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blindmagdalena · 2 years

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❛ i realized what was the matter, what had always been the matter — i was deeply and incurably in love with her. ❜ 👉🏻👈🏻

Anonymous asked: Hi :D can i have a ❛ i’m telling you all of a sudden, but it isn’t new with me. i love you. ❜ with a pining homelander? :D AO3 Link. Familiarity and consistency feed a base need in all of us; stability. For Homelander, there are precious few things in his life that offer him any of the above. People come and go. It's the nature of the business. He's stopped paying attention to the PA's, interns and other worker ants that rotate in and out. Their faces blend together in a bland sea of normality and mediocrity. They're little more than cogs in the machine of his contrastingly extraordinary life.

Funny, then, that you should catch his attention amidst the buzz of it all.

It happens quite abruptly. He's just sat down before a brightly lit vanity, where it's your job to style his hair and makeup, as it has been for the last several months. You greet him good morning, as you do every time, but for whatever reason… He notices you today.

"Remind me, what's your name again?" Homelander asks, watching you draw a comb from your kit.

That catches you off guard. You stare at him for a moment before snapping to attention, smiling sheepishly as you introduce yourself. The name doesn't sound familiar to him. Had he never actually asked? Probably not. Why would he bother?

He hums. "You've been styling me for awhile," he notes, tone contemplative.

"Yes, sir. About eight months now," you say, using the comb to begin working product through his hair. You're fairly certain this is the most he's ever spoken to you in all that time.

To Homelander, that sounds like both a long while and yet no time at all. It's nothing in the grand scheme, but in terms of the people he sees consistently, that puts you in a shockingly small pool of individuals.

From that day forward, it's like you suddenly exist to him.

"Gooood morning," he greets you the next day, which comes as something of a surprise to you. He never initiates.

"Good morning to you, sir," you say with a smile that catches his eye.

You're actually quite pretty, he notices. Not exceptionally so, not like the celebrities and figures of social influence that someone like him brushes shoulders with on a daily basis, but... pretty nonetheless. He doesn't remember you being this pretty before, and speculates whether you've changed something about yourself. He cannot put his finger on what that may be, though.

Homelander waves his hand dismissively. "Please, Homelander is fine. You keep it awfully formal."

You laugh, pushing your fingers through his hair. His eyes flutter shut as you do. "I'm a creature of habit. Might take me a couple tries to adjust," you warn, covering his forehead with your palm as you spritz product into his hair. He likes that you never let any of that sticky crap get on his face. You always take care of him, taking all these little measures to ensure his comfort, even though he’s never complained. You seem to do it entirely out of reflex simply because you care enough to.

"Well, you've made it this far. You've got time to adjust," he says. Now that he's seen you, he doesn't care for the thought of you being gone.

More and more, he starts looking forward to the time he spends in the chair with you. What used to be a monotonous aspect of the celebrity side of his life has become a comforting ritual. The two of you chat easily, like old friends made new. He tells you about himself, vents to you about work and personal business alike, and in turn he learns about you, and the life you live beyond the time he spends with you. It’s nothing extraordinary, not like his, but it's yours.

The more he grasps that you are an entire person outside of the service you provide him, the more he wants to know. He doesn’t give a fuck about your elderly cat, but he does like the way your voice changes when you talk about it. His mind drifts when you tell him these little anecdotes, and he wonders what you tell the people in your life about him. He wonders if your tone changes when you do. Do you speak fondly of him?

Days turn to weeks, and weeks to months. Little by little, Homelander discerns small changes in himself. There’s a slight pep in his step these days. The sun feels a little warmer, the thrum of crowded events less irritating. His attitude towards interviews flips; even the ones he used to dread, he begins to anticipate. He knows you’ll have him looking and feeling his finest. When he has nothing on his schedule to be styled for, he sulks.

On those days, he misses your laugh. He makes sure the products he keeps at home are the same as the ones you use. The smell of them reminds him of the smell of you, of your knock-off Dior perfume that fades too quickly after you apply it, which makes it just perfect for his keen sense of smell. The subtlety of you, your sincerity and gentleness, have become a boon against the corporate, unfeeling reality of his day to day life.

