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#i hope i can get to things in time
ash-and-starlight · 1 month
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taking the crumbs of venetian agna qel’a chewing biting gnashing on them until there aren’t even bones left and then spitting out. carnevale northern water tribe style
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andthebeanstalk · 10 months
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Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".
Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"
And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".
Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.
At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.
So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!
Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!
Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!
Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.
#hlep#original#mental health#my sympathies and empathies to anyone who has to rely on this kind of hlep to get what they need.#the people in my life who most need to see this post are my family but even if they did I sincerely doubt they would internalize it#i've tried to break thru to them so many times it makes my head hurt. so i am focusing on boundaries and on finding other forms of support#and this thing i learned today helps me validate those boundaries. the example with the milk was from my therapist.#the example with the towing company was a real thing that happened with my parents a few months ago while I was age 28. 28!#a full adult age! it is so infantilizing as a disabled adult to seek assistance and support from ableist parents.#they were real mad i was mad tho. and the spoons i spent trying to explain it were only the latest in a long line of#huge family-related spoon expenditures. distance and the ability to enforce boundaries helps. haven't talked to sisters for literally the#longest period of my whole life. people really believe that if they love you and try to help you they can do no wrong.#and those people are NOT great allies to the chronically sick folks in their lives.#you can adore someone and still fuck up and hurt them so bad. will your pride refuse to accept what you've done and lash out instead?#or will you have courage and be kind? will you learn and grow? all of us have prejudices and practices we are not yet aware of.#no one is pure. but will you be kind? will you be a good friend? will you grow? i hope i grow. i hope i always make the choice to grow.#i hope with every year i age i get better and better at making people feel the opposite of how my family's ableism has made me feel#i will see them seen and hear them heard and smile at their smiles. make them feel smart and held and strong.#just like i do now but even better! i am always learning better ways to be kind so i don't see why i would stop
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astearisms · 7 months
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fionna and cake drawings before and after watching the episodes so far. it’s nostalgic and somehow cathartic and poignant and relatable and—it just started
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mienar · 9 months
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close-ups of a commission i did a while back! 🌱
instagram | shop | commission info
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cloudybarnes · 5 months
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bad idea right?
Pairing: theodore nott x reader
Summary: after theo breaks up with you, he pledges to make things right and do anything necessary to win you back. however, you are determined to make him work if he wants to win you over again aka part two to new beginnings
Word Count: 2.3k
Masterlist
a/n: LONG AWAITED PART TWO WOOHOOOO also this could be read as a solo instead of a part two if you really wanted, but here's part one in case you wanna read that as well ;)
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✰  ✰  ✰
“Please don’t tell me you got back together with him!” Ginny groaned. She sat on the edge of your bed as Hermione braided your hair for the night. 
“No, I didn’t get back with him. I told him if he really wanted to prove it to me, then he could.” 
“So you’re thinking of getting back with him.” She said disapprovingly. Hermione chuckled from her seat in the bed behind you. She was working on doing dutch braids in your hair. 
“I think it’s fine, Gin,” Hermione said. “It’s not as if she’s going to jump back in bed with him.”
You waggled your eyebrows teasingly to Ginny. She gasped and swatted your shoulder. “That’s so not funny, (Y/N/N). Just because you think he’s sexy doesn’t mean you should get back with him.”
Theodore broke up with you very unexpectedly. He barely even had a reason for breaking up with you, which left you heartbroken and devastated. You were in bed for a few days, had a good cry, and then you were back. 
Theo had tried to mend the broken bond between your relationship, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to take him back that easily. Your ego was high, and you knew you would be kicking yourself if something like that happened again right when you took him back. 
“Don’t worry, Ginny. If he really wants me back, he’s gonna have to work for it. He knows that.”
“Alright,” Hermione said as she tied off the end of your hair. “All finished. Your hair’s gonna look so good tomorrow.”
“Theo better be drooling when you see him,” Ginny said, “if not, I’ll give him a different reason to drool.” She made a motion of punching her fists together, insinuating she would punch him in the mouth. 
You chuckled. “Hopefully there won’t be any blood drawn. I don’t think he’d really wanna go through all the trouble if it just got him a busted lip.”
“Oh no,” Ginny grinned, “it would be more than just a busted lip. I’ve got five brothers, I’m known to throw a mean punch or two.”
“Lights out girls!” The prefect yelled as she knocked on your bedroom door. 
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Alright, I’ll see you guys at breakfast. But for real, if Theo tries anything you know I’m right there for you.” 
You smiled, grateful to have a friend as awesome as her. “Yeah, Gin, I know. Thank you.” 
She smiled, “night guys.”
You two said your good nights as Hermione moved from your bed to her own. 
“What do you think he’ll do tomorrow?” You asked Hermione as she shut off the lights. You pulled the covers close to your body, waiting for her response. 
“I’m not sure,” she replied, getting comfy in her own bed. “Hopefully something sweet. He’s got a lot of making up to do if he wants to get back on our good side.”
You smiled softly, “yeah, you’re right. Night, ‘Mione.”
“Goodnight.”
✰  ✰  ✰
The next morning at breakfast, the owl dropped a letter in front of you.
“What’s that?” Ron asked, his mouth filled with food. 
Ginny slapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t talk with your mouth full. Honestly, you act like you were raised in a barn.”
“We were raised in the same house, you know.” He pointed. 
“What a shame that was,” she replied. 
You chuckled at their banter, and ripped open the seal on the letter. 
“What’s it say?” Hermione asked. 
You scanned over the words before you read them aloud. “It says,
(Y/N), 
I hope you know how much you mean to me. I was a fool to break things off with you. I only hope one day you’ll find it in your heart to forgive me. 
Forever yours,
Theo”.
“Forever yours?” Ginny squealed. “That is so romantic.” 
