Tumgik
#Pick Up Lines 2020
evilhorse · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
That’s one of the ones that didn’t stick.
56 notes · View notes
riverdalenerdlol · 7 months
Text
Adult coloring books like to say they’re good for relaxation and stuff but how am I supposed to RELAX when I can’t decide on the COLOR SCHEME for this fucking PEACOCK and it has shapes so small that I’ll color OUTSIDE THE LINES if I BLINK TOO HARD
2 notes · View notes
lizardmonet · 5 months
Text
i can’t wait to make more money cause i have a desperate need for more tattoos. this has been the first year since i started getting tattoos that i haven’t gotten one
0 notes
renthony · 9 days
Text
In Defense of Shitty Queer Art
Queer art has a long history of being censored and sidelined. In 1895, Oscar Wilde’s novel The Picture of Dorian Gray was used as evidence in the author’s sodomy trials. From the 1930s to the 1960s, the American Hays Code prohibited depictions of queerness in film, defining it as “sex perversion.” In 2020, the book Steven Universe: End of an Era by Chris McDonnell confirmed that Rebecca Sugar’s insistence on including a sapphic wedding in the show is what triggered its cancellation by Cartoon Network. According to the American Library Association, of the top ten most challenged books in 2023, seven were targeted for their queer content. Across time, place, and medium, queer art has been ruthlessly targeted by censors and protesters, and at times it seems there might be no end in sight.
So why, then, are queer spaces so viciously critical of queer art?
Name any piece of moderately-well-known queer media, and you can find immense, vitriolic discourse surrounding it. Audiences debate whether queer media is good representation, bad representation, or whether it’s otherwise too problematic to engage with. Artists are picked apart under a microscope to make sure their morals are pure enough and their identities queer enough. Every minor fault—real or perceived—is compiled in discourse dossiers and spread around online. Lines are drawn, and callout posts are made against those who get too close to “problematic art.”
Modern examples abound, such as the TV show Steven Universe, the video game Dream Daddy, or the webcomic Boyfriends, but it’s far from a new phenomenon. In his book Hi Honey, I’m Homo!, queer pop culture analyst Matt Baume writes about an example from the 1970s, where the ABC sitcom titled Soap was protested by homophobes and queer audiences alike—before a single episode of the show ever aired. Audiences didn’t wait to actually watch the show before passing judgment and writing protest letters.
After so many years starved for positive representation, it’s understandable for queer audiences to crave depictions where we’re treated well. It’s exhausting to only ever see the same tired gay tropes and subtext, and queer audiences deserve more. Yet the way to more, better, varied representation is not to insist on perfection. The pursuit of perfection is poison in art, and it’s no different when that art happens to be queer.
When the pool of queer art is so limited, it feels horrible when a piece of queer art doesn’t live up to expectations. Even if the representation is technically good, it’s disappointing to get excited for a queer story only for that story to underwhelm and frustrate you.
But the world needs that disappointing art. It needs mediocre art. It even needs the bad art. The world needs to reach a point where queer artists can fearlessly make a mess, because if queer artists can only strive for perfection, the less art they can make. They may eventually produce a masterpiece, but a single masterpiece is still a drop in the bucket compared to the oceans of censorship. The only way to drown out bigotry and offensive stereotypes created by bigots is to allow queer artists the ability to experiment, learn through making mistakes, and represent their queer truth even if it clashes with someone else’s.
If queer artists aren’t allowed to make garbage, we can never make those masterpieces everyone craves. If queer artists are terrified at all times that their art will be targeted both by bigots and their own queer communities, queer art cannot thrive.
Let queer artists make shitty art. Let allies to queer people try their hand at representation, even if they miss the mark. Let queer art be messy, and let the artists screw up without fear of overblown retribution.
It’s the only way we’ll ever get more queer art.
_
Like this essay? Tip me on Ko-Fi, pledge to my Patreon, or commission an essay on the topic of your choice!
2K notes · View notes
Text
Autoenshittification
Tumblr media
Forget F1: the only car race that matters now is the race to turn your car into a digital extraction machine, a high-speed inkjet printer on wheels, stealing your private data as it picks your pocket. Your car’s digital infrastructure is a costly, dangerous nightmare — but for automakers in pursuit of postcapitalist utopia, it’s a dream they can’t give up on.
Your car is stuffed full of microchips, a fact the world came to appreciate after the pandemic struck and auto production ground to a halt due to chip shortages. Of course, that wasn’t the whole story: when the pandemic started, the automakers panicked and canceled their chip orders, only to immediately regret that decision and place new orders.
But it was too late: semiconductor production had taken a serious body-blow, and when Big Car placed its new chip orders, it went to the back of a long, slow-moving line. It was a catastrophic bungle: microchips are so integral to car production that a car is basically a computer network on wheels that you stick your fragile human body into and pray.
The car manufacturers got so desperate for chips that they started buying up washing machines for the microchips in them, extracting the chips and discarding the washing machines like some absurdo-dystopian cyberpunk walnut-shelling machine:
https://www.autoevolution.com/news/desperate-times-companies-buy-washing-machines-just-to-rip-out-the-chips-187033.html
These digital systems are a huge problem for the car companies. They are the underlying cause of a precipitous decline in car quality. From touch-based digital door-locks to networked sensors and cameras, every digital system in your car is a source of endless repair nightmares, costly recalls and cybersecurity vulnerabilities:
https://www.reuters.com/business/autos-transportation/quality-new-vehicles-us-declining-more-tech-use-study-shows-2023-06-22/
What’s more, drivers hate all the digital bullshit, from the janky touchscreens to the shitty, wildly insecure apps. Digital systems are drivers’ most significant point of dissatisfaction with the automakers’ products:
https://www.theverge.com/23801545/car-infotainment-customer-satisifaction-survey-jd-power
Even the automakers sorta-kinda admit that this is a problem. Back in 2020 when Massachusetts was having a Right-to-Repair ballot initiative, Big Car ran these unfuckingbelievable scare ads that basically said, “Your car spies on you so comprehensively that giving anyone else access to its systems will let murderers stalk you to your home and kill you:
https://pluralistic.net/2020/09/03/rip-david-graeber/#rolling-surveillance-platforms
But even amid all the complaining about cars getting stuck in the Internet of Shit, there’s still not much discussion of why the car-makers are making their products less attractive, less reliable, less safe, and less resilient by stuffing them full of microchips. Are car execs just the latest generation of rubes who’ve been suckered by Silicon Valley bullshit and convinced that apps are a magic path to profitability?
Nope. Car execs are sophisticated businesspeople, and they’re surfing capitalism’s latest — and last — hot trend: dismantling capitalism itself.
Now, leftists have been predicting the death of capitalism since The Communist Manifesto, but even Marx and Engels warned us not to get too frisky: capitalism, they wrote, is endlessly creative, constantly reinventing itself, re-emerging from each crisis in a new form that is perfectly adapted to the post-crisis reality:
https://www.nytimes.com/2022/10/31/books/review/a-spectre-haunting-china-mieville.html
But capitalism has finally run out of gas. In his forthcoming book, Techno Feudalism: What Killed Capitalism, Yanis Varoufakis proposes that capitalism has died — but it wasn’t replaced by socialism. Rather, capitalism has given way to feudalism:
https://www.penguin.co.uk/books/451795/technofeudalism-by-varoufakis-yanis/9781847927279
Under capitalism, capital is the prime mover. The people who own and mobilize capital — the capitalists — organize the economy and take the lion’s share of its returns. But it wasn’t always this way: for hundreds of years, European civilization was dominated by rents, not markets.
A “rent” is income that you get from owning something that other people need to produce value. Think of renting out a house you own: not only do you get paid when someone pays you to live there, you also get the benefit of rising property values, which are the result of the work that all the other homeowners, business owners, and residents do to make the neighborhood more valuable.
The first capitalists hated rent. They wanted to replace the “passive income” that landowners got from taxing their serfs’ harvest with active income from enclosing those lands and grazing sheep in order to get wool to feed to the new textile mills. They wanted active income — and lots of it.
Capitalist philosophers railed against rent. The “free market” of Adam Smith wasn’t a market that was free from regulation — it was a market free from rents. The reason Smith railed against monopolists is because he (correctly) understood that once a monopoly emerged, it would become a chokepoint through which a rentier could cream off the profits he considered the capitalist’s due:
https://locusmag.com/2021/03/cory-doctorow-free-markets/
Today, we live in a rentier’s paradise. People don’t aspire to create value — they aspire to capture it. In Survival of the Richest, Doug Rushkoff calls this “going meta”: don’t provide a service, just figure out a way to interpose yourself between the provider and the customer:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/09/13/collapse-porn/#collapse-porn
Don’t drive a cab, create Uber and extract value from every driver and rider. Better still: don’t found Uber, invest in Uber options and extract value from the people who invest in Uber. Even better, invest in derivatives of Uber options and extract value from people extracting value from people investing in Uber, who extract value from drivers and riders. Go meta.
This is your brain on the four-hour-work-week, passive income mind-virus. In Techno Feudalism, Varoufakis deftly describes how the new “Cloud Capital” has created a new generation of rentiers, and how they have become the richest, most powerful people in human history.
Shopping at Amazon is like visiting a bustling city center full of stores — but each of those stores’ owners has to pay the majority of every sale to a feudal landlord, Emperor Jeff Bezos, who also decides which goods they can sell and where they must appear on the shelves. Amazon is full of capitalists, but it is not a capitalist enterprise. It’s a feudal one:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/11/28/enshittification/#relentless-payola
This is the reason that automakers are willing to enshittify their products so comprehensively: they were one of the first industries to decouple rents from profits. Recall that the reason that Big Car needed billions in bailouts in 2008 is that they’d reinvented themselves as loan-sharks who incidentally made cars, lending money to car-buyers and then “securitizing” the loans so they could be traded in the capital markets.
Even though this strategy brought the car companies to the brink of ruin, it paid off in the long run. The car makers got billions in public money, paid their execs massive bonuses, gave billions to shareholders in buybacks and dividends, smashed their unions, fucked their pensioned workers, and shipped jobs anywhere they could pollute and murder their workforce with impunity.
