#I don’t think anyone should be ashamed of their art as long as they are doing something they enjoy and improving | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gintrinsic-writing · 4 months

Text

For You

@st-hedge always creates great art but this evening I saw this picture and had to write something for it. hopefully they don't mind i gave it an lu twist for angst (please dm me if that IS an issue)

“They call it the Downfall Timeline,” his husband murmured, features highlighted in resplendent bronze from the sunlight streaming across the balcony. “Those two exist only because of tragedy.”

Link threaded their fingers together. The backs of their hands shined with destiny’s humbling curse. “A tragedy not your doing.”

His husband sighed. Funny, that such a soft sound should come from such a fierce man. “Perhaps. Still, I cannot deny that my soul harbors—”

“We’ve been over this,” Link interrupted. He used his free hand to gently tilt his husband’s face toward him. “You are responsible only for yourself. You cannot control what happened in the past, or in other timelines; only what you choose to do with your life.”

“I want to believe you, I always do. But still, there are times…” His husband trailed off, ashamed to admit what they both already knew to be true.

“It’s alluring, isn’t it?” Link asked knowingly. “That kind of power, just waiting to be picked up? Hells, even darkness has a draw.”

His husband kissed him on the forehead, then the cheek. “Like you’d know.”

Link smiled, then flicked his husband over the heart. “I really do,” he said, waggling his eyebrows.

Finally, Link got what he wanted; his husband threw his head back and laughed. The world was richer for it. “That’s because you’re some wretched deviant,” his husband teased. “You’re not supposed to—”

“Wretched?” Link interrupted again with a huff, fakely affronted. “You think I’m wretched?”

“I notice you don’t deny your deviancy.”

“Well, nobody’s perfect.” Link poked at his husband’s upper lip, amused by the large canine tooth this revealed. “But I'd argue I have impeccable taste. I’m basically an artist.”

His husband snorted loudly. “If the world depended upon your ability to draw a recognizable stick figure, we’d all be doomed.”

“That’s the rudest thing anyone has ever said to me.”

“I seriously doubt that.”

Link didn’t bother hiding his grin, but his amusement faded altogether when his husband once again glanced at the street below. The Downfall Duo met up with a larger group; nine heroes in total, just like the rumors had warned. They didn’t look like much, but that meant nothing when the goddesses were involved.

“Practically children,” his husband murmured, “yet still they frighten me.”

“Forget them. They’re not here for us.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Gan,” Link said, taking his husband’s face in both hands. “There’s nothing to fear. We turned our backs on that cycle long ago.”

His husband shook his head. “I doubt they’d agree. They’ll sense me soon enough—sense us. The Triforce will see to it.”

Link shrugged. “So what? Let them come. They’ll see for themselves the life we’ve made, how wonderful it is.”

The sun dipped below the rooftops. His husband’s eyes emitted a faint glow when he tilted his head. “And if they decide I’m a threat anyway?”

Link pressed his lips together and hummed, tangling his fingers in his husband’s long red hair. “If it comes to that, I suppose I’ll have to kill them.”

His husband shook his head slowly. “You’d kill Farore’s blessed, your own spiritual kin?”

Link leaned in, his breath ghosting against his husband’s lips. “For you? I’d do terrible, terrible things.”

And Ganondorf could only chuckle as he swept Link up and slotted their mouths together. Everything fell into place as it always did when he had Link like this. “Pray it doesn’t come to that,” he murmured at last, fighting the chill that destiny held over their shoulders.

“They better,” Link told him.

#fanart fic #lu fic #in a very vague sort of way #loz #loz fic #gintrinsic writing #ganlink #ganondorf

113 notes · View notes

sarielsnowings · 6 months

Text

Awoooo ✨🌙

Spooky season is for SELF INDULGENT ART ONLY.

The paragraph that follows goes into my own body image issues around body hair and transitioning so if you don’t feel like reading some personal thoughts you can skip it! ^^ I just felt like sharing a bit of the thought process behind this piece.

I’ve been getting more hairy ever since starting testosterone (to be expected, of course) and I’ve had encountered feelings about it. On one hand it’s exciting to see the changes but on the other, having always been a fairly hairy person (and presenting feminine throughout my teens) I had a lot of self hate and insecurity around my body hair. It’s dark and strong and grows everywhere, but getting rid of it was an immense ordeal since I’d have to shave very often (and took forever to do so) and more long lasting methods like waxing or any other form of pulling hair out would usually just cause injuries. I felt ugly and unlovable because of something my body was just naturally programmed to do in order to keep me safe and protected. I’m glad I could change my mind, slowly dismantling all the fucked up expectations and beauty standards my surroundings (family, friends, society) had implemented so deep in my brain. For me, realising I was non binary was a huge help, as I didn’t feel like I had to conform to the idea of “womanhood” anymore, but most people don’t have the luxury of that first encouraging push! If you’re a woman, or if you’re anyone who’s ever felt pressured to have a particular relationship with your body hair (and your image in general), you should still be able to live your life as comfortably as possible within your body. You shouldn’t have to feel ashamed of the way you look. It should be YOUR decision whether you’d like to shave or not, for aesthetic reasons or comfort or health or otherwise! YOUR choice. Anyway… a few years have gone by, I’m glad I have a much healthier and kinder relationship with my body in that sense. Then I started testosterone treatment (which has made me incredibly happy so far) and I noticed more hair growing, and some of these thought came back to haunt me. The insecurity and fear… but I’m not 13 anymore. I’ve lived through the anxiety and the stress and the insecurity and now I can face this with new, slightly wiser eyes. And it’s alright. It’s ok! I look how I look, it’s cute! It’s affirming. I love seeing the changes, I love discovering the pattern in which my faint beard grows, just like a musketeer’s, I love my happy trail spiralling down into my bellybutton. And if I ever want to change things up, I can always shave, on occasion, but I’m glad I no longer feel like I HAVE TO. This new stage of hair growth made me think of werewolves and their transformation, and you know what? Maybe that’s it. Maybe I’m not a ghoul, a vampire or a skeleton this Halloween. Maybe I’m a fluffy wolf howling at the moon. A wild creature baring fangs, eyes shining in the underbrush. A soft, tail-wagging friend happy to receive head-pats... It’s all good. I’m alright.

#sarielsnowingsart #Halloween #personal thoughts #werewolf #body image #body hair #queer artist #trans artist #non binary #furry #self portrait

135 notes · View notes

heartless-aro · 8 months

Text

To HIV+ AlloAros:

A lot of alloaros on here have talked a lot about how they face a lot of stigma for wanting to be sexually active while lacking romantic feelings, and how people often stereotype them as uncaring, promiscuous, careless, or irresponsible. I was thinking about this, and it reminded me of some of the sentiments that I’ve heard directed towards people who are HIV+. As such, I would like to take a moment to acknowledge HIV+ alloaros.

