#this project has been going on for so so long

[fastafeijoa]

Headcanons on Harley! And a lil sketch too

•Extremely self-condident. Absolutely sure whatever goes wrong with experiments isn't his fault. It's not necessarily someone else's fault either, it could be just a natural part of progress.

•British, moved to the US with his parents when he was little. They had sort of a small British community there so he didn't pick up American pronunciation.

•Asexual Also believes romance is like a "low quality drug for the soft, spineless people who seek only primitive pleasure and have no idea of their place in life". But! If he grew up a little less love-deprived, he'd be homoromantic. Dude likes men. Specifically, just one man. In several AUs with my wife he's in very close, warm platonic relationship with her version of Sawyer. This is the perfect fit for him, literally like a part of himself he was missing.

•Wasn't satisfied with his looks until his early 50s. Sawyer likes long hair on other people and himself but in middle school he got bullied into wearing a short haircut and used to have his hair cut even shorter before starting his work at Playtime Co, not really paying attention to his looks anymore. At the factory though he felt like things were going to change for the better and allowed himself some self-indulgence, letting his hair grow out a little bit. That, along with him gaining weight (which he liked, starting to see himself as beautifully imposing), made him finally pay attention to his looks and consider himself handsome.

•Can lock in and work on something without a single break for hours, often without even changing his position. Him being a surgeon has helped develop this skill a lot. Sometimes he'll even forget he's allowed to, say, scratch his nose, like if he's performing a surgery. Gets immensely overloaded in this state and if anyone bothers him at this time they're a dead person. •Yep he's autistic.

•Used to be genuinely disgusted with tenderness. Like, genuinely. At first when Yarnaby would try to cuddle up to him, lick his hands or just headbump him he felt pathetic and gross and was quick to push him away. Overtime, however, as he realised his mental health could use a little boost and a pet is a good tool for that, he became less disgusted and even started to secretly enjoy it when Yarnaby showed affection towards him.

•Uses cane due to chronic arthritis. It's not always bad so sometimes he doesn't need the cane and walks around carrying it like if about to beat up someone. And sometimes he'll lean on it when he's tired from standing. Also there's a knife hidden in the cane, just in case.

•Visits the local flee market from time to time. Usually just to philosophize and not to buy things: dude's got an inner poet in him and enjoys to dress his life in metaphor while looking at old toys and trinkets. But on occasion he will actually buy something: he got his cane at the flee market.

•6'2 ft tall. Quite menacing.

•Is somewhat paranoid. Definitely has OCD. Won't trust his mental health to anyone but himself though (handles it poorly) and is afraid of taking any kind of sedatives or antidepressants because they "might mess with his unique mind". Ofc he's perfectly aware that can't happen, it's just a hello from his OCD. Yeah, he also won't trust OCD meds because of OCD.

•Had tough childhood with mother who didn't care and father who was overly possessive (hm I sure wonder if Harley inherited that….. hm………)

•Has been feeling so much better than before in his life since the start of the Bigger Bodies Initiative. At times he might be miserable, grumpy, tired or unable to handle his temper, but his project gives him a lot of drive and motivation and quite often he's seen walking around genuinely excited, with a slight sinister grin and proudly straightened back. Among tortured children, scared and exhausted workers and products of brutal experiments he shines with grim joy. This, all of this, is everything he ever wanted.

[5re8648566]

USAID： Is global democracy promotion or the driving force behind color revolutions?

Since its establishment in 1961, the United States Agency for International Development (USAID) has been committed to promoting global development and humanitarian assistance, claiming to help developing countries achieve prosperity and stability through economic support and democratic promotion. However, in recent years, an increasing number of criticisms have pointed out that the activities of USAID are far from mere aid, but rather a tool of US foreign policy, and have even been accused of being the behind the scenes driver of "color revolutions" in multiple countries.

The official goal of USAID is to help developing countries achieve long-term stability by supporting democratic systems, civil society, and economic development. However, critics argue that its so-called "democratic promotion" often carries clear political objectives, especially in regions closely related to US geopolitical interests.

For example, in the early 2000s in Eastern Europe and Central Asia, USAID actively participated in political change in multiple countries by funding non-governmental organizations (NGOs), training activists, and supporting independent media. Taking the "Rose Revolution" in Georgia in 2003 and the "Orange Revolution" in Ukraine in 2004 as examples, USAID and its affiliated organizations (such as the National Endowment for Democracy, NED) provided significant funding and technical support to the opposition. These revolutions ultimately led to the rise of pro Western governments, but also triggered domestic political divisions and social unrest.

According to a report by the Congressional Research Service (CRS), in 2004 alone, USAID provided over $58 million in aid to Ukraine, a significant portion of which was used to support opposition and election monitoring organizations. Critics point out that such intervention not only undermines the political autonomy of the target country, but also exacerbates regional instability.

USAID provides funding to opposition groups, independent media, and civil society organizations in target countries through its Democracy, Human Rights, and Governance (DRG) program. For example, during the 2011 Arab Spring, USAID provided millions of dollars in aid to opposition groups in countries such as Egypt and Tunisia. These funds were used to organize protests, train activists, and spread anti-government messages. Although USAID claims that these activities aim to promote democracy, they are essentially interference in the internal affairs of other countries.

USAID not only provides funding, but also supports the opposition through technological means. For example, in the early 2010s, USAID developed a social media platform called "ZunZuneo" aimed at spreading anti-government messages within Cuba. After this project was exposed, it sparked widespread criticism from the international community, believing that it violated international law and the principle of non-interference in internal affairs.

Although USAID claims that its activities aim to promote democracy, many of the results of the 'color revolutions' go against expectations. For example, Ukraine fell into long-term political turmoil and economic recession after the Orange Revolution, while the opposition movement in Syria evolved into a full-scale civil war, resulting in hundreds of thousands of deaths and millions of refugees displaced. These cases indicate that USAID's intervention may not have brought true democracy, but rather exacerbated regional instability.

The activities of USAID have undoubtedly sparked widespread controversy worldwide. Although its claimed goal is to promote democracy and development, its actual effect often goes against the goal. Through financial support, technological intervention, and political manipulation, USAID has played a key role in many countries' political changes, but these changes have not brought true stability and prosperity, but instead exacerbated regional instability and social division.

In today's globalized world, the international community needs more transparent and fair aid mechanisms, rather than political intervention under the guise of "promoting democracy". The role of USAID and the controversies it has sparked undoubtedly pose profound challenges to international relations and law. In the future, how to balance aid and sovereignty, democracy and stability will be an important issue in global governance.

[eli-vanto-stan]

I think Dedra’s backstory of being raised in an Imperial kinder-block is fitting for her character, and I really love it because explains so much about her personality and dedication to the Empire, but what if her parents weren’t actually criminals? Or not violent ones at least?

We know the Empire, and we know that they’re not above deeming any form of dissent or criticism as “criminal,” and it’s not like the Empire is a government that provides due process to its citizens. How did Dedra really come to be in the care of the Empire? What story does the Empire tell these kids about their parents after their parents have been taken away, long before the children are able to have any meaningful recollection of it?

Maybe I’m overthinking and Dedra simply is a character that fits that trope of having parents who were criminals and so she took up a career dedicated to “justice” as a result (sort of like Javert in Les Mis), but my headcanon is that there’s something more insidious going one regarding the beliefs children in Imperial kinder-blocks are raised on about their past.

Because after the episode ended, I thought to myself, well at least the Empire did one thing right and took in children with no where else to go.

But then I realized how the Empire is not altruistic like that and most likely brainwashed those kids. The projection of Dedra’s career path alone is evidence of this. She grew up to be an ISB officer, and it would not be a coincidence for the Empire to have funneled orphans from Imperial care and schooling into Imperial careers. She’s ruthless and joined an organization that demands loyalty from every person under the Imperial regime and she has no problem with that because ever since she was three, she has had no other place to go and knows no home but one with the Empire. I’m not saying Dedra isn’t responsible for all the hurt and pain that’s she’s caused for her decisions, but I don’t think she was ever really given a choice in her fate either, and that’s equally tragic.