Car companies are on the forefront of postcapitalism, and they understand that digital is the key to rent-extraction. Remember when BMW announced that it was going to rent you the seatwarmer in your own fucking car?
https://pluralistic.net/2020/07/02/big-river/#beemers
Not to be outdone, Mercedes announced that they were going to rent you your car’s accelerator pedal, charging an extra $1200/year to unlock a fully functional acceleration curve:
https://www.theverge.com/2022/11/23/23474969/mercedes-car-subscription-faster-acceleration-feature-price
This is the urinary tract infection business model: without digitization, all your car’s value flowed in a healthy stream. But once the car-makers add semiconductors, each one of those features comes out in a painful, burning dribble, with every button on that fakakta touchscreen wired directly into your credit-card.
But it’s just for starters. Computers are malleable. The only computer we know how to make is the Turing Complete Von Neumann Machine, which can run every program we know how to write. Once they add networked computers to your car, the Car Lords can endlessly twiddle the knobs on the back end, finding new ways to extract value from you:
https://doctorow.medium.com/twiddler-1b5c9690cce6
That means that your car can track your every movement, and sell your location data to anyone and everyone, from marketers to bounty-hunters looking to collect fees for tracking down people who travel out of state for abortions to cops to foreign spies:
https://www.vice.com/en/article/n7enex/tool-shows-if-car-selling-data-privacy4cars-vehicle-privacy-report
Digitization supercharges financialization. It lets car-makers offer subprime auto-loans to desperate, poor people and then killswitch their cars if they miss a payment:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4U2eDJnwz_s
Subprime lending for cars would be a terrible business without computers, but digitization makes it a great source of feudal rents. Car dealers can originate loans to people with teaser rates that quickly blow up into payments the dealer knows their customer can’t afford. Then they repo the car and sell it to another desperate person, and another, and another:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/07/27/boricua/#looking-for-the-joke-with-a-microscope
Digitization also opens up more exotic options. Some subprime cars have secondary control systems wired into their entertainment system: miss a payment and your car radio flips to full volume and bellows an unstoppable, unmutable stream of threats. Tesla does one better: your car will lock and immobilize itself, then blare its horn and back out of its parking spot when the repo man arrives:
https://tiremeetsroad.com/2021/03/18/tesla-allegedly-remotely-unlocks-model-3-owners-car-uses-smart-summon-to-help-repo-agent/
Digital feudalism hasn’t stopped innovating — it’s just stopped innovating good things. The digital device is an endless source of sadistic novelties, like the cellphones that disable your most-used app the first day you’re late on a payment, then work their way down the other apps you rely on for every day you’re late:
https://restofworld.org/2021/loans-that-hijack-your-phone-are-coming-to-india/
Usurers have always relied on this kind of imaginative intimidation. The loan-shark’s arm-breaker knows you’re never going to get off the hook; his goal is in intimidating you into paying his boss first, liquidating your house and your kid’s college fund and your wedding ring before you default and he throws you off a building.
Thanks to the malleability of computerized systems, digital arm-breakers have an endless array of options they can deploy to motivate you into paying them first, no matter what it costs you:
https://pluralistic.net/2021/04/02/innovation-unlocks-markets/#digital-arm-breakers
Car-makers are trailblazers in imaginative rent-extraction. Take VIN-locking: this is the practice of adding cheap microchips to engine components that communicate with the car’s overall network. After a new part is installed in your car, your car’s computer does a complex cryptographic handshake with the part that requires an unlock code provided by an authorized technician. If the code isn’t entered, the car refuses to use that part.
VIN-locking has exploded in popularity. It’s in your iPhone, preventing you from using refurb or third-party replacement parts:
https://doctorow.medium.com/apples-cement-overshoes-329856288d13
It’s in fuckin’ ventilators, which was a nightmare during lockdown as hospital techs nursed their precious ventilators along by swapping parts from dead systems into serviceable ones:
https://www.vice.com/en/article/3azv9b/why-repair-techs-are-hacking-ventilators-with-diy-dongles-from-poland
And of course, it’s in tractors, along with other forms of remote killswitch. Remember that feelgood story about John Deere bricking the looted Ukrainian tractors whose snitch-chips showed they’d been relocated to Russia?
https://doctorow.medium.com/about-those-kill-switched-ukrainian-tractors-bc93f471b9c8
That wasn’t a happy story — it was a cautionary tale. After all, John Deere now controls the majority of the world’s agricultural future, and they’ve boobytrapped those ubiquitous tractors with killswitches that can be activated by anyone who hacks, takes over, or suborns Deere or its dealerships.
Control over repair isn’t limited to gouging customers on parts and service. When a company gets to decide whether your device can be fixed, it can fuck you over in all kinds of ways. Back in 2019, Tim Apple told his shareholders to expect lower revenues because people were opting to fix their phones rather than replace them:
https://www.apple.com/newsroom/2019/01/letter-from-tim-cook-to-apple-investors/
By usurping your right to decide who fixes your phone, Apple gets to decide whether you can fix it, or whether you must replace it. Problem solved — and not just for Apple, but for car makers, tractor makers, ventilator makers and more. Apple leads on this, even ahead of Big Car, pioneering a “recycling” program that sees trade-in phones shredded so they can’t possibly be diverted from an e-waste dump and mined for parts:
https://www.vice.com/en/article/yp73jw/apple-recycling-iphones-macbooks
John Deere isn’t sleeping on this. They’ve come up with a valuable treasure they extract when they win the Right-to-Repair: Deere singles out farmers who complain about its policies and refuses to repair their tractors, stranding them with six-figure, two-ton paperweight:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/05/31/dealers-choice/#be-a-shame-if-something-were-to-happen-to-it
The repair wars are just a skirmish in a vast, invisible fight that’s been waged for decades: the War On General-Purpose Computing, where tech companies use the law to make it illegal for you to reconfigure your devices so they serve you, rather than their shareholders:
https://memex.craphound.com/2012/01/10/lockdown-the-coming-war-on-general-purpose-computing/
The force behind this army is vast and grows larger every day. General purpose computers are antithetical to technofeudalism — all the rents extracted by technofeudalists would go away if others (tinkereres, co-ops, even capitalists!) were allowed to reconfigure our devices so they serve us.
You’ve probably noticed the skirmishes with inkjet printer makers, who can only force you to buy their ink at 20,000% markups if they can stop you from deciding how your printer is configured:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/07/inky-wretches/#epson-salty But we’re also fighting against insulin pump makers, who want to turn people with diabetes into walking inkjet printers:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/10/loopers/#hp-ification
And companies that make powered wheelchairs:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/06/08/chair-ish/#r2r
These companies start with people who have the least agency and social power and wreck their lives, then work their way up the privilege gradient, coming for everyone else. It’s called the “shitty technology adoption curve”:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/08/21/great-taylors-ghost/#solidarity-or-bust
Technofeudalism is the public-private-partnership from hell, emerging from a combination of state and private action. On the one hand, bailing out bankers and big business (rather than workers) after the 2008 crash and the covid lockdown decoupled income from profits. Companies spent billions more than they earned were still wildly profitable, thanks to those public funds.
But there’s also a policy dimension here. Some of those rentiers’ billions were mobilized to both deconstruct antitrust law (allowing bigger and bigger companies and cartels) and to expand “IP” law, turning “IP” into a toolsuite for controlling the conduct of a firm’s competitors, critics and customers:
https://locusmag.com/2020/09/cory-doctorow-ip/
IP is key to understanding the rise of technofeudalism. The same malleability that allows companies to “twiddle” the knobs on their services and keep us on the hook as they reel us in would hypothetically allow us to countertwiddle, seizing the means of computation:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men
The thing that stands between you and an alternative app store, an interoperable social media network that you can escape to while continuing to message the friends you left behind, or a car that anyone can fix or unlock features for is IP, not technology. Under capitalism, that technology would already exist, because capitalists have no loyalty to one another and view each other’s margins as their own opportunities.
But under technofeudalism, control comes from rents (owning things), not profits (selling things). The capitalist who wants to participate in your iPhone’s “ecosystem” has to make apps and submit them to Apple, along with 30% of their lifetime revenues — they don’t get to sell you jailbreaking kit that lets you choose their app store.
Rent-seeking technology has a holy grail: control over “ring zero” — the ability to compel you to configure your computer to a feudalist’s specifications, and to verify that you haven’t altered your computer after it came into your possession:
https://pluralistic.net/2022/01/30/ring-minus-one/#drm-political-economy
For more than two decades, various would-be feudal lords and their court sorcerers have been pitching ways of doing this, of varying degrees of outlandishness.
At core, here’s what they envision: inside your computer, they will nest another computer, one that is designed to run a very simple set of programs, none of which can be altered once it leaves the factory. This computer — either a whole separate chip called a “Trusted Platform Module” or a region of your main processor called a secure enclave — can tally observations about your computer: which operating system, modules and programs it’s running.
Then it can cryptographically “sign” these observations, proving that they were made by a secure chip and not by something you could have modified. Then you can send this signed “attestation” to someone else, who can use it to determine how your computer is configured and thus whether to trust it. This is called “remote attestation.”
There are some cool things you can do with remote attestation: for example, two strangers playing a networked video game together can use attestations to make sure neither is running any cheat modules. Or you could require your cloud computing provider to use attestations that they aren’t stealing your data from the server you’re renting. Or if you suspect that your computer has been infected with malware, you can connect to someone else and send them an attestation that they can use to figure out whether you should trust it.
Today, there’s a cool remote attestation technology called “PrivacyPass” that replaces CAPTCHAs by having you prove to your own device that you are a human. When a server wants to make sure you’re a person, it sends a random number to your device, which signs that number along with its promise that it is acting on behalf of a human being, and sends it back. CAPTCHAs are all kinds of bad — bad for accessibility and privacy — and this is really great.
But the billions that have been thrown at remote attestation over the decades is only incidentally about solving CAPTCHAs or verifying your cloud server. The holy grail here is being able to make sure that you’re not running an ad-blocker. It’s being able to remotely verify that you haven’t disabled the bossware your employer requires. It’s the power to block someone from opening an Office365 doc with LibreOffice. It’s your boss’s ability to ensure that you haven’t modified your messaging client to disable disappearing messages before he sends you an auto-destructing memo ordering you to break the law.
