#this is one of the artists from that article i sent you

[sam-keeper]

Hey Look At This Comic: Quincy

I can't remember the exact jumps it took me to get to Quincy. I know the starting point: Randy Milholland's guest appearance on Behind the Bastards for a couple episodes on Dennis the Menace. guests on that show tend to be a bit of a live studio audience, there to go "wow" and "yikes" and "[noise of discomfort]" at the right moments. not Milholland, who knows his comics history. boy, I would listen to a whole podcast of him just talking about newspaper strips! anyway, I don't think he mentions Quincy while talking about integrated casts in newspaper comics, but someone he did mention sent me off on a search and someone else mentioned Ted Shearer's Quincy, and well.

you can see, right, why this comic Got Me so fast? what a cartooning style! I'm not going to dwell on Shearer's history--you can read the Comics Journal article on him just as well as I can summarize it. I want to talk about how Shearer draws.

it's hard to do that without reference to other comic strip artists, in particular, standing as foils for Shearer's style. Ernie Bushmiller of Nancy fame is maybe the paragon of an ultra clean iconic style, where everything is almost like the platonic cartoon of what it is. (I've seen Schultz placed in this tradition as well.) not Ted Shearer's work. everything's got little flourishes and elaborations and bends and variations in outline. his comics jiggle. there are times when I'm not totally sure at a glance what his marks are meant to represent, which is a problem if you think the highest calling of comics is to relay information clearly, and a lot less of a problem if you're in love with the sheer artistry of mark making. look at that snowball fight comic, for example, and the wild mess of lines, or the way Quincy's shoes and socks are sketched, in the last panel of the letter to the president comic, with just a few confident pen blotches and a bunch of negative space. even when it's economical, it somehow feels so unsatisfied with the schematic, always searching for a way to make the objects feel a little off kilter, a little dynamic.

check out that first strip there, the one about where Quincy's granny frets over the neighboring building getting demolished, because it's crucial infrastructure for her clothesline. I just paged through a collection of Bloom County I have cause I was like, well Berkley Breathed has pretty dynamic panels too right? nope! Bloom County has a dynamic brushed style that feels similar to Shearer's style, but the panel compositions and the arrangement of characters and camera and environment are typically much more static. even Calvin and Hobbes, aside from the often completely crazy sunday strips, tends to have compositions that might employ a closeup or a distance shot, but tend to have relatively cohesive shots. this three panel strip starts with a panel where Quincy, instead of standing static, listening into the phone call, seems to pop in from the left, tie fluttering with movement. (also, scope the nice tilt on that lampshade, echoing the angle of Quincy's body!) panel two seems to pull out to an unmotivated ultra long shot, that not only gives us the apartment buildings but the fence partly blocking the view! Quincy's environment is so packed that there's no room for the kind of clear view of a building you might get in a Nancy strip. and then the point of that long shot is revealed in the final panel, a CRAZY dutch angle on the two leaning out the window towards the other building, as Granny reveals the other side of her washing line is going to get torn down. to accentuate this, the sheets on the line billow, again at an angle counter to the window, Granny, and Quincy.

Shearer seems never content to just have a series of characters in situations talking to each other. his viewpoint is always swinging around, his characters always turning to show new angles of themselves. the letter comic here is the most conventional strip of the lot and even this has only two relatively similar poses. all three standing poses are in wildly different positions and angles, front, then spinning to the side, then back, tilting left, tilting right.

he also has this tendency to have characters pop up almost as though they can see the camera. it's not enough that a straightman in Quincy should turn to the audience--they tend to pop towards the foreground. in that clothesline comic, Quincy doesn't look to Granny but to us, as though inviting us to join him in wondering about the phone call that has Granny so worried. in the composition of that circus comic, Shearer finds room for the characters, despite the size of the animals, at the borders of the comic, and is willing to embrace way more pronounced perspective than I'm used to seeing in daily gag strips to do it. look at that kid just sorta peeking over the bottom edge of the frame in that last panel! there's other comics of his where inexplicably another kid in Quincy's class, for example, will just pop their head up in the last panel, somehow accentuating the punchline with their non sequitur appearance. like real kids, Shearer's kids are unruly. like a real poor urban area, the very material of the landscape is unruly.

that TCJ article lays out what Shearer's motivation may have been, for such a vibrant and lived in strip:

"My first idea is to get people to like Quincy, to get them involved with the character, and then they can see for themselves the broken-down home, the torn sneakers, etc. Then perhaps readers will say, ‘Gee, maybe we can help.’ Or even the poor white can say, ‘Gee I went through this same thing myself.’"

that approach can only work because of the detail Shearer's panels overflow with. one more comparison: don't Shearer's landscapes sometimes feel a bit like George Herriman's wobbly, shape-filled landscapes in Krazy Kat? just, less weird cacti and more scrungly fire hydrants and snaggle-toothed fences. the move from panel to panel doesn't always make diegetic sense, much like the landscape moves around Krazy, but it's so lush that in total it creates a place that feels lived in, enough that it still connects with me 40 or 50 years later. that seems a testament to Shearer's strategy, and probably has some lessons for the Clarity of Communication school of comics theory.

it all adds up to a work that should be in the pantheon right alongside someone like Bill Watterson. I don't think I've ever heard anyone talk about Shearer, though. the broadest history I have--Harvey's Art of the Comic Book--doesn't cite him; nor Wolk's Reading Comics. like a lot of histories, Gardner's Projections loses track of newspaper strips sometime between the rise of Stan Lee and the rise of Comix With An X. some of that's the way the history's been canonized, but some of the way the history's been canonized is surely due to institutional racism and the pinning of the modern Art History of Comics on white men like R Crumb.

what Quincy deserves is a way of following it now... but that's not an infrastructure I can imagine anyone is interested in building. sites like comics kingdom or gocomics have snubbed rss technology for presumably the same reason social media increasingly gates all content from non-users: gotta juice the numbers and make sure direct access is the only business in town. which is sorta bizarre when it comes to a strip like this because who is signing up for a comicskingdom account, sitting down, and reading through a decade of Quincy strips? if they're already just putting the lot online for free (which, hey, I'm grateful for that, especially from a historical access perspective!!), why not set up a way to cycle through that history in a feed, shipping out the strips in the format they were meant for: something you'd see daily? but, I'm the weirdo who thinks basically the whole internet should be embracing a more broadcast syndication model. at least the comics are readable online, which means that maybe bit by bit Ted Shearer's work can get the wider cultural attention something this virtuosic deserves.

this post originally ran on Cohost on Jul 31, 2024. you can read more reviews in the Hey Look At This Comic tag and support me on Patreon.

[straycatj]

Not Rocky, only sucky — A record of the unauthorized use of my photo in Oliver Clegg’s work

This article documents the events surrounding the unauthorized use of one of my photographs in a work named Rocky by Oliver Clegg, from the initial discovery through to the current situation.

Please consider this a formal report for those who have supported me.

September 7, 2021

I posted a photo of my cat Kofuku and Mr.J.

At the time, someone even made a pixel art version of it, and many people enjoyed it together.

January 2023

A kind follower sent me a mention to a post introducing a “work” by Oliver Clegg.

Clegg later claimed he had tagged my Instagram, but in fact he had created a brand-new tag called “straycatmrj.” This has also been documented.

By that point, someone had already annotated his work via Hypothesis, raising questions about his use of materials.

February 2025

The traced work resurfaced. I began an investigation.

That same month, I consulted a lawyer through an initiative supported by Japan’s Agency for Cultural Affairs:

Bansou.Support – a legal support service for copyright infringement and similar issues on the internet.

I was informed that:

Because the image is viewable online from Japan, this constitutes copyright infringement under Japanese law.

In my case, this use clearly does not fall under fair use.

My rights are protected internationally under the Berne Convention, regardless of the creator residing in the United States.

April 2025

Once again, I saw another traced work posted.

The uploader promptly removed the post and even issued a follow-up to explain the situation. I deeply appreciate their response.

However, the traced image continued to be reblogged.

I decided to follow through on my prior consultation and contact the gallery representing Mr. Clegg.

April 30, 2025 (JST)

I contacted the gallery directly.

A lawyer had advised that “this kind of issue is often treated seriously as a matter of credibility by galleries, so it’s worth contacting them.”

However, I received no response—perhaps because I am merely a Japanese individual blogger.

May 3, 2025 (JST)

I sent a follow-up message, stating that unless I received a response by the close of business on May 6 (EDT), I would make the findings public.

May 7, 2025

With no reply, I published the facts and timeline on Tumblr.

Many people offered support. However, I also witnessed comments that ignored all legal context, and some individuals spread false assumptions and slander.

Such baseless speculation only reveals more about the mindset and behavior of those making it.

I would like to take this opportunity to again express my sincere gratitude to those who responded respectfully and supported me.

May 8, 2025

24 hours later, with more response than expected, I published a follow-up thank-you note in the form of a reblog.

May 9, 2025 (Night)

60 hours later, I discovered that the relevant Tumblr tags were no longer functioning.

I suspected a technical issue—or possibly a report by someone connected to the other party.

I contacted Tumblr Community Support, and they responded promptly, stating that the issue had been resolved and would be reflected within 24 hours.

Shortly thereafter, the tag search functionality returned to normal.

May 10, 2025

72 hours later: search results had shifted.

Tumblr Search When searching for the artist’s name, I noticed that the specific work featuring my cat no longer appears in search results.

Google Image Search The image now appears to be filtered under SafeSearch.

Once again, I would like to express my heartfelt gratitude to everyone who supported and stood with me.

Thanks again to everyone who helped clarify the origin of the image.

(This post may be useful to those researching digital appropriation or copyright boundaries in art.)

[rosones]

social media au - being an actress dating choi seunghyun pt. 6

liked by y/n, & 2,484,212 others

ttt ✓ - more to come

view comments

user - he gives 2016 tumblr vibes sooooo much

user - he NEEDS to post more selfies

user - my husband fr

user - maybe babygirl is a 37 year old Korean man named choi seunghyun

y/n ✓ - mr yummy

liked by author

liked by y/n, xxxibgdrgn, & 6,381,798 others

ttt ✓ - EXILE , THE ALBUM . 5.5.25

view comments

user - we are SO back

userlikesphotography231 - is this a drawing of y/n??

user - /@userlikesphotography231 considering the gorgeous silhouette + the fact that Top is obsessed with her, most likely is her lol

xxxibgdrgn ✓ - so happy for you, my brother 🤍🌼

ttt ✓ - /@xxxibgdrgn 🤍🤍🤍

user - so fucking excited for his comeback

user - as a VIP, I used to pray for times like this 🥹

user - already album of the year and it ain’t even out yet

liked by y/n, xxxibgdrgn, gq, & 7,342,447 others

ttt ✓ - Vogue Korea

view comments

user - he’s SO fine

user - y/n better share him

y/n ✓ - MY man

liked by author

user - this made my hole weak

user - jawline sculpted by the gods

the following article was written by journalist Kim Do-Yun & published by Vogue Korea .

T.O.P Returns: A Candid Conversation on Redemption, Love, and ‘Exile’

By: Kim Do-Yun

Choi Seung-hyun—better known as T.O.P. for years, was one of K-pop’s most enigmatic figures: a deep-voiced rapper, a captivating performer, an artist who thrived in mystery. But mystery turned to scandal when his 2017 marijuana case sent shockwaves through South Korea’s entertainment industry. The fallout was brutal, the silence that followed even more so.

Now, after years spent in near-complete solitude, he’s back—not just with music, but with acting, love, and a newfound perspective on life.

Throughout my interview with him, he exuded a quiet confidence, different from the playful arrogance he once carried as a member of BIGBANG. He has always been measured in his words, but that day, there was something more—an openness, a willingness to be seen for who he truly is, not just who the public wants him to be.

Facing the Shadows

“I won’t pretend it was easy,” he admitted. “There was a time when I thought I might never return to music or acting. I felt like I had lost the right to stand in front of people again.”

Following the scandal, T.O.P withdrew almost entirely from the entertainment world. There were sporadic updates—glimpses of his art collection, a few cryptic Instagram posts—but nothing substantial.

“I needed time,” he said simply. “Time to understand my own mind, my mistakes, and what I wanted from life. I spent years writing & making music with no intention of releasing it. It was a way of surviving, I think. But at some point, I realized I didn’t just want to create in the shadows anymore.”

That realization birthed his upcoming album, Exile, a deeply personal project that delves into themes of isolation, redemption, and transformation.

The Concept Behind Exile

“I see Exile as a letter to my past self,” he explained. “It’s about being cast out—sometimes by others, but more often by yourself. It’s about wandering, finding meaning in solitude, and ultimately, choosing to return.”

The album is a drastic departure from his earlier work, blending experimental hip-hop and jazz influences. The soundscape is layered, atmospheric—reflecting the emotional depth of a man who has lived through both adoration and condemnation.

“There’s pain in the music, but there’s also hope,” he continued. “It’s not just about suffering—it’s about what comes after. How do you rebuild yourself when the world thinks you’ve already fallen?”

The lead single, Ashes, encapsulates this journey. “It’s about burning down what no longer serves you and rising from it,” he explained. “Not in a dramatic way—no big explosion. Just embers, slow and steady, turning into something new.”

Reclaiming His Place in Acting: ‘Squid Game’ and Thanos

But music isn’t the only thing marking T.O.P’s return. His casting in Netflix’s Squid Game Season 2 sent fans into a frenzy, a bold choice for an artist who had stayed away from the spotlight for so long.

“I never thought I’d act again,” he admitted. “I had offers over the years, but I wasn’t ready. Then I read the script for Squid Game 2, and something in me woke up. It was exactly the kind of story I wanted to tell.”

In the highly anticipated sequel to the global phenomenon, T.O.P plays Thanos, a complex and ruthless figure within the deadly games. Unlike the participants struggling to survive, Thanos is a former winner—one who chose to return.

“He’s not a traditional villain,” T.O.P clarified. “He’s someone who understands the system better than anyone else. He’s cold, calculating, but not without emotion. He knows what it takes to survive, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes—not for money, but for something deeper. Something he lost.”

The role demanded an emotional transformation. “The hardest part was getting into his mindset. Thanos isn’t just playing the game—he’s manipulating it. He’s someone who has seen too much, lost too much.”

The weight of the character stayed with him long after filming wrapped. “I think I related to him more than I expected,” he admitted. “Not in his actions, but in his solitude. In that feeling of being outside of everything, even when you’re in the center of it.”

Love & Chaos

It was on the Squid Game set that T.O.P met someone who would change everything—his co-star, Y/N. Their connection, first built through long filming days, soon grew into something deeper.

“She saw me for who I was, not just who the world made me out to be,” he said, a softness in his voice. “There’s something freeing about that—being with someone who knows both your darkness and your light and chooses to stay anyway.”

For someone who spent so long rebuilding himself alone, letting someone in was no easy task. “I used to think love was another thing I had lost the right to,” he confessed. “But she changed that.”

Their relationship became public in a way that no one expected—through a series of intimate photos posted on Instagram. They felt raw, real, and unlike other polished celebrity relationships.

“I was nervous,” T.O.P admitted. “Not because I was ashamed—but because I knew how people might react. I knew what it meant to expose something so personal in a place where people think they have the right to dissect every part of your life.”

Y/N, however, had a different perspective. “She told me, ‘Why should we hide something that makes us happy?’ And she was right,” he said. “For so long, I lived in fear of what people would say. But love isn’t something to be ashamed of. If anything, it’s something to be proud of.”

Now, with both Exile and Squid Game, their love story is no longer a secret—but he’s still extremely protective of it. “I don’t need people to approve,” he said. “I just need her.”