On the days he does see you, he begins to miss you before you’re even gone.

Now, as he walks to his next scheduled appointment with you, he’s painfully aware of the beat of his own heart. His stomach is twisting in on itself, though he isn’t hungry. If anything, he feels a little… nauseous. The closer he gets to the door, the louder the cacophony inside of him becomes. Is he sick? That shouldn’t be possible, but he can’t understand what’s happening to him.

Pausing just outside the door, Homelander takes in a steadying breath. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Collecting himself, he gives his face two quick pats on either side, shaking his head. Get it together , he tells himself, stepping into the dressing room. “Gooood morn–” Homelander cuts himself short, looking around the room. His brows pinch. He knows he isn’t early. Pursing his lips, he takes a brief stroll about the room, clutching his hands behind his back. He peers down the hallway, cutting through the layers of wall with his vision. No sign of you on the grounds yet. He clicks his tongue. You’ve never been late.

Unable to settle, Homelander paces for a while. He has the thought to call you, but he realizes he doesn’t have your number. Why doesn’t he have your number? It seems such a silly, obvious thing to have, despite the fact he’s never needed it. He’s just pulled out his cellphone to track it down from Ashley when the door suddenly opens, and his head snaps up. The initial relief he feels is cut sharply short, turning cold in his chest when the person who steps through the door is not you.

“Good morning!” The woman greets him, chirpy and fake, grating in Homelander’s ears. She’s not really happy to see him. She doesn’t know the first fucking thing about him. His leather gloves creak as he curls his hands into fists.

“Who the fuck are you?” He asks, voice as measured as he can manage it. His anger comes in an unreasonable surge. This woman’s only crime is the fact she’s not you, and yet it’s enough to make him want to rip her head off her shoulders.

The woman hesitates in the doorway, her friendly demeanor flipped immediately to a fearful one. “Uhm, my name is Lisa, I’m supposed to style you to–”

“Where is my stylist?” Homelander interrupts her, stepping close, prowling towards her like a hungry predator. He says again, louder this time, voice full of anger and anxiety in equal measure, “Where the fuck is my stylist?!”

“I– I don’t know!” Lisa yelps, stepping backwards from him. “I was called in as a last minute replacement! They said– they said there was an accident, or–”

Homelander pushes her roughly out of the doorway, blowing past her with a frustrated growl. She hits the wall before crumpling to the floor like a sack of potatoes, but he doesn’t even register it. Why the fuck didn’t anyone think to tell him?

“Ashley!” He snarls into his phone the second she answers. “Tell me where the fuck my goddamn stylist is.” ~~~~~~

Homelander is at the hospital within minutes. The staff puts up a meager effort to enforce protocols, but he IS The Homelander, and they inevitably let him through.

You’re sitting with the hospital bed halfway reclined, wearing nothing but a hospital gown when he steps in. The vibrant reds and blues of his suit paint a sharp contrast to the stark white walls of the hospital room. You have a pudding cup in your hand, though you nearly drop it when you see him in the doorway. His hair is unstyled, splayed loose in every direction from his flight.

“H-Homelander,” you sputter, choking on your bite of pudding. You swallow, clearing your throat. He’s walking towards you. The closer he gets, the faster your heart beats. “What are you doing here?”

“Are you okay?” He asks, blowing off your question entirely. He blinks, and his vision flickers. He scans your body for internal damage, for broken or fractured bones. You’re not wearing a cast or anything, but he needs to be sure.

You nod, clutching at the blanket, wearing your confusion plainly on your face. “Yeah, I’m okay, it’s probably just mild whiplash, but I’m getting an x-ray to be–”

“You’re fine,” he breathes, more to himself than to you, though his relief is palpable. He can hear the flustered patter of your heart clearly. With the adrenaline wearing off, he’s beginning to feel that sickly familiar feeling that he had experienced in the hallway; butterflies rampant in his stomach, battering their wings frantically inside him. His jaw feels tight, his tongue too big for his mouth.