To all those allosexual aromantics out there living with HIV, just wanted to say that you are wonderful. You don’t deserve to be stereotyped as reckless or careless or promiscuous or irresponsible, whether you contracted HIV from your first and only sexual partner, from your 30th sexual partner, from IV drug use, or by any other means. You are not wrong or bad or dirty if you have had and enjoyed sex outside of a romantic relationship, even if you are someone who contracted HIV through casual sex. You aren’t “perpetuating stereotypes” (either of alloaro people or HIV+ people) by existing as an HIV+ alloaro. Your sexual feelings are beautiful and natural, and you should never feel ashamed of yourself for having them. You add rich and meaningful perspectives and experiences to the LGBTQ+ community, and we are lucky to have you as part of this community.

I hope that ART works well for you and enables you to live a long, happy life, and enjoy a healthy and active sex life (should you so choose). If you choose to have a zucchini, foveo, FWB, spouse, romantic partner, soft romo partner, or any other sort of partner (or partners!) I hope that they are accepting of your HIV status and that they are able to take PrEP (if needed) with minimal side effects. If sexual intimacy is something that you want, I hope that you and your partner(s) have sex that makes you feel beautiful and sexy and desirable and happy.

I hope that you are able to have children if you so choose, and that your friends and family are accepting of your HIV status.

If you have any symptoms, I hope that they are manageable and that you’re able to continue enjoying the things that make you happy. If you’re struggling with medical trauma due to your HIV treatment experiences, I hope someday you’re able to feel safe seeking medical help again. If you struggle with addiction and contracted HIV due to drug use, then I hope addiction and/or mental health recovery go well for you, should you choose to seek it out.

I hope you’re having a wonderful day, and I hope you have a wonderful life.

(For anyone who has read this far, I’ve added a link below to a list of HIV/AIDS research and relief organizations. Consider donating to one of them if you can!)

#alloaro #aroallo #hiv #hiv/aids #aro #aromantic #sex positivity #addiction #cw drug mention #cw sex mention #serophobia #arophobia #alloarophobia #long post

130 notes · View notes

i-did-not-mean-to · 2 months

Text

YOTP - February

For V-day, I'll give you the YOTP fic for February.

A reluctant OTP, but an OTP nevertheless...Please, have some Merestor x Glorfindel (with art from @sauroff)

Lots and lots, heaps and heaps, of love for y'all!

Pairing: Glorfindel x Erestor

Prompt: Valentine's Day, Pollen/Fear Gas/Truth Serum, Established Relationship/Long Distance, different, mermaid, "If I kiss you, will you shut up?"

Words: 2 500

Warning: Sacrifice, implied monsterfucking, Merestor is a savage, nudity

(very sexy art and not very sexy fic under the cut!)

“We are sorry,” the councilman whispered as he stood, outlined by ominous darkness on Glorfindel’s threshold. “You have been chosen. We are hoping—”

“I understand,” Glorfindel replied before the old man could rattle off the perfidious reasons for their cruel decision to send one of their most valued warriors to his death. It made sense, he thought, the threat with which the town had been dealing for quite some time now was not one he or anyone else could fight with swords and arrows.

Thus, he had become superfluous—dead weight, really, and he recognised that much without fail.

“Today is a good day to die,” he added, deep sadness making his voice sound as hollow as if it was already coming from the grave. “I cannot bear the festivities anyway.”

“You must find it heartless—”

“Not at all,” Glorfindel interrupted again. “It’s strangely poetic, don’t you think? Give me an hour to put everything in order, tell the neighbours, and distribute what few riches are left to me, and then I shall be all yours.”

“Very well. I am sorry, please believe me,” the man who had known the condemned for many long years breathed softly.

“I know,” Glorfindel said soothingly. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I am not loath to die. Especially not today!”

As he went through his meagre possessions, the golden-haired hero of another time smiled wistfully to himself.

Outside, maidens and young men were giggling breathlessly as they sang songs of love and hope and waved their elaborate bouquets through the fragrant night air—this was their day, the day of lovers, and Glorfindel felt ashamed of his visceral, asphyxiating resentment of their happiness.

Once upon a time, he had been much like them. Returning from a faraway war covered in glory and illustrious distinctions, he had managed to capture the heart and hand of a beautiful, smart, enchanting young man.

For a few blessed years, he and Erestor—for that had been his beloved’s name—had lived in peace and plenty. Every year, they’d light candles on this hallowed night and sit on the porch of their little dwelling to watch the procession of giddy youths, dancing through the street with elation.

Then, one day, Erestor had disappeared. Glorfindel had waited, searched, and despaired, but no trace of his darling had been found.

Looking back now, he realised that the “deep”—an ominous threat that had transformed the previously merry village into a ghost town of whispered conversations and furtive steps—had first made itself known around the same time.

Nobody knew exactly what it was and what it wanted, but it was generally understood that Erestor—Glorfindel’s very own husband—had been its first victim.

From that fateful spring on, cattle, people, and treasures vanished from the riverbanks and the edges of the underground lake that had always been a highly favoured bathing spot for the villagers. Fear fell like a shadow over the hamlet, stifling all life and laughter.

Soon, people avoided all running water, coming up with complex rituals of superstition and idiocy, but Glorfindel was too heartbroken still to even fear for his life; he wanted to know what had happened to his sweetheart.

At first, the elders had refused that he or anyone else should leave the safety of the village to seek out the mysterious creature that had been glimpsed by a few but never fully seen, and Glorfindel had reluctantly bowed to the pressure of public outrage.

Then, the sacrifices had started. Miscreants and rebels, bound and gagged, were left in the cave to feed and soothe the “deep”—and, to everybody’s horror and delight—they were gone by the time the guards came back in to check on them. As the mouth of the cavern was under perpetual surveillance, it was undeniable that it had to be the sea monster that had taken them.

A part of Glorfindel had always known that, sooner or later, he would be picked to be delivered to the pernicious pestilence haunting their home. His adamant refusal to wear the protective amulets or steer clear of the river had branded him an insurgent and a sceptic, and a community ruled by fear could and would not abide such disruptive, potentially dangerous faithlessness.

Thus, on the night of lovers, he was called upon to do what was necessary to keep a society from which he had almost entirely withdrawn safe. This would be his last act of heroism.

Glorfindel felt relieved and almost happy as he walked, flanked by the mayor and the councilman, down to the cave. Maybe, he thought, he’d be able to find out something about his lost lover; either way, he’d be freed of the torturous half-life he had been leading.

As he entered the cave, he was surprised and more than just a little touched to find countless candles burning in every nook and cranny.

The villagers had carved well-wishes into the melting wax or written down their prayers on little scraps of paper that were now buried under the slow-moving tide of pristine white, dripping off every wall.