Looking Ahead

As our conversation started nearing its end, I asked him what he hoped people will take away from his return.

“I don’t expect everyone to forgive me, and I don’t expect to go back to who I was before. That person is gone,” he said. “But I hope people will listen. Not just to the music, but to the story behind it. I hope they see that exile isn’t the end—it’s just another beginning.”

With Exile set to drop and his acting career reignited, T.O.P is stepping into the spotlight once again—not as the idol he once was, but as an artist and a man who has found his way back from the shadows.

——————————————————————————————————

I wanted to write that little article portion because I wanted to add something unique to this fic, this part is also why I took a little long to post something new !! I haven’t written like an actual piece of writing on this account so I’m like excited and nervous at the same time lol. anyway, I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it !! xx

[waynes-multiverse]

I’m obsessed now with Soldier Boy with an artist!reader❤️ do you think you can write something where Ben sees one of readers pieces and is actually impressed? Like he gets all soft and compliments her (idc if it’s ooc😭) and reader gets all shy since he’s never that nice. Keep doing your awesome work I love reading everything you do!

A/N: I know you sent me this a long time ago, but it always stayed with me! I honestly loved that pairing so much, so here it finally is – another installment of Ben dating an artist! ☺️🎨

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Artist!Reader

Warnings: language, humor, weirdly not that OOC, established relationship, fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

Main Masterlist || Soldier Boy Masterlist || Tag List

Drawn to You

He’s not supposed to be in here.

You left him on the couch with snacks and an old action movie that usually keeps him entertained for at least two hours ��� three if there’s enough gratuitous violence. But now, somehow, Ben’s standing in the middle of your studio like he’s caught you doing something wrong.

You’re not even sure why you left the painting out. It’s half-finished, not even something you meant to show him – or anyone, really. But the corner of the canvas had been poking out from under the drop cloth, and of course he has no sense of boundaries.

Now he’s standing in front of it like he just discovered fire – or maybe a grenade he forgot he’d thrown. Arms crossed over that broad and proud chest of his, sparkling green eyes narrowed, plush mouth slightly open.

Confused admiration.

You hover awkwardly by the studio doorway, heart ticking a little too fast in your chest. “It’s not done.”

He doesn’t respond right away. Just tilts his head a little, still staring. “You did this?”

“Uh-huh…”

There’s a beat of silence. You chew the inside of your cheek.

The background of the piece is still unfinished. You’ve been working on it for days – an abstract portrait, full of deep greens, reds, golds and harsh brush strokes. It’s raw. A little messy. Way too personal.

“You didn’t tell me you were hiding this in here.”

Your head whirls around, already flustered. “I’m not hiding anything, you just–… This is my space!”

“Yeah, and I just breached it like fuckin' Normandy.” He purses his lips, not paying much attention to you, head still jerking left and right, eyes fixed on the canvas. “Huh. You’re actually fuckin’ good.”

You blink. “Wait, what?!”

His eyes flick toward you, still that familiar sharp green, but softer than usual. “I said you’re good. Don’t make me repeat it.” He gestures toward the canvas, vaguely. “All this color, the-… what’s the word – texture. It’s got–…” He squints, licks his lips, searching for something. “Depth. That’s what they call it, right?”

“Uhm…” You tuck a paint-smeared hand behind your back. “Yeah, that’s, uh, usually the goal.”

He nods like he knows exactly what he’s talking about, like he didn’t just learn that word from an article someone else read to him. “It’s got, like… emotion. Makes you feel things. Which is weird, ‘cause I don’t usually–” He breaks off, shrugging. “You know.”

You can’t help it – you snort a laugh. “Feel things?”

“Shut up,” he says, but there’s no bite in it. His mouth twitches like he’s fighting a smile. “I’m fuckin’ serious. This is the kinda shit people should be talking about. Not those goddamn… squiggly dot paintings you showed me last week.”

“Those were pointillism. It’s a style.”

“It’s a migraine. Looked like someone sneezed on a fuckin’ napkin.”

You roll your eyes, heat creeping up your neck. “Well, thanks, I guess.”

“Not ‘thanks, I guess.’” He steps closer, and something about the way he’s looking at you – uncharacteristically gentle, borderline sincere – makes you feel suddenly very small. “You’re talented. Like, actually talented. This is good. Museum good. Better than half the shit I’ve had to pretend to like at galas.”

You make a noise – somewhere between a laugh and a scoff – and look away, suddenly way too interested in the floor. “You’re being nice to me. What’s going on? Are you finally dying? Is it actually happening?”

He never says anything is good. The best you’ve gotten before was “not bad, considering you listen to sad girl music while doing it.”

“Careful,” he warns, but there is that hint of playfulness that swings with the word. “But seriously, I’ve seen a lot of shit in my day. Back in the ‘60s, I ended up at one of those warehouse things. You know, big parties, free booze, fuckin' weirdos in sunglasses? Some guy with a mop of white hair kept trying to talk to me about soup cans.”

Your brows draw tightly together. “Are you talking about Andy Warhol?”

“Yeah! That’s the one.” He shrugs casually, rolling his eyes at the memory. “Kept calling everything ‘genius’ and offering me a banana. Thought he was a fruitcake. Turned out he was famous. Who knew?”

You stare at him. “You met Andy Warhol?!”

“Briefly. Didn’t like him. Too smug. Liked to talk about himself a lot.”

Your lips curl in amusement, muttering, “Pot. Kettle.”

“You always paint like this?” he asks then, and it’s the softness in his voice that stays with you. He’s still looking at the painting like it surprised him.

“Only when I’m trying to work stuff out in my head,” you admit.

He nods slowly, eyes narrowing just a little. He looks at the canvas like it just whispered state secrets to him. You watch his expression shift from surprise to something dangerously close to pride. Like he found a shiny rock in a field and decided it must be a diamond.

“So what are you working out here?”

You hesitate. You don’t want to say it out loud, but a lot of it is him. The chaos, the unpredictability. The way he storms into your life and makes it impossible to think straight.

“I don’t know,” you lie. “Stuff.”

“Mmm.” He gives you a knowing look but doesn’t push. Instead, he reaches out – almost touches the canvas, then thinks better of it. “I like it. It’s loud. Kinda like you.”

Your mouth drops slightly. “I am not loud!”

He grins like the devil then – more like the man you know so well. “Yeah? Tell that to your neighbors when I fuck you, angel.”

You shove him lightly, and he doesn’t even flinch. Of course he doesn’t. Doesn’t even move an inch. Just catches your hand in his like he always does – easy, delicate – like it belongs there.

“I mean it, though,” he says, and his voice is lower now, less teasing. “You’re good. Like… makes-me-shut-up kind of good.”

He finally looks at you, and there’s something different in his expression. Less cocky, more real. Like maybe, maybe, he’s seeing you for the first time and not just his chaotic, caffeine-fueled girlfriend who lives off granola bars and impulse.

You look away, cheeks burning. “Stop it.”

Your heart does something deeply inconvenient – skips, flutters, maybe backflips. He’s got it doing gymnastics. God, you hate when he gets like this. All curious and quiet and goddamn nice like he didn’t punch a man into the sun two days ago.

“What, I’m being supportive.”

“You’re scaring me,” you quip, laughing a little – probably due to uncomfortableness and jittering nerves. “Seriously, who are you and what have you done with the arrogant man-child I’m dating?”

He doesn’t answer instantly – which is weird. Because usually, silence with him means he’s about to say something wildly inappropriate or launch into a story about the time he suplexed a Nazi into a tank.

Instead, he pulls you closer by the hand he’s still holding – slow, calm, like you’re a feral cat he doesn’t want to spook – and gently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear with his knuckle. He smiles like he can read your thoughts. “You’re blushing.”

“No, I’m not.”

“You totally are.” His smirk is infuriating.

“I have paint on my face.”

“It’s under the paint.”

You swat his chest, because it’s easier than admitting he’s right. Ben, on the other hand, grins like a smug golden retriever with biceps.

“Gonna paint me next?” he asks. “Something tasteful. Maybe a toga – or no toga.”

You deadpan, “I could paint your mouth shut.”

He laughs, big and real and unfiltered. “God, you’re hot when you sass me.”

You roll your eyes so hard you see your past lives, but your heart still stutters in your chest like a traitor. You look up at him, but you’re smiling now, warm and glowing, even if you’re trying not to show it.

“You really like it?” you ask, quieter this time, almost afraid of the answer.

He doesn’t even hesitate, just smiles. “I really do.”

Hope you guys liked this! It's been stuck in my head forever. Glad I finally got to it 🥰

Let me know what you think! My inbox is always open for more of these shenanigans 😉💚

Looking for more Soldier Boy x Artist!Reader? Check out these stories:

🎨 French Boys

🎨 He Comes In Colors

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[illnessfaker]

tw: black+trans death

from the_yvesdropper on instagram:

our beautiful black trans brother, 35 year old Righteous Torrence "Chevy" Hill, was murdered in Atlanta, GA this weekend.

he went by his nickname 'Chevy' he was originally from Macon, GA. he owned Evollusion, which is a black/ queer owned LGBTQ+ salon in Atlanta that provided and dedicated full service to specializing in hair, nails, barbering and makeup. growing up as young black queer boys/kids, the barbershop experience can sometimes be a tricky space to occupy, this was something that Chevy understood and wanted to cultivate a space of safety where you can also get the affirming look and style you want, and he did exactly that.

Chevy was a beloved son, brother, partner, and father.

one of his last posts that had a photo of himself said :

"if you truly know me, you know i am a humble, modest, private man, that i love my community, i have the love of God in me and will give the shirt off my back to any soul in need, also i never post pictures of myself, legaey give myself credit, that stops today, i am my legacy!"

(a close friend of Chevy asked if i could share more then one photo of Chevy, since he never posted photos of himself and in recent years he got the confidence to want to share more photos and now he won't get the chance to)

Chevy, hey king, hey brother, hey angel, thank you for everything, i lové you, we lové you, i'm so sorry. there are a lot of photographers in heaven who will be able to photograph you as the glorious black trans angel that you are.

there will be a homegoing service/memorial for our brother

there aren't many details about what happened but apparently he was shot by a family member last wednesday, the 28th (at least this article was the one linked in relation to his murder.)

judging by both the IG post and the comments section he was well-loved by many people and those people have many good memories with him and nothing but good things to say. this is a comment that was left by tirajmeansgolden which was hidden by IG for some reason:

I started testosterone in February 2020. I hit this man up at the end of 2019 after numerous Google searches for an LGBT-friendly barber near me (and by near me... he was a good 35-40 minutes from the rural area I was in outside of Atlanta: but when I found out he was a trans man and that his business was the first and only LGBT hair bar, I knew it would be worth the trip). I was a dysphoric mess in his DMs one Sunday. I hated how my hair was growing out. I never had a "masculine" hairstyle before but decided one day I would buzz it all off myself, then allowed it to grow out a bit... I sent him a video and despite him being closed on Sunday, he told me to come through. I got my hair braided and he gave me my first really masculine fade. Explained the different terms. Lined me up. Was asking me about my decision to transition and provided some helpful advice + guidance. I told him how I was a therapist and he was hype and said he talked with a group of trans men and he would love for me to stop by and also give some mental health tips. So whoever said he was humble - wow, what an understatement. Such a community man! Made me feel SO comfortable because barbershops were a source of major trauma and triggers for me. They were such an integral part of my early transition (I just celebrated 4 years later week). And he was such an integral part of the Atlanta Queer community with hosting events like Queer Con. How I found so many other great resources + queer businesses/artists. May you rest in peace, Chevy. You'll be missed. You've made such a different in the lives of countless people. You definitely were living your Purpose + left a legacy behind ...

[fashionteahouse]

out of your league - paul x reader

AN: Seriously, I can’t thank you guys enough for showing so much love and support to fifteen parts of this story ! kisses to all you xoxo <<prev >>next

Picking up the wooden present that was now dry, eyes swam around the picture. Usually, you were a tough critic on what you create.

“This is actually good.” you thought to yourself with confidence.

Looking around the home that you and Paul shared, you found an empty moving box in the storage space and slid the canvas in it to prevent it from getting messed up.

Peeking through a window, you noticed the pattering had stopped and saw that the dampness from the rain was still prevalent. Drops of rain had stopped falling from the sky.

Checking the time, it was early afternoon. Making a small note for Paul, you grab your jacket. You decided to take a bus to Port Angeles. You didn’t want to be the one to drive.

You gladly take in the worldly scenery. Taking everything in, you wanted to be as inspired as possible. Your upcoming trip excited you and made you thankful for sticking to your dream.

Thankfully, the traffic on the sidewalks weren’t crowded.

However, a record store caught your attention. Wanting to check it out, you made your way in. The hard plastic covers of nostalgic artists that you used to listen to, were staring right back you. You had thoughts about enjoying physical media and even had your eye on a cd player that was on sale.

Impulse buying both the cd player and cd, you leave the store ready to use it. You walk with a stroll in your steps as you tear open the box that the purchase was in, throwing the box away in the shopping bag. Peeling the stickers off, you were able to pop open the case and you carefully placed the cd in. As you untangled the headphones that was suitable for it your fingers fumbled the cd player and your face grimaced as you tried your best to save the drop.

Being unsuccessful on your side, pale hands startled you as it caught it expeditiously. Holding it with ease.

Looking at their shoes and seeing the music player in their hands, you slowly look up and see those familiar eyes that you so badly tried to forget, staring back at you. He stood there frozen in front of you as you take it back.

“Thanks.” you say quietly and he pierced his gaze onto you.

“What’s in it?” he asked with inquisitiveness.

You don’t say anything, holding up the newly purchased cd.

A corner of his lip lifts a bit, “I don’t think I’m familiar with that one.”

The artist was someone you held dearly to your heart. People that you knew or were close to you, never really heard of them and you grew to love that. Their sounds were unique but also calming in a way on your pallet.

You stand up, “Thanks again.”

Turning to walk away, you jerk a bit from the cool hand being placed on the arm of your jacket, “Wait.” you hear him say.

Hearing what he has to say, his mouth opens then closes it with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Are you messing with me or something?” you ask, narrowing your eyes.

He looks surprised a bit at such accusation and shakes his head, “No.” He squares his shoulders and then goes on, “My sister has sent you an email. You haven’t responded to it. It’s for Bella’s birthday party that she wants to throw.”

“Yeah, I don’t know about that. Plus, Bella told me wants us to do something small.”

He nods a little.

“How did…Alice.. Get my email address?” you ask out as you did your best to remember the name of the sender.

A small smile goes back to his lips, “That was easy. She found your article of when you won that art contest a while back. It had your email there.” You didn’t expect to see the small look of being impressed in his eyes.

You look to the ground as the cd player you had was tight in your hands.

“Will you come?” Edward asks you and his hard eyes struck at you.

“Uh, no offense but…No way.” you say, your eyes growing out at such suggestion. You were a bit surprised at the shock that he displayed, he actually thought you were going to say yes.

“And why?” he asks.

You take a shaky breath in as you watch your surroundings, “I’m sure you’re smart. How many…Vampires will be in attendance?” you ask in a hushed tone.

His eyes shifted nervously a bit but he quickly recoups himself and you felt lucky that you didn’t miss catching it.

”You’re not afraid of wolves, but you’re afraid of vampires who don’t feed from humans.” he says in a joking tone, him having a kick out of your response.

This makes you scoff but then huff out a small laugh, “That’s a good one. A vampire that doesn’t feed from humans.”

“It’s true.” he says as his smile starts to fade, wanting you to believe him.

Placing a hand on your chin, “Hm. I guess you suck air instead.”

“I’m serious.” he says with hardness, wanting you to stop joking on such manner but the amused smile from your joke never leave your face. Your finger does fall from your chin.