Staring at you now, frail and precious as you are in this ugly hospital bed, he realizes what’s the matter, what has always been the matter– he is deeply and incurably in love with you.

“Are you okay?” You ask, taking in his tortured expression, his wildly wind-swept hair. It would make you laugh if he didn’t look worried sick.

“No,” he says, the response knee-jerk. Even though the room is still, he feels as though the world is spinning around him. “No, I think… I think I’m in love with you,” he says, expression twisted up, like he’s figuring out each word as he says them.

Your heart skips a beat, and your breath catches in your lungs. The bewildered confession utterly paralyzes you.

Homelander laughs. It sounds a little hysterical. “I’m telling you all of a sudden, but it isn’t new with me,” he says, reaching out to cup either side of your face in his gloved hands. “I love you,” he says, voice firmer now, the realization setting in fully. He looks a little delirious with it. He’s discovered a secret that he should have known all along, that seems so obvious in hindsight. Of course he loves you, because you love him .

The gentleness in your hands as you touched his face, the care in your fingers stroking through his hair far longer than both of you knew you needed to.You dedicated yourself like no other to showing him reverence in service, and is that not love in its purest form?

And yet, you don’t look to share his elation.

You feel like you’ve been struck by lightning, tingling all over with pure shock. You’re not sure if you’re lightheaded because of his words, or because you’ve forgotten how to breathe properly. Either way, you manage to suck in a shaky breath, blinking several times.

Homelander’s smile falters. “What’s the matter?” He asks, tone dropping slightly. “This is good news! Great, even.” For every second that you do not speak, the beat of his heart feels heavier in his chest. Why don’t you look happy?

“I…” You don’t know what to say. You lift your hands and grip his wrists, squeezing them through the thick fabric of his gloves to convince yourself that this is actually happening. Maybe the accident was worse than you thought, and you’re hallucinating. “I never… I never would have thought, or even dreamed, in a million years… You would love me back.”

Like a dying flame stoked back to life, Homelander’s demeanor reignites, his fading smile broadening once more. “I was worried when you were late,” he says, leaning closer to you. He’s near enough that you can smell the ozone lingering on his skin from the way he tore through the sky to reach you. He huffs a laugh that feels warm on your lips. “They sent in some idiot to fill in for you, like they could replace you that easily. I almost tore her head off,” he muses quietly.

Your brows furrow. “Wait, what?” He almost did what now?

“I’m gonna kiss you,” he says, his voice a low rumble.

You shiver with it, nodding minutely, eyes falling shut. “Please do.”

Homelander’s lips are unbelievably soft against yours. You can’t help but melt completely against him, relaxing fully into his grip. Maybe it’s the pain meds, but you feel like you’re flying. Your stomach is doing backflips while his lips move against yours, gentle and exploratory, learning the feel of you.

When the two of you break apart, you exhale, laughing breathlessly. You move your hands to touch his face. You’ve seen it countless times, been close enough to kiss it a dozen more, but the barrier of reality has always been a thick wall from it. You scarcely let yourself fantasize about it, let alone come anywhere close to acting on such thoughts.

Glancing up, you cannot help but laugh more earnestly at the wild splay of his hair. “And people wonder why I use so much gel,” you murmur, pushing both of your hands into his hair to smooth it down, cupping the back of his head. Homelander smiles so wide and boyishly, you can’t help but kiss him again.

“I’m not out of my mind on pain meds right now, right?” You ask quietly, the tip of your nose lightly pressed to his. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack,” he purrs, kissing you gentler than you thought possible. “You’ll be seeing a whole lot more of me from now on.”

Maybe you’ll send flowers to the guy that rear-ended you this morning. You’re pretty sure he changed your life forever.