“We have to…” the mayor looked up at Glorfindel with undisguised misery as he lifted the length of rope he had been kneading in his sweaty hands. “You can keep the clothes to prevent chafing.”

Chuckling wryly, Glorfindel shook his head slowly. He had promised his last possessions—the garments on his back and the bells in his hair—to the two brave men who stood by him as he set out for his last expedition.

“I hope that you’ll at least get a tankard of ale each for these,” he said as he laid the adornments he had cherished through many a hard year into their unworthy palms. “Now tie me up and leave. For all I’ve done for this village and for you, I think that I deserve the dignity of meeting my fate without having to worry about an audience.”

They complied readily, desperate to get away from the dark water lapping rhythmically against the sloping ground of the cave.

In their furious haste, they were less gentle with this season’s sacrifice than he’d have deserved, but Glorfindel was unfazed by the nails scraping heedlessly across his bare skin and the sharp bite of the rope into his tense flesh.

“Where…”

The councilman pointed at a few worn, discoloured pillows at the far end of the cavern, just a stone’s throw away from the frightening, liquid threat of the purling underground lake.

“Tasteful,” Glorfindel commented as he was heaved, pushed, and dragged to the designated spot. In his mind, images of his first successful attempts at seduction danced as if to taunt him.

He was no stranger to promiscuous poses and elaborate bondage, and—on this lonely night of lost love—he could truly appreciate the irony.

“I am ready,” he declared. “Withdraw and save your lives. Think of me fondly, and don’t let this ruin your evening. Go light a candle in my honour. Maybe, look the other way if you come across a particularly adventurous couple, I don’t know…”

He huffed—it annoyed him that he was still the one trying to comfort and calm the men who had condemned him to an undoubtedly horrid demise, but he couldn’t bear their sad, mournful gazes.

“I am not dead yet,” Glorfindel grunted when nobody moved. “Remember me like this—beautiful, alluring, and very much alive!”

Tensing and squirming against the irregular, badly tied knots, he averted his face which finally convinced his two hangmen to scamper away like the vermin they were.

“Let’s hope this monstrosity makes haste at the very least,” Glorfindel mumbled and leaned back against the smelly cushions as much as he could without cutting off his circulation.

Thankfully for the integrity and safety of his limbs, Glorfindel did not have to wait long until minute ripples on the hitherto perfectly placid surface of the lake heralded the imminent arrival of whatever lethal foe was lurking in the murky depths.

“Ah, a new one,” a voice resounded. To the intended victim’s utter astonishment, it sounded tired and impatient rather than gleefully wicked. “Why do they keep pawning their unwanted villagers off on me?”

Spellbound, Glorfindel twisted as much as his bonds allowed to see a shimmering, mesmerising creature cleave through the water.

“Eh, same as ever,” the aquatic being muttered and launched itself out of its watery habitat, twirling like a falling star and filling the stale, damp air with a fine powder that tasted sweet and cloying on Glorfindel’s tongue as he drew a deep breath. “What is it that you truly desire? Do not even try to lie to me—the spores you’ve just inhaled force you to tell the truth.”

“I want to know what happened to my love,” Glorfindel replied immediately, not even trying to struggle against the sudden heaviness pervading his limbs and befuddling his racing mind. “All I want is to find out where Erestor went.”

With a muted splash, the creature fell back into the arms of the inky lake until only a pair of brightly flashing eyes—as eerily familiar and yet entirely foreign as the accents of that enchanting voice—were visible.

Taking the monster’s silence as an invitation and unable to stem the tide of words that had been unleashed by the potent dust he had ingested, Glorfindel kept babbling about the one he had loved and lost, detailing Erestor’s indescribable beauty and admirable wit and sighing longingly.

“I know that you’ve taken him, and I’d beg you to reunite us!” he finally pleaded.

“You think that I have killed your lover,” the creature mused, its words setting off a flurry of bubbles, dancing over the glassy surface of the water. “And you’d be willing to meet that same fate?”

“Yes. Life itself is worth nothing if it’s to be devoid of all joy and love!”

“You have ever been such a soppy fool! I should have known that my sacrifice would come to nought due to your reckless stubbornness!”

Heaving itself from its fluid realm once more, the creature drew inexorably closer.

“Who made those knots? What a mess! Just look at your beautiful skin!” Razor-sharp claws sliced through the rope without hesitation, and Glorfindel sat up, rubbing the sore spots his writhing had left behind.

“Erestor?” he cried as he now fully faced the well-known and desperately missed frame of the one he had sought for endless months.

There was no doubt about it, that visage—gleaming like mother of pearl and gold in the flickering light of the white candles—was the very one he saw in those terrible nightmares that haunted his every moment of respite.

“How? Why? What has happened? How have you come hither? Have you been enslaved against your will? What can I do? I have missed you so much, you can’t imagine! Oh Erestor, my love! Or…did you leave me of your own accord? Was I not a good husband to you? You should have told me that you were unhappy—I would have done anything to alleviate your dissatisfaction—”

“If I kiss you, will you shut up?” Erestor interrupted, and—not waiting for an answer—pressed his cool, wet lips against Glorfindel’s burning mouth in a gentle caress that grew frantic and heated almost instantly.

“Why?” Glorfindel whispered against the fragrant skin for which he had yearned with every fibre of his being.

“Old enemies came for you—you were out, at the market if I recall correctly—and they spoke terrible threats…” Erestor explained sheepishly. “You were always too rash to heed the warning signs of the deeper, darker secrets of the world.”

“But—”

“I’ve offered myself. What else could I do? The town needed you more than they did me!”

“I needed you! To hell with the accursed village—they’ve left me here, bound and naked, to be eaten by some fearsome monstrosity!” Glorfindel cried passionately.

“So they did,” Erestor agreed, anger and regret turning his eyes into splintered onyx. “It seems that I’ve been mistaken in my assessment, a rarity as you well know. I did not expect you to waste your time bemoaning my loss.”

“How dare you?” Glorfindel roared. Not minding the sharp protrusions on Erestor’s fingers or the dangerously pointy teeth flashing in the semi-darkness, he grabbed his lost husband by the shoulders and shook him vehemently. “I have never stopped looking and waiting for you—loving you—and if that ass of a mayor had not been so laughably terrified, I would have found out the truth much sooner!”

“Do they really think I’ve killed all these people?” Erestor inquired, leaning against the comforting, dry warmth of Glorfindel’s chest.

When the golden-haired sacrificial offering of beauty and valour nodded, he tossed back his head and laughed heartily.

“Believe you me, I did no such thing. It is in my power to grant one wish to those who seek me out in exchange for something they treasure—and what idiotic things they were—and so, I’ve helped every single person you’ve thrown down here escape the prison of paranoia and worry into which you’ve seemingly turned our once peaceful village.”

Glorfindel stared until his eyes overflowed with hot tears, leaving warm streaks of salt and salvation on his sculptural, freckled cheeks.