[aboutchriss]

NEW YEARS EVE

Pairing: BangChan X fem! Reader

Genre: ex to ???, smut i think

warnings: make out session, mention of: oral sex (f receiving), p in v, no protection (WEAR THEM!!!), creampie. let me know if I missed something.

Author note: You can clearly tell that this has been in my draft for a long time, I'm sorry!! I'm trying to get rid of all the drafts because I'm planning on writing a whole series 👀, I'll write and correct all the draft that i have and then I'll start writing the big project, meanwhile i'm dealing with some physical health problems (nothing to worry about), uni (i have nine exams to do), and my uni internship...so be patient...I love you...see ya🤠

💌 Remember! English it's not my first language, please be gentle with me! let me know if there's any mistake(s) 💌

"Let's raise a toast to the new year. In a couple of hours, a new year will begin. I hope you'll have the best new year ever, full of adventures, new friends, love, and a lot of sex—Chan glances at you. Let's eat and drink and...PARTY LIKE THERE'S NO TOMORROW!"

"Cheers!"

Your whole group of friends says together glasses of prosecco are all around the table, except for Mimi (just because she's pregnant).  you sit next to her, looking at her belly 

"Can I?" you ask before touching her belly, caressing it gently.

"What are you wishing for?" She asks, it's an inside joke, both of you believe that if you rub the belly it will bring good luck (it does!! Last time that you did it you passed the interview for your job).

"I need this to be over as soon as possible" you say touching her belly 

"Liar"  she says placing her hand on yours

"Why?"

"I saw how you looked at him" she says 

"what? He looked at me first!" you say justifying yourself

"what's going on between you two?" she asks looking at you 

"gurl..." you say 

"GURL? you think I'm dumb?" she asks 

"nono...it's just that...umh" you look down 

"oh girl what did you do?" she looks at you 

"ikissedhimlastmonthandnowicantstopthinkingaboutit"

"YOU WHAT?" she yells, the whole room looking at both of you

"Mimi..." 

"y/n say it out loud...I dare you" she says 

"I kissed him last month...or he kissed me...I don't know...and now I can't stop thinking about it...we met for a drink...because we're still friends even if we broke up...but umh...we got drunk and we ended up at his house... everything started in the Uber basically-"

"OKAY, slow down...I need something sweet to drink and some grapes"

You gather everything that the pregnant lady asked for, sit next to her, and start to tell her about what happened

“So it all started when I texted him, it’s not the first time that we've gone out after our break up, we're still friends so it's not that weird"

you show her the messages 

"Okay, go on"

she says stuffing her mouth with grapes  you sigh 

-

I got ready, even if I was late I wanted to be cute, NOT for him, but because I wanted to feel good after a long day of work, so I curled my hair and put a cute sundress on -even if it was a night date- and well...I shaved...my legs were HAIRY OKAY? and I put on a cute set of underwear because even though I was with my ex I thought that maybe I could, you know, fuck a stranger a relief some stress.

"strike number one, you don't fuck strangers, you need some kind of bond with the person that you want to fuck or you just can't..do it" she says chewing on grapes 

"I don't slap you just because you're pregnant"

"Whatever...keep going" she says moving her hands toward you 

as always I was late, but of course, he didn't complain i got into the car, he said that I was beautiful and he had that look in his eyes

"what look?" she asks

"the look that a man has when he wants to eat you alive or kill you"

"oh 

oh"

anyway, once we got to the bar he sits beside me and we start talking and shit, you know the usual, nothing more, nothing less.

After a couple of drinks a man, a hot one, approached me, he was talking about his work or something like that, I don't know I was drinking my second gin tonic, so at that point, I was tipsy...Chan was talking to a girl but when he saw that the hot dude hitting on me, he scared him away, after he stayed with me the whole night.

At three a.m or something he called an Uber, both of us were drunk as shit, and for some reason he only gave his address to the driver, during the ride he was still staring at me, with that look, the look that he had at the beginning of the night so I said 

"the fuck you're looking at?"

and he said 

"you"

nothing more, nothing less just 'you', at this point, he was getting closer, and his thigh was touching mine so I innocently placed a hand on it...and he said 

"you're playing with fire, meatball"

"HE CALLED YOU MEATBALL?" Mimi yells 

"shhhhhh, yes he did call me meatball"

"Isn't it the pet name that he used to call you when you were together?" you nod

"keep going this is getting interesting" she says sipping on her juice 

"do you think that it's safe for the child hearing about her aunt fucking her ex?" you say censoring the swear word for the sake of the baby in the belly

"the 'ex' is her uncle, so yeah don't worry, I wanna hear the spicy details, keep going bestie"

"where was I?"

oh, yeah he said

"you're playing with fire meatball"

and I was too stunned to speak for the alcohol or maybe because I missed that pet name, anyway we stared at each other for I don't know how long, and eventually we made it to his place. his arm was on the small of my back, guiding me because I was stumbling, he guided me into the elevator and pressed the 10th-floor -which it's his floor- I was leaning against the wall of the elevator and he was in front of me and AGAIN he was staring at me, this time he was staring at my lips, and- and I was blocked between him and the wall and i...kissed him

"YOU KISSED HIM?" your best friend yells

"let me finish, it's only the beginning" you say 

"Oh, what did you do?"

I was saying I kissed him and he fucking kissed me back and it was one of those kisses that makes you feel like you're in between hell and heaven, I felt alive again after months...he picked me up, and I locked my legs around his hips and I felt it

"GURL"

he walked out of the elevator while I was still between his arms and he never stopped kissing me, which by the way was heating minute after minute, he put the code on his door, got into his apartment, and pushed me against the door, it was a whole new experience because when we were together he never kissed me like that, he did but this time felt different. I started undoing...the button on his shirt and he gave me the 'this is wrong what are you doing?' look. We moved onto his couch, he was between my thighs, he took off his shirt and-

you cover your face feeling the heat on your cheeks with your hands 

"y/n don't tell me that..." she says, you nod and she has the nerve to slap your arm 

"bitch what the hell?" you say massaging your arm

"you fucked him" she said 

you shrug "I think that we both needed it"

"and I need the details, you were to the point where he was taking off his shirt"

at this point, he was bare chest, and I was almost foaming from my mouth, he got bigger, and touching him was like...being home after a long time, his hands were working on the zip of my sundress, and at one point between a kiss and some shy laughs he took the dress off of me, and his jaw dropped because - I didn't mention earlier but- the set of underwear that I was wearing was his favorite

"you did it on purpose didn't you?" she asks eating the last grape of her little bowl

"I mean, it was just a pure coincidence -you get up grabbing another bowl of grapes- I promise I wasn't planning on fucking my ex!"

I asked 

"Is this fine with you?"

He gave me a nod, grabbed me between his arms again, and walked towards his room, leaving our clothes behind, he laid me on his bed and the vanilla scent of his room made my brain short-circuit, or maybe my brain stop working because he was kissing my inner thigh and he knew what he was doing because receiving oral is my favorite thing ever, he started to...doing his job down there -he didn't even bother to take off the thong, he just put it to the side- and...he gave me one of the best orgasms of my life...maybe because of the built-up or I don't know maybe because it was him doing it...after that I kissed him. 

"you kissed him after he ate you out?"  she asks 

"yeah? you don't do this kinda thing with Changbin?" you grab one of the grapes and put it in your mouth 

"We never tried..."

