#trying to look at how people do it on tumblr feels so formal in comparison

[bioshockey]

ok. how does one start a rp blog thing

[viablemess]

I researched Polites history / myths so you don't have to

I wrote an overview of what I can find about Polites in the Odyssey, other source material, etc.

I'm hoping this is helpful for folks who are curious, looking for inspiration for fanworks, new and returning Epic fans alike. This was intentionally done very casually so all mistakes are my own. I’m also not a mythology/history/Greek scholar in any capacity, so my sincerest apologies for any catastrophes I committed. Did I copy paste some Google scholar work cited without fixing the errors? Yes. Am I okay with that for a Tumblr post? Absolutely. Lmk if you need help finding any referenced texts :)

To preview what I will be covering—first I’ll go over mentions in the Odyssey and how they vary across translations. Then I’ll get into some other content that folks have written either about the Odyssey / the Greek language in more academic circles, or other works that are less formal (they’ve published and I think they’re fun, and they relatively are similar in content to the Odyssey). Next, I’ll add in some more “out there” published works that are more loosely inspired. Finally, I’ll do a deep dive into two specific concepts that I have seen (werewolves, ghost story, taken from an acadenic article about vampires) which relate to Polites.

Before we get started, a few disclaimers: Polites is a type of butterfly, so there’s that. There is also a Polites called Polites of Troy. He is King Priam and Queen Hecuba’s legitimate son and Hector’s brother. So, there is a Polites who is related to Hector, and is likely one of the “kill the brothers of Hector” that Neo is tasked with in Epic. So, when you’re looking up Polites info, if you’re new to the realms of Greek literature (like me) those are some weeds to dig through. The deity Iris does at one point speak through Polites (Hector’s brother) as a side story.

Now, transitioning to the Odyssey…

So in the Odyssey Polites is briefly mentioned at best; some sources say he is "The dearest friend of Odysseus" others say "the dearest to me of my crew" etc. The translations vary. Also, he lead the group into Circe's palace, and he eventually talked Odysseus into leaving Circe's Island. This would mean that in comparison to Epic, Polites lived longer in the myth figure. So, it is ambiguous when he died based on the Odyssey alone.

That said, Polites feels like an ambiguous person based on the Odyssey as source material. He cares about Odysseus (closest friend) and wants him to return home to his family and people (gets him off Circe's Island). That's about all we got.

And now for the other materials:

Odysseus by Geraldine McCaughrean is fascinating. I've not read the whole thing but again my goal here is to connect source materials for inspiration for the sunshine character. Polites gets much more screen time here than in the Odyssey. He is still odulysseus' best friend, and he commands some of the fleet at the time. He still shows respect for Odysseus calling him "captain, my lord" But also "master" in some instances, perhaps hinting that he is/was a slave? He and Odysseus are the only ones who know about scylla, which creates a new dynamic and is the one to tie Odysseus to a poll and try to calm him down during the sirens, so he does not jump overboard. Polites does, however, drown to his death in this version having gotten tangled in ropes and swept overboard.

In Goerne, N. Gender Roles in Ancient Greece and Ancient Rome: Odyssey and Aeneid in Comparison. the author mentions that Polites did fall victim to Circe's song specifically and walked into her hall, Eurylocous was the one who was able to return to Odysseus because he hung back.

In Moorman, C. (2014). Kings and Captains: Variations on a Heroic Theme. University Press of Kentucky. Polites is acknowledged as Odysseus' favorite in contrast to Eurylocous who serves as Odysseus' foil.

Cole, D. R. (1976). 'ASTY'AND'POLIS':" CITY" IN EARLY GREEK. Stanford University. Brings up the good point that POLIS as a word is representative of a city, as is the word ASTY. Polis only shows up in Polites' name, asty shows up more frequently including but not limited to Astyanax. Other scholars have mentioned how this is a geopolitical tension of what makes a city, but I'm not sure if I'm reading those scholars correctly and welcome other opinions. This is by no means my area.

I'm chomping at the bit to find a copy but Polites is frequently mention in The Odyssey: Missing Presumed Dead by Simon Armitage. The pages I can find on Google are slim but I think Circe mistakes Polites for the captain? Or Polites is referred to as captain because he has a position of leadership within the fleet.

TRIGGER WARNING TO SEXUAL ASSAULT BELOW. Based on Daniel Ogden, The werewolf in the ancient world. Oxford; New York: Oxford University Press, 2021. Pp. 288. ISBN 9780198854319. Daniel Ogden's book argues that Polites is one of the original depictions of a werewolf in Greek literature, more specifically, the ghost of a werewolf. Pls note that I am getting this material based on a review written by Scott Bruce of Fordham University, “Chapter 5 argues at length that the wolfskin-wearing ghost of Polites, a crewman of Odysseus, should be considered a werewolf.” this also refers to the Hero of Temesa by Pausanias of Magnesia, if you want to Google that story. I believe they are the same. I also got material from the article Ogden, D. (2022). Did the Classical World Know of Vampires?. Preternature, 11(2), 199-224. The story goes that in Temesa Polites got drunk and raped a local woman and as a result was stoned to death (other stories depict a different crew member raping a woman and being stoned to death). Then Polites comes back and haunts Temesa as a demon/ghost, and an oracle says if the townspeople sacrifice a virgin to him once a year he won't kill them. Then, Euthymus of Locri fell in love with the woman intended to be sacrificed and chased Polites into the sea, ending the curse. Other readings if the same story say that Polites eats the victim, not just murders and or SAs them. Some readings also mention him wearing a wolfskin, which could be an early nod to him doing these activities under the influence of being a werewolf.

If I find more sources I will be back, but for now that's all folks.

[yuseirra]

Oh no... I am so sorry for annoying you with my ask about comparisons between ONK characters with other anime characters, I truly did not mean to annoy you at any single way or bring any sort of trouble, I made this tumblr just to formally apologise I do am ashamed to talk on my main so I am a coward but still I just feel I am dumb while i read thus can't have a good judgment but... and I like reading from people I know is smart for sure and I won't bother you again with fandom discussions I will just support you correctly I truly hope you can forgive me, far from my intentions to bother you in any single way I am so so so sorry

Hello~ I thought of replying this to you privately, but since it's not an ask sent through your main according to what you say, I hope you don't mind me replying on public! I feel the need to clarify what exactly I felt as I was answering you on my end as well..!

Oh, no, I wasn't so annoyed earlier, I just... didn't think the answer was something that'd need to be asked because isn't it so obvious? If you've been watching and supporting me, you'd know what answer I'd give! XD The take you brought up was quite extreme... things usually don't tend to be so black and white, even if it's a manga, so the answer I could give felt like a given. I understand you need assurance sometimes, I've been there! Was that what you were looking for earlier? It's nice to see similar takes and get some confirmation! I appreciate you having trusted me to give out some good insight about a topic you're interested in. But.. at the same time, I didn't want to state that people are necessarily wrong about their takes on my answer. I've never seen them, so I can't be sure enough to judge, and I could only talk about my own feelings. I may not agree with it, but they're a different person and I don't know enough to disagree with something I haven't seen. And I don't think I'll try and see takes like those on purpose either... even if I came across it, I'd just pass through it...

I haven't been drawing Aqua so much lately, but if you'd like to see my takes on the character, my drawings would reflect my feelings! I believe I've still drawn a few! Never got to depict his warm sides as much as I'd like, recently, I've been drawing him very annoyed about his dad bc how the story's been but if things turn for the better in the manga, I'd love to try drawing him that way :)

It's my personality, you see, I don't really enjoy debates, my friends do though? If my friend was here, they'd have had a lot of fun with your ask. I just tend to prefer keeping to my thoughts most of the time (except for the things I'm really passionate about!) Some people may really enjoy getting these asks, I'm... it really depends on the question, but maybe I don't enjoy it as much as some others may. I might enjoy some really cute and uplifting type of things... but hearing Aqua being taken as a heartless person's kind of sad; I do care about that character too. He's a character that's been suffering, he shows signs of PTSD. When I first read the comic, I felt pretty immersed towards his emotions and I sympathized with him a lot.

I'd like to say I didn't intend for you to get all apologetic and nervous! Wow, you even made a blog to apologize? but you really didn't have to! It's very hard to convey the tone of voice through words, ain't it? I was being really casual with that reply earlier. If I could just read it over in my voice, you'd have heard it and figured this person isn't so mad about it. I was talking the way I usually do! So no worries, I'm glad I got to hear from you again and hopefully I could lift you of your feelings you're having. Um, I'd be happy if I could provide some good takes about this series you can agree with :) We may not be able to agree on everything, but I have a feeling you might end up enjoying how I view things regarding this series. Will you still support me despite having felt this nervous about it? I'd like that to happen! Hope you have a nice day!

[qqueenofhades]

How hard would you say it is to do a major and then two minors, one of which is very highly related to my major (Theatre Arts with an emphasis in costume design as a major and Apparel Textiles & Merchandising as a minor) and the other being an unrelated side interest of mine (history)?

I'm a high school senior and I've already decided on college and everything but I'm holding back on sending off an application for the history minor just because I have no idea how much it would actually add to my courseload and I haven't been able to meet with people from the department like I have for the other two programs. I don't know how hard it would be to two minors, and I'd do just history as a minor if I hadn't chosen my college specifically based off of the fact that they offered the ATM minor. Is it something that I can wait until my sophomore year to decide after seeing how I handle just one minor and a major for my first year? I've been able to handle multiple AP classes each year throughout high school and that's my only point of comparison for what a higher than normal courseload would look like and I was able to handle that fine. What do you think or would you recommend?

Hmm. I'm very impressed with your initiative and your planning, but in my role as wise old academia grandmother of tumblr, I might caution you to wait a year and see how the workload goes with a major and a minor, rather than leaping immediately into a major/two minors (especially since a history minor will be work-intensive). Especially if you don't actually know the exact specifics of the courseload and/or haven't talked with people in the department yet.

I don't know when exactly your program would need you to declare a minor, but I would imagine that there's time to wait; after all, many students don't formally select a major until after their first year, and there's usually some amount of core courses/main curriculum to complete during that time anyway. Upper-level students do generally have more leeway to select their program of study, so it's not like you would totally miss out on the history minor if you didn't take it right away. If worse came to worse, you could at least take some history electives, even if you didn't do the formal minor, and have a chance to explore some other courses/opportunities.

Even if you've taken multiple AP courses in high school, the transition to college can be a lot, and you might also crash a little in your freshman year, especially if you're trying to do everything at once. So yes, I would recommend holding off on adding the history minor for now, just until you know how you feel. If you get through your first year and feel good and ready to add more work, you can go ahead and pursue it, but yeah. After all, there's nothing saying that you can't continue to study independently, have more time to meet history faculty/familiarize yourself with the university program, and otherwise be prepared to get started properly in year 2.

[im-constantly-fangirling-backup]

Here Comes the Cavalry

REPOST BECAUSE TUMBLR HATES ME

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Swear words

Word Count: ~2.3k

A/N: Thank you so much for requesting this, anon! I had a really fun time writing this and I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Charlie's 10th birthday finds itself the center of a showdown between Thomas and his ex-wife over the new woman in his life.

[Masterlist] [Taglist Form] [Join my 200 followers celebration!]

Being a friend of the Shelby's- didn’t matter how close or distant- was like walking around with a target on your back. But you didn’t mind. As much violence and chaos that the family attracts, and as much as they try to have power over each other, there was a mutual love and respect between every Shelby that you hadn’t seen anywhere else. For example, when Polly found out Tommy had hidden crucial information, she was pissed; but also proud. It was a bit concerning, if you were going to be honest. Even Grace was kept in the loop after the divorce. Once a Shelby, always a Shelby, you supposed. Grace wasn’t involved in the family business at all, but she and the family met occasionally. Although, as time passed on, it was mostly so Charlie could spend time with his father. Grace was now remarried and her visits were far and in between. She drifted apart from all the Shelbys- not that they minded, as her betrayal was still in their minds all those years later. Thomas started to move on from her as well, now very much used to Grace not being a part of his day-to-day life. Today was the day that Grace and Charlie were making a rare visit to the Arrow House for his 10th birthday. Thomas postponed all of his meetings for the entire week to make time for his son, an action that made you smile when you heard Tom tell his clients of his absence. And they call him heartless, you had laughed to yourself. “Ada! How are you doing!” you said, hugging your best friend before walking into the Arrow House. You took off your coat and hung it on the hook next to the door. “Oh I’m doing great sweetheart,” she said. “Auntie Y/NNNNNN!” you heard a little boy’s voice yell from the stairs. The pitter-patter of their feet running across the wooden floor echoed through the large room and made you chuckle. “Hello, Karl!” you kneeled on your knees and opened your arms for Karl, who ran into them and almost made you topple over. “Someone’s excited to see me!” You squeezed him lightly, resting your cheek on his head. You pulled away from him and reached into your purse, grabbing a chocolate bar that you had bought for Karl. “I got you something!” Karl smiled, his cute crooked teeth on display. “Thank you!” He grabbed the bar from your hand and started unwrapping it, running away from you and towards the living room. “Uncle Arthur, look what Auntie Y/N gave me!” he yelled. “What did I say about the chocolate?” Ada chided you. You laughed. “I couldn’t help it Ada,” you defended yourself. “He’s too adorable to not spoil.” In the background, you heard Karl laugh loudly. “You can’t have any Uncle Arthur, it’s for me!” You chuckled and shook your head, looking down at the floor in mock exasperation. The Arrow House would be nothing without the echoes of Karl’s screams bouncing around the walls from time to time. Even Thomas seemed to brighten up a bit more whenever Karl and Ada visited. You supposed it was because his nephew reminded him of his own son that he barely got to see. At the thought of Charlie, you looked up to Ada. “When are Charlie and Grace showing up?” Ada shrugged. “They should be here in a couple of minutes. Why don’t we head to the living room? Tommy bought a shit ton of food for Charlie so we might be able to steal a bit.” _______________________________________________________________________________________ You and Ada made your way into the living room and smiled at the exquisite birthday decorations. There were balloons of every color bunched up every couple of feet around the room, a large birthday banner hanging proud and true on the wall across from the fireplace. “Hello, Y/N. Ada,” Tom said from where he sat on the couch, his elbows on his knees. You smiled at him. “Thomas.” Tom smirked slightly- which was a fucking bright-ass grin when it came to Thomas. “We’ve been over the ‘Thomas’ shit, Y/n/n,” he said, quirking his brow. You chuckled. “We have,” you said. “Tom. ‘S just fun to be all fucking formal.” Tom pat the spot on the couch next to him while Ada left your side, sensing that you two wanted some

time alone. You walked over to Tom and sat next to him. “You excited?” Thomas nodded, his blue eyes brightening slightly. “I hardly get to see Charles anymore. You bet your ass I’m spoiling me boy when he’s here,” he joked. You laughed. “I’m sure Charlie’s going to like all of this,” you gestured to the decorations around you. “Oh! Before I forget! Where should I put this?” You reached into your purse and pulled out a folded mancala board that Charlie had begged you for the last time he visited. Thomas smiled and took the board from you, leaning down and sliding it under the couch. “We’re going to open presents after cake, so just remember to pick it back up.” From there, you and Thomas began to talk about the family business. Unlike with Grace, Thomas found himself consulting you on many decisions that he made. You weren’t directly involved but your advice was greatly appreciated by the family. Especially since Thomas wanted to get into politics- a field that you knew well because your father ran for MP multiple times before his death- your advice on what not to do gave him valuable insight on how to maintain a favorable public image. “I know your past is something that can’t be erased,” you said in response to Tom’s concerns about the subject. “But that doesn’t mean it can’t be hidden. Or at least left ambiguous enough that people can’t ask the right questions. You keep the public from asking the right questions, and you make sure they can never find the answers.” “It’s a bit unnerving that you know this,” Tom noted, a smirk on his face. In truth, he was impressed. Your knowledge of politics was quite extensive considering your father tried to keep you away from it for most of your life. But you knew how to eavesdrop and read gossip, and so you gained a wealth of knowledge about politics. You laughed. “You’re acting like you don’t already know this.” Thomas took a drag of his cigarette and chuckled. “You got me there.” Your conversation was interrupted by the distinct shrill of the doorbell. Tom perked up and smiled. “Charles is here!” He practically jumped up from his seat on the couch and made his way to the hall. You followed him to the hall, beckoning Karl, Ada, and Arthur- who had been quietly eating food in the corner, thinking Tom hadn’t noticed- to come with you. You and the group walked into the hall to the sight of Thomas laughing and picking up Charlie in his arms and bouncing him up and down, making his son giggle. “Happy birthday Charlie!” you exclaimed, clapping. Arthur, Karl, Ada- and John and Polly, who had been talking in the hall after you arrived- clapped and joined in wishing Charlie a happy birthday. Charlie and Karl shared a hug that resulted in you awing. You looked at Grace and smiled. “Welcome, Grace,” you greeted her respectfully. Grace simply nodded at you and took off her coat. Turning around to put her coat on the coat hooks next to the door, she gasped lightly in shock when she saw your coat resting next to Tom’s. “Whose coat is this?” she asked casually. You apologized profusely. “It’s mine, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to impose. I can find a different place for it-” Thomas waved his hand nonchalantly. “Oh, no need. You’re not imposing, Y/n/n.” You blushed slightly. “Frances can take your coat, Grace. I trust you remember who she is?” He jabbed at her lightly. Grace huffed and nodded. “Alright.” The tension between Tom and Grace was palpable and made everyone make excuses to leave the room. You left as well, saying something about wanting to play around with Karl and Charlie. You knew things were bad between Thomas and Grace. So bad, in fact, that Tom had approached her with a divorce. Tom was many things, but he wasn’t the type of person to reach for a divorce. He believed that marriage lasted for life. But after Tom’s and Grace’s arguments over his ambitions and dreams started to grow from skirmishes to screaming matches littered with threats, Thomas had enough. He told you the night that he decided to divorce Grace that he didn’t want to spend his life with a woman