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #i hope y'all like this one!! i saw the two and just felt like they would work so well together #thanks for sending them!!!#my writing #darling anon #ask and you shall receive #lord this turned out so freaking long #i CANNOT proofread to save my life but let me know if there's some glaring error lmao #fluff #all of a sudden there you are

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barghest-land · 10 days

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drawings from paleo expedition to dagestan, done right on the trip. sometimes messy when it was cold and rainy, but i won't correct it. i think it's cool to leave it just the way it was done, and not retouch it after. there will be more drawings later, but those will be done from home

#i need to draw for 2 museums at least to then send it to them as a gift cuz people there were so nice???? AAAA #and yeah im definitely doing back #maybe in autumn... who knows #barghestland #art #artists on tumblr #and #paleoart #???#in a way it is i guess #also i usually don't share things from my sketchbook. but these drawings hold so many nice memories #of clouds that hide top of the mountains #of sitting on a rock #drawing and seeing a scorpion vibing next to u (tiny friend!)#of leaning on a big cow and almost falling asleep on a field with her after the rain #of... forgetting the pain too #of not wanting to even talk about the wonderful time i've had. because it was only for me to remember #so much happened up in the mountains that i'll never forget #thank u big rocks and soil and grass and apricot trees i love you #...#paleoland

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milk-lover · 6 months

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Sobbing uncontrollably reading through a dissertation about the college experience of students with ADHD. It is like reading a report about my life that just says over and over "My experiences are real. My hardships are real. I am not lazy, I am not dumb. My struggles were not my fault, and they were not a moral failing. The failure was with the system, not with me."

Here's a line that got me in particular:

"Hotez et al.(2022) compared the health, academic, and non-academic capacities of a nationally representative sample of U.S. first-year college students with ADHD and without ADHD. Students with ADHD self-reported lower academic aspirations and more feelings of depression and overwhelm, ranking themselves lower in their general emotional health. The fact that students with ADHD scored in the highest 10th percentile for many non-academic traits, such as artistic ability, computer skills, creativity, public speaking, social confidence, self-understanding and understanding of others, compassion, and risk-tasking, suggests that this population has strengths that are frequently underappreciated in academia."

(the paper is a thesis called "Understanding the Collegiate Experience for Students With ADHD" by Gia Long, 2022)

#adhd #actually adhd #i often hyperbolize but i am dead serious when i say sobbing uncontrollably. this is why i was putting off this assignment.#1000 years of hell to professors who assign self-reflection papers /hj #i dont feel comfy posting the pdf bc its not mine butttt.. i will share it to people who dm me.#edit: pages 80-85 #edit: thank you to everyone who reached out and asked for the pdf!! i wasn’t expecting this reaction #keep reaching out I’ll keep sending it #if anyone is interested but struggles to read academic papers pls ask me for help bc I’ve gotten a lot of practice with them and am Glad to #expand someone’s access to a paper like this

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trustyalt · 2 months

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he can't do it when you're watching!!

#drawing this made me the sniler #my art #ultrakill #gabriel ultrakill #animation #video #got this done wayyyyy faster than I was expecting #thank you my long suffering friends who let me send them my wips very three hours

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strangersteddierthings · 7 months

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Beg You to Love Me

"I'm surprised you even remembered, Harrington," Eddie shrugs, hoping he comes off as aloof as he wants to, instead of shaky and unsure like he feels. He was sitting atop the picnic table, arms behind him trying to look as unaffected by Steve's presence as he can, but he's been thrown for a loop ever since Steve emerged from the woods instead of Robin Buckley, like he was expecting.

"Of course, I remember. I- I've never forgotten," Steve whispers, head down and fists clenched at his sides. He looks more like a child being wrongfully scolded than a man defending himself.

The words pull a scoff from Eddie, though. Never forgotten? What the fuck ever. "Right. Something to hold over me, then, if I'd stepped too far out of line? Mutually assured destruction?"

Steve's head snaps up and he looks horrified, which Eddie will admit to almost believing. Steve doesn't seem like the type to join the drama club but his acting's pretty fucking good. "What? No! I would have never- I would never have said anything about us to anyone."