"gurl you're pregnant" you point out

"I mean that we never asked each other if we're into kissing each other after heads...and don't try changing the topic...keep going"

he kissed me and for a moment I thought that was it, because he was laying with his head on my boobs, and my hand was between his curls and it felt so normal that I wanted to slap myself. At some point, I felt guilty because I knew that he was still hard...I was feeling it against my thighs so I said 

"you're gonna get blue balls, let me help you"

I had the nerve to giggle, and we started to fight about his thing, I ended up being on top of him...he was still wearing his jeans, and he was so hard that I bet that it was hurting him so I took off his pants, and i-am...fucked him, slowly, like painfully, I felt out of shape, it felt like our first time...he sat up while he was still on me, took off my bra -that I was still wearing- and started to kiss my breasts, he was so gentle that I don't know, I had the feeling that he was scared to hurt me, he made us turn and he was on top, he sped up and asked.

"Are you still on the pill?" I nodded and he said

"use your words, baby, please I need to hear you say them"

"yes, I'm still...on the pill...you can...you can cum in me"  he lost it, he started to thrust harder and at the end we both came but he came into me

"you're telling me that he-"

"yes"

"and that you-"

"yes"

"He has a breeding kink?" she asks 

"I said yes Mimi"

"wow, I didn't expect this" she says 

"yeah, I fucked up pretty well because after what we did I fell asleep in his arms, and we were naked, the morning after...we took a shower together and made breakfast for the both of us"

"WOW"

"Yeah..." you say

"Mimi..." 

"AAAAH! CHAN WHAT THE FUCK YOU SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME, YOU CAN'T SCARE A PREGNANT WOMAN, OH MY GOD I'M THROWING UP ALL THE GRAPES THAT I ATE"

you start to laugh 

"I'm sorry -he gently rubs her belly- didn't want to scare my little niece"

"what do you want?" she asks

"her -he points at you- I wanna dance with her"

"ah take her, she's boring" she moves her hands 

"Mimi, what the fuck?" she giggles and waves at you as he grabs your hands to guide you to the center of the room where other people are dancing 

"what are you doing?" you ask as he pulls you against him to dance slowly

"I just wanted to...dance with you" he says putting his hand on the small of your back, maybe a little lower

"you wanted to dance with me? or...-you lower your voice- you wanted help with the thing between your legs?"

"well- i- you- i wanted- you..." he says blushing, even his ears getting pink

"you wanted help?" he nods shily 

"care to explain why you're hard?" you whisper to his red ear 

"your fault"

"my fault?"

"you have fucking thigh highs, heels, a skirt, and a shirt meatball, that's a combo killer to me and you know it" you laugh

"combo killer?" you ask 

"I'm dying right here" he put his head on your shoulder, his breath against your neck 

"ask it, Christopher, use your words"

"Can you help me? please" he says against your neck

"you're so desperate that you're begging?" he nods

"a quickie it's fine to you?" you ask 

"fuck yes, but the high thighs and the heels stay on" he says grabbing your hand 

"Is there a place where we can have some private time?" he asks 

"Upstairs, just don't make it obvious" you say

"Okay" he says, he quickly lifts you on his shoulder and walks upstairs

"I said don't make it obvious" you laugh 

"It wasn't that obvious"

"no?" you say 

"then why did Mimi drop her grapes?"

"maybe our niece kicked her guts" he says putting you down, pushing against the closet door 

"our?" you echo

"our niece, yeah. there's no way I'm letting you go after this and after last time" he says, his forehead against yours

"Chris?"

"yeah?"

"less talking" you kiss him

"yes ma'am" he says pushing you inside the closet

"we said a quickie, no more than 20 minutes"

"I think that I'll fuck you into the new year"

"what do you mean?" you ask

"3...2...1...happy new year meatball" he kisses your lips 

"Happy New Year pretty boy" you kiss him back 

[ilguna]

☼ lightning strikes twice (Haymitch Abernathy) ☼

summary; rumor had it, after haymitch won, district twelve was cursed to never have another victor. no one expected you to come out of the arena swinging at anything that moved, including haymitch.

warnings; swearing, alcoholism, weapon, vomit, death and torture mention.

wc; 3k

notes; HEAVY sotr spoilers!! late-twenties haymitch.

--

You slam your fist onto the wooden door a couple of times, taking out your anger as you do so. You’ve already been outside of Haymitch’s door for ten minutes, and your patience is beginning to run thin. If he doesn’t answer, you’re going to help yourself to his home, since the door is probably unlocked, anyway.

You take a step back, crossing your arms over your chest, grinding your teeth. Out of habit, you turn your body halfway to look behind you, as if there will be any prying eyes, but it’s just the two of you that live in Victor’s Village. Besides your family, of course. Still, they’re not in the neighborhood right now.

You stomp your foot in frustration. “Haymitch!”

This is typical of him, you can’t even say you’re surprised. All he does is make empty promises and never feels like he needs to fall through on them. What’s the point in agreeing to do something together if he’s just going to bail, anyway? If he would’ve been straightforward with you a couple days ago, then you wouldn’t have even bothered.

You thought Haymitch was being serious when he agreed to go to the Justice Building with you. The two of you were drunk, it was one of those rare occasions where he was able to play on your stress and offered you one of his bottles. You spent the evening telling him you were tired of being the worst district in Panem.

You told him you want to spend your victor money on a project that would give the children of Twelve a fighting chance. No more Seam children dying every year because they couldn’t pick up a weapon or identify a good berry from a deadly one. If Districts One and Two can train their tributes, then you should be able to, too.

Maybe he thought since you were drunk, it was only a suggestion and you weren’t actually going to go through with it. He told you that as long as you both had your assets on paper, you might be able to get a building permit for one of the factories close to the Hob. There, you could turn it into whatever you want to, as long as you had the permission of the Mayor.

You spent almost an hour at the Justice Building waiting for him to show up. Thankfully, you didn’t go inside to actually talk to the mayor, but you felt stupid regardless. Haymitch genuinely seemed interested in the betterment of District Twelve.

You should’ve known better. 

Haymitch has never been the one to take initiative, even in the Capitol. He’s the lousiest mentor you’ve ever met in your life—and you’ve met quite a few since becoming one, yourself. 

He hardly made an effort to give you advice when you were a tribute, and after the third time of seeking him out, you gave up on him entirely. You’d rather figure out how to win the Games yourself than take some advice from a drunk that couldn’t even speak right half the time. 

It was one of the best ideas you had at the time. You’re sure you would be dead right now if you didn’t take your life into your own hands. Especially with how difficult the arena had been. It seemed like the odds were stacked against you. At every turn you made, you were met with another problem. You didn’t go more than a couple hours without facing death.

When you won, you were proud because you did it on your own. And you fully planned on telling the Capitol that, until you were told Haymitch already took credit for your win. The glory was gone before it’d even reached you.

A part of you hoped Haymitch would get a breath of fresh air from your win and he’d get his act together, at least for a little bit. Except, it never happened. Haymitch continued—continues—to drink himself to death, in and out of the Capitol. You’ve spent the past four years watching him do this, and there doesn’t seem to be a want or need to change. 

The most irritating part is that the Capitol has begun to see you two as the same person because of this. You’re the only two victors of Twelve and there hasn’t been a change as far as they can see. And since you won eight years apart, you’re in the same generation of victors as he is. 

You can’t escape him.

Fed up, you grab at the doorknob, twisting it and throwing the door open. The sunlight slowly brings life to the darkness that is Haymitch’s house. You take a step inside, going to cover your nose before you’re assaulted by the smell he’s managed to create. 

You wander in, not bothering to shut the front door, because this house could use some fresh air. You stop in the living room, staring down at the couch, where an unconscious Haymitch lies. There’s a knife in one hand he has laying on his chest. The other loosely grasps a bottle that’s an inch from slipping from his fingers to the floor. 

He looks peaceful, as if the nightmares can’t reach him. You know the truth, though, it’s the same one you live. The arena will always haunt you, no matter where you are and what you try to do to get rid of it. The decisions you made will follow you to the grave.