“I am so happy to see you—have you been well?” he asked breathlessly. “You should not have offered yourself that without consulting me! Of all the things to lose, I’d rather lose a limb than you!”

“I can see that now,” Erestor admitted. “I am sorry for doubting your love and your strength—they were very persuasive, and they tapped into my secret insecurity that someone like me—cerebral, somewhat scrawny, and undeniably mean—could never keep the love of one so glorious, handsome, and popular as you. It was all so new, and they made me believe that you’d soon grow tired of me anyway…This sacrifice was meant to be my parting gift.”

“And you dare call me a fool?” Glorfindel rasped as he bundled his merman husband—long, iridescent tail and webbed hands—onto his bare lap fitfully. As soon as that smooth, cool skin collided with his own heated flesh, he felt his body and all its dormant desires and impulses flare back to life.

“My love,” Erestor said warningly as he felt the testament of Glorfindel’s enduring, evidently unconditional ardour press against his scaly rear, “this is hardly the moment. I still have one wish to grant you—choose wisely!”

“Do you enjoy this life?” Glorfindel asked seriously, cupping Erestor’s soft cheek and searching his petulant gaze for any signs of dishonesty.

“Yes,” Erestor admitted after a moment’s reflexion. “It is strange, certainly, but I like it well! You’d…you couldn’t understand…”

“Then my wish is to join you!” Glorfindel exclaimed. “It is my turn to offer my life for your happiness. Make me what you are!”

So, that was my contribution to the YOTP for February!

I hope you've enjoyed this! Lots of love!

-> Masterlist

#og post #Fanfiction #writing #IDNMT writes #jrrt #Tolkien fanfiction #YOTP #yotp 2023 prompts #Glorestor #Glorfindel #Erestor #February #Truth Serum #Long Distance #Established Relationship #Different #Mermaid #Vday #If I kiss you...

29 notes · View notes

elliemarchetti · 12 days

Text

Tamlin Week Day 3

An excerpt from ACOTAR's chapter 19 in Tamlin's POV for @tamlinweek

Prompt: Mates

Words: 770

If they had suspected it during the day, at dinner it became perfectly clear that Feyre was in a bad mood. Both Tamlin and Lucien noticed as soon as she sank into her seat, and without needing further agreement, they decided to just chat with each other, sympathetic to what she might be feeling, far from home and seemingly destined never to see it, or her family, again. Of course, this didn’t stop the High Lord from following her into the rose garden at the end of the meal. Just to check on her, he told himself, and not because she was a sight to behold, with her hair of burnished gold kissed by the moonlight that stained the red petals a deep purple and casted a silvery sheen on the white blossoms. He hoped she found her surroundings inspiring, something worth of the art she so deeply loved.

“My father had this planted for my mother,” he said, still a few steps behind, sure he wouldn’t take the huntress by surprise. She didn’t bother to turn to acknowledge him, on the contrary, she dug her nails into her palms as he halted by her side.

“It was a mating present,” he went on, trying to distract her from the guilt she was undoubtedly feeling. Deep down, she probably knew she deserved better than what she had in the mortal lands, but she was unused to have the time and money needed to pursue her vocation, so he didn’t stop her when she stalked to the nearest bush and ripped off a rose, her fingers tearing on the thorns.

“I don’t know why I feel so tremendously ashamed of myself for leaving them. Why it feels so selfish and horrible to paint. I shouldn’t feel that way, should I? I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help it,” she finally rambled, words flowing out of her mouth like a swollen river. “All those years, what I did for them… And they didn’t even try to stop you from taking me.”

There it was, the giant pain that cracked her in two if she thought about it too long. Over time, Tamlin had discovered that everyone had one, no matter how old or young they were. And Feyre… she had grown up too fast not to have already stumbled upon it.

“I don’t know why I expected them to, why I believed that the puca’s illusion was real that night. I don’t know why I bother still thinking about it, or why I still care. Compared to you, to your borders and magic being weakened, I suppose my self-pity is absurd,” she added, so resignated of something so wrong.

“If it grieves you, then I don’t think it’s absurd at all,” he replied, and although he wasn’t as silver tongued as his best friend nor as well versed when emotions were concerned, he spoke with his heart, because she needed to have her feelings validated for once.

“Why?” she asked flatly, chucking the rose into the bushes.

Before the crimson droplets could stain her dress, Tamlin took her hands, his calloused fingers, strong and sturdy, as gentle as possible as he lifted her wound to his mouth and kissed her palm to heal it. She was so thin, so fragile… she shouldn’t waste the blood that flowed in her veins, not even a drop.

“Why do any of this?” she pushed, and he stepped closer, making her tip her head back to meet his eyes, exposing her long neck. He wanted to bite her, leave his mark where anyone could see it, make her his even if he had no right to call her that.

“Because your humanity fascinates me. The way you experience things, in your life span, so wildly and deeply and all at once, is entrancing. I’m drawn to it, even when I know I shouldn’t be, even when I try not to,” he lied, or maybe he just omitted the end of the sentence. He truly was enthralled, and he was probably starting to love her, but she was bound to grow old and die, a concept foreign to him; there was no way for their souls to be two halves of the same, and she couldn’t be the mate he so desperately wished for, the female who was able to understand his wants and desired without the need for an explanation.

“One day there will be answers for everything,” he concluded, anticipating her next question, before brushing his lips against her heartbreakingly warm and soft cheek. “But not until the time is right. Until it’s safe.”

#tamlinweek2024 #feylin #feyre archeron #acotar tamlin you'll forever be famous

13 notes · View notes

merakimagic · 1 year

Text

Ummm… if you have every wondered what it’s like to have ADHD, Autism (Lvl 1), Anxiety and Depression but also have an overwhelming sense that you need to be strong and perfect then here’s a message I just sent to my friend because I needed to let someone in and didn’t know who else to say it to.

It seems to give a pretty clear explanation in my view.

I don’t know why I feel so annoyed and frustrated with myself for saying I have ADHD and Autism. I have those things and I’m not ashamed of them but why do I always need to tell people… so they understand why I’m different. I mean everyone’s different and have different ways of doing things, it’s not like I’m special nor does anyone care. It’s not an excuse! I should be completely cable of keeping that part of myself in and not feeling like I have to tell people.

Does the way I explain it to people make it sound like I’m trying to get attention? Does saying that I’m proud of it and love how it makes me more curious about things and how it has made me good at art, music, languages, school, mythology, sports, pretty much a lot of things because I enjoy knowing them make it sound like I’m arrogant or trying to brag or just put a label on things.

I have anxiety, Autism level 1, ADHD, Depression, have experienced an eating disorder and still at times do, I’m a red head with blue eyes, I’m bi/pan, anemic, have asthma and ahhhhhh. Does all of this when I contribute to a conversation and say something about one of them just make people think that I have a need to be special?

