#like last time i saw an art project for a fandom i was in was maybe last year?? year before last???

[maxellminidisc]

These tags intrigued me, I have more thoughts (not confrontational or anything just fascinated by difference of experience)

Cause like I definitely don't think fandom was better circa 2012-2018??? when I was involved more deeply in fandom. I think if you're a person of color in fandom the experience then or now is especially always going to be shit and it's going to feel like wading in the fucking trenches. I think fandom culture has always been rotten as long as you got white people being the most vocal majority. And I think the one improvement we've made is that the discussion on adults behavior towards minors and about media about or containing minors, about racism, about other awful shit is now out in the open at a bigger scale. There were always people willing to talk about these things, but the likelyhood of them being drowned out by harrassment and especially racism was like on a different level, like its STILL absolutely happens and I still see it happen but I think a lot of people now have at the very least much bigger spaces to have these convos, especially amongst ourselves as targets of said fandom racism, ableism, etc. But the downside of this is that the people who HAVE gotten called out for shit are ALSO much more openly aggressive and shameless, especially towards minors and poc.

BUT like what I was referring to in my original post as something I "enjoyed" is the balance of fandom related content OUTSIDE and beside fan fiction specifically on tumblr. From my experience, it felt like a pretty balanced ratio of fanfic, fan art, gifsets, giveaways, meta discussion, fan projects like zines, etc cause they were always on my dash plain as day, literally never had to look for it and when I did it was easy to find. I even still have mutuals from those days and they too notice the change!

It wasn't like now, where you practically have to scroll past 20 pages of badly tagged fan fiction. It was always a nice mix of stuff; a fanfic here, a gifset there, a sprinkling of fan art, etc Now it's like can't go into a single interest without at least scrolling past 15 posts in a row of PURE fan fic before you find maybe one piece of fan art sanwhiched between the next ten. I literally have to put additional tags (for example rn let's say you have to be like "miguel o'hara, art, fan art" + show pictures only feature) to find specific things AND EVEN THEN fan fiction will still clog my results because tumblr picks up on the gifs, screencaps, photos, etc. people use to decorate or draw attention to their fan fic for some reason.

So it's like there absolutely is a saturation in fandoms focus on fanfiction and as someone else said in the tags, I think the general epidemic of faster hollower consumption of all things, including media and art, has both contributed to so much of that oversaturation and produced work thats not so fucking great! I mean back in the day you still had people absolutely writing very weak to badly written work, don't get me wrong, but finding and tracking down works with a substantial amount of thought into the original narratives and characterizations of their inspiration, of trying to improve their literary skills, working with editors, OF BEING OPEN TO CRITIQUE, was so much more likely! And the middle of the road stuff wasn't a complete loss either.

Like to me there is just such an apparant change in the ratio of content and quality produced in fandom and now that I think about it like the sense of idk an actual creative community?? The only time I see people really rally is when anybody has actual critique on fandom culture or on someone in fandoms behaviour. Like I mentioned before people used to get together all the time and do like collaborative fics, online zine projects, giveaways of merch they'd made or copies of things they didn't need anymore/wanted to share, other art projects like tarot decks, etc as a fun way to engage with each other. Some of these fun things absolutely still exist but they're usually done in much smaller scales and in smaller fandoms I'm in and they dont happen quite as much. Of course theres other reasons the reduction in these projects has happened (aka disastrous scams lol) but it's interesting that its fallen out of style among fan spaces, I see it more in specificically LGBT spaces that say, people get together to make a zine. Fandom now seems very very disconnected in some particular way now on here that I cant quite put into words that really doesnt feel as capable of enjoyment??? Enjoyment now comes from SUPER curating who and what you're interacting with instead of like more of a casual pick and choose, steady flow of variable content.

#like last time i saw an art project for a fandom i was in was maybe last year?? year before last??? #the tbna tarot deck one! and i havent seen shit since other than the aforementioned lgbt zines #but thats not fandom and id rather die than call it that... #but anyway i know yall are tired of me talking about this SORRY akskskkdks

[daincrediblegg]

no you know what I'm going to scream about the stuff I talked about in the tags of this post publicly

I'm tired of the well-meaning "don't feel bad if your work only gets 20 notes your genius is what counts and do it for you!" bullshit. I've had a good handful of friends who have straight up DEACTIVATED in recent months because their work was not getting reblogged AT ALL. No, it wasn't from lack of not being well-liked, no it wasn't from lack of trying to make sure it was getting out there to the people they knew would engage with it. It was because no matter how much they were praised privately for their work, when push came to shove, absolutely NOBODY reblogged it and gave it the audience that it was due, and I'm tired of people shoving the "unsung genius" narrative as an excuse for it. Nothing excuses that. And the boop event really proved that.

because I know given the opportunity, indiscriminately pressing a button (sometimes 10 thousand times, as I did) is not beyond this website's capability. y'all loved doing that. and look at what it wrought. nothing but love and affection and happiness. just from a couple of quick clicks of a little paw button. sure. nobody knew who you booped but the other person (which is how likes used to work on this website, btw). there was an element of anonymity to it. but that is kind of the core of this website that no other social media platform still has: the ability to be anonymous. and hyper-curating a blog on here like you might on twitter or instagram to project an image is simply not viable. and hey. you wanna know a secret: literally nobody cares what you post or whether it goes with the "theme" of your blog or not. yeah. I know. CRAZY concept in this day and age. but literally. I myself have reblogged things that have had nothing to do with whatever I am currently fixated by and you know what happened to my follower count? not a damn thing. in fact, I actively try to reblog things specifically BECAUSE it's my friends who made them (even though I'm not always good at KEEPING UP WITH HOW MUCH THEY POST @prismatica-the-strange will NEVER GO UNRECOGNIZED by me).

And you know what fucking sucks? I have to deal with this too. surprise right? you ever wonder why I reblog fics or art I post like 20 times the day that I post them? do you ever wonder why I ask about tag lists and beg for asks all the time? IT'S BECAUSE EVEN I GET LIKE. 5 LIKES ON THE THINGS I POST. AND THE REST OF THE REBLOGS ARE MINE SO I CAN MAKE SURE THAT PEOPLE WHO WANT TO SEE WHAT I MAKE GET TO SEE IT. and I say that knowing that I'm certainly not an unpopular blog, or an unpopular writer. I know that people love the stories that I create. Hell, half of the people that I've talked to about lady terror have told me that they consider her to be canon (AND EVEN SOME!! THOUGHT SHE WAS!!! WITHOUT EVEN HAVING WATCHED THE SHOW! WHICH IS STILL SO SO WILD TO ME!!!) But especially in the last 4 years (which really dates this phenomenon), my posts, no matter how well received they've been amongst people I've talked to about them directly, I still go into the notes and at least half (often more than half) are MY reblogs to make sure people saw what I posted. and it happens every single time, and I can't tell you how much it crushes me considering that it used to be that I would be able to post it only once, and people would reblog it sometimes even HUNDREDS of times.

It's not about popularity. it never has been. it's not about anxiety. or shifting website cultures. even if you lurk, the simple fact is, that if you want people to keep making what you love. you have to reblog. your theme won't suffer because you reblogged a fanfiction that you really admire. your posting won't be ruined because you reblogged some fanart from someone in a different fandom. really. I promise. and if people do unfollow you for that? who needs em. followers come and go but you should NEVER have to cater to them. on this website it has ALWAYS been the other way around. lean into it. make it yours. put stuff you ACTUALLY WANT to be seen and that you love and appreciate on your blog. no matter how old it is, how new it is, no matter how niche or off-theme it is.

so please. if you really want to show your appreciation for someone's work? you reblog. it's really as easy as that. check the tags. add some when you reblog if you like. but please for the love of god reblog. it's as easy as booping and even more rewarding for the people who you reblog from. if you want to let someone know that their work is genius and appreciate it? show it. reblog. then DM them if you're too nervous to say what you want to say but not in a public forum. but for christ's sake. REBLOG.

#fanfiction #fanart #reblogging #boop

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

The Artist and the Builder [a Joel x reader fic]

Read on Ao3

Sequel: All The Fear and the Fire of the End of the World

Fandom: The Last of Us

Ship: Joel Miller x you/artist!reader who is his age and has arthritis and allergies.

Tags/warnings: Bit of pining, Joel is sweet and settling in, reader has joint pain and allergies, kissing, pretty tame foreplay, a little fumbling, teasing, insertion of objects into vagina that probably shouldn't be there but it's the apocalypse there ain't no dildos, vaginal orgasm, Joel is Too Big and also has Bad Knees, piv sex, cuddling, artist stuff listen I don't know how to do this anymore.

Summary: Gruff contractor Joel Miller has been in Jackson for a while and up until now, you thought he didn't like you because you're an artist and who the hell needs art in the post-apocaypse? But you are wrong.

Words: 7,139

A/N: Listen I know absolutely nothing about being an artist, sorry about that. I also don't have allergies or arthritis (although I suspect I am going down that road but let's cross that bridge when we get there). I just want Joel to be soft with someone his age whose body is falling apart. Many many thanks to @pazizz and @rambling-in-purple who helped me with this one. It started as one thing but ended something else. I really appreciate the help along the way <3

My masterlist

The ache protrudes harshly into your dreams and tears you away from sleep way before it’s time to get up. It grows stronger as you come to, and you carefully try to open your hands. Each joint is like a rusty hinge that creaks and whines when moved, and you sigh deeply as you hide your hands in opposite armpits in an attempt to warm them up. Your mother had arthritis and would tell you in a bland voice that you’d probably get it, too. She had it, her mother had it, and so on. But that seemed so far away, you had your whole life ahead of you, and you had just settled down and started to live after your crazy twenties when the outbreak happened, and survival became your only goal. Despite it all, you managed to live for twenty more years, and then got slapped with the family curse.

Closing your hands around a mug of hot tea, you walk around the living-room of your small house and inspect your various half-finished projects: paper made of plants, clay paint, painted mugs. The whole house smells like a compost, so you open a window to let in a cool breeze. You immediately feel it in your aching hands but do your best to ignore it.

Sitting down at your drawing table, you pick up the charcoal and sketch a couple of lines to the profile you’re working on. It doesn’t feel right, however, so you put down the charcoal again. Restless, you sip some tea, your foot tapping against the floor.

Eventually, you have to go to the infirmary, where Robert, Jackson’s doctor, already is treating his first patient of the day.

You like Robert, like being of use, but being a nurse isn’t what you wanted. You trained to be one, yes, and worked as one for years because it felt like a good, honest profession, and your parents insisted. At nearly 30, however, you quit, and went back to school to pursue your true calling: art. You had almost finished your education when the world went to shit, and your passion no longer counted for anything. For the past twenty years, you’ve thrown yourself after art supplies like other people after food, but even paper is becoming harder to come by. Hence your experiments using plants.

“Your hands bothering you?” Robert asks around lunch, and you nod silently. You haven’t said anything, but he notices.

“Take the rest of the day off.”

“I’m good.”

“Just go, okay? I can’t give you anything for the pain, but I can give you the day off.”

You accept gratefully, and as you change into your normal clothes, you decide to go check at the latest construction site if there’s any sawdust to be had.

You hear the promising sound of a saw working its way through wood as you get closer to the latest house being erected, and when you reach it, Joel Miller looks up from the sawhorse and straightens his back. You think you see a grimace flash across his face, but then he carefully rearranges his features into the usual scowl.