that didn’t support his political and business ambitions. You found yourself sympathizing with both of them. You understood Grace’s concerns about the target that would always be on her and Charlie’s back because of Thomas’s ambition. But you also understood Thomas’s argument that his ambitions were also the thing that would provide his family with more opportunities than he had. Thomas’s goals were a double-edged sword. Although, Grace had become quite cold to Thomas in retaliation for the divorce, often sending him and his family veiled insults. So you didn’t feel much remorse for her when Tom made barbed comments like the one made in the hall. You sighed while watching Karl and Charlie play. It was going to be a long party. _______________________________________________________________________________________ All of you were eating cake, you talking with Polly about some gossip that you heard when going shopping for groceries. “Apparently Brandon was just using her for her status,” you said, licking the frosting off of your fork. “But then Brandon caught Melissa sleeping with her boss-” “No fucking way!” Polly interrupted, putting her plate down and gasping. “How the hell do these things happen to people!” You laughed. “I know right! My life is boring in comparison- and I hang out with you insane idiots!” “Hey!” John said from across the table, his mouth full of cake. “We’re not that bad!” “Speak for yourself,” Ada muttered from next to her brother, cringing when John stuck his cake-covered tongue out at her. “Honestly, Y/N,” Grace’s refined voice reverberated through the dining room, “You shouldn’t be gossiping this much. It’s a boring pastime.” You quirked your brow. “I’m sorry?” “Oh it’s alright, I understand that some people have nothing better to talk about. I’m just saying, gossip signals a bland personality and I’m sure you don’t have that, hm?” Grace’s implied message was clear. You sat in silence for a moment, surprised. “No?” you said, going along with whatever Grace said. In all honesty, you didn’t care what Grace thought of you. She barely visited enough for you to give a shit. But apparently, Tom didn’t want to let it slide. “Look, Grace, it’s not a big deal to gossip, alright? You’d be a big fucking hypocrite telling Y/n/n not to gossip when pretty much everything you talked about was who was fuckin’ who-” “Thomas!” Grace chided. “What? If you’re going to walk in here and criticize how Y/n/n spends their time, you can fuck off, alright? I don’t need some posh stuck-up woman in me house. So either behave yourself and let Charlie have a good birthday,” Thomas threatened, “Or get out of me house and have fun on the streets for a week.” “You’d let your own son live on the streets for a week?” Grace asked, shocked. “My threat regards only you. Charles is me blood- you make me see blood.” Grace looked down at her plate and picked up her fork and ate her cake again. Tom took that as an agreement to get along with everyone and started eating again as well. You were just thankful that you had sent Karl and Charlie to play upstairs. But regardless of the tense situation, a smile graced your face at the immediacy that Tom defended you with. _______________________________________________________________________________________ “Hey,” you tapped Thomas’s shoulder when you both found yourselves alone in the back room. “Thank you for defending me.” Tom nodded and smiled slightly. “Of course.” “I mean it. No one really defends me so I really appreciate it. Especially since it’s Grace.” Tommy’s brows raised slightly at that comment. “What do you mean?” You shrugged, looking anywhere but at Tom. “I mean, she was the woman that made you the person you used to be before France. I understand there’s some bad blood between you two now, but she’s still special to you.” Tom hummed and walked closer to you, stopping at around 2 feet away from you. “So are you, you know. You’re special to me.” You smiled. “You’re special to me, too.” Thomas’s hand cupped your cheek lightly, his thumb stroking

back and forth. A flush made its way to your cheeks and you smiled shyly at Tom. There was always some unspoken bond between the two of you that you danced around. You were always scared that it was too early after his divorce, but with the way that he was looking at you, he probably got over it a while ago. You don’t know who leaned forward first, but one second later your mouths were connected in a feverish kiss. Tom’s hands were traveling places, touching parts of your body that you caught him eyeing from time to time. Your hands rested against his chest and reveled in the feeling of his heart thumping against his chest as erratically as yours. So you had the same effect on him as he did on you. The kiss was a good indicator of that, but it was nice to have reassurance. Tom pulled away and rested his forehead on yours. “Fuck, I’ve wanted to do that for months now,” Tom confessed. You smiled, pecking him on the lips. “So have I,” you replied, pulling his mouth back to yours.

[athena-is-a-chaotic-lil-shit]

Of Ice and Blood

Part 4

Welcome back! Hope you enjoy✨

Pairing: Tai'chi Kashharzol (Orc) x Pearl Blackbell (Human OC/Reader)

Warnings: Violence, cursing, shouting, and fighting. No blood mention. Just broken bones and stuff.

2.1k+ words [originally 1.6k but I revised it and added more details!]

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 5 Part 6

Sensing another one behind me, I went low and struck his leg with mine, using his fall to punch his chin with my right fist this time, being careful to use a controlled amount of force or else the nerve I hit will result to permanent brain injury and can be fatal.

I got up, swift in my actions as I saw the guy with a raised baseball bat heading towards me from my left flank, and the other one from the right, fast.

On reflex, I leaned back, the bat that was aimed at me hitting his comrade on the shoulder instead. Guy's lucky, actually. He would have suffered internal bleeding if it bashed the side of his skull.

Four down, two to go.

I took my stance once again to ready myself. This dude was a foot taller than me, with muscles packed with raw strength, but even so, pale in comparison to Tai'chi's p—

Stop thinking that! Focus!

"Smash her head Dan!" The man behind him yelled.

This 'Dan' went straight to me with his bat raised with intent once more.

Breathe in.

Everything slowed down. I let my heart rate decelerate, my hearing sharpened, my sense of smell heightening even further.

I closed my eyes, letting the rest of my senses take over. Years of practice, days of pain from training, each motion engraved to my entire body with purpose. To defend not only myself, but also those who are looked down upon, discriminated and stepped on like dirt. My parents had always taught me to defend myself. Me. Don't get me wrong, my parents are good people, albeit wary of the other races in our community. But the moment I left the roof of my home, I knew it was time for me to defend someone other than myself. I don't give a damn about where we come from or what kind of blood flows within our veins. I will protect those who need protecting, and set anyone straight and down to the ground when they deserve it.

Breathe out.

At the last few moments, with my eyes still shut, I changed my form. I followed his aura and pictured out the shape that was drawing up to land a serious blow to my head. Dan is solid and heavy, but everyone has at least one weakness. And this guy is not spared from that.

The bigger they are, the harder they fall.

I opened my right fist, right foot forward and relaxed my arms, my legs serving as a firm foundation for my upper body. With the bat inches away from me, I smoothly dodged to the side, using my palm to push away the hand holding the weapon and punched a vital pressure point right under his bicep.

I bent my legs even lower and struck the center of his ribs with my thumb, closing my hands as I jabbed his sciatic nerve on each side at the same time, both located in the middle line of the thigh between the groin and the knee. A solid blow to those nerve points will cause intense pain and shock to the person, along with a temporary immobility of the feet.

a/n: Self defense 101! Remember that dear readers♥

With the support of my left leg, I went behind the man, standing straight and proud. Calm, I opened my eyes when I heard his fall, staring right into the fearful ones of the moron that started all of this.

"Y-You- You killed them!"

Is he that dumb?

"Correction, I didn't. I knocked them unconscious is all. And the fellow that attacked me first? Well, he passed out from the pain of his now funny-looking arm." I stated flatly as I trudged to where he was standing.

"S-Stay away from me! Monster! Freak!" He stumbled, his ass on the ground and away from me until he felt a tree trunk on his back.

I scoffed and withdrew my knuckle dusters back under my baggy sleeve.

"You wanna know who the real monster is?" I stopped and held him in place with my scrutinizing gaze. He was trembling like a wimp at this point.

"It's you.

"You and your disgusting racist friends.

"You, along with all the people who view and treats anyone other than humankind as lowlifes and pests that are meant to be squished and eradicated from the society.

"No, it's you, and the ones who have the same mentality as you, who are monsters under the guise of a human."

I paused, not even blinking as I bore holes into his skull.

"I am human, down to every inch of my being. But unlike you, I respect and treat everyone, regardless of kind or gender, and to those who deserve it, fair and right."

Before I could continue, I scented new people coming into the scene. It was the teaching staff, along with the uni's guard.

Shocked of what they have seen, they turned towards me, angry, surprised, confused expressions on different faces.

"What have you done?!" A female, human instructor, looking to be around her late 20s shouted.

"Ma'am, if you would just let me explain—"

"You are hereby expelled from this institution, young lady!"

All the color of my skin left me as I heard the words I have dreaded even before I set foot in the campus grounds.

"Now let's not go straight to conclusions. We need to deal with this professionally AND properly Miss Holson. You are also not in authority to suspend this student." A heavily bearded dwarven professor, clad in a brown suit and Oxfords, told her off firmly.

"What are you saying Mr. Dulrik? Look at her! Look at this! She murdered students and oh my God, is that the dean's son?!"

For the love of— she blind? Why does everybody think I killed someone???

"Ma'am they are—" I was about to tell her but got cut off, again!

"Helpmehelpmehelpme!" He scrambled away from me and ran to the group of teachers and hugged the young instructor. "I don't know what came over her! She just attacked us out of nowhere!"

The audacity of this fucking bitch!

"Pardon me? Attacked you? YOU were the one who followed me out here! You and your" —I gestured to the bodies laying flat on the ground— " buddies over there!"

"She is lying! The orc was with her and and and—"

It dawned on me that I almost forgot about Tai'chi. My eyes widened, and I frantically scanned the area around for him. And there he was, standing by the oak tree, right where I told him not to move.

He seemed...irritated?

Oh no. At me?

"I have not moved an inch from where I am standing ever since I planted my feet here." He said with his deep baritone voice, turning to confront the staff. "What she's speaking is the truth. They were the ones who followed her here and attacked her, first."

"And how can we be sure you are telling the truth, orc?" Miss Holson replied spitefully.

Even the teacher, huh? Her odor smells like vomit. I mean, I knew she was...foul, but I thought it was because of the situation. Guess not.

Tai'chi did not respond. Instead, he moved to look at me in the eyes. His gaze, searching, but not in an awful way. Was he asking me what I'll do?

"How about we discuss this in the office, shall we?" An elderly professor spoke. She was wearing the university's formal teaching uniform together with black, flat, closed toe sandals. "And Miss Holson, please quiet down. As Mr. Dulrik said, we should not jump into baseless conclusions."

Miss Holson fumed and shut her mouth, holding the coward in her arms.

"Now then, Miss...?"

"Blackbell."

The woman paused. I caught a smell of surprise and... astonishment?

She cleared her throat "Well, then Miss Blackbell, please follow us to the Dean's office, along with your, companion."

Weird.

"Oh and Mr. Smith, kindly call for assistance and take the unconscious students to the infirmary to be treated and looked unto. Thank you." She told the guard. With that, she and the rest of the faculty started walking back.

I glanced at Tai'chi once more to find him, again, staring. I approached him warily, expecting him to be mad at me.

"Uh. Hi?"

I let out a long exhale when he replied, with a slight tug of his lips, his tusk jutting out. "Hi."

I fidgeted, trying to come up with words to explain myself.

"I uh, uhm. Are you mad?"

With his brow raised, "Why would I be?"

Yeah why would he be?

"I-I never told why I keep wearing my mask." I stuttered, "You see I—"

"You two! Start moving before I force you to." A teacher yelled at us from a distance.

"We'll talk later, Pearl. For now let's get this resolved first. I know for a fact that they won't expel you unless they ignore the ill intentions of the ones who attempted to harm you first. But better be safe than sorry, he was the dean's son afterall."

"Yeah... Thanks. We should.. go." I turned and started walking along his side.

******pov shift for a bit*******

Little did Pearl know, he was thinking about how...nice, yeah that's the word, definitely not sexy, you were when he witnessed your skills in combat. It awakened something in him that it took a lot of control not to get aroused there and then, which was the real reason why he stood there, unmoving from his place. Not once did he leave his eyes from you, almost jumping to help you when the guy with the baseball bat was closer than we would have liked. But oh no, he was not surprised, he was astonished and shookt , amazed when you pulled that last technique, sending the human plummeting to the ground almost soundlessly. And the way you stood right after, he knew he was smitten. That proud and intense aura you gave off was enough to make him bow down at your feet. He could feel it. He could smell it. That was his secret, he can scent people and catch any mood shift they make. Even though he told her that her eyes and brows gave it away, it was not entirely true as he could smell, literally, you and the changes on your scent.

Oh but little did he know you could to. Just not as observant as he is.

:>

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

Wow— when I copy pasted the original thing from my notes to my drafts in Tumblr I was like "okay, so. I should read it AGAIN before I post it if I wanna avoid more unnoticed mistakes and keep editing it again and again even though I posted it already! " And I never though it would lead me to adding almost a half thousand words and a pov shift— which i found interesting and really nice! Should I do it more often? Like little inserts of what Tai'chi or another characters thoughts in second pov in between fics if necessary? It's just, nice, to put them in and write all out about what they were thinking outside of Pearl's pov! Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoyed reading❤

Tags: @kokokatsworld @crackinanutshell

[emy-loves-you]

Perfection Isn’t Perfect

So, as some people know, I lost a bet to @imthebadguythatsfine and my punishment was to write 3K words of whatever they wished. My prompt was: cutesy anaroceit date! It was originally supposed to be something completely different, but plot came and slapped me in the face. So here we are!

Summary: Roman, Janus and Virgil were planning on having a fancy date, but it was canceled due to bad weather. Roman will not stand for it, and assures his loves that they don’t need fancy clothes and nice makeup to have a good date night. Anaroceit with nonbinary!Virgil, genderfluid!Roman, and background QPR Intrulogicality

Warnings: Implied Sex (Remus), language

Words: 3,333

Masterlist

Virgil sighed as they scrubbed the makeup off of their face. Another date night lost to bad weather. Just their luck. They looked up at the corner of their mirror, smiling sadly at the two pictures taped there. The first one showed Roman up on a stage, her pink pronoun bracelet proudly on display, giggling as she spun in circles. The other photo showed Janus at the zoo, holding an intense staring contest with a python (Virgil had actually recorded that entire experience, mainly because it took their boyfriend a full 2 minutes to remember that snakes didn’t blink).

Virgil loved their partners with all of their heart. They had all met in high school, each one from a different social group. Roman, the theatre nerd. Janus, the popular kid. Virgil, the resident bad boy and social outcast. None of them would’ve met if it hadn’t been for Roman’s twin brother, Remus. Remus had quickly attached himself to Janus and Virgil, and introduced them to Roman a few months later. The rest, as they say, was history.

Virgil shook their head, focusing back on their makeup. They’ve been dating Roman and Janus for a few years now, but it was nearly impossible to spend time with both of them. Roman was always auditioning for some play, hoping to rack up enough credit to reach Broadway. Janus was still in college, trying to fulfill his dreams of becoming a lawyer. And Virgil didn’t know what to do with their life. They were currently a manager at the local supermarket while commissioning artwork on the side. Virgil was the only one with a predictable schedule, and even then they were constantly busy. They could usually score a lunch date with either Roman or Janus, but the third was almost always busy. Today was supposed to be their first three-person date in over a month. Virgil sighed. They were looking forward to seeing their partners face-to-face. They would just have to settle for video chats and texts.

Virgil sighed as they continued to wipe off their makeup. Janus and Roman always looked like they were runway models, especially during dates. Virgil would spend hours on their makeup and hair so they didn’t look homeless in comparison. It was kind of daunting, actually. Their partners always looked perfect, with perfect makeup and unwrinkled clothes. Virgil would probably die of embarrassment if their partners saw the way they look at home, wearing only a baggy hoodie and some sweatpants, their hair tied up in a messy bun.

“VIRGEY! WHERE ARE YOU?”

Virgil screamed, jumping as they threw their makeup wipes at the bathroom door where the sound was originating. A few seconds later, the door opened to reveal Remus standing there, soaking wet. Remus grinned. “Pack your pajamas and toothbrush, we’re having a sleepover!”

Virgil blinked slowly, staring at their best friend. “What?”

Remus started bouncing slightly as he grabbed Virgil’s hand. “C’mon! You need to get out of this stuffy apartment. I’ve got food and games and movies!” He smirked. “So grab your sexiest pjs and come on!”

Virgil blushed before sighing. “Alright, geez. Just let me get this makeup off first.” Remus sometimes crashed at their place for ‘sleepovers,’ but this would be the first time that Virgil stayed at his place. But Remus was right, Virgil did need to get out of their apartment and stop focusing on their ruined date.

Remus giggled. “Alrighty then! I’ll be downstairs.”

Ten minutes later, Virgil stood in their living room, backpack hung loosely around their shoulders. They were still bummed that they didn’t get to go on their date, but at least they could spend some time with Remus. “Let’s go.”

“Alrighty, then! Get ready to get wet!”

“Why am I getting- oh.” Virgil stared at their now open apartment door, rain pouring so quickly that they could barely see a few feet in front of their face. Virgil sighed. It’s not like anyone’s gonna see me like this. With that, Virgil marched out into the rain, shuddering as the initial chill soaked through them. Virgil quickly locked the door before sprinting towards Remus’ car, not stopping until they were safely in the backseat. Remus followed a few seconds later, and Virgil snorted as they saw the air freshener hanging on the mirror. It had the outline of a deer with the words Oh Deer in the middle. Virgil snorted. “Did Patton get you that?”

Remus’ grin softened as he looked up at the air freshener. “And what if he did? I’m allowed to get gifts from my squishes!”

Virgil laughed. “Yeah, but it’s an air freshener.”

Remus huffed. “I recognize that some people might not appreciate my natural scent, but that does not mean you should ridicule me, Emo!”

Virgil chuckled. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s get out of here, trash rat.”

Remus laughed as he turned on the car. “Why are you in the backseat?”

Virgil raised their eyebrow. “Because last time I sat in the passenger seat, there was a squirrel in your glovebox.”

“First of all, I did not know about the squirrel. Second of all, that was one time!”

“Yeah, one time too many!” They both chuckled at that, before the car descended into a comfortable silence. A few minutes later, they arrived in front of a house. Virgil started to unbuckle before they realized something. “Remus, this isn’t your house.”

“Uh-huh.” Remus responded, staring at his phone.

“...Then why are we here?”

“You’ll see.”

Virgil huffed, leaning back in their seat. They scrolled through tumblr for a few minutes before the car door opened, someone climbing into the passenger seat with their umbrella and bag. “Sorry, I couldn’t find my face… masks…”

Virgil locked eyes with Janus, feeling their cheeks heat up. Janus was still wearing a fancy yellow button-up shirt and some black slacks, but his hair was ruffled and his makeup was gone. Virgil turned to look at Remus, who was silently giggling at the scene. “You said this was just the two of us.”