Hermione raised her brow quizzically. “Weren’t you the one telling her not to get back with him?”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “I can have mixed feelings about this. He breaks her heart but then he writes her a love letter. It’s got me confused, okay?” 
You chuckled. “I think it’s cute. It’s not gonna win me back, but it was an alright effort.”
“Oooh, what a burn,” Harry chuckled. “Poor bloke must’ve forgot how stubborn you are.”
You shook your head with a smile, “nah, he didn’t forget. If I know anything about Theo, he’s just getting started.”
“So, (Y/N/N),” Ron said, “do you want to get back with him or what’s going on with this?”
You shrugged. “I mean, obviously I still love him. It just sucks what he did and I don’t think he should be able to get off the hook that easily. He shouldn’t be forgiven for breaking my heart just because he writes a little letter.”
“I love you for that,” Ginny said as she nodded her head. 
“Hey, (Y/N/N).”
Looking behind you, you could see Enzo give a sheepish smile and a small wave. 
You grinned, “Hey Enzo, how are you? Sorry about yesterday, by the way, Theo’s a little crazy sometimes.”
He chuckled and awkwardly rubbed his hand through his hair. “Yeah, I’ve noticed. But, yeah, no, Theo and I are all good. He apologized last night and told me all about his plans to woo you.”
You chuckled with a roll of your eyes. “Go figure.” 
“Yeah,” he smiled, “anyway, I just wanted to come by and resume how we were before, you know, the whole break up thing, and drop off this book I think you’ll like.” 
Enzo pulls out a book from his satchel and hands it to you. 
“Coraline?” You asked as you flip it around and skim over the synopsis. 
“Yeah, it’s kind of spooky and psychological which I think you’ll really enjoy.”
You grinned up at him, “that’s perfect. Thank you, Enzo.” 
He sent a tight lipped smile, and nodded before turning away and walking back to the slytherin table. 
“I like Enzo,” Ginny said with a dreamy look on her face. 
You rolled your eyes with a smile. “Go get him then. He’s a sweetie.” 
“You guys and those Slytherin boys,” Ron shakes his head with a scoff. “Not even that cute, I’ll tell ya.”
“Oh, what?” Ginny asked sassily, “like you’re cute?”
“I think Ron’s cute,” Hermione winked at her boyfriend. 
“Ugh, barf,” Ginny said. 
The bell rang. You all stood to gather your things for first class. 
“We’ll see you guys later,” you smiled as Hermione and you walked out to your shared first class. 
“That was a pretty cute letter,” Hermione said as the two of you started walking down the hall. 
“Yeah, I think it was sweet, but like I said, he can’t win me back that eas-“
“Excuse me?” Someone tapped your shoulder. 
Stopping, you and Hermione turned to see a younger Slytherin boy, presumably a first year, standing before you. 
“Uh, yes?” You asked confused, “do you need help with something?”
“Um, Theodore says I have to carry your satchel and books for you.” The first year stood awkwardly. 
“Oh, uh, that’s okay, you really don’t have to.” You blushed, a little embarrassed that Theo would make a first year cater to you. 
“I have to.” He said adamantly. “Theodore said he’ll set me up with this hot girl I like if I carry your books for you.” 
Hermione snickered from next to you. You turned back to her, a bewildered smile on your face as you tried not to laugh.  
“Well,” you said as you handed the young boy your satchel. “I can’t be the one to stop your true love, now can I?”
The boy grinned as he held on to your satchel as well as his. 
“Theodore is crazy,” Hermione remarks as you continue walking to your next class. The boy followed behind the two of you all the way to your first period. 
As soon as your classroom came into view, you could see Theodore standing there with a bouquet of flowers in hand. He grinned a devilish thing as he saw you approach. 
“I’ll meet you in there,” Hermione said with a knowing smirk. 
You walked up to Theo. He was beautiful as ever, but even he knew that wouldn’t get him anywhere. 
“Hi (Y/N).” He smiled at you then turned to the kid. “I’ll take it from here. I’ll have my guys put in a good word with Maizy for you.”
The kid nodded his head and smiled as he ran off. 
Theo threw your satchel over his shoulder and held out the beautiful assortment of flowers towards you. “For you, to say I’m sorry for being a douchebag and an idiot and a stupid motherfucker. All in the words of Draco by the way. Never knew how much he liked us together.” 
You chuckled and grabbed the flowers out of Theo’s hand. “Thank you.”
He smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets. “So, have you thought about what I said yesterday?” 
You sighed. “Of course I’ve thought about it Theo. Just like I’ve thought about how much you broke my heart when you dumped me.”
“Okay, I deserved that.” 
You chuckled. “Yeah. Thank you for the flowers, Theo. And… I still care about you, I just need time to figure this all out. I can’t just forgive you that fast when you broke my heart, just  last week!”
Theo sighed, “I know. I know! Fuck! I know I fucked up, baby, but I am going to do everything I can to win you back. I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait as long as it takes, baby, I swear it to do. The boys are down my back yelling at me for how hard I screwed everything up. They think I’m stupid, and I think I’m stupid too for letting you go. I promise you, I will do everything it takes for you to trust me again, mi amore.”
Your eyes softened. Theo knew exactly how to make your heart soar. 
“Theo…” 
“No, baby,” he shook his head. “You take your time. I’m gonna be here whenever you decide if you want to forgive me or not. Hopefully you decide you do want to forgive me.” He chuckled awkwardly. 
You matched his awkward laugh. “Well, thanks again for the flowers. They’re very pretty.” 
Theo smiled and nodded before turning around and walking away. 
✰  ✰  ✰
Later that night, you sat in the library studying for your Herbology final. Ginny and Hermione offered to help you study, but you knew you’d be here too late to want to burden them. 
As you flipped through the pages of your herbology book, you tried your best to take down any notes that you thought would be important. 
Your stomach growled. 
“Knew that was inevitable.” 