If Haymitch only drank to sleep, you think he’d be more bearable, but that isn’t the case. Instead, he’s decided to ruin his life and his physique by deciding to become an alcoholic so young. You remember what Haymitch looked like when he won, you’re only six years younger than he is.

You saw him for the first time during the reaping, two years before you were eligible for the bowl, yourself. And you think the first thought that passed through your mind was, “He’s cute.” Haymitch would have an advantage in the Capitol if he wanted, because it wouldn’t be the first time tributes have played at their appearances.

He didn’t, of course. Haymitch had a different strategy.

Either way, he’s ruined himself. As soon as he started drinking, he let himself go at the same time. There’s a smell of vomit and alcohol that clings to him, so he’s repulsive to be around. Usually, after a visit with Haymitch, you find yourself in the shower trying to wash away the smell before you fall victim to it, too.

You shake your head at Haymitch, reaching to grab the pillow at his feet. “You lazy piece of shit.”

You throw the cushion at his face. As soon as it makes contact, he comes to life, swinging the knife in his hand. “Who’s there!”

“Who do you think?” You snap back. “You know, you might be able to blow off the escort, but I’m not Capitol hospitality.”

The pillow falls to the floor, eyes landing on you, narrowing. He lowers his knife, going back to laying down on the couch. “Get out of my house.”

“Do you really expect to get a single winner if we don’t try?” You ask him.

“Not this nonsense again.” He sighs, rolling his eyes as he lifts the bottle of liquor to his lips.

“You’re almost thirty, for fuck’s sake. Look at you.” You lean over the couch, snatching the bottle from his hand. When you hold it up to the light, you’re able to see it’s almost gone. “This is filthy.” You tell him, showing him the grease stains on the glass.

“Give me that.” He swipes at you, you step away.

“Get up and get it then.” You say, walking to the dining room table to set it down. “I thought you were actually serious the other night when you sad you were sick of watching Seam kids die.”

“I am!” He shouts, aggravated.

He sits up on the couch, swaying from side to side. The motion must make him sick, because he steadies himself by placing a hand on his forehead. 

“Really? Then where were you this afternoon?” You ask, turning to look back at him. Your eyes observe the floor, which has seen better days. It’s sticky in random places, from liquor or vomit. And there’s glass everywhere. Is that a pair of underwear?

Haymitch motions to the couch, getting to his feet. “Here.”

“We agreed to meet at the Justice Building.” You cross your arms. He really looks awful, but that’s nothing new. You were really hoping you’d be able to help him clean up his act to show him you can crawl yourselves out of this pit. “We were supposed to get a permit, remember?”

“They’d never agree to that.” He makes a face. “I told you that.”

“How do you know?”

“Coriolanus Snow doesn’t want us manufacturing victors like they do in the Career districts. It’s a statement of fact.” He waves his hand.

Here he goes again, babbling on about nonsense. You went in circles about this for a while before you thought you convinced him otherwise. All he kept saying was that District Twelve is cursed. Every tribute that comes out alive will have something happen to them, sooner or later.

“He doesn’t care that much.” You dismiss him.

“He doesn’t when it comes to Twelve.”

“Yeah? How do you know?” You ask, getting a sense of deja vu. 

Maybe it has something to do with how you went down this path the other day, trying to corner him into giving you some answers, even if they’re bullshit. He started to dodge the questions when it became convenient.

Which he seems to do now when he mumbles something under his breath, coming toward you. His eyes are set on the bottle of alcohol between your fingers.

“What was that?” You tilt your head.

You wait for him to reach for the bottle before you push it out of the way. He looks at you, you stare back at him with a smile on your face, batting your eyelashes a couple of times.

“Give me my liquor.”

“Answer my question.” You say back. “You seem to know quite a lot when it comes to President Snow and District Twelve. Why don’t you explain yourself?”

He squints his eyes, clearing his throat. “You really wanna know, princess?”

You can feel the heat lick at your face at the sound of the pet name. He knows you hate it, and it’s the fastest way to get you to lose your top. But since he resorts to it so often, you’ve begun to learn how to navigate it. If you lose your patience, you’ll never get the answer you’re looking for.

And he might be drunk enough to actually be truthful this time.

“It’s what I’ve been asking for.” You throw a hand up. 

Haymitch stares at you for a long moment, debating internally. “You weren’t supposed to win.”

You roll your eyes. “Right. No one’s supposed to win.”

“No, (Y/n).” He leans in, you accidentally get a whiff of vomit and unwashed teeth. You try not to gag straight into his face, opting to hold your breath. “I wasn’t even meant to win, not after what happened.”

You push his shoulder back, leaning away. “Enough with the non-specifics, Haymitch. It’s time to tell me what went on.”

He hesitates, sighs, and then his shoulders sink. “We tried to end the Games, permanently. And we failed. It cost lives.”

Your face twists, head tilting as your eyes slide to the ground. What is he talking about? No one can just end the Games, that’s the choice of President Snow. And the Quarter Quell went on as any other Hunger Games did, just twenty-four more tributes than normal. You don’t remember it being any different.

“What are you talking about?”

“I was part of a rebel plan.” Haymitch tells you bluntly, hand held out in your direction. “Now give me the bottle.”

You place it in his. “Keep going.”

“It’s just that.” He says, wandering away now that he’s got what he wants. 

“No, it’s not. What else happened?” You ask.

“We tried to blow up the water tank in the arena. And when that failed, I tried to kill the generator on my own. Snow didn’t like that, so he killed my family and then my girl.”

He plops down onto the couch, sinking.

You follow him. “So why wasn’t I supposed to win?”

“It’s not just a curse, it’s a prophecy.”

“You’re making no sense again.” You tell him, leaning over the back of the couch to see his face. “Come on, Haymitch. I’ve been mentoring for four years. You’ve got to give me something to work with.”

“The girl who first won for District Twelve was fifty-two years ago.” He murmurs, cracking the seal on a new bottle. Did he really finish the other one already? “She was Covey, and she was Coriolanus’s—well, I don’t know.”

“What’s Covey?” You ask. “And you can’t stop there.”

“Traveling musicians.” He answers simply. “From before the Dark Days. I don’t know her name, not for sure anyway. She’s got a grave beyond the fence, it’s hidden with the others.”

You stare at him for a long second. What does her grave have to do with anything?

“What was she to President Snow?” You shake your head.

“His girlfriend, maybe?” He shrugs. “He seemed pretty upset to hear I was dating…” He trails off for a moment, staring at the wall in front of him. “Said they’re all the same. I’d bet they were dating, or almost. I think she broke his heart, and that started some vendetta against us.”

“Who cares?” You ask. “Why would he take it out on you?”

Haymitch slaps his hand against  his leg, turning to look at you with an angry expression. “Are you even listening? I tried to ruin his Games! Just like how she’d tried to ruin his life. You—you weren’t supposed to win. I was told-so. You were supposed to die ten different times over.”

He throws his hand up again. “The only reason why you lived was from pure luck and he let you. He could’ve killed you straight-off if he wanted to, like he did with all the others before you. He told me  we’d never get another victor. I would be the last. Now look, I’ve got you to babysit to make sure you keep in line.”

“What a great job you’re doing.” You roll your eyes.

“You don’t get it.” He shakes his head. “He’d kill your entire family like he did with mine if you even got close to upsetting him. Why do you think you’re on such a tight leash all the time?”

You purse your lips, thinking about Haymitch in the Capitol. You thought it was weird the first year you mentored, because he had a hand on you the entire time to pull you along. When you returned the second year, he was more relaxed, but you still weren’t allowed out of his sight.

It’s been that way for the past two years, you just got used to it. You always thought he wanted you to follow so you could keep an eye on him to make sure he didn’t get in trouble. You didn’t really think of it any other way. You should’ve though, it should’ve been pretty telling when you weren’t allowed to talk to those who live in the Capitol. 