Im sure I don’t feel that way. I think the only reason some of my reactions to things like how I may have a panic attack need stimming and stuff like that only happen know because I know there’s a reason for it but what if I’m just making a big deal out of nothing.

I really need to learn to shut up at times I think, I don’t think people really care about my long spills nor do they really want to know what’s going on with me. Why are relationships so fucking difficult?!

Why can’t I just understand them and the way they work? Can’t they just be simple? Why if your dating someone does there have to be this whole thing of you have to do this with them and you can’t do this with other people? Why do I need sounds to go away when I get overwhelmed, the worlds loud! It shouldn’t matter? Why do I feel like it’s okay to be flaws but I need to be flawless all at the same time? Why am I afraid of not being perfect? Why if I felt like I told my parents about this they would just get angry at me and tell me it’s all in my head? Why am I crying? These are thoughts are dealing with on a daily basis why are they bothering me now? Why can’t I just keep it to myself? I’ve been handling shit on my own my entire life it’s nothing new? Why do I know that tomorrow I’m gonna be fine and this is just a moment where my walls have fallen down?

Why am I so confident sometimes and then the rest I’m just completely fucked up? Why do I always need to restrain myself? Why can’t I just scream and then get back to it all? Why do I have to feel ashamed? Why should I have to feel like my mum doesn’t want to admit I have Autism?

Why do I care if I have Autism or ADHD so much? They have always been apart of me? It doesn’t mean anything? They’re just caused by a genetic mutation and makes you neurotypical why does it even matter? They’re just labels, who even gives a damn? You could have neither one and act the same way as me and people might just call you weird? Why do I care so much about this shit? No one else fucking does, maybe I should just shut up for a while. It’s clear that when I make a joke that it’s taken offensively, it’s clear that no one wants to hear about my problems, it’s clear that no one wants to here my rants, it’s clear that no one wants to here about my hobbies or opinions, it’s clear that I don’t get how to properly interact with others. Maybe I should just shut up, but if I did then my parents would just go on about how somethings wrong and get angry at me for not talking to them about it and we would just end up in a fight where they are telling me to just get over it and if I turn it back on them for how they have made me feel this way then they would just get even more angry and deny it.

Dad brought up a post that said about how a guys son used to sing and never stop talking and now they will be in the same room and his son will have his headphones on not say a word and that his son doesn’t know how much is dad misses him. And dad said that reminded him of me. Doesn’t he get that they’re part of the reason I don’t talk all the time. Because evertime I did I got told to calm down or my joke was offensive or that they don’t need the elephant. Don’t they get I like my phone because it has my hyperfixations and ever since I was little have loved cartoons and looking at fanart because they were what got me through the hard days at school and my parents fighting. Don’t they get I used them to cope because everything was solved in 22minutes and that’s the world I like to escape to when I day dream.

Why the fuck does all this even matter, why the fuck am I just being so overly emotional? Why can’t this just be all there is going through my brain right now?

Obviously there’s more.

There’s the voice telling me to just let myself cry and the voice telling me to suck it up and another one telling me to get ready for work and another one telling me to stop messaging and another one saying don’t put this on them and another one asking why I’m shaking and another if one saying I’ve done well to hold back the tears and another one saying I wonder when this message thing will cut me off and I’ll have to send two seperate messages? And another one asking is this just what my head is like? Is this what everyone’s head is like? Is this just because of my mental health shit? Am I just weak? Am I really this pathetic that I can’t pull myself together? I don’t want anyone to feel bad for me so why do I need to let anyone in? Why do I want to so badly to talk about this but also say nothing at all?

What the fuck is wrong with me, why can’t I just get the hell over it and move on, people deal with way worse stuff then this and here I am complaining because my low self esteem and hyper active over thinking head is just having a bad day and pulling me into it and won’t fucking leave me alone… what a pathetic excuse. You can’t use excuses in life. No one cares and no one has time for them, no one’s gonna help you so stop making excuses and just get on with it.

Put on your uniform, pack your bag and go to work and put on a happy cheerful face and just go take care of other people so that you don’t have to think about this. Just get on with it, there a bigger things then yourself and you just gotta get over what’s going on in your head

I’m Okay… I’m okay now.

If you’ve every felt this way, please let me know.

I don’t want to feel so alone anymore, nor do I want others to feel alone either.

I just felt these were necessary to make the whole thing a little less sad and full on serious and honestly feel like these characters would get it. Also this is not my art💫

86 notes · View notes

turtle-sister-april · 2 months

Text

Well I’ve finally binged all of the new avatar the last airbender live action Netflix show and I got to admit it was pretty good. Was it spectacular? No but it was better than that disgrace of a movie, but let’s be honest watching paint dry is better than watching that horrible movie. Below are my opinions on it and spoilers, so don’t click keep reading unless you have already seen it or you’re fine with being spoiled.

Now of course it had its good and its bad moments such as while it was rushed there was so much filler in the first book of the cartoon that it makes sense they would want to get rid of it. But how they decided to combine many of the stories so they could cut out the filler and keep the plot was a smart move in my opinion.

Of course that also came with it's draw backs such as they never explained the story of Katara's necklace and its significance. This took away from when June hunted them using the necklace to instead June hunted down Aang using Zuko's scent from the book Aang took from him. It also took away from when Katara fought master Pakku. Originally Katara fought him because she was not going to apologize for disrespecting him all because of a sexist rule in the northern water tribe. Pakku stopped the fight because he didn't think her worthy of his time but when he saw the necklace that he originally carved for gran gran he then agreed to train her and they changed that dumb rule. In this new one she just fought him so he could see how skilled she was and the rule would be changed so she could be trained.

There were many other story lines that were changed obviously but I'm not going to go too in detail there otherwise this would become too long. But the other main thing I think that they should have learned from the original show was the important rule of show don't tell. A great deal of the live action remake spent time talking about stuff such as why Aang didn't want to be the avatar, when originally Aang's struggles were summed up so nicely in one solemn look and 2 lines.

As for how they did with the characters, for the most part if the character didn't look the part they at least acted the part fairly well. Uncle Iroh was done beautifully. Everything about him was chosen so perfectly that it was practically its own work of art, but on the opposite end the writers did a horrible injustice to King Bumi. His character was supposed to be that piece of Aang's past that never changed, only got wiser as he got older. But in the live action they tried to give some logic to him by saying he blamed Aang for the state of the world and for just up and disappearing like he did, when King Bumi's logic is supposed to make as much sense as the mad genius himself. And I don't care how rude this sounds to the writers but they should be ashamed of what they did to King Bumi.

But aside from what they did to King Bumi and a few other small annoyances I personally have, over all for how they did the show I believe they did a fairly decent job story wise and with the digital effects they did stunning work which I must absolutely applaud them for.