He looks around a bit before leaning a bit, “Would you like to know?”

“I’ll just have Paul tell me.” you say.

“I’m afraid Paul doesn’t know everything.” he says, almost cringing at speaking Paul’s name.

You shrug.

“Where were you headed?” he asks.

“Why? Where’s Bella?” you ask.

“She’s with her friend Jake at the reservation.” he answers.

“So, you got bored and decided to come to Port Angeles?” you say without interest.

“I came to see you.” he says but has a look of concentration before resuming, “Look, I can answer your questions. I’m sure Paul already told you about the treaty me and my family have with the quileutes.”

“The treaty doesn’t mean anything. You and your family still caused him to leave his normal life and shift.” you tell him.

He showcased a crooked, amused smile, “Are you sure it was my family or is it the new threats coming in throughout Washington? The constant “animal attacks?”, he pauses to shake his head, “Me and my family have been coming in and out for over 70 years and have you noticed there’s no elder werewolves that you know of? If you did, you’d met them, especially by now.” he says in a tone only you could hear as the sidewalks started to have more and more people walking.

He held the door open for you as you walked through the library that wasn’t crowded. Sitting in a plush study chair in a corner, you notice he feels more comfortable. His back is to the wall as you sit diagonal but close.

“I didn’t forget what you said about me.” you tell him in a hushed tone. His eyes look to you as he encourages you to go on. They still took time to get used to.

You look down as you bounce your leg a bit to bring the words out, “You said, hypothetically, and I quote, ‘you have something about yourself that’s unusual.’ What did you mean by that?” You then rise your eyes to look at him look down at the table. He’s relaxed against the chair with a nonchalant expression.

“If I tell you, will you promise to think about coming?” he asks.

“Why would I promise you anything?”

“You’ve figured a lot out. What’s being said needs to stay in this library and at this table. I know you told Bella to promise not to tell me that you know what I am.”

“How?” you challenge, she told you that he left. He just gives you a look.

You huff a bit in frustration, as you look around the library. Only trickles of people were walking around, but nowhere near close to where you both were.

Under the table you cross your two fingers, “I’ll try to think about it.”

He seems satisfied enough as he then thinks for a moment.

“Which would you like to know first? How I knew or what I find unusual?”

“You pick.” you say jerking your head a bit.

He leans forward a bit before speaking out and that same look of focus was back on his stone face, “I just see colors. Like…a whirlwind of colors. It’s strange.”

You look around in confusion. Sure there were posters that had splashes of colors but his chuckle brings your eyes back to yours. He waits a bit before turning serious.

“I mean in your mind.” he clarifies.

“In my mind?” you ask to see if he’s serious.

“Yes.” he answers flatly.

Silence falls as you look at dust that’s floating in the distant light of the window.

“You don’t see words? What I’m thinking?”

He shakes his head as he looks down at the table to concentrate, “No. If the emotion from you is strong enough…They form into..” he shakes his head, he doesn’t know how to describe it. It was unusual for him.

“I don’t know..It’s like the colors try to come together to create something.” he finishes, hoping it’s the best way to describe it. It was challenging to bring what he sees in your head, into words.

“So, what about me and Bella’s talk?”

“I had left out but I was still in earshot. That’s all.” he says.

You roll your eyes, “Of course.”

You then look to him as he still stares at you with one look, “Your eyes aren’t red like the one that I saw.”

This peaks his interest. “You saw one?”

“Yeah. Not to get too into details-” you start but he cuts you off.

“No, please. Do tell.” he says politely but the look on his face showed great zeal for the topic. The energy surrounding this statement brought you in to speak on what you saw.

You then explain the situation of the first time going to the cliffs by yourself, to prove that it wasn’t you willingly walking to danger. How on the way there, the inhuman figure got ready to attack you. Paul and the others came to your defense, killing and dismembering it and setting it to fire. Not an ounce of boredom was on Edward’s face. Your mind brought him into the world of the story, he saw the colors of red vicious eyes, the bluish fire, and he even saw a hint of the picture you drew of the experience when you had trouble sleeping. It all flowed together on accord. He wished you hadn’t changed the image of the picture in your mind so fast, he wanted to look at it longer. It was a clear picture and he could almost feel being there.

“The cliffs are in La Push land, right?” he asks inquisitively.

You nod.

“You and Bella being friends make more sense. Both being danger magnets.” he says with humor.

You shake your head being serious, “I feel like I’m in danger now. I know about the incident which landed her in the hospital. I know that the story was bogus. What really happened?”

“Pushy are we? You better think long and hard about coming to this party.” Edward says with his cheek resting on his hand.

“Why do you want me to come so bad?” you ask.

He takes an intake of breath through his nose, as he stared ahead with his arm resting on the table. “That I can’t tell you.”

You nudge his arm feeling annoyed, “Why not? You’re going to lure me in so your family can feast on me?”

He looks down at the spot that you touched him and back at you with a look of innocent amusement that you haven’t seen from him before.

“Me and my family don’t feast from humans. That’s why our eyes aren’t red.” he says trying to smoothly change the subject.

You cross your arms as you leaned back a bit in your chair, giving him a stone cold look.

“We’re vegetarians.”

This brings out a laugh from you, “You cannot be serious.”

He shrugs, not taking offense to your laughter, even sporting a small grin of his own, “It’s what we call it. Instead of human blood, it’s animal blood.”

You nod with understanding but you didn’t think it was possible. It must’ve explained the amber color. As you take in the color of his eyes, he looks to you with intensity but you shift your eyes somewhere else not wanting to hold that gaze.

“And with Bella, a nomad attacked her and..We had to save her. We used the story that we used to not bring light to the real truth.” he explains.

You look at him with skepticism, “A bite mark?”

“He bit her.” He says, knowing that you were blaming him.

“Make it all make sense.”

“I sucked the venom out. If I didn’t get there in time..” he says as he remembers but you say, “No doctors have noticed?”

“Carlisle is one. He knew the doctor in Phoenix. Pulling some strings, Carlisle was able to treat what he wanted.” he says casually but you don’t even know who that person is.

He doesn’t give you the opportunity to ask.

“So.” he says as he shifts a bit in his seat.

“So.” you answer back.

“Going to New York?” he asks with a polite smile. Of course, she told him.

“It’s for business and no you can’t come.” you say not being friendly in your response.

This brings out a small laugh from him and he then shakes his head a bit, “I don’t get why you stay here. Especially in La Push.” he says with his brows knitted. He just didn’t understand it. He found himself wishing he could be able to understand it.

“My soulmate.” you tell him defensively.

His look is bored when you tell him this, “You sure will miss out on a lot.”

“How old are you?” you ask to change the subject.

He catches this but chooses not to circle back and has a grin, “109.”

“You should be in a nursing home instead of a high school. And how are you 109 and you haven’t heard of-“ you say and hold up the hard copy cd.

He shrugs.

“Get it together old man.” you say in a disappointed tone.

Smiling a bit, he slides the cd player to himself as he just holds one headphone a bit close to his ear, he pressed play. He did it in a smooth manner to where the music flowed out before you knew it.

He actually listened to the entire song that was on the first track as you read the back on the cd. You popped it open as you pulled out the lyric sheet.

“Not bad.” he says, pleased that the somewhat new gen music wasn’t horrible, sliding your items back to you.

”Exactly.” you quietly say as you folded the lyric sheet back up and put it back in its place.

“Are you into classical music?” He asks.

“I had a lengthy period timeline of listening to it while I would study.” you say as you thought back to the era. You even thought about buying a keyboard to play. But, you knew where your heart resided.

“Do you have a favorite song?” he asks, surprised but at the same time not surprised, he figured you’re deep into the arts.

You tilt your head to the sky with your arms crossed as you thought about it. Edward caught glimpses of the colors of the covers that you mentally searched through, that you remember putting in your playlist.

“It’s like…Something that starts with a D, et Chloe: part lll. I remember the part because of the tallies.” You say, still in thought.

He had a look of thought as well, “Ravel?”

“I think. Don’t quote me on it.” you say as you then watch him interrupt what he was going to say to your response and says, “I gotta go.”

Before any form of a processed state of mind could be made, he wasn’t there. All that was left was remembrance of him being there. You look beside you to see both Kim and Emily. Kim held the door for Emily as you knew for a fact that Kim suggested this place. It was you two that found this hidden gem together years back.

Emily was the one who spotted you. She wasn’t vocal about it but she rushed to where you were. You both hugged as she then says, “Went shopping without me?” She circles around you as you both gush about what you had purchased.

Kim doesn’t say anything as she sits down in a seat where a certain somebody sat in.

“Getting a book?” you ask her.

“Yes. Now, come with me.” she says and pulls your arm.

You both idly walk in the aisle where the genre she’s looking for is located.

You let your eyes run across the spines of the books as Emily picks one up and reads the back of one.

“Did you get one?” she asks.

“Nope. I just got here.” you tell her.

She then lights up with her eyes, “Guess what?”

You return with a smile, “What.”

“With you leaving, I figured I should visit home.” she says excitedly as your eyes land on the book that she had interest in. It was a recipe book.

“Really? I mean…You could’ve came out of town with me.” you offer, thinking of the fun you both could have exploring the city together if you had free time.

“Oh, I’m sure you’re going to be there more than one time.” she says with certainty.

“You give me too much credit.” you say quietly as you at other books that were around.

“You’ve been invited out of town and someone paid your way. I have a feeling this won’t be the last time you experience this.” Emily says with a knowing look.

“Plus, since I’ve moved in with Sam, I haven’t seen my mom in person. I took this as a sign to spend some type of time with her.” she adds on as she tucks the book under her arms and sees if something else catches her attention.

Kim ends up joining you two as you stand next to Emily as she checks out a book. You felt a nudge before looking to see Kim giving you all of your stuff from the table.

“Thanks.” you say.

Walking out, you feel the air as the dampness has somewhat dried up. Emily suggests you all grab a treat at a nearby bakery.

Sitting with the paid for treat, Kim says she has to use the bathroom. It was just you and Emily at the table.

“How have things been?” you ask her.

“Things with me have been great!” she says and then chews while she looks at you, “What about you? Besides your achievements.” she says.

“So far, so good.” you say.

“I know you don’t see eye to eye with Kim, but man do I feel bad for her right now.” she says quietly.

“I’m sure things will be okay.” you say, “She finally got the man of her dreams and Paul isn’t as bad as she made him out to be.”

“I don’t know.” Emily drags out. You give her a quizzical look.

“Jared and Kim have been fighting. A lot. Jared’s not that kind of person so it’s worrisome.”

“Do you know why?” you say, feeling yourself fall into the pits of gossip.

“I really don’t. That’s why I just hope things do turn out better, you know?” Emily says. You nod.

Kim later sits down, with peaks at her, you notice her face was a bit red.

“Everything alright?” Emily asks. Kim just nods. She’s been quiet.

You all close car doors as you all get out of Emily’s car.

Unlocking the door, Emily puts her keys up as you all take off the jackets that you had on.

Barely getting your shoes off, Paul comes to you and bends down to give you a kiss but makes a disagreeing noise as he retracts from you, “Ugh.”

“I took a shower.” you tell him, but deep down you knew why.

“And you need another one.” he says and the look on his face showed that he was serious. He kept an eye on you, as he tried to figure you out. You move further into the house.

“Want to see what I bought?” you ask. He doesn’t say anything but looks at what you’re holding.

“Where’s Jared.” Kim asks Paul.

“I don’t know. Go find him.” Paul speaks to her irritated but returns his attention to you.

Seeing Sam come out from the hallway and into the front of the home, you notice Emily gone and walk closer to him.

“Where did Emily go?” you ask.

“She’s in the shower. She smelled…Strange.” he says but takes a sniff as he moves a bit closer to where you were and wrinkles his nose, “No offense, but you smell worse.”

You look down and you hear the door close and find Jared looking tired as he comes in, “What’s that smell?”

“Y/N, come outside with me.” Paul says as he opens the door. Just from the force of the door opening, you knew it wasn’t for a good reason. Sighing, you ask in a small voice, “Why?”

He doesn’t even bother to answer your question as he looks at you with expectancy.

You slowly walk and grab your jacket.

Moving away from the front door, you both walk to the side front of Emily’s home.

“Did you lie to me?” Paul asks with narrowed eyes.

“About what?” you ask with a shrug.

“Anything. About where you were going or what?” he asks and as you open your mouth he says, “Don’t lie.”

“I told you I was going to Port Angeles and that’s where I was.” you tell him.

“There’s no way you were there with Emily and Kim the entire time. You’re fucking soaked in a leech’s scent.” he says and he’s trying his best to keep his soft trembles in control but he’s pacing a bit in order to do so.

“After I went to the record store, I did go to the library. Emily and Kim came and it was a total surprise. I didn’t even know they were going to be there.” you explain.

He gives you a long look, making you uncomfortable under such gaze. He knew you for some time to pick up on your behavior and body language. Something deep told him you were hiding something from him.

“Whose painting is in the cardboard box at home.” he asks with assertiveness.

“I-it’s.. Does it even matter?” Your heart was beating so hard it was pounding in your ears.

“Yes it does fucking matter.” he hissed and he then shakes his head, “What the hell is wrong with you? You’re lying to me now-”

“I didn’t lie!” you cry out.

“You’re telling me half truths! You think I don’t fucking know you?” He says. You do nothing but stare at the tree in front of you as you take in a shaky breath.

Jared comes out of the house next, walking right near where Paul was, close to the woods.

Not caring a person was outside with the both of you, he pressed on, “So whose is it?”

Jared awkwardly walked a bit, Sam was the one who sent Jared outside to tell Paul to come in.

When you don’t answer, Jared then moved beside Paul as he quickly says, “Sam wanted me to get you.”

Turning his face the side to face him, “Tell him to fucking wait.” Paul tells him coldly. He then turns back and look at you as your hands are stuffed in your pockets. You weren’t going to tell him in front of Jared.

Paul displays a sardonic expression as he then says, “It’s like that?”

He stomps past you but you call for him still, “Paul, just wait.” you say but he completely ignores you as he slapped the door closed behind himself.

You look down as you walk slowly to the porch steps and sit down.

“Why didn’t you just tell him?” Jared asks quietly in disbelief to you, he was one of the people who had faith in the relationship that you shared.

You shake your head as you stare ahead, “I don’t know.” you whisper to him. You genuinely didn’t.

Jared sits next to you on the steps but doesn’t say anything.

You both sat in silence until you hear the door close again but this time it was Kim.

You watch as she leaves from away from the house.

“You’re leaving?” he asks her.

She nods half heartedly, barely meeting his gaze. She then turns back around and walk in the direction of her home. Jared sucks in his teeth and you watch him as he looks to the sky, as of the sky would give him answers.

“I’m not the only one with problems after all.” you say quietly to him, trying to poke a joke at him.

Although he’s a bit glad that you’re trying to lighten up, he just couldn’t bring himself to do the same.

“It’s been like this for I don’t know how long.” Jared says.

“I don’t get it. She’s finally with you, what’s the problem?”

“She just keeps bringing up how…She feels trapped here. She did have plans to go to college but it’s not like I asked for this. She knew what it was when she accepted everything.”

“She blames you for not being able to leave?” you ask surprised.

“Pretty much. She even says shit that tear me down and…” he says and shakes his head, “I guess seeing people start their fall classes must’ve made her feel some type of way. I don’t know.”

You look down as you felt bad for such things being done to him. You then knit your eyebrows together, “She can just do online.”

“I told her that. At least when you two were friends you would've talked some sense into her. I don’t know what’s going on with that chick.” he says and a moment later, he opens the door back up. You decide to get up and follow him in the house as he held the door open.