When you looked up from your textbook, you could see Theo sheepishly smiling as he held two trays from the cafeteria. 
“What was?” You asked with a smile. You cleared some papers to make space for Theo to sit down. 
He grinned and placed the trays on the table as he took his seat next to you. 
“Knew you would forget to eat while you studied for this exam.” 
You chuckled and peered over to see what Theo brought you to eat. Ham, potatoes, and stuffing from the dining hall. 
“Thank you, Theo. That’s really sweet of you.” 
He slid a tray closer to you, and you eagerly picked up the provided fork and dug in. 
Theo chuckled as you scarfed down your food. “Pretty hungry?”
You nodded as you finished chewing. Theo smiled to himself and started to take a few bites of his potatoes. 
“You’re being awfully sweet to me, Theo.” 
“Haven't I always been sweet to you, darling?”
“Well, yes. But that was before.”
Theo sighed. “I know I screwed up royally. I’m trying to make up for my mistakes. I’m still the same boy I was just a few months ago. I had a lapse in judgment and that cost me the best thing in my life.”
You frowned. “Theo…”
“Don’t you miss me, (Y/N/N)?” Theo shifted to face you straight on. He nervously leaned forward on the table, staring into your eyes, waiting for your response. 
“…of course I miss you, Theo. How could I not? You’re everything to me, and I’m just so scared of something like that happening again.”
“(Y/N),” Theo started. He tentatively grabbed your hands in his. “I promise you, with everything in me, if you decide to take me back I will never hurt you or disappoint you ever again. You have my word mi amore.” 
You were conflicted. You miss Theo like crazy. You couldn’t help it. No matter what you said to your friends about him having to work hard for you, it tore you apart every time you saw him knowing you still weren’t together. You missed being his. 
“Okay,” you said. 
“Okay?” Theo’s face lit up. “You-you’re giving me another chance?”
“Yeah,” you softly smiled, “I miss my boy.”
Theo grinned and yanked you toward him, engulfing you in a hug—one you’ve been waiting days for. You missed him. You missed being held by him. 
You held around his neck tightly, scared to let go. You never realize how much you craved his touch when it was gone.  
Theo buried his face in your hair, breathing in your scent. “God, I’ve missed you.” 
You smiled and pulled back. Theo smiled back at you. Slowly, you leaned in and pressed your lips against his in a warm, longing kiss. Your hands rested on his cheeks, his on your waist as you kissed with all the love stored up between you. 
When he pulled away, Theo stayed close with his forehead rested against yours. “I promise you baby, I’m here for good.” 
“You better be.” 
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 4 months
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My Lawyer is going to Get Your Ass.
[First] Prev <–-> Next
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agir1ukn0w · 4 months
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sorry but snow is such a well written iconic villain and donald sutherland performs him so fucking good it's almost hilarious how i start practically foaming at the mouth every time the man opens his mouth to say something deplorable in those movies, like he's so utterly and despicably wrong about almost every crucial thing from katniss and peeta's relationship to human nature as a whole and yet the second he starts talking about how hope is the only thing stronger than fear and how you have to allow a little hope but control it so its spark doesn't grow into revolution and how it's the things we love the most that destroy us you bet your ass i am on the floor screaming crying throwing up because that is my psychotic mustache-twirling villain RIGHT THERE
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ruporas · 1 year
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asking and receiving (bonus below readmore)
[ID: A black and white, digital Trigun comic of Vash and Wolfwood. In the first panel is a close up of Wolfwood's mouth as he says, "Vash". Accompanying it is a close up shot of Vash's eye, widen and cheeks flushed. Wolfwood presses a knee against the open space between Vash's legs and says, "Tell me everything you want from me." Wolfwood's face is equally as flushed. He continues to say, "I'll give it to you. Everything." As he talks, a wide shot shows the both of them in white space. Vash is sitting, leaning a little back with both hands pressed against the surface he's sitting on. Wolfwood is in his white dress shirt, stripped of the blazer. He's still leaning in with one knee in between Vash's spread legs, his right hand touching Vash's lips and his left hand behind his back.
The shot closes in on Vash's mouth and Wolfwood's hand against it, pressing down on the lower lip as he says, "You have to ask though. Go on." His hand moves down to Vash's chin, gently holding it. With a shy and uncertain expression, Vash hesitantly asks, "Um... K... Kiss... Please?" Wolfwood, without wasting a second, leans in and kisses him and indulges by pressing deeper, eliciting a small noise of surprise from Vash.
Wolfwood moves away from Vash first and with a smile, asks, "What else?" Vash tugs on Wolfwood's left sleeve, wordlessly budging Wolfwood to give him his hand that was still behind his back. In the next panel, Vash utters, "Hold me..?" He's holding Wolfwood's left hand with his own while his right hand is reaching for his waist. Wolfwood complies, moving his left hand to Vash's shoulder and his right hand continues to touch Vash's cheek. Wolfwood asks again, "What else?"
More comfortable now, Vash leans in to kiss Wolfwood. Wolfwood catches him immediately, pressing his thumb against Vash's lips to stop him before demanding, "Hey. Ask." Vash looks back in surprise and Wolfwood meets his eye with a quiet, insistent look. They're quiet for a moment before Vash leans in again and curtly requests, "Kiss. Me." Wolfwood says "Good", smiling as he lifts his hand away, and meets Vash's lips. In the next shot, Wolfwood had adjusted his position, sitting on Vash's thigh. The hand that was once on Vash's cheek has moved its way to Vash's nape, pushing away the collar of his jacket with his pinky. His other hand continues to grip on Vash's shoulder. Still kissing, Wolfwood asks again, "What else?"