Remus chuckled. “I said no such thing! I just implied it!” He turned the car back on and drove away, humming a merry tune he’d heard from Patton while ignoring the tense silence around him.

Virgil could barely stop themself from openly staring at Janus. They’d never seen Janus so… casual. Janus was always dressed to perfection, his perfect makeup and hair only topped by Roman (Roman was the only person Virgil knew to carry both a makeup back and hairspray at all times). It was odd to see Janus without his perfect hair and makeup. A good odd, but still odd nonetheless.

Just as Virgil was contemplating breaking the silence, Remus pulled up to another house. This time it was Janus who pointed out the obvious. “Remus, this isn’t your house.”

Remus giggled. “I never said you were staying at my house. Now come on!”

Remus immediately ran inside, ignoring the rain around him. Janus opened his door and immediately opened his umbrella, then stood there silently. Virgil wondered what he was doing as they got out of the car, until Janus moved to cover both of them with the umbrella. “I assumed you didn’t bring your own.” His tone was slightly teasing, and Virgil was relieved that they might get through this night with minimal awkwardness. “Come now, no need to keep Remus waiting.”

Virgil surveyed the house they were in. Cardboard boxes lined the walls, each one labeled for a different part of the house. They heard laughing from further in the house and followed it, Janus trailing quietly behind them. They reached the kitchen and saw Remus giggling on a barstool, watching as someone whistled and danced as they put something into the oven. His blue pronoun bracelet was a sharp contrast to his bright red pajamas with gold crowns. His hair was sticking up in every direction, and when he turned around Virgil noted that he had no makeup on. But it was still impossible to not recognize him. “Roman?”

Roman chuckled sheepishly. “Surprise?” He gestured to the house. “I was gonna tell you on our date tonight, but that didn’t really happen, so…” Roman clapped his hands (Virgil fondly noted years ago that he only did that when he rambled and needed to get back on topic). “Yeah! This is my new house! I was gonna tell you all about it in person but there was rain so I decided to show you instead!” He made cute little jazz hands. “Tada!”

Virgil blinked in shock while Janus spoke up. “Roman, Darling, I understand why you wanted to show us your home, but why did you have Remus bring us? And why be so secretive about this?”

Roman rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Well, after our date got cancelled, I was talking with Remus-”

“More like bemoaning”

“Talking about how I wish we could have a date without one of us being absent or the weather ruining everything, and Remus asked why we couldn’t just have the date here? And that’s when I realized something.” Roman started gesturing as he spoke. “All of our dates are so ridiculously formal! Other than texts and video calls, when was the last time we spent time together without fancy makeup or perfect hair? I can’t even remember!” He gestured around the mostly-empty kitchen. “So I’ve prepared a perfect date, set with no expectations whatsoever!”

Now it was Virgil’s turn to speak up. “Date?”

Roman smiled softly. “Now, no need to fret. I can hear the wheels turning in your head, My Chemically Imbalanced Romance.” Virgil blushed at the nickname. “The point of this is to spend time together without any stress of trying to look and act perfect. If we can’t have a nice time like this,” he gestured to his pajamas “then how are we gonna have a happy life together?”

Before Virgil or Janus could even try to respond, Remus spoke up. “Well, if you no longer need your bestest twin ever to be your uber driver…”

Roman chuckled. “Go hang out with your squishes. I know you’ve been dying to see them all day.”

“Damn right I have!” Remus quickly made his way out of the kitchen, waving to Janus and Virgil. “Bye Janny! Bye V! Have fun and use a condom!”

“Tell Pat and Specks we said hi! And tell Specks that he still owes me a jar of Crofters!” Roman called out as Remus left, smiling at the laugh he got in return. He then turned back to Virgil and Janus. “So! I have a pizza in the oven and various junk foods throughout the kitchen. I’ve set up some MarioKart and Disney+ in the living room, and I have some moisturizers and nail polish if you’re up for it!”

Janus said something, but Virgil didn’t hear it, their thoughts running wild for a moment. They didn’t even realize that their partners were trying to get their attention until they felt a hand on their shoulder. They saw Janus’ hand, but it was Roman who was in Virgil’s direct field of vision. Roman gave them a curious look, and Virgil let out a shaky breath. “Sorry, I’m still adjusting to this. I just went from a random hangout with Remus, to a potentially awkward hangout with Remus and Janus, to knowing that I’m now on a date with both of my partners without any way to even try and look nice.”

Roman smiled softly. “That’s why I had Remus bring you two under the guise of a sleepover. I didn’t want you to panic and try to force yourself to be formal and make yourself uncomfortable.” His face then became serious. “However, I understand if this was too sudden. If you want, I can drive you home now. Or you can take up the guest bedroom and have the night to yourself. We would never judge you for something like that.”

Virgil shook their head. “No, I want to do this. It just… hit me all at once, I guess.” They felt their cheeks get warm with embarrassment.

Roman chuckled. “No need to feel embarrassed, Panic at the Everywhere.” He then held out his hand. “Now, onward to video games and Disney movies!”

Virgil giggled as they grabbed Roman’s hand, holding their other hand out for Janus to take. Roman let them to the living room, which was almost completely bare. “When did you move in here, Roman?”

“A few days ago. I wasn’t planning on decorating before showing it off, but we don’t need Disney posters to have a good date!” He pushed a controller into Virgil’s hands. “Here, pick your character. You too, Jack the Fibber.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Out of my way, Janus!”

“Sorry Darling, but first place is mine.”

Virgil smirked as they heard their partners bickering. “Eat shell, bitches.” Two red shells shot out, hitting their mark.

“Aggh, Virgil! Love of my life, why do you do this to me!”

Virgil giggled at Roman’s dramatics, but was suspicious when Janus remained silent. Just as they were a few seconds from winning, Virgil felt a hand gently grip their chin and tilt their head-

Virgil felt lips on theirs and groaned into the kiss, not realizing their mistake until they heard the sound of someone crossing the finish line. They quickly looked back at the screen and saw their character stuck on a wall in 5th place. They quickly finished their race before turning back to Janus, who was now smirking. “You little shit!”

Janus laughed. “You wouldn’t let me be in first, so I returned the favor.”

Virgil gestured over to Roman, who was dancing on the other end of the living room. “You let Roman win! That’s not fair!”

Janus kissed them again, a teasing smirk on their lips. “All’s fair in love and war, Love.”

Virgil grumbled as their cheeks grew warm from the kiss. “Shouldn’t the pizza be done by now?”

Roman gasped as he ran to the kitchen. “THE PIZZA!”

Virgil laughed as their boyfriend attempted to save the pizza. “Why didn’t you set a timer?”

“Well EXCUSE ME for being so utterly distracted by my beautiful partners!”

Virgil laughed, until they felt a hand cupping their cheek. They turned to face Janus, who gave them a fond smile. “He’s right, you know.” He slowly began to trace Virgil’s cheekbone with his thumb. “You are quite beautiful, with and without the winged eyeliner.”

Virgil snorted. “Says you. You and Roman are always beautiful.”

“And the two of you have beauty that rivals the divine!” Roman yelled, coming back with a plate of misshapen pizza slices. “A small portion was charred, so I had to cut it out before I could cut the slices, but it’s still good!” Roman quickly put the plate down before running back to the kitchen. “I’m gonna go get some drink, go ahead and start without me. Bon Appétit!”

Virgil cautiously grabbed a slice, and watched as Janus did the same. They quickly took a bite and watched as Janus took a bite so small that they wouldn’t have known it was there unless they saw Janus take the bite. They snorted, and explained when they saw Janus’ curious stare. “That’s the first time I’ve seen you eat without silverware, and you ate that the exact way I thought you would.”

Janus gave Virgil a small smile. “Well, I typically don’t eat finger-food, so I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Take what as a compliment?” Janus and Virgil turned to see Roman coming back with three cans of soda.

“Virgil had found my eating habits amusing.” Janus set snootily, but the amusement in his eyes was unmistakable.

“Eating habits?” Roman asked as he grabbed two slices of pizza.

“Yeah, he always takes the world’s smallest bites, no matter what he’s… eating.” Virgil was now staring at Roman, who had taken a bite of his newly made pizza-sandwhich, with a cheesy inside and a crust-coated outside.

Roman noticed that he was being stared at and became confused. “Yes?”

Virgil continued to stare at the pizzas. “...You know how some people have things that could make or break a relationship?” They gestured to the pizza. “Thi-this is it.”

Roman snorted. “My Knight in Shining Armor, are you seriously willing to abandon me over my pizza eating habits?”

Janus gave Virgil a bewildered look. “And haven’t you seen Remus eat pizza? He eats it the exact same way.”

Virgil huffed. “Well I’ve learned from personal experience to not look anywhere in Remus’ general direction while he’s eating.”

Roman laughed, leaning over Janus’ lap to cup Virgil’s cheek with his hand. “You still love me though, right?”

Virgil pretended to think about it for a moment. “Hmm, I don’t know… I think I need a little persuasion.”

Roman chuckled, and soon Virgil’s personal space was filled with nothing but Roman. His mouth on Virgil’s, one hand in their hair, the other rubbing small circles into their collarbone-

“Ahem.” Virgil and Roman parted to look at Janus, who appeared more flustered than annoyed. Virgil could sympathize, having sat between Roman and Janus during a make-out scene before.

Roman smirked. “Aw, are you jealous, Love?” He looked Virgil in the eye and they nodded before they both leaned over to press a kiss to the corners of Janus’ mouth. They continued to kiss their respective halves of Janus’ face until it was redder than a tomato. Virgil pulled back and matched Virgil’s smirk as they watched their blushing boyfriend attempt to form words.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

“...There! Now we just have to let it set for 20 minutes.”

Virgil groaned as they resisted the urge to touch the face mask. “How can you do this every night? I’m already wanting to scratch my nose.”

Janus smirked. “Practice, and the desire to have a good self-care routine.” He glanced down to Virgil’s hands. “Your nails are drying nicely.”

Virgil glanced down at their nails, the various black and purple patterns complimenting each other nicely. “Yeah, they are. I think they’re dry too.”

“Well then, would you like a distraction from wanting to touch your face?” Virgil turned to look at Roman, who was plugging in a speaker. They watched as Roman connected his phone to the speaker, and a soft tune floated through the air. It took Virgil a moment to recognize the tune.

Virgil snorted. “Sleeping Beauty? Seriously, Princey?”

Roman gasped in mock offense. “Hey, it’s a lovely song!” He held out his hand. “Now, care to dance?”

Virgil sighed before grabbing Roman’s hand, allowing him to pull them up into a standing position. Roman immediately shifted to a leading position, and Virgil let themself be guided through the dance. Dancing with Roman felt like walking on clouds, every step of uncertainty matched by Roman’s confident movements.

After around a minute of dancing, Roman spun Virgil away. Virgil moved with the motion, expecting to be pulled back into Roman’s embrace. They let out a small squeak when instead they were gently tugged into Janus’ hold. Dancing with Janus felt like they were a snake and Janus the snakecharmer, Virgil instinctively yet shakily following every move in tandem with Janus.

Janus eventually spun Virgil towards the couch in a loose hold, and Virgil let themselves spin across the room and land on the couch. They watched as Roman quickly took Virgil’s spot, following Janus’ lead. It was exhilarating to watch Roman and Janus dance. Every movement was filled to the brim with passion. You could tell with every heartfelt look and gentle touch how much they truly loved each other. And every second of watching reminded Virgil of how much they loved their partners with all of their heart.

Roman and Janus both reached out towards Virgil, their other hands locked together. Virgil smiled at the loves of their life before placing their hands in theirs, letting themself be pulled back into the music.

[amphtaminedreams]

Spring/Summer & Haute Couture Week 2021: Whoops, I’ve Missed a Loooot (Part 2)

Hey to anyone reading,

I’m so sorry for the gap between the last fashion week review post and this one! Argh. I had no idea I posted it as long ago as the beginning of March but I think we can all agree that lockdown has fucked with our perceptions of time completely. I wish I could say the delay in posting was as simple as me being busy but I’ve also started to reflect on whether or not I want to carry on this format of posts for the time being; on the scale of problems, this one is wayyy down there in the very lower quartile of the first world region, but my motivation to carry on this kind of content in the form of long-winded text posts is...meh...not so much there anymore. At first I was thinking the issue was that working on these was my last priority on my daily to-do lists but as I’ve got back into writing fiction, it’s kind of occurred to me that the fact I was putting these posts on my to-do lists in the first place along with things like doing the ironing and contacting student finance speaks volumes. When I’m back from work or winding down, opening up Tumblr and coming back to this draft isn’t something that I think of as a fun stress reliever in the way drafting stories is. It doesn’t feel like I’m using my imagination or my creativity or expressing myself in any way and it’s not much of an escape from day to day life in the way that writing dialogue or exploring characters is. Maybe it’s because I’ve done quite a few of these posts now but I just tend to feel like I’m repeating myself, you know kinda like when you’re writing an essay and trying to fill up a word count; of course there are collections that I do have a lot of opinions on but by and large, sometimes it boils down to THESE CLOTHES ARE JUST FUCKING PRETTY, OKAY?! There’s only so many things you can say about a tulle skirt or an exaggerated collar before you want to strangle yourself with said tulle. I used to think iF VoGUe RuNwaY wRitErs CaN dO iT WhAT's MY exCusE until I realised that 1). Vogue Runway writers actually get paid and 2). for the most part all they do is explain the designer's intentions behind the collections verbatim without giving a critical opinion anyway.

I think a lot of the pressure I feel to justify what are in reality quite simple observations and opinions goes back to some of the feelings I explained in my first ever fashion week review where people who know more about fashion and have a formal education in the subject tend to be kind of gatekeep-y and elitist. It can never be that you appreciate different things about a collection but rather than one of you has taste and the other doesn’t and if it wasn’t obvious, the taste level assigned to you by the powers that be tend to positively correlate with the amount of money you have available to spend on a degree that has a reputation for failing to provide a steady income, which for most makes it an unrealistic avenue to pursue. I know, I know, the pressure is totally self-inflicted and wholly imagined seeing as I have under 500 followers on here and those who do interact with these posts most likely do so for the pictures but I still feel it, and given that I’m going to have enough external pressure to write essays when I return to uni in September, why on earth am I wasting time putting it on myself? When just posting photosets of my favourite looks is not only actually enjoyable for me but is also what other people WANT to see too? Nobody wants to read a self-indulgent paragraph like this when they’re here for the clothes and to be honest, for the most part I don’t want to write them anyway unless it’s something I have strong feelings about or if a collection can only be properly appreciated with analysis. I think I’ve made pretty clear which designers I’m a fan of, do you really need to hear me raving about Gucci or Zimmerman or Miu Miu or Balenciaga again? Is there gonna be anything revolutionary in yet another rant about Maria Grazia? Course not. I mean, if you are reading, you might have to witness those things one last time because I do intend to finish off this season’s review in this format for consistency purposes and because I’ve already got all the notes now but on the whole, I doubt anyone will miss my rambles.

So, with all that in mind, I think after I finish my S/S21 posts I am gonna start just uploading these posts without the written part. I mean, for one, the simplicity of doing this means I’m much less likely to procrastinate making them which in turn means I’ll be able to get them out right after the shows as a kind of summary as opposed to months later when they’re no longer as relevant. This will also give me more time to work on the writing I actually enjoy. Right now I’m going through and editing my 17 year old self’s “grown-up” take on the Pretty Little Liars blackmail murder mystery style plot line which I wrote back when I was completely and utterly obsessed with the show and bitterly disappointed by the last couple of seasons. The writing is pretty mediocre and often hugely cringey to read back now but I am still a fan of the basic plot and I’m genuinely motivated to see if I can make it something actually worth reading, and to get onto that ASAP; this feels especially important right now given that the HBO version of the series’ apparent upcoming release has sent that ever-present writer’s fear of seeing-your-same-storyline-done-better-by-somebody-else-thus-forever-relegating-your-version-to-being-the-poor-imitation-so-you-gotta-get-there-first into overdrive (or maybe that’s just me and my neuroses). Again, it’s a totally unfounded fear based on the fact that the HBO show will probs get millions of viewers whilst I will be doing little more than shouting into the void but anybody who’s used Turnitin to submit an essay that ultimately counts for little more than like 1% of your grade or degree will know that no matter how irrelevant your work is, the concept of failing a plagiarism check, be it via a computer algorithm or one random stranger on the internet’s assessment, is enough to conjure visions of the 4 horsemen of the apocalypse galloping towards you screaming “START THE WHOLE THING AGAIN” before releasing a hoarde of 2015 Chanel vs. Walmart style comparison memes.

Now, speaking of Chanel, I should probably get back into the reviewing. 

So for the last time for a little while, here’s Christian Siriano:

Siriano’s designs are a great example of work I feel guilty enjoying. I know that when it comes to quality, the high fashion community have a lot of (negative) things to say and I really can’t speak to that because quite honestly, I know very little about textile manufacturing. Solely from my own point of view though, I do like his work a lot. I wouldn’t claim for a minute that he’s a pioneer in terms of his creations but I would 100% love to wear them and I DO hugely admire his commitment to putting women of all sizes on the runway and designing pieces that don’t simply cater to straight up and down types which is more than can be said for most brands. I get that his collections are pretty formulaic, taking what has worked for the likes of Chanel and Alessandra Rich, De La Renta and Carolina Herrera, Michael Kors too (who is kind of guilty of the same thing himself), but that’s not to say his work is bad. Let’s be real, we’ve been on this planet thousands of years, we’re all taking inspiration from someone, and maybe figures like Kors and Siriano could wait a *little* longer before taking said inspiration but their aim at the end of the day is to sell clothes, not break barriers, a task which although often left to the big name brands, they too often fail at. I’m not going to lie, I’m feeling this whimsical mid-century tea party vibe, it’s elegant and it’s cutesy and My Fair Lady-esque, and you bet your arse I would be absolutely thrilled to wear one of these looks on a summer red carpet. I just can’t say no to anything tulle-maybe it’s that I was on Toddlers & Tiaras in a past life or maybe it’s that I watched too many Barbie Princess films growing up, but I like pretty much everything going on here, especially Siriano is giving us matching fedoras too. Plus, can we take a moment to praise Siriano for his COVID relief efforts? Near the beginning of the pandemic, he turned his studio into a mask manufacturing factory in order to send them out as donations, and I think that is very cool.

