#if you're wondering why i have no new art consistently

[silantryoo]

BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — it all falls down

jang wonyoung and kim jiwon's dorm. 3:47 pm.

WARNINGS; blood, graphic depictions of physical violence, slut shaming, threats, trust issues, implied mental breakdown, effects of gaslighting, victim blaming (towards self) (4.8k)

from an early age, naoi rei knew that love wasn't for her.

she saw the decorative hearts scattered all over her elementary school as her peers fawned over their crushes. the chocolates that hid behind heart-shaped boxes taunted the young naoi as she listened to her friends' relationship woes.

everywhere she turned, love seemed to consume all those who stood in its vicinity. her parents would mindlessly hum their wedding song under their breath. her music teacher's desk littered with all her students' drawings, except for a portrait of her husband.

love consumed everyone's time. everyone's effort.

it didn't consume rei, not directly.

rei knew her parents loved her. they would go out of their way to go to her recitals and take her shopping when she needed new clothes. they even funded all of rei's (very expensive) expenses when it came to art.

they were perfect on paper, and if rei was any other person, it would've been enough.

on her fifth birthday, they had spent one out of the twenty-four hours of the day with her. the one hour consisted of eating together, and a small, thirty-minute gift session where rei had opened about ten gifts or so.

later, they would leave to stay at a hotel on their one day off. they would drop the five-year-old at her grandma's flower shop, named after rei's mother.

on christmas when she was seven years old, rei woke up in a quiet house. the silence was deafening, and all the young naoi could remember that day was the pile of presents she opened by herself.

the seven-year-old would find out later that her parents had left her home to grab a christmas breakfast.

the day she had left to go to korea, rei had been asked one question during the entire car ride before her parents had rushed off. she then boarded the plane, first class, watching as her two check-in luggages were being brought onto the airplane.

she'd never tell them, but she wanted them to miss their reservation, just this once. just so they could hug her goodbye.

somehow, rei had become a side character in her own life, watching as everyone paid no attention to her. she knew that if she were to get erased from her own family, they wouldn't even notice. it hurt her that they wouldn't have cared.

(rei's family hadn't checked up on her since she landed.)

rei was bitter when it came to love.

she hated how she couldn't appreciate her parents' efforts because of it, and how she always questioned if she was alive out of coincidence and not want.

still, rei couldn't help but become fascinated with it.

she wondered why so many people would throw logic aside for someone who had the power to break them. she couldn't comprehend how love was able to blindside so many people.

love was an emotion. one that made her fade away.

her mind was made as soon as she stepped onto korean soil. she wouldn't bother with anything that came with the emotion, not even if her neighbor was clearly in love with one of her friends.

they weren't her friends anyway. why should she care?

"you're the girl my mom was talking about. the one that lives in the apartment across from us." rei could remember seeing the tall girl glare from behind her neighbor, almost trying to shoo her away. "i'm not sure if you saw me around before. i just staying here for the summer."

her hair was so long back then.

"my name's kim gaeul."

"i'm naoi rei."

rei had friends before.

they were all boy-crazy, hiding makeup in their drawers instead of pencils to impress their crush of the month. like her parents, they had never asked about her interests or hobbies, but rei knew almost everything about them. she could read them like the back of her hand.

she knew it was gonna be the same.

(it wasn't.)

"you like hawaiian pizza, right?" jang wonyoung, whom gaeul had introduced a month ago (alongside ahn yujin), scrolled through her phone as the other two were off somewhere in the kim residence. "i ordered some, but just so you know, yujin-unnie's gonna make fun of you."

rei had mentioned it once, offhandedly a week or two ago. she didn't know how wonyoung cared enough to remember. yujin, on the other hand, would've been too busy with gaeul to care. sometimes, rei wondered if yujin even noticed her presence.

it wouldn't have been the first time someone had forgotten about her.

"what the hell?" yujin said as she dug through the boxes. the aroma of freshly baked pizza wafted the entire house. "rei ordered these, didn't she?"

"leave her alone, yujin."

yujin laughed at the younger girl with an arm wrapped around gaeul. her cheeks were bright red, teasing the japanese for liking something so obscure (in her mind, at least). rei watched the three koreans closely, wonyoung and gaeul trying to defend her from the onslaught of yujin's comments.

each comment was directed at her. each smug grin, each teasing look. yujin had remembered, and so had gaeul, and so had wonyoung.

they could see her. they wanted to see her, despite the love that they held for someone else.

love was an emotion, not a blindfold.

for once, naoi rei didn't mind being the side character, and she would do everything in her power to make them happy, to make her family happy. she knew that one day, when the time came, they wouldn't forget her.

rei hated it, being forgotten (yet somehow, she hated the thought of ripping two people apart).

rei didn't understand love, but she knew that she wished her friends would find it.

(but somehow, it also found her.)

"who's trying to break down the door?"

wonyoung looked at the shaking door, partially terrified that whoever (read: rei) would somehow knock it wide open with just her fist.

as much as she loved rei, wonyoung refused to let the japanese girl anywhere near or inside her dorm when jiwon was around. rei had yet to give the true happenings of what went down that night with jiwon, but she could tell it was bad.

finding the young kim crying in her bed was a weird role reverse at first, but wonyoung knew how it felt like. she knew how painful it was to love someone but not have them.

"it's no one."

the banging continued, somehow getting harsher and louder with every passing second.

if there was one thing that naoi rei was good at, it was persistence.

"maybe it's yuri-unnie." jiwon muttered, rubbing her now scabbed knuckles. "she did text me this morning asking if i was okay... i think she wanted me to help her jump minjeong-unnie."

jiwon had gotten a phone call earlier that morning. from what she could tell, the sun was just starting to rise, and from the way yuri's voice had sounded, the older girl had stayed up all night.

("we don't have to tell minju. i'm sure she wouldn't mind anyways.")

jiwon could only hope that yuri hadn't gone through with her ten-step plan.

"why would yuri-unnie want to jump minjeong-sunbaenim?"

the two stared at each other, blank faces as gears turned in their heads.