You catch a bit of what Sam is saying cautiously to Paul, “-You sure?”

You see a seething Paul sitting at the table with his arms crossed, carrying a heavy look at you as you entered in.

He rises, but you touch his arm with both hands as he doesn’t slow down from walking out.

He was moving faster than you as you clambered down the steps trying to keep up with him.

“Paul, I will tell you. I don’t know why I didn’t.” you say.

He stops but turns around.

“I know who it’s for. I want you to say it.” he says.

You felt nervous again but you still open your mouth to say, “Bella.”

He sighs and turns back around before you call him again. He stops but doesn’t turn around.

“I couldn’t just not give her anything.” you say.

“Just like how you couldn’t just leave her ass alone.” he says but turns around before taking small steps to you, “You don’t even smell like a regular leech running around here. You smell like a fucking Cullen.”

You blink and he shakes his head in such disappointment and walks towards the woods.

Leaving you there with that to sit on your brain, he doesn’t even bother to strip, phasing and ripping out of his clothes. Before you could blink, the silver wolf disappears into the trees.

Not even going back inside, you walk home. You hand touch your forehead as you walk and look down.

You felt so angry with yourself. Then again, you didn’t go to Port Angeles to see Edward. He told you that he came to see you out. You then thought about how that wouldn’t have been a possibility had you not agreed to Bella’s invitation to go over her house. But then, she would’ve figured out where you lived and you felt that was even worse.

You scrubbed your entire body head to toe in the shower before even thinking about doing anything else.

With a fan by the window, you blew out your troubles with the help of cannabis. You even sat after, just staring out the window into the night sky.

Laying in bed alone, you stay up as the birds chirped, waking up to start their day. You move to the other side and pull the covers over your head.

You woke up late, but woke up with a slight jump. The covers come from off of your head as you search the room. You remember what happened and you check to see if Paul came home. He didn’t.

A knock surprised you as the tv glowed to you and rise up to open it. Jared had the things that you bought from yesterday that you had left over Emily’s in his hands.

Taking it from him, you thank him.

“Did you see him?” you ask Jared as he turns to walk away.

“Nope. I’m heading to Sam’s though.”

“Wait, I’m coming with you.”

Throwing something quick on, you both walk to Sam and Emily’s.

Emily was out running errands but that didn’t stop Jared from helping himself make a meaty sandwich.

Sam was lounging on the sofa, you sit down in the loveseat. He turns the volume of the television down as you enter. He looks to you and you look to him.

“Where’s Paul.”

“He won’t phase back.” he says as if he’s been waiting to tell you this.

You softly sigh as you drop your head a bit.

“Y/N, I have to side with him on this one. I don’t know what you were thinking. Hanging with the Cullens? We told you about them.” Sam says.

“That’s the thing..I didn’t go out of my way to hang with them.” you say and shake your head.

“What happened?” he asks trying to get a clear understanding.

“I told the truth. I did go to Port Angeles, but Edward was there. He caught my cd player from dropping and we talked. We were close and his scent must’ve rubbed off on me.” you tell him.

“Why did he talk to you?” he then asked.

“His sister wanted to throw Bella a birthday party and she extended an invitation to me. I didn’t agree to go. Edward came to pass the message along. He then told me…Things.”

“What things?” Sam asks with all focus. Jared by then joins the room with the sandwich almost gone from his hands.

“He told me not to say anything.” you whisper as you put your hands on your face.

“Did he threaten you?” Sam says getting a bit worked up.

“No, no. It wasn’t in a threatening manner.” you say as you wring your fingers, “He told me about his family’s diet, what really happened to Bella in Phoenix…” you say as you tried to think back.

Both Sam and Jared share a look.

Jared suggested to Sam that you should see Old Quil.

“Why?” you question.

“You know a lot. He keeps track of everything. That’s how we know what we know now.” Sam says.

They both walk you to the home that belonged to him. The cane he had in his hand was gripped as he held the door open and looked at all three of you.

“Who’s this.” he asks as he looks at you.

“Y/N. Paul’s imprint.”

“Ohhh okay. How are you doing dear?” he asks in an ancient voice and his stoic expression turns friendly.

“Good..I guess.” you say quietly and Old Quil takes his eyes away from you and nod to both Sam and Jared.

“Tell him everything. Don’t be afraid.” Jared coaches and encourages you.

You watch as they both leave, Old Quil tells you that you can have a seat. He offers something to drink but you decline. The wisdom he carried oozes from his aura as he sits in the recliner across the sofa that you sat in.

He keeps a pipe in his mouth as he softly rocked as you tell him blow by blow, starting from the moment you met Bella Swan. You add that Edward didn’t want you to say anything and to keep it in the library.

“Well I’ll be damned. Vampires with abilities and all.” he says.

Paul did come home, dirty and naked. He found you not home and decided to pay a visit to Sam’s after he took a shower. Old Quil yells a come in as you both sat at a kitchen table with a pen and pad. He wanted to get word for word, not missing any details.

Paul slowly walks in as he takes in the sight.

You still light up when you see that it’s Paul. You get up and cautiously walk towards him but all is forgotten when he pulls you close and tightly hold you to him with his arms.

Sitting in Paul’s lap, you watch as Old Quil flipped through the inked soaked pages, satisfied with how much he was able to document.

“I think you should go.” The older man decided to you as he pulls off his reading glasses and fold them.

“Don’t piss me off.” Paul says, after he got a recap of everything.

“Watch your mouth.” he says sternly then says, “I’m serious. He willingly told her all of this just by one conversation. Imagine how much she could come back with from an entire family.”

“She dies, then what? She gets hurt then what?” Paul says, not even believing this person that he was taught to respect since a child, would suggest such a thing.

“They drink animal’s blood. He can’t even read her mind so he won’t know she told us. It’s helpful to know rather than be surprised. Don’t you have questions? There’s holes that need to be filled and they’ve been around longer than we have. Could the gene be intertwined with puberty to have boys change so young?” Old Quil inquires as he strokes his chin a bit.

Moving you off of his lap, he gets up and paced the small home as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

“Did you agree?” Paul says to you.

“I’m just finding out this suggestion now.”

“Do you agree?” he then asks, titling his head down at you, holding his gaze in yours.

You shrug and say, “I don’t know.” He scoffs and look away.

“We can play this smart you know. Find out what other abilities they have.” Old Quil cuts in with his thin tenor voice.

“Who gives a fuck? As long as they stay off of our land, they can fuck off for all we care!” Paul hisses.

“Your mouth is so disgusting.” the older man says as he shakes his head. He takes a blow from his pipe, “Just think about it, Y/N.”

That’s what Edward said.

“No!” Paul roars, putting his foot down. He then moves over to you, taking both cheeks in his hands as he jerks you a bit to get you to look at him. You do.

“You’re not going. You hear me?” he makes it clear to you. You say nothing as you look at his almost desperate face. He then calls your name with force when you don’t say anything. Trying not to let your face crumble, you swallowed the lump in your throat. You wanted to do what you could do to help but his expression spoke volumes.

[vorfreudevortex]

masterlist

★ first, please read my rules & info.

★ all works so far are jjk, but you can find my aot levi works under drabbles!

smaus

✺ angst ✺ // ❁ cw ❁ // ✦ comfort/fluff ✦ // ☆ mdni ☆

first texts (✦) // second dates (✦) // finding out | one (✺❁) | finding out | two (✺✦) | finding out | aftermath (❁✦) // date night (❁✦) // random texts (✦) // can we wait? (☆✦) // meanies (❁✦) // make me pretty (✦) // amazing darling! (❁✦) // moolah (✦) // let's eat (✦) // need you (☆✦) // scars (❁✦) // deep questions (✦) // arguments (✺❁) | apologies (✦) // ouch (✺❁✦) // my pp hard (☆✦) // anxiety (❁✦)

oneshots & drabbles

✺ angst ✺ // ❁ cw ❁ // ✦ comfort/fluff ✦ // ☆ mdni ☆

nanami runs meetings like the navy (✦) // toji learns new habits (✦) // megumi's bites cut deep (✺❁) // yuta isn't sure anymore (✺❁) // christmas gift wrapping (✦)

attack on titan

levi i wish things could be different (✺❁) // erwin's visit (✦) // the seamster (✦) // i'll walk you back (✦) // for sale (✺❁) // scout (✦) // green with envy (✺✦) // lavender worries (✺❁✦)

erwin erwin loves denying you... (☆❁)

fics & series

✺ angst ✺ // ❁ cw ❁ // ✦ comfort/fluff ✦ // ☆ mdni ☆

fake it 'til we make it // fic, series, editorial assistant!ino x copy editor!fem!reader (✺❁✦)

you and ino have been coworkers at jj&k publishing inc. for months now, with a civil but pleasant work-only relationship. that is, until one of the senior editors somehow "reveals" that you two have been secretly dating to everyone at the office. coincidentally, ino needs information for an important article, and you need a wedding date. turns out, fake dating is not for the weak... especially when your toxic ex-boyfriend is constantly meddling with your head.

redline // fic, series, street racer!ino takuma x f!reader (✺❁✦☆)

life can only get better when you're sent off to japan to spend another summer with your older brother suguru and his best friend satoru. determined to become one of the best street racers in tokyo just like them, you spend every minute you can in a car. that is, until you catch the eye of takuma ino, the leader of the shadows and your brother’s rival. one glance at how ino looks at you leaves suguru strictly banning you from seeing him for your own good. can you keep a secret from your beloved brother while you fight the scandal of being a female racer with him? or will everything skid out of your control before you have to return home? 

a portrait of us // smau, series, nanami x artist!fem!reader (✺❁✦☆)

it's been 10 years since you ran away from the painful world of jujutsu sorcery to return home. during this time you've begun to make quite a name for yourself as an artist, with the height of your career so far being a lucrative and life-changing opportunity to have your art shown at the museum of contemporary art in tokyo. an unexpected text from an old friend starts rippling through other aspects of your life to make you wonder if you should've ever stopped thinking about what could've been. "you've always been my muse. for every line and stroke i've ever painted. our love is in every canvas i've ever touched."

© vorfreudevortex // all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, or repost my work.

[azzifudd]

we just sort of get each other

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

summary: insp by an article an anon sent me that said paige was with azzi the whole day before her senior prom

rated: teen

1.3k words

disclaimer: many made up events obviously

Paige sits on the couch, leg propped up on a pillow, hands fidgeting with her phone. She opens Tiktok for a moment, but closes it after a few quick swipes, jiggling her healthy leg as she waits for Azzi to emerge from her bedroom.

She had been in there about an hour earlier, watching as the makeup artist worked on Azzi’s face. In her opinion, Azzi didn’t even need all that, but she had been clearly enjoying the full day of pampering. 

But when the makeup artist had complained for the third time that Azzi would not stop laughing at Paige’s antics, Katie had sent Paige out and shut the door behind her. 

Jose and Jon are playing Mario Kart, pushing at each other as their characters race around the track. 

“You wanna play, Paige?” Jose holds out one of the spare controllers to her.

“Nah, man, I’m good.” She stands up, grabbing her crutches and limping into the kitchen to grab a drink. She’s walking back into the living room when Azzi’s door finally opens. 

Paige turns eagerly at the sound of heels on the wooden floor and drops her bottle of Gatorade at the sight that greets her. 

The bottle thunks heavily against the floor. 

Azzi smiles shyly at her, one dimple peeking out. 

“How do I look?” 

Azzi looks…

Paige has no words. Paige has a million words. She can’t seem to pick her jaw up from where it has hit the floor. 

Paige is nearly breathless as she runs her eyes up and down Azzi’s body. 

She’s wearing a floor length dress, a silver shimmery thing with pink and blue tones throughout it that bares the skin of her chest and arms. A slit runs up one leg, exposing what appears to be miles of tan skin and toned muscle. 

Paige clears her throat, hoping she isn’t blushing as hard as it seems as her cheeks heat up. 

“You look..” She hesitates, unsure if anything she says can even measure up to the emotions that swell in her chest as she looks at Azzi. 

She’s saved from speaking as Azzi’s parents round the corner. Tim has his phone in outstretched hand as he approaches.

“Baby, you look amazing!” He snaps a few photos as Azzi poses. 

Paige stands back and watches as Azzi’s parents direct her in an impromptu photoshoot. Soon her little brothers are roped in to take photos with her, and before she knows it, Tim is gesturing for Paige to stand beside Azzi. 

“Aw, no I don’t want my crummy outfit to make her look bad.” She’s in a wrinkled AZ35 t-shirt and a pair of Nike pants, boot heavy around her ankle. At least she brushed her hair earlier instead of just throwing it into a messy ponytail. 

“Paige, please?” Azzi holds out a hand. 

Paige is at her left side before she even realizes it, hand wrapping around her waist as Azzi leans into her. 

Soon, Azzi has to leave to go take photos with her date James at the National Mall. The family all load into the car, but Paige stays behind because it’s a little too much walking for her ankle. 

But before Azzi can head out, Paige grabs her hand, holding her back until they’re alone in the house. Paige leans her crutches against the wall, and grasps Azzi by the hips, pulling her until their foreheads touch. 

“I wish I was the one taking you.” Paige says, her voice a whisper against Azzi’s lips. For a moment, Paige wishes things were different, that she was just a normal girl who got to take the girl she liked to prom. 

But if she was just a normal girl, she never would have met Azzi, and that’s not a world that Paige can bear to imagine.

“You look beautiful.” 

Azzi’s responding kiss feels like a ‘thank you’ and an ‘I’m sorry' all at once. They are interrupted by a loud honk from outside and Jon’s voice yelling for Azzi to hurry up. Paige’s lips are sticky with gloss. 

“Have the best night,” Paige says, and then Azzi’s out the door. 

***

Azzi has a good night. She does. She spends the night dancing and talking with friends and just having a normal high school experience, something that has become more and more rare as her high school career has developed. The pandemic had ruined so much of what she had hoped would be a perfect senior year, so she is grateful that prom at least has gone off without a hitch.

But as the night wears on, she can’t help but think of what was missing. James is handsome and charming; a dream prom date for so many girls. But he isn’t who Azzi wants. She wants the annoying, sweet, beautiful girl who is waiting for her at home. 

Surprisingly, none of her friends question her when she tells them she will be heading straight home after the dance, rather than hitting up the after party that nearly everyone else is going to. 

When she gets home, she finds her family finishing up a movie in the living room. Strangely, Paige is nowhere to be found. 

“Did you have a good night, honey?” 

“Yeah, it was a lot of fun.” She doesn’t elaborate. “Where’s Paige? Did she go back to her dad’s?” 

Her mom looks unsurprised at her question, smiling as she tilts her head toward their basement door. “She’s downstairs, waiting for you. Don’t change out of your dress yet.”

Azzi is a bit confused, but she heads downstairs anyway. She takes her time going down the stairs in her heels, watching her feet, and as she hits the last step, she realizes there is soft music playing. She looks up and finds the room lit only by what seems like dozens of candles interspersed throughout the room.

All the furniture has been pushed to the edges of the room, and standing at the center of the room is Paige. She is wearing a button up that looks just a bit too tight around her shoulders and a pair of black pants. A baby blue tie is loose around her neck, and Azzi knows when she gets close enough that she’ll be able to see how it brings out the color in Paige’s eyes. 

“I know it’s not the same as if we’d gotten to go together, but I got us these. 

When she gets within arms reach, Azzi notices that Paige is holding a plastic box. She pops it open to reveal a beautiful corsage, pink and vibrant with a matching boutonniere. 

Azzi can’t stop herself from reaching out to hold Paige’s face in her hands and kissing her. Paige smiles against her lips.

“You like it?” She asks, laughing when Azzi nods and kisses her again.