Then there’s Christopher Kane who once again came through with the most insanely gorgeous prints:

I mean, paint splattering is hardly a new technique but I haven’t seen it done as a print so tastefully before-it eats the Moschino biro scribble print (which apparently was copied too speaking of the tendencies of designers to “borrow” inspiration) for breakfast. It’s shit because there weren’t many looks in this collection and they weren’t really shot in a way that does them any justice but I thought I’d include the few I saved.

Comme Des Garcons is a fave of the high fashion community and one I look forward to seeing at fashion week but can never quite get behind. I appreciate the what-the-fuckery of it all with this show totally being able to pass as a run-through of some kind of nuclear waste themed scare house at one of Thorpe Park’s fright nights. I assume given that and the plastic Mickey Mouse print it’s supposed to be some kind of reference to the part late-stage capitalism has played in the hellish landscape we find ourselves in today? Or something all intellectual? In which case I made my interpretation with farrrr too much confidence. But Anyway! Who knows! I’ll leave the analysis to the fashion students, and give it one word: trippy.

Onto Dion Lee, a brand I truly do get excited to talk about because it’s rare that I don’t LOVE his work.

Without fail, Lee manages to be confidently ahead of the curve without going out of his way to announce it and his genius to everyone with flamboyant shows and exaggerated designs and extortionate prices. He is very much an underdog in the fashion world in terms of big names but you’ll be hard pressed to find anyone who doesn’t love his collections. His S/S21 collection is one of my favourites of the bunch. I love seeing something I’ve never seen before and the palm leaf breast plate is so odd but so cool and so perfectly Dion Lee at the same time; we’ve seen jungle/tropical inspired collections sooo many times *cough cough D&G cough cough* and THIS is how you make them fresh and unique. I mean, never in a million years did I think I’d get behind the resurgence of the gladiator sandal trend but Lee has me changing my mind. This is one of the very rare times you will ever see me using this meme to praise a man but:

I mean, he has Fernanda Ly modelling for him, that the man has taste goes without saying.

Now for a bit of a full circle moment, given that I did actually praise Dior’s haute couture collection in my first ever post; Maria Grazia did GOOD. Well, with haute couture at least.

She’s always pretty hamfisted with her references, there’s no denying, with that Grecian Goddess style RTW collection typifying that statement completely, but luckily she struck gold this time round; as someone who studied the Tudors for A-level history, seeing a modern take on the exaggeratedly feminine renaissance silhouettes with the baroque prints and the deep jewell tones got me super excited especially when you throw in the dreamy tarot theming and the nods to the mystical and arcane. Seeing as the Heavenly Bodies Met Gala (I know, I know, I need to move on) was some time ago now and Cersei Lannister’s *SPOILER* been crushed by a rock (could also be seen as a metaphor for the irrelevancy David Benioff and D.B Wise condemned GoT to when they aired that shitty ending tehe) and so probably won’t be getting a collection based on her costumes any time soon, this is the only fashion take on this kind of period dress I’m going to get…and you know what? I’m okay with that. Thanks Maria, I guess?

Her RTW collection wasn’t absolutely awful either, and slightly better than the past few collections at least. Put a monkey in a room with a typewriter (or show it enough similar well-received collections) and it will eventually write something that makes sense, don’t they say? I like the nomadic feel of a lot of the looks and there’s beautiful layering going on but the aura of exotic opulence unsurprisingly didn’t stick around for long and I found that there was a decline in quality in the midsection of the show that landed a lot of the outfits in either awkward mother of the bride at a beach wedding or The Only Way is Essex Ocean Beach PLT sponsored poolside party territory. The looks picked back up a bit towards the end stretch of the show but I wasn’t a fan of the Gucci style oversized glasses which were so out of place with the rest of the theming that if anything they seemed like a cheap grab at relevancy. So yeah, a middling, subpar Etro-esque collection which is better than usual for Dior I suppose.

Next, Elie Saab, whose S/S21 collection was kinda disappointing, tbh. Oh how the turns have tabled given that positive Dior review and my usual love of Saab’s collections.

I know his dresses lose some of their appeal when we can’t see them in motion but even ON the runway I can’t see myself being dazzled by any of these pieces the way I usually am. They’re lacking the level of detail and craftsmanship I associate with the brand seemingly in favour of block colours and suits and the issue is that the whole Disney Princess fantasy has always been the appeal for me because the silhouettes aren’t interesting enough on their own. They’re not ugly pieces, they’re nice, but does nice really have a place in high fashion when the pieces are so basic in both their design and presentation that the shots could pass as ripped from a catalogue? The strongest parts of the collection were when it did go down the more delicate route with the muted blue suits and the white feather trimmed dresses, the small, ornamental gold details reminding me of a very toned down nod to Schiaparelli’s hardware, but with regards to the bright coloured pieces, I can’t lie-they did look like something you could find in the M&S Per Una holiday section. Then you’ve got the weakest parts, which were just flat out ugly: sheer giraffe print, sweat band style elasticated waits, and long chiffon shirts that I hate to admit read as frumpy. There are times where I’ve not been particularly excited by an Elie Saab collection in the past, but I do think this is the first time I’ve actively disliked parts of it.

Conversely, Erdem’s S/S21 collection was super strong, and solidified the brand’s place in my mind as a dependable source of kooky maximalism, this time round giving us  Anya Taylor Joy’s Emma wardrobe on speed. You could tell me Erdem Moralıoğlu had just raided the Bridgerton set’s fitting rooms and put it on a runway and I would 100% believe you and I mean that in a positive way because to give my unpopular opinion, the clothes were the only good thing about that show. The endearingly florid details of exaggerated bows and clashing florals were still there but this time in a way that felt more subtle and self-assured, as if the calming influence of the wooded set’d had a direct hand in the designs, giving the rugged, ethereal feel to the collection I associate with brands like Brock and Simone Rocha, all whilst keeping the parts of Erdem I’m so fond of.

Is it really much of a shock that I included pretty much every look from the Etro S/S21 show?  Like, you know that Christian idea of God, like, (the voice in my head is very much taking on the dumb valley girl voice that anybody who reads this is most probably getting too) knowing our souls? I think Veronica Etro knows mine. So no, no surprise. Though there were a few unconventional touches thrown into these looks (the campier prints and nautical theming we see with the 80s beach towel print, for example, reminded me a bit of Versace) the mystical bohemian it girl that Etro designs for would still be highly satisfied. Sure, it might be a wardrobe fit for a holiday less adventurous than backpacking but if she wanted a tropical poolside holiday, this collection is the one, the paisley print chiffon mini and maxi dresses especially. I’m just gonna pretend I don’t see the monstrosity that is leggings worn as trousers-it’s a fashion rule I refuse to abandon-because they are the only stain on an otherwise expectedly gorgeous collection.

Next, an unusually reserved RTW collection from Fendi:

More in line with the wardrobe of a European fashion editor than the glamorous trophy wife (who let’s say uses that facade as a guise to ruthlessly run her husband’s whole business empire from behind the scenes because in this house we do complex female characters only), these pieces are lot “smarter” and more professional looking than Fendi’s typical offerings; where I feel Fendi usually designs for the society girl who wouldn’t mind a front page scandal, these are the kind of outfits a young member of Monaco’s royal family would wear for a positively received but business-as-usual press tour. I know, Fendi is an Italian brand, but this is more Southern France to me. We’re talking some 2nd page shots of a Kate Middleton type on a yacht on the Riviera smiling and waving as her PR team’s ideal scenario. Still, whilst fewer exaggerated silhouettes, animal prints and overtly luxurious fabrics (real leathers, silks and furs for example) mean that the drama’s a little toned down, it’s all still very expensive looking and combines the classically feminine glamour of the past and the minimalism of modernity in the artful manner that we’re used to. Maybe it’s me being a basic bitch but I always love seeing Ashley Graham on the runway too, even if brands to tend to use her as their single token plus size model.

Kim Jones’ debut haute couture collection for Fendi, however, wasn’t a very well received one. I don’t hate it personally but I can see where the criticisms are coming from. Whilst it’s closer to the version of Fendi I’ve come to expect and there were some stunning pieces which completely encapsulated that distinctive aura of luxe and glamour, there were quite a few lazy pieces which could’ve been from any designer. I also felt the collection was a bit upstaged by what seemed to be a who’s who of the modelling world; having Bella, Cara, Kate and Naomi ALL walk in one show was a bit distracting and took the focus off the clothes completely.

Giambattista Valli’s RTW collection was gorgeous as ever; the man has undeniably mastered the art of delivering classic, objective elegance, the kind of designs I feel would make you light on your feet and smell like strawberries and cream the minute you put one on. Whilst as a brand his RTW shows are rarely trendsetting, they reliably produce a plethora of unfailingly graceful and demure pieces, as appealing to your mum and your grandma as they are to young women and little girls, and this collection is another victory lap for Valli when it comes to upholding his signature tea party and artisan cupcake making and rose garden strolling and bottomless rosé brunch appropriate aesthetic. There were a lot of outfits that were bordering on overly juvenile, with structures a little too basic to justify the amount of sequins thrown on, but when it’s good, it’s so sweet that regardless of how to formula it is, I can’t help but fall in love.

Valli’s haute couture collection was stunning too and for sure a more exciting offering than the RTW. There was of course a lot of the signature tulle but it was head-turning, over the top in a way that leant far more towards the experimental than I expected. The photos themselves are 100% believable as a some kind of Vogue behind the scenes editorial shoot on the set of live action Disney princess movie (in between takes of the climactic ball scene if you wanna get specific with the vision); if you are looking for a prettier alternative to the primary colours and disruptive shapes of a Molly Goddard collection, this is the one. It’s giving the themes of excess and abundance I associate with that of the Hunger Games Capitol but through the softer lens of a Sofia Coppola movie, and being the typical cinema loving white girl I am, I’m obviously on board with that vibe.

I did SUCH a 180 on Givency’s S/S21 collection from when I first saw it to writing a review. My initial reaction was one of disappointment, I guess simply because Givenchy has given us so many bold pieces and presentations over the last few years whereas this is more low-key. After properly considering it though as I would any other brand, I came to the conclusion that I do actually really like it. It’s still got the strange, androgynous silhouettes popping up throughout and the futuristic space-age details but with a more down-to-earth, streetwear feel, albeit a very slick, glossy spin on the trends of the rabble (that’s us guys) of course before we go believing it’s achievable. On the one hand, the devil horn accents are a touch Claire’s accessories halloween range but at the same time, done with confidence they’re kind of cool and bring something new and fun to the table in line with the dark theatre of Givenchy’s last few shows.

Now for Gucci, which for the first time I have to say, if I'm attempting objectivity, is not a standout. 

Like, can I just start by saying though the format it’s presented in is cute, it’s not ideal as a way of actually showing the collection. I get that the vintage shop bin vibe is a huge part of Gucci’s brand but polaroids make it SO hard to actually see the clothes, and that’s what we’re here for right? I don’t want to give the impression that I don’t like what I see here-the clothes are gorgeous, an idyllic ode to the off-duty wardrobes of Studio 54-ers, bohemian style icons like Charlotte Rampling and young Olivia Newton-John, psychedelic rock guitarists and the inhabitants of San Fransisco’s Haight during the late 60s and early 70s, Alessandro Michele’s favourite period of reference. I can’t pretend otherwise, or act like I wouldn’t want to wear the shit out of this collection. Buut, for Gucci? It’s a little underwhelming. These are the kind of filler looks we get in a typical Gucci show to go alongside the more statement pieces, which this collection is lacking. It’s just that these are designs which usually gets people talking and these pieces don’t do that. It sucks because for most other brands this would be a stand out collection, an immersive, luscious vignette of what people tend to think of as a cultural golden era, but when you’ve had a show that involved models carrying replicas of their own decapitated heads down the runway in the last 5 years, of course something more toned down like this is gonna generate a lot of “is that it?”s.

I owe Hermes an apology. Looking back, I have disliked all their previous collections for the same reason that I now really like this one; maybe it’s in part down to the frustration of still having to whack out the winter coat on occasion in May (fuck British weather and climate change), but suddenly I really appreciate the value of some good quality, versatile outerwear. Hermes is giving us that in spades here and for that, I bow down to them. The pieces on offer are clearly well-made and genuinely practical, and through the minimalist approach manage to retain both an air of timeless sophistication whilst also being youthful and on trend. The leather tactical vest co-ord I can easily see edged up and taking centre stage on one of those insane Seoul street style slow-mo TikToks that were big a couple of months ago and there are several pieces that could tie together a grunge influenced k-style look just as well as they could exist for years on end as the wardrobe staple of a high-powered businesswoman. Designer Nadège Vanhee-Cybulski’s strengths really come through with the simpler looks and it’s the patterned pieces that drag down an otherwise flawless collection; I guess because the aesthetic is very minimalist, the patterns can’t be anything overly decorative but unfortunately this has a bit of a dowdy effect when you pair it with such modest silhouettes. Disregarding those elements of the collection though, it was super good.

It goes without saying that Iris Van Herpen’s haute couture collection was breathtaking; if the fashion community can agree on anything, it’s that this woman’s work is consistently awe-inspiring. She captures the wonder of the universe, the biological structures and kaleidoscopic colours we don’t even register, through fashion in a way that others can only imitate, to mesmerising, truly transcendent effect; I can only assume Van Herpen has mother nature whispering into her ear because how the hell else do you explain her ability to take the kind of microscopic organisms they show you images of in an outdated GCSE science powerpoint and make a dress that resembles one so stunning? Care to explain, Iris? Because if there is some kind of line of communication between the two of you can you please tell the bitch I’m over this weather and that I have cute summer outfits I’m waiting to wear so can she pack this torrential rain shit in? K, thanks xoxo

See it seems shady as fuck to go from IVH to Isabel Marant like this because we are talking 2 designers with totallyyyy different approaches to fashion; Iris Van Herpen is haute couture for starters whereas Marant is commercial, and that’s her thing, but unfair comparisons aside this collection is still a bit of a let down. This is considering I do usually really like Isabel Marant collections based on whether or not I’d wear the pieces, which seems a more appropriate barometer to use to come to a quality verdict. Whilst there were a few of the elegant bohemian pieces my mind goes to when it comes to her brand, the steps outside of that comfort zone didn’t pay off; graffiti print (can be cool if done with some subtlety which apart from a few exceptions was not the case here), cheap looking reflective fabric, and MC Hammer style dungarees, it seems to be an attempt to merge 80s trends with modern urban culture, and an attempt that at times verged on the disastrous. It’s good for a brand to experiment, of course, and appeal to a wider client base than usual, but when it’s bad the unfortunate take away is that the design team don’t have the chops to pull off straying from familiar territory; designers wouldn’t be showing at fashion week if this was truly the case because disregarding the influence of nepotism, fashion is an area you need real talent, perseverance and business smarts to excel in, and so it doesn’t do a team justice when they do fail.

J.W Anderson, on the other hand, really put his best foot forward this season and presented this work in a really cool way too which only added to the positives; whilst the way the shots were edited was funky af, it didn’t detract from the actual outfits, and if we are to see the same limitations when it comes to the F/W collections being released, this is something a lot of designers and editing teams should take note of. The idiosyncratic exaggerated shapes that we see as a recurring feature of Anderon’s collections were still on show but this time round with added femininity, billowing skirts and trailing jewellery that channel the stage looks of Stevie Nicks in a way that’s modern and functional and maybe even fit for the office if you were to work in a more creative industry with a chill boss. Could also work for a coven of witches who practice meditation by bonfires in the moonlight and burn the letters of men who wronged them in some Arizonian desert, so like I said, functional! Who doesn’t like versatility? The only thing I’m not too keen on is the shoes but they’re not so bad that it affects my opinion of the collection and they look comfy I guess.

Lastly, we’ve got to talk about Jacquemus, one of the most influential names in fashion at the moment. And yes, this time round, I’m doing it: I’m buying into the hype.

This collection is gorgeousss! I can see already that a lot of the recurring elements of the show are going to be big summer trends for this year (the cut outs and strappy details on the blouses are everywhere already) even though it isn’t hot enough to have collectively decided the time to start dressing for heat is upon us yet, and that’s always a good indicator of how successful the designer was in their vision and attempts to assess the needs and wants of fashion enthusiasts; whether I’m as big a fan of his work as everyone else seems to be, there’s no denying Simon Porte Jacquemus has always excelled at this practice if the buzz around him is anything to go by. It makes sense given the last year of us all being stuck in and suppressed that a lot of us are already romanticising the summer ahead, anticipating picnics and beach days and general Theresa May running through wheat fields type shenanigans galore, in spite of how dubious an assumption it is to make that British weather will allow for this; Porte Jacquemus has very much catered to this wishful thinking and the popularity of the whole escapist “cottage core” aesthetic, sexing it up a little bit with pieces that hug the body in ways only Mugler knows how whilst being lightweight and relaxed enough to look good with windswept, sandy hair and a little dose of sunburn. I’m talking enough to give you some cutesy freckles and rosy cheeks not PSA on the importance of suncream territory, guys, what is it with those of us on the gen Z/millennial cusp not taking sun damage seriously!? Why do I have to beg so many of my friends to wear it!? Does nobody else remember those photos they’d show you in PSHE in English primary schools of burnt people’s skin under UV lights? Or is that just me being weird and only having such a vivid memory of the images because teachers told us we had to wait until year 6 to see them due they to their “graphic” nature only for my gore-loving self to be extremely underwhelmed when we finally did get that lesson? They showed us a woman giving birth in year 4 for fuck’s sake. THAT was traumatising.