"i'm gonna open the door now." jiwon stated, moving towards the entrance. she needed any way out of the conversation, even if she ended up trying to talk someone out of a potential assault charge.

the door continued to rattle under rei's fist, and she prayed that whatever happened to jiwon was minor. she hoped that the girl she hurt wasn't in pain.

the door swung open, a sense of relief washing over the japanese girl as the kim stood in front of her.

love wasn't for rei.

she was the side character, the girl who set up her friends with their exes, the mastermind behind everything. she was the girl everyone ran to, and everyone forgot when the time came. she was a plot device.

"rei?"

naoi rei didn't want to be a plot device anymore. she wanted love to want her, just like she wanted her parents to love her.

the japanese girl looked at jiwon in front of her, the latter cradling her hand. her knuckles were a blush red, forming uneven marks around the peaks. rei could see the small scabs starting to form at the tips of her first two knuckles, and the swollen bump on the back of jiwon's hand.

it looked like it hurt, and somehow, in some way, it upset rei.

rei ushered the taller girl onto her bed, ignoring the questioning stares that came from the others. she'd deal with them later. jiwon was hurt, and that was rei's priority.

wonyoung stood at the doorway, eyeing the two.

"you'd think she's the one with the wrist brace and first aid kit," yujin snickered.

she wondered if rei knew what she was doing, what she was feeling. she should've by now. the glint in her eye was enough for anyone to know.

gaeul rolled her eyes at her girlfriend. "i think it's nice that she's worried."

she just hoped rei could deal with the heartbreak that came with it.

sighing, wonyoung gestured for the two older girls to come inside. she pushed aside a foreboding feeling in her chest, disregarding all the signs that something was wrong. it was just the thermostat, anyway. jiwon always liked to turn it up when she felt overwhelmed.

as the volleyball player began to shut the door, her eyes focused on the sliver of light that peaked into the hallway.

a gray sweater. y/n's gray sweater.

wonyoung swung the door open almost immediately.

"y/n."

with a small nod, y/n smiled.

something was wrong.

y/n's eyes were bloodshot red, the thin red veins popping against the whites of her eyes. her cheeks were red from crying, wonyoung deducted. if she looked any harder, wonyoung was sure to see the dried streaks of tears on the older girl's cheeks. it was a normal site of a sad y/n, at least from what wonyoung could remember.

but there was something in her eyes. something that unsettled wonyoung.

why did it seem so familiar?

"is jiwon okay?" y/n's voice cracked out, clearing her throat in embarrassment.

wonyoung nodded lightly, stepping aside for the actress to enter. with light, but sluggish steps, the taller girl watched y/n walk passed her. it was heavy with the burden of something.

wonyoung closed the door behind her. she watched the love of her life almost morph into someone that wasn't there before, a soft smile appearing on her face as she stared at jiwon.

it was her y/n (but who was the y/n before?).

"gaeul-sunbae," y/n spoke, her voice shaking slightly. she could feel jiwon's worried gaze. "can you check her hand?"

gaeul nodded, sitting beside jiwon.

y/n could feel the guilt wracking inside her body as she stared at jiwon's injured hand. every wince that the younger girl made seemed to cut her deeply, and all y/n could do was blame herself.

it was her fault for not seeing the signs, and her fault for not wanting to. all she wanted was a friend, but never at the cost of another.

"do you want to sit down?" wonyoung's voice sounded like a melody, pulling her out of her trance.

y/n stared at the taller girl. she couldn't help but wonder if the volleyball player had ever held some type of grudge against her, a vendetta to ruin her life. maybe it was something more simple, like a hatred fueled from putting her through everything that was yoo jimin.

y/n took a breath. her wonyoung wouldn't do that.

but then again, her minjeong did.

"it's okay."

y/n didn't know what was what anymore. for all she knew, she could've been letters on a screen, strung together from the most painful parts of human life.

all y/n knew was that jiwon, minju, yuri (and yena), and her parents were real. they had to be. they needed to be.

if they were, then she'd be okay. she knew she'd be okay.

wonyoung grabbed her hand gently, the pad of her thumb tugging her back to reality. back to wonyoung.

y/n was back to wonyoung, her wonyoung. the one with big, doe eyes that cried at the movie 'UP' and hid a box of random pieces of lego in her closet back when they were dating. her wonyoung who was hyunseo's older sister, who carried the jang name with a burden that only showed in the darkest of nights.

she wanted to be wonyoung's y/n again. not minjeong's, not jimin's. wonyoung's.

"please?"

y/n hoped that wonyoung was real. she hoped that this was all real.

quietly, y/n sat down, interlacing her hand with the taller girl's. she watched as wonyoung followed, a small blush on her face as she stared at her with love.

love was consuming y/n.

"what happened anyway?" yujin hummed, not noticing the tension forming in the air.

gaeul could only sigh. her girlfriend was as dense as she was pretty, and at times like these, it was unfortunate that yujin was insanely beautiful.

"did jiwon go ballistic?" yujin's eyes sparkled at the thought of wonyoung's roommate beating someone up. "minju-sunbaenim always gave me crazy vibes, especially when you and wonyoung broke up. i guess the apple doesn't fall far from the - ow!"

gaeul smiled at wonyoung, sitting innocently as if she didn't kick yujin at full force. if rei hadn't been so worried, a snicker would've slipped passed her lips.

right now was jiwon. she'd deal with idiots later.

"don't listen to her." wonyoung smiled, and y/n could feel herself floating. "unnie's just like that sometimes."

unnie.

wonyoung had never called y/n that. not before them, not during them, not after. she called gaeul unnie. same with yujin. she even called jimin unnie at one point.

y/n swallowed.

maybe she did something wrong. maybe wonyoung saw her as lesser than them. maybe this was a sign that her wonyoung had been someone else this entire time.

y/n looked at the taller girl, grinning at her with shiny eyes.

no. wonyoung wasn't jimin or minjeong.

(but what if she was?)

"jiwon-ssi..." gaeul looked at the extent of the bruises. "how hard did you punch them?"

y/n and jiwon looked at each other, both thinking of the deep cut that the younger kim had somehow administered to minjeong.