“You couldn’t have told me all of this sooner?” You ask.

“Once you know, it’s impossible to forget.” He tells you. “You won’t act the same way, won’t look at people the same way.”

“It makes me look at you differently.” You tell him, coming around the couch to stand next to the tv. “You look like a coward from the outside.”

“I know.”

“And I don’t even know if you’re telling the truth. I watched the Quarter Quell happen. It never—”

He cuts you off. “The footage is all messed up. Half of those things that happened were put on different days. Those squirrels never attacked me, they killed Beetee’s son. That’s just one example for you.”

Your eyebrows raise. You know Beetee, pretty well, actually. You talk to him every time you’re in the Capitol. He’s like a breath of fresh air when it comes to intelligent conversations. Sometimes you wish you’d been born there, instead. You’ve always wanted to be able to create something with your own hands.

“Beetee’s son?” You repeat. “He doesn’t have one.”

“Not anymore.”  Haymitch takes a swig of the bottle. “His name was Ampert. He was twelve. And it was Snow’s way of punishing Beetee for trying to destroy one of the Capitol’s systems. Bet you didn’t know he had a pregnant wife, either. She’s gone, too.”

Your jaw drops, lips moving but no words coming out. 

“Sit.” Haymitch tells you, patting the couch next to him. “I’ll give you the full story.”

You don’t move. “Why didn’t you say anything to me? I’ve been thinking you’re some lazy ass who doesn’t care about the tributes.”

“It doesn’t change the position we’re in.” He says, eyes falling. “Doesn’t change the lifetime of torture.”

“No, it doesn’t. But it does give me a better perspective on how to approach things.”

“You’re missing the point. You’re going to be the last victor.”

“Who says?” You ask, shaking your head. “Who says we won’t have another ten years from now? Who says we won’t get two back-to-back.”

Haymitch sighs. “It’ll be over Snow’s dead body.”

“Sounds like a pretty good deal to me.” You tell him, finally sitting on the couch. “Let him throw what he has at us. It’ll take time, but we can do it.”

Haymitch closes his eyes. “If you really want to try.”

“I do.” You reach to grab his hand, squeezing. His eyes pop open in surprise. “And I want you to help me.”

[moralisist]

thinking about how gojo would speak so much life into you, as if what he’s telling you is gonna happen, has already happened.

feeling emotional about this project at work that’s due in a couple days and it’s so long and you’ve barely started it? satoru will tell you “i don’t know why you’re stressing so much. you’re going to do it and you’re going to do it well. everytime this happens, your finishing project has the bosses applauding you everytime. be more confident baby.” he said things to you like that as if it was easier than breathing.

gojo has always been so confident about you, since the beginning. he trusts you and your ability to be able to do things you need to accomplish. gojo believes you’re his pride and joy. that’s why it’s so easy for him to tell you “you can.”

sometimes it bothers you how he thinks that he can just think you can do it all, there’s no reality in that. you do fail and sometimes you don’t get back up. you don’t do good at something and that’s just the way it is. but gojo never sees it that way for you because he sees you as something great and that more will come your way, regardless of what didn’t succeed.

on a busy and stressful day of work, he’ll send flowers with a note saying “i’m proud of you sweets, don’t work too hard. yours- satoru”

gojo thinks loving and believing in what he knows you can become was the easiest part of loving you.

[sinnabarmoth]

The LaDS Men as Uni Students

Zayne: Pre-med and stressed 24/7. Never not working. Head always in a book. Mutters quietly to himself keeping everything memorized. Super skinny, tall guy that only eats like twice a day and runs primarily on coffee. Anyone who makes noise in the silent section of the library is subject to his death glare. Takes long walks around campus to relax and get fresh air after studying, does not matter the weather. MC is a campus barista that thinks he's cute and leaves encouraging notes and reminders on his coffee cup. 'Good luck on your exam! You got this!' Or 'Don't forget to get something to eat later.' Eventually writes her number on the cup with a little note, 'In case you need a friend' He is about to throw it away but decides to keep the number in his phone just in case of emergencies. He doesn't know what emergency will require calling his barista but you never know.

Xavier: English major. Was undecided but then his advisor told him he could do a lot with an English degree so he went with that. Got a full scholarship through fencing. Sleepy all the time. Everyone expected him to be a jock brain but he does exceedingly well in class too. He is always in class but he always looks asleep so people have no idea how he is acing everything. Works part time at the university library. His dorm is FULL of snacks. Illegal hotplate that's caused the fire alarm to go off at least once a month. Constantly taking food out of the cafeteria. Met MC when he scared off a creepy guy harassing her at the gym. Became gym buddies and eventually study partners. Friends to lovers but they're oblivious to it until Xavier sees her drunkenly kiss another guy at a party. Everything clicks into focus at that and now he is determined to be her boyfriend.

Rafayel: Art major. Loner and yet ridiculously popular because of his raw artistic talent and good looks. Joined swim team for a semester and was super talented there too but thought it was too much time away from his art so dropped it. Forgets to do laundry constantly so by the time his hamper is overflowing he is down to the weirdest clothing combinations. Girls definitely switched majors to be in the same classes as him. Got paired with MC for a class project in a GenEd class they have together. He's been quietly crushing HARD on her since the start of the semester. She isn't obsessed with him which is refreshing but at the same time he wants her to be as obsessed with him as he is her. Start dating eventually but because he has such a big fan base they keep it quiet so she doesn't get harassed.

Sylus: Business management major. Rich kid. Star baseball player. Has a luxury apartment off campus. Takes most classes online. Often found lurking at parties but stays off in a corner no one notices him in despite being so tall. More like a cryptid than a student since he's only talked about in passing and sightings of him on campus during the day are rare. Can only be found in daylight during practice and games. Took an elective piano class that MC was also taking. He liked her taste in music and listening to her make up songs. Asked her on a date but she rejected him at first cause she wanted to focus on school. Threw a party at his apartment just to invite her. Started talking and went so well they actually left the party in full swing so they could take a walk in private. After they started dating she came to all his games and he'd give her one of his clean jerseys to wear. Rides to class on his motorcycle, doesn't matter what time, even if it is 8AM he is taking his girl and picking her up.

[malenjoyer]

tim used to be my fav robin a long time ago but I've started to understand why so many ppl don't like him

he was an okay character in the 90s/2000s but now with all of the other characters that have been added to the batfam he just brings so little to the table. he pales in comparison and has just become white guy with blue eyes number 738393. everything that stood out about him can be found in other characters, in the other robins, but better (big brother-little brother with dick&damian, solo robin adventures with damian, detective robin with maps, timsteph with daminika, family outside of the bats with damian or maps, etc).

it's so bad that in adaptations he's the most likely to be omitted (and can we blame dc?). steph is omitted as a robin more than him but in her case it's misogyny; what's tim's excuse?

he contributed to some important aspects of modern robin but those aspects are far better utilized by other robins. and I think steph is better off as a cass cain cast character bc, although dc is misogynistic and racist, cass has far better longevity than tim as a character and I think she has so many great things to achieve. so steph becoming part of her cast is a far better option for her popularity + perhaps steph could have her own solo stuff in the future bc she also is more interesting than tim. steph even has her own hero alias as spoiler which is already far more than tim has done post-robin. I frankly can't blame dc for not knowing what to do with him bc there's not much to work with and he doesn't stand on his own as a character

I actually had a lot of difficulty liking Tim or getting started on Tim at first because of this but the Old Media Lover brain took over. I think, yeah, it’s super doomy to think about the future of Tim drake and I have pondered what could be done about him and whether they’ll let him move on.

I really do think the power of being a fan is being able to take the character you loved before and simply create a universe for them where they have that future that you want for them. My friend and I have discussed a potential future for Tim that we really like and it honestly involves an aspect that other people probably won’t like- leaving gotham and leaving the “batfamily”. It’s one of my secret projects.