In the next shot, Vash is starting to turn, moving Wolfwood with him. Vash asks, "Let me on top of you?" Wolfwood says, "Mhm" before asking again, "What else?" The next panel shows a close look of Vash's face. He's looking down, flushed and shy just as he had been at the beginning, but now, more decisive. Vash asks, "Wolfwood... Let me have you..?" A panel of Wolfwood taking Vash's hand into his, pulling it towards his chest. The next panel shows Wolfwood lying down where Vash had laid him. Vash's hand is on Wolfwood's chest, covering the cross of his rosary while Wolfwood's hand lingers against his, loosely pressing Vash's hand in place. He looks up at Vash with a shy smile of his own, flushed cheeks. He says, "All yours."
A panel shows a close up of Vash's tender gaze before he leans down to be closer to Wolfwood. The final shot is a front view of their positions, Vash's face turned away from the viewer; Vash is leaning over Wolfwood who's lying down with his right leg draped over Vash's legs. Wolfwood's left hand holds onto Vash's left arm. With finality, Vash says, "...Mine." End ID]
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[ID: A follow up bonus comic in a looser, sketchier style. They're laying comfortably in bed when Vash asks, "What was that earlier?" referecing to the start of the previous comic. Wolfwood glances away and says, "To get you used to it. Asking. And getting what you ask for. Since you're alwasy hesitant about it." Vash's eyes widen, tight lipped. Wolfwood continues, "Knowing you, it'll be a tough habit to break..." When he says this, Vash can't help but laugh, unable to deny it. Wolfwood slowly brings a hand to Vash's cheek and continues to say, "So I'll keep trying -- whatever ways I can... to get it through your thick skull." Vash takes Wolfwood's hand with his, kissing the the palm gently. Wolfwood's eyes soften and holding onto Vash's cheek, he leans in to try for a kiss. Vash says, "Hey..." before stopping Wolfwood's lips with the back of his hand, a smug look on his face, "Ask." Wolfwood's embarrassed and with little irritation, asks, "Really?" Vash smiles, saying, "You're in need of practice too." They pause for a moment, Wolfwood looking contemplatively, before he's leaning in again, asking, "May I please kiss you?" Vash looks him in the eyes and says, "Yes." The comic ends with a "chu", indicating an off-panel kiss. End ID]
#vashwood#vash the stampede#nicholas d wolfwood#trigun#trigun maximum#it took me so long to post this even after getting clarification about the maturity warning and stuff#bc i am so shy about it. SDGMKDSGMKSD I LIKE THIS COMIC BUT IM ALSO SO LIKE... AUGHHHH....#when i posted this on twitter though it was like... a few days after ep 11? ive always had the thought circling about vash deserving of#asking for things... and getting what he wants bc he never gets both. doesn't get the opportunity to ask and hardly does he get what he want#maybe the results can go in his favor but at some point along the way he'll still lose something bc nothing can ever go perfectly for him...#and he's usually the one begging and pleading with people to not. do something. it's not even asking at that point it's just straight up#please believe me. please trust me. please don't shoot that person. please don't kill anyone. please don't do it.#and wolfwood.... it was not always this lovey dovey ok. he wouldv noticed this habit miles away and they got into a fight about it the first#time they talked about it bc wolfwood is being hypocritical too. as he always is!!!! but i think as they get more intimate#wolfwood finds ways to make vash understand. smth smth insatiable want and love and desire for wolfwood that makes it much easier to ask.#wolfwood can also just be so compliant. sometimes. which is also an issue in of itself that id love to explore at some point#but he also just enjoys giving into vash fully and completely.#bc he loves him a lot. but anyway#i hope the id is comprehendible.... please lmk if there's something wrong with how im doing it asfdgkdsmgs#ruporas art
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morallyambiguous · 2 years
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how lucky we are that, even crushed under the weight of sadness & grief, we are capable of giving love and joy to other people, and they are often more than happy to give some back.
#i think abt this alot but when i realised you don't have to be happy to bring other people joy‚ it made life so much more bearable.#for the longest time i thought happiness was something you could only spark in others if you experienced it‚ too.#i'd seen that phrase—you can't love anyone until you love yourself—and internalised it. not just with love‚ but with everything else.#i didn't feel much joy‚ love was rotted over with childhood anger & hopelessness‚ home was the body i couldn't escape from.#i didn't understand what it meant to be cared for until i was 16 & things finally started getting better.#but better just meant i didn't have an excuse anymore to be miserable‚ nothing distracting me from how i felt.#it's so easy to see people in groups‚ people laughing‚ people telling jokes & see that as your goal‚ your expected‚ your norm.#the trap 'happy people want to surround themselves w/ other happy people. they want radiant people. people for whom jokes come easy.#they don’t want someone who is always sad‚ who brings the mood down.' is an easy one to fall into. it is not true.#you can be sad‚ you can feel hopeless‚ you can feel unlovable‚ but it doesn't change the fact that you are necessary & wanted.#you do not have to be happy to spread happiness to others‚ you don't need to have to feel hopeful to inspire hope in others.#you can exist as you are & people will still love you because you are not your feelings or your perception of yourself.#i'm still learning not to see my sadness as something unforgivable i have to repent for.#but it's nice to know regardless of what im feeling i have the ability to make someone feel good‚ and what's a better feeling than that?#thank u world for making humanity so wonderful & giving. kisses#text.
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bixels · 3 months
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While I do think anon was rude, I do think it's pretty shitty to set up all this stuff you were going to add the au and then just drop it. It's disappointing. Definitely unfollowing.
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Bye.