"not that hard..."

gaeul sighed. her wrist brace wasn't going to be much use against a boxer's fracture. "you need to go to the doctor for this. i'm ninety percent sure you broke it."

rei could feel her stomach drop. she had never felt more anxious in her life, and it wasn't even about her. at times like these, she wished she had her license, just to be there with the kim at the hospital. rei knew that minju wasn't gonna let her near her sister.

rei wished she was invisible, just this once.

jiwon nodded, looking at y/n who seemed deep in her thoughts once more. something was going on inside her head, jiwon just couldn't place it. all she knew was that minjeong was the cause.

a loud banging erupted throughout the room, y/n jumping back slightly. it was harder than last time, the knocking. it sounded as if someone was ramming the door open and if any of the girls listened closer, they would hear the doorknob shaking against the frame.

y/n wondered what would've happened if she didn't see minjeong last night. she understood why, but all at the cost of her friends well being. it might've not been her decision, but she had a say.

she always had a say.

y/n felt stupid.

wonyoung gave y/n's hand a light squeeze before letting go. she headed towards the door, the pounding never stopping. if she didn't open it soon, her ra would definitely get her in trouble, especially the one on duty.

as the volleyball player began to open the door, her eyes focused on the sliver of light that peaked into the hallway.

black. specifically jimin's black jacket.

wonyoung found herself stumbling backwards as the door rammed open. she closed her eyes, waiting for the fall but all she felt was the tightening of her collar, and the graze of someone's kuckles against her collarbone.

her eyes opened, and all she saw were jimin's dark irises.

"you."

jimin was angry. she was livid. everything she did ended up back to wonyoung. if it was volleyball, wonyoung was there. if it was school, wonyoung's 'fans' were in the vicinity. even when she ate, wonyoung's face would be plastered on her water bottle.

there were some upsides though.

"where's aeri?"

yujin tensed, nearly pouncing on jimin if not for gaeul's disapproving look. she wouldn't hold back, not with her friends.

gaeul knew that, and she prayed that somehow, the situation would get diffused before it escalated.

"what the-" wonyoung tried to pry jimin's grip off of her, only for it to tighten even more. "sunbaenim, are you insane?"

y/n had never felt rage consume her. she didn't know how it felt like, in all honesty. she was used to the sadness that jimin had provided her, but somehow, it tripled. it overwhelmed her, like the love that minjeong had confessed to her the day prior, or the pressure that weighed wonyoung down.

she was free from jimin, but not her effect.

"jimin." y/n stood up, her voice hoarse. "stop it."

it felt familiar to wonyoung, in a painful way.

"you're protecting her?" the veins on jimin's head popped, her face an angry red as she stared at y/n. "you're fucking kidding me. yizhuo was right?"

y/n sighed. she was getting tired of this. of everything.

"what are you talking about?"

"you're fucking wonyoung again." jimin would always be second to wonyoung, to everyone. it didn't matter how hard she loved or how much she tried. she was her father's daughter, and she was getting his punishment. "god, you just open your legs up for anyone."

y/n wanted to scream. she wanted to yell at jimin, at minjeong to leave her alone. she wanted them to get out of her mind, and to move some place else where she would never have to think about them ever again.

all y/n could feel was red.

"i could say the same for you, jimin."

wonyoung frowned. her y/n was never angry, at least not outwardly. even if she was, y/n never stooped as low as jimin.

something was wrong. something was broken.

(wonyoung hoped she was okay, whatever it was.)

jimin tightened her grip, her eyebrows furrowing. "what's that supposed to mean?"

"it means what you think it means." it was like lava, pooling out of her mouth like an unstoppable wave. "let. wonyoung. go."

the room fell silent, and wonyoung was sure that jimin loosened her grip for a split second. the ace scanned y/n's eyes, dark and angry before jimin balled up more of wonyoung's shirt.

she could feel jimin's knuckles pressing against her neck, and wonyoung fought back an urge to cough.

"is this about minjeong?" jimin rolled her eyes. she didn't understand why it was such a big deal, especially since she loved y/n, not minjeong. "is that why you're acting all bitchy all of a sudden?"

y/n flinched back, the overwhelming sadness suddenly rendering her speechless. anger helped her forget it, and although it seemed like a plus side, it felt gross.

y/n looked at wonyoung, and guilt love began to consume her once more.

"minjeong came onto me." y/n fought back tears. she was tired of trying to figure out who's side was real, and who was there for her and not her body. "everyone comes to me eventually."

yujin tensed once more. she was sick of jimin. her hot-headedness made the team walk eggshells around her, blaming everyone but herself for all her failures.

for once, she wanted to put jimin in her place.

"now..." jimin glared at wonyoung. "where's aeri, jang?"

wonyoung didn't know. she didn't even know about the whole minjeong-jimin thing until jimin had pounced on her, but if jimin didn't know where aeri was, that meant that she was safe.

wonyoung kept her mouth sealed shut, returning an angry glare.

"where the fuck is she?" wonyoung could feel jimin tightening her grip once more, her balled up fists pressing against her trachea. she had never wanted to punch someone in her life, but jimin was making it difficult.

"answer my question!" jimin's voice boomed, and wonyoung was sure everyone could hear it.

gaeul bit her tongue. she forgot how annoying yeji's jimin was.

quietly, gaeul spoke, not wanting to anger the ace any further. "she doesn't know."

"i wasn't talking to you, you slut." jimin snapped at gaeul. y/n could feel yujin tense from beside her, wonyoung shaking her head at her captain. jimin gripped wonyoung tighter, her knuckles turning white. "where is she, wonyoung? where's aeri?"

"i don't know."

"don't bullshit me." jimin grumbled, her voice low and her eyes angry. "i know you're useless, but you aren't this useless."

jimin was like wonyoung's mother in every sense. not only was she conventionally pretty, she was demanding and negligent to those around her. she used her words as a weapon, and her authority as leverage.

but wonyoung was a jang, and she knew how to get a rise out of someone.