Joel’s been in Jackson for a while now. You don’t really know much about him, except for what you’ve heard from others: that he walked across the country from Boston with the girl in search of his brother, and when the place where he was supposed to drop off the girl was destroyed, they both came back here. He seems to have settled well, and he’s handy, so he’s a welcome addition. He doesn’t really seem to understand your needs, though: when you first asked him if he could save some sawdust for your papermaking, he scoffed when he learned that you needed the paper for art. You bit back on an acid remark. Art wasn’t valued very highly in this world, but it’s what made you happy, and you didn’t care what someone like Joel fucking Miller thought.

“Hi,” you say, stopping in front of the sawhorse. “You got something for me?”

He wipes his forehead on his sleeve and nods towards the wall of the house he’s building. There are three buckets by it, and you see that two of them are filled with yellow sawdust, the third one with nettle leaves. Puzzled, you look over at him. You can’t really figure him out.

“What’s this?”

“Ellie said you were looking for nettles in the vegetable patches,” he mutters. “Passed by a bunch of them on patrol yesterday.”

You chew on your lower lip as you process the unexpected kindness.

“Thank you,” you eventually say. “I appreciate it.”

“No problem.” Joel picks up the saw again and goes back to working on shortening the board propped on the sawhorse. The woodsy scent of sawdust fills your nostrils, and you catch a whiff of sweat from Joel, despite the cool weather.

The buckets are proving difficult to pick up. Your fingers refuse to curl around the handles, and even if the weight is more than manageable, your hands are just not having it today. You swallow hard, embarrassed by your frailty, when Joel steps up behind you.

“I’ll take those.”

Big hands close around the handles of the sawdust buckets. You pick up the nettle bucket and start to walk towards your house. Joel walks alongside you, silent and avoiding looking at you just as you are stubbornly staring in any direction but his.

“I have arthritis,” you finally tell him, naming your disease with disgust dripping from your tongue. “My hands don’t work so well some days.”

“That’s rough,” he offers. “I used to have a neighbor who had that. Sorry.”

You finally venture a glance at him. His features offer nothing of what’s going on behind those dark brown eyes.

You arrive at your house, and Joel carries in the buckets for you. You see from how his nostrils flare that he wasn’t prepared for the earthy smell of your home.

“Just put them down there,” you ask him, gesturing to him. Joel does that and is left standing in the doorway to your living-room. He looks around at your various half-finished projects, the pictures on the walls, all your attempts at creating art with whatever materials you've been able to get your aching hands on.

You pretend to busy yourself with washing your hands, but you're really watching him. You've seen this before: people who don't care about art seeing art in a whole new way for the first time. They're always slammed in the face with it, and it's a very delicate moment that shouldn't be disturbed. So you busy yourself at the sink, rinse out your cup despite it being close to clean already, warm up your hands some more with water, open the cupboards and rearrange things. Joel disappears into the living-room, his heavy, unfamiliar boots causing the floorboards to complain about every step he takes. You hear him walk around slowly, and your curiosity gets the better of you. Quietly, you walk over to the doorway to sneak a peek at him.

He's standing by your desk, holding up a paper with a half-finished sketch. To your horror, the picture is of him, the one that you just can't get right because you can't figure him out, can't combine his threatening glower with the warm smile he reserves for his close ones.

You almost dash across the floor and snatch the paper from his hands before throwing it down on the desk, picture down.

"That's not finished, I mean, it's not... you weren't supposed to see it."

"It's good," Joel states simply. You glance at him as you mindlessly rearrange the sketches on your desk.

"Thanks."

His stare is piercing and hard to meet, so you cast down your eyes to a sketch of Ellie right in front of you. Joel follows your gaze and sees it.

"Can I see that?"

You bite your lower lip, pick up the sketch and hand it to him. You're happier with this one: Ellie's face is open, honest. She talks, questions, comments. You've barely heard ten words in all from Joel, and he's been around for months.

"You really captured her," he admires you. "Did she pose for this?"

"No," you shake your head, "but I've worked together with her occasionally. It's easier to draw someone when you know how they move and talk and such."

He hums in agreement as he studies the picture.

"Is that why you haven't finished my picture?" he eventually asks, catching you off guard. "Because you haven't spent time with me?"

"Probably," you shrug, and hold up your hand for him to relinquish the picture back to you. He does, and the line between his brows seems to melt away when he asks you if you'd want to finish his portrait.

"I can come by tonight after work."

You meet his soft gaze and nod.

"Yeah, okay."

///

You're in the middle of dipping your paper molds into a tub of pulp and putting them to dry when there's a knock on the door. You call out a "come in" as you wash your hands under water as hot as you can manage. Not good at staying passive, you've strained your hands all day continuing with your experiments.

Joel steps in, eyeing the room immediately before settling his nut-brown gaze on you.

"How are your hands?" he wants to know. You shrug.

"The same."

You reach for your jacket, and Joel grunts questioningly. You raise a brow at him.

"Are we going out?"

"I need fresh air."

"It does smell in here." A grin flashes by his face, almost shocking you. Was that a joke?

"Sorry," he immediately apologizes, taking your silence for chagrin. You smile wryly.

"Don't worry. It really is smelly, I just don't notice anymore."

You leave your house together and start walking slowly down the street. The evening is cold in a refreshing way, and you hide your gloved hands in your pockets, both to keep them warm and to keep them occupied. Keeping your eyes trained on some invisible spot in the distance, you try to figure out something to say. It doesn't feel like you and Joel have a lot in common, and all those old icebreakers of "where are you from" and "do you have a family" can be sensitive in this world. You opt for something you do know about him.

"Did you build houses before?"

He takes a second to answer, but finally tells you that he was indeed a contractor.

"Always good to know how to build things," you comment. Joel hums in agreement before clearing his throat.

"And you? You usually work in the infirmary."

"I was a nurse, but I didn't like it much," you tell him. "I went back to school to study art, but the breakout happened before I finished. And nobody needs art to survive. So I work as a nurse."

Joel doesn't say anything, but nods to a passer-by.

"Do you like being a contractor?" you ask. Once again, he takes a little time before presenting his answer.

"I do."

"Good, honest work, huh?"

"Something like that. And..." He hesitates, gaze flickering when you turn your head to look at him.

"It's nice to build something instead of destroying it," he finally mutters. You nod slowly.

"Yes. Yes, it is."

Without hurry, you walk around Jackson three times while talking. Joel is a man of few words, but the words he does utter are well chosen and sometimes heavy with information. He talks about his former construction work but doesn't utter one word about his personal life, possible family, likely loss. His voice is warm when he talks about Ellie, the teenager he delivered across the country, only to find that the people who were supposed to take care of her were already dead and buried. There is a momentary crack in his facade when he talks about his failed mission to bring Ellie to Salt Lake City, but he quickly gathers himself, and states that that's how both ended up in Jackson. He seems happy enough with those turns of events.

You tell him about your art education, about how you ever since you were a young child have seemed to notice how light falls on objects, faces, your surroundings, and the deep-seated urge to draw the light, paint it, trace is with a brush in futile attempts to replicate the magic. The light changes everything, how the world is viewed, and you're constantly trying to capture those moments when the light renders a common kitchen utensil magical, just because the first rays of morning sunshine catch the curves and angles of it. You're not sure he understands, but he does listen.

Eventually, you stop outside your house, facing each other. Darkness has fallen and you didn't leave the porch light on, so you struggle to see his face in what little light there is to be had from the moon, and the glow from the windows of the neighboring houses.

"It was nice talking to you," you say sincerely.

"You too."

You hide your hands in the opposite armpits in an attempt to keep them warm. The cold is getting to them, even with gloves.

"Will I see you tomorrow?"

Joel blinks.

"You're not going to draw me?"

"It's too dark."

"Ah." You hear from his tone that he just realized that you've been talking about light this whole time. His head shifts on top of that long, strong neck, his face turns a little to the side and you catch the profile of his aquiline nose against the faint light coming from the neighbor's house.

And you know you have to try to draw him like this, half cloaked in darkness, the bridge of his nose sharp against soft light, maybe from a fire, the shadows painting dark valleys on his face with his frown, the glint of grey in his beard, a lock of hair curling by his ear.

"Maybe not," you correct yourself and step past his towards your porch. "Come on in."

You load up the fireplace, your hands only trembling slightly from the weight of the wood. Joel kneels next to you by the fireplace and takes the matches from you. A protest rests on the tip of your tongue, but the brief touch of his warm, callused hand makes you swallow it. You stand up and watch him light the fire, breathe life into the kindling, and carefully place smaller twigs on the first, small flames before rocking back to watch the fire grow. You move your weight from one foot to the other, tuck your hands into your pockets. Joel glances up at your fidgeting.

"Your hands hurtin'?"

"It's the cold," you shrug. "But it's fine, it's not that bad."

You take a step back, towards the kitchen.

"Want a cup of tea?"

"Sure. Thanks."

When you return with two mugs of steaming tea, the fire is crackling merrily. Joel rises, joints popping, and accepts one mug from you with one hand, the other suddenly taking a gentle hold of your wrist. You twitch, the tea spills over a little, but you don't pull back your hand. Slowly, Joel covers it with his big, broad palm, so much warmer than yours, and you almost instantly feel the heat spread into your aching joints.

When you search his averted gaze, he releases your hand, and clears his throat.

"Thanks for the tea," he murmurs, and you nod quickly.

"You're welcome."

You busy yourself with emptying the run-down armchair from various knick-knacks and tools, and indicate the seat for him. Carefully, as if afraid to break it, Joel sits down. You pull up the desk chair and take a piece of charcoal and a paper, propping it on your lap with a sheet of cardboard under.

"You're not going to continue with the half-finished picture?" Joel asks, sipping his tea.

"No," you shake your head. "It's not how I want to draw you."

"Waste of paper."

"I'll use it to make more. It's okay."

He grunts, and you hide your smile without knowing why you're even smiling in the first place.

"Turn your head a little towards the fireplace," you instruct, and Joel squares his shoulders, as if he's unhappy about being told what to do. However, he does as he's asked, and follows the rest of your directions easily. When you're happy with his angles, you put coal to paper, and start to sketch.

For a long time, the only sound heard is that of the fire, and the soft scratch of the coal against the coarse paper. Your sharp eyes note every hair, pore, and line on Joel's face, but you're finding it hard to transfer them to paper. After a long day, your hands are hurting bad, and the pain keeps shifting your focus away from the task at hand. Finally, you sigh deeply and turn the paper upside down.

"I'm done."

"It's finished?" Joel asks, shifting like he's sitting back and leaning forward at the same time. One brow is quirked inquisitively, while his tight jawline lets you know that he doesn't really want to see the result - but he's curious.

"No," you specify as you get up, "it's not finished. I have to start over, but it's getting late."

Your fingers can barely let go of the coal when you set it down together with the paper. You hide your knuckle in the palm of your other hand and rub it discreetly.

"You won't show me?" Joel rises from the armchair and comes up to you, putting away the cup of tea. Standing right in front of you he seems almost impossibly broad.

"Your hands hurtin'?" he asks in a low voice that vibrates along your spine. You swallow quickly.

"Just need to warm them up, it's okay, I'm used to it."

Your breath gets caught in your throat when he takes both your hands and presses them to his chest. You feel his heart beat quickly against your palm and realize that some of his body heat actually comes from him being just as nervous as you are.

Feebly, you try to pull back your hands.

"I'm getting coal on your shirt..."

"Don't care."

You bite into your lower lip, speechless as if you were fourteen and standing in front of your crush, instead of a middle-aged woman talking to...

Who is Joel to you, anyway?

"Why are you doing this?" you ask hoarsely. Joel frowns, his hands slowly letting go of yours. You keep your palms on his chest for a second longer before letting go. Bereft of the warmth, your joints feel even worse.