Thank you to anyone who read this whole thing and for doing so here is a link to an adorable picture I found of Raph and Mayhem.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go practice using my ninpo/mystic powers. I want to go see if I can figure out how to use it like fire bending.

#turtle net #raph a roni blog #april chat #rottmnt #rottmnt mayhem #avatar the last airbender #avatar netflix

5 notes · View notes

jess-moloney · 3 months

Note

It’s been so disappointing watching his online presence go from selfies, funny videos, days at the beach, art he’s into, loving his truck, surfing, sharing music he’s into, quotes he loves…so much. To see all that turn into business profiles for all intents and purposes to promote his music or acting is what I think’s sad. He should always promote his stuff and be proud of himself. But, he stopped being Jamie, the person and turned into Jamie, the business online.

I think the steady decline in that straight up ended around Heaven In Your Eyes. The video, the merch. So weird. The song itself strays the most from where his solo stuff began, but it’s still a good song. A song you can tell he loves. I think the promotion got seriously screwed up when he broke his bones. That seemed to sidetrack the rollout of the song and video.

The broken bones are a whole other thing. Those stories never added up. On August 23rd he said “last Friday” meaning the 15th was his fall on “tarmac”. His X-ray said the 23rd. He later said he broke other bones, he said he didn’t immediately feel what would hurt the most or get it checked out until days later. All super weird. Last we saw was Jess post a story on the sidewalk of New Orleans the 13th. His last story there was the 11th. Could falling off steps coming off a plane happen? Yeah. If it was that kind of pavement, why not specify? Why change the story? Why add details? Never made sense to me. Could’ve been that simple, could’ve been his motorcycle. Anything. At this point, unless someone asks him at a convention straight up how exactly he did it, I doubt we’re gonna get an answer. Which we don’t need, but some of us are genuinely concerned as to how that happened. I know you are too.

Sorry, this wasn’t about the fall. I just think it coincides with Heaven In Your Eyes.

As far as the pregnancy thing- unfortunately having a child isn’t the same as wanting it. I was a case of having a child to give a sibling to the accident child, so yeah. For anyone reading this- do not do that. Don’t have any kids you don’t want. Please. All Jess would have to do was get through pregnancy and not even have to do anything more than keep the child alive or immediately pawn it off on help. If she gets that desperate, I wouldn’t put anything past her.

I'm still concerned about the injuries as well. I don't like to think about it because it makes no sense. The way the story changed. The fact that Jess was at the very least "around" isn't helping. His phrasing on the post about how he "felt compelled" to share it but then not explain how it happened? If it was a simple accident like a trip and fall or he got in a minor bike accident or something of that nature then why not just say that? Why leave a bunch of speculation around for people to question what happened and why it happened. I have broken ribs before and I'm not even ashamed to say why (I fell off a horse). It's not a nefarious reason it was an accident. I understand that Jamie wants to keep some level of privacy but sharing medical images from a medical document negates what level of privacy he wants to keep, so showing those X-rays whilst also not wanting to explain how he was injured is weird if it was just an accident.

Of course, this was followed a few months later with that promotional video for Comic Con which was heavily filtered and appeared to show bruising under his eyes. Amidst all of this, Jess gets some kind of "certification" to be a domestic violence prevention specialist as if it's some kind of alibi to cover her ass because we know she's doing fuck all with it. Everything about what's going on between Jamie and Jess seems like it's a high level of abuse and I'd say it's coming from her end since she's the one who has a long history of being a horrible manipulative snake in the grass.

If she were to get pregnant (and I don't put it past her, regardless of what she claims about not wanting kids) you are right, all she'd have to do is have the kid. She'd pawn it off on a nanny or something after, or she'd be a horrible stage mom and push the kid into modeling/acting and try to live vicariously through it. Especially if it ended up actually being Jamie's kid or she could claim that enough to get people to believe her. This woman has to know she's on her way out and how bad she looks and I would never put it past her to do something extreme to keep the only "fame" she's probably ever going to get.

#jess moloney #jamie campbell bower #jamie bower #mail

5 notes · View notes

larryyouknow · 1 year

Text

Snippet

I was tagged by @greenblueish who are working on their abo and decided to share a snippet from my wip too.

I haven’t been excited for a story in a long time. But I’m all worked up about this one I’m writing for @1dhistoricalficfest. I might change it because you know… reasons. So why not to share. (It’s unedited so excuse mistakes).

Louis gave him a mischievous look, “So, you still want to paint me?”

Louis' directness caught him off guard. He was a renowned painter, a respected man, rarely being asked anything with such boldness. But in the presence of this young man he was losing his ground and his confidence, as if he was ashamed or worried of being exposed as an imposter. “I want to paint Saint Sebastian.”

“Do you think I’m him?” Louis glared back at him, having his suspicions.

Harry scoffed, amused at the nonsensical claim. “I don’t believe in reincarnation.”

An adorable giggle slipped from Louis’ lips as he adjusted himself on the stool in the middle of the room.

Harry wondered aloud, “Are you always so difficult?”

Louis didn’t reply, instead he posed.

“You’ve never posed as a model, have you?”

“What gave me away?”

“Your pose,” Harry said truthfully. “And when I think about it now, you left when you saw my studio full of my pupils and servants… that should be a hint for me as well.”

“You asked me to strip like you were asking for another cup of wine.” Louis reproached him.

“That’s how it works.” Harry defended himself. “And I don’t drink. I spent hours drawing from live models. That’s my process of creation, soaking in the shapes, composition, light… perspective. When observing women who serve me as models,” his speech stuttered, “I never want to be alone, or hidden. I have no interest in scandals, but in art. There are hundreds of curious eyes watching my comings and goings. They would love to witness me stumble. But there is some dignity attached to my profession and I'm not going up in flames for some licentious woman who wants to be wedded to the first man with doubloons in the pocket. I'm not interested in that.”

“Do you observe men too?” Louis asked timidly.

“Sometimes,” Harry admitted.

“I prefer this place to your studio. I don’t want to be on display for others but you.” Louis changed the topic.

“But you’re my subject.” Harry tried to make it clear. “When I paint you, everyone will see.”

“I thought you were painting Sebastian, not me.”

My dear writers, do you wanna post your snippet? @boosbabycakes28 @jacaranda-bloom @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed @zanniscaramouche @alwaysxlarrie @lululawrence @allwaswell16 @faithinwalls369 or anyone who’s writing and want to share.