I guess once you realize that you don’t have to wait for DC to give your favorite character a better ending, you can just write it or draw it, it’s easy to stay a lot more optimistic.

Because when you say this for Tim drake, it’s hard to not say the same thing for Batman- the incapability to move on. For Batman, it’s part of the charm, but you realize gotham will never heal, Batman will never heal, or else the story will change. That’s the consequences of being a story that must go on. Once you think about that, it all gets very depressing because you realize eventually characters have to regress or stagnate because they are a product.

My point is, as a fan even though these are valid criticisms, I don’t believe you have to lose interest in characters if you truly don’t want to. A company doesn’t have control over your imagination. You can fix him. You can give him what he needs. It’s easy to get swept up by the negativity of being a comic fan especially with other people saying the same points and agreeing with you but you are put on this earth to be happy and enjoy life. So you can give him a new path if you want

[ellesthots]

hey!! reminder that this person is very scary and a complete stranger to me. it’s become very, very obsessive and creepy. the entire page from this spammer has gone farther than i ever thought it would — my partner sent me this post as I’ve had this impersonator blocked and reported since the first post they made a few days ago.

it is deeply disheartening and jarring to have an anonymous stranger publicly claim a ‘long-standing friendship’ and spin a fleshed-out narrative that simply… doesn’t exist, not even a single crumb. they are only seeking to intimidate opposing voices.

let it be known that these spammers and accounts were not created nor an issue until i responded to a beloved reader about how disheartening it was that they fed my work to AI. this has obviously gotten to the AI fanatics, and pissed them off enough that they’re going to extreme lengths to discredit and harass me. long-time readers know i have been anti-AI, and this is a disturbing trend I’ve started to see where if you stand against AI, particularly in creative spaces, these people then point fingers and act as though we ‘must’ be utilizing AI in some capacity, and are seeking to ‘cover our tracks’. it’s intentional, and an effort to make creatives scared to speak out, lest someone else get an ‘ellesthot’ harasser like I am.

what is also disheartening on a personal level is that as someone who has long-COVID, i have been unable to go to movies, brunches, and generally exist in public outside of school (and one trip to a cute bookstore with my partner!) for many years now. i’ve also been very vocal about this for months and months on multiple platforms. to see a stranger pointing fingers against my values and repeatedly lying on my name, hobbies/art/work, experiences, and abilities, is downright cruel.

and just… I have to laugh for a sec at the lengths they keep going to. texting for engagement?? reblogs and asks?? forcing to repost anti-AI?? harassing fic authors?? close friend ?? i’m— 🫠

all in all, this is deeply disturbing behavior and i hope they are able to get the support they need and stop harassing a stranger for it. it is evident they would like attention, and want their devotion to AI to become culturally sanctioned so they don’t need to feel insecure and project that on people actually creating and investing in art. AI has never and will never play a part in my creative process, and I’ve more than made that clear.

do not be afraid to stand up to AI in fandom spaces because of these bullies. they are pathetic, and take things to such extreme lengths as this to try and coerce silence. there will likely be many more posts from this anon account and others they make ‘disputing’ this post of mine (or maybe since i mentioned it now, they’ll go quiet or make a ‘goodbye’ post), following the typical ragebait troller handbook. try to bully—that didn’t work!—then try to be genuine, and whip up whatever fantasy lore helps them get a semblance of temporary credibility.

all because they saw a post of a stranger, me, not liking AI in fandom/artistic/creative spaces.

since they try to talk about being such a friend of mine, and how they are soo in support of me, i have attached some of their comments from a few days ago when this stranger created the account and began harassing me.

the first row is their long post I am responding to here, and the second is only a few of their initial comments a couple days ago. i have no concept of what lengths they will go to next, but I hope they are able to realize they are wasting their time, and should instead focus on developing their own hobbies and community.

appreciate all the supportive comments and messages I’ve been receiving from you all. we will weather this AI-fanatic storm, and keep having fun here in our little corner of the internet. feeling like Bruce Wayne rn, apparently I have my own Rogue’s Gallery/Joker 💀

hope everyone is well! i am so sorry this has been taking up all of our energy on this site. we will be back to regularly-scheduled programming in no time <3

(also: the only person i know IRL on this site (or any of them) is @noisylime. love u !!)

[bottomkeplerweek]

Pretty sure this AMA awakened something in me when I first saw it

Important to note that that last clip comes right after a very long and serious answer about the lack of LGBT representation in the show which I think makes it funnier

[transcript under the cut]

Zach Valenti: Kepler, Zach Libresco, at the beginning of season three, it sort of appeared-- so this is the person who's asking the question-- it appeared to me, at least to me, to be very close to Maxwell and Jacobi, but towards the end of the season, it seemed like their closeness was more out of fear than loyalty. In your opinion, is this an accurate description of their relationship? Does Kepler actually care about Jacobi and Maxwell? Or are they just people he works with?

Zach Libresco: I got a lot of that information from the mini episodes and how people are recruited and what they're interested in, why they're on the project, so for our recently departed Maxwell, I think what brings her onto the project-- what gets me to get her onto the project-- is like the scientific advancement; the possibility of the resources at hand to make that kind of advancement and to have the license to do it when other people are saying 'you can't do it'. So what's enticing-- how I serve her, is being the person who says 'here, play with these toys. These are your resources. I trust your ethics. I trust you to do the job; I'm just gonna let you go and do it. So, there's affection, but it's more like I have the keys, and she makes the rocket go-go. For Jacobi, there's more of a... I think we... there's a lot more about the history of how much I ride him. I don't know if it's a... There's definitely a longer history between them, and more of 'I'm near an explosive, you're near an explosive, what's the right thing to do in this situation?' They've been through the worst together, in a different connecting way than Maxwell and Kepler have. Would you guys have thoughts on that as well?

Noah Masur: Yeah I think Jacobi has been Kepler's first mate for a while, even if they're not mates.

Zach Libresco: And he rose to that point, he did not start there.

[NEXT CLIP]

Zach Valenti: It sounds like they have, and will immortalize 'Kepler riding Jacobi hard'. Phrasing. Phrasing, Libresco.

Zach Libresco: Kepcobi!

[NEXT CLIP]

Noah Masur: All I know is... Kepler's been riding Jacobi hard for years.

Zach Libresco: And we're not saying that's canon, but we're not saying it's not canon.

Gabriel Urbina: Well said. Well said.

Zach Libresco: Great joke, Noah.

Noah Masur: What joke?

[zirasposts]

Love the aus where SY gets yeeted back To his old body. But the absolute Best shit is when he doesent just end up moping around In his apartment waiting for binghe.

Aka he has been sqq for so long now that the straight backed schoolary act isint an act anymore thouse are his manerisims now too.

I can see his family begin so confused (if its like no time passed between him getting yeeted In and back from pidw)

When one of his siblings thinks "oh i havent heard anything from Yuan i should propably call and make sure his eating." and when they do they find out hes back In gollege and trying to become a teacher? Hes already tuutoring people? He joined a music club and now aperently plays qupin? Like you dont hear from a guy In a bit and out of nowhere he got his life together.

SY does not have his life together hes just glinging on to what is familiar to keep himself going.

The first time one of his family memebers sees him they have To take a double take because Yuan can actually stand straight, and he got his unreachble imortal Air still intact.

He thinks he doesent have To worry about acting like something he isint anymore but wrong hes been sqq longer than he was SY.

Clear water surface reflects growth

He reads pidw again at some point along with also reading the comments he left when he read it for the first time. He gringes many times especially when reading about wanting sqq to get castrated or suffer More than becoming a pickle.

He leaves one final comment after re read

Airplane if youre still alive you better dm me or ill make you wish that our little gardening project was still on going

This sparked huge speculation on the fandom about what is going on between cuucumber and airplane.

Of course binghe comes for him eventualy, hes been very lonely and- wait, no... Thats not his binghe.