With gentle hands, Paige slides the flower onto Azzi’s wrist and she stands still as Azzi returns the favor, pinning hers to her chest with shaky fingers. 

“Can I have this dance?” Paige loops her arms around Azzi’s waist, pulling her even closer.

“Will your ankle be okay?” Azzi asks, bringing her arms up around Paige’s shoulders. 

“Yeah,” Paige shrugs. “I asked during PT this morning, and they said swaying was okay.” 

“Then let’s sway.” Azzi giggles, pressing their foreheads together as they move gently to the music. 

“Did you have fun tonight?” 

“Mmhm.” Azzi nods. “I missed you though. I always miss you.” 

“Just a few more months and we’ll be together all the time.” 

“You won’t get tired of me?” Azzi scratches at the back of Paige’s neck, smiling as Paige’s eyes flutter and she leans into the touch. 

“Never.” Paige makes sure to look Azzi right in the eyes, her own piercing and honest. 

Azzi twists a hand into Paige’s tie, pulls her in, and kisses her and kisses her. 

[lilithprincessofdarkness]

⛧On a Lonely Lilim Embracing her Creative Spiritual Side♡⛧

By Leala Daigle

⛧First and foremost, I am a creative writer and aspiring author and artist. I don't sell anything on this account, nor do I promote anything. I share my creative work for free to get in touch with like-minded adults like me. I cannot be anyone's consultant and am not a professional anything. All that I can guarantee is that I am punk rock.⛧

Welcome to my blog ^__^ I am a Lilim (Lilit-Witch) and a Romantic LaVeyan Satanist, or simply a Lilit Satanist or Lilim

I am here to speak of Lilithian Magick

Lilithian Magick can help guide one towards one's personal magick and self-love, as Lilith authentically is the love goddess Venus.

Lilith is an embodiment of the Morningstar and spirit of spiritual freedom. SHE DOES NOT WANT YOU TO WORSHIP HER. SHE WANTS YOU TO WORSHIP YOURSELF!

𓃵

⛧Disclaimer: If you do not ask me for permission to publish my work on your website, do not use my proper name Leala Daigle as the author, or if you do not correctly source me when using my ideals/writing. I will be personally reporting your website to your domain and placing it in a copyright infringement report. If you go as far as publishing my work without sourcing me and crediting me as the author, be it literature you publish or a college essay, I will be suing you with a copyright attorney. If you use my ideals in a college essay without crediting my work or ideals, I will not only sue you, but you will be reported for plagiarism.

Colleges and universities take plagiarism very seriously. You could be placed on academic probation or have even more severe consequences. Don't discredit me as a writer just because you find my material on Tumblr. I will catch you eventually. Is it worth being arrested, having academic consequences, or having your website shut down for plagiarism? Doesn't hurt me any. I take it as a compliment and that you absolutely suck at writing. You are only hurting yourself in the end.

If you would like to know how to properly source me, please click on my first following article entitled 'Lilith is Not Just a Goddess of Sex.' At the footer of this post, you will see a link to my post 'How to Properly Source Me.'

⛧Listen, I do not mind if you want to message me and tell me you like my writing and you would like to post it on your website.

⛧But please make me aware of it before you go to take my literature and post it. If I give you permission, Property source me as the author. My name is Leala Daigle.

⛧And I don't mind you using my ideas or literature as well in your creative writing or religious essays if you give me credit for my literature or ideal properly, which source me as the author Leala Daigle.

⛧If you disrespect me as an artist and the original creator of all the material listed here, I have all right to take legal action against you. My older material listed here has been sent to the American Copyright department, and all my newer blogs are gathered and sent to the American Copyright department every month, as warning it would be stupid to steal from me. I have the links to ALL my blogs. I use AI and search up sentences in my blogs to see if anyone plagiarized me. I keep note and have the number to a copyright attorney.

As a humbling gesture, I don't have a grandiose view of myself or my writing. I know there are much more talented writers than myself. Other people see my ideas and writing highly and steal it. This is why I have to protect myself.

⛧My name is Leala Daigle. I am Lailith Hazot Venus, and all literature listed here on my blog:

Lilithprincessofdarkness.blog,

I Leala Daigle have the legal copyright of.

Copyright © 2025 Leala Daigle. All rights reserved.

I am not looking to promote witchcraft, Lilim, or Satanism. ❤️

^_^

Copyright © 2025 Leala Daigle. All rights reserved.

Hello, my name is Lailith Venus, I am a witch, and I want you to know. . .Witchcraft is a serious practice. . .

☆If you are new to my blog, please read this! My blog is 21+ only due to sexual themes (the concept of sex magick). . .

On Sex Magick:

Out of respect to my beautiful Goddess Lilith and the concept of sex magick in a nutshell, please read this article:

Sex magick is a serious spiritual practice that needs to be done with respect between two consensual adults or alone. It is not a fetish. It is meant to be a practice that brings you closer to the spirit. It has been called vampirism and succubaism throughout the years. But it is just a darker form of green earth magick.

Disclaimer:

I cannot be anyone's consultant. I am not a professional anything. I came to Tumblr to find individuals with like-minded spiritual ideas because I felt isolated in my predominantly Christian city.

My Views:

☆I am a nonviolent Satanist, I do not permit hatred towards Christians, Jews, or Muslims only respect for different religions. I condemn Antisemitism, Islamophobia, and Neo-Nazism. I condemn racism, abuse and all forms of bigotry. ☆

I have nothing against Christians. I don't believe what I do because I hate Christians. The Pagan Gods have been blamed for evil for a long time. Mars slowly became Azazyl when the fight for the ideology of only one God emerged over time. All my Gods were thrown into Hell and made into demons. Blamed for all of humanities' downfalls.

A Theistic Satanist isn't evil; a Theistic Satanist is a Pagan. I have compassion for Christians because they only fear what they do not understand.

Facts from Anton LaVey's(the creator of Satanism’s) Satanic Bible:

Abuse is against the Satanic Bible because it takes away the free will of another, Satanic Sacrifices, selling your soul, it's all lies the Catholics make up about us, while Priests have gotten away with horrible crimes. Yes, there are cases of horrible violent so-called Satanists like Richard Ramirez, but there have been a thousand times more violence within the Christian Church. Never once has the world gone to war in Samael's name, oh no! Samael has been a kindhearted gentleman and loving and this Tumblr is dedicated to him and his Queen of Hell, Princess of Darkness: Lilith.

It's time that the Pagan Gods stop getting blamed for mankind's bad deeds.

DEMONIC DISCLAIMER: Your contact with either Lilith or Samael cannot replace actual psychiatric advice and therapy. However, these deities are meant to be combined with therapy.

Short Bio on myself Lailith Venus:

Please understand that I understand people take comfort through religion, and I am a Lilit Witch. This is why I will provide certain sigils and prayers for free because all religions need certain prayers, symbols, and meditation for guidance. All this lies below in my index.

My Spiritual Belief Lilim (Lilit-Witches): or those who exonerate the Goddess Lilith is not a new belief. My belief has been around for hundreds of years. Throughout all these years, many have not admitted to being Lilim out of fear of religious persecution. I still do not know if Lilim, who are commonly called daughters and sons of Samael and Lilith, is a religion or spiritual belief because I do not study religion. I'll call it a spiritual belief based on gnosis, alchemy, and compleat magick. I don't know if per se you can be a Christian and Lilim or another religion and Lilim. Like you can be a Luciferian Christian. I know if Christianity had a goddess, she would be Lilith. Lilim were made into vampires by folklore and Hollywood, but we are just simple peaceful people who love Lilith. If you would like to know more about my views of Lilith, please read my posts 'Lilith the Midnight Venus', and 'Rehash on Lilith the Midnight Venus: Non-Violence Policy: located in my index below.

I am not a professional anything I wrote a book of shadows since I was 12 (2002). I abandoned it at 18 and recently picked it up again at 34. I realized I had very peaceful Satanic views as a teenager. I considered myself as a Neo-Pagan witch as a LaVeyan Satanist with a focus on Lilith as well. I called myself a Lilit-Witch, Lilit-Satanist. A more compassionate version of a Satanic Witch, I guess, with more positive undertones. A true focus on Satan and Lilith who can be found together in the Kabbalah (The Book of Enoch, The Necronomicon, there's endless books I want but can't afford The Kabbalah I have yet to learn about but want to. Once I abandoned my Book of Shadows, I also abandoned the need for these books back in 2008. I was manipulated into thinking my Satanic views were evil when they weren't they were just different.)

I do not mind at all that you use my ideals or take comfort in my ideals. I understand there are not many Lilit Witches out there to share information with, but please understand that most witches charge for even a slight interaction with them. I don't believe in charging people. I believe the spirit, especially the spirit of Lilith, should be free. This is why I have placed some of my gnosis in literature here for free in the hopes it gives someone comfort.

All I ask of you is if you use any of my ideals, please reference me, because you wouldn't know about any of my ideals without my blog and it's proven by the blog. If you steal my ideas without referencing me, you are going to work for me baby! Cha-ching 💰

Thank you for understanding,

-Lailith Hazot Venus (Leala Daigle)

ART BY SOMIODELIC WORKSHOP CHECK THEM OUT ON FACEBOOK!

On Communication with Satan:

By Lailith Hazot Venus (Leala Daigle)

Witchcraft is a serious practice that needs to be respected. Dealing with any of the spirits living, dead, demonic, angelic, etc., cannot be taken lightly. You are dealing with energies that can feel pain and emotion like yourself, demanding that a deity help you through a witch without showing it any appreciation is very disrespectful. The spirit is a playground of love, not a playground of tyranny, Satan himself wants everyone to be free. The relationship you form with your own spirit and the spirits of others are a result of the work and energies you put into these spirits.

Please understand that most LaVeyan Satanists are not theistic and do not practice or believe in witchcraft. Most Satanists are not witches and do not believe in magick, and most Satanists become Satanists to escape religion and scientifically unproven beliefs, Satan is an ideal to most Satanists that represents freedom from suppressive authority especially religious authority. Don't take me as an example of a good Satanist.

I am both a witch and a theistic Satanist who believes in both the LaVeyan idea of Satan and a spiritual Satan. My belief in Satan comes from a combination of Romantic Paganism and Judaistic beliefs. My concept of Satan may be completely different than someone else's concept of Satan. To me, he is the Jewish Archangel Sammael, who in Jewish Folklore is also the Roman God Mars, while Lucifer was the first man Adam to me personally.

I am not a priestess, and I understand people love Satan, and I may explain ways in which one could create their own relationship with the theistic Satan, but it's up to oneself to personally engage with Satan and find the correct rituals to do so. I very much want Satan to reach out to you, and I want Satan to feel loved by people. He deserves it and loves it when you communicate with him. Nevertheless, I cannot do this for you, I can tell you how I personally connect with him, yet your journey with him may be completely different.

I will not speak to Satan for you. If you would like to talk to him, he's like anyone else you need to open your mind and heart for him to enter it ❤️

ALL HAIL LILITH GODDESS OF SEX!

QUEEN OF DEMONS AND WITCHES!

BRINGER OF LUCIFERIAN LIGHT AND FREEDOM!

LILITHIAN LIGHT AND LOVE ❤️

Follow me @ tumblr.com/lilithprincessofdarkness

~Lailith Hazot Venus (Leala)

Sigil: 'The Sigil of Baphomet associated with the Church of Satan' I added the Mars and Venus signs, respectfully attributing them to Lilith and Satan.

⛧Lailith Hazot Venus Index:⛧

LILITH THE MIDNIGHT VENUS: an explanation of my gnosis on Lilith's Goddess head.

REHASH ON LILITH THE MIDNIGHT VENUS non-violence policy

CIRCLE WITH THE KINGS OF HELL AND DIRECTIONS

LAILITH HAZOT VENUS'S LEFT-HAND LIBRARY

LILITH PRAYER

ON SUCCUBAE AND LILIT WITCHES

ON LILITH WORK

On Samael and God:

Please understand I'm not trying to convert anyone into what I believe, I am just trying to open the eyes of the world to the spirit ☆

Please no more asks to donate to your charities. I have been scammed, and I have a list of legit Palestinians needing aid that I will be donating to.

Do not send messages in my ask box to donate to your charity, I will ignore it and assume you are a scammer.

Copyright © 2025 Leala Daigle. All rights reserved.

𓃵

[heyftinally]

Y'all are going to like this one.

SWIFTIES DON'T TOUCH THIS POST WITH A TEN FOOT POLE, I SWEAR TO FUCKING HELL-

So my friend sent me this article, and I'm going to tell you why I think it's complete bullshit.

1) wishing us a happy Pride month is the BARE MINIMUM. As someone with her presence in the media and social influence, she could - and should - be doing SO much more than just wishing us a happy pride four days in.

2) "the singer has been an advocate for the LGBTQ+ community" not a good one. She seems to only remember us when it's convenient or benefits her in some way. Case in point:

2018 - "When it comes to feelings and when it comes to love and searching for someone to spend your whole life with. It's all just really really delicate. You know?" Taylor then performed her song "Delicate."

2023 - It’s painful for everyone, every ally, every loved one, every person in these communities.

In the first example, the intentional song reference comes off as extremely tacky. This is people's LIVES you're talking about. People are MURDERED for who they are and who they love (or don't love). This isn't an appropriate time to pull out the "oh-so-quirky" act and be cutesy.

In the second, the fact that she can't even center queer people in their own experience is so, SO telling. I promise, however painful it is for allies, it's 1000x worse for us to LIVE it. Allies don't have to wonder "am I going to get hate crimed wearing this?" before they leave the house - we frequently do. To not acknowledge that shows me that everything she says is performative at best.

3) I wouldn't call what she does "advocacy". She mentions us every now and then when it's convenient for her, profits off of us when we fit her marketing plan, and I've yet to find where she actually apologized for the homophobia in the original version of Picture to Burn. Also, she's real good friends with Travis Kelce's dad, who is a raging transphobe (and I bet his kids are, too). You don't get to call yourself an ally if you willingly allow the people around you to be violent bigots.

4) "always" is a strong word for someone who seems to show her support situationally at best. The full quote was "The way for that to happen is for us to continue to keep pushing governments to put protections in place for members of the LGBTQ community. And I promise to always advocate for that." Yet she doesn't do that.

5) what she speaks out, I've noticed that it's nearly always in the states that primarily agree with her. We don't see a whole lot of her "inspiring ally" speeches in places like Texas or Florida. But I've seen plenty of them come out of already notoriously queer-friendly places. If you aren't willing to face the heat of the difficult places along with the comfort of the easy ones, you don't get to call yourself an ally. Allyship is not easy. Anyone remember when Lady Gaga advocated for us in Russia, under threat of arrest, and her response was "arrest me, Russia! I don't give a fuck!"? Yeah, I've never seen even half that level of true commitment from Taylor.

6) STOP. MAKING. STRAIGHT GIRL SONGS. "GAY ANTHEMS"!!!! FFS it's such a slap in the fucking face of REAL, ACTUALLY QUEER ARTISTS that y'all keep calling these piss pathetic straight girl over produced crap songs "anthems". Fucking stop it. If they aren't queer, they don't qualify to be a queer anthem or icon. Start supporting ACTUAL queer artists with ⅛ this energy, for the love of FUCK. This bullshit pisses me off. Do you need a list of queer artists? I'll make you one by hand if you promise to stop trying to label Raylor Swift's straight girl shit songs as "gay anthems".

7) rainbows and gender subversion are not exclusively nor inherently queer. If that's our bar for "gay anthems", the bar is so low Lucifer himself needs a damn Webb Telescope to just barely see it from hell.