"Right. Sure. Of course. Your own reputation to think about there."

Something like hurt flashes across Steve's face before it frosts over. This is the face he's used to see on Steve. Cold and distant. "I- whatever, man. I don't even know why I thought..." but Steve doesn't finish his sentence. He just shakes his head and turns his back on Eddie, heading back the way he came.

He doesn't know why that sparks a rage from deep within him. "Yeah, that's right. Tuck tail and runaway again!"

"I ran away?" Steve shouts back, turning sharply on his heel to glare at Eddie. "You think that I ran away?"

Eddie just spreads his hands to the empty clearing as if to say 'look at all this room around me you've never occupied'. "You weren't here, were you?"

"Because you told me to not be!" Steve stomps back to Eddie but stops a couple yards away.

"Like fuck I did," Eddie argues back, because he didn't tell Steve to go away. He'd told him-

"'If this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door.' That's what you told me," Steve quotes, "I thought it was pretty fucking clear what you wanted."

"Yeah, I fucking thought it was clear what I wanted," Eddie snarls, lunging from the picnic table, closing those last few feet to get into Steve's face. "Yet here we are!"

"Don't act like this is my fucking fault. Like you weren't the one who forced it to be my fault. My decision-"

"Yeah, it had to be your damn decision! You were dragging it out-"

"-because you were too much of a coward to do it your-fucking-self-"

"-acting like you were. Acting too good to actually slum it with the trailer trash-"

"-so of course I made the choice that was best for me. Because I deserved more-"

"-like what I had to offer you would never be good enough for the goddman King-"

"-than just being your hookup when I wanted to be-"

"-like I wasn't good enough to be your friend, much less-"

"-your fucking boyfriend!"

The contrast of this sudden silence that falls following their screaming match that ends with identical sentiments is jarring. Eddie feels wrong-footed and lost. Confusion and hurt mixing in him that he can see reflected on Steve's face.

"What?" Steve is the first to break the silence, drawing into himself. Arms crossing to hold himself at the elbows as he takes several steps back, as if to be able to see all of Eddie will clear the confusion he's feeling.

Eddie just stares back, slack jawed for a moment. That's. What. No, wait. Really, what? "What what?"

"You- you said 'if this isn't good enough for you, there's the fucking door'. How was I- I thought you- you were breaking up with me!" Steve cries, "you. You said that to make me pick, because you knew I wanted more and you didn't. That's- you were breaking up with me!"

Eddie's in just as much disbelief. "No, you broke up with me! I said if this isn't good enough but, like, I meant if I wasn't good enough. And you left! You walked out because I wasn't good enough to be with you!"

Steve looks stricken and he claws harder at himself, sort of folds into himself like he's going to be sick. "No. No no no, that's- then that means I- it's all been my fault. No no no no."

Eddie stares wide-eyed and frozen as Steve talks to himself. Eddie kind of feels nauseous. There's no way that this is possible. That these last two and a half years of heartbreak have been because of miscommunication. That they both thought the other was breaking up with them and neither actually wanted to.

"Why didn't you- Why didn't you say something?" Eddie asks.

Steve laughs at that, sounding a bit hysteric. "Me!? Why didn't you! I wasn't- I wasn't going to beg you to love me like I had with my parents. You were the one who told me I shouldn't have to do that!"

Yeah. He had. When Steve had broken down and cried on his bed, in his arms, wondering what it was he had done to lose his parents' love. Eddie told him it wasn't his fault, never would be, and that he would never need to beg for love from someone who does love him. It was the same advice Wayne had given him when he'd taken Eddie in.

"I already thought you were wanting to break up. You were being so distant, I thought..."

Steve sucks in a deep breath and nods, "Yeah. Yeah I was. I was scared of scaring you away. Of being too much. Because I- what I felt for you was a lot. I was afraid I'd chase you away if I continued to be so clingy. I pulled back, to reign it in but. Fuck. Fuck!"