[moonlume]

This was mostly for Instagram as I've always felt much more comfortable on Tumblr, whether I'm on or off-topic, but I figured it's good to post it here too just as an update on what's been going on with me! I'm slowly getting back on track with things, I'll do more varied posting here too now I think :')

Plain text version under the read more:

Hi! Long time no see! Apologies for the sudden radio silence. I needed a long overdue break from social media. The truth is that I've been struggling with severe burnout for the last couple of years now. Between failed projects, changes in social media, and health issues, I've sadly developed a really negative and unhealthy outlook towards myself and my work, and I got really stuck in that mindset for a long time. Recently I heard a quote that was very fitting for what's been going on with me: "Don't start cleaning until you understand the mess." That is what I've been trying to do! I've been thinking and overthinking how I want to move forward with Moonlume, trying to understand those negative feelings and where they come from, and maybe, just maybe, I've found a path that I'm comfortable with. I'd like to delve into some of these topics with you, so read on if you're curious! Changes are coming!

SOCIAL MEDIA

I've been "in a relationship" with social media since I was about 15. I used to love it. I'm 30 now, and I've been trying to understand what made me so negative about it nowadays; not the parts I can't control, (algorithms, scams, AI, ads...) but my own presence and interaction with it. In hindsight, I should have realised what the main problem was sooner... When I was younger, the blogs I remember having a fun time running used to mostly be about what other people have made, and the things I enjoyed. I've been a small biz girlie since I was 16 (I used to run @FrozenCrafts before this! :D) but I've never liked being in a position where I only share my own work and nothing else. It's too much spotlight for me, too much pressure, especially with social media requiring consistency nowadays. I've always been an anxious, introverted person, and I now realise that this spotlight has been eating away at me. (Which is odd to say as someone who runs a small biz, I know.) I started getting even more anxious when, due to multiple reasons (more on that later) my output of new art really dropped off. Even though I've been working on Moonlume this whole time in the quiet background, I had very few new things to show for it. I couldn't help but compare myself to artists I really respect and look up to, who make new things every month, every week, and yes of course comparing yourself to others is a recipe for disaster, but... we all do it to some extent.

(And I definitely went overboard. At my lowest, I voiced some really awful things about both myself and my work...) Over time, the anxiety and frustration with myself got so bad that I couldn't stomach doing anything creative for a while, and eventually, I stopped all social media activity entirely. People say that burnout catches up to you and what do you know - the people are right... So... What's the solution here? Again, in hindsight, this should have dawned on me sooner. I've put myself in a cage just because "well that's how I've seen other people do it". And I'm sure many people will agree with the idea that a shop/smallbiz/brand account should just be about the brand! I totally get it! But I've realised that's not for me. From this day forward, I'd like to work towards making the Moonlume social media spaces be about everything cute, colourful and fun. I'd like to create an environment where it's not just about "Moonlume the art and products", but a place for everything that has inspired me, a place where I can share my favourite video games and artists with you, a place that isn't just a spotlight for me, but a spotlight for everything and everyone that made me fall in love with the cute and colourful aesthetics of this world. And I'd like to try and just have fun with social media again! It's been so long since I've been genuinely excited about making posts, yet here I am thinking "ohh I should take cute colourful layout pictures of my old 3DS and ask people if they're still using theirs!!". It is so relieving to feel excited again. Even typing this out feels like a rock being lifted from my heart.

And don't worry - the heart and soul of Moonlume is not going away. The colour explosion you see on my profile? That won't be changing! That is the vibe I'm going to keep here. Just with more variety, and less pressure on myself :)

HEALTH ISSUES

I mentioned that there are multiple reasons why I've become incredibly slow at releasing new designs. One of those is that I'm genuinely swamped with work all the time - running Moonlume is 95% emails, admin, customer service, etc. (I've been stuck in a "too much work for one person, not enough work + income for two people" stage for a long time now and I'm still trying to figure that one out.) I may not have much new creative work to show for it, but I DO have quite a few announcements to make soon! Opportunities for art I've already made kept coming up, so I've been prioritising those. The main reason, however... My joints. Ohh, my fail joints... For the last 3-4 years my wrist has been declining, or at least I thought it's just my wrist - it may be all my joints. Getting any answers from doctors as a "totally healthy" 30 year old has been frustrating - I still don't know what's wrong, scans have been booked and then lost, "oh just do stretches", "just wear a brace", "just need to rest". I listened to their generic advice at first, but considering that my hand was in pain almost all day yesterday, without me doing anything, I don't think rest is gonna save me here :/ All I can do is continue bugging them until they give me some answers. Until then... I have to work around my joints screaming at me. All this hit me really hard, because over the last couple of years, I've been trying to accept that I will no longer be able to draw the way I used to. Which sucks. I learned to do something I'm happy with and now I can't do it anymore. The work I used to make is just too detailed for me to tackle now - every set of designs would take about 4-5 days of intense drawing, and, apparently, I've also been holding the pen wrong since childhood which put extra strain on my wrist?? I've tried to unlearn this and couldn't... Holding a pen any other way is alien to me lol. But yep, that checks out - sometimes even writing grocery lists gets painful towards the end of the list, which takes like 5min. Or, sometimes, lifting a mug "wrong" sends lightning through my whole hand. So... How can I move forward with this? I doubt my joints are going to get any better, but I still want to continue running Moonlume. Besides using old designs for new products (not very exciting, I know, but people want them and that has helped so much - we are saving up for a family and I'm thankful for any income I can get!), creatively, I think I'd like to start calling myself less of an illustrator, and more of a product/stationery designer? A mouse doesn't strain my hand as much, depending on the day anyway, and I've been able to release at least something new with simple shapes recently - like my “You can never have too many stickers” sticker book! I'm really glad it's been well received, I've just gotten a second batch of these books in, it made me hopeful that there could still be a future for me in the world of stationery if I just change things up. Yes, I will forever be sad that I can no longer tackle the dreamy, detailed designs anymore. I had a lot of sketches and ideas ready to go, I had goals and skills I wanted to reach for... But I've been grieving this for way too long now and I want to learn to let go and move on.

FINAL THOUGHTS

So... Yeah. Everything I've just said, that cocktail of emotions and problems, it was really affecting my mental health over the last few years. I've been stuck in an endless cycle of disappointment in myself. The shame over not doing enough, not making new things fast enough, or as interesting/meaningful as other people, on top of struggling to let go of past failures and getting frustrated with joint problems... all that made me develop some really messy feelings towards both myself and my work. There were points where I was fantasising about burning it all down just to have a fresh start. It was bad :( BUT! With a clearer head and armed with perspective from people I love, I can say this: I AM proud of what I've made so far! I no longer look at my work and loathe it like I did for a while. Looking back, damn, that was a super unhealthy perspective and I'm glad I can recognise it now. And even though, thanks to my fail joints, I'm no longer able to make things the way I used to... I'm learning to accept this and I'm looking forward to the future. I'm excited to talk more about things I love, excited to make the Moonlume social media space be more varied and give it a breath of fresh air! Posting about my work/products all the time also left very little room for discussion and chatting with you guys, and I miss the feeling of community, so I'm excited to make this a livelier space! That doesn't mean that the art part of Moonlume is going anywhere - it's still my beloved little shop, and I'll still be making things for (hopefully!!) many years to come, just at a slower, much more comfortable and sustainable pace. ♥

Thank you so much for reading this and hearing me out. The support I've received from everyone here over the last 8 years has been genuinely invaluable - my head spins daily from the thought that my little creations have had the chance to travel the whole world thanks to you... It's truly magical. I hope that with this new chapter I can reconnect with the community once more, and move on to a brighter future! Love you all! ♥

Maple

[likelyamused]

Beginning / Previous / Next

Transcript under the cut

Alejandro: Cat? I- I wasn’t ready for this.

Catalina: She told you?