#ask me#anon#once AGAIN.#I am not dropping anything#the au is not getting cancelled. more than likely i'm gonna take a break from it until i find motivation again#But I've been drawing the AU for half a fucking year#In that time I've only drawn 5 things that aren't mlp related#I'm getting tired and my last few posts didn't do as well as I'd hoped#And I'm not about to burn myself out on mlp au art even if I really do love making it#I'm still gonna make comics. I have a bunch of ideas.#Tulli and I still wanna do the limited run merch shop#Discord is still coming. Sunset is still coming. Sombra is still coming. I have so many ideas#But I need to do something else for my own sake. Did you know I was supposed to get the background 6 designs done by now#But I didn't because I'm TIRED#I've been keeping myself on a schedule to keep content pumping despite travel and school and family and I'm tired#what i'm getting isn't matching what i'm giving and that's nobody's fault. i'm not frustrated at anyone. a slump was bound to happen#drawing the au was fun until it become my Thing. Because when your Thing––your identity––starts to faulter#it can really make you freak out#And that's not healthy for the project or for myself. I need to find the fun again and I'm sure I will#I'm really appreciative of everyone's support in my inbox and replies it really does mean a lot especially given that about 2/3 of my#followers followed for mlp. But if you're gonna react to me saying “i'm gonna cool down on mlp art and draw my own stuff” with “i'm#disappointed in you." then Leave! I think it's good you're unfollowing#you are not obligated to stick by my side! But don't act like I'm doing you a disservice by turning my attention elsewhere#I didn't promise anyone anything and I definitely didn't say I'm breaking any promises.
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awyeahitssam · 27 days
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Time travel AU; Tomarry
Harry was seven the first time he appeared.
Tom arrived to him small and trembling, with bare blue fingers and toes. His teeth chattered noisily while hands worked insistently up and down his arms to generate some illusion of heat. It was a rather odd sight, considering it was thirty seven degrees outside and Harry was sweating a bit, himself. Not to mention the boy had just materialized in his supposedly secure hiding spot, without so much as a sound of warning or shimmer about the air. 
Or, you know, walking or running, because that’s how any other child got around.
Harry shook away the thought, pushing himself off the tree stump and letting shredded leaves fall from his grasp. 
The child was looking up, now, glancing around like a frightened rabbit, silver-grey eyes wide and wild. He couldn’t have been more than four years old, which wasn’t that much younger than Harry, but he wasn’t used to being around toddlers. In fact he had never been around anyone smaller than him for more than a few minutes - their parents always rushed them away, thanks to his reputation as the Dursleys' troubled nephew.  
Harry wouldn't let the boy freeze because his parents would be mad they'd spoken. Not that they would be angry at the boy, mind: it was Harry that always got into trouble for such things. He would be fine.
(And no, Harry wasn’t at all resentful. Really.)
Dilemma solved, Harry stepped forward resolutely and wrapped his arms around the trembling child. The boy stood stiff and unresponsive, tremors still wracking his form. Harry was a whole head taller than him; from this close he could see what appeared to be snow melting atop night-dark curls.
Harry blinked in surprise. He had thought the boy had been locked in a freezer, with how cold he was, but snow in July? 
Where was it cold this time of year? 
Sweden? 
Antarctica? 
Iceland? 
Did the boy even speak English? 
Harry knew that if you wished hard enough you could escape a place: after all, he had ended up across the schoolyard four days ago, on the school roof of all places! But maybe this boy had gone further? 
“All right?" Harry asked, going to pull away, but the boy suddenly began clinging to him, head pressing forward into his chest.
What did parents call their kids to comfort them? Aunt Petunia always said “Duddums,” or “Dudders,” but those were just nicknames. Maybe… 
“Uh, it’s okay, d-darling?”
The boy stilled again, sniffling once and looking up with narrowed eyes, as if he thought Harry was making fun of him. Maybe only adults called people that? Oh God, Harry had no idea what he was doing. This was his first hug, after all… 
“Everything’s going to be okay,” he tried again. “We’ll get you home, so you’ll be all right. With your, uh, parents and stuff. Don’t cry, please.”
Well, that was more begging than reassuring, probably, but Harry had no clue what he was doing here. He’d never had to comfort anyone a day in his life!
“I wasn’t crying!” The boy denied, shoving himself away from Harry fiercely even though he was still quivering and unnaturally pale. “And I don’t have any parents.”
“Oh. Okay,” Harry raised his hands defensively, ready to spring back if the boy lashed out again. When people got angry with him it rarely went well. “Um, I don’t either. Have parents, that is. And I didn’t mean to make you upset.” 
Harry wasn’t going to apologize for it. He had to do enough of that at the Dursley’s, and he had only been trying to help, besides. Still, he knew how frustrating it was when parents got brought up. The reminder that he was an orphan, trapped with the Dursley’s for a very long time to come, was far from comforting. 
“Just another orphan, then,” the boy said dismissively. Harry didn’t bother being offended, as it was the truth, though that tone was a bit... 
“I suppose,” Harry said. “You’re still cold, aren’t you? Let’s move out of the shade.” 
The boy squinted at him suspiciously, but nonetheless followed when Harry led the way to a nearby rock and gently pressed him to sit on it. He kneeled on the dead, brown grass and eyed blue fingers and bare toes worriedly.
“That’s not good,” he whispered. Harry reached out to the other boy slowly, as though he were a wild animal, and the child jerked away.
“What are you doing?”
“They’re blue,” Harry frowned. “Just - let me -” 
Harry took the boy's hands in his own and brought them to his mouth, breathing hot air onto them. The boy made a mildly disgusted sound and made to move back, but Harry held tight, rubbing to create heat through friction. 
He felt gross and sweaty, and frankly the cool of the boy’s hands was a relief on such a day, but mostly he was worried. He knew, vaguely, of hypothermia, and he didn't want the boy’s fingers to fall off.  
The boy glared at Harry, but didn't try to pull away again, though he watched his every movement rather suspiciously. That wasn't anything new to Harry, of course. Everybody found him suspicious. 
“Where am I?” The child demanded, after a long period of silence in which they were essentially holding hands. 
“We’re at a park in Little Whinging, Surrey.” 
“Surrey? I was just in London…”
Harry frowned back. “Are you sure? It's not snowing in London.”
“It was five minutes ago,” the boy said firmly, crossing his arms. 