"i said i don't know, jimin."

jimin didn't call her father dad anymore. not only had he failed as a husband, he had failed as a person. jimin didn't need to call someone that an honorific when they didn't deserve it.

but jimin wasn't her dad. she couldn't be.

"i'm your sunbae."

she was, in everyone's eyes but her own.

"then act like it."

jimin liked the pain of punching someone.

she liked the way her hand stung, akin to a spike. she liked her knuckles bright red, a physical sight that she was doing something right. jimin didn't like to think about the pain it inflicted on others, unless they deserved it.

jang wonyoung did, however. she deserved all the pain.

jimin winded her hand back, and wonyoung was ready to take the punch head on. she needed proof that jimin had hurt someone once more, a teammate. if getting rid of jimin for the rest of her school year meant a bruised cheek, then wonyoung would absolutely tank it.

wonyoung closed her eyes and a thud could be heard reverberating throughout the room.

she felt nothing.

the volleyball player opened her eyes, only to feel herself getting pulled back as she watched gaeul and rei scramble to stop yujin. she shook them off, ignoring jimin trying to push her head away.

ahn yujin, in all her glory, landed punch after punch on the ace. she was tired of all the pent up anger that she felt towards yeji jimin. she was tired of the older girl in every sense.

yujin wasn't gonna let another version of yeji hurt her friends.

the stinging of her hands got worse and worse as her anger rose. puffs of air released out of her mouth as each strike seemed stronger than the last. eventually, jimin was gonna let her guard down, and then yujin could strike the way she wanted to.

wonyoung needed to stop this, but she couldn't get physical. her father would kill her, and her mother would send her off to america if she got suspended.

she rushed back in, her eyes wide as she tried to pull yujin off. yujin was gonna get suspended, she knew it. the amount of damage she already left was enough to down a grown man.

anger was terrifying.

she saw specks of blood fly everywhere, the captain muttering curses under her breath before getting flipped over.

jimin's blooded face glistened against the light of wonyoung's room, swelling and full of cuts. her covered arms were filled with bruises, but she didn't care. right now, she wanted yujin to pay.

wrapping one hand around yujin's neck to steady her, jimin raised her fist, slamming it down onto the younger girl's face. she could feel something splatter against her skin, and it only fueled the ace further.

despite gaeul and rei's best efforts, jimin was stronger than yujin, and there was no way they could get her off, especially without wonyoung's help.

it didn't matter anymore. if wonyoung didn't do something, yujin might die.

frantically, wonyoung wrapped her arm around jimin's neck, choking her out as she pulled the older girl off yujin. she could feel jimin clawing against her arm, and wonyoung gritted her teeth, feeling blood seep out.

yujin sat up, the left side of her face tattered into shreds. gaeul rushed to her side, the captain watching as jimin struggled to get wonyoung off.

"bitch."

wonyoung looked at y/n, her eyes wide as the older girl kept jiwon behind her. she shook her head, signaling wonyoung to let go. the taller girl nodded, her arm dropping to her side as jimin fell forward, eyes red as she coughed.

she was definitely gonna get sent to america.

as the room fell quiet, jimin's coughing and yujin's heaving seemed to get louder. wonyoung could see the specks of blood littering the floor, and could feel the stinging of her arm.

a cough took their attention away from the bloodied volleyball players.

shit. the ra woke up.

"yuqi-sunbaenim."

"the cops are on their way." she shut her eyes tightly, looking at jimin. at least the girl got a good beating. too bad the others had to face a similar punishment. "don't try to talk your way out of this."

wonyoung nodded, her head hanging low.

"can we go...?" y/n asked, jiwon wincing behind her as her hand became more painful by the minute. "her hand-"

"if you two didn't get involved, then you can go."

y/n nodded, bowing slightly as jimin finally stopped coughing, a bruise on her neck.

"wonyoung?"

y/n looked at the girl in front of her, red running down her arm.

worry encapsulated her entire being, eyebrows furrowing at the sight. wonyoung was hurt, just like jiwon. yujin was hurt, just like jiwon. somehow, y/n hurt two people in one sitting, two people who didn't deserve it.

she could've done something. she should've done something.

"we're okay."

wonyoung could always see right through her.

it terrified her.

carefully, y/n lifted the volleyball player's arm. she could see the marks deep, and an angry red.

she just wanted the pain to go away, hers and wonyoung.

"i'm okay." wonyoung whispered. y/n always got worried about things she didn't need to worry about. "i'll live."

"okay." her wonyoung was real. she was sincere, and familiar. her wonyoung wouldn't hurt her.

y/n loved jang wonyoung, bleeding or not.

"text me how it goes, okay?"

wonyoung's eyes hid the stinging with a smile, quietly admiring the girl in front of her as y/n took jiwon's hand. "i will."

y/n nodded. she trusted wonyoung, just like she trusted jimin and minjeong. it couldn't backfire, not again. not with her wonyoung.

wonyoung moved aside, ignoring jimin glaring at her (she wanted to mock the other girl, powerless against the ra of the building, but that would just cause more problems).

y/n came to a halt, turning to face wonyoung.

"oh, and," a kiss on the cheek. "for... for your arm."

wonyoung didn't care. it was worth it.

"oh!" she bit her tongue, yujin cackling in the corner as gaeul scolded her not to move too much. rei gave her a thumbs up, before giving jiwon a worried gaze. "yeah, of course."

y/n nodded awkwardly, tugging jiwon's free hand.

"jiwon," y/n ignored her stare. "let's go."

the two exited the room, jiwon wincing with every swing of her arm. y/n would have to call minju once they got to the hospital.

god, minju was gonna kill everyone in that room and then her.

"did you just kiss her?"

y/n blushed as the elevator opened.

"on her cheek, ji." y/n shook her head. "you need to stop hanging out with yuri-unnie."

as jiwon entered the elevator, y/n followed her inside. the younger girl faced away from her, cradling her hand and trying to stabilize it.

for a moment, y/n relaxed. no one was looking at her. no one had to see the turmoil she had gone through. she sighed quietly, her face dropping, eyes a void of anger and frustration, of pain and hurt.

everything was consuming her.