And there’s a new remote attestation technology making the rounds: Google’s Web Environment Integrity, which will leverage Google’s dominance over browsers to allow websites to block users who run ad-blockers:
https://github.com/RupertBenWiser/Web-Environment-Integrity
There’s plenty else WEI can do (it would make detecting ad-fraud much easier), but for every legitimate use, there are a hundred ways this could be abused. It’s a technology purpose-built to allow rent extraction by stripping us of our right to technological self-determination.
Releasing a technology like this into a world where companies are willing to make their products less reliable, less attractive, less safe and less resilient in pursuit of rents is incredibly reckless and shortsighted. You want unauthorized bread? This is how you get Unauthorized Bread:
https://arstechnica.com/gaming/2020/01/unauthorized-bread-a-near-future-tale-of-refugees-and-sinister-iot-appliances/amp/
Tumblr media
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this thread to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/24/rent-to-pwn/#kitt-is-a-demon
Tumblr media
[Image ID: The interior of a luxury car. There is a dagger protruding from the steering wheel. The entertainment console has been replaced by the text 'You wouldn't download a car,' in MPAA scare-ad font. Outside of the windscreen looms the Matrix waterfall effect. Visible in the rear- and side-view mirror is the driver: the figure from Munch's 'Scream.' The screen behind the steering-wheel has been replaced by the menacing red eye of HAL9000 from Stanley Kubrick's '2001: A Space Odyssey.']
Tumblr media
Image: Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg
CC BY 3.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en
4K notes · View notes
despairots · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
━━ [ LYNEY! ] OBSESSED & FIXATED.
[ gender neutral! reader / they them pronouns used! for everybody! ] ━━ genre: fluff & small suggestive themes.
content warning ━━ light suggestive themes, swearing, lyney having cringy pick up lines but it’s okay because it’s lyney. shit writing since i haven’t written in a long time :( [ authors note: i love lyney so much, him and nikolai made me realize i love magicians & i might make a bsd masterlist soon cuz i also fixated on that. i remember watching season 1 of bsd in 2020 but got bored so i stopped but i started watching a month ago so. ]
Tumblr media
lyney and lynette’s magic show always makes your day, it was one of your favourite parts of your day. watching them pull magic tricks on the audience and you, despite you knowing how they work were still entertaining.
what made your heart accelerate was when lyney’s eyes would laid on you, with that flamboyant smirk and tipping his hat towards you could make anyone swoon, and it wasn’t a coincidence that you’ve fallen in love with him.
it was coincidence that you had bumped into him despite you trying to avoid him, it was like something drawn you in to have met him in person, and embarrassing enough, he had caught you by the waist even though you weren’t going to fall on the ground.
Tumblr media
“hello there, my dearest lotus bloom.” he teased, pulling you up and planting a kiss on your gloved hands, flustering you. “lyney! i— um.. sorry for bumping into you.” you apologized, covering half of your flustered face with the back of your other hand.
he chuckled with closed eyes, his hand still holding onto yours, “don’t worry, my lotus bloom. i wanted you to bump into me.” his words confused you but it wasn’t as if he didn’t spoke in riddles or won’t elaborate why.
bump into you? he noticed your confusion as he chuckled again, pulling a rose behind your ear and handing it to you, flustering you even more. he was such a cliché it was adorable, and watching you get flustered just because of being around him made him feel pride swell deep inside him
he knew your flustered looks when his eyes landed on you and he knew his effects on you as well, it was quite obvious as lynette picked up on her twin brother being more extra then usual.
“are you trying to impress them?” lynette sighed into her tea cup, blowing some steam away as freminet had question on who she was talking about, “hmph! they just caught my eye, dear sister!” lyney huffed and crossed his arms, freminet and lynette looking at eachother, not believing his words.
“is it [name] you’re talking about it?” lyney instantly snapped his head towards his little brother, “[name], you say?” freminet nodded at lyney as he questioned on who freminet knows them, “[name]’s a painter, younger kids ask them if they could make a certain piece of art and they finish it within seconds.” freminet explained, and that was lyney’s final straw to make you his.
“i must say, my dear lotus bloom, you sure have caught my eye.” he smiled at you, the same smile that would swipe people of their feet as he flashed it at you, “caught your eye? but lyney, i’m just a regular guest in your audience.”
you raised an eyebrow, twirling the rose in your hand, looking down at it. lyney placed a finger under your chin and made you look at him, “you, [name], are a special guest in my audience.” he whispered, eyes flickering to your eyes and your lips.
you blinked at his words before red reached your cheeks quickly when your brain had process his words and his actions, his gloved thumb glided against your shaky bottom lip, “a very special one..” his voice went down a nouch, getting closer to your lips.
“lyney..” you whispered, placing a hand on his shoulder as he placed a hand on your waist to pull you closer.
you must be dreaming, right? wrong. everything you’re experiencing is real, every shape he traced into your skin was real and his lips on yours was real as well. nothing you are experiencing is fake.
you threw your arms around his neck to draw him closer, never wanting to be separated from him again since you two felt like puzzles pieces that fit with eachother.
who knew being obsessed and fixated would’ve helped you to get that boy.
Tumblr media
1K notes · View notes
joelsgreys · 1 year
Text
lean on me
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
Tumblr media
series masterlist
summary: It's been three months since you and Joel left your baby daughter with Bill and Frank in Lincoln; you aren't coping well and Joel tries to help you get through it.
pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. BOSTON QZ ERA ((TW)) though it is not explicitly stated, it is implied reader is suffering from postpartum depression. mentions of being unable to breastfeed. angst, hurt, comfort, tiniest hint of fluff at the end.
word count: 3.7k
a/n: this was only meant to be a short drabble, but it ended up getting longer than i anticipated. sorry for more angst.
September, 2020
Joel had known things would get bad.
But he hadn’t expected for them to get this fucking bad.
He glanced across the table at Tess, quietly asking, “She eat today?”
Tess let out a small sigh, shaking her head. “Nope.” She picked up her chipped, ceramic mug and took a sip of crappy, two decades old dark roast coffee and stated, “She didn’t eat anything yesterday, either. Or the day before that or the one before that. I can barely get her to take a fucking sip of water these days.”
“Fuckin’ hell, Tess! We can’t just sit around watchin’ her starve herself,” he hissed at her, his hands curling into fists on the table. 
She shot him an irritated look. “You think I don’t know that already?”
“Tess—”
“What are we going to do, Joel? Pin her down and force feed her?”
Joel’s jaw clenched, his lips pressing together in a tight, thin line. He glanced over at you with a heavy, sinking feeling inside of his chest at the mere sight of your current state. 
You were sitting on the bed in the same pair of gray sweatpants you’d been wearing for the last couple of days, your knees pulled up to your chest as you stared blankly, vacantly, out of the window beside you at absolutely nothing. You were beginning to appear frail—the current tone of your skin was so dull, so washed out that anybody who took one glance at you would probably think that you had spent your entire life locked away in some basement, never having seen the fucking sunshine before. The pallor of your skin was only emphasized by the dark, bruise-like circles underneath your eyes, courtesy of the long and sleepless nights you’d been having, especially lately. 
You had fallen deep into a sadness, a darkness—one so deep that you had become nothing but a mere shadow of your former self. You were an empty shell of a human being and it was starting to scare the fucking shit out of Joel. 
“Maybe if we took her to see the baby?” Tess suggested, quietly. She took another sip of her coffee and then set her mug down. “Frank has been wondering why you two haven’t been over there to see her. Hell, even Bill is curious why I’ve been going over there alone.” After having done some digging around, Tess managed to find someone in the QZ who had helped her get her hands on homemade infant formula; it was worth gold and only ever went to officials of a higher ranking who could actually afford it. Somehow, she’d pulled a few strings and the next thing Joel knew, Tess was loading a pack full of cans to take over to Lincoln. She’d made a couple more trips since then, and each time, she had gone alone. “It’s been over three months, Joel. Maybe it’s finally time—maybe it would help her.”
“In her condition?” Joel shook his head, adamantly. “No. For one, she wouldn’t fuckin’ make it a mile down the road before collapsing—from exhaustion, from starvation, you name it. And even if she could make the trip somehow, the truth is, she’s not ready to see her.” He lowered his voice to keep you from overhearing him, although at this point, he was certain that you were too zoned out to even pay attention. Every word was probably going in through one ear and out the other. “I hate to say it, but she’s just not strong enough to see her yet, Tess.”
“And what about you, Texas? What’s your excuse?”
He glared at her. “You really think I can leave her here alone in a state like this while we go skippin’ off to Lincoln together?”
“Good point.” Tess paused and peered curiously at him. “You haven’t even told her what they named her, have you?”
“Don’t think that’s such a good idea right now, either.” Joel held back a heavy sigh as he looked down into his own mug of shitty coffee. A huge part of him wished that she hadn’t told him what Bill and Frank ended up naming the baby. Since then, his daughter’s name echoed in the back of his mind, over and over again, damn near constantly.
“Joel, if we don’t do something, she’s going to wind up—” Tess could see his jaw clench again and she stopped herself, choosing her words more carefully. “She’s walking on thin ice. She’s not eating, she’s not sleeping. She’s already been in lockup twice this week alone because she can’t even keep up with work detail anymore. I know this is hard for you to hear, but if something doesn’t change soon, things are only going to get worse from here—she’ll get worse. You’re the only one of the two of us who actually has a chance of getting through to her and you need to fucking do something.”
“Tess, I’ve tried—”
“Well fucking try harder, Joel. If you don’t, you’ll fucking lose her. You know that, right?”
“I know.” Joel rubbed his face tiredly with both of his hands. He knew it was nothing but the truth that she was speaking, but goddamn the truth fell onto his shoulders heavy, almost too heavy. It felt as though he were carrying the weight of the entire fucking planet. But she was right. If something wasn’t done, he was going to lose you. “Tess, you mind if I have a minute alone with her?”
She nodded and took one last gulp of coffee before standing up from the table. “Yeah. I have to go see Robert and a couple of his buffoons about something anyway.” As she walked past him towards the door, she stopped and tossed him a pointed look. “Maybe today is the day that you finally decide to give her that thing that you’ve been carrying around in your pocket,” she suggested. “We went through a lot of shit for it, Joel. It’s the reason we have been drinking crappier coffee than usual for the last two weeks.”
He nodded, watching her as she grabbed her jacket and left.