Eddie drops to a squat. His legs feel like jelly and he can't keep standing. He squats and looks down so his hair becomes a curtain separating him from the reality of the situation, if only for a moment. Fuck is right.

He's spent his junior and first senior year being pissed at Steve. Hurt by him and what he thought happened. And it's- if Steve's being honest, it's all been for nothing. If they both wanted a deeper relationship, they could have had it. They might still be boyfriends if Eddie hadn't been so wrapped up in his Munson Doctrine. He'd been convincing himself Steve was embarrassed of him, and was working on breaking off their- whatever they were. But he hadn't been.

He's thought such terrible things about Steve over the years. God, what has Steve thought of him over the years? No. He doesn't want to know, actually. That's not what he cares about right now.

He lifts his head to see that Steve's plopped himself onto the ground, sitting cross legged, elbows on his knees and head in his hands.

"Steve. Steve!" He calls Steve's name out until he looks up, looks at him, "why'd you come out here?"

He laughs again, slightly less hysterically, and he's shaking his head like he can't believe what he's about to say. "I. Fuck, I was coming out here to beg you to love me."

"No you fucking weren't!" his tone is filled with disbelief.

"I was," Steve repeats, sounding amused and heartbroken at the same time. "I really, really was. Graduation's coming and I know you want to get out of Hawkins the second that happens and I'm. I was running out of time trying to get you to notice me again, so I was going to beg."

Notice him again? As if Steve doesn't haunt his every waking thought. As if he doesn't dream of Steve every night while his eyes seek him across the halls and in their few shared classes like he's the goddamn night sky and Eddie is a sailor lost at sea needing the north star to guide him home. Eddie's never not noticed him, and he thinks he has to come out here and beg? "When someone loves you, you don't have to beg."

"Yeah, I know," Steve sighs, defeated, which lets Eddie know that Steve does not, in fact, know. He looks away from Eddie, down to his lap.

Fuck, it's like every fantasy Eddie's had of them making up and then making out has been handed to him on a silver platter and he's blowing it. His words are too vague, too easily misinterpreted. Again. He falls forward on to his knees, hands catching him so he's on all fours like an animal. "Steve. I mean it. You don't have to beg."

"I get it, Eddie," Steve huffs, not looking at him. Not actually understanding.

Eddie starts to crawl the distance between them. Steve looks up then, probably to see what the fuck Eddie was doing with the shuffling sounds and the chain on his belt clacking. Eddie watches Steve's eyes go wide, mouth dropping open to a small 'o'. "See, the thing is, Steve," Eddie says, pulling himself up to be just on his knees to shuffle the last few inches closer. Steve leans back to keep his eyes on Eddie's face, which opens his lap up. "You said you know, but I don't think you do." Eddie brings his hands to rest on Steve's shoulders and Steve lets him. "You don't have to beg." He uses his hold on Steve's shoulders to balance himself as he swings a leg wide, to straddle Steve, then shifts his weight to repeat the process with his other leg before settling himself into Steve's lap. Steve's hands land on his hips and Eddie isn't sure if it's intentional or a reaction to Eddie plopping himself in his laps but he's going to believe it's the first one. "You've never had to beg with me."

Steve sucks in a sharp breath and then he collapses into Eddie. Steve's hands on his hips slide up and pull him into a hug, as close to Steve's body as he can get, while Steve shoves his head under Eddie's chin, into the junction of his neck and shoulder and breaths him in like it's the last breath Steve will ever take. "We're so stupid."

"Yeah," Eddie agrees, as he lifts one hand to hold the back of Steve's head while the other drops to rub soothingly at his back. "Yeah, we are."

They sit in the dirt, the closest they've been since that summer between '81 and '82. They should probably talk about. They're going to have to, if they want this to work. Full sentences with no hidden meanings, even though the thought of that kind of vulnerability makes Eddie skittish. It's going to be difficult, but it'll be worth it. Steve has always been worth it.