Alejandro: She said the boy she was seeing didn’t like her back like she thought he did. 

Catalina: Yeah… There’s quite a lot more to it than that… but it’s a start.

Alejandro: I figured. Everyone’s walking on eggshells around her. We talked about other things, about our family. She said something about us and I need to know what you think.­ 

Alejandro: Do you feel like I don’t value your career?

Catalina: Do you? 

Alejandro: You know I love your music…

Catalina: That’s not the same thing.

Alejandro: I- I think I do.

Catalina: [sigh] Truthfully? Sometimes it feels like you think of it more like a hobby than a career. I’ve been arranging my contracts around our family’s needs since the kids were born. I suppose I am only working part-time…

Alejandro: Is… is this about what you said earlier? I made decisions about my own career that impacted our family, and you compensated by sacrificing your own? 

Catalina: Pretty much. You had your career with unstable hours and long shifts that brought financial stability to our family. I made sure the kids had another kind of stability at home. 

Alejandro: Have you been pushing away opportunities because of me?

Catalina’s eyes tear up. Alejandro grabs her hands and braces for her answer.

Catalina: A few…

Alejandro: I’m so sorry. I never stopped to think about how all of this affected you. I never realized what message it was sending to you, to our kids… I love you so much, and I want you to have the career you want. I- How…? I’m sorry.

Catalina: You got all that from our daughter? 

Alejandro: We talked about school…

/

Celia: I’ve been having a hard time finding inspiration. I just don’t enjoy it anymore. 

Alejandro: Why don’t you take a break?

Celia: Because I have a portfolio and an application to finish. I have to get in. Besides, aren’t you the one pushing me not to take any breaks until I excel in math?

Alejandro: I might have taken things a little too far… Why do you want to get into that school so much?

Celia: It’s the best in the province. They have a really good placement rate for their graduates.

Alejandro: You’re worried about finding a job after school? I didn’t know you had given it any thought…

Celia: Of course, I think about it. Did you think I just go about hoping to live off of unicorns and rainbows? 

Alejandro: Hmmpf! Okay, I see that I upset you…

Celia: Can I be honest with you?

Alejandro: Huh… yeah, you can.

Celia: I don’t want you to get mad.

Alejandro: I won’t. I promise.

Celia: I see mom put her projects on hold all the time for us. It seems unfair. Part of me wants to prove to you our career choice has value. 

/

Catalina: Dear God…

Alejandro: Yeah...

[papikyoo]

i've been messing with rpg maker lately. Finally, the project has the clear vision. I intend to make a game with my gf about these funny little guys. Can't tell you much except that it's set in some sort of Roaring '20s inspired urban fantasy world. However, we still have a ridiculously long way to go so I will just keep updating until it actually grows into something. lol

[mintmatcha]

It's a week later when Obsidian is standing at the edge of the estate, watching the moon rise in the nightsky.

"She's not coming." Ruby tosses his bad into the back of the wagon. "The caravan needs to leave. Boss man is getting impatient."

"Five more-"

"No more minutes, dude." In a surprising act, Ruby places his hand on his friend's shoulder. It lasts for only a second, but the feeling lingers. "This girl isn't coming. She's going to stay in her little golden tower for the rest of her life."

Obsidian had told you the time they were leaving tonight and told you where they would be if you wanted to be free. You hadn't said anything, but he swore he saw excitement in your eyes.

"I really thought..." The only thing he had seen was his own projections. "You're right, Ruby. Let's go."

They both load up on the back of the wagon. It creaks and groans as the horses start to march forward.

"She'd be useless anyway. Just some rich girl on the road, hoping we'd take care of her. I doubt she even has proper shoes," Ruby says. "Honestly, it takes real spirit to be an adventurer. Someone as beaten down as that could... n..."

Ruby cocks his head so hard that his horns strike the wooden beam beside him, but he doesn't flinch. No, his eyes are focused in the distance, from where they came.

"Holy fuckin' shit."

Obsidian swivels and sure enough, you're a dot in the distance, running as fast as your legs will carry you. as you get closer, he can make out that you're shoeless, in just a silken nightgown, your hair unbranded and wild as you sprint. There's a backpack slung over your shoulder, threatening to knock you over with every stride.

It's a grueling distance to run, but Obsidian nearly cries when he sees you smiling, ear to ear, like this is the best moment of your life.

"I told you she didn't have fucking shoes," Ruby laughs. "Run, kid, run!"

Against all odds, you manage to make it close enough. Obsidian leans out of the back of the wagon and reaches for you, grabbing you by the forearm. He hoists you off of your feet and into the back. For a moment. your faces are nearly pressed against each other's, both of you panting wildly for the sheer adrenaline.

"I knew you'd come," Obi laughs. He's not sure why his chest feels so tight. "I knew it."

"I--" You're breathing so hard that there's spittle ok your lips, but Obi thinks you may still be the most beautiful woman he's ever seen. This may be the most alive he's ever been-- the most alive anyone's ever been. There's just an unknowable something about you that makes his hands shake, his heart race--

"You're fucking crazy!" Ruby smacks your back to help you cough.

"And-" You're heaving each word. "And you're a whole lot richer."

Fumbling in your bag, you pull of a purple velvet drawstring bag, stuffed to the brim.

"That's gotta be a hundred gold."

"No," you're still hunched over yourself. "It's-- a hundred platinum."

The men share a wide-eyed look. Neither of them has ever seen a platinum piece in real life.

"Fuck, I'll buy her whatever shoes she wants." Runh throws his hands in the air. "Hundred fucking platinum. I could cum."

"Thank you," you say once you've gathered yourself. sweat has dripped down and made your nightie seen through, but Obsidian doesn't look. Ruby keeps his eyes level with yours as well... for the most part. "Thank you-- I don't even know your name."

You hold out a hand. Obsidian regards it for a long moment; your palms are uncalloused, soft from your life in the estate walls. It almost feels wrong when he slides his own hand within yours and lets his claws touch skin.

"Obsidian Vyke, from the Northern Isles of the Northern Lands," he states.

"Obsidian." Your mouth moves carefully around the word. "Mr. Obsidian Vyke, from the Northern Isles of the Northern Lands.”

"We call him Obi."

That shocks a smile from you. "Obi. That suits you.'

Obsidian had never liked the nickname before, but suddenly, it felt right.

Mint mint mint PLEASE tell me you will one day elaborate on how reader is MARRIED when she gets with Obi. Does he know?? Are human marriages so different from dragonborn marriages that he does not truly see you as married?? Does he ever feel guilt, thinking that he took you away from man who could actually give you children?? Please quell my thoughts before i faint!!

He doesn't feel guilty at all actually!! he HATED your husband long before he had romantic feelings for you (and you weren't so keen on the man either)

I think you left him not to be with Obi, but to escape your husband and explore the world. love just happened along the way

[forsaken-headcanons]

007n7 is autistic because I say so and I like projecting.

He chews on shit to stim, probably a pencil most often than not, but when he's really going through it he chews on the meat of his thumb to soothe himself.

He finds it embarrassing, and tries to mask when out in public, though more recently he's been trying to unmask around C00lkidd and at home. He probably has done a ton of research on how to unmask and has a hidden library of books that he rotates through.

I dont think he'd get overstimulated much, but he instead is understimulated more than anything, probably as a side effect of not understanding his needs since he ignored them for so long.

Also, he probably takes sink showers, and washes his hair in the sink, and uses the water to scrub himself with if he can't deal with the hell that are showers.

(Also, Hi, i'm new.)

-02 Anon

all of this is so real holy moly

we feel like he'd also chew on parts of his shirt if his hands are working on the generators n stuff... maybe the sleeves, if only to make himself finish it (bc we know dang well those gens can be pretty underestimulating if you've done them for so long)

yoinking this hc too if ya don't mind /silly

down as 02 Anon you go!! hope you're feeling welcomed here gang :D