“In July?” Harry murmured, incredulous. 
“I'm not lying,” the boy said coolly, though the effect of his glare was somewhat ruined by the shivers still wracking his body. “And it's February, besides.”
“I didn't say you were lying,” Harry huffed. “Just that you’re wrong. It's July 30th.”
The boy frowned, glancing from the sun high in the sky to the brown grass. He seemed at a loss, eyes flitting around as if trying to find something to refute Harry’s claim.
Harry watched him, considering. 
“My name is Harry,” he said. “What’s yours?”
The boy blinked at him. “Tom,” he said. “Tom Riddle.”
...
Harry was in the astronomy tower, legs dangling over the edge, eyes looking towards the ground. His companion arrived as suddenly as always, the only announcement of his presence the prickling at Harry’s neck.
“...Harry?” 
He turned with a tired smile, faltering only slightly when he noted what Tom was wearing. A slightly oversized version of the Hogwarts uniform hung over his small frame, a silver and green tie smoothed on his neck. 
“What’s wrong, love?” Harry asked, falling to his knees beside the bright-eyed boy. Tom wasn’t crying, but his eyes were burning with something like anger and loneliness and despair. It took Harry a moment, but when he caught sight of the bruise marring Tom’s face he felt his breath catch in his chest.
“You—who—how dare—!” Harry couldn’t seem to bring himself to coherence, so instead he shut his mouth and carefully tilted Tom’s chin to get a better look at the mark. It was large, spanning from his right cheekbone to eyebrow: a mottled, puce discoloration that never should have touched on Tom’s strong features. 
Tom allowed Harry to maneuver him without complaint, eyes wide and hungry as they took him in.
“Even at Hogwarts,” the younger boy murmured, smaller hand reaching out, brushing against Harry’s cheek. 
Harry couldn’t help the soft look that overcame him, despite the anger boiling, wrathful, in his gut at the sight of Tom’s injury. “I’m glad,” he said softly. “I’d rather not go ten months without seeing you, Tom.” 
Though truly it hadn’t been so long for Harry. After all, hadn’t he seen Lord Voldemort rise only a few months ago?
But no. This was Tom, his first friend, the first person he’d thought to protect, not a single trace of serpent in his visage.
This was Tom, with one of his eyes half swollen shut.
Harry didn’t know any healing charms, but he had taken to carrying around the salve Hermione made for his hand. He unscrewed the lid and gathered more than was probably necessary, the goop thick on his fingers. 
“Stay still for me, okay?” 
Tom tilted his head, not wary but measuring, and Harry held his gaze until the boy’s shoulders loosened and he nodded.
Once upon a time, Lord Voldemort had been capable of trust. Theoretically it was a hard thing to grasp, but in practice it just made something in Harry’s chest melt.
Harry massaged the salve in gently, careful not to get too close to Tom’s eye. He was nearly done by the time Tom gasped, jerking away.
It must have started tingling.
“That’s…” 
“Strange?” Harry smiled at him. “Yeah. Hold still, you’ll need a bit more to help with the swelling.” 
“Why do you have this?” Tom asked, even as he obediently shut his eyes and swayed forward. “Have you been getting into fights, Harry?” 
How strange, the way Tom said his name now, compared to the way he would one day, in a dark, dreary graveyard.
Harry laughed off the comparison, laughed so he didn’t retreat back to misery, and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to Tom’s forehead. To the place that he would one day mark Harry.
“Always,” he smirked, pulling back to catch sight of Tom’s wide-eyed look. He screwed the lid back on the salve, wiping his fingers on his robe and slipping it back into his pocket. “Now, are you just going to sit there gaping all night, or would you like to learn how to defend yourself with magic?” 
Tom opened his mouth, probably in protest against that gaping remark, but closed it before saying anything and nodding his assent.
Harry drew his wand, a wand Tom had only seen a handful of times, and he couldn’t help the way his muscles tensed. Harry didn’t mention it.
“Protego,” he enunciated, making the motion with his wand a bit slower than he might otherwise.
“That’s a fifth year spell,” Tom pointed out.
“One that you’ll master,” Harry agreed cheerily. “Unless you want to be tickled to death.” 
It would have been more logical to use some sort of pain as motivation - such as a stinging hex - but Harry, Tom knew, did not want to hurt him. Still, he could deal with pain. Given his age, Harry was expected to be stronger than him, to be able to harm him. And to Tom, it would be far more humiliating to be reduced to helpless giggles.
Harry knew him too well, to play on his pride like this.
Tom found he didn’t mind
It took time, but Tom did manage to conjure the shield charm. 
Only when Harry flicked his wand the spell broke through, and Tom fell to the ground in peels of laughter. Harry held the enchantment for a long moment, watching grey eyes come alive with mirth, small body wriggling, before he waved his wand in a silent counter.
“Don’t rely on your shield alone,” Harry instructed. “You may be strong, but you’re still a first year, which means somebody else is stronger.” 
As if he needed the reminder, Tom mused bitterly, hand jerking a bit as he fought the urge to prod at his tingling bruise. Harry didn’t mention his short, derisive laugh. 
“What did you do when somebody tried to hit you at the orphanage? Dodged. It doesn’t matter that you have a wand, and spells; those aren’t the only tools available to you. You have a body - use it!”
In a way Tom appreciated the way Harry never sugarcoated anything. On the other hand, mere mention of the orphanage infuriated him. If not for the fact that Harry had been bullied himself, Tom might have held a grudge. As it was he knew Harry understood him, and what he went through. Knew that he was only mentioning that rotten place to draw a comparison and not degrade him. 
He didn’t get impatient when Tom’s second attempt failed, or his third and fourth, nor did he relent in his assault. He was strangely inspirational, Tom thought. He was encouraging, but had high expectations, and he seemed used to teaching. His patience went far further than Tom’s own extended, and he had no trouble explaining things a different way when his words didn’t click for Tom. 