He doesn't seem to have an answer to give you, but his lips move like he's trying to say something to break the silence. When nothing comes out, you get impatient.

"Joel?" you prompt.

"No one's ever looked at me like you look at me," he lets out, his dark gaze locking in on you. "It's like you're staring right through my clothes. It makes me nervous. I haven't been nervous in... a very long time."

"Nervous how?" you hear yourself ask, even if your armpits have grown damp, and your heart is beating so hard he surely must hear it.

"Nervous in that way." You hear exactly what he means, all the possibilities and threats and risks summarized in that. There's something so awkwardly boyish in it that you find yourself smiling. His frown deepens when he sees it, but his lips soften.

"Joel," you ask, softly touching your aching hand to his, "do you want to kiss me?"

He immediately grabs your wrist and touches his lips to yours in a kiss that doesn't really know what it's supposed to do but wants to do it anyway. He forgot to draw breath, and instead of inhaling against your skin, he pulls back quickly when he has to breathe.

"Fuck," he mutters, "that was a shitty kiss. I'm sorry."

Your cheeks flush violently when you pull at his hand.

"You can try again?"

The offer makes him smile, finally, and he displays that dimple that you found absolutely impossible to put to paper. His closes his hand around the back of your neck, and his lips press onto yours, and he remembers how it's done, and kisses you until you're not sure your legs will carry you anymore.

///

The picture of Joel becomes secondary to your meetings. Joel, you realize very soon, courts you, like some southern Gone With the Wind-type of gentleman. He brings you whatever materials he can find when he goes on patrol - you're excused from that task due to your horse allergy - and quietly offers you his thick gloves when you're out walking together, and your hands hurt. He continues to not talk much, but you start to recognize the little things: acts of service, the way he looks out for you, how his eyes light up when he sees you. His kisses when you part.

There is only kissing. He hasn't touched you in any other way, and you haven't taken initiative to anything further. There is only a rather chaste, yet warm, kiss when he leaves your house, where you usually meet up. He drinks tea and watches you draw, or paint when you're not asking him to pose for you. You know exactly how you want to capture him but so far, your hands haven't been skilled enough, and for every hour you spend with Joel, you lay another piece of the puzzle that is Joel, and you become unsure of how to draw him.

One evening, a couple of months after that first kiss, you're enjoying the warm fire in your living-room when there is a knock on the door. Joel stands on your porch, eyes scanning you quickly as soon as you open the door.

"You weren't at the movies," he says, referring to the event that nearly everyone in Jackson went to tonight. You hear the question in the statement: Are you okay?

"It's cold," you shrug. "Not my thing. Wanna come in?"

He enters your house, and you take his coat and hang it by the door.

"How are the hands?" he asks. You rub your palms together.

"Not bad today, actually. How's your knees?"

He grins a little, knowing that you saw him carry furniture up porch steps earlier.

"Creaky, but they still carry me."

"Tea?"

"I don't want to disturb, if you wanted to be alone."

You lead the way into the living-room, and move some things away from one armchair, pulling it closer to the fireplace, next to the one you were sitting in.

"You're not disturbing, do sit down. I could work some more on your portrait."

Busying yourself with picking at pieces of charcoal, you don't pay him any attention until his footsteps bring him right behind you. One warm hand touches your waist gently, startling you into turning around to meet his sheepish face.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

"It's okay." His warm body is so close to yours, and his smell of wood, sweat, and snow invades your nose. You inhale deeply, pretending to sigh just to get the opportunity to soak in this intoxicating, masculine smell of his.

"I got something for you." Joel holds up something wrapped in cloth, and it takes you a few moments to gather yourself.

"For me?" Carefully, you take the little package from him. "Whatever for?"

He shrugs. “Thought you might need it. It’s probably your birthday at some point, or Christmas, or whatever.”

You never were good at receiving gifts, and it's even harder now. When was the last time you even got one?

He shifts his weight; a show of nerves that doesn't match up with his calm, deep voice. You decide to put him out of his misery and unfold the cloth.

It's four paintbrushes, hand carved with thick, curved handles, and tidily shaped heads.

"Oh. Joel, these are... these are gorgeous."

You hear him exhale, like he had been holding his breath.

"You think they're any good?"

"I'm sure they are, the hairs look amazing. Where did you get these?"

"I made them."

Now you tear your eyes from the brushes. "You made them?"

"Carved them, they should be comfortable to hold, I asked the doc what's suitable for someone with arthritis... The hairs are horsehair, bound together with sheep hairs."

He has really listened to you talking about all the art supplies you miss, and your ideas of making your own.

"The hairs are washed, so hopefully they won't give you allergies," he adds quickly.

"Joel... thank you. I don't know what to say."

He chuckles a little. "Try them first. What I know about making paintbrushes can fit onto the head of a nail. You may wanna return them."

"Unlikely."

You lean forward, the brushes still in your hands between the two of you, and touch your lips to Joel's. His hands rise to gently cup your elbows as he accepts your kiss. Only when your lips grow more insistent, does his hold tighten as well, and all you can think of is him holding your tits in the same manner.

Your hands, still holding the brushes, come to his chest, and you start undoing the buttons of his flannel. Joel's lips leave yours, and when he looks at you with eyes steeped in hot molten lava, you know that it didn't come easily.

"What are you doin'?"

"What does it look like?" you smile a little shakily. Is this the beginning of a refusal? Have you misunderstood his interest in you altogether?

"I don't want you to do it just because I gave you somethin'."

"It's not because you gave me something, it's because you never took anything away."

He cups your cheek now, strokes his big thumb over your lips.

"You're beautiful. I haven't done this in a long time, and never with anyone as beautiful."

"How old do you think I am?" you laugh, amused and touched at the same time. His ever-present frown changes slightly, turning quizzical.

"I don't need to hear that I'm beautiful," you specify, hands still on his chest. "I don't care about that."

"Then what do you wanna hear?" His voice is impossibly low. Your pussy clenches, grows moist and hot.

"I want to hear you want me."

"Oh, darlin'..." he sighs, closing his eyes momentarily. "I want you like crazy. I have wanted you for a long time, but I wanted for you to decide when you'd have me."

You didn't know how much you had longed for someone who saw you as a sexual being, a woman with desires and a will of her own.

"Joel," you whisper, and he swallows the rest of your words when he crashes his lips to yours. The brushes fall from your hand when you throw your arms around his neck to bring him closer, and Joel's big arms go around your waist. He hums into your mouth when your entire front is pressed against him; a satisfied hum, like he's happy to have you here. You answer with a hum of your own and feel his lips curve in a smile.

Slowly, his hands begin to know your body, sliding over curves and dips, fingers dipping into flesh, palms caressing over your clothes. Your approach is more direct: you pull at his flannel, wanting it off him.

"There's no hurry," he admonishes you between kisses. "Unless you got somewhere you need t'be?"

You exhale in something in between a scoff and a chuckle.

"In your pants?"

"Bedroom, then?"

"It's warmer in here, where the fire is."

"Hold on."

He releases you, seemingly unwillingly, and disappears into your small bedroom, re-emerging momentarily later with your bedding. You move the armchairs away to allow for him to put everything down in front of the fireplace. Groaning, he lays down on the makeshift bed, taking your hand and pulling you down next to him. You giggle a little as you plop down, immediately receiving more kisses.

"This better?" he wants to know. Your skin knots over when his hand finds its way underneath your shirt.

"Much better."

He rolls half on top of you, hand finding your breast for a light squeeze as his knee pushes between your thighs to separate them. His cock is stiff against your hip, and you move against it, smiling into the kiss when he grunts and grabs your breast harder. You put your hand on his, pressing it down, feeling his hand disappear into your soft flesh almost painfully. Your moan gears him up, and he starts to pull your shirt upwards. Squirming out of it, you reach for his belt, huffing in annoyance when Joel sits up to take his own shirt off. You sit up as well for a better reach, and your forehead connects with his chin just as he dives back to you.

"Ouch!"

"Fuck!"

You smile sheepishly at each other, both of you more startled than hurt, and Joel gently pushes you back down.

"Maybe we should take it slow?"

"I need you, I'm done waiting."

"I know, sweetheart, but I don't want you to break my jaw."

You scoff, but his kisses make you docile. Your clothes come off, along with his, and when you're both finally naked, skin against skin, you discover that you're happy with going slow as well. In the light of the fire, you trace your hand along his strong muscles and soft flesh, kiss his scars from past struggles, and the newer bruises from recent altercations with logs or whatever he has attempted to lift on his own. You close your fingers around the girth of his cock - Jesus, 20-year-old you would've giggled like a maniac at the sight of it - and enjoy the sounds of surrender that you can conjure out of him.

"God, your hands feel good on me," he hisses as you slowly, while trying to remember how to do this, stroke him with both hands. You smile, suddenly struck with nerves, when you pass your thumb softly over the glistening head of his thick cock. The precum catches the flickering light from the fire, and you get lost in how light and shadow play over Joel's skin; the dark dip of his navel, the hills of his soft pecs and stomach illuminated, his cock rising proudly from a thicket of dark hairs towards the light, the fuzz of his thighs. The embossed skin of a scar reflecting the warm light. The way his skin rises in goosebumps at your touch...

"Darlin'?"

You blink, and meet his wry, amused smirk.

"You with me?"

"Yeah, sorry. I just... was looking at the light."

"How you'd paint it?" Joel seems to catch on immediately, having listened to you rambling on about The Light several evenings. Yod nod and run one finger along the length of his cock before continuing up his happy trail, swerving around his navel.

"There's so much to see on the human body, if one just knows how to look."

"Lemme try that."

Joel pulls you down and rolls you onto your back, propping himself up on one arm next to you. You blush a little as he inspects you, his hand following the dancing shadows on your chest and stomach.

"Yeah," he murmurs, "I can see it alright."

"Yeah?"

"M-hmm. Hold on."

He rolls to the other side, looking in the dusky room for something. When he returns to your side, he's holding one of the brushes he made. With a feathery touch, he touches the brush to your ribcage, right underneath one breast.

"Here's light," he mumbles, carefully tracing the brush along a rib. "Right next to the shadow of your breast."

You exhale in a soft moan as his knuckles brush up against your breast, knotting the nipple. Joel's tongue slips out to lick his lower lip before he goes on tracing the lines that only he can see on your skin.

"What are you painting, Picasso?" you ask hoarsely.

"Hush," Joel tells you curtly yet not unkindly. You smile and close your eyes, shifting a little so that you can drape your arm around his shoulder. His hot breath is on your breast, his whiskers tickle you before something warm and wet disturbing your nipple tells you he's licked it. A shiver runs through you, and you push your chest out, asking him wordlessly to do it again.

He latches on and suckles steadily, but your shout of surprised pleasure has barely died down before he releases you and continues down your stomach with the brush.

"Joel," you whine, blinking up at him, but the focus in his eyes is so intense that you don't say anything more. Instead, you watch him figure out the fundamentals of visual art: how the light changes everything, how to handle the brush, how to angle the hand. His brush may not have any paint on it, but he paints your pleasure with sounds from you: gasps, hums, a hiss when he passes over a ticklish spot. With the brush trailing through the thicket of your pubes, your legs fall open and your lower lip catches between your teeth. Your pelvis rises to meet the soft hairs, and you moan when Joel dips the brush through your slick folds. He moves the brush to your nipple, circles it to wetten it with your arousal, then ducks down to suck it into his mouth. Your back arches, your inner thighs are wet, your heartbeats echo in your pussy, and you need him to understand just how desperately you need him.

"Fuck me," you keen, "Joel, I need you to fuck me."