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[just-prime]

Ahsoka is so slow I could cry. She was trained by Anakin and presumably Obi-wan and several other Jedi, and Rosario can hardly do an actual lightsaber twirl, let alone make me believe she could survive Ventress, Maul, Grievous, or Vader, survive order 66, or run in a way that looks fast. Bo-Katan moves faster, Shin moves faster, Sabine moves faster, Ezra moves faster, even Ewan's lazy twirls while walking around and not actively engaged in battle in the prequels were roughly as fast as Rosario's in an actual duel.

It's also canon that in this era, in a less prequels flashy version of standard Jedi abilities, a Jedi can leap SEVERAL feet. Luke in ROTJ- even GROGU can jump higher, while Rosario's feet are consistently glued to the ground. Her choreography and speed are so inconsistent with this established era and people keep writing it off and praising it as her fighting like a samurai now, even though it makes NO sense for her to, given who trained her. She isn't A New Hope Obi-wan, nor sad cave dwelling Obi-wan who hasn't stretched or lifted a weapon in a decade, and a 44 year old Jedi is still supposed to be in their prime.

I truly wonder if part of it is that they can't keep her lekku on properly if she does a flip, and they are shorter because they were meant to be more practical, but I'm really not seeing a character agile enough to need stunt modified lekku.

If they couldn't bring this to life in live action convincingly, it should have remained animated and each passing week demonstrates this more and more.

I'm sorry to anon into your inbox like this, but your post about the last episode has been so refreshing, and I've felt like I've been watching a completely different show than other people and don't know how they considered any of the actors ready. (Rosario has said she was training during filming). Thank you for your brutally honest take, you're spot on on all counts.

Couple of things.

A) I agree with everything you just said. Always feel free to come and rant into my asks.

B) I HAVE BEEN ANTI TINY LEKKU SINCE MANDO S2. It's laughable that we've seen cosplayers with more Rebels accurate headpieces. And of course everyone defends it with the 'it wouldn't be fair to the stunt person to have them try and do flips in that' and it's like NEWSFLASH Ahsoka isn't doing flips anyway!!! And sure, they probably stuck Rosario in a 5 week sword training class, but she's clearly not had to do any serious combat training given how clunky her fights are. And again, this was also a problem back in Mando s2, only she was in the middle of a foggy woods, so it was easier to hide the fact that she is incompetent when it comes to fight choreography.

C) "If they couldn't bring this to life in live action convincingly, it should have remained animated" Exactly. This is why every passing day I am increasingly pissed that this show killed and ate the animated Rebels sequel series that was in fucking development. Everything about this show, from Ahsoka, to Hera (hell, even TBoBF cameos like Cad Banes) prove that Disney is not willing to shell out for a decent makeup and/or CG designer. No shade to the artists that are currently working on it, they are doing their jobs to the best of their abilities. What I mean is they didn't have anyone on set that was in a high enough positions to say 'Hey, have any of you heard of contouring?' Like, just looking at the alien makeup of the OT...which somehow holds up better than state of the art Disney budget makeup. It's just fucking embarrassing at this point. There is no reason everyone should look as flat as they do, but it's no surprise that they do when mary elizabeth winstead is celebrating that her makeup only took an hour. Sure, it's understandable that you don't want to be sitting in the makeup chair every morning of hours on end, but in the end you are an actor who signed up to play an alien...Suck it up buttercup.

D) I totally understand how hard it is to be not liking this show right now. The amount of people who've told me that "well, clearly it's just not made for you" after I point out a simple fact that a character is out of character is painful. Looking at twitter after each episode as everyone seems to think Filoni is creating the second coming is painful. Because it really does feel like we're watching a different show than them.

Okay, I think I covered everything. Thank you again for your kind words and your wonderful rant!!!

#rambles #dave filoni critical #ahsoka critical #ahsoka series #ahsoka spoilers #star wars #prime responds #anti filoni

[evelmiina]

Hi Eva,

I have a fee questions regarding your wonderful work. I'm currently working on my visdev portfolio, but going a bit insane thinking about keeping my artstyle consistent if i'd ever be hired. I just looked through your background paintings and wondered how you keep your backgrounds in a consistent style. I love your nature studies too, and they look so different from your work pieces... More free and explorational. Is it difficult to keep up the habit of learning new techniques and exploring styles once you're on a job? I'm so full of ideas and feel like sometimes the idea would require a certain style/technique to be pulled off in the best way. Do you feel that too sometimes and is it restricting in a way to then keep the style of the paintings the same.

Would love to hear your thoughts on that!! :)

Hi Eekonis!

First off: don't worry! I don't think consistency is an issue... I feel like any artist no matter the level, feels like their work is all over the place. I think of consistency more like per project, rather than overall my work. 

If you're interested in vis dev, a good way to showcase your work in a portfolio and not feel overwhelmed and all over the place, is to create just one project. I saw in your portfolio the bat story exploration, that's great! Just pick one of the ideas you have. Truth is we never feel ready to do something and we postpone and ruminate, but you have to start somewhere. My friend always says, "vain tee se" (just do it) and that's really all there is. Imagine your story as a film/TV (or game, or comic, but you have to choose one), and make designs and paintings of how you imagine it. You can try searching for visual development portfolios and see what other professional artists have included in theirs, there's so many ways to go about it. From the top of my head I'm thinking Aurelien Predal, Marie Thorhauge, Scott Watanabe, Kevin Roualland, Sylvain Marc. Also art books of movies or shows you like are really useful. There's a lot of art of movies and artists, tutorials etc collected in character design references website, from all around the world.

If your own idea feels too vague or the story is not set and you get stuck on it, you could also choose an existing story like a fairytale or a novel. Try to be intentional with your pictures - you want to be clear and tell a story after all, you want people to feel like they get to know the characters and the world from just one picture, and they really want to know the full story. In your portfolio, I like your bat story explorations and it seems cool, but it's currently missing some characterization and story. It would be a good idea to illustrate story moments or character design that really shows the personality, gesture, acting. And when you create environments, make them feel lived and inhabited, give them just as strong mood and character as you would to characters. 