After a minute or two, Joel finally pushed himself away from the table and rose to his feet. He made his way over to you, and he wasn’t even the slightest bit surprised at how you didn’t turn to acknowledge him despite the sound of his heavy boots on the creaking hardwood floor. He said your name as he came closer to you, but you remained as still as a stone statue, your eyes still fixed outside of the window.
“Alright,” he said, standing next to you at the side of the bed, both of his hands placed firmly on his hips. “Enough is fuckin’ enough. I can’t and I won’t let you keep carryin’ on like this. Either you get up and get your ass over to that table and eat somethin’ or I’m going to pick you up off of this bed, take you over there, and feed you myself. And don’t think I won’t. I’ll tie you down to the chair if that’s what I’ve gotta do.”
Finally, you turned to look at him. You spoke, your voice sounding just as fragile as you looked. “I’m not hungry.”
Joel’s expression immediately softened.
Fuck. 
He couldn’t be tough on you, not in the state you were in—he thought being hard on you would be the way to get through to you, but he just didn’t have it in him to be stern with you, not when you were like this.
“Baby. Please.” He knelt down beside you, reaching for your hand. He winced at how frigid your hand felt in his palm, as if he were holding a block of ice. He brought his other hand up and placed it on top, doing his best to warm it up with both of his. “Look, I get it. I know that you miss her. I know that you’re hurtin’ over her. You might not think I get it, but I do.” He paused, feeling sick to his stomach upon noticing the lifelessness in your eyes. He almost wished that he could see you cry, because at least he would know for certain that you were still in there somewhere—but Joel hadn’t seen you shed a single tear since you’d broken down sobbing in his arms that night in Lincoln. “You just can’t keep goin’ on like this. You don’t eat, you’ve barely slept in weeks. You keep fallin’ behind with all your work assignments and you’ve landed yourself in lockup more times than I can fuckin’ count because of it.”
You simply shrugged, as if you couldn’t give two shits about any of it.
Joel managed to bite back his sigh of frustration. He knew that losing his temper would do nothing more than sink you further into the hole you were currently in. But he was angry. He was just so fucking angry about about everything. Here you were, just slipping right through his fucking fingers, slowly fading away right before his own two eyes and he didn’t know what to do to stop it from happening. He felt lost. He felt hopeless—useless. 
He squeezed your hand out of desperation. He would fucking plead if he had to. “I need you to fuckin’ snap out of it. Please,” he begged, as he continued holding your hand tightly, holding onto it as if he were holding onto dear life itself. “Please, for the love of fuckin’ god, I need you to just snap out of it. If not for yourself, fuckin’ do it for me—do it for her.”
“Snap out of it?” You repeated. “You want me to just snap out of it?”
“Baby, please just listen to me for one goddamn second—”
You snatched your hand out of both of his. “I can’t just fucking snap out of it, Joel!” You nearly shouted at him, speaking the loudest he’d heard you speak in several weeks. “Alright? I can’t snap out of it! My heart is shattered into pieces, don’t you fucking understand that?”
“‘Course I do. Givin’ her up was hard for me too,” he reminded you quietly, resisting the urge to match your tone. 
“And I don’t deny that,” You prefaced yourself. “I know it was hard on you too, Joel. But you’re not the one who came this close, this damn fucking close to aborting her.” You held up your index finger and your thumb close together. You’d started trembling as everything seemed to catch up to you all at once—sleep deprivation, malnourishment and of course, the emotions you had been bottling up inside of you for the last three months. “You’re not the one who carried her inside of your womb for almost nine months, who felt every one of her flutters and her kicks. You’re not the one who had to go through the excruciating pain of giving birth to her in this crumbling apartment, only to have to place her in someone else’s arms and leave her behind three days later. You’re not the one who had to deal with the aftermath, Joel. Do you know how much it fucking hurt not to be able to feed her? How much it fucking sucked to have to wait for your milk supply to dry up because you no longer had a baby to feed?”
For the first time in a long time, Joel was left speechless. 
He didn’t know what to say. Hell, there was nothing he could say.
Because you were absolutely fucking right.
None of what you’d just said to him was a lie. Of course he knew that giving the baby up had been a hundred times harder on you than it’d been on him—mentally, emotionally, and even physically. He thought back to the nights when he would see you sitting there with your own arms wrapped around your chest, knowing you were aching, knowing that although you said nothing about it, you were in unbearable pain from being unable to breastfeed. 
And what could he do about it?
Not a goddamn fucking thing.
Still, Joel had tried. He always made the attempt to comfort you, only to be shot down time and time again. He’d been so used to being the one who rejected any kind of support that, when the tables had been turned on him, he hadn’t known how to handle it. Joel could feel the guilt slowly creeping in as he wondered if perhaps he just hadn’t tried hard enough for you. He was your partner—it was his duty to take care of you, to look out for you, to protect you, and yet here he was, failing to do any of that. 
He could have done more. 
He should have done more.
Especially after all the friction he’d caused from the beginning of your pregnancy. From letting you go to those crooked motherfuckers for a procedure that could have cost you your life, down to the way he had treated you the night you’d brought up Sarah, it seemed as though all Joel had been doing was fucking up, time after time. 
Seeing the expression on Joel’s face, you immediately knew what he must have been thinking. Your eyes widened and you quickly uttered a nearly breathless apology. “Joel, I’m so fucking sorry—”
He stopped you, tightly shaking his head. “No, don’t be. It’s true, it’s all fuckin’ true.”
Finally, after three months of bone-dry eyes, a warm tear slipped out, falling down the side of your face. Your entire body shuddered as the flood gates opened and more followed in suit, each one falling faster, harder than the last. The next thing you knew, Joel had pulled himself up onto the mattress beside you, pulling you into his arms just as you had started sobbing. With one hand, he delicately cradled the back of your head as you cried and cried into his shoulder. The other rubbed a soothing circle into your back over and over again. 
And just like that night in Lincoln, Joel just held you, waiting patiently as you finally allowed yourself to release each and every single one of your emotions out into the open. He didn’t say a word to you, nor did he attempt to stop the tears—he just held you close, merely using his touch to silently let you know that he would wait as long as he had to until you were finished.
“Joel,” You sniffed his name, your hands clutching fistfuls of his shirt.
“I’m right here, baby,” he assured you, holding you even closer against him, as close as humanly possible. His heartbeat was right in your ear and you closed your eyes, listening to it and letting it calm you. “I told you I wasn’t gonna let you carry this pain alone, darlin’. You remember that?”
You nodded against his chest, whispering, “I remember.”
“Well then, you’ve gotta let me help you,” Joel said into your hair. “For three months, I’ve been tryin’ but you just keep pushin’ me away. It doesn’t work like that. I need you to lean on me. I need for you to let me back in and help you because the road you’re headin’ down right now is a dangerous one.” 
Opening your eyes, you pulled away from him slightly, just far enough to meet his worried gaze. You could see the absolute fucking hell that you had been putting him through and felt your heart clench painfully inside of your chest. “I know I can’t keep going on like this, Joel,” You admitted softly to him. “Believe me, I know that. I tried so hard to get a fucking grip. There have been so many days where I think to myself, today is the day that I’m going to get my shit together. But then I just think of her sweet and innocent little face and I just fall apart all over again.” You muffled another sob with the palm of your hand.
“Oh, baby.” He gave your body a gentle, but firm squeeze. If he could take your pain away, all of it, and carry it along with his own, he would do it in a fucking heartbeat. 
You swallowed harshly. “I know she is far better off where she is, Joel, I know that she is. I never want her falling into the hands of FEDRA. It kills me to think of her being here in this shitty fucking place, going to their shitty fucking school.” Your voice broke at the mere thought of it all. “We know what would happen, Joel. As soon as she comes of age and meets their requirement, they will put her through their recruiting program. After her training, they either deem her worthy of becoming a fucking ruthless officer or they will give her the shittiest civilian jobs making her work for scraps of nothing, the same way they do to us.”
Joel sighed, rubbing your back again. “I know, baby. I know. It’s why we did what we did. We did what we had to do to spare her from that shit.”
“But then there’s this selfish part of me that wants her back so badly, so fucking badly that it makes me fucking ache,” You confessed, guilt lacing your tone of voice. “I just want the hurt to stop. I want to be at peace with the decision that we made, but the way I miss her, it feels almost impossible. I feel like I’ll never be able to accept that this is the way things have to be.”
“You have to accept it—we have to accept it. We ain’t got a choice,” Joel spoke the truth to you as gently as he could, though he knew it wouldn’t make a difference.
“I know,” You whispered, your eyes glazing over with fresh tears.
He stared at you for a moment and then pressed his lips against your forehead. Deciding it was time to show you what he’d been keeping a secret from you, Joel reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out a small, crumpled up wad of brown tissue paper. With one of his arms still around you, he used both of his hands to unwrap the tissue paper only to reveal a delicate silver chain—a bit too old to be shiny, but still in good shape nonetheless. Joel picked it up and tossed the tissue off to the side. He held it up in front of you to give you a better look at it. 
A single white pearl hung from the chain. 
“Joel, where did you get this?” You gasped lightly, taking it from him with trembling fingers. You didn’t even want to know what the hell he must have had to do or trade for it. Sure, jewelry was one of the most useless items that anyone could possess in this world because it no longer had any monetary value, but if someone wanted something bad enough and another person had it, then advantage was going to be taken somewhere, somehow. 
“Don’t you worry ‘bout that, darlin’.”
You glanced up at him, an incredulous look in your eyes. “Joel.”
He almost chuckled, knowing you wouldn't let him off that easy. “I’d mentioned to Tess that I wanted to get you somethin’ special to carry around with you, somethin’ that would remind you of her. Tess said a pearl was the birthstone for June, and so I asked her to help me find one a few weeks ago. She found some guy and I cut a deal for it. But that’s all I’m tellin’ you.”
Joel took the necklace from you and beckoned for you to turn around for him. Moving your hair aside, he reached around you and clasped it at the back of your neck. “I’d rather only you wear it when you’re here in the apartment. Once you go outside, it stays hidden in your pocket so no one sees it, alright?”
You turned back around to face him. “I don’t even know what to say. I can’t believe you did this for me, Joel.” You reached for his hands and held them tightly in your own as you shot him a sincere, grateful look. “Thank you.”
He leaned forward, lightly brushing his mouth against yours. “Baby?”
“Yes?” You murmured against his lips.
