that word. The friend I saw the film with talked about how great Paterson himself is as a character, his favourite character in recent films, and I agree with him that he's an amazing character but despite that he's hardly the main character. He doesn't do anything more extraordinary than anyone else. And we don't really get any more insight into his character than we do anyone else's. In fact for most of the film I found myself wondering what he was thinking, whether he was happy, even what kind of person he was beyond what we saw. When we were talking I mentioned that although it was 'quirky' and weird it felt more like real life than most other movies because stuff just happened. I think a lot of that comes from the lack of exposition, which also lead to the very loose narrative structure and the fact that Paterson isn't 'the main character'. Obviously he is; he's in the title (though after thinking about it I would argue the film is actually about the town rather than him), the film follows him around, we hear his thoughts/poems and see the world through his eyes, with the camera focusing on the coincidences he sees, time passing on his watch etc. BUT without the exposition we don't frame a narrative around him, when something happens we don't think 'oh that's bad for him because’ or 'YAY that's what he wanted', because there's no exposition to set up his objectives and fears. All the characters in it are people rather than pawns which either help or hinder his objectives. Yes, some of them may be played for laughs (for example the guy at the bus depot who seems to have all the problems of the world) but they are just people whose lives happen to be intersecting with Patterson's, and they never seem like a tool to further the 'plot' (a helpful side-effect of not really having much of one). One of the oddest points of the film for me is at the end where Patterson talks to the Japanese poet. I can't tell whether it's satirising the 'wise mystic Asian' trope or just repeating it. But what makes me feel like it's not JUST repeating it is it feels like the poet sees Paterson the same way as Paterson sees him. It feels like the poet has his own story, in which he talks to this strange bus driver in the town he poetically romanticises. None of the characters are 'fleshed out', we don't find out anyone's physiological motivations or anything like that, but this doesn't stop them from being real people to us, if anything it increases it. We're given a small glimpse into a much larger life that they live, much like those of the people we meet every day.

Earlier I said I think the film's more about the town of Paterson than the man but I think possibly they're the same thing, in more than just their names. He's a metaphor for the rest of the town, for most people as he just keeps doing his ordinary life and has this rich life which isn't what he is known for or defined by. He's not really lying when he says he's not a poet (at least in one way) because in the town most people will never be seen as their private passions, they're seen as their jobs. Even above I didn't refer to the guy who played chess as the chess-player or as the local celebrity enthusiast, but as the 'bar-man'. This is also shown in the fact that the only person who seems defined by their 'art' is Patterson's wife and in order for that to be the case her whole life has to be centralised around creativity and ambition (also possibly motioning to the fact that in our society you have to have the financial freedom and time in order to make this happen, which Laura has by being financially supported by Paterson). Like in the first line of the Maddy Costa article above, the general view is that 'To be obsessed with art, in whatever medium, without making it oneself is to live in a state of quiet disappointment at your own lack of facility and bravery'. I think Paterson is about a rebuttal to that view.c

  THE CASTLE BUILDER (In which I argue back and forth with myself about ART)


I've been thinking recently about The Castle Builder anyway. About people making 'art for art's sake'. I've been thinking about how wonderful the Internet is. I think of people making weird gifs and strange youtube videos (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FavUpD_IjVY) and fanfiction. Does the internet mean that people can make those passion projects which exist outside of money and fame, just as people always have, but that they can be out in the world as well, to be enjoyed and shared (and possibly ‘discovered’?). A fair amount of the media that I consume is created by people who want to make something cool and consumed by me for free. Is this the same as the 'everyday artists' in The Castle Builder (and Paterson)? Is this an alternative (dare I say subversive??) form of entertainment/art culture?