Back to the actual point anyway, with just a couple of negatives, the first of which being that the pieces are very similar to those feminine looks we saw dotted about the Jacquemus menswear collection from last year that were all over fashion Twitter. In Simon Porte Jacquemus’ defence though, it makes sense that those tones and silhouettes would be revisited in a full womenswear collection for that very reason; considering they went down so well and that lockdown gave us a bit of a half-baked summer in 2020, expanding on those elements enough for a whole new collection makes good business sense. We did get some cool additions too, mainly in the form of accessories, with the hardware details on the belts similar to those included in the Givenchy collection and the abstract hair slides being standouts for me. It was all exquisite-the shoes, the jewellery, the styling, everything 10/10. My other nitpick, and I say nitpick not because it’s not important but because it’s an issue that’s hardly restricted to Jacquemus (this casting team are far from the worst offenders, Saint Laurent I’m looking at you), is that I WISH we’d see more diversity with the models. Despite what my body dysmorphia yells at me, I am small, and yet seeing all those fucking minuscule waists made me die a little inside; it’s crazy to me that in 2020 the lack of variety in body types on the runway is still such a problem.

I must have said this a million times but I don’t want to end on a negative note so let me reiterate: this collection was STUN. NING. Plus there were some others I’ve talked about in this post that I’m sure will make it into my top 20 in the final part, Jacquemus, Dion Lee and Etro for sure; we even got some gorgeous pieces from Maria Grazia which I thought was a sentence I’d never type out. Have I said enough to not leave a bad taste in the mouth of anyone who read to the end of this post? I hope so, lol! TBH, it’s impressive given everything that’s going on that the majority of designers did roll out collections in September as usual so serious respect to them and their design teams for that.

In the next post, I’ll fingers crossed be able to include everything from Kim Shui (exciting!) through to at least Off-White (actually pretty good this time?!) and make this whole thing a 4 parter before getting straight on top of the photo posts I’m thinking about doing for the time being for the F/W21 shows. So as usual, if you did read to the end thank you so much and I respect the perseverance you must have to get through all my rambling, lmao. Hope everyone is well and coping okay and again, my inbox is always open for any post suggestions, constructive criticism, or just a chat for anyone who needs a listening ear.

Big love and thank you again!

Lauren x

[norcalbruja]

Things are not ideal for me right now

What’s up, so I had yet another argument with my mom today. I had to go lie down and vent about it to the spirits. I ended up begging them to find SOME way to get my writing off the ground, so I could move into my own place by the end of the year. Then I can finally be alone and not get constantly reminded by people that I'm bad at housework, and remembering stuff, and all those “regular people” things that my mom and sister are just fine with.

Because LUCKY ME, I live in California where a regular fucking 1-to-2-bedroom house can cost a million dollars or MORE now. And while writing and theater has never been easy, it’s been especially bad with the pandemic.

I wore myself out a couple years ago by trying to get my writing noticed the regular way with social-media, and eventually I quit posting much about my work because I barely got any readers AT ALL, let alone people who give me feedback like I kept begging them to. (GUESS HOW MAD I WAS when I found out that literally all of the “standard” marketing advice is bullshit. I spammed Tumblr and Twitter and Facebook for nothing, isn’t that great???)

So yeah, while I vastly advocate trying mundane options before asking the spirits for help, I don’t know how I can get a writing career or earn a million dollars the “mundane” way, especially not in these times.

Which led me, in my “desperate / enraged” double-whammy of a bad mindset, to go and ask Laho the moon-eater for help.

This is not the first time. I asked him in February because I was just fucking TIRED of being stuck at home and having my writing going nowhere, and how asking the other spirits just doesn’t seem to be working.

---

So for context: Laho the Moon-Eater is a dragon in Filipino / Tagalog mythology. He causes eclipses by coming out of the deep ocean and trying to eat the sun/moon. He actively dislikes when I call him a “god” because he insists that the anito/gods have to CARE ABOUT PEOPLE, regardless of power-level, and he is a DRAGON.

He acknowledges that dragons frequently overlap WITH gods, especially in Asian / Filipino mythology, but he told me that it’s a case-by-case thing and sometimes dragons just identify as Level 10 Nature-Spirits. Which is kind of trippy when Laho constantly takes human form and looks/acts almost like Dark Bakura, what with his long white hair, his deathly pale skin, and his dickish and blunt personality. He also has a glowing “aura” that none of the other anito seem to have, even the actual sun and moon deities. I think it's either “deep-sea bio-luminescence” or “side-effects from constantly trying to eat the sun/moon.”

And uh. That comparison to DARK Bakura is not an idle one, because for me, Laho is almost on Loki levels of "Engage With Heavy Caution.” Loki and I barely get along after several years of not being able to stand each other, and after one piece of advice from Loki that went So Damn Badly, he told me we can have a do-over later on. Laho is just damn unpredictable because sometimes he comes over to tell me about stuff, but sometimes he drags me out of my meditation without even asking “hey are you busy??? I found something cool!” first.

On the other hand, Laho is not a proper “Trickster” like Loki is, so he’s not trying to curse me or anything. That involves caring enough about one random, half-trained spirit-worker to like... intentionally damage her, and Laho Does Not Care About People.

Keep in mind that while I am NOT doing formal “magic / spellwork,” thank the gods, general consensus from the other spirits is “Do Not Try This At Home.” Fuck, now that I've calmed down, *I* don’t even like asking Laho for basic goals, but... I don’t know who else I can ask.

The rest of it is behind the “Read More” heading for heavy desperation, depression, and Not Safe For Work subjects.

---

So today after my latest argument with Mom, I went to my room to lie down and get a grip on my Seething Rage And Desperation, but as mentioned before, I just ended up begging the spirits, “GET ME OUT OF HERE, PLEASE. I JUST WANT A HOUSE AND AN ART CAREER. GET ME OUT OF HERE, PLEASE, I’M BEGGING YOU.”

And my attempts to calm down didn’t work so much that Spirit-Me’s heart just... split open from the stress, apparently. The last time that happened was when I was high as hell on a whole weed cookie, and I started thinking the world was going to end. (Long story short, that was Loki’s Extremely Bad Advice. Yes, the spirits remembered that. No, they were not happy that I was sober this time.)

So there’s Spirit-Me, screaming and bleeding all over the damn place while Odin and the other spirits are trying to 1) stitch me back up and 2) assure me that I’m not a TOTAL failure, but I was not in the space to listen, so once I was mostly-not-bleeding, I just ran off to the spirit-ocean and found Laho.

Generally when I’m desperate enough to ask Laho for help, I end up having sex with him as a trade.

Because, at risk of repeating myself, I’m broke. In a lot more ways than “money.” I’m say I’m a half-trained spirit-worker, but if you count FILIPINO spirit-work, it’s even less. I barely even speak Tagalog, so I wouldn’t know any spells or high-end offerings to give the spirits. I don’t know what the fuck else I can trade for help, besides having sex.

I don’t even have an altar to put offerings ON, because my mom’s place has a Catholic altar and I sure as hell won’t leave food meant for pagan spirits there. I share my regular food with the spirits, and then I eat it after a few minutes.

But like... remember how Spirit-Me’s heart just split open from stress, and how I was about to have sex, which is generally Very Strenuous in both worlds? Yeah, not only did my heart split back open, I’m pretty sure me and Laho didn’t do anything resembling “spiritual foreplay” either, because Spirit-Me started bleeding down there, too.

And it’s like, Laho is not a good role model for the MORAL side of “a crying woman is asking me for help and trying to have sex,” but the Filipino spirits are extremely open about sex by itself. Even Laho prides himself on having REALLY good sex if someone comes up to him for it, because humans and involved spirits are the ones who mess shit up with “feelings” and “consent” and “maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

But he knows that humans shouldn’t be leaking gallons of blood, so once that started, he stopped. And then he assured the extremely angry anito that he only knows why I’m bleeding from ONE place, but he didn’t expect that much, and the chest wound is not from him.

Spirit-Me was now slightly WORSE than when I started—my chest hurt and my downstairs half hurt, and while I was flailing in a pool of my own blood, and begging the spirits for a steady income and a basic house, my mouth started bleeding, so now Orifice #3 Is Leaking Too Much Red Stuff.

So, I needed Freyja AND Brighid to come fix it. Brighid says that my issues are manifesting as “spiritual ulcers.” Freyja has gently advised me that given the shit that happened today, I should avoid spirit-intercourse for the next few days and seriously take it easy for other types of sex.

And weirdly enough, once everyone cleared out to give me a break from the events, the Morrigan came up and told me that she loved me, and I could ask her for help if I wasn’t too tired. She also told me that she is the goddess of sovereignty, and I don’t ask her for nearly enough things. So... yeah, I asked her for help with getting an art career and buying my own house, so I could help fix the damn planet by the end of this year, 2021.

See, the Morrigan is my patron goddess and she has been extremely hands-off in the past few years. While she DOES relegate herself to “spiritual bodyguard for the squishy writer,” sometimes she comes up and tells me she loves me, unprompted. Especially when I’m... not in a good space AT ALL, like today.

I wonder if my soul is dying, or in a LOT of trouble. Honestly, I’m not surprised. I told the spirits a while back that my soul will die if I’m stuck in this rut for much longer, where I’m not a successful artist, and so I have to live with my family, who I can’t really get along with.

I'm not good at anything besides art. Either my head just doesn’t fucking work properly for most jobs, or random shit goes wrong with basic tasks, or I end up hating the job and wishing that I could just DO ART FOR A LIVING.

The only way I can see to fix things is get an art career and move into my own place, so I don’t bother anyone and they don’t have to deal with my weirdness. But HOW THE FUCK am I gonna find a million dollars for a basic house, when I can’t even get enough people to read my stuff???

And that, followers, is why I'm up at midnight after exhausting Spirit-World shenanigans.

[secret-engima]

Today has been a really bad pain day. Could I beg a hc or drabble to brighten mood please? Also, did tumblr eat my last two asks or have you just not gotten to them? That's fine if so, but I know tumblr can be hungry at times so wanted to check.

Awww I’m sorry to hear that (and that I missed this ask, this is what I get for not logging in for the day). Lemme see what I can do that isn’t Angsty.....

Let’s have some nice Nyxsuke HCs since that’s my newest AU bby (hope you don’t mind). And also yes, I got both your asks, I just haven’t gotten to them yet. :D

...

-Nyx ends up adopting Tenzō (aka Captain Yamato) surprisingly early on. The Anbu kinda .... inserted himself into a Bad Situation on Nyx’s behalf without orders and then kept sneakily coming to check on him, but Nyx is a Galahdian and could tell someone was watching him. They kinda ... get used to each other over time. Interact in secret with Tenzō trying vainly to remain unattached and failing and Nyx watching this Awkward Masked Death Ninja and going ... mine now.

-Eventually (not sure when just yet) Nyx corners Tenzō (who he still doesn’t even know the name of yet, but that’s Ulrics for you) and quietly asks permission to touch his hair. Tenzō is baffled but lets it happen and Nyx weaves in a Clan braid with two beads. The bottom bead is Ulric purple, as is traditional, but Nyx adds in a bead in the middle of the braid that is a soft leaf green. Watchfulness and Loyalty. It fits his mostly silent friend.

-Tenzō is confused by Nyxsuke’s actions until the boy pulls back with a satisfied noise and shows Tenzō the braid in a mirror. It’s hidden behind Tenzō’s ear where it won’t get in the way or really be noticeable, so it’s not like it will be a detriment on missions, but he still doesn’t get why Sasuke did it.

-Until the little Uchiha looks up at him, pulls his own purple-beaded and ribboned braid to show Tenzō and solemnly says, “This is a Clan braid. It means we’re family.”

-And Tenzō feels like someone just punched all the air out of his lungs.

-It’s not a formal adoption, of course, Sasuke is a child during this (probably pre-genin? Not sure how soon before canon) and there’s no way the Hokage would let Sasuke just randomly adopt an Anbu, especially a former Root but ...

-But this is different. This MEANS something. This means something to Sasuke, who has worn those braids of his for years and been very wary about anyone else touching them. This isn’t an official thing, but it’s a GENUINE thing. A genuine want to have TENZŌ (who hasn’t even told Sasuke his name, who technically isn’t even supposed to be interacting with Sasuke let alone this often) as ... as FAMILY.

-Behind his mask, Tenzō is an Emotion.

...

Some more Nyxsuke HCs:

-The world learns to fear Nyx’s sealing skills. Especially when he’s experimenting on new ones. Those who knew the Uchiha of Before are astounded by the destruction and recklessness, those who knew Uzumaki before (particularly Kushina) are all privately like- are we SURE that Naruto is Kushina’s kid and not Sasuke? Are we SURE that Mikoto wasn’t just covering for her husbands infidelity by henging a baby bump for nine months?? Are we REALLY TRULY SURE????

-The 1 non-Uchiha nurse who was there for the event: yes. Yes we’re sure. No, we don’t know how Sasuke is Like This either.

-Eventually everyone comes to the conclusion that Sasuke is like- Uchiha Crazy, it just manifested in a really weird way.

-Neji will probably end up getting adopted by Nyx, but not before Much Buttkicking. Hinata is your baby cousin. How DARE you.

-Then Nyx learns of the source of all Neji’s issues, and yeah he’s still mad at Neji, but now he has a whole new target for his Wrath that takes precedence.

-Nyx: Hinata dear I’m off to single handedly fight all your terrible relatives.

-Hinata: Please don’t.

-Also Nyxsuke is gonna freak out so many people with his personality. Like- yes he can be serious and yes he’s reserved around non-Clan/fellow soldiers, but Ulric/Kingsglaive reserved is nothing like Traditional Uchiha Reserved. This Nyxsuke SMILES. He tells sarcastic jokes and he LAUGHS.

-He’s also the Smollest, most Reckless Bean ever, even with Naruto as a comparison.

-Kakashi is a Suffer. Why is his team like this. What did he do to deserve- okay check that what did he do RECENTLY to deserve this. Like- in the last two and a half days.

- Nyx: *finds the Forest of Death Training Ground with all its poisonous things, giant beasts and bugs and terrible Death Aura*

-Also Nyx: *sniffling with joy and spreading out his arms* I have found my homeland. I’m going to move here. This shall be my home now.

-Kakashi: Haha very fun- oi where are you going SASUKE DON’T GO IN THERE DON’T YOU DARE-.

[norafike]

Despite all this, I still love you 13

Finally got around to updating this for y’all! Hope you’re all enjoying it and I walk like to apologise for the long wait. It’s more up-to-date on my AO3 but I will continue our Tumblr updates.

*******

“Dutch.” Nora greeted the infamous outlaw humbly, walking with him into the old house at Shady-Belle. Inside they met with Arthur and John, who looked no better since she had last seen him. “We were hopin' you could assist us in Saint Denis.” The leader explained and she raised a brow to push him to explain what he meant.

“How?”

“Angelo Bronte, you heard of him?” She nodded. “What about him?”

“The Braithwaite's gave young Jack to him. So we're going to get the boy back.”

“Angelo Bronte, huh.” Nora shook her head in disbelief, pulling the sleeves of her shirt down over her hands. “Guess I should've expected as much.”

“Will you help us?” John Marston sounded sad than the usual manner, she grew used to his snappy way of talking but he had lost his son. “Of course.”

“Thank you.”

In front of Dutch at the table was a map of Saint-Denis that she recognised well, it was outdated as the majority of the slums which were a later addition to the city hadn't been marked yet, but surely she noticed the mansion district and the very spot where Bronte lived. She pointed at the shape on the map, tapping it gently. “That's where our man lives.” She explained before running her finger along what was meant to supposed to be the roads. “Nearest bridge into Saint Denis, to us, is down here and we just need to follow the one road to get to his mansion.”

Dutch watched intently as she planned out the route and found himself impressed with her knowledge on the city, wanting to hear more she knew he had asked about any other important locations in Saint Denis for *future projects. “Don't know what interests you boys, we got a graveyard here and the trolley station down there.” She pointed at the spot and then dragged her finger up towards one final box marked on the map. “This, I believe, is the Lemoyne National Bank.”

“Bank?” His eyes lit up at the word and he leaned closer to the map, taking in the area closely to remember the layout of the streets to get there. “You heard correctly, Mr. Van Der Linde.”

“I say we wait until night for Jack, to arouse less suspicion.”

Arthur and John agreed but Dutch had a lack of interest in what she had to say, muttering a few words but really his eyes only remained on the paper. She spared a moment to glance towards Arthur who could only give a small shrug before leaving the house with John in tow. Nora prepared to speak with him but was cut off when a frantic Molly stepped in, looking more frantic than the usual and desperate for Dutch's attention. “Dutch, can I talk with you for a moment?” He frowned, pinching the bridge of his knows and squeezing his eyes tight. “I'm busy right now, Miss O'Shea.”

“You don't look busy.” Her eyes travelled to focus Nora who stood awkwardly in the room, excusing herself to leave but being stopped when Molly had grabbed hold of her wrist. “It's always gotta be about you, Molly O'Shea. You've had all this time to talk to me and you choose now.”

“I've not had any time because you're always so busy.”

“Whatever, Miss.” He pushed past the females, making an effort to push Nora behind him so he was standing before Molly. He towered over the female in comparison and shrouded her in his shadow to intimidate but she kept her ground and balled her hands into a tight fist. “I have work to do, something you don't know how to do yourself.” And with that final word the man walked away to leave them alone inside.

Nora couldn't believe just how cruel Dutch could be and it confirmed her earlier suspicions over the male, a source to not be trusted. “Forget about him, Molly.”

“It's easier said than done, Nora and I doubt you know what any of it feels like.”

“I don't, but I know people don't need to face that sort of shit. He's a bully it seems.” Molly squeezed her eyes shut to keep some tears from falling and raised her hand to dismiss the female, using fingers to wipe away a few stray tears. “Look you need someone to talk too, I'll be there an' you can write anytime.”

“Thank you.”

“I should get goin', see ya Molly.”

She left the house and frowned at the thick air, it somehow being a lot more thinner indoors. Relocating her may have been a poor decision solely based on how much warmer the territory was and Nora had to fan herself with her hand to cool down every-so-often otherwise she felt she was going to fate. She wondered how Bill or Arthur, even Lenny on occasion were able to walk around with their coats on.

“Howdy cowpoke.” She had found Kieran near the horses, his natural habitat and decided to stand near him while he ran the horse brush against Branwen. He smiled upon recognising her voice and turned slightly to face her, never faltering on his chore. “Mornin'!” He cheered.

“Seem a lot happier than usual. What happened?”

“Nothin' exciting.. guess started to slowly feel I belong. A lot of 'em started bein' nice.”

“You don't sound so nervous when ya talk too.” He chuckled and nodded slowly. “No, I do not.”