Joel squeezed your hands, hesitating for a moment before he said, “I know I’ve only ever said it to you once—that night. Outside of Bill and Frank’s place. But I need you to know that I love you. The truth is, I’ve been lovin’ you for a long time now. Never had it in me to admit it, not even to myself.” His eyes met yours in such a tender way that you felt a part of your broken heart begin to heal itself. It was just a small part, and you knew that unless you had your daughter back, it would never mend itself completely. Still, it was enough to give you a sense of hope. It was just enough to remind you that you would be able to find the strength in you to survive this pain. If you had any reason to keep going, it was right there it front of you. It was Joel. “I love you. I’m gonna do everythin’ that I can to help you through this. All you’ve gotta do is lean on me, alright?”
“I love you, Joel.” Though you’d said it to him once before, it still felt a bit foreign to say out loud.
It felt right, though. And it felt right hearing him say it to you. 
Reaching up, you lightly clasped the pearl in your hand. You leaned into Joel’s chest and felt him wrap his arms around you. 
“Y’know,” Joel said, breaking the momentary silence that had fallen over you, “Tess said Frank’s been wondering why we haven’t been over to see her yet. I know it might still be a bit too soon for you, but—” He let his sentence trail.
Though he didn’t say it out loud, you could hear it in his voice.
He wanted to see the baby.
“I’m not ready for that just yet,” You admitted. “I want to see her more than anything, but look at me. I’m a fucking mess.” You paused, clutching onto the pearl a little tighter. “Maybe we can try in a few weeks? What do you think?”
Joel kissed the top of your head. “Soon as you’re ready, say the word and we’ll go.”
Tumblr media
3K notes · View notes
old-lorarri · 3 months
Text
꒰꒰ ‧₊˚𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐆 ─ 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔 ˚₊· ꒱꒱
Tumblr media
─ summary . . . ❨ in which a series of texts shows the time line of a 5 year long relationship and how somewhere along the line it all went wrong ❩ ─ pairing . . . ❨ charles leclerc x fem! ex gf! reader ❩ ─ genre . . . ❨ social media file ❩ ─ author note . . . . ❨ this is a bit more angsty than I'm use to tbh so I hope you guys like it also before you ask they may be a part 2 if you guys can give me enough motivation / ideas to write on so anyway enjoy! ❩
Tumblr media
❨ taglist | masterlist ❩
Tumblr media Tumblr media
31th march, 2018
CHARLIE BABY ❤️
hey it's charles 👋
I really enjoyed haning out with you tonight 😊
Y/N 💋
hey charles 👋
yeah me too 🥹
hope we can do it again soon 🫡
CHARLIE BABY ❤️
actually that's what I wanted to talk about...
would you maybe consider coming to the monaco grand prix
and then maybe after I could take you on a date
as more than just friends?
If you don't want to then that's fine
sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable
Y/N 💋
don't be silly charles 😭
I would love to come to the race
and go on a date with you
CHARLIE BABY ❤️
thank you so much
I promis you won't regret this
Y/N 💋
charles don't worry
I know I'm not gonna regret this 😌
10th june, 2019
CHARLIE BABY ❤️
hi mon amore
happy 1 year aniversy ❤️
sorry I had to leave early this morning
but to make up for it I tried to cook breakfast
failed 😞
and then orderd you fav pastries you like with your coffee 😌
your gifts are in your walk in closest 😉
Y/N 💋
omg charles
you got me the dress 🥹
CHARLIE BABY ❤️
ofc baby I know how much you wanted it
and what kind of boyfriend would I be if I couldn't get my amazing beautiful stunning girlfriend everything she wanted and more
but that's not all
I also got us a reservation at that new restaurant you have been eyeing for the last week
so have your sexy ass ready by 8 and I'll be waiting to pick you up 😉
Y/N 💋
god I love you so much ❤️
CHARLIE BABY ❤️
I love you too baby ❤️
15th august, 2020
CHARLIE BABY ❤️
happy birthday my special girl!
still can't belive you are mine
remind me to send some flowers to your mother for carrying you for 9 months
Y/N 💋
WOW
you really want my parents to like you huh?
CHARLIE BABY ❤️
is it that obvious?
Y/N 💋
charles baby if I've noticed it
they have defiently noticed it
CHARLIE BABY ❤️
It's just if I wanna marry you someday I have to have your parents blessings
Y/N 💋
baby
ofc they like you (and if they don't I will force them to like you cuz I cannot imagine a day without you in my life)
I love you ❤️
CHARLIE BABY ❤️
I love you too mon amore ❤️
21st september, 2021
Y/N 💋
hey baby I'm waiting for you at the resturant
where are you?
it's date night remember
CHARLIE BABY ❤️
mon amore I'm so sorry
I have ateam meeting right now that's running over time
and I won't be albe to make it
maybe another night?
I promis I'll make it up to you
I love you ❤️
Y/N 💋
okay
I love you too ❤️
delivered
25th november, 2022
Y/N 💋
charles baby
are you coming home tonight?
CHARLIE BABY ❤️
no
alot of work left to do at the factory
I'll see you tomorrow
Y/N 💋
okay stay safe
I love you ❤️
read
december 31st, 2023
CHARLIE BABY ❤️
hey do you have your outfit picked for the ferrari new year party
we need to match cuz
for photo's and stuff
Y/N 💋
hey charles we need to talk... I wish I could do this face to face but I don't have the heart to.
I wanna break up
I'm sorry but I can't do this anymore
CHARLIE BABY ❤️
baby what's wrong
I can fix this
please
Y/N don't do this
what's wrong please talk to me
is there somone else
do you want me to buy you that new rolex you wanted
we can do couple therapy we can work through this
please Y/N let me make this right
don't leave me
I love you ❤️
Y/N 💋
I'm sorry Charles
but this is goodbye
98 missed calls from CHARLIE BABY ❤️
32 voice mails from CHARLIE BABY ❤️
Y/N 💋 has blocked CHARLIE BABY ❤️
Tumblr media
─ requested by . . .
anon ─ Hello, how are you? I wanted to know if you can write an imagine where Charles and reader have been together for years, but the relationship is not going well, they don't see each other every day, he stands her up on dates, doesn't keep his promises and stuff, so reader gets tired and ends the relationship.You decide if it has happy or sad ending 👀.Thx ✨(Sorry if there are any mistakes, but English is not my first language)
634 notes · View notes
doctorbeth · 10 months
Text
Bubbles the Bunny
Bubbles is cross between a doll and a stuffed animal. Animal head and limbs, cloth body that looks like clothes. Not an unusual combination. Like many of her style animal, her cloth body had worn over the years much more than her furry animal parts (which are a thicker material).
Her person first wrote back in December 2020, asking about help for Bubbles. But as we all know... time kind of went all wibbly wobbly over the last few years, and Bubbles, even though her family is local, didn't make it to the hospital till this winter. Here are the second batch of diagnosis photos, from right before she came to the hospital:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
What you may or may not be able to see, is that there are a few layers of clothes on Bubbles. She also has some inner ear tearing, her nose and mouth are gone, and she has some balding on her fur. The plan was to treat all of this, plus give her a spa. Her family was providing the fabric for her new clothes.
Here she is in her bubble bath:
Tumblr media
And here's here heart being made and installed with a bit of her original stuffing and the new fabric we'd be using for her cotton body parts:
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
After some time in surgery, she was feeling much better with her new flowered fabric, balding treated, and newly lined inner ears:
Tumblr media
Last touch... a bit more stuffing and new nose:
Tumblr media
Her family picked her up and she got hugs from every one... in multiple generations!
2K notes · View notes
soleminisanction · 7 months
Text
Okay this misconception keeps coming across my dash and it drives me nuts because it means people are lumping two very different versions of the DC universe under one disparaging banner. So let me just say this to get it off my chest because I'm this close to shaking somebody:
The New 52 ended seven years ago in 2016.
That started a section of DC's history called "Rebirth" in which they started bringing elements of the pre-Flashpoint continuity back into the timeline. The first changes came in a big burst called Convergence -- which is how Jon Kent effectively manifested fully formed at 10 years old -- while other reintroductions like Kon-El, Bart Allen, Cass Cain, etc. were more gradual.
The original plan, being forced through by King of Bad Decisions Dan Didio, was that after ~4-5 Rebirth would give way to another full reboot known as 5G. I could go into detail about the plans but they're honestly not important to this post because Didio was (thankfully, finally) ousted from his role as publisher early in 2020, along with something like 80% of the higher-level editorial staff. DC had a complete creative turn-over at the start of the pandemic and completely changed directions as a result. The material being developed for 5G was retooled into the hypothetical future event "Future State" to buy the new staff time to pull together their new direction.
That new direction is called INFINITE FRONTIER. It started in 2021 and THAT is the era of DC comics we're in now. Infinite Frontier is an active push to bring back the pre-Flashpoint characters, as well as some pre-Crisis ideas and characters, while also keeping the few elements of the New 52 that people actually liked (like Jason Todd's more heroic characterization) and actively pursuing diversity initiatives both in creative staff and in creations. And outside of the big events, they're making a real effort to keep these comics short and self contained in the hopes that that'll make them more accessible. So it's actually really easy, if you read comics pre-Flashpoint and dropped off, to just pick up a series and go with the flow. Anything confusing is just a Google away.
Please, please don't make the mistake of thinking modern comics are as bad as the New 52 just because some people are butthurt their ship isn't getting canonized. There have been some really good comics made in the last few years that you should totally try! Spirit World, Monkey Prince and the entire We Are Legends line has been genuinely fantastic. The new Birds of Prey is shaping up to be a ton of fun. Dark Knights of Steel is an entertaining Elseworld. Urban Legends and Brave & the Bold have done some really fun things with shorter anthology books. One Minute War was a really fun Flash family event and everything Stargirl's done recently is liable to make you cry.
I'm begging people to give these comics a chance. It's just really sad to see them being dismissed out of hand.
553 notes · View notes
evilhorse · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
I enjoy cheap drinks with expensive people.
18 notes · View notes
aajjks · 10 months
Text
yandere!BTS: you say you don’t love them.
Tumblr media
disclaimer: this post contains dark heavy content, it is filled with themes that can be triggering for many, so viewers discretion is heavily advised. This is purely fictional and this does not represent bts members irl.
warnings: YANDERE CONTENT, crying, extreme jealousy, profanity, degradation, emotional manipulation, guilt tripping, obsessive behaviour and unhealthy relationship dynamics, mentions of punching someone.
note: BACK IN MY 2020 ERA HAHA. share your thoughts n feedback, after so long I’m finally writing for other members too, it felt really nice!!!! ENJOY!!!