Consistency within a project is just about setting rules and limitations, some of them come from the ability and skill. Others are more like, what brushes to use, what are the visual goals, influences and references. You can go pretty far in breaking down how pictures are made and what makes a style. For example, why do Ghibli movies look like Ghibli? What kind of color palettes, compositions, camera angles, tools were used? How realistic/cartoony is it? There’s internal logic to everything designed, and with practise it becomes more visible.

I don't know if I intentionally try to learn new styles all the time. I'm generally just motivated by doing what I think is fun or what I want some piece to say about story, character or my own feelings and trying to do it best I can. It sounds simple but... if the goal is to do something really well, then I just do my best to learn it. There are some styles that I really love and think are amazing, but would probably take decades to pull off and I just accept that I don't really want to go that way, and I focus on things that I really want to keep at. It's always possible to switch directions, but to get good at something you have to commit to one thing at a time. 

So yes, I face my limitations all the time. I'm very familiar with feeling like, so and so would do better job, someone is always better than me for sure. Sometimes it is painful to not be able to draw or paint in a way I want. I think this probably never changes, it's just human nature. But I dunno, some people get satisfaction from making AI do their project in the style they want, but if I was able to do something in a snap of fingers, like just get the perfect style for my project, it wouldn't feel good to me. I guess I want the full experience of suffering and joy of figuring things out myself. Sometimes it will suck and hurt, but you learn more about yourself and it'll get easier to recognize what you really want to make. Then, you can always do a little bit better next time.

#evelmiinas askbox

[idyllcy]

juliet roses

word count: 3.2k

summary: it was his fault for letting you go, but your fault to leave.

You wonder how long it has been since you've met O'Connor.

The first time you meet him, you had your place of first in your department snatched from you, your name placed second after his despite the fact that he had never shown up to class and only took the exams. He's evil, you find. He was personally sent by the heavens above to steal your place as top of the art department, and it makes your blood boil. Your head hurts just thinking about him. The fangirls next to you are NOT helping his case either. Maybe you are just cursed to be annoyed by him consistently and always.

He strutted up next to you, hands in his pocket as he stares at his name, smirking down at you with a shit-eating grin.

"Oops—"

You punched him.

The principal went off on the two of you as you sat in his office, and O'Connor whistled, feet kicked up on the desk as you tuned out the rambling, looking to the window as you plan your escape. The principal really could not do much about the two best students in the department. It's not as though you're some goody two shoes and he's not some model student either. The art department should really start picking some better-behaved students.

"That's why— are you two even listening?!"

"No."

"I bet I could live if I jump out the window." O'Connor grins.

"Can I have your studio if you die?"

"I'm leaving that to Emerald."

"HE'S NOT EVEN A STUDENT—"

But that's how your day to day life with O'Connor started, and it was how it would continue without effort or change. Even when you look back on it in the future, the world was bitter and lifeless at your fingertips. He smeared colors onto your cheeks while you weren't looking, pignmented yellows staining your skin and tumeric oranges wrapped around your bicep as he throws paint at you in your shared studio, splotches of color staining every edge of the wall until the two of you are inevitably scolded by the rest of the faculty and left to create what you can. Your final project is a piece of art, and you fear that you will never find the inspiration that you once held when you were young.

There is no light in your life when you are at the end of your educational time.

You watch O'Connor paint, his fingers sliding across the canvas as he leaves the brushes, fingerprints digging into the canvas as you watch him draw his muse. White hair, purple eyes, portraits upon portraits of your shared art professor. You stay quiet, lashes fluttering as you observe O'Connor, your muse. You observe your muse, but he does not bring color into your life. You find it depressing. What world do you live in, and why must your muse not care of you the way you do of him? So, you turn around, brush sliding across the canvas as you tune out O'Connor.

Your world is colorless.

Color in your life comes quickly and simply.

It will stay that way until something changes.

You wake up one morning, pink petal in your mouth, and for that moment in time, you seem to understand.

You are the artist, but not the muse. Perhaps you will die before you ever receive your final degree. It makes you sick, and you find an idea. Perhaps you will die, but you will leave one final thing for the world. Perhaps then, you will understand why people love so fervently.

You find that pink is a fun color. Many of the other female students wear it, and when you stick your first petal onto an empty canvas, you understand why the flower has chosen to bloom in your lungs. It is a flower that means everything to certain people. You will bloom a flower so dazzling that it will have no choice but to bleed out of your lungs and onto a canvas — until you are dust and your portrait is in a gallery. Until the world crashes and burns, your painting will stand untouched. That way, perhaps some sort of a color will appear into your life.

"New materials? Where'd you find these petals from?"

You turn to face O'Connor, kicking your legs.

"This one's my trade secret." You continue painting, O'Connor stopping to stare at your painting. The man in the portrait resembles him to some degree, yet the way you paint him makes him look so foreign — almost as though he were someone unknown to you. You make him look like a man he will never see himself as. Though, as you stick one petal after the other around him, he wonders if this is what he looks like to you.

Halfway though, you push the canvas to the side, clattering as the wood crashes onto the ground and the petals stay put.

"Why are you wasting?"

"I have a better idea."

O'Connor watches as you leave the room, going back to his painting as he observes the fallen portrait of himself on the ground. He hops off his seat to adjust the painting, leaning it against the glass doors as he stares outside of them. That is perhaps some sort of Eden out there. The world is clear and beautiful, yet the two of you are stuck. He turns his head to stare at you when you return, three new buckets of paint lugged behind you as he walks over to offer help.

"Hands off. Your piece involves no glitter." You huff. O'Connor watches as you dig your fingers into the glitter, grabbing a handful as you throw it at his portrait.

You are changing. Ever so slowly, you are changing.

When you finish, you hit the canvas from the back, glitter falling to the ground as it stains your feet and dress. The ink of your side of the room becomes stained with shimmer, your paintbrush overflowing with a glisten that only the sun could rival. You paint. Even when you're coughing uncomfortably and O'Connor leaves for the night, you stay in the room, fingers forcing across the canvas as you bring O'Connor to life. If your life would depend on his actions from now on, then you would make sure that everyone would know of your demise.