[hayleythesugarbowl]

I crave more Ian Hecox!! Maybe one of him and reader being the “mom and dad” of Smosh. Like the cast being silly and Ian joining dad style while reader is laughing and keeping Angela from getting hurt or something. Just something 150% fluff! Thank you 💕💕

Historical Figure’s Mario Kart || Ian Hecox x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist  ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: imagine dating ian and being the mom + dad of smosh as you all hang out

word count: 1k

warnings: none at all, this has no plot it’s just vibes

a/n: this is super short but I loved this idea—i adore writing abt the smosh characters just hanging out. this is just 1,037 words of smosh cast being stupid (affectionate). fem!reader. enjoy! 🎀

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    “Do I—in theory—look like Leonardo DaVinci?”

     Amanda petted the fake beard she wore on her chin. Her, Angela, Chanse, Courtney, and Spencer all sat on a couch, staring at the TV screen in front of them, controllers in hand. 

     You had just walked into the room, followed by your boyfriend, Ian, who was sizing up Amanda’s costume. 

     “Close,” Ian said, “but you’re missing the  19-24 year old girl.”

     Ian walked towards a chair near the couch the rest of the cast sat on. He sat down and you joined him, taking your spot on his lap, watching the scene in front of you.

     “DiCaprio wishes he had a beard like this,” Amanda winked, twirling the hair around her finger 

     “Look, mom and dad are here!” Spencer joked, looking up from the game at you and Ian. 

     You rolled your eyes at him, turning to Ian and kissing him dramatically.

     “Ew, mom and dad are kissing!” Angela added. “I don’t want to see that”

     You weren’t that much older than any of the Smosh cast. But since you were dating Ian, one of the dads of Smosh, you supposed mom kind of came with the title. 

     That, and, according to them, you acted like their mother. 

     “What’re you guys playing?” You asked them as Ian flipped off Angela. She stuck her tongue out back at him. 

     “An epic game of Mario Kart,” Courtney informed you. “If you get hit by a turtle shell, you have to add a piece to your historical-themed costume. Which is why Amanda—”

     “—is a 15th century renaissance artist,” Ian nodded. “Who, by the way, died in the arms of King Francis. Little fruity if you ask me.”

     “He walked so we could run,” Chanse said, never taking his eyes off the screen. 

     “Or, in your case, slip on all of the banana peels in sight,” Spencer teased.

     “Oh it is so on, Elvis.” 

     You took in Spencer’s black wig and white jumpsuit. 

     You then looked around at the others. Courtney wore what could only have been a Bob Ross wig and Chase had on a Marilyn Monroe dress, red lipstick and all. And Angela…

     “Who are you supposed to be anyway?” You asked Angela. 

      “I’m Dr. Mike,” she gestured to her scrubs as if it was obvious. 

     “You heard historical and thought Dr. Mike?” Ian asked.

     “You’re speaking to Miss Another Plane Has Hit the Food Pyramid, remember?” Chanse said. 

     “It was an honest mistake anyone could make!” Angela shouted. “And what do you know, you’re dead.”

     “We don’t know that!” Chanse yelled, focused in on the race. “She could still be out there.”

     “Tell me about it,” Spencer added. “You think they spelled Elvis’s middle name wrong on his tombstone on accident? It’s all part of the conspiracy.”

     “A conversation about conspiracy theories and you didn’t start it?” You turned to Ian. “What has this world come to?” 

     “Got him,” Courtney said, turning her controller sharply. 

     “Oh he sent me the article,” Spencer informed you. “And gave me the brochure for the Elvis Sightings club.”

     “We talked about this,” you turned to Ian. “No spreading your propaganda.” 

     “Challenge: impossible,” Angela laughed, spinning the scissors she held around on one finger. 

     “What are the scissors for?” You pointed to what Angela was holding in the hand that didn’t have her remote. 

     “The supply of surgical tools here is lower than you might think,” she said sarcastically. “This is as good as it gets.”

     “Well, from the looks of all of your detailed costumes—and Angela’s—you all suck.” Ian said. “Let me show you how it’s done.”     

     He stood up, stretching his back. You got up with him and walked behind the couch so you could see the screen. 

     “Don’t break anything, grandpa,” Spencer joked. 

     “Ian, do you even know how to play this game?” Courtney asked. “It was made after 1975.”

     “Roasted,” Amanda said, before leaning back to whisper to you, “I’m so lost—do I want to kill those things or use them?”

     “Neither, that’s the final lap turtle,” you told her. 

     Everyone looked at you. “What? I’m around you yahoos 24/7–you’re bound to pick up a thing or two here and there.”

     “Here Ian, try and win me one,” Amanda handed Ian her controller, letting him race for  her. “I keep trying to collect all of the sparkly red boxes, but I don’t think it’s working for me.”

     “Amanda, for the last time—” Chanse began, before cutting off. “You know what, never mind.”

     Ian took it from Amanda as the race began, already driving his car off the edge of a a cliff.

     You giggled. 

     “I’m going to get some paint for my costume,” Amanda said, sighing as she accepted her defeat. “Angela, I hope you already ate.”

     “Very funny, Angela eats paint, screw you,” Angela said. 

     You stood back as you watched Ian and the rest of your friends play. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself at the fun they were having, shouting and laughing and cheering—a cool dad playing a video game with all of his kids. 

     Ian looked over at you. “What?”

     “Nothing,” you grinned, looking at your watch. “But don’t you guys have a shoot in, like, 10 minutes?”

     “Buzzkill,” Spencer mumbled.

     “Aren’t you the director of this channel?” You asked Spencer. 

     He ignored you. 

     “Yeah,” Ian pouted, “One more game?” 

     “Don’t encourage them,” you joked, grabbing the controller out of Ian’s hand and pulling him towards you, planting a kiss on his forehead. 

     “Geez, who died and made her president of the company,” Angela looked to the rest of the cast, pointing the scissors at you. “When did she start getting to boss us around?”

     “When I started dating the president of the company, doctor” you shot back, grabbing the scissors out of Angela’s hand before she could do any damage with them. 

     Ian laughed, grabbing your other hand—the one that wasn’t occupied with Angela’s scissors, and linking his fingers with yours. 

     Amanda walked back in the room then.

     “I couldn’t find any paint, but I found a pilot’s hat—Angela, you wanna take this one?”

     “For the last time, 2001 and 2011 look really similar on paper!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ hope you enjoyed this little imagine. have a lovely day filled with thoughts abt ian 🤭

[myung-jaes]

hi! i just wanted to come on here again to encourage everyone to please please participate in the boycott against sm! this doesn’t just help in getting justice for seunghan, but also helps in addressing and advocating the fan parasocial relationships & bullying/mistreatment issues in the industry! please unfollow all official accounts on all platforms and avoid streaming any official content and music— here is a link of someone who made mp3 files of riize music for the boycott & for spotify users, there are podcasts with the boycotted music so that we won’t give any streams to sm! also please sign this petition if you haven’t already, and encourage other people to participate in the boycott as well!

as much as it may seem like sm had no intentions of bringing him back w the szn greetings announcement & removing him from under the riize list on their website, there is so so much progress being made with this boycott!:

- our efforts have reached many kpop stores internationally, all of which have decided to halt restocking riize merch! this also include subk which is huge considering that they have collaborated with sm artists before!

- constant trends between the hashtags on twt

- we’ve gotten the support of plenty of non-briize kpop fandoms & non-kpop fandoms (arianators, harries, swifties, beliebers, etc.)

- plenty of large influencers and creators on youtube and tiktok speaking on the situation! there is also the spread in recognition of the situation overall across social media with many videos (such as evidence of the bullying) going viral!

- we’ve reached the recognition of others in the industry, such as a tweet that was retweeted by leeteuk (an artist under sm) & a tweet by jae (former day6 member) talking about the situation!

- i believe pineapple manager also liked an ot7 post on insta?? but pls correct me if i’m wrong!

- drop of riize twt followers from 809k to 730k & riize insta from 4.2m to 3.9m

- the petition has over 260k signatures

- we’ve gotten many big and well-known news sources writing articles on the boycott and the bullying situation with seunghan as well as regarding sm and their treatment of their artists

- tons of korean news sources have released articles on the situation as well as the boycott and updates on it!

- the naver article that covered seunghan’s departure was taken down!

- recent events of ot7 k-briize joining the effort (lots of have tweeted about the hope they have for this!) and organizing a protest outside of sm on friday, the 18th!

- i believe there have also been accounts of people on twt seeing some knetz/ot6s attempting to delete evidence and/or admitting to what they did which shows that our efforts are reaching them! (PLEASE correct me if this is misinformation bc my sources are a few accts on twt!)

please let me know if i am missing any other points of progress and i will add it!

if you would like to continue to make a change beyond unfollowing official accounts:

- if you have twitter (x), please please continue to share the ongoing hashtags we have for seunghan, it is important that we don’t let them drop!

- ALSO!! do not engage with any official accounts regardless of what they post, it will defeat the purpose of the boycott!

- regarding ot6 comments, especially on wv, do NOT interact with them, ignore them! ignoring will help prevent any traction towards their comments, and help increase our efforts!

- helping with funding for ongoing fan projects! one that i’ve seen recently is the sunflowers for seunghan project! this tweet has all the info on it if you’re interested!

— MAJOR UPDATE on the flower project here pls click the link and help in any way!

- some other projects that i’ve heard of but will update more on are the airships (this link includes funding for day 2 of the flowers as well!) & there are ongoing trucks being sent that you can help support!

- there is also the protest happening on the 18th, so if you are or will be in korea during that time, please participate!

- emailing other big accounts that you may know, news sources, or those who write articles on this, or stores that still supply riize merch! (templates & links below):

— template for emailing stores who supply merch!

— template for emailing news sources!

— template for emailing journalists!

— template for other contacts within the media!

— there is also the kwangya project, here is the template!

— template for emailing sm ent!

- there are also tons of updates on the boycott on this account as well as their linktree which has so much info on what you can do for the boycott, such as plenty of email templates as i mentioned above, which i suggest everyone to look at!

again please let me know if there is anything i’m missing on any ongoing projects or updates!

[twopoppies]

What does it mean when people say that Louis is ‘black listed’? Sorry I don’t know much about the music industry…

Hi darling. Being blacklisted isn’t a term specific to the music industry.

It’s just pretty suspicious that even with all the contacts Louis has made over the years, with how many people seem to be on his side, personally, and even with how strong his built-in fan base is, his music still never makes it on to the radio.

We’ve seen evidence of his music being pulled off the radio as soon as it started to climb the charts (Back to You). And evidence that his singles aren’t even sent to radio stations to play (pretty sure that one was Miss You). And even the fact that a show like Late, Late which was run by people he was close to, didn’t have him on to promote Walls was super suspicious.

All of that happened when he was still tied to Syco/Sony and it seemed pretty obvious there was a personal vendetta of sorts coming from Simon (and possibly Sony) most likely because Louis was the fly in the ointment when it came to being able to manipulate both 1D and Harry, specifically.

A label can put pressure on outlets about running articles/playing music/featuring certain artists by using the threat of not allowing those outlets access to other artists if the don’t do as the label wishes. It’s underhanded and I don’t know that it’s even a threat that’s spoken out loud so much as implied, but it happens.

But blacklisting isn’t the only reason Louis isn’t on the radio, on the cover of Rolling Stone etc. Labels have a fixed amount of money they want to spend on promotion across all of their artists. They make a determination about who they think is going to have the biggest return. There has to be more than just a personal vendetta against him that had Sony putting him lower down on their list than fans think he deserved. TV shows, magazines etc. have the same thought process—what’s going to give us the biggest return?

And now that Louis isn’t signed to a label, and Syco is gone and Simon is barely even in the music industry, how much does what they wanted even affect Louis’ career? That’s hard to say. But while promoting FITF, Louis did allude to still not being played on the radio. And since getting placed on streaming playlists costs money and since he no longer has a label’s money to do that with, does that holds him back? How much of it is affected by all the years of sabotage Simon/Sony wreaked on his confidence, reputation, and career?

I do think there’s a level of blacklisting, but I think there’s more to it. There are plenty of artists who are never played on the radio who still grow their audiences and win awards and continue to put out music and tour successfully. Too many fans use the idea of him being blacklisted as the sole reason he’s not a household name instead of considering the idea that there are likely quite a few reasons (some of which have to do with the way he’s marketed and the genre he’s in).

Anyway… that’s a really long answer to your simple question and it’s still a pretty open ended answer. Sorry about that.

[soon-palestine]

Can you recognize these faces? All these leaders made profound sacrifices for their people, and the artist who created this powerful drawing must be considered one of them. Kevin “Rashid” Johnson, who is extensively quoted in this shocking article, is one of them, one of the men being tortured 24/7 at Red Onion State Prison. Next to Mumia Abu Jamal, Rashid is the most read and respected prisoner in the U.S. Red Onion is a super-maximum security prison designed and built to be torturous in every way, just like Pelican Bay State Prison in California, where prisoners surmounted impossible odds in 2011-2013 to stage a series of three mass hunger strikes joined by 30,000 prisoners at their peak. To offer your help and support to the prisoners at Red Onion, use the contact information at the end of this article. – Art: Kevin “Rashid” Johnson

by Phil Wilayto

Just how bad are things at Virginia’s Red Onion supermax prison?

On May 24, 2023, DeAndre Gordon deliberately started a fire in his cell that caused a third-degree burn on his leg. Gordon, who is Black, said he had been badly beaten by guards at the prison and feared for his life.

“I didn’t know any other way that I could get out of their custody besides to set myself on fire,” Gordon told a reporter with Radio IQ. “Because they don’t have a burn center in Southwest Virginia, I knew that I would be going to Richmond.”

According to the American Burn Association, Virginia has just three facilities capable of dealing with severe burns. Two are in Richmond: the Evans-Haynes Burn Center at VCU Health, a state institution, and the Wound Healing Center at Doctors Hospital, a private hospital. The third is at the Eastern Virginia Medical School in Norfolk.

Red Onion, in Wise County, is about 375 miles west of Richmond.

On Aug. 23 of this year, Demetrius Wallace, 27, also Black, says he set fire to his leg to force a transfer out of Red Onion.

The Defender spoke with Wallace on Nov. 1.

“I did actually set my foot on fire,” Wallace said. “I got the charge that shows it. They came to my cell door and saw the flames on the side of my leg. They took me to medical, they assessed me right there that night, told me they don’t deal with burns, they would have to talk with the nurse practitioner, and that I would have to be taken off the mountain.

“That was Friday, Aug. 23 … so Monday around 2 in the afternoon, they drove me seven hours away to the VCU burn unit. As soon as the doctor sees me, he said, ‘When did this happen?’ I said, ‘Friday.’ He said, ‘Why haven’t you been here?’ I said, ‘I’m not trying to be funny, but I can’t drive myself from the prison.’

“He said to the COs [correction officers], ‘You see this foot? You tell your major I can’t treat him immediately, I have to put him on antibiotics’ to treat the infection.

“I stayed in the hospital for 14 days. They had to do an allograft [a temporary graft using skin from a skin bank] and a skin graft. After 14 days I was sent back to Red Onion state prison. Harassed me, everything is still the same, stuck me in the hole, still being denied access to my JPay [a commercial email service for prisoners] or my actual phone.”

Asked why he had set himself on fire, Wallace said, “I got a lawsuit in because I was assaulted and sprayed by the COs twice while I was handcuffed. So as soon as I filed the lawsuit, they started retaliation. They denied my fiance access to the prison, for no reason; you had COs and a lieutenant looking at her Facebook; they messaged her … She has screenshots.”

Wallace also said he wasn’t the only prisoner who has recently set himself on fire.