He hesitates, coming up to slot his mouth over yours and steal your breath away. You rub yourself against him, find his cock and tease it, make him moan just as needily as you.

"I take it you ain't a pregnancy risk?" You hear from his tight voice how close he is to snapping. Fuck, but that's hot.

"STDs are our only concern," you try to joke, but it's not funny. Before coming to Jackson, you spent years in a quarantine zone as a nurse, and the common sexually transmitted infections ran rampant. Without proper testing equipment, it was hard to tell the scale of it.

"I should be clean," he tells you, and you're too far gone to doubt him.

"Me too."

He kisses you again as he rolls on top of you, his width and weight blocking out everything else as he plunges his tongue into your mouth. Your hips rise to meet him when he leads his cock against your entrance, and you almost bite him when he starts to push into you. Your nails press into his shoulders, the fit is impossible, and Joel stops.

"Fuck," he mutters. "You okay?"

"It's big, it's been a while."

He growls and pulls out, cupping your cheek when you whine.

"Don't wanna hurt you."

"Just get me wet, Joel."

"You're plenty wet already."

"And you're hung like a goddamn moose, so get me wetter," you snap, and Joel chuckles.

"Relax, darlin'."

"I'm trying."

He kisses you again, hand between your legs, two fingers slipping through your folds and drawing out the slick to a slow circle around your clit. Sparks run up your spine and you bury your fingers in his thick, greying hair.

"You always try to cram it in before finding a girl's clit?" you mutter, but your smile shines through. Joel slips a finger inside you.

"I told you, it's been a while." He trails kisses down your neck and moves his finger inside you, seeking the right, spongy spot. You mewl and writhe, needing more but not getting it. One finger is not enough. An idea forms in your head.

"Take the brush," you ask him breathlessly. Joel stills, finger slipping out as he studies your face. You roll your eyes.

"It's not a commentary on your skills. Get over yourself."

"You were the one who were in such a such a hurry a minute ago," he teases before looking around for the brush. Finding it, he brings it to your tits, but you shake your head.

"No, use it on me."

His brow rises quizzically. You push his hand down.

"Fuck me with it, Joel."

You expect an objection, or at the very least surprise, but all you get is a strangled sound and a searing kiss. The handle, so smoothly polished, is thick and curved in a way that bears resemblance to a dildo - not that you've used one in twenty years, but the thought is there now and you have to try this out.

The handle slides in easily, filling you better than his finger but without the intensity of his cock.

"Fuck," you keen, directing your hand down to rub your clit as Joel slowly pulls out the handle before pushing it back in. "There, fuck, Joel, that's good..."

He's breathing audibly now but you don't look at him anymore, you close your eyes and let him help you find all those buttons and spots that you had almost forgotten that you had anymore. When your toes start to curl, and you moan "Faster, Joel, faster!" he complies, rough whiskers scratching the sensitive skin of your tits as he fucks you with the paintbrush that he carved with his own split-knuckle hands to spare you your aching ones.

You barely know what an orgasm feels like anymore, but there's no mistaking this one. The rise and the tightening of muscles, the holding of breath before releasing it in a choked moan, the loosening of limbs, the pounding heat of your pussy.

"Jesus, but that's beautiful," Joel sighs, gently sliding out the brush and putting it to the side before kissing your flushed forehead. "Darlin', you're killin' me."

You chuckle huskily and pass your hands over your face.

"I think it takes a lot more to kill you, Joel Miller."

"I wouldn't bet on it."

The bedding underneath you may keep the draft of the floor at bay, but offers no suspension, so when he edges into you a second time and bottoms out, it's like being split in two between a rock and a hard place. But you can take him, and you cling to his broad shoulders with breaths coming out as hissing.

"Relax," he murmurs, petting your hair as if you were a skittish animal while slowly moving in you. "Sweetheart, you can take it, you're doing it already, you're doing it so well, it feels so good..."

You keen as he spears you again, slowly but steadily, his muscles trembling from the effort of keeping himself from crushing you. Your legs wrap around his thighs, arms around his shoulders and you pull him down, you want to be crushed, you need him like this, steady like a train and sharp like a razor, his breathless kisses on your neck, the groans that may come from pleasure or discomfort from being on the floor, you have no idea, but you need him just like this.

"Come, Joel, come," you gasp into his ear, the good one, and he endures, unwavering in his effort as he digs into you, deep, thorough, devastating.

His climax is a relief and a sadness. You don't want it to end, but you also couldn't bear one more second of it.

Joel slumps to the side, gathering you into his arms as he draws a deep, shaky breath. In the faint light of the embers that are left in the fireplace, you trace the scar on his right cheek and watch his eyelids press shut more firmly before he turns his head to kiss your fingers.

The temperature in the room seems to drop as the heat dies down, and you carefully untangle yourself from Joel's firm hold to put another log on the embers. When it flares up, you return to Joel's side, now finding him watching you.

"You okay?" he asks when you pull a blanket over both of you. Making yourself comfortable, you nod with a little smile and a kiss to his lips.

"Perfect."

"That thing with the brush was... interesting."

You blush. "I don't know what happened."

"Glad it did."

"Joel, I... haven't had sex like that... at all... in decades," you blurt out. "And this was... perfect."

He hums, glances down, and to you it's glaringly obvious that he is conflicted. Your heart sinks just as he speaks up.

"It really was perfect."

"But?" You can't help yourself: there's a slight edge to your tone. Joel leans his head back a little to take a good look at you, the usual disapproving frown back on his face.

"But there was someone," he starts, "for years. And we never had this. Time and place wasn't right."

You exhale in relief. History and baggage are easy to deal with, rejection is not.

"I'm sorry."

He shrugs with a little sound, forehead smoothed out.

"Was she... Ellie's mom?" you dare. Joel shakes his head, and his hand slowly passes over your back, fingers strumming the bump of your spine.

"I didn't know Ellie until a few months ago. This was... someone else. A partner. She took Ellie on, really. I was against it. And she... didn't make it."

You don't want to say that you're sorry again, but don't know what else to say, either. So you kiss him, because you want to, because you think he needs it, because there are no words. Your hand is splayed open on his cheek, his lips and mouth are dry and so are yours, but the kiss is sweet and gentle, and the things you can't find words for are carefully passed on to him. He exhales in a soft sigh onto your cheek, then tilts his chin up to kiss your forehead before burrowing his nose against your hair. It's clear to you that he wants to sleep, but you're buzzing with unexpected energy. Carefully, you slide away from his arms, smiling at his frown, and get up to tip-toe to the desk, where you pick up paper and coal. A faint blush colors your cheekbones when you feel his cum seep out of you, and you hurry back to the makeshift bed, sitting down by Joel's feet.

"C'mere," he barks, but you shake your head.

"Just stay still."

He complies with that frown of his, and you settle down, putting the piece of coal to the paper.

You know how you want to draw him now.

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #the last of us fanfic #my fic

[umeqii]

haaiaii moot i am back I HOPE IK YOIR FIRDT REQUEST ^_^

do ive had this brainrot for the past week about this one scenario but if u dont feel comfortable doing this JUST DELETE THIS

so theres been this thing on tiktok for couples abiut the girl of the relationship taking a bra strap out of an old bra and gifting jt to their s/o as a bracelet which i think is reallt cute

could yoi maybe do that but with akito and an (separate like x reader) id love to see their reactions

ok im done yapping YIP YIP YIPPIE

JEJSJEJ FLIPPING EXPLODES YES YOU ARE MY FIRST REQUEST AND OMG DW I'LL MAKW YOURR REQUEST ^_^ !!!!

-⠀⠀⠀⠀OH WELL , IT'S ⠀⠀⠀. . . ⠀⠀⠀something alright !

QUICK A/N - might be SLIGHTLY suggestive in akito's like idk and also i wear sport bras so i have like no idea what genuien bra straps are like so sorry for my bad description (ू˃̣̣̣̣̣̣︿˂̣̣̣̣̣̣ ू)

fandom ; project sekai

character(s) ; an shiraishi + akito shinonome

creator ; umeqii

gender ; afab reader :33

─── AN !!

well i mean, an is already quite the expressive girl, and since having you as her as her amazing s/o, she feels even happier and brags about you ALOT !!

other people might see this as a silly gift idea, but at first you were quite hesitant on giving it to her, but you thought, "screw that" and gifted it to her.

you guys were walking home one day after school had ended and as you guys were talking about how what food would sound good for when you next hang out, you remembered you had a gift!!

that gift being a blue strap bracelet, from your old bra :DD!!

you had decorated it slightly, adding some cute pearls and blue charms that your thought would match an and you thought you did a great job !! (you did btw :33)

at first, you thought she didn't like it from the way she stared at and flipped the beads around and kept quiet; due to how you knew she struggles with expressing critism >_<

but then you saw a cute and loving smile growing on her pretty face, as her pale cheeks grew pinker each second before she looked up at you

" this is from your bra, right? "

" WAIT HOW DID YOU KNOW, I WAS GONNA TELL YOU BUT STILL?? "

" i'm wearing the exact one right now, babe! "

" oh "

que an giggling and embracing you in a cutie patootie hug and kissing your face and saying how much she loves it (SHE DID DON'T WORRY <33)

now she's planning on how to make you one aswell !

─── AKITO !!

okay so, you were doing this annual l/n (last name :3) family clean out, and you were going through your drawers to find clothes you didn't need anymore until you said your deep orange bra from two years ago (ﾟдﾟ三ﾟдﾟ) !!

as you were putting it into the recycling bin that you were going to give to your guardian so they could give it to the clothing shop thing, you remembered something you saw on your fyp and thought of how you could try it out !!

it was making a bracelet for your amazing and handsome and talented boyfriend akito °\>3</°

the colour did remind you of him, which you smiled about aswell as the thought of him wearing it around :33

so you put your amazing art n crafts skills to the test and decided to make a bracelet for him

good thing to say that it worked !!

you even added a dark purple bow at the end aswell as orange and clear crystals :DD

you gave it to him when you visited his house one time when he seemed kinda of tenser than usual  (｡•́︿•̀｡) 

you actually made it ages ago but ended up forgetting and then remembered in the moment because of how you thought akito seemed upset and wanted to cheer him up.

" oh? it's a...bracelet? thanks, it looks cool- wait what's the base you used for it? it feels like a buckle or whatever it's called? "

oh yeah, your bra :D

" oh yeah, i made it from my bra ≥∇≤ !! "

" sorry what "

let me tell you, akito isn't as slick as he thinks he is :PP

he turned into a huge shade of red, maybe it was just of the thought that it was made out of a bra that you had worn multiple times and it even touched your skin but naaahhh!!

you explained to him about the trend on tiktok as his eyes went ever so slightly wide and he made an, "ohh" typa sound

his cheeks were still lowkey red but he didn't know that :P

he just cleared his throat and then placed it into his lap as he ran his hand through his hair and said :

" uh...thanks for the..bracelet though. h-hey, i never said i didn't like it idiot, let me finish!! anyways...you did good with the charms.."

you started smiling like an idiot btw ∩∇∩

now he wants to make you one. but maybe with genuine materials for bracelet making.

RAAAAAAAHHHH FLIPPING EXPLODES OMG I DID IT AND OMG IM SO SORRY IF ITS OOC ANYWAY BECAUSE I DONT ACTUALLU PLAY PJSK, IM JUST IN THE FANDOM AND I DONT LOOK INTO AN'S CHARACTER THAT MUXH BUT I HOPR YIU ENJOYED?!?@?@?!?!