You will go out stained with so much glitter that the world suffers a shortage.

O'Connor returns in the morning to you on the ground and knocked out, chest rising and falling with each breath, body surrounded by petals as he pauses to stare. A tattoo on his body glistens, and you sit up, coughing out another petal, eyes wide as O'Connor stares down at you, frozen.

"Okay, well, cat's out the bag, I've been coughing up flowers."

O'Connor smiles, lips curled upwards as he takes it out of your hand.

"Who are you in love with?"

"Bold of you to assume that I'm in love with someone." You huff. "This comes as a curse too, you know? I helped someone tattoo that once."

You do not bother looking at O'Connor, closing your eyes and knocking back out instead.

The world will not end if you take a nap.

O'Connor takes the chance to move his own portrait, white hair purple eyes hiding a portrait of you behind it, his fingers gentle against the canvas as he paints you, life slipping through his fingers as he continues. You are his final assignment before he is allowed to finally teach. He will bring you to life, even when his tattoos glow against his back and you cough your lungs out, he will turn you into a permanent memory. Perhaps one day when he is old and wrinkly, he will remember the portrait of you, lips curled upward and pointing at the joy he got to experience as a final project.

When you stir, he moves the painting of Emerald back.

You do not need to know.

You wake up, coughing out even more petals, pink stained with glitter this time, making you do a double take. Wow.

You are literally cursed at this point.

O'Connor watches you, a patch of ink on his skin dimming as you finish coughing, blood on your lips, his head spinning.

Perhaps it is rude of him, but he can not say that he would have let any other curse you like this.

"Lotus flowers?"

You cough, fishing out another petal from your throat. "Yes? I suppose so."

He stares at you, pursing his lips.

"Can I borrow some?"

"Kill yourself." You huff, sticking the new petal to the canvas, glitter smearing.

O'Connor dips his hand into the paint, skin pink as he jumps off his seat, chasing you as you scream. You race past the windows, hopping off the second floor balcony onto the tree as passing students pause to watch. It is not new, but it is not normal either. They can only wonder what has caused O'Connor to chase you around with pink paint. The top of the class with one on equal standing.

You finally escape his clutches when you slam your dorm room closed behind you, heart racing as you sigh. Perhaps you have left a trail of glitter and pink again, perhaps you have not. Perhaps the two of you are cursed. You blink as your roommate returns, ink sleeve fresh against her skin as she blinks at you crouched in the corner of the door. The two of you don't exchange words, but you offer her your forearm instead. If you are to die then you might as well die while having fun.

"I'm surprised you're letting me do this to you." You hiss at your roommate's words, needle puncturing your skin as you wince. "What's with this change? Is it because of that god-awful cough?"

"You can say it's that." You whimper. "What are you drawing?"

"Magic circles."

"You hate me." You hiss. "What are the circles for?"

"To wash the glitter off of you. It's technically telekenesis."

You go quiet, staring at the circle that starts forming from the ash.

"Would you like one on your back?"

"What do I get out of it?" You grumble.

"Wings."

"Yo..." You mumble. "It is the weekend..."

"Stay still." She grumbles. "Do you want anything else?"

"Oh, can I get a canon to blast flowers from my lungs?"

"Not possible. Not discovered yet."

You sit in silence, arm staying still even when your roommate finishes with the ink on your skin. You stare down at the pattern, closing your eyes focusing on the tattoo as your skin burns.

"Yeah, just like that." Your roommate mumbles. "Focus on the skin."

You open your eyes once the circle starts glowing properly, and the objects in the room rattle slightly as the glitter seems to pull off of your skin.

"Hands out." Your roommate mumbles, showing you the movement as you follow.

Shimmering, the glitter forms an orb, and you have an idea.

"I could glitter bomb someone."

"That's right." Your roommate winks at you as a knock comes from the door.

"I swear if the two of you are fucking, I will kick this door down."

"Oh, William! Do you happen to know where O'Connor is?"

"I'm with him. Are the two of you having an orgy or something?"

"Yeah, her head game is strong." Your roommate calls, waving her fingers to unlock the door.

"William, duck."

You throw the glitter at O'Connor, pursing your lips in amusement when he blinks, spitting out the sparkles from his mouth as he locks eyes with you.

"You."

You throw him a peace sign, jumping out your window as you pull the glitter out with you. He chases after you, tattoos on his body glowing as you cough, flurry of petals and glitter following behind you as your roommate and William blinks at the window.

"... I honestly can not tell that they are older than we are."

"Well, perhaps only with each other can they be that casual." Your roommate shrugs. "Such a shame, though. I was going to give her wings."

The two of them watches as your magic develops to create wings out of the glitter.

"...or not."

"You've just given her a weapon that could just result in the end of the world."

The world does not end when you cough out flower petals again, sticking them to the painting as the glitter sticks it to the canvas. It is beautiful, at times. O'Connor turns to face you, canvas turned away from you as he turns you to life. Perhaps you cough up flowers because he is cruel and wishes to bind you to him, or perhaps you are coughing up flowers because he does not genuinely like you.

The world is not ending, and that much is evident when you complete your piece, staring at O'Connor and the everlasting petals that surround him on the fabric.

You celebrate the finishing of the painting by retiring early, cheeks and ears warm with giddiness as you expose your back for yoru roommate to continue drawing on.

"I'd like the upper half of your arm."

"What are you unlocking for me this time?"

"You'll see." She hums.

"Oh, right. What tattoos do O'Connor have? I was drawing them earlier, and some of them looked foreign to me."

You roommate tilts her head.

"He has tattoos?"

"Yeah! On his... back..." You trail off when you realize how weird that sounds. "And..."

"What? Are you going to tell me you've been exploring each others' bodies next?"

You gape. "NO????"

"What context are you seeing him shirtless? He's not the type to just go around parading himself shirtless, you know?"

"In our studio? He takes it off because it gets stuffy from the sun occasionally." You blink. "There's no way he's been flirting with me. I know what you're thinking."