Eddie wants to say 'I love you', just to get it out, in the open, and not just implied, but there's a different first step to take. One that's actually a little easier. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Me too," Steve whispers, "I'm sorry. I should have-"

"Shut up," Eddie cuts him off, voice quiet and soft as he can be. "This is, and I cannot stress it enough, a we situation."

The huff of laughter on his skin from Steve feels like the start of something. A new beginning, a start over. A re-do.

A goddamn miracle.

Later, they'll drag themselves apart and up. Make it to the back of Eddie's van in the school parking lot to talk. Going to either's house feel too much, too soon. Their big fight happened at Eddie's home, and Steve's house isn't warm enough for the kind of comfort they want to share.

They'll have a talk. Filled with long pauses, stumbling over words and fears and insecurities because this is the hard part of a relationship. Getting it all out in the open so they can learn if they'll even work. The fear that they aren't going to be compatible anymore looms but doesn't deter. They both want a second chance, to give it a real shot, by the end of that first talk. But taking it slow.

They'll discuss what went wrong the first time (diving in without talking about anything certainly played a big part) and how to avoid that.

But that's later. Right now, Eddie just holds Steve, and Steve holds him back, and it certainly feels like the beginning of something good.

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems

#steddie #my fic #this is just Miscommunication The Fic #hurt/comfort #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckleys the mvp for setting up the meeting by lying to eddie #shes going to demand a thank you gift for giving them the time to talk #and eddie WILL send her a whole fruit basket

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harboretum · 2 months

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It's only polite

#ttgtpmb #april fools #boop #harboretum comics #my art blog is a sideblog though so it doesn't show up as from this account lol #thank you for boops though. I feel appreciated #also I keep getting errors so I haven't been able to send all of them back..........

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thesecretsofchickens · 1 year

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Not that I make a ton of sales there, but it looks like I'll be eliminating my Redbubble account. Or rather, *because* I don't make a ton of sales.

They are introducing a new fee structure - aside from the manufacturing costs - that basically penalizes the people who make the *least*.

It caters very much to high-volume, high-sales accounts. Or it can just change when they feel like it, at any time.

Which is great, for people who make a lot. Not so great for people who are just starting out, or are struggling to get their name out there.

*They* decide if you're doing well enough to go up a level.

Anyway seems like it's not going to be worth it for anyone who doesn't have the time/resources/reach to impress them, and the whole "community guidelines" thing seems sketchy.

I get their point - they want people to make more money. But the amount the get for "manufacturing" the products is not insignificant. Adding a fee on top is just rude.

Account Tiers and Fees

How Accounts are Reviewed and Classified

Understanding how the new account fee may apply to you

#also loving how they are sending this message to be “transparent and clear” but have the information spread across several pages #redbubble #capitalism #thanks for buying all those festus shirts #I'll be finding a new home for them

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purplebehittindifferent · 8 days

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I have added a quirky comment here for the last year and a half, however now… I have no words.

jk I have all these words 👇

I know it is very bitter sweet, but this is the end of Reconnecting. Thank you all for coming along on this journey with me. I plan on making a behind the scenes video on my YT sometime soon. Feel free to send any asks you have I want to answer them all!

Please know I am not going to dissapear! I still plan on making content consistently, and my original comic RULE 5 is already underway, and if you’d like I’m certainly not against writing some exposition fics for Reconnecting 💜

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#art #my art #deltarune #reconnecting #reconnecting update #here it is #you’ll never know the vessels real name hehehehhe #anwayyyyy #please send an ask I’m planning on answering them all #man I literally cried so much doing this #this story is so close to my heart and so much actually about me and my journey with my mental condition #I feel like a new chapter of my life just started with this one’s end #ANYHOO NO MORE SAPPY #thank you all for reading #I STILL TAKE COMMISSIONS #also I have really cute headcanons so like- ask for little stories I’ll write em #rule 5 is coming!!! I have a ton of concept art #and yknow I’ll still draw deltarune shenanigans #*SOBBING*

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totally-italy · 26 days

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Wherefore dost motivation hold deep hatred for me?