But then, Tom almost instinctively knew what Harry meant. They were connected, in some odd, impossible way. 
Tom’s cheeks had burned in embarrassment when he discovered that there was no such thing as soulmates, even in the magical world. He had been so sure.
“You’ve gone pale.”
Tom looked down to his fading fingers with a scowl. 
“I want to spend more than a measly two hours with you,” he said, gripping the front of Harry’s robes as though it would prevent their time from coming to an end. 
“I know, darling,” Harry murmured, running a hand through his night-dark curls. “Just remember that I'm very proud of you, all right? I care for you, and that accounts for the decades we have to spend apart.”
“Harry, have I found you yet?” Tom whispers. The question hangs in the darkness, but before Harry can formulate a response Tom vanishes from his arms. 
“Hello darling,” Harry smiles, rather taken with the blush that lights Tom’s nose and the tips of his ears. “When are we?”
“31st of December, 1940.”
“Happy birthday, then. How does it feel to be fourteen?”
“No different than thirteen, I’d imagine,” Tom replies. 
“No?” Harry’s eyes glint wickedly. “Let’s see if we can’t brighten your day. Have you ever been ice skating, Tom?”
Tom blinked at him, eyebrows pulling together. “No,” he responds. “Have you?”
“Oh, absolutely not.” Something in Tom thrills at the reckless grin Harry levels him with. “We can try together, yeah? The Black Lake should be frozen over, and I know a few spells if not. The grounds should be abandoned at this time, especially considering it’s break.”
Tom stares incredulously for a moment longer, before shaking his head. “It’s past curfew, Harry. Even if it’s a holiday, I can’t be caught outside and still be chosen as a prefect next year.”
“Let’s not get caught, then,” Harry says softly, eyes sparking. 
Tom takes him in for a moment, and lets out a long sigh - mostly for show, mind you. Being cooped up in the Common Room, staring out at the Black Lake was hardly what Tom wished to be doing, regardless of the days. “Only you, Harry Potter, could talk me into doing such a thing. You’d better be practised with cushioning charms.”
A warm hand comes to grip Tom’s, pulling him towards the door. “We won’t need them,” Harry says, sounding rather assured. “You’re ridiculously graceful, so I expect you to catch me if I start to fall.” 
Harry, it turns out, is far better at keeping his balance on the slick surface. But the older boy takes both of his hands, slowly skidding backwards, balancing him so he won’t fall. And Tom is sure that when he does, he takes Harry with him.
Tom is standing on the balcony. Harry looks him over, absently checking for injuries. 
“You look posh,” he says, surprised. The last time he had seen Tom, he was still in second hand robes, though judging by his appearance it had been nearly a year - or an abrupt growth spurt. 
“Harry,” Tom breathes out, and all of the irritation in his posture and face smooth out as he turns and catches sight of him. Something like excitement brightens the air around him, and he reaches out, catching Harry’s sleeve and drawing him close. “You’re really here.”
“I am,” Harry smiles. “Have I kept you waiting?”
“Rather,” Tom sniffs. “It’s been nearly a year. You’ve chosen a rather poor venu, though; the Malfoy’s annual Yule Ball.”
“Oh,” Harry frowned. “I suppose you’ll need to get inside and schmooze with the purebloods.” 
“That is the point in me attending,” Tom agreed lightly. “But the ball is already halfway over, and I’ve met plenty of important people already. You could join me for a dance…” 
“Inside?” Harry asked, surprised. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Tom… if anybody but you sees me, I’m afraid of what’ll happen.”
“The music’s loud enough,” Tom offers. There’s something almost hesitant in his eyes, Harry notes. A very rare thing, for Tom is most always sure of himself. “We can dance here.” 
Harry smiles, drawing Tom’s hand into his own. “All right, but don’t be mad if I step on your toes. You’ve asked for it.”
Tom’s eyes glint. A smirk curls his lips. “Oh my,” he says, stepping close as one hand finds Harry’s waist and the other intertwines their fingers. “Have we found something I’m better at?” 
Harry snorted. “You’re better at loads,” he said, stumbling a step back when Tom begins their dance. “I’ve got nearly three years on you at the moment, and I’m positive your spell knowledge well exceeds mine.”
Tom quirks a brow. “Perhaps if you studied more?”
Harry smiled. “I started studying seriously in my Fourth year. You, however, have been at it from your First.”
“Shall we duel?”
“I’d rather we never cross wands,” Harry says lightly, but his eyes have gone dark. He grips Tom a bit tighter, posture straightening. Tom’s nearly a head shorter, like this. “This is hard to do backwards.”
“Then lead.”
Tom’s words had been half-teasing, but when Harry takes control of the dance things smooth out rather quickly. He’s clearly at least practiced in this part, and twirls Tom around the balcony without much trouble.
“There you are,” Tom says into his neck, “No more stepping on me.” 
Harry huffs a laugh, one hand rising from Tom’s waist to brush through his hair. The motion is soothing, half-remembered from the last time Tom had a fever. He leans deeper into Harry. He would join them together if he could; make them intrinsic, never able to be torn apart, not even by time. 
“I miss you,” Tom admits, like it’s a dark secret. “When you’re gone, I miss you, Harry. I’ve never missed anybody else.” 
Harry’s throat tightens. His hand continues its careful strokes, and they’ve stilled in their dancing. They sway in place.
“I wish we could be like this forever,” Harry says in turn, secret traded for secret. 
Tom makes a noise in his throat, something almost needy, and clings harder, nails digging into Harry’s robe. “Don’t leave,” he demands. “Stop leaving me.” 
Harry sighs. “I can’t,” he says. “You know I can’t, Tom.”
Tom pulls back, meeting his eyes. His face is flushed from the cold, eyes gleaming with a fierce longing. Something in Harry aches in answer.