~ mari / umeqii ˃ᴗ˂

#umeqii #akito shinonome x reader #an shiraishi #pjsk x reader #akito shinonome #pjsk akito #pjsk an #an shiraishi x reader #akito x reader #an x reader #akito running his hand thriugh his hair sign me up like HRJWWJ?!?!?!?

[rikeijo]

Today's translation #617

Newtype 01/2017, Otsuka Manabu interview

Part 1.

-- Please tell us about the circumstances, in which this project started moving?

Otsuka: I first got to know about this project, when I was told about it by the Director, Yamamoto Sayo, when we were working together on a different project. At first, I was very uncertain, if I and the studio have enough power to keep up with Yamamoto Director's TV series, because she always has been known as being very particular about quality. But inspired by the charming characters created by Kubo (Mitsurou)-san that I saw later, and Yamamoto Director insatiable love for figure skating, I decided 'let's try to do it!" and accepted the offer to work on this project.

-- When was it that you started to be sure that this project would be fine?

Otsuka: Maybe it wasn't that I was 'sure', but after we showed the second PV at 'TV Asahi Natsu Matsuri' event, I was able to think that I would trust Yamamoto Director's intuition and just run with what she feels is right. The last cut in that PV was the scene, where Victor puts his finger on Yuuri's lip and the two look at each other. When I saw it for the first time, I thought "[if we are going to show this scene in the PV] won't men not want to watch the show?" and I was considering removing that one scene from the PV. But I've talked about it with female staff members, who thought it would be a shame to not include it and I decided 'Let's [with force] put it in then!". People at the 'TV Asahi Natsu Matsuri' event venue cheered when that scene was shown. In this show, there is a lot of things that my senses did not cover, but at that time, I was able to think that [working on the project] I would realize all those ideas that Yamamoto Director and Kubo-san come up with without fear.

[Notes: It's really interesting how in almost all his interviews, Otsuka mentions this idea that including in an anime what your average otaku perceives as 'fujoshi fan-service scenes' (regardless of the creator's intentions - like, in even in YoI, a huge number of people in Jp fandom still sees those scenes as nothing more but fan-service, because that's the default) will give the anime reputation of pandering to fujoshis, and men (anybody other than fujoshis really) simply won't even consider it worth checking out. Otsuka doesn't even try to hide it here or in his other interviews, and like I've mentioned in the past, the way they were promoting Yurio so much, when Otsuka himself was claiming that thanks to Yurio, men could watch the show and enjoy it, shows, imo, what was the committee's real problem with YoI and why it may seem like they fumbled the bag and failed to capitalize on its potential so much (very little official side content, very few Y&V official arts etc...) - they wanted YoI to not be a 'fujoshi-pandering anime', but 'a serious sport anime for everyone'.]

#yuri on ice #yoi translations #yuri on ice translation

[mochinek0]

Daminette December 2022: 10-Ambush (PART 1)

Marinette was having a difficult time getting her art project done. You would think it would be easy. Her problem? She was on her tippy-toes trying to get the book she desperately needed from the library. She was just about to jump and try to grab it, when she felt herself be boxed in. Someone else had grabbed the book. Marinette turned to thank the person and found herself in Damian Wayne's chest.

"Th-Thank you?" she spoke, reaching for the book.

Damian kept the book, just out of her reach.

"Art class assignment?" he questioned.

"Yes." Mari smiled.

"You swear you saw Damian Wayne come in here?"

"I swear!"

"Why would Damian come in here? Only nerds go in here!"

"Damian has the highest grades!"

"Damian Wayne isn't a nerd!"

"Once we start dating, you'll see!"

Damian sighed. Marinette quickly pulled him close by his tie and threw her arms around his neck. Damian dropped the book, as he grabbed the bookcase and his other arm around her waist, stopping her from falling under his weight.

'Was I wrong about her?'

"You-" he hissed.

"Shhhh!" she hushed back.

Damian heard the girls shriek behind them. He was sure they appeared to be in a compromising position.

"Are you kidding me?"

"Who the hell is that bitch?"

"I thought he was single!"

"Hey, all of you need to leave, now!"

"But-"

"Now! No shouting and no innapropriate language! If you don't leave, you'll be headed to the Principal's Office instead!"

Damian leaned away the moment he heard their footsteps walking further away. He looked down to see Marinette blushing and looking at the floor.

'So she couldn't handle her own actions?'

Damian smirked, "I wasn't expecting to get ambushed by a classmate."

Marinette quickly looked up. He was able to see her cheeks had turned bright red and so had the tips of her ears.

"So-sorry!" she squeaked, "I just wanted to help. They didn't see me so they'll just assume you are dating someone and back off."

'Not taking advantage of the situation? If I remember correctly, she's had trouble with other girls for not acting like them. She doesn't like crowds or lies. She is honest, herself.'

Damian boxed her back in and tilted her chin up so he could get a better look at her.

"Except, I'm not a liar." he whispered, "How about we work on the assignment together?"

"O-Otay!-Kay!Kay" Marinette stammered, "I meant okay!"

"What are you looking for in your report?" Damian questioned.

"Um, I mostly work in fashion design. So lots of cloth, fabrics, textures, dyes, history." Marinette explained.

"For example, how they use to paint with eggshell powder and berries?" he asked.

"Yes!" she exclaimed, "What kind did they use to dye clothes? How did they know how much to use? Art helps move culture around so much and no one realizes it."

Damian smirked, "My mother use to give me paint palettes. After some time, I believe she made them herself, but I never asked. It didn't matter at the time, but now that she's gone, I wish I had asked her where she got them. Paint in tubes don't come close to what I'm use to."

Marinette smiled, "Do you still paint?"

The Wayne heir nodded.

"May I ask what kind?" she questioned.

"Realistic, mostly." Damian spoke, "I painted Mother recently, but something is not quite right. I have put it to the side for now."

"Is it an older memory?" Marinette asked, "If it is, maybe try to paint something you remember more. Something more recent you remember of her. It might help you figure out what your other painting is missing."

Damian thought of Talia and the last time he saw her. There was fire, blood, smoke. She looked invincible. He could practically smell the metal and taste the ash in his mouth. He quickly put that thought away for later.

TAG LIST: @maribat-calendar-events @animeweebgirl @a-star-with-a-human-name @meme991001 @vixen-uchiha @abrx2002 @alysrose-starchild @fandom-trapped-03 @dood-space @moonlightstar64 @saltymiraculer @marveldcedits20 @09shell-sea09 @icerosecrystal @animegirlweeb @insane-fangirl-of-everything @blueblossombliss @nickristus-dreamer @megawhitleycalderonpaganus

#daminette december 2022 #daminette december #marinette dupain cheng #marinette in gotham #damian wayne #damian x marinette #marinette x damian #daminette #homework help #assistance #talia al ghul #painting #fashion #ambushed #mochinek0

[discluded]

rewatched some old mileapo interviews and I just find myself smiling every time mile retells his and apo's history because he tells it so excitedly with a huge smile on his face even though he probably told that story a hundred of times already. also I never realized that he said he watched apo's dramas before. he really is apo's biggest supporter 😩

anon, Apo is sooooo famous, many people have watched his series! 🥺 From Mile's Wan(der) Day where the street vendor they bought scorpions from recognized Apo (which didn't make the cut SOBSSS. I know it was because Apo didn't want to take away from Mile's shine BUT STILLLLL LET MILE BRAG ABOUT HOW HE SNAGGED A FAMOUS HOTTIE)

Here's this perspective from a Thai fan who's been a fan for several years about Apo's career:

I wrote this because i saw some comments from interfans insult Apo about his famous in the past. As a thai fan for several years , I accepted that Apo is not superstar in thailand. And at that time, in previous company DID NOT EXPORT their soap opera/series, their focus market is in local thai only. But i can say that Apo is an artist IN TREND as always among hundreds artists in same company. And fandoms culture is not strong for Thai artist.

And i would like to top up a bit more that , he got a lot of choices from organizers asking to join their series especially action role which his outstanding talented , but because during that time he was studying in university.

So attend 2-3 series in a year might made him tough on time management.

In 2014-2018 under previous company contract , he was 11 filmography both main and support roles, 8-9 shows, >20 cover magazine. Also he was a model in several fashion shows. And his series still 2-3 times re-run until now.

His name&face still be remembered by wide ppl.

Hope all of my explanation can clarify you all on his famous.

From a mommy who humbly proud on son.

Which makes it even more sad Apo felt pressured to quit an art he loves to make since the terrible working environment made him so unhappy, because it seemed like he was building a strong career for himself domestically and he was beloved by TV producers and fashion designers.

So we also really need to thank Mile for making sure KPTS stayed afloat because Apo really talked about KPTS like it was a last ditch effort in acting and would have left probably for another [permanent] hiatus if it had fallen through. Maybe would have returned much older like Ke Huy Quan did in EEAAO (not that age is a problem! just so many years of projects that wouldn't have happened...).

But what we should be really envious of is Mile's Y/N Wattpad fic life... "So like, I'm rich and smart and was a model and I met this hottie while modelling but I didn't know I liked guys then and then he became super famous but then he quit acting and then fate brought us back together again and now we are very cute and gross" 💀 if I didn't love Mile so much, I'd probably hate his fortune.....

And yeah, the way they both tell the story together in the early days of their casting relationship (e.g. Funday Show) is soooo different compared to even the way they tell the story even during Kinnporsche series promo as it was airing

(starts at 2:55 here)

There's one in particular I'm thinking of during KPTS promo where Mile talks about seeing Apo on the catwalk but being too shy to talk to him before Apo approaches him… (drop the link if you have it, I gotta run to a meeting in 5 minutes).

Yeah, Mile's enthusiasm for their first meet-cute story is so obvious from the start and he progressively remembers/reveals more and more details, while Apo's is initially more reserved but now super enthusiastic about it. As @sinnadreams pointed out, Apo in Funday was testing the waters while also making Mile work for it/chase him and now he is confident and secure and Mile is even more *continues to tell longer and longer versions of the same story*

It really feels like one of Those Couples Stories couples tell about themselves. I think you know what I mean if you know.

And yes, Mile is #1 apocolleague, watch out ofc admin, Mile is not letting you have that spot!!!

#mile is apo's biggest fan #famous apo #actor apo nattawin #apo nattawin #mileapo #old but gold #mileapo x funday #mile phakphum #mile phakphum's y/n wattpad fic life #mile wan(der) day #kinnporsche

[naamah-beherit]

On fanzines and the mess their current state is

Or: musings from a writer's biased perspective.

This post has been a long time coming, but always something else caught my attention and months passed as such. Finally, the time has come.

There was a zine wank recently. The mods proved to be quite ignorant how art works, kicked the artist, the artist went public with receipts, the mods insisted it wasn't like that, and the whole affair kept derailing with possibly another explanation for the kicking until at last the mods cancelled the zine. And it's just the latest wank of many. A zine here took money and never delivered the product, another zine there has a mod who hasn't read the book but only heard about it from their friends who, coincidentally, are the other mods. And so on, and so forth. Everywhere you look, there's a fanzine. Multiple fanzines in fact, sometimes at the same time. Which is understandable, given how old a concept of a zine is and how solid their foundations in fandoms.

Or, well, technically, because when I think about the zines of today, I can't help but realise they're gradually losing the connection to their roots.

(yes, this might be another post of the "old person yells at clouds" type. I'm fully aware of that)

I won't summarise a history of zines, because that's not the point here and also Fanlore has done a much better job in this article. It does serve as a good starting point, though, if you've never ventured past "zines are a thing that exist". The most important thing to keep in mind is: the zines used to be about much more than just art. And here lies some of my beef with them.