“I think I may be stayin' a little while and thought to keep my favourite cowboy some company.” She teased and Kieran smiled at the compliment, pulling out an apple from inside his coat pocket and handing it to her to feed the horse; as told by his pointing towards the creature. “Sure I just saw Arthur approach Pearson's chuck wagon. Probably be where you'll find your favourite cowboy.”

“Real funny.”

“Or you'll find Lem.” He paused to think. “Where would you find him?”

Nora shrugged, unsure of the answer herself. “Guess is as good as mine. When he ain't at the shack he's at my camp and when he ain't there he's at the shack.. but when he's neither, well it's hard to find him.”

“He ever say where he goes?”

“Not unless asked, but we don't ask him often.”

Kieran finished brushing the dirt from Branwen's coat before turning the brush towards Nora with a playful grin. “Your turn.” She chuckled, taking a step back from him. “You're gonna have to bathe first I'm afraid.”

“Oh, how funny.”

“I pride myself on my.. comedic nature.”

Kieran looked behind him and gave Mary-Beth a gentle wave once he realised she had been looking his way and once he did so the girl flushed a bright red before looking away, digging her nose into the pages of her book that sat open in her lap. “You're goin' with Dutch to rescue Jack, right?”

“Yes.” She answered, helping him out by picking up a bucket of dirty water not far from where they stood. He led them over to the wagons furthest from the hitching station and the pair talked quietly amongst themselves as they crossed camp; ignoring the odd looks sent their way from one person in specific. Everyone else seemed far too occupied to worry about the O'Driscoll, after all, he didn't feel like one to them anymore.

“How's the readin' going?” She asked to be polite and once before she had asked and he looked annoyed when she did so, but this time he gave her a bright smile. “It's okay.. doin' a lot better than a few months ago.”

She shared the joy with him and bounced on her toes and clapped her hands together simultaneously. “That's great, Kieran! I'd have to buy you a drink sometime to celebrate.”

“I doubt I'll drink, who knows what'll happen.”

“Nothin' bad might wake up the next day feelin' terrible but that's the worse of it.”

“We'll see I guess.”

She dumped the water out on the grass, a decent distance away from camp and returned back to the grounds. Kieran had waited by an old shack trying to light a match but failing in his attempts to do so. “Here.” She took it from his hands, her fingers brushing against his before striking it to alight. He held the cigarette out to her and waited for her to light it and once she had done she waved the flame out.

“When are you leavin'?”

“Eager to get rid of me?”

“Maybe.” He joked and Nora took to gently patting his shoulder. “Lovely, ain't ya?”

...

John and Dutch set out for Saint Denis days a few hours before they had, saying that they would keep an eye on the place before actually going in with their demands. They had no idea who they were going up against after all.

She left Shady-Belle last and made haste to the mansion district in the city, unaware of where the men could be waiting for her as they hadn't set an official meeting spot prior but it didn't take a drastic amount of searching to be able to find them, given they had sat in the community garden opposite and Dutch wasn't quiet when he talked to the men, instructing John to remain calm and for Arthur to keep a close eye on the situation...

She walked up the path to greet them and Arthur gave a gentle nod when he saw her and quickly the men rose from sitting on the steps; ready to talk with Bronte.

“Remember, we don't wanna go gun's blazin'.” Dutch warned them as they approached the gate. “Could risk harmin' Jack if we do.”

Upon finishing their walk, Nora noticed the guards all lined up along the path armed with guns and looking mean. They didn't seem pleased with the close proximity they were in and less so when Dutch had called over one particular guard to stand at the gate so they could talk.

“Run along now.” He muttered and the guard scurried off after he *negotiated with him. Dutch did momentarily tell him to return just so he could give back the taken gun and then they were told to follow on inside to speak with Bronte himself.

As soon as she stepped inside the house she was choked with the thick smell of fragrance and for a moment she could swear that they had walked into a greenhouse instead of someone's home.

The man himself sat surrounded by guards in a parlour, dressed in robes and drinking a glass of wine.

“Where is his son?” Dutch didn't jump to formalities and Angelo Bronte looked far from pleased as they cut straight to the point.

“Excuse me?”

And Dutch repeated himself, pointing at John. “Where is his son?” Bronte scowled at the forward approach and called over one of his guards to whisper something in his ear. Nora was told not to go in and start shooting but with the way things seemed to be turning out she began to worry that they would need to switch their approach.

“Who do you think you are, coming into my home with these demands and stinkin' of shit.” Nora's hand to move just above her revolver and Arthur moved in front of her to grip her wrist and not bring suspicion her way; he would let go if they needed to use it.

Bronte continued telling Dutch off while the three remained standing around in awkward silence.

“I like you-” Angelo raised a cigar and pointed his fingers in the direction of the man his smile big and yet sinister. “I do, I do like you. Please have a seat men and.. lady.”

The three on the seat took up all the space so unless she were to on one of their laps she chose to lean against an arm and balance herself there, sitting close to Arthur who looked equally as uncomfortable.

“I'll tell you what, you can have the boy back.” John's face lit up. “But I have.. a request.”

Arthur groaned and leaned forward, clasping his hands together in front of him and biting back the need to swear at the Italian. “What is it?” She asked, not shy to hide the frustration in her voice.

“There are graverobbers in the graveyard.”

“Well, that is a good place for it, the best.” Dutch quipped and Bronte laughed at his joke. “I like him, I like you.”

“Just clear them out and I'll give you back the boy.”

“Of course, I can have these three go and do that and you and I can talk a little more.” Dutch stood and motioned for the trio to leave the area but Bronte called them to stop. “Why doesn't the lady stay? I'm sure she wouldn't want to associate herself with those types of thieves.”

“Oh, I should really make sure these pair stay out of trouble.” She cut in quickly but Bronte wasn't having any of it, further insisting that she stay. Dutch placed his palm on the female's shoulder and his grip tightened ever so slightly. “I'm sure you can part with Arthur for a few minutes, Mrs Morgan.”

She raised a brow at the use of 'Mrs' but didn't want to raise any alarm regarding it. She nodded slowly and sat back down on the chair, with walking behind her. “Young couples, never can be apart.” He commented. “Never did see any use for marriage myself, but that didn't stop these two.” And now she was parading as a married woman.

“Oh, you are married?” Bronte asked Nora specifically, pouring bourbon into a glass and handing it to her. She took a sip and was about to answer his question before Dutch cut it. “To Arthur, yes.”

“Well, congratulations.”

Bronte clicked his fingers together and one of his bodyguards walked over; leaning down so the man could whisper in his ear. She tried listening to what he said but unfortunately for her he spoke in Italian possibly so they could not decipher what instructions he passed on.

“I wish for you to stay and chat awhile, but I am a busy man no? And I am sure that your husband and his friend will be back soon.” Bronte stood to escort them out, having one of his men hold the door open in politeness. Dutch turned, ready to ask about the boy before Jack ran down the stairs to join them.

“Uncle Dutch!” He cheered running to his side and the gang's leader crouched low to greet the boy before taking his hand and walking him outside. “Where's mama?” The boy asked but Dutch was reluctant to answer at first, only keeping an eye on the armed men that lined the gravel driveway towards the mansion.

She sat on the steps with him and distracted him long enough for the men to arrive and when John did return through the gates the boy took off and ran into his hands, this bright smile on his face. “How did it go?” Arthur asked Dutch and Nora specifically but neither provided a coherent answer, besides the subtle comment she made about them being married now.

“Excuse me?”

“My thoughts exactly.” She chuckled, walking around to Casper and mounting up alongside the men. “Will you be returning to camp with us, Nora?” Dutch asked as he took lead on The Count. “Not sure. If you wish me too then I see no harm in joinin' you fella's.”

“Please come with us, Nora.” Jack begged, his bright eyes silently pleading the woman to join them. Dutch scratched his nose, tilting his head over towards Jack. “It seems that the boy has spoken.”

“Alright, guess I will be goin' then.” Jack cheered and it livened up the evening for the group and having him back would mean that this turned to be the end of a very bad and stressful week.

...

“Abigail!” John hollered and the woman cave rushing over at the mention of her name, she faltered in her steps when she noticed her child in his arms and in no time broke into a sprint to reunite with her child.

“You got my boy back! You got him back.. thank you, thank you all.” She blinked away a few happy tears and quickly rushed the boy into camp and soon Dutch had departed while he told his dear best friend, Hosea of their little adventure. Nora turned towards John who looked longingly at his family, holding a cigarette between his lips. “Go over and sit with them, Marston.” She said and he nodded as if she were giving a command. He scurried off.

“So we're married?” Arthur asked as he escorted the female back into Shady-Belle's grounds.

“I was just as shocked too.”

“Who's idea was that?”

“Dutch's, I don't know why he said it or where it came from but Angelo Bronte didn't seem thrilled when we brought it up.”

Javier began to play a song on his guitar, one recognised well by the gang who all cheered once the first note was played. “That's a shame.”

“As much as it's been an honour, bein' your pretend-wife I am afraid that I am spoken for by someone else.”

“You are, are you?”

“Nope.” Nora chuckled lowly, scuffing the dirt up with her boot. “But I have eyes for someone.”

“Well I respect that, ma'am. I should leave you to get on with the party however, enjoy yourself.”

He said a humble goodbye before returning to his room for the night, deciding that he had enough excitement for the day.

She spotted Kieran sulking near the chuckwagon and decided that he was who she wished to take with for the evening, especially since he was one of the rare decent men around. She walked over and joined him at the table, offering a liquor bottle she picked up on the way. “How are ya?”

“I'm fine.” He mumbled and she noticed in the low light how his cheeks had flushed a red. “Good job on gettin' Jack back. Must've been fun.”

“Guess that could be said.” Nora brought the bottle to her lips and took a sip of the beverage, cringing at the bitter taste. “Didn't take too much work and nobody needed to die.”

“Well you got the kid back, it's w-what matters.” Gone was that confidence from before. The man took a long drink from the bottle, despite his earlier refusal to do so and she watched with curiosity, wondering what had happened while she was out. “Did somethin' happen to you?”

“No.” Kieran said bluntly. She didn't believe it, narrowing her eyes is suspicious before diverting her gaze over towards the scout fire where some members of the gang sat, unfortunately for her she met eyes with Micah Bell and he gave her a wicked grin that chilled her to the bone.

“Listen, I'm gonna talk to Mary-Beth for a short while. You need me I'll try not to stray too far from camp.”

Kieran nodded slowly. “G-Guess I'll do the same.”

Nora placed a palm on his cheek, running her thumb along the top of his beard before pulling away. He leaned into her touch and the minute it had gone he pouted like some child. Kieran moved to longingly watch her as she walked away from him to enter the old building, taking note of how she lingered in the doorway for a little too long before eventually disappearing indoors. “You got it bad for her too don't ya?”

Kieran shook his head to deny these claims, but Hosea only laughed as he saw through the blatant lie. “Jus' keep ya head on your shoulders an' everything will be alright.” He left Kieran alone after that and all he could do was sulk in his spot, both annoyed and confused with his feelings and how he struggled to come to terms with them. Nora was sweet and spoke more to him than anybody else, he always looked forward to her visits as they not only meant that he wouldn't be alone for a prolonged period but also because he could have a conversation with someone who thought of him as an equal and not some vermin. “How'd you end up in this mess, Duffy?” He muttered to himself, taking to drink again from the bottle and slowly he slipped into a dazed state of drunkness and tomorrow he would most likely regret his decision to so foolishly drink.

[liskantope]

A response to Aella’s essay “The Responsibility Narrative”

I initially planned to quickly link to this piece @aellagirl put up a few days ago just to highlight it as a piece of writing containing ideas that I’ve tried to express for a while (longer-time followers know that the whole agency/responsibility topic is right up my alley) and to thank her for expressing them so much more elegantly and from a much more powerful point of view. Then I noticed a bunch of points I wanted to pick apart a bit (while I overall really like this post there are some places where I think she goes a bit further than I do or just want to respond to in other ways). Also, it seems that she turned comments off for that post or something, so I guess this post is my way of dropping a (very long and slightly erratic) comment under hers while at the same time linking my Tumblr followers to her piece and providing a response.

I’ll start by saying that I really envy the author’s writing skills, in the sense that Aella seems to have an uncanny ability to put forth highly controversial theses that many would take offense to in an eloquent, concise, and direct manner (I might even go as far as to say “blunt”), and yet manages to do this in a way that facilitates in the audience opening one’s mind and listening rather than taking offense or feeling attacked. This is something I’ve noticed for a long time in her writing. An example is her piece on monogamists rejecting polyamory out of fear, where her thesis is one that I strongly disagree with and may well have responded to with resentment if it had been displayed by any other writer. I wish I knew how to emulate this. From time to time I argue positions that are controversial and potentially threatening or angering to some, but in my writing there’s all this hemming and hawing and insertions of softening qualifications and so on which can often make those essays look like sloppy messes by comparison in which my central point is nearly lost amid all the carefulness.

As for the actual content, first of all, I’m always happy to see someone else writing things like this:

Responsibility is weird. Ultimately there’s no free will and agency is a trick of the light, but we seem to have particular rules for when and where we throw responsibility at something. Sometimes we throw responsibility at the environment, and sometimes at the person.

...and I’m especially happy to see this (as most people in my vicinity have seemed to shy away from describing the Left vs. Right divide in this way or agreeing with me when I did):

Responsibility placement seems to occur along political divides, too. Conservatives see everyone holding their own glowing ball of responsibility, while liberals see the responsibility in the environment and the cruel, unchangeable past.

Aella’s views on how we assign free will (or responsibility, which after all is treated by most as equivalent to free will) in practice is the same view as mine and seems to be pretty much the universally-agreed-upon way forward on the pragmatic side, at least judging from the (admittedly very limited) set of people whose writing on that question I’ve read. I wish there were a way to translate that pragmatic solution to a metaphysical one that we could all agree on -- I think my solution is to say that “free will” is just a word that we have no choice but to define according to the pragmatic solution because any attempts at a more “cosmic” definition are in fact meaningless. Perhaps Aella would differ by emphasizing the term “responsibility” in place of where I used “free will” in the sentence above, as after all she does call free will nonexistent and agency “a trick of the light” -- that view seems equivalent to mine for pretty much all means and purposes, though.

And as for “if someone is very lazy, shouting at them to be less lazy sometimes works”, well yes, although a key word there is “sometimes”.

Then we get to the much more controversial thesis of the essay, which is initially presented with “In my old society, men were formally and strongly given the glowing ball of responsibility... [which] sucked bad enough that I don’t think being a woman was worse than being a man.” On first reading, I’m pretty sure I misread that last bit to instead say, “I don’t think being a woman was as bad as being a man”. When just now I read the phrase correctly, my eyebrows didn’t raise quite as high as before, but they’re still raised a little bit. Because while I’m really glad that the author is presenting this alternative view and wish more people could be exposed to it and take it seriously, I still lean fairly strongly towards believing that on the whole it was still better to be a man.

(In this and what follows, I do want to point out that the author is considerably more qualified than I am to speculate on such things given her experience as a woman who actually grew up imprisoned in an ultra-conservative community; however, let me offer my own speculation based on my general impression of how humans react to power and responsibility.)

The author comes across to me as emphasizing the seductiveness of believing that fault lies not in oneself but in the environment while seeming to ignore the potentially negative effects of such a belief, or equivalently, the benefits of feeling a sense of personal responsibility. Yes, the essay highlights the (very obvious) benefits of having power, thus drawing a rough equivalence between the benefits of power and the benefits of not being assigned responsibility in a society where men hold most of the power and most of the responsibility, but I’m talking about how the holding responsibility part comes with psychological benefits along with the psychological disadvantages. Namely, in my view and in my experience, feeling a sense of responsibility is empowering, while feeling a lack of responsibility or agency is certainly easier in many ways but also comes with a sense of weakness and helplessness that can create a lot of depressed feelings. As I remember reading once in an advice article (whose title and author I don’t remember), “It’s easy to be miserable.” In the context of that article, I think its author was trying to say that a lot of misery arises from a failure to take responsibility, which is seductive because of how easy it is... but of course, due to the being miserable part, that deal definitely isn’t better than one where one feels empowered through the weight of responsibility to not have to be so miserable.

(Rereading what I’ve written here the following day, my words in the above paragraph look like contradictory nonsense in the context of the essay I’m responding to: it may sound like I’m saying “Aella is wrong to equate the benefits of lesser responsibility with the benefits or greater power, because carrying lesser responsibility also comes with the disadvantage of having lesser power.” But this is because I’m struggling to make a clear distinction in words between power in the sense of institutional power or authority to make decisions -- the power that Aella refers to -- and the feeling of personal empowerment in the sense of being able to tolerate or withstand adversity. I’m saying that a direct negative consequence of not carrying the ball of responsibility is a feeling of personal weakness that comes with it, which is fairly separate from the fact that lesser responsibility tends to be correlated with less society-bestowed power. Perhaps I’m slightly confounded here by viewing everything primarily through the lens of modern times, where differences in concrete society-bestowed power have mostly disintegrated and a lot of the oppression that activists complain about boils down to some adversity being intolerable mental-health-wise. Not sure if this edited-in aside clarifies my position or makes it even more muddled.)

This is not to say that in practice people don’t choose the less-responsibility route far more often than taking the glowing ball of responsibility. They do, I believe increasingly as our society becomes more socially progressive, and the younger generations recently seem to be embracing a norm of doing it more than ever. And that’s in large part because in a certain sense, it is the easier path. But that doesn’t mean they’re better off psychologically for it. Here let me try my hand at saying something potentially offensive very concisely and directly *deep breath*: the people I know who are most committed to shooing away that ball of responsibility -- the “environment-changers” as Aella might call them or the low-agency-goggle-wearers as I might call them -- the ones who go to the most extreme deep end in that direction tend on the whole to be the most bitter and frustrated, the most terrified of life in general, and the least emotionally or psychologically healthy people I’ve known, to an extent that I don’t think can fully be directly explained by the disadvantages that were handed to them.

As for Aella’s observation that on average men tend to have a more high-agency mentality while women tend to have a more low-agency one... yes, this has certainly occurred to me although I don’t think I’ve ever noted it in writing -- for some reason, I hesitate to feel fully convinced. I still lean towards claiming that the tribe one belongs to is a bigger factor here than gender, but it certainly makes sense that gender is a factor, and her observation does jive with my experience.