“Let’s sit,” Harry says softly. “The sky is beautiful here.”
Tom nods, but hardly lets them pull apart. They sit, limbs tangling, but instead of staring at the stars Tom stares at Harry. Harry pretends not to notice.
An hour later, only the lingering warmth of Tom’s palm proves he was ever there at all.
The next time Tom appears it’s in Harry’s time. The situation is less than ideal; it’s a Hogsmeade weekend, and there's an attack.
But Tom does not know the context. All he knows when he appears is that Harry is flushed, breathing hard, back pressed against a building. And Tom does not freeze like Harry sometimes does at the abrupt displacement, but strides towards Harry with a familiar determination.
It’s the look Lord Voldemort gets when he’s decided to kill Harry.
But instead, Tom presses him tighter against the building. Searches his face. And then he pushes their mouths together, lips moving insistently against Harry’s own, almost desperate to provoke a reaction. 
Apparently deciding to kiss and kill Harry inspires the same look.
There’s a moment when Harry wants, but then he pulls away, the rejection gentled by the way he cradles Tom’s cheek. 
“Tom, I -”
Harry's eyes flick up from Tom’s, catching a movement,  and his hands drop as though burned. He’s quick to grab Tom by the hips and switch their positions, putting his body between Tom and Voldemort as he took in the tall, serpentine Lord. 
Voldemort’s smile was a cruel, mirthless thing. “Playing house with one of my horcruxes, Harry? How… unexpected.”
Harry swallowed. So Voldemort didn’t know, then -  he didn’t remember, though Harry had figured as much. 
“Tom, stay behind me and avoid his eyes.” 
“Harry, who—”
“Please, Tom!”
Tom stepped back, but he didn’t move quickly enough to avoid a bolt of purple light.
‘Bugger,’ Harry thought, body jerking in front of Tom instinctively, taking the hit. 
The spell has no evident effect beyond freezing him in place, and a strongly thought Finite Incantatum saw him free. Still, Harry did not shift; he would use any advantage he could get, and Voldemort thinking him helpless was certainly an advantage.
“What shall I do with you now, Harry?” Voldemort hissed, a demented smile pulling his lips up. 
“Avada Ked—“
“Expelliarmus!” Harry cried. Tom’s wand flew from his hand, smacking Harry’s palm. Well, so much for that plan. “Expelliarmus!”
“Crucio.”
The spells slammed together and the magic splintered, the wand's magic dying as it recognized it was being turned against itself. 
Voldemort’s eyes burned. “How do you have that wand?”
Harry watched him carefully, backing up until his hip pressed against Tom. He pressed the yew wand into warm hands, not daring to take his eyes off Voldemort to see his expression. 
Tom inhaled sharply, and he was too clever to not connect the dots. When he spoke his voice was torn between horror and fury. “There’s no way.”
“You need to go,” Harry hissed back. “Now.” 
“We haven’t exactly figured out how to control it—”
“Tom,” Harry snapped. The other teen quieted, and Harry heard fabric shift. “Repeat after me: lapsu temporis corrigi posse.”
“Harry—”
“Do you want to die?” 
There was a long pause. A hand pressed over Harry’s spine, almost too hard to be a comfort. 
“Lapsu temporis corrigi posse.”
The air shifted, and the warm pressure of spindly fingers against Harry’s back melted away. 
Harry and Voldemort stared each other down from across a field.
“It seems,” Voldemort hissed, “we have much to discuss, Harry.”
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puppyeared · 1 year
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Design notes (+ a little Portal clownery)
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miramelindamusings · 11 months
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A bunch of sketches for the protag!kairi au! These are ideas and sketches that have been sitting on my computer that I’ve finally gotten an opportunity to clean up :) Tarzan is an interesting first world in KH and in terms of the AU I think perhaps Kairi could relate to Tarzan in someways. And I still like the idea that Kairi would still be working on the lucky charm or something happens to it that she needs to use materials from other worlds to fix/finish it. The others are more brainstorming for Riku and now Sora. I just can’t see Sora sitting doing nothing after he wakes up and so I think he would pester Leon into teaching him or, if he’s stuck in Traverse Town after the crew goes to Hollow Bastion, he’d take it upon himself to learn something about gummi ships and travel! He’d want to do as much as he can to help Kairi and save Riku! So, some sketches of him hanging out at the accessory shop and with Geppetto :)
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jeeaark · 1 month
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I wish the emperor in bg3 was as cool ( and hunky ) as you make them out to be, how you portray the gang and greygold is all so sweet 😭😭😭 but after finding out what he did to Duke stelmane... I'll just pretend your version is canon instead. I love your art!
Right, so originally I wasn't gonna abroach that topic with a 13½ ft pole, because sensitive subject, but gonna have to roll up my sleeves and acknowledge it was very much indeed a topic that Greygold had to consider and formulate their own conclusions on. Sure even though Greygold didn't find out the be-hella-mean way, there were concerned friends with mindful observations that had Greygold confronting the possibility that the Emperor and Stelmane's secret underground business practices might've had some uh...Problems!
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The conversation went a lil everywhere BUT in short-
Greygold's philosophy is to hope for the best, but always prepare for the worst.
Case in point: Greyg's team. Maybe not everyone did shitty things in their past, but they certainly had ample opportunity to do shitty things on this journey that Greygold had to veer them away from. As Greygold sees it, if their teammates can change for the better, hopefully the Emperor can and will too. Everybody is capable of being awful, but also being awesome kind, so gotta give the squid a chance.
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archersartcorner · 2 months
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I think the Bad Kids deserve to cry a lil. As a treat. IT’S CATHARTIC!!!!!!!!!!!
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clownsuu · 1 year
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Small detour of what I usually post, but I absolutely wish (other) clown the best of luck during these confusing and almost hopeless times- nobody knows how to deal with such amount of attention in such short amount of time- a blessing and a curse to behold
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