Tumblr media
Jimin:
You won’t even look at him.
“YN, look at me.” He has been begging you to look at him for the last couple of days. He feels like he will go insane if he doesn’t feel your gaze on him any longer.
Jimin knows you are upset. And you have every right to be, he’s always doing something to make you hate him even more. Why can’t he just learn to control his jealousy?
“YN please! I’m sorry!” He scoops in closer to you, he is so distraught, how can he fix this, this time he knows he fucked up bad.
Insulting your friends was a stupid thing to do, he’s learnt that by now, if only he wasn’t so blind with his jealousy.
“Fuck off, Jimin.” You groan at him, your face is tilted towards the other side and his hands grab your shoulders, but you are stubborn. “P-Please I’m sorry I told you I’ve realised my mistake!” How can he get you to forgive him?
“I hate you! You’re fucking immature and stupid!” Your words are like bullets to his chest, but he maintains his composure, he cannot start crying right now because he doesn’t want to prove you right.
“YN- I-I know… I’m sorry I fucked up bad, but p-please don’t say you hate me!” Jimin gasps in surprise as you finally turn towards him, your gaze settles on him.
“Y-YN!!!!! Thank God baby!” He leans in closer to hug you but you immediately stop him. “No. I’ve had enough, I need a break.”
His whole world crashes down in front of his eyes.
“W-What do you mean!?” His eyes are wide and glossy already, he cannot believe this, you are going to leave him? Just because of your shitty friends?
“Yes you heard me, I need space from you- fuck I don’t want to look at you!” You stand up and glare at him. “This is not the first time you’ve crossed a line Jimin!”
He follows you, “YN THIS IS ABSURD! I TOLD YOU THAT IM SORRY! Y-YOU CANT LEAVE ME! Not over s-such a small issue!”
“SMALL ISSUE? Oh God… why am I even trying with you! You’ll never understand!” You try to move past him but he is quick to block you, “n-no you can’t leave me! YOU LOVE ME!” His crescent eyes look back into yours with a dark hue in them.
You laugh, “I-I did love you but I don’t think that I love you anymore.”
“Y-You don’t mean that!” Jimin breaks down at your words, fat tears start rolling down his eyes, it always ends like this.
He always manages to make you feel guilty.
But this time you’ll stand to your ground. You have to leave him.
“YES I DO. And you can’t stop me anymore Jimin.”
Tumblr media
Taehyung:
Taehyung is glaring at you.
“Quit being a brat already.” He rolls his eyes but you don’t respond, it irks him so much, he doesn’t like your silence.
Taehyung doesn’t know how to handle you, or himself if he’s being truthful. Your relationship with him is fragile, he knows, he can see it breaking into pieces that he won’t be able to pick up.
But he can’t let that happen.
“YN.” He calls out your name, “you know that I won’t let you go out so why are you even trying huh?” He grabs your face and caresses your skin gently.
It makes you sick, how can such a monster like him even try to act gentle with you.
“Don’t touch me.” You slap his hand away, he sighs softly, his eyes make you nervous, you know he’s holding back his anger.
“You know, you always manage to test my fuckin patience.” He laughs, you look at him with no emotion, he doesn’t mean anything to you, you don’t care about him, you don’t love him.
You’ve never loved him, you’ve always feared him.
“You’re so lucky that I love you YN, but you always have to act like an ungrateful bitch, don’t you?” His words are harsh just like his soul.
How can anyone ever love him.
“Taehyung I don’t love you.” You stare back at him with equal anger, “what? Don’t act like you didn’t know.” It’s your turn to roll your eyes at him, he’s biting the inside of his cheek.
The satisfaction of hurting his feelings washes over you, the man doesn’t move an inch though, his eyes are empty.
“Well you better start loving me or I’ll fucking kill you.”
Tumblr media
Jungkook:
It’s eating him up, you’re fuming with anger.
He doesn’t know what to do, it’s too late anyways.
He already fucked up.
“FUCK YOU!” You spit at him, he can’t even look at you, his heart is thumping loud. Your voice is so loud that he cringes at the vibration. “YOU ARE FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE TO BE WITH!”
He doesn’t feel guilty about it though, he just feels guilty about the fact that it happened in front of you. “SPEAK NOW! You don’t shut the fuck up when you should and now you’re fucking quite!” You cross your arms to your chest and stand in front of him.
“YN I’m sorry to disappoint you but I don’t regret it one bit.” He looks up at you and confesses, you study him and yes it’s true.
There’s no regret in his eyes.
“Of course.” Your voice is breaking. He can never change, and it hurts to realise that. “HE FLIRTED WITH YOU RIGHT INFRONT OF ME!”
He’s screaming at you, it’s scary how he doesn’t realise his actions.
“You fucking punched him. That’s it I’m DONE.”
You are crying at this point, “I th-thought that you could change, Jungkook but you can’t. And I can’t take this anymore, your behaviour is starting to make me hate you.” You start to move back from him as he moves closer to you.
“Y-YN you love me and I love you! That’s enough for us, a-and I only protected our love!” You are too slow to get away from him and he grabs your body,
“What love? This is not love at all, I should’ve realised that way before but I chose to ignore my instincts! I don’t think I love you anymore.”
“You are impossible to love, Jungkook.”
“W-What?” Jungkook looks broken, his hands leave your body finally, he falls down to the floor of your bedroom, his tears don’t escape his eyes.
He feels numb.
Just like how you’ve been feeling this entire relationship, you both are toxic for each other, you bring out the worst in him.
He needs to let you go.
“I-I love you- YOU LOVE ME. I won’t l-let you go! I WONT! No matter what you say!”
Tumblr media
612 notes · View notes
sanctus-ingenium · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
WIPs of some of my drawings where i made a full little painting for the sketch to nail colours or values first. i thought it would be fun to do a Behind The Scenes and also show u how some drawings changed, what i kept and what i discarded and at what point i just started adding unplanned details
all these were done using a mixture of sai and procreate
more comments on The Process under the cut
eye of the otherworld is inspired by a real photo i took two weeks ago!
Tumblr media
i soooo wanted to draw water that looked like this, weeds and all, so the original colours of that sketch were picked direct from the photo. but i wasn’t satisfied with it so i changed it using a gradient map (you can see it’s crunchy on the borders between colours). for the final, i re-painted everything again using the sketch colours as a guide so that i would not end up with the crunchy edges a gradient map will give u, and so that i could add in extra contrast over the top. the black swirl pattern in the final was an ad lib lol but i’m really happy with how it gives the impression of water or liquid even if it’s not realistic... i will try again to recreate something like this photo tho because i am obsessed. the birds were originally swans but the necks were driving me crazy i needed a bird with a shorter neck and grebes are associated with this location in canon so it was perfect. they have very funny feet. the last detail i added to this was the white flashes in their primary flight feathers (which do not occur in nature btw)
hanged man was an interesting one because it’s based on a sketch i made in 2020 when i first wrote this fun impalement scene
Tumblr media
here is félix being impaled for the first time in 2020 by a rusted harpoon that essentially rips his human disguise off to reveal the black carapace underneath
for the coloured sketch in the photoset i re-lined this exact sketch in sai to update it to match my current lineart style, but as you can see i realised the pose itself needed work and not just a re-line so i completely redid it in procreate to exaggerate the pose and gestures. i went into this one already knowing exactly what bg colours i wanted so that was no issue but the hardest part was weirdly figuring out what he was going to be standing on. in canon he is standing on top of a very high wall and leaning back over a fatal drop. the black pencil lines in the clouds and the bird were ad libbed but i liked the idea of throwing the bird in as some extra symbol of freedom the likes of which you will not experience if you have been shot with a harpoon. the green was not working at all so the swap out to more purpley pink tones was last minute. i unified the different colours by using a colour-shifting brush (you’ll see that his gaiters are different colours - i didn’t hand pick those, the colour jitter did)
for Big Pascal... originally it was going to be a confrontation between the guy on the ground and pascal but i wasn’t feeling the standing pose and it ended up being... if not restful then at least maybe a little more benevolent than the shadow of colossus shit it was before. the white cracks in the sky were originally going to be black but it just didn’t work. a lot of people tag this one as some form of cowboy aesthetic which is funny to me. there’s no cowboys here
i do like the lens flare effect in the b&w thumbnail tbh and i think i kind of lost the low camera angle effect in the final
i drew a bonus comic of the two characters interacting during this scene (mostly the lil guy just trying to ignore what’s happening in the sky)
4K notes · View notes
pb524830 · 3 months
Text
anyone else
part: 2 pairing: paige bueckers x oc word count: 2.9k c/w: sexual content, language a/n: here's part two! let me know if you guys would want to see something from paige's pov... i'm thinking about it
SEPTEMBER 2020
“You don’t have to walk me home,” I laugh.
“You didn’t have to stay and watch me shoot,” Paige retorts. I hide a smile at this.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t immediately attracted to her. Her tall, lithe figure, long blonde hair that seems to fall just perfectly, those wide, piercing blue eyes that make you want to tell her just about anything. 
“I wanted to,” I admit. She grins at this, her teeth glinting in profile when I look up at this. “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” I nudge her side with my shoulder, and she laughs, stumbling. The Connecticut air is crisp, not yet too cold, but a perfect median. “Anybody ever call you Ava?” She asks. I hesitate. “No, actually.” She smiles. “Can I call you Ava?”
I purse my lips. “Yeah. Yeah, you can.” “Avantika’s such a pretty name, though,” She muses. I roll my eyes. “I already told you that line isn’t gonna work on me.”
Paige tuts, skipping in front of me to walk backwards, my practice bag slung onto her shoulder. “Ah, but you’re letting me walk you home, aren’t you?” I snort. “You’re just free labor for me.” She holds a hand to her heart. “That’s all I am to you? After all these years?” I laugh out loud at this.
“See? I made you smile.” Paige stops in front of my apartment complex.
“I’m laughing at you,” I tell her firmly.
“Doesn’t make your smile any less beautiful,” she says, her tone suddenly serious.