Now we get to the part about the Gillette ad, and again I can’t bring myself to go as far as the essay does. I should probably write another post describing a fuller reaction to the ad. As a response to the essay, I would argue that the author is making a point I strongly agree with about modern feminism in general (perhaps it can be applied to some other wings of SJ but far less so since for most other axes of oppression the reality really is something much closer to members of one group directly oppressing the members of another), but that the Gillette ad is not really a great example of this.

I understand “toxic masculinity” in this context to refer to certain behaviors traditionally associated with masculinity that are harmful but still encouraged or normalized for men in our culture. I agree that the ad places responsibility for fixing toxic masculinity solely on men and that this is an overly-simplistic judgment (although to some extent a statement that brief has to be simplistic). I also have some of my own issues with the ad. But sometimes the solution to overturning a cultural norm for a particular group really does almost exclusively rest on the shoulders of that group.

Aella states near the end of the essay, “Women reinforced gender roles just as much, if not more, than the men did.” My personal impression is a variant of this: I think it always has been and continues to be the case that women are the primary enforcers of female gender roles (including some of the most oppressive ones to live under) while men are the primary enforcers of male gender roles. In other words, gender roles are policed most heavily among one’s own gender group. That would imply in this case that many of the traditionally-male behaviors brought up in the ad -- physical aggression, sexual harassment, objectification of women and so on -- are reinforced in men primarily by other men. This strongly jives with my personal experience: it’s never been girls and women in my life who shamed me for not being fiercely competitive about something or for not picking fights or for not being aggressive enough at approaching women for dating/sex. In my life, it’s almost exclusively other guys that have. Of course I’m not saying that these masculine norms are entirely not enforced by women -- in particular, objectification of women arguably is perpetuated on a certain level by some subset of the female population. But I think by and large women tend to promote values for everyone of all genders which are the opposite of the uglier traditionally-masculine norms: diplomacy, sensitivity, gentleness, and so on.

And one corollary of men being the main perpetrators of “toxic masculinity” behavior among fellow men is that the most effective way to push things in the opposite direction is for men to start pushing other men away from these behaviors (”Not cool, dude!”). Which is exactly what the Gillette ad is preaching.

[nathsketch]

Answer Time!

Hey dears! Sorry it’s taking me so long to reply to your questions but I always want to take some time to answer them properly and hopefully provide some insights that may help you in the future! Here is a very long reply and long overdue to fellow artist Archie, from Indonesia!

“Hi, Mrs. Erica, It's nice to know you. I've seen your artworks on your website and they're all awesome, great post, love your artworks, keep it up. Oh yeah, first of all, let me introduce myself. My name's Archie. I'm 23 years old and I'm from Indonesia. I'm currently graduated from visual communication design major (concentrated in animation) in 2017. Currently, I worked as a freelance in different fields. I do animation, illustration, photography, cinematography, and video editing, but I want to focus my career on animation, concept art and illustration. By the way, if you don't mind, or if you have a time, can I ask you some questions about concept art or illustration?”

1. Do you have any tips/advice to make a professional illustration portfolio for applying to studios/company (especially for a fresh graduate)?

The timing for this question is indeed excellent because I’m currently working on my own portfolio! The main advice would be to set a goal for it: story, visual development, character design, lighting etc. In other words, what do you want to achieve with that project? After you defined the purpose of your portfolio, you need to organize your ideas, try to refine them as much as you can so you end up with a clear plan of what is going to be created during the coming weeks/months. For example, my focus and my main interest is visual development and character design, so when I chose my portfolio themes (A Series of Unfortunate Events and The Lord of the Rings) I had to spend a lot of time trying to narrow down the countless ideas that these impossibly rich books brought to my mind to a reasonable number of artworks that hopefully will help me get a job in these areas in the future. Lists are very helpful at this moment. Also, those wonderful “The Art of” compilations are such invaluable resources. You can learn so much from them and their insanely talented artists! Finally, I would say that patience is also a huge factor because after months of working on a project this complex and that demands so much from you, you can easily get sidetracked and lose interest or feel unmotivated, but you have to remember that this is something you’re doing because you love it and because it is absolutely possible to achieve your goal if it’s what you really really want (totally not a Spice Girls reference ha!).

2. Is it too idealistic or “picky” if I want to work as a freelance (for a long-term) than work at the office/studio? Because I feel like sometimes it’s hard to get a job for the fresh graduate. Almost every company/studios were looking for people who had a work experience while being a freelance has to interest clients from our portfolio or social media feeds to make a money. I would feel so insecure if I tend to be jobless while everyone's growing up on their career and work. Currently, I just do some daily stuff and focus on learning and practice every day and also studying from online art course while there’s no job from others.

I don’t think it’s picky nor too idealistic. I think it’s extremely important that you know exactly what you want and that you focus on achieving it not because it’s said to be the easiest path and because the alternative (being employed by a company/studio) can seem harder in comparison. Freelancing is great but it can be just as hard, and as a freelance artist myself, I can say that there will always be a lot of challenges to overcome, despite the apparent freedom to choose the jobs you want, to make your own schedule and to have your own work rhythm. I completely understand your insecurity and I do too worry about the whole work experience requirement but fortunately for us artists, the quality of our art is a determinant factor to help us get our dream jobs. I live in Brazil and the clients I’ve had so far weren’t concerned at all that I have little work experience in this area or that I’m mostly self-taught. The mere fact that you’ve found me all the way from beautiful Indonesia and were interested enough in my work to ask me these questions is an example of how our art can touch people’s lives even though we haven’t necessarily worked on a studio or have had that many professional experiences. You keep doing what you feel is better for you at the moment, keep practicing, keep learning, and above all else, keep believing in your potential to grow. It may seem difficult not to compare yourself to those incredibly famous and talented artists, especially in our social media age, where we can be easily overwhelmed and intimidated by their number of followers, likes, reblogs, retweets etc., but I read somewhere - and I completely agree with this phrase - that we cannot compare our start with someone else’s middle. It’s not a competition, it’s a journey.

3. When studying anatomy, is it very necessary to strictly learn and practice to draw the details of each part of the anatomy itself and also draw human/animal anatomy from every angle?

I wouldn’t say it’s strictly necessary but of course that a big part of being a good artist is learning how to draw a bit of everything. You don’t need to be an Andrew Loomis of anatomy but try to fit in some life drawing lessons every once in a while. No matter what your style is (realistic, cartoonish, abstract, surrealistic etc.), you will always be grateful for taking the time to learn a bit of anatomy. Drawing animal anatomy is also pretty important and I particularly love it! I never post any life drawings here but I should follow my own advice and start working more on them! I never formally studied Art before my sudden career change (more of that later). Only recently did I finish my studies in Traditional and Digital 2D Animation, just so I could have a proper degree that wasn’t related to Law, but I like to think that most of the challenges I had to face were overcome by me being self-taught. Definitely not an easy thing to do and of course I would have preferred it if I had gone to art school from the start, but I’m very grateful to know that we can pretty much do everything if we just set our minds to it.

4. When was the first time (I mean, how old are you) you started drawing and began the career as an artist? and how long do you draw a day?

Sneaky question haha! I’m a 90’s girl! I have been drawing since I was very little (three or four years old I think, or so my mum says) but in the meantime I went to Law school, I got my degree and my law license believe it or not, and I’ve only decided that I really wanted to be a professional artist about three years ago. So for me, it was a rollercoaster indeed. I didn’t have that much time to get from it being just a hobby to it becoming my livelihood. If I’m being honest, it still amazes me to think that I get paid to do what I love and that feeling is something that I always try to keep in mind when I get anxious about the future or uncertain about having left my legal career behind. So, it’s all pretty new to me too! I try to draw every day because practice and determination are the secrets, not gift or talent.

5. If you have a time, can you please take a look at my artworks and give some feedback/critics/advice (and what I need to work on). I know it’s still lack of artworks, I’ll add more of my artworks soon. I would really appreciate it. Thank you very much.

I will send you this little feedback via email!

As always, you’re very welcome to send me questions, here on Tumblr or via my site and I’ll do my best to answer the most helpful way possible!

Happy Monday!

[internet-necrosis]

Do other people get carried away like this and kinda just lose their mind?

Huge text under cut

You know I had a thought, but I was stuck fooling around with this app so much that I totally forgot it. How sad. I am currently running on very little sleep. Why do I do this to myself? I almost seem to procrastinate sleeping in a way, like I'm experiencing executive dysfunction but with a very pressing need. I just hate how unsatifying sleeping has become for me these days, and how little it seems to serve me. I hate how I lose time, considering I'm barely doing anything of worth these days already. I know a lot of subconsious dislike for myself for not having internet fame in any way, or any friends, or any money probably messes up the way I go about anything. Oh, I just remembered what I was going to say earlier. This is nice. Writing is such a nice thing. I actually really enjoy doing it and wish I could just do this and be paid somehow. I'm so tired of feeling unconfident in my writing just because I lack any formal training. Who fucking cares that I don't read books or that I don't give stupid amounts of money to corrupt institutions? Why can't my ego run free and become validated with a group of niche internet followers, not unlike a popular tumblr blog except I actually make money? I hate that I am forced to endure memorization of technical knowledge regarding how I should organize and operate. I hate that I will be seen as a lesser outsider in my structure of thinking and not as a radical or progressive writing. I hate being organized and I hate that organization is even remotely glorified. I am capable of complex thought, not complex memory. I am capable of complex interpretation; not complex regurgitation and orginization. I am a fleeting moment of interest and engagement, devoid of structure and consistency. I am death and decay, and the life subsequent. I am movement, I am flow. I am not rigid, I am so very cursed to not be rigid.

I understand if this can come across more as a childish stoner lamenting the death of their 20s and outside pressure to mature and assimilate with their peers than a strange woman ranting into the void. I hate to say it; but I am prone to act and sound like a mediocre white person who just took acid for the first time a week ago, and thinks they like, totally get things now. I suppose it is delusional on my part to feel as if my super cool aloof speaking style and half knowledge of a few obscure subjects and internet culture has any merit in comparison to the hard intellectual work involved with becoming somthing interesting or worthwhile. Maybe my first mistake was having heroes, being influenced. I haven't given things crititcal thought in a long time, I'm just trying to find the smart people that everyone else hasnt uncovered yet, and regurgitating them in the way that makes me the most interesting. I would like to think the abscract nature of my wit could merit a career in comedy writing or Gonzo journalism but girl, nobody does it like that anymore. Even the current god of Gonzo journalism is in video format on Channel 5 doing it so flawlessly theres no reason to even compete. No one really looks for that stuff in writing form anyway. They want you hot, skinny, in front of the camera without stuttering and immacculate editing so you can get 230 views and tell your dreams to fuck off a week later.

I'm a "now or never" type, which is just a neat way of saying my adhd and adhd behaviors control my entire life even when I beg them to finally cease. I either exhaust it all now or it never happens. Oh, you wanted to finish this online course? best I can do is complete half of it in one day and never return to the subject again. Oh you actually enjoy doing this thing? here's a random feeling of crippling fear and discomfort at the very thought of doing it again, youre welcome. Good fucking god, is it exhausting. How do they do it? How do they actually do this every day without feeling actual internal suffering? How can it be so easy for all of them? Oh what I would give for just one day, of the freedom to do things I've wanted and needed to do. To just shower without having to add steps to build up to the act, to take one simple college course, just one, the entire way. I would love to make writing like this a regular thing, but how can I when nothing actually helps? I've tried the google calendars, i've done the millions of alarms, i've done it all so many times and so many times it fades away; it always does. Dare I breathe to reduce my mania? Dare I attempt to enjoy a hobby? Dare I even buy a video game? What can be done? How will I ever feel free? Have I ever even felt it in my life?

To accent my sentiments I see past my chromebook a youtube video that has been paused for about 3 hours, next to me a freshly unsmoked bowl of green waiting for some attention, and a constantly reheated and ignored cup of coffee. My god, was I ever worth anything but my labor? My practiced barista skills completely buried in a year of intentional unemployment. I grew up an only child to two people wired completely different than me, so I feel like the mosiac of my habits are an embarrassing rendition of who I really am. I wonder if I am alone in being this way or if other people are losing their minds trying to determine their comparitive worth so that they can know how to best conduct themselves for an online and social persona. Let's be real; I am too fat and unskilled to be confident. I used to be an artist; at least that's the sentiment that gets forced upon me because I used to like drawing and got a little skill with it, now I'm completely demolished by the technical knowledge and expenses needed to grasp digital art; slowly becoming the only true art these days. I am now living a life of identity vagrancy; full of unlikable confidence and excessive incompetence. It's certainly a new perspective.

I remember clearly when I first read (in a adhd sense, which is to say I read until I lost steam and started skimming despite full realization of the texts importance) the Scum Manifesto. My god if you don't know what that is just google it and have your first moment as well. I'll wait, seeing as I'm actually just a wall of text. The heated and consise writing hit me in the gut a little, but I was scared at how much I kinda liked it. The conversational writing stroked a bias of mine and made me realize how much I craved more of the style because it made me feel like maybe for a minute I wasn't wrong in how I did things. "This writing reminds me of me, when I get really angry and vent. When I get fed up and talk to myself in my made up scenarios of radical political and social change completly in my favor. This is my rage expressed when I know no one can hear me and get all butthurt. This feels wrong in how extreme, and yet I've been there....was my rage ever wrong to feel?" And my god, that's the liberating question, isn't it? Was I ever actually in the wrong or did I just make people uncomfortable? And is their discomfort a reason I should stop or is it a sign that I'm eroding the social conditioning they've exstablished unfounded comfort? It kind of brings me back to the gonzo journalism in a sense, where I'm not doing anything much more than giving you facts and the way that I see them. The bias is there but it's always going to be there as long as humans are the journalists. Why not lean into the bias and push people to actually think about how they feel regarding the subject instead of spoonfeeding them the most middle of the road, "all lives mattter", "let's listen to both sides" bullshit take? Why do you need to be the personal advocate for "everyone is right in their own way" when it doesn't encourage much other than agreement? Agreement doesn't seem like a very robust goal to me. I want more weird bitches with their little hills they would die on. I want people to be unmarketable in their takes and ideas and yet I want them well thought out and meaningful. I want both sides to be argued with passion, and without apology or compromise within a space that honors what that can mean for the world. I know this glorifying middle of the road attitudes is a result of humans viewing themselves as marketable product, and yeah it's pretty sad. I know there's merit in looking for a common ground but I think we have lost our way so incredibly far on how to actually do something with that, that we should just lose our access to it until we can behave. Perhaps, I too, am another radical political expression of rage, meant to just be another crazy bitch footnote in history but hell, at least it puts me in the history books. Maybe I will read about my eccentrism and how it was my downfall in history class in a next life, making the boys uncomfortable and the girls wonder how I got like this.

You want to know what that thing was I remembered earlier, right? Nah, you totally do. I'm gonna tell you anyway. Checking my email I recieve an unneeded amount of spam from quora asking about people who are "narccisists" or whatever. I notice people treat that label like a clinical dianosis. Is it really? I mean truly. I have no idea. But even if it is, I'm concerned it exists without considering social factors, absolving the public from taking responsibility for their little monster. I see that many of them are bad people, annoying people, whatever. I was probably raised by one or two. I notice they seem to be overwhelmingly female. Funny, aren't we socialized to be narsicistic anyway? From the constant awareness of our bodies and appearance, to the hypersexualization, to the glorifying of being a superficial female taking constant care of herself and others....would it not be a natural reaction to the oppressive culture to disconnect our ability to empathize and prioritize others? Would it not make sense to fall into our falsely constructed bimbo selves and put ourselves constantly first to keep ourselves safe? And what a very obvious reaction to trauma...to say "never again" in our most formative years and to disconnect ourselves from reality enough to finally enjoy the experience. To finally take and take and never give back. To feel no remorse for the innocent because they were innocent, too. To accept how the game is played and just hyperfocus on ourselves because we never truly feel safe or loved. It's always so easy to make up a new strawman villian to direct our indirectable hatred and yet, it's so easy sometimes to throw it onto the hurt person hurting other people. Because it's easy. Maybe I do that too. Maybe I'm wrong and theres a clinical disorder that makes you a bad person that should be taken off the earth. Of course it's pretty difficult to achieve deeper understanding of this thing without realising how misogynist of a world we live in, how it appears everywhere and is always going to follow the female population around in some form. Without that you just look at a bunch of information men wrote and say "well those are the experts here, looks real to me!" and move on. I wish I had that little brain worm. I kinda hope yours dies though.

You have read about 2000 words of caffinated ramble. The misspellings, the lack of coherency- I just want you to know that it's all for you, baby. I can't imagine a human on this earth doing something for me as tedious and meaningful as just reading through my "old woman yells at cloud" and even if you dissagree with me and all I've said I still thank you for not dismissing what I have to say. I hope I get that blog post writing for 100 dollars an article job so I can beef it up with my useless verbage and whatever else I need to do to get enough money to not feel so bad about taking a year off to rest my soul. I would just love to be able to just type up my little words whenever I felt like it and make a little money to keep myself smoking heavy, watching youtube, and walking in a circle to get my step counter to say nice numbers. I think I'll just....post this rambling for the rad girlies on tumblr to see. what was this about every action doesn't have to be performative? I do not hear it...

[princess-yuna]

Callie

Summary: Billy Hargrove wants the girl.

Warnings: None, just fluff and stuff.

A/N: Hi, this is my first fanfic on this Tumblr. To the friends who follow me on here I am subjecting you to the fanfics that I write and stuff. Sorry not sorry. I hope you other readers enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Maybe this will become a short series? I don’t know. Help me decide! 

Billy Hargrove remembered that he never thought he would fall for her. She was the girl that he wanted to stay away from because he didn’t want to be around her. From the first moment his eyes laid on her, he wanted to hate her. He wanted to pretend that those feelings he got from her were just pity. All he could think about was the way she laughed with her friends, and the bright smile that was on her face. God, he wanted to hate her.

The first day they interacted with each other was in English class when they had to discuss a scene from Romeo and Juliet together because somehow everyone had paired up already to leave them as partners. He couldn’t take his eyes off from her as she read from her book, and he watched as she tapped her pencil on her bottom lip. Her hair fell into her face, which made him want to reach out, but she tucked it behind her ear. All he could remember was her asking what he thought, and he slumped in his seat to mumble something incoherent. What she did was let out a laugh with a shake of her head and told him to keep up. That is what hooked him. She wasn’t afraid to speak up to him.