Nowadays, most if not all zines are art books. Worse than that: art books that refuse to acknowledge the fact, own it, and market themselves accordingly. I actually own an art book that was announced and sold as such (Ages of Arda Anthology), which to this day in all my fandoms¹ remains the only publication of that kind. And if the zines of today would have acknowledged their main focus is mostly if not only art, I wouldn't be writing this.

Alas, here we are. I participated in four zines. Additionally, I was one of the editors in one of those. It was the first English Hualian zine, actually, back in 2019 - unless another one somehow slipped my mind, but I don't think so. My 2019 was bad, but TGCF is the only thing I remember well from that time. I've also been traditionally published (three times so far), which is also relevant to the rant. I admit I don't remember how many check-ins we had for that one zine I was in the staff of. We had a word/size limit for the entries. As fas as I recall, that was the entry criteria. I might be missing details, though; I was hella depressed at the time. Like I said, bad year, few memories and 99% of them is TGCF.

But anyway, the other three zines I wrote for. I applied, was accepted, went through the process, saw it to the end. You know, the "usual" zine process. The one I've got Opinions™ about.

Let's start with submissions. x samples of works of y quality. Okay, sure, we all think without stopping to realise it's a tad weird to submit a selected portfolio of works for a hobby event as if it were a job application. It gets weirder the longer you think about it, because, as I once wrote, fandom is for fun. It's a hobby. Maybe I'm old and jaded, or an idealist, or an old jaded idealist, but I believe everyone has a place in something as deeply tied to the fandom as a fanzine.

Then comes what I've got a personal vendetta against: check-ins and deadlines. Sure, I know people create projects with specific time frames in mind, but dear gods, again, it's not a job. Nothing bad will happen if dates shift around a bit when there's no money involved. Maybe it's just me being bitter about putting fun, fannish activity into strict professional frames. again, I'm old and jaded. And dear gods, check-ins. Here's when my trad pub history comes into play, because in neither case I had to let the editorial staff know I was actually working. True, it might be a case for a story that isn't done yet, doubly so if there's a deadline looming over both an author and their editor, but when you submit something finished and aren't asked to revise&resubmit, you go over the editorial input, make the changes (or not if you're feeling brave, lol), send it back, go over the proof copy, submit possible adjustments, and that's it. Or at least that's how it worked for me for two magazines and a short story anthology.

What does it matter if someone writes a story the day before the zine submissions are due? If it works for them, then it shouldn't be an issue. Again, it might be just me, but standardising and project-managising a hobby activity doesn't really sit well with me. From my very biased perspective, I don't see fun in chasing deadlines and writing on the clock, but that's just me.

Zine being a project rather than fun activity also ties to it becoming a product. That means a zine has to sell to at least cover the production cost, and with the quality the organisers and the audience expect, the labour cost is basically non-existent. That at least remained from a fun hobby activity - people working for free, lol. It also enables situations when the same few highly popular artists partake in most or all zines in a fandom (often upon invitations, whose very existence makes my blood boil), leading to a reality where zines become an endless cycle of repetition. And don't even get me started on invitations that add to the marketing strategy of selling the zines. "Here are our wonderful, carefully selected artists, and here's everyone else". That's how I see it. Where has "we're all fans of the same thing" gone? Where's "share our mutual love for the same thing"? Instead, we get invited people and those who have to submit a CV-like application for a senior position.

You ruined a perfectly good fan activity, is what you did. Look at it, it's got capitalism.

And last but not least, art books that refuse to acknowledge what they are and the subsequent treatment of writers.

The longer I look at zines, the lower the artists:writers ratio is becoming. Sure, people like to look at art, because it's quite often easier and always quicker than reading. Sure, ain't nobody got time for reading these days. BUT. The growing disparity between respect and reception of works of artists vs writers is, well, growing, and by not giving writers an equal treatment and exposure in something as important to fandoms as fanzines doesn't help to improve the situation. Again, my opinion, but when seeing zine promos that have got approximately 20-30+ artists and 5-10 writers at most is not cool. This is why I say most of the zines these days are art books that refuse the name. And there's nothing wrong with that name, or with including only artists in something that's only about visual art. But when it's mixed for art and writing, then the least zine organisers could do is make the numbers equal. Again, we're all fans of the same thing, and no fan activity is better than the other when its outlet is meant to be varied. Also, where are cosplayers? Where are meta writers? Both of those have got a place in a fanzine as well and should be given a treatment equal to other expression of fannish love.

Am I trying to turn back a river with a stick? Probably. But I'm fed up with zines that fail because someone embezzles funds, zines that prioritise the same group of people over and over again over a more diverse crowd, or claim they're welcoming to all forms of expressions but obviously prefer to include only fanart. I'm fed up with manufacturing zine after zine after zine just because they sell. I'm fed up with fandom becoming more and more of a structured professional endeavour instead of a hobby. I'm fed up with audience that constantly demands a faster and faster stream of, well, content. Neither of those is what fandom and fanzines should be like.

.

PS. not proofread. Sorry, I'm too dead to do that, so mistakes may get fixed within the next few days, 'cause they sure as hell are many.

__

¹ - I don't know anything about other fandoms, though. Like I said: it's all opinions from a very personal angle.

#fandom

[wondergirl2007]

These five artists have inspired me to do art myself and I really admire their art ~ So I’m going to tell you about them and why they inspired me and they will even be tagged. If any of the artists that are in the list see this, then I just want to thank you for inspiring me.

5. Kika-ila

This artist is known for doing Total Drama art, and I was obsessed when I first saw her art! Her style is so freaking cute and I actually think her Total Drama Kids stories are better than Total DramaRama itself. I actually used to love Total DramaRama, but now not as much. I don’t hate it thought. I love Total Drama, but most YouTubers I watch that do TD content are leaving the fandom, like TotalDramaRicky and Noahh, which really does suck, but I can see why and they want to move on to other stuff. I really like the timeline drawings she did, and she even did it for FNAF (Five Nights At Freddy’s) too! FNAF is one of my favourite horror video game franchises, my favourite is the second one, which is actually a prequel! I didn’t even know that until a few weeks ago! But overall, Kika does awesome art and she deserves more attention!

4. thegreatrouge

I love this girl’s art. She’s known for doing art with rubber hose characters, like Felix The Cat, Oswald The Lucky Rabbit, Mickey Mouse and even Cuphead and Bendy! She has made a whole series called “Bendy And Boris And The Quest For The Ink Machine” and it’s amazing so far! The project is currently on hiatus right now, I’m not sure if she’s discontinued the comic and I really hope she hasn’t. I hate stories that are left on cliffhangers, along with “Two Sides Of The Story” which is a HTF comic by one of my good friends Emmy, she discontinued the story because she believed it was cringe. The art? It was cringey at first, but the art got better at around chapter 4. The actual storyline? Yeah, it was quite cringey actually. Can’t really blame her, but I actually did enjoy the story, I’m even doing a redraw of it and might even do a non canon continuation of it! I won’t do it for BABQFTIM, since there is already some continuations of that story. Rouge has also done a Cuphead In Wonderland project too which is pretty good too! Unfortunately, she’s been losing motivation to do art recently, which really upsets me. She’s an awesome artist, and I’d love to help her feel motivated again. Most of her art is sketched, or digital but without colour, but I can understand that colouring in art can take time. This girl is pretty good at art and she definitely deserves more motivation to continue doing what she loves.

3. The-Wallop-Cat-12

This artist mainly does Cuphead art, but she also does Sailor Moon, Splatoon and Mario art! Which is awesome, since I love all of those video games and Sailor Moon is my favourite anime. I don’t watch anime a lot, but my personal favourites are Sailor Moon, One Piece, Naruto, PPG Z, Yo-Kai Watch, Demon Slayer and Dragonball Z. Cuphead is definitely one of my favourite video games, despite how hard it can be. I got it for Christmas last year at it has been fun playing it. I also love VOAdam’s comic dubs of Cuphead Comics and he even did dubs for Wallop’s Cup Bros In Wonderland comics! I was working on a comic about it, but I discontinued it since I lost interest. I still love the idea of it though. Cuphead X Alice In Wonderland. I love Alice In Wonderland. There’s even some heartwarming comics she’s done with the the Cup Bros comforting each other that are real tearjerkers. I also really liked the Size Shifting Cup Bros comic she did. I like how Drama Days (a YouTuber I like) coloured in the comic too. I don’t know why, but I love a cartoon episode where someone becomes a giant. Don’t ask me why I love it, I just do. Probably because of Alice In Wonderland. Wallop is my favourite Cuphead artist, and she is very good at what she does!

2. ChaoChao0071

Oh my god, this girl… SHE IS AMAZING!!! I’m actually kinda jealous! Her art and animations are so damn good! She mainly does HTF content, but she also likes Invader Zim and My Little Pony. I love her crossover series with HTF and MLP “Everything Is Broken” and I like her Invader Zim series, “Not Your Enemy”. Looking back at when she started compared to now, she has been improving over the years! I really like her fanmade MLP character, Creepybloom. She’s such an amazing and interesting character. Chao’s voice acting for her is just splendid. (No pun intended cos there is an HTF character named Splendid and he’s my favourite character). I love villains that eventually turn good and realise their mistakes, like Sunset Shimmer in MLP: Equestria Girls and Vomitdid in Drama Days’ Splendid series. I also really love him. Definitely an interesting fanmade character. I also love her HTF OC’s Whiskers, Smokey and Holes. They are awesome concepts to EIB. Fun Fact, I actually didn’t like them at first when I first saw them in Part 12, but I eventually grew interest to them in Part 14, since we didn’t really see them in Part 13. Overall, this girl is AMAZING and I hope I’ll be able to animate like her one day. Her animation is so smooth and she is so skilful!

1. EmmyJeanBean

Emmy, if you are reading this, then I just wanna say… Thank you. Thank you so much. You are my best friend. You were the one to inspire me to do the art I do today. You have improved so much throughout the years, and I love every single art piece you have done. I follow you on DeviantArt, Instagram and Amino. I’ll make sure to follow you when or if I get Twitter. You are the reason why I do the art I do today. Everything about you AU makes me so curious and I love the way you made the characters and you OC characters are amazing too. It makes me wish they where in HTF too, like Angus, (Lammy’s ancestor) Samantha, (Splendid’s sister), Tammy, (Cuddles and Toothy’s kid), all of Cuddles siblings, everyone’s moms just all of your OC’s definitely deserve to make it into the show if it ever comes back. I’d love to to anything to bring HTF back. We can bring HTF back together. With all the fanmade stuff people are making, like Amensia, Nemao’s fanmade episodes, Drama Days’ Splendid series, EIB, etc, we can definitely make it possible since that shows that people still care about the show. Happy Tree Friends is my favourite cartoon and programme and I’d love to give it a revival. Let’s all bring HTF back to life, together. Emmy, you have actually inspired me to do some projects and art pieces, like your ‘Cannibal’ comic. It has inspired me to do a comic that I’ll be working on for the whole summer, but I won’t spoil it yet! I’ll keep it a surprise until the cover is out. I love so many of your projects like TSOTSS, Cannibal, Tammy’s Arc, Understanding Nolan, I’m Not Leaving and my favourite is A Stolen Heart, your Lifty X Splendid fanfic and my favourite HTF ship. Emmy, you are the best artist I’ve ever seen and nothing will change that. You art is so inspiring to me. You are the best.

And that’s them all! These 5 artists have inspired me to do the art I do today!

Kika-ila

thegreatrouge

TheWallop-Cat12

Pupster0071

EmmyJeanBean

NONE OF THE ART BELOW IS MINE! ALL CREDITS GO TO THE ARTISTS ABOVE.