#snippet anyday #because I might change my mind till Sunday #tag games #my wip

16 notes · View notes

facade · 5 months

Text

vent long personal heavy ok

it’s really helpless and crushing how im always cornered back to the same sad answer of how i should have considered the future earlier. my legs are in so much pain, im crying from how much my body aches and im simply told, you shouldn’t have been in your room all day — despite the fact i wasn’t allowed to go outside, and there was seldom walking space in our awful house. i was always sick, and always dizzy. it is crazy how dangerous black mold can be and yet we had a complete infestation of that and more. i want to consider pursuing a career ive had since i was a child though, im so passionate about art and i still am which might be a blessing considering how much commissions are hurting me mentally and perhaps physically .. opening several, several batches a year, constantly cramming them.. i think i want to do college. but i didn’t take on the scholarship i had when i graduated! i didn’t take the aid that covered my first year.. truthfully i didn’t think id make it so far. im insecure, im suicidal, im fragile. the past decade, i could barely get through anything without crying. it was humiliating to exist as i was in middle and highschool due to the living situation i was in, with no money and feeling i had no true support or even solidarity with my own mother, who must have been under much more stress than i was, trying to provide for her child. but still didn’t sympathize with me at all. the situation was hard, but i should have worked harder .. honestly, i do feel selfish for not having taken advantage of my moms effort to keep me in school, but ahhhhhh, i think it was just too much. i didn’t want to live like this. i was ashamed and disgusted, i still feel discomfort associating myself with that life. i cling to childhood and youth and traditions i missed out on because i lacked so much of that routine as a kid. is it so wrong to cry and want to die that you never got to experience a proper, loving christmas like everyone in your schools did ? no toys, no cable, only a tiiiny tiny laptop (like a 2008 chromebook-like thing) to keep me busy.. i wasn’t allowed to go outside of my own house to play with the dog, nor was I allowed to have anyone come over. wasn’t allowed to visit other people’s houses… not like i remember of that much anyways, as i barely remember anything from childhood except mortifying things.. i recently saw a way to connect to my mother by opening up. i confessed to her a lot of things as i was a mute child and never shared anything, never felt comfortable to — about how it affected me, about how i feel like im in stasis. i told her about what happened between me and my father, what happened between me and my brother, and i felt empty when she looked away from me and didn’t answer. No closure or comfort, and simply said that i should have taken advantage of my opportunities when I had them. And i have sabotaged myself. nothing else can explain for my disability, my mental health, and my plummeting education.

It took me 6 years to get an ID. 5 years to get a bank account. I don’t know how to learn how to drive and I am scared but I have to. i cannot go anywhere without someone’s help, primarily hers.

it feels too unfair, and i am still grieving for every year that passes by, even the previous year, that i am still locked in a house. i have never experienced much that i can call positive memories until i went to be with my best friend and my boyfriend. but that just made the memories painful too; when I think about how I have to end the trip. Board the plane or get in the car, and cry about how I have to go back home and be with my mother. it is not normal, to dread going back there so intensely. i wish i had a different life very badly, honestly, but a comfort i have now is that i think i am now strong emotionally and legally that i can make my own plans, manage my own bank, decide who i can visit without the permission of my mother. but. that is not because of my strength, and it is actually because she is sick. and she now has cancer as of september. I feel like i have been held in my mothers arms forced still for an entire two decades and the only reason she’s let go is because she is, her health is not well. And she has prepared me this week, a conversation of where to find her records, her files, her will, her passwords. Everything, if she passes away soon. i want to sleep forever, because i don’t want to wake up to a day wondering if it will happen soon. I don’t want to be in this position. I am scared. I wish I was with people I loved who loved me. i am shaking and sad. I wish I was too drained to cry anymore because I do it too much, for years. I wish I wasn’t such a sad person. I wish I wasn’t so miserable, I wish I had more happier things to think about when people ask me how I am. I feel miserably

I was gifted breath of the wild a couple years ago, now i am finally playing it. it helps i think. i really enjoy it most for the animal interaction and cooking and exploration.

2 notes · View notes

leatherbookmark · 1 year

Text

picked up my b&w photos, and

gggg i wish i was a Cool and Confident person but instead my mental strength is at the level of one soggy thin wafer which is not good.

like! if i was Cool and Confident person i would’ve gone ‘yeah that’s cool that you think film is obsolete, that you can do much better with digital cameras and that people who think analog photos have ~soul~ are kinda weird BUT I DO NOT AGREE OR CARE’ unfortunately i am not C&C, so i just kept on laughing and nodding along :/ and now i am KINDA SAD and KINDA ASHAMED just like back when i was buying chips & soda for xth day in row and the cashier was like “but you know this isn’t healthy right?”. like any sane person would’ve gone bro that’s none of your fucking business?? alas i am forever mentally and emotionally and socially a shy 14yo

and i paid only a little less than twice as much as i’d pay for color pics. for b&w pics. and they’re not even works of art because this is just a point&click camera! like. i know i’m being stupid and wasting money on bullshit, just like. a physical equivalent of whaling in mobile games, and that everyone can see i’m basically a child getting excited over a toy that doesn’t do much i know all that!! i know it’s pathetic!! and i should own it or something since this is apparently in mental health fashion now! but like. man. i feel sad and ashamed and i’m wondering if i should just quit but at the same time i don’t want to? but like. anyone can see etc.

like the THING is, yeah i can take much sharper and more detailed photos with my gotdamn. phone camera! yes! but i do like the look of film photos, and applying filters is, sorry, lhk, Cheating and Cheap. i want ORGANIC BIO GRAIN. that’s one. two, phone photos -- especially when you have a phone as long as mine -- are a different animal than analog camera photos. just consider the dimensions! i don’t want to set my dimensions to 3:4, but also i don’t want to take photos that i’m going to have cut for printing later. finally, yeah, i Am tempted by the recommended digital cameras with nicely bezoomed lenses! they would be great for bird photography! the photo shop dude showed me his snaps of blue tits and an adult crow feeding a kid crow and i was (embarrassingly) enamoured. but i don’t exactly have digital camera money right now so i just want to experiment and focus on what i Do have right now.

tl;dr i hate the thought of being considered cringe and stupid. unfortunately, i am extremely cringe and stupid :(

#shrimp thoughts

9 notes · View notes

a-student-out-of-time · 1 year

Text

I can’t believe they’d waste my time like that...awful, ridiculous...

I should’ve booted them all out when I had a chance...

???: But you didn’t.

Again!? Who else is-!

Evening, Emina-chan~!

And what do you want?

Well that’s not a very nice way to greet people.

And what reason do I have to be nice to you?

Finally being honest with me, huh? Seems your true personality comes out when there aren’t any journalists around.

If this is part of some bid to get me to confess to something that happened 30 years ago, it’s meaningless.

And what would you know about honesty or personality anyway, Ouma-san? You’re just an ex-model.

Ouma-sensei.

What?

You might look down on me for how I treated you and the others in our class, and that much is fair. But while you were scamming people with counterfeit art, I went to university.

Did I tell you I have two Master’s Degrees? I’m Ouma Kasumi, PhD, LPC, and that officially makes me Ouma-Sensei, thank you very much.

As if a few pieces of paper are going to make you anything more than what you are.

Like the one you have from the Steering Committee?

...

Let’s think about this, shall we?