“I was in medical, and I witnessed five other offenders who came back there. They had burned their legs or arms. There are still two or three there now.”

On or about Sept. 15, Ekong Eshiet, a 28-year-old African-born prisoner at Red Onion, says he also set fire to his leg.

On Oct. 25, he gave an interview to Prison Riot Radio, a Philadelphia-based online program that provides a platform for prisoners to speak out about prison conditions and other issues.

In the interview, Eshiet said that, two days before, on Oct. 23, he had begun a hunger strike.

“I’m trying to get off of here. I’m doing my best, I’m going about this the right way, I guess, with the hunger strike way. But if I have to, I don’t mind setting myself on fire again, and this time I’ll set my whole body on fire.

“Before I have to stay up here and do the rest of my time up here, I would rather die before I stay up here, because every day I’m dealing with discrimination, whether it’s behind my race, my last name or my religion.”

The Defender has been in touch with Kevin Rashid Johnson, a longtime prisoner activist and author who last December went on a 71-day hunger strike, demanding to be transferred from Red Onion because he said there were no medical facilities in that area equipped to deal with his several severe medical issues. He eventually was sent to VCU Health, then transferred to Greensville Correctional Center, and is now back at Red Onion.

Rashid wrote the Defender that he was in the medical unit at the prison when Eshiet was brought in for treatment, and Rashid said he saw for himself the severe burns on the man’s leg.

“He had been placed in a cell next to me in the prison’s medical department, where I overheard him talking with others about a series of prisoners including himself setting fire to themselves. I could not help asking him what was going on.

“He told me simply that the racism, the horrid and inhumane conditions at the prison, were so intolerable that he and others were setting themselves on fire in desperate attempts to get transferred. These were not protests, he made clear, but acts of desperation hoping to get out of an insufferable situation.”

Rashid, at great risk to himself, wrote a report that he sent to outside news media and support groups. The report was picked up by Prison Riot Radio, the Arlington-based Interfaith Action for Human Rights and The Virginia Defender, among others.

On Oct. 25, this reporter called Red Onion and spoke with the warden, David Anderson. I explained that we had received a report that as many as a dozen prisoners at Red Onion had recently set themselves on fire, and asked if the report was correct.

“No, it’s not true,” Anderson said.

After a pause, he added, “I really shouldn’t be commenting on this.”

“So you’re saying that no one has set themselves on fire?” I asked.

“I can’t speak any further about that,” Anderson answered.

I told Anderson I would send him an email, with further questions. He said he would forward the email to the proper department for a response.

These are the questions sent on Oct. 25:

Over the last two months, did one or more prisoners at Red Onion set themselves on fire, as claimed by the letter writer?

If so, what are the names and prison ID numbers of the men?

What is now the location of each of the men?

What is the medical condition of each of the men?

Have any of the men been charged with institutional or criminal offenses as a result of these alleged actions?

As of this writing, on Nov. 4, there has been no response.

Meanwhile, we have been trying to find corroboration on the reports. undefined

In addition to speaking directly with Demetrius Wallace, we called Marsha Prichett, Eshiet’s mother, on Oct. 25. She said her son has had a very hard time since being sent to Red Onion in June.

“There’s been name calling, they call him Eat-Shit, they spit in his food. After he hurt himself, they treated him for minor burn wounds. “Then the hospital called us to let us know Ekong was in the hospital, but they said we couldn’t visit with him or talk to him because the warden said he was a danger to himself or others. So we couldn’t visit because of what the warden said.”

On Nov. 1, a Friday, the Defender reached out to VCU Health to ask if any Red Onion prisoners had been treated there recently for severe burns. At first we were told the hospital was not allowed to give us that information because of the issue of patient privacy. We hadn’t asked about any particular patient.

On Nov. 4, a Monday, we received a call from Danielle Pierce with VCU Public Relations. We asked if, from Aug. 1 until the present, any Red Onion prisoners had been brought to VCU Health for treatment for severe burns.

“I’m happy to look into it for you,” Pierce said.

Since our press deadline was the next morning, we didn’t expect to receive an answer in time for this story, but we will post any response on this newspaper’s website: virginiadefender.org. [Post-press update: As of Friday, Nov. 8, there has been no response.]

On Nov. 1, the Defender also called and left messages at the offices of Virginia General Assembly Delegate Don Scott, a former prisoner who is now Speaker of the House. We will report any response we get on our website.

We also have been trying to get various Virginia media to cover this story. What is Red Onion? red-onion-supermax-in-isolated-wise-county-va-by-google-earth, Conditions so bad that prisoners set themselves on fire: Crisis and cover-up at Red Onion super-max , Featured World News & Views This Google Earth map gives some idea of how isolated the Red Onion super-max prison is, situated on top of Red Onion Mountain in rural Wise County, far from the famiies of most of the men confined there.

The Justice Policy Center of the Urban Institute describes a supermaximum prison, or “super-max,” as “designed to hold the putatively most violent and disruptive inmates in single cell confinement for 23 hours per day, often for an indefinite period of time.”

Red Onion is a super-max prison. It opened in 1998 in the midst of a big right-wing and media scare about a new crime wave that supposedly was coming, but somehow never did.

Red Onion was supposed to house around 800 of “the worst of the worst” Virginia prisoners. As it turned out, there weren’t enough “worst” prisoners to fill the cells, so Virginia began taking in prisoners from other states – for a price. Further, many of the Virginia prisoners who wound up there were transferred from lower-level security prisons simply for breaking rules, not for committing violent crimes.

Red Onion quickly gained a reputation for extreme repression, cruelty and racism.

A 1999 report by Human Rights Watch stated that the “Virginia Department of Corrections has failed to embrace basic tenets of sound correctional practice and laws protecting inmates from abusive, degrading or cruel treatment” and claimed that “racism, excessive violence and inhumane conditions reign inside.”

In 2001, Amnesty International released a report citing human rights violations at the prison.

The 2016 HBO documentary film “Solitary: Inside Red Onion State Prison” focused on the use and effects of solitary confinement.

In one particularly notorious case, Nicolas Reyes, a Salvadoran immigrant, was kept in solitary confinement for 13 years because he couldn’t complete the mostly English-language Step-Down Program required to be released.

Reyes only spoke Spanish and couldn’t read or write in any language.

With support from the ACLU and other organizations, Reyes was finally released and received a monetary award of $115,000 – which works out to about a dollar for every day he suffered in extreme physical, social, cultural and linguistic isolation.

This is what Rashid has recently written about the prison:

“Red Onion and its sister supermax Wallens Ridge State Prison, are both located in the mountains of the far southwestern corner of Virginia in rural, segregated white communities, while their prisoner populations are near totally Brown and Black.

“Since opening in 1998 and 1999, respectively, both prisons have operated without oversight in regions where the local populations are culturally conditioned to secrecy and hostility to outside scrutiny. Which makes for prisons shielded by a curtain of secrecy, inhumane abuse and racism.

“And while Virginia has been closing down many of its predominantly Black staffed prisons across the state, it has shifted resources and focused new prison construction projects in favor of opening and operating prisons in remote, racially segregated regions of the state like where Red Onion and Wallens Ridge are located.

“The strongest public exposure and protest needs to be directed at these expensive, inhumane and unneeded human warehouses. They must be opened up to broad public scrutiny and accountability, and closed down.

“This exposure and protest should be continually directed against the Virginia governor, Virginia Department of Corrections Director Chadwick Dotson and the state’s General Assembly.

“Every effort must be made to share this information and increase public awareness about these places, their inhumane conditions and the desperate extremes they are driving fellow humans to in their pleas for relief.

“Dare to Struggle Dare to Win!

“All Power to the People!”

Interfaith Action for Human Rights has started an online petition urging change at Red Onion. To sign, log onto change.org and search for “Investigate Self-Harm Episodes and Improve Inhumane Conditions at Red Onion Prison.”

As we go to press, Kevin Rashid Johnson, Ekong Eshiet and Demetrius Wallace are all being held in solitary confinement – what the prison calls “restrictive housing.” All three men have reason to fear for their lives.

Rashid, who has been targeted because of his outspoken condemnation of the whole Virginia prison system, has outside attorneys working to try to get him transferred out of Red Onion.

Note: Both Rashid and Demetrius Wallace have given the Defender permission to quote them for this story. We haven’t spoken directly with Ekong Eshiet.

Conclusion

At this point, we are confident in reporting that at least two men held at the Red Onion State Prison – Demetrius Wallace and Ekong Eshiet, and possibly others, have taken the desperate step of setting themselves on fire to try to force the prison officials to transfer them out of that notorious hellhole.

And the prison system is not only denying that these events ever happened, but have taken steps to isolate the men involved in order to keep the public from knowing about it.

The Virginia Defenders are calling for an immediate, independent, impartial, outside investigation of the conditions of these three men, as well as the general conditions at Red Onion. We will be sending copies of this story to Gov. Glenn Youngkin, Virginia Attorney General Jason Miyares, all members of the Virginia General Assembly, U.S. Senators Tim Kaine and Mark Warner, Virginia Department of Corrections Director Chadwick Dotson and all our contacts in the Virginia media.

[bcacstuff]

Don't you think Sam should defend her

Well, I can imagine people would think as a first reaction he should, or should say something about it. But then again, if he does, I'm sure the fans who do these stupid things, would immediately see it as him confirming some sort of relationship or something. You know how this fandom, or better said the deranged ones in it are.

He can't do right in this case, he's between a rock and a hard place. We're talking about 2 women, should he address the entire fandom for this? And with that give it perhaps unwanted and more attention then it deserves? What will be the result of that, you might ask yourself. Of course we know there's much more going on in this fandom, but it isn't reserved solely for this fandom:

I've received a link a while back, and still have this article open on one of my tabs in the browser. I had the intention to answer the Anon that sent it to me a few weeks ago, but as there were so many things going on, I didn't want it to get buried by the many other posts.

It's this article:

There are some really good parts in it that can be translated one on one for this fandom, even though the artists in this article are musicians. Already in the first paragraphs you can read:

This summer, norms of pop flipped when musicians started telling off their fans. Leading the pack was Chappell Roan, the 26-year-old breakout star of 2024. In a statement on Instagram, she outlined the “too many nonconsensual physical and social interactions” she had had with fans, including people hassling her family and friends.

An expert view on it:

“The relationship between fans and artists is a power balance,” says Dr Lucy Bennett, a lecturer in journalism, media and culture at Cardiff University. “Sometimes the power can tip back and forth.” Fandom, she explains, is a deeply emotional thing where people can feel a sense of home and belonging. It can lead to an intense connection to the music, something only heightened by the access to artists provided by social media. “But the problem that we have is how fans can forge a direct connection when they’re one among potentially millions that follow the artist. Those artists can’t reach out to every fan online. But to those who aren’t noticed, how does this make them feel? And what lengths may some fans go to get noticed?”

A former deranged fan's experience

Someone who has grappled with this themselves is Emily, a 26-year-old Taylor Swift fan from Idaho. Emily, who asked to be referred to under a pseudonym for fear of being doxed, was once a dedicated Swiftie, spending thousands of dollars on merchandise and concert tickets. During the Lover era of 2019, however, she began to see contradictions in Swift’s image and found her sudden embrace of politics inauthentic and calculated. “I was upset because it seemed the person I thought she was wasn’t real,” she says. She was also put off by the growing toxicity among a fandom that no longer felt like a community. Prior to Swift’s hit album 1989, “Taylor had said that she wasn’t going to interact with fans on social media because one fan might feel more important than the other,” she says. But Swift began doing secret live sessions for fans, found via fan accounts online. “It did exactly what she thought that might,” Emily says. “Fans were suddenly fighting with each other saying, ‘You’re not good enough because you don’t obsess with her on the level I do, or ‘You don’t have as much merch as I do and you don’t know every song like I do.’ It was kind of gross.” Emily became so distraught that she would vent to her friends about her disappointment. “When I look back it now,” she says, “it’s like, wow. I was really deranged. Taylor Swift doesn’t know who the hell I am. She doesn’t care what I think. This is actually a me problem. I needed to step back and realise that.” She cites social media and the 24/7 access to information about Swift as one reason why she became so obsessed with the singer’s life. “I had to get some hobbies outside of discussing Taylor Alison Swift.”

And again the expert's view as an end conclusion

To realign the relationship between fans and artists, Bennett believes that musicians may need to step away from sharing so much of their lives on social media. “But it’s really important that they speak up if they feel that they’re experiencing unacceptable behaviour from the fans,” she adds.

It's a really good read, so if you're interested and have a bit of time, I'd recommend reading the whole article. There is no easy answer to this phenomena or to your question Anon.

PS. To Anon sending me the link a few weeks ago, thank you 🧡. You were right, I found this interesting. I'm sorry it took so long to post it, but it deserves all the attention.

[jarofstyles]

Cerulean

Here it is! Indigo part 2… even years later lol. after literal years... we are continuing with it. If you're unfamiliar, here is part one.

I hope you enjoy our new(ish) babies.

Check out our Patreon!

warnings- mention of anxiety, tattoos, tooth rotting fluffy babies, miscommunication

WC- 4.2k

----

Y/N stared nervously at her phone. Harry’s contact was up in the bubble, her first message to him sitting unsent on the screen.

He had actually given her his number. He said that he would talk to her about his tattoos and his shop and he had said she could call him H, which- Gah! She wanted to squeal when she had woken up and remembered it all. The headache had been gnarly, but she recalled most of the night very vividly. How Harry had taken charge and told the man bothering her off, how he had admitted that she intimidated her somehow because he thought she was pretty and his glaring wasn’t because of hatred- it was nerves, anxiety and trying to figure out how to talk to her.

He’d placed her number into his phone under a simple letter, H, and promised to text him later.

Did the next day qualify as later?

It was almost noon and she had sent off a few emails to her publisher that was working with her on one of her fashion articles, trying to waste time to not seem overly eager. Washing the dishes, switching her laundry, even taking her cat for a walk(unconventional but Nibbles had been a street kitten, he liked to go outside), even taking a full body shower with the shaving and the deep hair mask. Her headache had faded to an dull throb with the help of a tylenol, and she was now ready to bite the bullet.

Y/N: Hiiii :D It’s Y/N.

Y/N: Hope I’m not bugging you but I was thinking about finally getting a tattoo. I had some questions and I figured you’d be perfect to ask.

It wasn’t a lie. Y/N really had been considering a tattoo and asking Harry, though she had been planning on going to him anyway out of courtesy before she had gotten the whole ‘i think he hates me’ thing cleared up. She’d never go to a different artist if she could support someone in the friend group. Now it was an exciting thing for her, a giddiness in her stomach rising when she saw the three dots in the texting bubble showing that he was replying.

Hm. He didn’t have his read receipts on. Interesting.

A response popped up quite quickly after sending her message.

H: Hi. You aren’t bugging. Come down to the shop, it’s slow today.

Y/N nearly choked on her lemonade. He wanted her to come? Today?! Her bare foot tapped anxiously against the carpet as she blinked at her phone screen, trying to find the right words to respond. She didn’t want to bother him or annoy him, even though he had said she wasn't’ bugging', the girl was still a bit nervous. Last night she had called him super cool and said she wanted to spend time with him alone but she had to wonder if she was brave enough to do it so soon.

Y/N: Are you sure? I really don’t want to be a bother or anything.

His response came just as fast as the last. Did he have his phone screen open or something?

H: You aren’t. I’m doing paperwork so I don’t mind.

H: Can you bring me a coffee? I’ll venmo you.

She felt a laugh bubble from her throat as she looked at the messages. She hadn’t said yes but he was most definitely telling her to get her ass over there if she read between the lines. Considering it was a weekend, she had no excuse not to. Besides her nerves, she didn’t have one either. She liked Harry. She thought he was really cute and mysterious and he was polite when he spoke last night and something about him had her so intrigued. The girl knew she would kick herself if she didn’t go, so that’s how the decision was made.