#total drama #total drama island #total drama action #total drama world tour #total drama revenge of the island #total drama all stars #total drama pahkitew island #bendy and the ink machine #bendy and boris the quest for the ink machine #cuphead #happy tree friends #htf #htf fanart #thegreatrouge

[ominousmotion]

Thank you for the tag @nanoa1foryou 💕

I'm sorry this took me so long to get to 💕 (blame baldurs gate 3)

Star Sign: Libra

Favorite holiday: Oh man I am not a big holiday person tbh but I have a kind of personal holiday which is march 11th bc for 2 years in a row I got new tattoos that day so thats the kai gets a new tattoo day lol

Last meal: Chicken Noodle soup with Cheezits

Current favorite musician: Probably We Came As Romans I've had them on repeat quite a bit

Last music I listened to: D4MAGE DONE by I See Stars

Last movie I watched: Uhh I think it was Howls Moving Castle

Last tv show watched: Peaky Blinders

Last book/fic finished: A mandalorian fic called Short debts make long friends

Last book/fic abandoned: A Baldurs gate 3 Astarion/tav fic I chose to read the Mando fic instead

Currently reading: A Mando fic called Eyes of Gold and the first Percy Jackson book

Last thing researched for writing/art: I was looking up custom brushes for Ibis paint X

Favorite online fandom memory: Making the life on the pride side shirt w Gemma and facetiming w her and Ju to surprise them with the shirt

Favorite old fandom you wish would drag you back in/have a resurgence: Im not really out of my old fandoms except marvel but I wouldn't be mad to get draged deeper in to Doctor Who again

Favorite thing you enjoy that never had an active or big fandom: oh man ive always primarily been apart of super active fandoms i guess this might qualify but i absolutely love humans are space orcs stuff and ive never see it super often and i wish i saw it more

Tempting project your trying to rein in/don't have time for: i think i have like 3 or 4 wips rn 2 of which are pointilism portraits and im lowkey avoiding them bc i know that they take hundreds of hours to complete

Tagging @another-sun @kraeuterhexchen @there-is-just-me-myself-and-i @necessarytragedies @tomorrows-unknown as always feel free to ignore me if youve already done this or just if you feel like it 💕

#tag games

[felizusnavidad]

oooh the last two anon replies got me fired up so here's my manifesto i guess.

the universal hating on lin manuel miranda comes down to a few factors that most of the time have nothing to do with his actual mistakes:

their cringe history is reflected in him and they can't deal with it. let it be known that it is not lin who created miku binder jefferson. that was entirely a monster of our making. and somehow, his enthusiasm and willingness to interact with fan content (i remember everyone loving him for it) is worthy of punishment in relation.

he's an easy scapegoat to dump criticism on because people already feel so comfortable speaking on him. like you said, it's crazy that people will paint out lin manuel miranda, the guy who changed broadway and did so much for POC roles, to be the big baddie. he's made mistakes, and there's a lot we can discuss about hamilton's legacy, etc., but damn. where's this energy for everyone else? is it a case of "he actually tried, therefore we have material to latch onto and tear down?"

a lot of what he does is successful and in the public eye! it's crazy but i see people going "why is lin manuel miranda in everything" about projects from the 2000s, like yeahh he didn't just make hamilton and then disappear for your own convenience. if anything it's a statement about how a lot of his work, like it or not, is remembered over time. the reaction to him being in percy jackson was crazy to me because i KNOW for a fact that you did not see his dark materials or tick tick boom; at most you know him from moana and hamilton. and then complaining that he "threatened disney to be in everything they do" smh.

he's not your typical white boy of the month. this might be a loaded statement but sue me, i think it's true. POC celebrities have a limited amount of time in the sun compared to white celebrities. a white actor having multiple roles in a year is okay, and it means they're a hard worker. but when it's a POC actor, their presence is conspicuous. their presence becomes bothersome. public goodwill dries up so much faster. even pedro pascal, i feel, has been talked about with eye-rolls recently. i read a very interesting paper about this.

it's fun! the internet's chosen him as their punching bag, and there are no consequences to online hating if everyone else agrees. i bet a lot of people think they're just joking.

and all of this makes it such that if they do find out about some of his actual mistakes, it's a relief. i legitimately saw a tiktok comment section filled with bashing, and someone said "this is so hilarious but kinda mean, the guy didn't do anything" and someone said with "actually he did this this and this" and they replied "oh thank god, i don't feel bad now!" so it's not "oh let's see if this person improved" it's "phew! i have a legitimate reason to continue what i've been doing all along!"

it's crazy because i'm not even a lmm fan necessarily. i've just been in the musical community for years and noticed all of this happening surrounding his very popular work. you all will rue the day! 10 yrs later or so people are going to start making those "he deserved better" posts but i will not forgive or forget.

i don't know if you want me to respond to every single thing you wrote here, but i appreciate the message, especially when it comes from someone who's not really a fan - it only shows me that it's possible not to be in the fandom & still be respectful.

don't even get me started on miku binder jefferson, it's probably the most ridiculous thing i've ever seen in my life. also, one thing i need to point out is that NOT EVERYONE in this fandom is like that, & i think i'm a perfect example of a person who just enjoys lin's art & likes talking about it & analizing things, but not enjoying all those weird cringe things that were created by the fandom (like the one you mentioned), so like... maybe a certain part of the fandom was the problem, not the creator of the thing? i have nothing against fanfiction in general, nothing against fanarts but like... some people are ruining the thing cause it's just too much. like the famous lmm cannibal mermaid fanfiction, come on guys, be serious, what the actual fuck???

i also agree with the percy jackson thing, i remember seeing all the hate even before the episode with him dropped & honestly i couldn't stand it, the pjo fandom ruined all the fun for me & i literally had to block pjo tag lol. then the episode was out & everyone was suddenly like OH, HE WAS ACTUALLY GOOD, well guess what bitch, i've been saying this all the time, he is actually a good actor & you are just a miserable hater. this fandom is toxic as fuck. also, you think he's everywhere? i do know a lot of other celebrities who actually ARE everywhere these days & somehow no one is sick of them??? so maybe people really are just racists. also, this is literally his job lol what do you expect him to do, disappear forever?

i will not forgive or forget either. like i said before, i'm aware that he made some mistakes, it's not like he didn't apologize for some of them, also he's not perfect, but no one is. all i'm trying to say is that there are more problematic people but somehow everyone feels the need to hate on him. you picked the wrong guy, just let him be.

#i will always defend him no matter what #i literally HAD a friend who called him a disgusting piece of shit because of all the bad things he did & said he should die #& this person is a swiftie who can see no bad things in taylor's behaviour looool #i had to block the bitch #anyway #thanks for the message once again #have a nice day anon #lin manuel miranda #lmm #anon #i saved every letter you wrote me*

[one-gold-sunflower]

Desert here, huh.

So much has changed since last time, but I don't plan on deleting either insta or here. I still like my old art and given it's not linked to any trauma, I'm fine it being a semi archive for now.

Might draw Eddsworld at times. Might not. I will never move on from this interest of mine, but it became more dormant as more recent hyperfixations took its place (looking at you, Trigun). I still enjoy my own headcanons and stories, I just will not interact with the fandom or the official accounts whatsoever due to it still triggering my flight or fight reaction (I saw the official account surf on the HH trend the other week... never blocked so fast).

This blog started as a way for me to draw something I had severed connection with due to my past, without putting attention to my main. Now it's more like a small side project.

I'm pretty sure I have unposted art still in my drawers in my room that I'll send here if I find it. But yeah, doubt I'll really post as regularly as I used to. I found my peace, and I hope you did too. Maybe I'll do an anniversary piece, who knows!

#writing post #came back because of the ai changes and get this blog opted out #felt nostalgic at the end and wrote this

[doubleappled]

About the blogger meme

Thank you to @bioloyg for the tag and the fic callout! Team Pete forever and for always!

Star Sign: Libra, but it never resonates the way my enneagram 2 does

Favorite Holidays: Groundhog Day. I love those little dudes (although I wish we could leave them in peace so maybe let’s just celebrate their existence and not force our way into their homes)

Last Meal: Enchiladas for dinner

Last Music Listened To: Waxahatche’s Great Thunder

Last Movie Watched: hmmmm in the theater? I think Bottoms, which I adored

Last TV Show Watched: Shameless. I’m in the beginning of season 9 and it is messing me up in 5000 different ways. The acting is great (sometimes) and the writing is awful (mostly) and the storylines are ridiculous (always) and it’s at least 5 or 6 seasons too long. But every once in a while it really makes you think, and it’s completely gotten under my skin. And I will finish it if it’s the last thing I ever do. And it might be, because wow.

Last Book/Fic Finished: I just finished Justin Torres’ Blackouts and I LOVED it. And the most recent chapter of @glitterslag’s It's Been You and Me Since Before I Was Me — is a witchy creepy Appalachian Gothic MASTERPIECE that I adore. Oh and Blissymbolics’ Colorless Richie Jerimovich, also a masterpiece even though it is sydrichie and that is giving me a teeny tiny identity crisis okay moving on

Last Book/Fic Abandoned: I am thisclose to giving up on Lessons In Chemistry. I do not get this book at all.

Currently Reading: nobody ever got my soul right like she could by seh28

Last Thing Researched for Art/Writing/Hyperfixation: Quite a bit about what happens to children of people wirh narcissistic personality disorder (hi Donna, yes I am armchair psychologizing and pathologizing a fictional character) for the fic I’m currently writing. I’m not a really intense researcher, but I’ve read all about elevator mechanics and ancient marriage rites and British parking tickets and EMP’s 2019 spring menu and how to cook uni and where pastina comes from, all for fics. I love that aspect of writing.

Favorite Online Fandom Memory: It’s embarrassing, but it’s probably the first time that one of my favorite fic authors commented on one of my own fics, ca. 2018. I was on the subway, and I dropped my phone on the disgusting wet floor when I saw the incredibly lovely comment they’d posted.

FaNvorite Old Fandom You Wish Would Drag You Back In/Have A Resurgence: I really only have two old fandoms, but I do miss HP quite a bit. It’s such a robust space, with really nice people, and so many different fests and prompts and challenges. I still read a bit when my favorite authors post, and would like to write for it again someday. (Also, if you’re the anon who’s messaged me multiple times to tell me that my new fics aren’t as good or creative as my HP, and that I “used to be a good writer” — please stop. That’s not the way to convince me to go back, and it makes me feel bad)

Favorite Thing You Enjoy That Never Had an Active or Big "Fandom" but You Wish It Did: Truly I’ve never experienced a hyperfixation like I have with The Bear. I wish fanfic had existed in its current state when I was younger, or that I’d been cool enough to figure out the concept and write it on my own. I would have been VERY ACTIVE in a Dead Poets Society fandom if it had existed when I was obsessed with that movie, a decade after it came out, when I watched it practically every day for a year 🤪

Tempting Project You're Trying to Rein In/Don't Have Time For: I just have 15 different Bear WIPs, none of which have any plot, wooo!

Anyway this was all very fun to think about. Tagging @amieraisposting @kdbleu @justabovewater20 @yannaryartside @glitterslag — only if this is your jam — and anyone else who wants to join in.

#ask meme #nice way to spend an evening avoiding the nonsense I really should be doing

[stormyoceans]

The dark season is nice for some, but quite hard for others.

To tackle this, we're launching once again this year's "Secret Helpers" and everyone is invited to join in!

How does it work?

It's very simple!