You strike me as an overachiever, someone who was pressured to succeed in life above all else. You came from an average background, and you seem ashamed of that.

Do you even still talk to your parents?

That’s none of your business. Why are you even here?

People know your crimes, and some of us are willing to give you an easier out. But you keep going. You really think nothing can touch you, don’t you?

I think you all need better hobbies than harassing successful artists out of jealousy.

Jealousy? You think that’s what this is all about? Most of the people here are doing just fine on their own. More than that, they’re successful!

Yes, but I’m different. I wasn’t from a privileged background.

Why is it that none of you will acknowledge that fact? I rose from nothing, I clawed my way to the top, I made sacrifices, and my work gathers full crowds whenever there’s an exhibit. Who cares if I broke a few lousy rules to do it?! If I didn’t, someone else would’ve!

...You really believe that, don’t you?

I’m a winner, Ouma-san. It comes with the territory. You think I liked being in this position? Of course not. But it’s what was demanded of me, and so I accepted it and proved myself.

Now, I am a Nijiue. I’m one of the best artists of all time, and the mother of three of the greatest artists in all of Japan.

Could you or anyone else have done it and made it this far? Would you have kept going? Success is their metric, and victory is all they care about.

None of you would understand how much I’ve had to sacrifice to be where I am. None of you care to understand.

Wow...that’s rough, buddy.

Sounds like you’ve really put a lot of work into making it all the way to the top, huh?

More than anyone else in that god-forsaken class.

You plan on staying up there for a while?

As long as I possibly can, no matter what it takes.

Well, if that’s how you feel, I guess I can’t talk you out of it.

Just one piece of advice, Emina-san: you should be careful when you’re standing at the top. After all, if something knocks you off, remember...

It’s a long way down.

!!!

*Emina runs into her room and slams the door shut*

Nishishishi...

*Kasumi heads off, laughing*

#danganronpa #nwpm #neo world program monitor #emina nijiue #kasumi ouma #a student out of time #DR #All Eyes On Me arc

16 notes · View notes

feralmorty · 1 year

Note

I JUST started hyperfixating on RnM a week ago and it always lasts a really long time and gets incredibly unbearable for me when I can't engage in my fixation so after hearing this news with Justin Roiland I've never wished that I had the ability to just change what I'm fixated on more than I do right now

Sorry if this is super long but I definitely understand you as I’m in the same boat. I recently got back into R&M so this news definitely sucks especially because my maladaptive daydream is all about my R&M ocs rn. Tbh tho I don’t think you or anyone needs to be ashamed of liking the content when you’re hyperfixated. You can watch it and engage in fandom as many talented non-creeps also worked hard on the show. I don’t think their work should be brushed aside just because one guy fuckin sucks. I just would recommend not spending cash on legal merchandise or streaming it legally. If you’re not contributing financially then you’re not allowing the creator to benefit. The situation sucks and I definitely want justice for the victims but at least for me, I’m gonna keep up with my ocs and watch the show still.

Also this reminds me of when I got hyperfixated on helluva boss. There’s a lot of controversy around viv from way in the past as well as recent allegations. I chose not to engage in purchasing things but I still drew art and watched it on youtube with ad block. I know tons of other animators helped with the show and I feel sad that their work gets shat on just because the creator sucks. I had to prepare myself because I knew so many people hated viv and her works so I just…. Tried my best to enjoy myself while remembering that viv does not benefit from my viewership.

#rick and morty #hyperfixation #yeah idk if this is considered a correct take but im just a human whose trying his best to navigate the world of content

8 notes · View notes

sourtomatola · 1 year

Text

Doctor’s orders

(Vent art story with sun as the comfort boy)

You looked in the mirror and sighed at the sight. The dark blue and red bruise forming under your eye was not a pretty sight. Even though it wasn’t your fault, or anyone’s really. Just a dog owner playing with their pet, and you just so happen to walk into the line of their baseball flying through the air. Total accident.

The doctor said you eye was okay, that it just hit the socket, but the swelling and bruise made it hard to see a little. You sighed and put the ice pack back on it, hoping it would help enough that your eye wouldn’t be so noticeable tomorrow or work. You knew your dear co-worker in the daycare would worry too much.

You kept telling yourself it would be fine over and over again, that it would look and feel better in the morning.

But oh, that’s not how black eyes work. Yeah the swelling and weird lump went down just a little, but the bruise looked SO much worst. Your groaned at the sight, feeling the shame of someone seeing it and having to explain it away. Tremendous Shame hit you hard, despite you not having anything to be ashamed of. Everyone gets hurt in trivial ways, you’re just so happen to be out in the open.

It was too late to call in sick, and wouldn’t do you any good since this might take a week or two to heal, so you may as well face the music now. So you just grabbed a pair of sunglasses and headed out. Boy that was conspicuous in the dark neon lit pizzaplex though, wow. You got looks for it, but was easily brushed off. You only hoped Sunny would do the same.

You walked into the daycare and tried not to be noticed, at least right away.

You knew that was a bust the minute you heard Sunny’s cheerful greeting.

“There you are Sunshine!” He yelled across the room and started skipping to you only to stop, freezing in place.

Oh boy, here it comes.

He then hunched slightly and shuffled closer to you, seeming to try to see past the sunglasses. “Sunshine…Why are you wearing Sunglasses inside?” He asked in an unnervingly calm voice.

You tried to play it off. “It’s cause of your bright friendly personality. I can’t look directly at the sun after all, doctor’s orders.” You said and did finger guns at him.

He stared a minute before expertly removing your sunglasses before you could blink. He stared at you for way too long to be comfortable.

“I-I’m okay, its was just-“ You started but his hands came up and sandwiched your head between his hands. You felt his fingers twitch slightly against your skin, making you a little nervous.

“Sunshine…who did this to you.” He said in a tone that sounded similar to Moon’s. You shivered slightly.

“It was an accident! I walked into the line of a baseball being thrown, no big deal.” You told him, but you could feel tears prick your eyes.

Sun ridged form suddenly softened and he pulled you into a gentle hug, letting you cry privately while the kids played, not minding the two of you. It felt good to cry about it despite feeling foolish. After a minute you wiped away the tears and took a deep breath. “I think I’m okay now…”

“Not without a band-aid.” Sunny said and held up a band-aid with his and Moon’s faces on them.

“I don’t really need-“

“Yes you do.” He said gently and placed it on your cheek, just under the bruise. It did make you feel a bit better. There’s just something about a band-aid. And the one applying it.

“Thank you sun.” You smiled with a small sniffle. “We should probably get back to work.”

“Hold on.” He said and put your sunglasses back on your face, making you feel less self-conscious about it. “Doctors orders~” He said teasingly.

#I have a black eye XD #So yeah #I'm bad at angst #Angst #just venting a bit #fnaf sun #one shot #short fic #my fic

9 notes · View notes