Y/N: Sugar or cream? Do you do a latte or something fancy? Frappichino?

H: Black, please. Cold foam on top. Thanks xx

—-

Harry knew he was being awfully presumptuous but he also knew himself.

It was now or never.

Last night he had finally found his balls and spoken to the cute little thing. Granted, it took him standing up for her against a creep, but he had still done it. Y/N was coming to the nearly empty shop to talk about a tattoo, what he knew would be her very fucking first, and he was so nervous he could probably vomit if he thought about it too long.

He had always been known to be an intimidating man. He was littered with dark swirls of ink on his skin, piercings on his nose and eyebrow-and some other not so visible places-, he was pretty tall and broad shouldered and he was said to have what Niall loved to call a ‘bitch face’. His hair was longer, needing a cut as it was falling into his face, and he had his moody demeanor which tended to scare people off. Even as a teenager, pre tats and everything, he had sat quietly behind his friends while he observed and was able to keep prying people away with a simple quirk of the brow.

While that intimidating air worked wonders for getting annoyingly nosy people to fuck off and to get laid every once in a while by a girl who wanted a night with a ‘bad boy’, -words said by 2 of them, not himself- he sure as fuck didn’t want Y/N to think of him that way.

Y/N was just… She was his opposite in every way and he really, really liked it. Soft curved features as opposed to his own hard ones, a gentle glow to the eyes instead of his hardened glimmer. She had a sweet, bubbly voice that made him hang off her every damn word when he got the privilege to go out when she was there. She had called herself a fucking cinnamon roll, and she had been right. Sweet and fluffy and coated in sugar. Something he’d fucking love to taste, given the chance.

That would be a bit down the line considering Y/N wasn’t the type of girl he’d want to hook up with. She was the girl that he’d want his Mum to meet. She was the breakfast in bed, flowers every week, buy pretty dresses for type of girl. Every woman deserves that, but for him? Y/N was that exact type. He hooked up with girls that he knew he wouldn’t get attached to. Quick fucks at their place, bar bathrooms, cars. He didn’t let them inside his world because he knew what he wanted.

He’d dated before, had his heart broken a small handful of times to know what he wanted and what he didn’t. Hopefully he’d be able to sniff out some more about Y/N that he hadn’t found out through the social gatherings, grapevines and checking out her social media. She made cute little videos of her outfits almost every day on her instagram story that he watched when he had the chance. She had a cat as well. She liked pastel colors and drank a lot of tea and lemonade. She liked the pink starbursts best- he knew just from the exposure he’d gotten. The itch to gather more information had hit him hard.

Thankfully she was coming to see him today and he could stop being such a pussy. Face her alone and talk to her face to face. She was too nice to judge him if he stuttered or said the wrong thing, at least not outwardly.

He’d hoped she would text today, hoped he’d have an excuse to see her. His outfit had a bit more effort than his other ones. Sticking with all black because spilled ink was an absolute bitch to get out, if not impossible, he chose his favorite black jeans with the holes in the knees, frayed strings something to pick at when he was bored. On top he wore a black button up with little roses as buttons, left open down to his mid chest. Maybe it was slutty, but he liked to show off the ink he had. It was something he was proud of. His necklaces hung down mid chest, the silver chains and pendants slightly tangled now that he had taken a look, but it sort of worked.

He had been mid inspection when he heard the door bell jingle and the receptionist greet Y/N.

Y/N was a bit shocked at just how nice it was when she walked in. Outside she had seen the neon light in the window and the sign up above, already impressed, but it got better when she walked inside. The red and black tattoo shop had an edgy vibe. As she stepped inside, she was greeted by the checkered floors that give off a retro feel. On the left-hand side, there was a flash wall littered with a plethora of designs, featuring different what she assumed were the tattoo styles of each artist who worked out of the shop.

As she walked towards the reception desk, Y/N noticed it was made of thick dark wood and had a glossy finish and a smiling dark haired receptionist sitting behind the desk. Black frames on the side wall showed off their business license and framed newspaper articles about the shop. Obviously it had raving reviews. Y/N felt a bit guilty for not knowing, but proud of him. Obviously it was a well respected show.. Behind the desk, there was a glass cabinet displaying various jewelry for piercings and shop merchandise. She wondered if she could buy one of the hoodies or tee shirts to support him?  Oh, maybe a tote bag. That was definitely something she would use. She’d always liked the little logo. It was a bit of a surprise to her that she’d never seen him wear any of it before, only on his instagram.

Maybe he didn’t want random people talking to him about tattoos when he was out?

Greeting the receptionist, she let her eyes wander around. There seemed to be rooms for tattooing and piercings down a long hallway, some thick black, crushed velvet curtains that can be drawn closed for privacy. Convenient. At least they cared about that. Some of the ones she had looked at online pre-Harry had the bare minimum.

“Hi! Did you have an appointment?” The girl behind the counter was dressed in what she could tell was retro clothing, a slightly off the shoulder red top and a string of chunky pearls around her neck. Her hair was done up so neatly that Y/N had been instantly jealous. She had never been good at doing updos, nor did she look good with that sort of poof, but she wished she did. Her bright red lipstick would be a lot during the day for someone else, but on her? It worked. Y/N was a little intimidated already. She seemed really cool just by looking at her.

“N-No, uh, Harry told me to come-”

“She’s here for me, Liz.” Harry’s voice interrupted her own. Y/N turned around, tray of coffee in hand and a brown paper bag in the other. “This is Y/N. She’s cool.”

Cool? He thought she was cool too. Y/N felt herself flush under her clothes, swallowing thickly as he sauntered over and took the tray from her hands. “Thanks for this, gorgeous. Forgot to get new coffee for the machine.”

Y/N felt like she was having a bit of an episode. Gorgeous? He had called her gorgeous and walked over to her so confidently, as if his nerves that had gotten him to make her think he hated her had disappeared. Perhaps it was because he was in his own domain, his element. Thankfully, Liz had kept her from having to respond right away.

“Oh, sick.” She smiled up at her from her swivel chair. “Harry never has his friends here. Besides the ones who work here and Niall, but he always leaves a mess in the break room. It’s nice to see a new face. You’re really pretty.”

Y/N had to admire the confidence she carried. She was so pretty and could easily talk to people, joking with her already as if they were friends for years. “Thank you, you are as well.” She replied, the compliment making her feel even more flustered. “Niall is very good at leaving messes, I’m afraid.” That’s something she knew first hand. “I don’t have any tattoos yet so uh, Harry offered to talk to me about it.”

“Virgin skin! How exciting.” Liz chirped, twirling her straw around. “Honestly, Harry’s a great artist, perfect for a first timer if you can ignore the mean mugging. He’s super gentle and has the best lines I’ve ever seen.”

Y/N had to smile. Of course he was good. A glance at him had her observing the slight pink in his cheeks as he narrowed his eyes at Liz, who to her credit, didn’t seem phased. He was slightly embarrassed at the attention on him but still happy that she had talked him up.

Harry would be heartbroken if he scared her off of tattoos, but he tried to be a good artist with everyone. Perhaps he wasn’t super talkative but most of his clients were veteran ink people with loads already on their skin. They knew to sit quietly or listen to the music, or bring a friend to chat with so he could do his damn job.

“Anyways.” Harry cleared his throat. “Mitch’s appointment just pulled into the lot. Y/N and I are going into the office, scream if you need me.” His nod to follow her was brief, Y/N holding on to her handbag for dear life as his long legs carried him down the hallway at a much faster pace that she usually did. Thankfully she was able to hide how winded the quickness of the long hallway had made her once he opened his office door.

The floors were hardwood in his office. He had his own black desk, a black leather couch with a red acrylic coffee table and a shelf full of books. Windows from behind the desk gave it decent lighting. It was clean in here, cleaner than Y/N had ever kept her own office.

“Sorry about that.” He murmured to her, setting the coffee down on the smooth red table. “She’s really overly friendly. Great for customers but a bit nosy.” He walked towards his desk to grab his iPad and stylus, slightly flustered when the white thing fell back on the desk. His nerves were most definitely showing. Turning around he was ready to keep talking, but he was met by her body halfway across the room to look at some of his old framed flash sheets he had on the far wall.

“These are so cool, Harry.” She said quietly, eyes scanning the designs. “And you just thought of all these off the top of your head?” Turning herself to face him, she watched as he gave her a tiny bit of a smile. Still pink in the cheeks, which soothed her own nerves a little. His confidence at first had made her a tad bit scared that she was the only one stressing out about it, but he was obviously affected just as much.

“Erm… some of them. I use some reference pictures, get inspired by other works and change it so it’s my own. A lot of it is things I randomly get ideas for, though.” He rubbed his knuckle over his chin. “I work with a lot of clients who already have ideas and wants so the perimeters are more strict, so with flash it’s more of what I want to do. People who get them have a say in color and size but usually it’s a pre-printed stencil.” He explained, crossing his arms as he approached her.

She smelled really good. Was that a weird thing to think? Maybe. But it was true. He was hyperaware of everything right now, trying his best to not put his leather boot into his mouth and fuck up. There was genuine approval on her face, getting closer to the frames to scope out details and truly admiring each one. “Are these the retired ones, your favorites? Why are they stuck back here instead of with the ones out front?” Inquisitive eyes met his own.

“These are ones I’ve already done. I don’t do a ton of flash anymore because I’m usually booked for customs.” His own eyes took in the old flash sheets. Each design was something he had loved creating, but the time for them had passed. That didn’t mean he didn’t want to remember them, though. “But all of these were claimed by people when we had flash events. I don’t think it’s bad to have similar tattoos as other people but I tend to not do the same thing twice. I had gotten really sick of doing the same infinity signs and hearts and roses when I was an apprentice at the first shop.” God, he was glad that trend was over. Mostly. “There’s nothing inherently wrong with hearts or roses, s’just repetitive and I like to do stuff that challenges me. Y’know?” He turned to look at her, finding her already staring up at him. That stupid flutter moved around his stomach again.

“Oh, I can imagine. I’m really glad I didn’t get the tattoos I had on my pinterest board. I had it growing from like… 2013 to 2017 and all of them now seem very…” She rolled her lips together as she tried to politely find the word for cringe. “Not me. It’s actually why I haven't gotten anything yet.” Arms wrapped around herself, feeling a bit insecure about it. Here was this beautiful tattoo artist, in talent and looks, and she was telling him about her pinterest board of tattoos. He must be internally rolling his eyes because he did a good job of keeping a soft smile on his lips. Was it even legal for men to have lips that pretty and deep pink? Maybe it was just unfair. “I wanted to wait until I felt ready.”

“That’s a really good thing to do.” Harry was proud of her for that. Smart girl. Leaning against the side of his desk, he kept his arms crossed as he continued to talk. “You don't know how many people get impulsive tattoos as their first and regret it later. Now.. m’not one to judge because I’m fuckin’ littered in dumb ones, but I always think of it as a memory. Even if its’ a memory of being a dumbass.” His heart fluttered when he got a giggle out of her. Fucks sake, he was pathetic. “Removal is possible but not at all fun. Got a few mates and some clients who got their old ink taken off and it isn’t pleasant. Waiting is the smartest thing to do if you’re someone who thinks you could possibly regret it.”

Y/N didn’t strike him as an impulsive person. Every time he had seen her, she had seemed pretty put together. Though she could seem a little chaotic, it was an organized chaos that he had always liked. Harry, despite his impulse with tattoos when he was young and tipsy in his partying stage, liked to be a controlled person. Sometimes it was too much, which led to the anxiety he had. It was part of the reason he had such a hard time talking to Y/N at first.

She was so cute and so sweet and Harry wanted their conversations to be perfect. He had a track record of saying dumb things or at the very least, not saying them how they were meant when he was nervous. Usually his anxiety was hidden very well. He didn’t get it when it came to clients or tattoos or anything work related, but in his personal and social life? It was rampant. That was part of the reason he had quit drinking. That was a story for a different time, though.

“Yeah, I really don’t want removal.” Her nose scrunched a bit like a bunny, making his heart stutter in his chest. Cute little thing, she was. “That’s why I wanted to come to you.” There was a slight pause. “I was going to come to you even when I thought you hated me. I’d never want to support a different shop when someone in my circle is talented and has their own business.”

That hurt him a little. Even when she was under the impression that she hated him and was glaring at her, that he had made her uncomfortable, she had planned on supporting him anyways? What sort of fucking angel was she? He winced visibly at the reminder of her original thoughts. He had massively fucked up with that. What an idiot he had been. His nerves had gotten the best of him yet again.

“Y/N, I truly am sorry that I came across that way. It’s not the case, nor has it even been.” He swallowed, looking down at her hands that were clasped together. She was rocking on her heels and he could tell she had probably not wanted to bring that up, but he was glad she did because it did need to be properly addressed while she was 100% sober. “What I said last night is the truth. You just… y’make me a little nervous and I don’t like that I had no idea what to say to you.” She had come into their little friend group and been so fucking adorable, so kind and ready to take someone home if they needed, buy them a drink, talk about her little fashion brand deals. Y/N listened to everything people said, she would find the eyes of a person who had been drowned out by other conversation and encourage them. The best sort of person. “I don’t do well with people I think are pretty, people I think are sweet. S’a little intimidating for me.”

Y/N still didn’t know how that worked, but she could imagine that it must have been weird for him. She couldn’t see how she of all people could be considered intimidating but it made her a little giddy that Harry had found her to be pretty and sweet. It had been the complete opposite of what she expected to be the reason. “Well, thank you. For thinking I’m pretty and sweet, that’s- that’s really nice.” Her eyes fell down while she couldn't keep the smile off her face. “I thought maybe I’d done something like… I dunno, I get kinda touchy and gooey when I’m drunk. I asked everyone if I had accidentally said something or hung on you the first night and didn’t remember meeting you but they’d said no.” That was one of the downfalls of Y/N drunk. She loved to spread love and give cuddles and hugs. Sometimes she didn’t think twice and that had caused her friends to keep her wrangled in their grasp.

“No, no. I wouldn’t have minded any of that.” Harry realized what he had said but continued talking. “It was just me being nervous. I just wanted to apologize again cause I hate to think that you were upset about it at all… n’then…” He rolled his head back to look at the ceiling for a moment. “I feel shitty that you were going to come to me for a tattoo even after I was a dick. Even if I didn’t realize it then. You’re just a really good person.” He looked back down to see Y/N giving him a tiny smile, stepping closer to him. “Fuck, I’m rambling. Sorry.”

“No! No, it’s okay. I uh..” Another pause was paired with a pink tongue peeking out to lick her lips that Harry paid a bit too much attention to for his own good. “It’s just nice to hear you talk. You’re always so quiet but you’ve got a nice speaking voice. I like it.”

Harry wanted to scream, actually. He wanted to groan and drop his head into her sweet smelling neck and do god knows what, because that compliment made him feel really flattered and flustered. Y/N just had that fucking thing about her, this weird trait that he couldn’t quite describe that made him feeling like he was a schoolboy all over again being paired up with his crush for an assignment. How lucky was he? She had wanted his art on her forever.

“Thanks.” His response was slightly shy, looking back up at her with the pink tint still on his cheeks. He knew the back of his neck was probably flushed too.

“No problem.” Another slight pause where neither of them knew how to proceed followed but, this time neither seemed to particularly mind. Deciding to move it on so he didn’t have to look uncomfortable anymore, Y/N shot him another one of those smiles before moving back towards the coffee table, grabbing her cup from the cardboard tray. “So. Let’s talk about designs.”