I mean the internet has been painted as a frontier for alternate lifestyles and cultures since its inception, but the cyber 'frontier' has undoubtedly been marketised and for the most part people's internet experiences are mediated by a small number of popular sites, almost all of which are run for profit (whether or not that's a good thing, pioneering anti-establishment spirit sacrificed for being accessible and usable by a much wider group of people, is a discussion for a different time). Art created online can now seem very separate from the ideal of creation untainted by commerce. People who use Twitter and Tumblr can sometimes seem more like 'content creators' making money for the platform than anything else. By gamifying entertainment with a sense of competition with followers and retweets and likes, it feels less like creation for creation's sake and more like something else, like another realm of labour (this is a good video on how game/film/tv consumption can be seen as labour - https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=quWtUnDA8Uk - which is even more the case when you feel pressure to create and maintain an online presence) . And with being a Youtube star now a valid way to become a celebrity it feels like more and more people are turning to it as a way to get famous and turning likes into money.

But what's the problem with that? Surely I shouldn't be complaining about people getting paid and recognised for what they make? The internet can still serve as a democratizing place where people have more choice in how to invest their cultural capital and so creates different stars, different artists get money for what they do. Thinking about it it kind of echoes the recent debate about theatre bloggers. If anyone didn't see it it started with this (https://www.thestage.co.uk/opinion/2016/matt-trueman-why-im-worried-about-the-decline-of-theatre-blogs/?utm_content=bufferc1b1b&utm_medium=social&utm_source=twitter.com&utm_campaign=buffer) Matt Trueman article saying there weren't enough dissenting, independent blogging voices and responses (very good ones (okay admittedly the only ones I've read but that doesn't mean they're any less good) here: https://walkingwithheadphones.wordpress.com/2016/12/16/a-response-from-a-young-and-unpaid-critic-or-theatre-blogger-up-to-you/ and https://www.thestage.co.uk/opinion/2016/megan-vaughan-has-theatre-blogging-really-changed-or-is-it-us/) included talking about the financial strains of unpaid blogging, as well as feelings that people just aren't reading what they write. (also the talk of false nostalgia makes me wonder if all these boring philosophical conundrums are just coming from missing what felt like the refreshing innocence of WoW music videos to Jonathon Coulton songs: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v4Wy7gRGgeA). In the messages I receive from the world that I agree with there's a romanticisation of 'making art for the love of it' (I mean the romance is even in the name), but also full-throated defence of arts spending and funding. I'm not sure how these concepts sit with each other. Are they in opposition? And if they are I have no idea what side of the debate I fall on. Whose art deserves pay and whose doesn't? Does placing increased importance on people making art for themselves give further weight to only people with a lot of money being able to create, or does it encourage people who aren't rich or successful to see what they make as more important, or encourage people to make more? And I get to the point where I know I'm going in circles because there's no way of consolidating my beliefs within society’s current system (and this is the point that if I was saying this out loud I would start speaking in a funny voice because these are all things that I believe but it all seems a bit sincere and poe-faced so just assume my voice is now more nasal%), because in the current world (maybe all possible ones except for those populated only by art-egalitarian squid) some art will get funded and some will not and that will necessarily support a set of values, will give power to some people and groups and not to others.

I mean we've strayed very far from Patterson but I guess I've been thinking about things because I'm graduating soon and I want to make art and I have to make money but I'm not sure how I want those things to interact. Getting into a creative profession takes so much work and there's so many people also trying to do it that I find myself questioning not whether what I would make would be ‘good enough to be professional’ (I've seen enough bad 'professional' work not to think that) but whether it should be. Whether my art, or my voice would add to the vision of what I think the art/theatre world should be more like. I feel like the question that I should be asking myself isn’t ‘what is the point of art?’ or ‘why should I make art?’ because there are many, many possible good answers , but ‘why should people pay for my art?’. And that I’ve got much less of an idea on.

  * I have a really clear mental image of this word being said in a really funny way in a film but can't place what it's from

2 specifically it's from The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows by John Koenig

cI could also write a whole other thing about how the two best films I've seen recently (this and Arrival) have both been thoughtfully hopeful and how much I love it but that's for another time

%My urge to do this, especially when saying words like 'capitalism' or 'heteronormative' reminds me of one of my favourite lines in Edinburgh this year, in 'Mouse' when Daniel Kitson said something along the lines of 'the greatest success of the patriarchy was in making the word seem ridiculous so that anyone who used it's arguments would become immediately invalid. Well not the greatest. The greatest was the systematic oppression of women but you know what I mean.'