As the heading probably implies, I am currently lacking a lot of motivation, which is truly sub-optimal because I literally have my Italian GCSEs this week and I literally have not revised. Moreover, my End of Years are fast approaching and I have my French GCSEs in three week's time. Help.

Consequentially, even though my history teacher still refuses to believe that it is a word, I have decided to turn this into one of those posts where my dopamine literally just relies on the number of notes that I recieve. As promised, @the-red-planet-mars, the floor is yours you have been tagged.

Rules:

Please don't spam the comment section.

You can tag a maximum of 5 people.

Please don't spam reblog.

10 notes: I will actually plan my English homework so that I can then do it without having to ask for an extension. It is due on the day on which I have two of my Italian papers.

15 notes: I will update my 'Aeneid' notes so that my virtual document is up to date with the translations that we have done in class. I should technically also revise the themes and how Juno is portrayed, but we don't talk about that right now.

20 notes: If I haven't done this yet, I will create both a Spanish Quizlet with all the vocabulary I need to learn and I will create a Latin one for all the vocabulary from 'The Aeneid' that I need to know.

25 notes: I will plan, in English, different things that I could say for the picture for my French IGCSE oral. Also, this is a picture I will be using for my Spanish End of Years, so that is doubly helpful.

30 notes: I will do an Italian listening paper though I will listen to it at a faster speed than what is asked because otherwise I will literally get so bored and lose all will to live.

45 notes: I will finish researching Virgil and the historical context.

60 notes: I will practice Latin and Greek vocabulary on Quizlet every day after this week, for at least 10 minutes each day for each language.

75 notes: I really need to do this. I will make a poster with how to form different tenses in Italian.

100 notes: I will do an Italian Writing practice paper. This is going to cause me so much suffering. Help me.

120 notes: I will actually write down different expressions, including idomatic phrases, that I could use to describe the picture for my French IGCSE oral.

130 notes: I will make physics notes on energy.

140 notes: I will make notes on quantitative chemistry.

150 notes: I will make a poster with how to form different tenses in French.

155 notes: I will watch the AQA videos on the Cold War and make notes on them.

170 notes: I will do a practice Spanish listening paper.

200 notes: I will practice Latin and Greek vocabulary on Quizlet every day after this week, for at least 30 minutes each day for each language, including a written vocabulary test.

230 notes: I will do a practice Spanish reading and writing paper.

250 notes: I will do a practice Latin translation and ask my teacher if she happens to have a mark scheme.

270 notes: I will do a practice Greek translation and ask my teacher if she happens to have a mark scheme.

300 notes: I will finish my RSP notes on Crime and Punishment.

350 notes: I finish my Biology notes on reproduction.

380 notes: I will finish my RSP notes on Religion and Life.

430 notes: I will look through my history notes on Germany and finish them in accordance to the AQA book.

520 notes: I will do a practice Greek language paper.

530 notes: I will do a practice Latin language paper.

605 notes: I will actually write down different expressions, including idomatic phrases, that I could use to describe the picture for my Spanish End of Year oral.

720 notes: I will finish my RSP notes on Buddhism.

850 notes: I will make full notes on the Cold War.

Honestly, if you have even bothered to read through all of these, you have absolutely earned more respect that I thought I was capable of giving to a single human being. I technically have a lot more things I should do, including re-reading Things Fall Apart and actually making complete maths notes, as well as notes for the sciences, but I doubt I will never get this many tags anyway.

Edit: It has been five minutes and I already got 14 notes. I am actually terrified of this site. What in Tartarus? Y'all are crazy and I love you so much.

#Good luck #You guys are never going to manage this #I really need the motivation but there are some things that I really don't want to do #Studying is so hard #If you guys happen to have any tips #Do feel free to put them in the comments #Unfortunately #Those count as notes so you would actually be helping #Thank you in advance #I feel like this will never work #But we shall see #l'italiana parla #I'm scheduling this so that it sends after lunch #I need to go and eat now #I also have a couple of pieces of homework to quickly do #Oops

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