My breath catches in my throat. “You should get home,” I tell her. She hands me my bag and takes a step closer. “When can I see you again… Ava?” I bite my lip, looking up at her. “When do you want to see me again… Paige?” 
The smile she gives me is radiant.
OCTOBER 2020
“Stop.”
“No.”
“Paige.”
“Hi!”
“Oh, my God. Put your phone down and start studying.”
“I’m bored,” Paige whines, flopping backwards on her couch. At this point, we’ve been hanging out for about a month - studying together, walking each other to class, things of that sort. We’d gotten… close. She still hits on me shamelessly, but it’s grown endearing. Enticing, even. I hate to say it, but I like being around her. I like hearing her make stupid jokes, I like her easy laugh, and I like how she makes me feel: desired. Wanted. I think I like her.
I throw a Cheez-It at her head, and it lands in her hair. She fishes it out. “Do not eat that,” I tell her firmly. She smirks, then pops it into her mouth. “Oh, you’re gross.” “Can we go to my room? It’s more comfortable there,” she suggests.
I raise an eyebrow at her. “That’s a really shitty way to try and get in my pants,” I tease. She gapes at me. “You’re such a pervert,” she accuses. I wave her off. “Yes, we can hang out in there. Just give me a sec to finish this lab.” She lays back down on the couch on her stomach, poking my knee. “You wanna smoke? I have the pen,” she offers. I ponder for a moment, reviewing my numbers and comparing them with my lab partner’s. “Yeah, why not?” I agree. She pumps her fist. “Yes,” she whispers triumphantly. I laugh as she rests her cheek against my knee, looking up at me expectantly. “Are you done now?” I click the submit button. “All done!” She cheers, closing my laptop and setting it to the side, before picking me up by my waist and throwing me over her shoulder.
I laugh loudly, hitting at her back before she tosses me onto her bed, a soft purple comforter covering the length of it. I settle against her pillows as she digs through her drawer, hunting for the pen. She eyes it. “Do you think that’s enough?” She asks. I cock my head, squinting at the yellow-ish oil remaining in the pen. “Should be good,” I muse.
She hits the pen, inhaling deeply, before blowing the smoke out into my face. I bite my lip, letting the minty smell of her breath mix with the smell of cannabis. She plops down next to me, handing me the pen. We trade it back and forth for a few hits, the scent of the smoke settling in a haze over us. Soon enough, my body’s relaxed, my mind moving sluggishly as I turn to face her, taking the pen from her.
“Hey, sexy,” she says, handing it over.
“Hey, yourself,” I murmur, eyeing her lips. I find my eyes drawn there a lot lately. Either to her lips or to her fingers. Or her eyes. Or her biceps. Really just anything about her. 
Right now, I’m drawn to the evil glint in her eye. “Wanna play a game?” She proposes. I hold the pen out to her, and instead of taking it in her hand, she takes a deep draw from my hand. She puffs out the smoke, and my heart stutters. “What kind of game?” I ask.
Paige sits up. “Truth or Strip,” she says. I raise an eyebrow. My heart pounds, and in the haze of my high I swear I can feel it in my throat. “No way,” I reply. “Come on,” she urges. “Don’t be such a pussy,” she says. I look down at my outfit; a pair of high waisted flare jeans and a UConn baby tee. Paige has on a hoodie and sweats, but I’m not sure what else she has on underneath. Surely more than me. I shrug the thought off. What could Paige possibly ask that I don’t want to answer?
“Sure,” I say, sitting up to face her. “Let’s play.”
“What’s the craziest place you’ve ever had sex?”
Oh. “My high school locker room. What’s your body count?”
Paige bites her lip. Then, she reaches for the hem of her hoodie, pulling it over her head. 
“Which of my teammates would you fuck?”
“Aubrey,” I answer immediately.
Paige laughs, eyes flicking to my lips. “That was quick.”
I shrug. “I know what I want,” I say back.
Paige sits back against the pillows, her t-shirt riding up to expose her midriff ever so slightly. “Your turn,” she says. There’s a shift in the room, a shift in her gaze, and suddenly, even though I have all my clothes on - I feel naked.
“Would you be okay? If I fucked Aubrey?” I ask softly, tracking her eyes with my own. I watch her tongue dart out to wet her lips, and she wordlessly tugs her shirt off, letting it fall to the side. I desperately try to pretend that the sight of her torso, her toned stomach and prominent collarbones, coated with a slight sheen of sweat from her high, doesn’t drive me insane.
“Would you rather fuck Aubrey… or me?”
Answer her. I finger the fabric of my baby tee, before shrugging it off, leaving me in my bra and jeans. I toss it at Paige. She raises both her eyebrows, watching me through hooded eyes. Her eyes trail across my chest, then my face. She picks my shirt up from where it’s landed on her stomach and lets it fall off the bed. 
“Why’d you really walk me home the night we met?” I breathe.
Paige watches my mouth move, eyes following my lips. “I just wanted to know what it would be like to kiss you,” she whispers. “Why’d you let me walk you home?”
I don’t know.
I reach for the button of my pants, sitting up onto my knees. Paige makes a noise in the back of her throat, watching me shimmy them down my thighs. “Do you want to fuck me right now?” I ask boldly. Paige says nothing. She just lifts her hips off the bed and pushes the waistband of her pants down. Wordlessly, I reach over to help, tugging them down her legs, then placing faint kisses on her thighs on the way back up, admiring how toned her legs are. She huffs. “How wet are you right now?”
My brain is hazy from my high, thoughts swimming around in a way I can’t quite place. But it’s her, too, her voice and her gaze and her body making me dizzy in a way that the pen can’t explain away completely.
I reach for the clasp on my bra and watch Paige’s stomach constrict.
“Do you want this off?” I whisper.
I watch her swallow hard. “It’s not your turn.”
“Answer the question.”
“Yes.”
Slowly, I unclasp my bra, letting it trail down my shoulders. I’m naked except for my panties, which are soaked, my nipples erect as Paige’s eyes drink me in hungrily. “Fuck, Ava,” she whispers, and the way she says my name drips with such desire that I can’t help but crawl to her. She helps me onto her lap, letting me straddle her waist as she sits up straighter. Her hands immediately span my back, worshiping my bare skin with her touch.
Her fingers run up and down my torso. I scoot forward, straddling her bare stomach, and drag my clothed clit across her toned muscle. My mouth drops open, her fingers immediately going to my hips, digging into the skin there. “We’re really gonna do this?” She asks. I grind against her experimentally again, gasping. “Do you want to?” I pant.
“Is that even a question?” Her voice is husky. Her hands come up to my breasts, the pads of her thumbs circling my nipples ever so slightly. 
“Paige,” I whisper. 
“Hang on,” she murmurs, the rest of her fingers splaying across my ribcage as she teases my nipples. 
Her eyes dart to mine. “You’re so fucking hot, you know that?” 
I huff out a laugh, balancing my hands on her bare hips, her hip bones hard underneath me. “What are you gonna do about it?” I pant out, her hands holding my hips still so that I can’t move against her.
She sits up further, her hand going to brace the back of my neck, winding into my hair. She licks her lips, her breath hot against my mouth as she brings our faces closer and closer. “Ava,” she murmurs.
“Please,” I beg, too high to be embarrassed by it.
She grins, connecting our lips slowly, our moans mixing together. She slips her tongue into my mouth immediately, hands moving to my breasts to squeeze and knead them. “Oh, fuck, just like that,” I gasp, moving my clothed core against her torso. 
Then her phone starts buzzing. “Ignore it,” she pants against my lips. It doesn’t stop. “Do you need to get that?” I ask, but she just kisses me harder. Her phone continues buzzing, and I lean back, placing a hand against her chest. “Paige,” I say. She groans, throwing her head back. “Fuck,” she mumbles, reaching for her phone. Her eyes widen. “I have to go,” she says suddenly, clambering off the bed and throwing her shirt on.
“Wha-” I start. She shakes her head, tugging her pants on. “I’m sorry. Please, come back tonight. It’ll be worth it, I promise.” “Paige, is everything okay?” I ask, concerned. “Yes, it’s fine.” She dismisses me quickly.
“If you don’t want to-”
“Ava. I want to. Fuck, you have no idea how bad I want to.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Ava.” She stops me, kissing me hard on the mouth. She looks me right in the eyes. “You’re not going to bed tonight without coming on my fingers. Are we clear?”
I gape at her. “Yeah. Yes.”
“I’ll see you back here tonight?”
“Yes.”
NOVEMBER 2021
“Coming!”
I skid out of my room, sprinting towards the banging on my front door. I open it to find a very stressed and disheveled looking Paige. Her eyes are rimmed with dark circles, hair thrown up lazily into a bun, a black sweatshirt hanging off her shoulders. She brushes past me into my apartment without an invitation. Her scent - a clean, flowery scent, maybe a bit of pine - engulfs my nose, familiar and taunting.
“We need to talk,” she says, just as I ask, “Can I help you?” I raise my eyebrows at her as I close my door. “No, come in, Paige. I’m doing great, thanks for asking.” 
“Cut the shit,” she says tiredly, glancing around.
My eyebrows shoot up even further. “Excuse you?”
Her eyes return to mine, ice cold. “You heard me.” I open my mouth, floundering for a retort, but my words escape me. 
Paige takes a deep breath, looking around again curiously. “Have I been here before?”
The question is so startling it cuts through my anger momentarily. “What?”
She places her hands on her hips, peering into my kitchen at the entrance. “This apartment. I swear I’ve…”
OCTOBER 2020
I’m giddy, almost, as I make my way back to my apartment from Paige’s place. I’d stopped at a local drugstore to pick up some stuff for volleyball; some tape for my fingers, and a bandaid for a blister on the back of my foot. When I open the door to my apartment, I assume no one is home.
Then I hear a voice. Two voices. Both of them familiar, one of them out of place. 
“I’m really glad you came over.” It’s my roommate, Audrey.
“Me, too. That was fun.” My heart drops. It’s not her. It can’t be her. But I round the corner to Audrey’s room, and her blonde hair is unmistakable as she leans down to connect her lips with Audrey’s. My eyes sting with tears as my shaking hand covers my mouth and I back away, feeling sick to my stomach.
Because she’s kissing her. She’s kissing her the same way she kissed me just a couple hours ago, and they’ve obviously just had sex. I stumble to my room, slamming the door, the knot so overwhelming I can hardly bear it. I clutch at my stomach, my room a blur from behind my tears, gasping for air.