Somehow, they ended up spending time with each other, but for reasons that he couldn’t explain. He had wanted to keep away, but he was always pulled to her. He made comments, rude comments, but she was always the one to spit words back instead of just take them. He did things that made her hate him when he wanted it to be the other way around. It pissed him off that he couldn’t hate her. He didn’t understand why he couldn’t hate her, but she had many reasons to hate him.

They bickered constantly and that was the only way he could communicate with her. Calling her names and picking on her, making comments that would try to shut her down. She fought back as she held her ground, and her confidence made him that much more attracted to her. There was tension and their peers could feel it. They didn’t know what kind of tension it was because it had been so mixed. They fought like a cat and a dog, her the cat while he was the dog. The comparison was uncanny.

He basked in the title of being the new king of the school, thinking it would impress her, but she turned her head the other way. Nonetheless, he was proud when he knocked the one and only Steve Harrington off his pedestal.

Distance started to form, and he did not like that one bit. She would stay away from him because he had been too much of a conceited jerk. He wanted her, but he just didn’t know how to put it in words. All he gave her was negative attention and he didn’t know how to stop. No one told him to stop until he saw her kissing another boy in the hallway.

Billy Hargrove never had his heart broken, but his heart shattered with the sheer thought of losing the girl that he wanted to be with. He wasn’t going to lose to a jock that didn’t matter. Truthfully, he thought he was going to lose. That boy might have been better for her. There was no way that Billy would commit to her like the way that this boy did. Maybe this was the moment that he would start to hate her, but the hate never came. He was determined. He wanted to be the one that she would be with in the end. Then he sucked it up and then the unimaginable.

“Go to prom with me.”

Prom had been talked about among the senior class, and girls wanted their crushes to ask them to it. He never once thought of it, but he was going to make it a point to go through extremities to ask her out to prom. No, he didn’t care for what other people would think. She had a boyfriend, but Billy didn’t care. All he did was show up at her locker during one of the passing periods while she was in the middle of having a conversation with her boyfriend.

Her eyes widened in bewilderment, not believing how casual he had been as he leaned against the lockers and ignored the intense glare that her boyfriend was giving him. “Are you out of your mind, Hargrove?” Billy ignored him, not caring, and the other boy knew well not to mess with him. If he was willing to beat down the former king of the school, he was willing to beat down anyone who got into his way. Clearly, he was out of his mind though.

“Yes, I am,” Billy responded, eyeing the other male for a moment as he sized him up. Pathetic, why would she even go for him anyway? He had nothing that he could offer her. Not like Billy could offer her much either, but he wanted to win her over. However, he was ready for her to turn her down. They weren’t exactly on good terms when they fought with each other all the time. Though he only did it because he wanted to challenge her. Sometimes even she could bruise his ego, but he never made it noticeable. What attracted him was how casual she could be when she insulted him back like nothing phased her.

When she told him no, he didn’t leave with his ego bruised. No, he had a new determination. He was thinking crazy, but, when didn’t he? All he did was leave her alone. No snarky remarks, no attitude, no comments. Nothing. This went on for two weeks and during the night of prom he had a plan. He didn’t formally buy a ticket to prom, but he managed to sneak in. He looked out of place and stuck out like a sore thumb with his jean jacket, white shirt, and tight jeans that the ladies seemed to fall for.

Seeing her out on the dancefloor in her dress made her the most gorgeous girl in the school. Her hair was perfectly done, her makeup was placed to accent the best features of her face, her dress was elegant and sophisticated. With his eyes set on her, he moved forward and reached out to tap her shoulder. When she turned to face him, he leaned in and placed a kiss on her lips that left her gasping in surprise.

Nothing else seemed to matter but the feeling of her lips. Eyes were on them and the desire for her grew more when she returned the kiss when he had expected her to pull away. They had been absorbed with each other, the tension was finally gone. Once she had pulled away her words had left him stunned.

“About time, Hargrove.”

Prom was everything that they both least expected. He was kicked out of the gym by a teacher after finding out that he was there, but he waited by his car as he waited for the night to end. She had walked out alone, but with a smile on her face. There was no boyfriend at her heel, and that was when Billy knew that had won. The moment their eyes connected, he had a smug smirk on his lips and he threw the cigarette he had been smoking onto the ground as she approached him. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him close to her so she could place a kiss to his lips.

From that night forward, he didn’t expect his life to turn around. She was there to make him a better man, and he didn’t realize how much he was changing because of her. All his focus was to make her happy when he never thought of anyone but himself.

All he could think about was her soft brown hair that he loved to run his fingers through. The way her smile lit up her eyes that could light up the whole room. He thought of the way her skin felt underneath his fingertips and how the color of her skin contrasted against his own. The way she smelt of vanilla every time he buried his nose in the crook of her neck. The thought of her laughter sounded like a beautiful song. Those lips he could kiss every minute of the day that were soft against his own. Everything about her he had fallen in love with.

There was one night they were together, talking up on her rooftop like they did on occasion, where they spoke about their goals. Billy had none in mind while she had so much that she wanted to do. Her goals were to get out of Hawkins and try to pursue her career in acting. Even in the dim light of the moonlight he could see her eyes lit up as she spoke about what she wanted in her future. He admired her drive, and he wanted to do anything he could to help her. He would drop everything for her just to make her dreams come true.

“Let’s go to California.”

For a moment those words didn’t register in her head as she continued to speak on and on until she let it sink in. The brightest of smiles lit up her face, and he couldn’t help but to smile back. He made her a promise to take her to the place he had missed the most, and he knew that she would be able to find something there for her. If that made her happy then he would be happy too, if he was able to be by her side.

The promise was fulfilled once they packed up their bags after graduation. They didn’t tell their parents that they were leaving, wanting to take the leap without any persuasion to stay. He knew his dad wouldn’t care if he was around, but her parents wanted her to have a better future. Hawkins was going to be left behind them and they were on their way to California once they finished putting their bags into his Camaro. They had only $400 to last them, but they knew they were able to make it.

A year down the road Billy Hargrove never expected that he would have the love of his life with him standing on the beach with their toes in the sand in Santa Monica. His arms wrapped around her, giving her a gentle kiss on the cheek, taking in the scent of vanilla as he placed his chin on her shoulder as they watched the sunset. “We made it,” he whispered.

“Callie,” she said softly.

“Hm?”

“Her name.”

A smile went to his lips as he held her a bit tighter, his hands going over her stomach. He pressed a gentle kiss to her neck before he spoke softly in her ear, “Callie is beautiful.”

[chariot313]

Western social media has no respect for Japanese online artists - and it’s killing online art

The visual arts have evolved to suit the most popular medium of each era. In nowadays’ case, the internet is the go-to method of sharing the fruits of one’s labour). However, as stated in that tweet thread of mine you can see if you scroll down a bit (assuming you’re viewing this post on chariot313.tumblr.com) different cultures have different attitudes towards how their customers react to their products. This include you know what fuck the formalities, I’ll just say it: The exclusively western concept of someone seeing something they like online and hitting the share button to stimulate the “Haha, upvotes go ‘brrr’!” dopamine in their smooth-ass lizard brain will be the death of online Japanese artists. Or rather, it has been already, and you would know that if you’ve ever seen an artist’s Twitter bio be in mostly Japanese save for one sentence in English; “Reprint is prohibited.”.

If you want to hear me rationalize the absurd claim I just made, feel free to click the “Keep reading” button. Otherwise, turn back now and save yourself from me possibly wasting your time.

Alright, you’ve chosen to stick with me. Just remember, you asked for this.

Introduction

Social media as a whole is based around sharing (posting, uploading, submitting, tweeting, blogging, streaming etc.) and other’s reactions to what one has shared (views, likes, subscribers, favorites, followers, upvotes, retweets, reblogs, crossposts, etc.).

However, miscommunication and culture shock due to language barriers and cultural differences is one of the many factors that can negatively affect one’s experience on social media. For example, the Japanese artist community, active on sites such as Twitter, Pixiv, NicoNico Seiga, FC2 blogs, etc.. Twitter is mostly inhabited by English-speaking users. Here in the west, our main motive for sharing something on social media (such as art) is for fame and recognition. However, over in the East, most online artists only upload their works to the internet for personal use. I’m not saying one cultural attitude towards sharing art is better than one another, but when these two worldviews collide, the culture shock can negatively affect the careers of artists who are unaware of the other culture’s differing views on sharing art.

So, I’ve listed numerous social media platforms below and I’m going to elaborate on how each of them contributes to the alienation and discouragement of Japanese artists.

DO NOT WITCH-HUNT OR HARASS THE CULPRITS I’VE LISTED AS EXAMPLES; THEY ONLY SERVE TO BACK UP MY ARGUMENT

Twitter

Go into the twitter search bar and type in the name of an anime character (usually female). What do you find? Most likely an account named after said character that does nothing but post unsourced fan art of said character with cheesy “in-character” captions on them.

Exhibit A [NSFW]

Exhibit B [NSFW]

Exhibit C [very NSFW]

Aside from that, Twitter isn’t that bad in this regard, as a lot of the art that gets stolen is originally uploaded to Twitter anyway. But I’m just getting started. 

Wattpad

Ah yes, Wattpad. One of the “trinity” of fan fiction communities (the others being fanfiction.net and AO³), featuring many different stories with varying degrees of readability. The problem is the option to add a picture to adorn your fanfiction, at which point most of the authors google “<fanfic subject> fan art” and use something from there without considering the repercussions. This causes Wattpad to be one of the top results when reverse image searching to find the source of some fan art, aside from another site I’ll mention later on...

Reddit

There’s a subreddit I often browse called r/ChurchOfJirou, a community for sharing anything relating to the character Kyouka from My Hero Academia (I mean come on, she’s like the cutest thing ever). A lot of the posts on that sub are sharing fan art of the aforementioned character. One of the rules in the sidebar is “always include the source in the title or the comments”. And most of the submissions make good on that rule. However, a lot of the posts are from Japanese artists on Twitter or Pixiv, and following the source link leads you to find the artist’s bio, which usually has something along the lines of “don’t repost my work”. And what’s more, the biggest offenders (of submitting art to the sub without OP’s permission) were the moderators of the subreddit. You know, the ones who are supposed to be enforcing the rules? I even got so fed up that I called it out, to which one of the mods replied,

“It doesn’t really make a difference, does it?”

Luckily, not all subreddits are like this. For example, other MHA-related subs like r/BokuNoShipAcademia or r/ChurchOfMinaAshido have moderators that are more considerate of artists’ wishes. Overall, Reddit is usually a hit-or-miss when it comes to this kind of thing. At best, you’ve got subs like the two I just mentioned which make sure to respect artists, and at worst you’ve got people trying (and failing) to edit out watermarks. Also, not to self-promote, but this tweet of mine represents this situation pretty well:

Imgur

Imgur isn’t that bad compared to the rest of these, but it’s a common one that people link to when asked for the source of whatever they’ve shared on Twitter or Reddit or whatever.

Amino Apps

Amino Apps is a strange case. I don’t know much about it since I’ve never used it, but from what I do know it seems similar to Reddit in that there are numerous communities for different niches. That said, judging from the way it clogs up Google image search results, I doubt OC art is posted there often.

YouTube

Now, you may be thinking, “How does a video site rip off others’ art?”. The answer is uploads of soundtracks. Look for any OST from a video game or anime on YouTube and the picture used for the video will likely be some fan art by a Japanese Pixiv artist, usually one that forbids reposts of their work. Not only that, but if the uploader did bother to add the source in the description, it’s usually not even a link to the actual source, more likely a link to Zerochan or Pinterest or something. Now take into account that some of these videos get millions of views. Imagine working hard on something, and some numbnuts takes it, slaps some music onto it, uploads it to YouTube, and gets millions of views while you get next to nothing in comparison.

Exhibit A

Exhibit B (re-upload; original had nearly 40 million views before it was copyright claimed)

Exhibit C

and many many others

Pinterest

Alright, this is the big one. When Pinterest isn’t giving recipes or wardrobe ideas to suburban white moms, it’s clogging up Google reverse image search, punishing anyone who just wanted to find the source of some cute fan art. I feel like this meme by ZebitasMartinexSi on Facebook sums it up:

For example, this piece of Legend of Zelda art by Twitter artist @_nomeri_ (I’ll just link to it, since it would be hypocritical of me to embed the image even though @_nomeri_’s bio warns people not to repost their art). Good art, right? Well, if you right-click and hit “Search Google for image”...

...yeah. Pinterest is a plague. It thrives on theft. Even worse is when someone will post fan art on Twitter/Tumblr/Reddit/etc. and have the nerve to say “IDK the source I found it on Pinterest ^_^”. Or worse yet, they link to Pinterest saying it’s the source.

Instagram

While many other sites rag on Instagram for its reposting of memes, it’s no better when it comes to reposting fan art, especially from Pixiv. I’ve seen lots of stolen pieces with fan fictions written in the description. Personally, if I were an artist, I’d rethink my career choice if I saw my art reposted on Instagram with a half-assed fanfic under it, so I don’t blame Japanese artists who close their Pixiv accounts after seeing that. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try to prevent it from happening in the first place.

DeviantArt

DeviantArt is more “renowned” across the web for its niche circles of bizarre fetish art, but in its defence, there are some legitimately good pieces on there. If you do find a good one though, try checking to see if all of the uploader’s pieces have a similar overall art style, because if not, that’s a sure sign of someone passing off some Pixiv user’s art as their own, which is unfortunately fairly common on DeviantArt.

9Gag

Not a whole lot to say about 9Gag. I mean, it does contribute to reposting of art, but nothing really separates it from the others on this list, aside from its watermarks. At least the watermark gives away the fact that something was reposted.

Know Your Meme

You know that Zelda pic by @_nomeri_ I was talking about earlier? Well, to add insult to injury, it became an object-labelling meme.

Imagine putting hours into something and politely asking others not to repost it, only to find that some nincompoops on r/DankMemes made it into an object-labelling meme.

But this isn’t KYM’s fault, per se. Know Your Meme only documents memes; they do not create them. However, as someone who regularly browses the Know Your Meme image galleries, I can say that the image gallery has essentially become Know Your Fan Art (unlawfully reposted fan art, that is).

Redbubble

There’s an NSFW artist I follow on Twitter by the name of Nico-Mo. A while ago, his Pixiv account was suspended, and there were numerous pictures on there that he had not uploaded to his Twitter or DeviantArt, so I found a mirror of one of those pieces on Gelbooru and reverse-image searched in hopes of finding it on his Twitter. No such luck. What came up instead was a .png of the piece made into a sticker being sold on Redbubble. In fact, that’s one of the major reasons why artists disapprove of their art being reposted, as it may find its way onto a sticker or a T-shirt being sold as merch without the original artist giving consent nor the artist receiving so much as a single nickel.

Facebook

Surprisingly, I think Facebook is one of the least offending sites on this list. Still worth mentioning, though.

Funnyjunk

Like Imgur, Funnyjunk isn’t that bad compared to some of the rest of these, but this exchange in the comments of a repost of an MHA artist that deleted their account (not hard to see why considering people straight-up ignored the big-ass watermark at the bottom) is proof enough of western social media’s flippant attitude towards ruining online artists’ careers.

Aggregator imageboards such as Yande.re, Konachan, Danbooru, Gelbooru, Rule34, SankakuComplex, Zerochan, etc.

I don’t think I need to explain these. But like Imgur, these are what most people link to when asked for source instead of bothering to find the original post.

We Heart It

I don’t know much about “We Heart It”, but it seems to be a “Pinterest Lite” considering it clogs up image search almost as much as Pinterest does.

iFunny

Basically the same as 9Gag, in the sense that its watermarks are a dead giveaway.

4chan

I’m not sure if 4chan really “counts” among these, as it’s a chat board where nearly everything is impermanent anyway. However, I was once on an NSFW subreddit where one submitter used a 4chan thread to get Patreon-exclusive material from an artist to upload to the sub (even though one of the rules of the sub was “no paywall content”), so that alone earns 4chan its spot on this list.

Tumblr

Yes, not even Tumblr is innocent. Although I’m sure you knew that. Similar to what I said about Twitter, look up any blog named after a fictional character and it’ll likely be chock-full of unsourced fan art.

“Why is this even important?”

Because if an artist sees that their work is being reposted, depending on the artist, they may delete the original post when they wouldn’t have to if people had just respected their wishes. Now, if an artist wants their works gone from the internet for other personal reasons, that’s up to them and we should respect them for it. But artists taking down their works due to mass reposting is 100% preventable, which is why it’s sad. If you don’t respect an artist, they won’t create art. Simple as that.

“Why do you care so much?”

Eh, I’m just weird like that. It just ticks me off when anything online, whether it be art, or a video, or whatever, is lost. In my opinion, nothing hurts more than clicking a Pixiv link on an imageboard and being greeted with “The work was deleted or the ID does not exist.”.

“But lots of western artists forbid reposting of their art too!”

Indeed, that is correct. But while many artists of every nationality and culture frown upon reproduction of their work, it seems only western social media is responsible for reposting art in the first place. I mean, why else do you think Japanese artists are saying “Reprint is prohibited” in English when the rest of their bio is in Japanese? Because English-speakers are the ones reposting.

“But exposure can help an artist!”

Yeah, that’s true...

...but “exposure” doesn’t mean much if those “exposed” to one’s work don’t know or care who it came from.

And if you need even more reasons, look no further than these posts about the same topic by other blogs:

https://cranberrywitch.tumblr.com/post/143456002228/stop-reposting-art-from-japanese-artists

https://thegospelofnagisa.tumblr.com/post/143308182398

https://edendaphne.tumblr.com/post/163117317030/ive-been-wanting-to-make-this-educational-cheat

https://marklightgreatsword.tumblr.com/post/190056977650/discourage-art-theft-in-fandom-in-2020-dont

https://letusrespectpixivartistconsent.tumblr.com/post/92189994896/why-is-this-important

also, not to self-promote but I made a thread on Twitter on this topic about a month ago that you can check out here.

That’s all.

posted Jun 14; last edit Jun 21