Choose 5 fan works. It doesn't matter whether they are gifs, video edits, fanarts, metas, analyses or fanfictions. Do you have something that has completely changed, inspired, destroyed or touched you? THAT'S what you need!

And now it goes on

Step 2: Write feedback to the creator of your favorite. No matter how long, how short, no matter what language, no matter if anonymous or under your official account, write what you liked and why. Jump over your shadow and let them know that this work of theirs has given you a good time.

Step 3: Spread "Secret Helpers" anonymously to others. No matter who you come across on tumblr or elsewhere on the internet, whether mutual or random, send them the instructions and let them keep spreading good news.

A lot of things are not going well lately. So we try to let those who give us a little break in the chaos know that we're glad to have them.

FAQ:

I have only seen one fan work that I liked. - No problem, write to the person anyway.

Isn't that weird? - Nope. (We are on the internet. Everything is kinda weird and ey, you don’t have to use your official account to send the feedback)

There. Are. TOO MANY! - 5 is a minimum number. If you have the time, write to as many as you want, everyone will be happy to get some compliments on their work!

The creators I like are all totally unknown - Especially for fanartists who don't get much feedback yet, each of those is worth its weight in gold. The fanfiction is amazing, but only has 2 comments? Become number 3! The fanart has 36 likes, but looks like a fucking work of art? Write that to the creator! Motivation is all babeyyy, regardless of whether it's the fandom favorite or someone completely new.

Have fun and good luck Secret Helpers!

THIS IS SUCH A LOVELY PROJECT!!!!!!!!! it's so important to spread positivity, especially to content creators who often have to deal with a lack of feedback and their works getting stolen, so im glad you gave me the chance to do this by sharing it with me, anon, thank you!!!!!!

i think that to follow the rules of the project i should probably write to the creators in private or by sending them an ask (?), but to try to give them more visibility and help them reach new people who maybe aren't familiar with their works yet, i thought i could talk a little about some of my favorites here (not that i have that many followers but you know. also for the two creators who aren't on tumblr i WILL make sure to leave them a nice comment too), so here we go!!!!!

in no particular order:

the entire vice versa web weaving series by @daymork. i tell you i wish i could have all these edits collected in one of those fancy ass art books with a hard cover that cost almost a hundred bucks just so that i could flip through it at any given moment to contemplate the beauty of said edits and cry myself to sleep holding it to my chest as i think about puentalay. i have no idea how jessi did it but every single quote she used for these is so perfect that no matter how many times i reread them they never fail to reduce me to a sobbing mess of a woman who is in dire need of receiving mental health care provided by professionals in an institutionalized setting. my point is. i love them. i love them a lot.

the quote by ocean vuong last twilight edit by @morkofday. i could literally put any of vish’s vice versa edits here because it’s like they’re all specially crafted to deal as much emotional damage as humanly possible to me personally, but in the end i decided to pick this one because, to this day, it’s still my favorite last twilight edit ever made. there's just something about it that stayed with me since i first saw it a whole year ago (im not even kidding when i say i think about it an average of twelve times per day) and even if it was done based on the mock trailer alone, vish was somehow able to perfectly capture the spirit of the show, not just by using that particular quote (which is incredibly spot on like when day and mork were talking about tenderness in episode 4 i thought of this edit right away and had to go punch through a wall to cope) but also because of the colors and the pictures that she chose.

the the man who can't be moved puentalay gifset by @seatawinans. you think episode 11 of vice versa has already reached the pinnacle of life altering emotional devastation and cathartic experience, and then you see this gifset and suddenly you find yourself decaying into subatomic particles to cope, committing grand scale larceny and arson to deal, and doing daily affirmations like 'this is affecting me a normal amount! :)' in front of the mirror every morning to survive. truly i have no words to properly express just how much the 'thinking maybe you'll come back here to the place that we'd meet/and you'll see me waiting for you on the corner of the street' lines over the glasshouse scenes make me sick in the head, it's the parallelism romanticism soulmatism of it all and somehow cassi managed to make it worse (read: better).

the underneath the stars by the cure morkday fanart by twitter user @bleu1te. i honestly love all of bleuité's puentalay and morkday works so much, there's just something so soft and tender in the way this artist draws them that every time i look at their art it gives me the same feeling of safety and comfort that i so deeply associate with these two pairings. i picked this one in particular because i fell in love with it as soon as i saw it, i love the colors, i love the starry sky behind them, i love their expressions, and most of all i love the hand placement. idk how to explain it, but i think the way they're touching just really conveys how much they adore each other.

the enchanted by taylor swift morkday video by twitter user @jimmyseagatitos. you know when someone punches you in the stomach and it hurts so much that you just start laughing hysterically? this is the closest description i can give to try to explain what this video did to me on a psychological emotional spiritual mental and physical level. and because apparently im a masochist i've been rewatching it only like 92649626 times in the span of three days. i also think it's pretty damn genius to end the edit on the 'i'll spend forever wondering if you knew' line of the song because it leaves everything unspoken just what mork never got to say.

this is obviously very far from being a comprehensive list (especially since my memory is pretty bad and my main interests are currently very limited ;;;;), so for the next couple of weeks i will try to reach out to my favorite creators (in private this time, i promise) and give them some love!!!!! and if anyone sees this, please consider doing it too!!!!!

#im not good at writing comments and i should have probably waited to do this on a day where i felt better about my english and my words but #i know myself and i would end up procrastinating this so i still wanted to try to do something #i've also never done something like this so please let me know if i did something wrong!!!! #secret helpers #m: ask #last twilight the series #vice versa

[landoom]

Thanks @twinkodium for the tag! And sorry for doing it so late!

Star sign:

Aries

Favorite holiday:

Christmas because I love the decorations, the lights, etc... And it's the only holiday where we really exchange gifts! I love gifting as much as receiving! And the food!!

Last meal:

Japanese takeout : salmon teriyaki + scampi skewers + cabbage salad

Currently favorite musician:

I don't really have one! At the moment I listen a lot to Martin Garrix, Maneskin and Passenger.

Last music listened to:

Chasing Gold by Passenger

Last movie watched:

Wonka. Saw it at the cinema on Tuesday

Last TV show watched:

Doctor Who Christmas Special : The Church on Ruby Road

Last book/fic finished:

La maison des lumières by Donato Carrisi. I love this author a lot but I don't think all of his books are translated in English! But if you read in French or Italian and love psychological thrillers, you might like him!

Last book/fic abandoned:

Too many!!

Currently reading:

The Last Devil to Die by Richard Osman

Last thing researched for writing/art/hyperfixation:

The F1 2023 calendar, of course! Apart from that, info about dom/sub healthy relationship!

Favorite online fandom memory:

I have many but taking part in Merlin Kinkalot is always a highlight because of the team challenge that always bring us together in a very healthy competition!

Favorite Old Fandom You Wish Would Drag You Back In/Have A Resurgence:

Saint Seiya! It was a big thing in French, Italian and Spanish but it never reached such a popularity amongst English writers/readers

Favorite Thing You Enjoy That Never Had an Active or Big "Fandom" but You Wish It Did:

Ski jumping RPF!

Tempting Project You're Trying to Rein In/Don't Have Time For:

In general : too many to lists! I want to try so many things!! Fandom-wise : I'd love to write a fic following a character or a ship for the whole F1 season and writing as the season goes on

Tagging (feel free to ignore) : @eneasbastianini @jolandax13 @grbambi63 @artemispt @artielotl @wisteria-wisteria @nnato @lottie1824

#tag game

[innerslumber]

I know this might sound silly but I am feeling really emotional over the messages I've gotten over the Marvel Exhibit posts. I've had people thank me for sharing because they will probably never get a chance to see it. I've had people who has already seen the exhibit but the stuff I saw was new for them and how much they enjoyed it. It's just...been really gratifying.

Because going to this exhibit has been on my To Do list for months. When I finally escaped my abusive spouse with my children, all I could think 24/7 was how do I protect them and how do I get our family stable. And I remember one of my kids' counselor telling me that I need to pick at least one thing for myself. One thing that is just for me because he said I deserved good things too. That I should be free to have an afternoon where I can have fun, without worry and guilt.

And every month, like clockwork, he'd ask me if I had gone to see it. And every time I had an excuse. Oh I was busy meeting my lawyer because I'm about to go to court. Oh I gotta get our new apartment set up. Oh my friends are busy and they can't help watch the kids. There was always something more important because there was so much to do. But the truth was, I was also just so scared. What if my kids got sick while I was gone and I couldn't be at the school right away? What if my car broke down and I got stranded? What if I missed an important call because I was too distracted? Just scared scared scared.

But the exhibit was leaving in April and I knew the clock was ticking. So I finally picked a date when I knew my kids would be looked after, bought a ticket and went.

I remember at the start of the tour, the museum employee said most people spend 30-40 minutes to get through it. I spent almost 3 hours. I read every plaque, stared at the art and costumes from every angle, and even looped back to see things when the crowd had thinned out. Just so I can savor it. Because I felt this panic, like if I don't seize this moment, I'll never be allowed to enjoy something alone again.

But after the tour was over, I went and got lunch and let it sink in. That this wasn't my last chance to enjoy something for myself. That it was okay to enjoy myself. That I was allowed to. I could eat this food that I normally wouldn't have ordered because my spouse would complain about the smell of the food I grew up with. That I could enjoy it without censure or ridicule. I didn't have to rush back and be terrified that I would be late and get screamed at. I could actually pay for this lunch from my own bank account. That I didn't have to sneak around using cash that I had squirreled away so my purchases wouldn't give away my location on the online bank statement. I could just...sit there and watch people walk by in the sun while I sipped my soda and...it was okay. I didn't have to feel guilty that I was alone and enjoying an afternoon doing something "frivolous".

And it just really hit me why I even wanted to go to the Marvel exhibit in the first place. Because luckily I fell into this fandom just when my life was at its darkest. All the wonderful friends, fics, art and crazy posts that helped me get through all the lonely, scary, painful days and nights. Reading Bucky recovery fics after he escaped his torture and brainwashing and telling myself I can do that too. Then feeling stupid that I was projecting so hard on a fictional character but desperately wishing I had a Steve too.

My therapist told me that recovering from trauma is not linear and I'm going to have good days and bad days. And sometimes it will take days before my mind processes things completely. Over a week passed since I went to the exhibit and I found myself crashing. I know it may seem ridiculous but in my mind, I was setting a pin on this outing. A bright shining lodestone in my mental eye. A box that I could tick saying, "Yes. You're finally at a point where you can allow yourself to have this." And now that I was on the other side of it, I felt a bit lost.

But I was scrolling through the pictures I took and I decided to share on the blog. Initially I was just going to send some to friends in DMs but I changed my mind. Editing 90 images and writing up posts at 3 am was probably not a good life choice but fuck it, I never said I was smart lololol.

So I'm really glad that I was able to give something back to the fandom that's given me so much through this difficult time in my life. It's just pictures and my crack commentary but I'm happy that it gave other fans some serotonin. Some days I feel this imposter syndrome where I'm barely holding it together and I am sure I'm not the only one. But it feels so damn good when my friends and I can squeal over our favorite characters and just take unabashed joy in it.

Because for the first time in a long time, my body is my own, my mind is my own and my heart is my own. I can empty my mind of the pain and fill my heart with love.

And where my mind and my heart wants to go, they can. Even to go see some superhero tights.

#personal thoughts #PTSD #recovery from trauma #stucky #fandom love #gosh i got so fucking lucky meeting you all #what a bunch of stand up impossibly loving human beings #i hope we can keep squealing over Bucky and Steve together for a long time #or any other ships you all indoctrinate me into hahaha #love you #Marvel: Universe of Super Heroes