Maybe I saw it wrong.
Maybe I imagined her here.
Or maybe… Maybe I'm just stupid. Maybe I was stupid enough to believe that the biggest player on campus, the one I’d heard had a new girl in her bed every weekend, if not every night, might actually want something to do with me besides fucking me. I choke on my own silent sobs, thinking of the way her hungry eyes took me in, hands roving over me like I was made of glass and marble, like she had the power to break me.
Because she does. Or she did. 
I steel my nerves, blinking my tears away.
My phone buzzes. A text from her. She’s home, and she wants me to come over.
Like hell I’m going.
NOVEMBER 2021
I cross my arms over my chest self-consciously, recalling the last time Paige had been here, clearing my throat. “No. Not with me, at least.”
She licks her lips, glancing back at me. “You said you needed to talk to me?” I ask slowly.
“That. Yeah. Look, I don’t know what your problem is with me-” I scoff at this incredulously.
“No, really, Avantika, I don’t. So unless you want to explain it to me-”
“I’ll pass on that, thanks.”
“Do you even give a shit about Azzi?” She demands.
“I’m sorry?” I ask. 
“She likes you, Avantika. Like, she loves having you as a friend. You saw how happy she was last night, just because you came out to a bar with us?”
I sniff, nodding. “I love her, too. It’s just that between school and practice-”
“That’s not gonna work here. She’s a student athlete, too. I know the reason you don’t hang out with her is because you don’t want to see me.” I scoff so hard at this I nearly start coughing. “Oh, you are so conceited,” I hiss, marching past her into the kitchen. She grabs my arm, hauling me back. “Tell me I’m wrong,” she says quietly.
I refuse to meet her eyes, jerking my arm away.
“Look, dude. Azzi’s my best friend. I know y’all are close. I don’t want to be the reason y’all drift apart or something.”
“You’re giving yourself a lot of credit.”
“Will you just shut the fuck up for two seconds?” She demands, her voice rising as she leers over me.
“You have a lot of fucking nerve, you know that, Bueckers?” I sneer, reaching up to push her away.
Paige catches my hands in hers, backing me into the wall and pushing me against it hard. My breathing stills, and her eyes bore into mine. When she speaks, it’s with a quiet intensity I’ve never heard from her.
“You don’t like me. I get it. I’m not your biggest fan, either. But for Azzi’s sake, please, please… let’s pretend we don’t want to kill each other. Okay?”
I let out a breath I didn’t know I had been holding and nod. “Yeah. Okay.”
Paige lets me go, backing up. I should feel angrier than I am, but my wrists almost fizzle where she’s touched me. “Her birthday’s in a couple days. We’re doing a surprise party thing after practice. She’d want you there.”
I nod again. “Yeah. Down.”
She smiles ever so slightly. “Wear something nice. I liked that top the other night.”
I laugh hollowly. “Don’t tell me what to do, Paige,” I say, but the taunt is half-hearted. 
The truth is, I miss her. The truth is, I feel bad that I iced her out. And I’m not thawing by any means.
I think I’m just tired of hating her.
220 notes · View notes
silkscreaming · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I made a volume 10 trimax vash cosplay for MAGfest and I am SO proud of how it came out :) Some process stuff below! Warning for image and text heavy.
Truthfully this cos is only about 85% complete—I’d purchased a bunch of hardware to really go in on a volume accurate version of his undersuit and belts, but simply ran out of time before the con. It was the first cosplay I’ve sewn since 2017 and the first wig styling I’ve done since 2020, so I’m not gonna beat myself up too much!
Tumblr media Tumblr media
(This is all purse hardware off Etsy and some buttons from M&J trim)
This was my first time ever making a muslin mock-up, but I knew it was going to be necessary to get the coat to lay the way I wanted it to. I really wanted to try and create proportions that elongated the legs/torso and widened the shoulders by placing the coat tail splits appropriately and raising up the shoulders with some padding. And of course arm and leg details that I’ll get to someday lol.
Tumblr media
I created two mock-ups. One of basic muslin that helped me go from an existing pre-bought pattern to something more Vash-shaped, then a second one on a slightly sturdier scrap fabric with my finalized torso proportions with padding so I could accurately pattern out the sleeves and collar.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I was tracing my pattern pieces onto newsprint and vellum as I went, so once all of those were finalized, it was time to cut my fabric! I used a heavy cotton twill from B&J fabrics and two kinds of fusible interfacing from Mood (I’m spoiled by being local to the fashion district these days). A smarter person would have bought a thinner fabric to line the inner torso with, but I did not feel like getting that complicated with my first ever muslin-drafted AND lined project, so I simply cut double of every pattern piece in order to create a lining.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Sleeves were done by interfacing and cutting into a top panel, carefully snipping at the cutout portions, ironing and fabritacking in place, and then top stitching the whole piece to the main sleeve. I later added some leather backing squares and interfacing behind the larger eyelets for aesthetic while keeping the ventilation in tact. Ideally in the future I'll also add a strip of fabric to the gun arm that creates a slight bunching effect since that sleeve is a little more ruffled over the cuff. Photos below also include three shoulder pads pinned together on each shoulder, but I ended up forgetting not using them on my final wear.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Unfortunately at this point I was approaching con time, so I started cutting some corners that I made easily replaceable for future upgrades. The coat tabs are just painted craft foam cut to the size of the buttons, tacked in place where the button pierces through the tab and where it wraps around the edge of the front panel. The straps that attach to the lapel and wrap under the arms also were just decorated with some silver trim instead of hardware, and I skipped the side button panels at his hips for pattern-making simplicity and time. They'll be added later! I'd also love to do some weathering, but don't think I can quite bring myself to riddle the coat tails with bullet holes as some people do haha.
Tumblr media
Gun arm attachment was also a quick and dirty addition, just some vinyl trim on eva foam attached with contact cement and a decorative button. First time working with contact cement somehow, but I look forward to also being able to upgrade this at a later date to a more accurate shape with the full belt attachments!
Tumblr media
I was also hoping to update the shoes a bit by making some boot covers for them and rub-n-buffing the soles to disguise the platform a bit, but I love my pick for the cleat-look that Vash has! Some good ol' Demonias in classic vash fashion :)
Last but not least: The Wig. My pride and joy.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
I got lucky enough to nab an Arda sale, I think right before Halloween, and picked up the Morpheus lace front in black, along with some extra wefts in pale blonde. (I also bought a whole separate pale blonde Morpheus wig, boldly thinking I could swing a normal trimax vash wig lol. It made for a convenient Eriks wig in the mean time.)
Since I was aiming for the end of volume 10 post-Wolfwood death look, I started by trying on the wig, roughly tracing out my hairline, then gently unweaving that portion of black in order to re-ventilate it with blonde.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
After I replaced that whole strip of plucked hair, I tried on again to finalize where I needed to ventilate to cover my own hairline, and completed my outline with both blonde and brown-black wefts (i had them on hand lol). All in all, I ventilated more than 4 square inches of blonde, and at least a solid centimeter extension of the black hairline across the whole front of the wig. Probably close to 30 hours of work in the ventilating alone, but I am a little slow since I haven't ventilated in a few years and didn't keep clear track of time.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
If there's one thing I should be used to by now about Arda wigs, they are THICK. There is zero teasing in this wig. None. Just got2b, a blowdryer, and a prayer. And a good load of bobby pins. The wig was also sadly a last minute hotel room mad dash, and I do hope to restyle it under less duress, but I do think I successfully achieved the Trimax swoop and am very proud of it! It was unbelievably windy on the walk from our hotel room to MAGfest, so the photos in the start of this post show a bit more droop than my initial styling, but I think I'll be able to touch things up next wear.
And of course, shoutout to my partner for gifting me the official glasses for Christmas :) And thank you to my roommates who barely saw me for a month and a half except for when I needed help with a hem lol.
All in all, I am unbelievably proud of this cosplay, I can't wait to put some more love into it and wear it again!
157 notes · View notes
wavesoutbeingtossed · 1 month
Text
Randomly thinking about “tolerate it” (narrator voice: it was not random) and how under the cloak of fiction it is ostensibly inspired by works like “Rebecca” (which Taylor said she read during the 2020 lockdowns I believe?), with the line of “you’re so much older and wiser” indicating that the speaker is significantly younger and inexperienced compared to the person she’s speaking to and a pretty direct reference to the plot of the book.
But I saw something somewhere once that stuck with me about how it might not be referring to relative age between the characters but chronological age as in the passage of time in a relationship. And that made me think about how in a contemporary context, it might not necessarily be referencing an actual age gap between the two characters, but rather a sarcastic or cynical response to the man’s claims that he has matured (“you’re so much older and wiser [than you were before/than you were when we met/etc.]”), which then made me think about that line in relation to the woman. And that it could be taken like, “you act like you’ve matured so much in our time together and like you know everything, while I’m supposedly still stuck as the girl I was when we first met.”
Which then made me think of the “right where you left me” of it all and did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen time went on for everyone else she won’t know it and the bit in Miss Americana where she talks about how celebrities get frozen at the age at which they got famous, and how she’s had to play catch up in a lot of ways not just in her emotional growth but kind of in general. (Which also made me wonder if she’s ever been called out for immaturity/lack of curiosity/lack of education about things in her life…)
Which then made me think about the rest of the song, and @taylortruther’s posts yesterday about “seven” and “Daylight” and the way Taylor idealizes her youth yet contrasts it with an almost sinister reality in its wake, and the line, “I sit by the door like I’m just a kid,” because the discussion raised that her relationship let her recapture some of the childlike joy and wonder she’d lost. So this line is a double-edged sword: the speaker sits by the door with childlike hope that the person will come home and cherish her, but on the darker side, feels like the child dealing with the monsters she doesn’t have names for yet and the feelings of isolation she felt as she aged.
I’m not saying the song is necessarily autobiographical; like most of the songs on folkmore, it’s clearly a fictionalized story based on media she’d consumed and created, but we know a lot of the fictional songs were infused with her own feelings and experiences and… This idea swirling in my head picked up steam and now I kind of can’t stop thinking about it. Sorry but I’m a little obsessed now.
Like maybe it might start to shed light on why she identified so strongly with the novel in the first place…
110 notes · View notes