"I don't know about that..." Your roommate mumbles, taking the needle out. "You good with an elemental one?"

"What will you let me control?"

"Air." She deadpans. "Be a menace, but don't tell O'Connor I'm granting you that ability."

"Isn't it going to drain my mana?"

"Not with a threshold like yours. I'm surprised you didn't just pick the magic department with how much affinity you have for it."

"Art is much more fun."

"Yeah, it really feeds your delusions to be able to draw the ficitonal twinks who appear in your dreams, huh?"

"MY DREAM MEN ARE NOT TWINKS."

"The love of your life who's making you cough flowers up sure is."

You wince as she speeds up with the needlework.

"You're mean."

"I love you too."

The second tattoo heals much quicker, and you manage your newfound magical ability with the help of your roommate. She holds the power to grand and negate magic through art, now that you think about it. You wonder how people are supposed to get rid of tattoos. Perhaps they just use up all of their mana without replenishing it. It's a scary thought... that you honestly do not care for. You'll die before that happens to you. At the rate that you had been coughing up flowers and glitter, you might as well be one of those little glitter trolls the students had been reading on except you'll die if you spit too much out.

You've taken care to paint over your tattoos to keep them hidden for multiple reasons, one of which is to stop O'Connor from asking you more questions. The questionable gusts of wind that nearly knock over his paint supplies is enough comedy to you in your day to day life. But it is a game of cat and mouse for the two of you. Perhaps there is no cat, and the two of you are just rats in the subway in the city. There is really no chasing or courting when O'Connor could not care less for you.

Perhaps you are stuck in this never-ending hell as a result of which.

"Now that you are finished, perhaps you could aid the student council." Emerald hums. "You signed a contract."

You wince, puffing out your cheeks with a huff as you grimace at the paperwork.

"Must I really?"

"You promised."

You go through the papers, banned from leaving the room unless it is to return to your dorm, fingers sliding through the piles as you speed up the process with Emerald. The end of the year means much to everyone, only it seems to bother you to no end that you are no longer able to see O'Connor all the time. You cough up more flowers as well, a mess of edible petals on the ground as you work. The coughing slows you down, but not a significant amount. You still finish earlier than Emerald. Perhaps your beauty has just charmed him— who are you kidding. There's no way.

The two of you sort out files, and quickly, you forget what it was like previously with O'Connor, blinking at your fingers as you complete the job for the day, Emerald granting you freedom as you skip into the halls, wind pushing you into the skies as you do tricks, head spinning gleefully with each move.

"Gotcha." O'Connor wraps his arms around your waist mid-air, earning a piercing scream from your lips as the two of you crash into the ground, only cushioned by O'Connor's magic. You blink as you process the fact that you did not just die, heart still racing in your chest as O'Connor laughs from underneath you. You can just imagine the shit-eating grin that's on his face at the moment, and it only irks you. You do not understand why he had chosen to stick to you of everyone in your graduating class.

Perhaps there is just a reason why he is the way he is, and perhaps you just aid him in bringing that out.

Perhaps it is a blessing to be someone's place of comfort, even if he does not love you back.

When the day of graduation comes, you put your piece on display next to his, both of them hidden behind a cloth, and you blink at O'Connor, lips quirked up as he stares down at you with a smile.

"I wonder what Emerald will look like."

O'Connor chuckles.

"You will see."

"I wonder if he will see."

You never quite see O'Connor's final piece.

You are called in for an early graduation instead, degree received in private as you rush off to somewhere where O'Connor can not find you.

Instead, you leave him alone, stuck to stare at the portrait of the two of you facing each other, lotus petals surrounding him, juliet roses framing your face with closed eyes, traces of glitter visible in the tattoos stained onto your skin. He will not see you again. You have left, because he had been cruel to not tell you. It had always been that way. You had always been such a free soul, he was wrong to think that you would have not jumped at the opportunity to leave a place that was causing flowers to bloom in your lungs.

He scratches the tattoo on his back with more ink, freeing you from a curse that he had decided to place on you.

It was his mistake to let you go, and your mistake to leave.

#☾.fics #reader insert #o'connor x reader #fengyan x reader #lovebrush chronicles x reader #for all time x reader #lovebrush chronicles #for all time #im writing a part 2 eventually they deserve happiness. grr

[anewp0tat0]

AAAAHHHHH!! CONSIDER MY SHIT FLIPPED!! THE BLACK BUTLER LIVES! What are your thoughts on the new art style?

BRO I'm with you, flipped like that pancake I managed to throw half out the pan😩 I still can't believe. best Monday every fr.

and ooo thanks for the question, I wanna hear your thoughts after this👀 I've already said a little bit about this in the tags of some other posts, as well as touched on it in my master post of the crew, but I suppose I may give a big final answer(for now, from this teaser).

judging the art alone, not the fact that we get a new anime or anything exciting like that, just the art alone... it's very pretty!

yea this is very pretty. the kid looks great, small and good, and his hair looks feathery and neat, so I approve. I think they nailed his general proportions, I think they'll do a great job at keeping them consistent during episodes! the image to the right does looks a tiny bit like a 3d asset, which is a bit jarring compared to the previous anime style, but I'm flexible towards this change. even if he looks like a video game cutscene character, I usually love cutscenes!!

but here's the drama I'm sure you're here for. yes, unfortunately, there are some wee things that I don't love as much🤏

the first thing, it really doesn't matter and I should shut up about it now... but YOU asked so ajdjfksksk why did they have to shrink sebs jaw cmon my favorite art of him ever was during the Greenwitch arc so don't tell me I'll NEVER be able to see that style of him animated😫 I just like prominent features man. I know he's meant to be pretty but but but....

ah okay. heres the main thing that I think most people may agree with.

these are two screenies of sebster from the teaser. honestly, as ☆luxurious☆ as his lashes are, I'm not a fan of the left image. the airbrush on his hair feels a tad overdone. I love the attention to detail, especially in the one on the right, it shows a lot of love! but there's just something about it that's a bit off for me.

and I think after 24 hours I've finally figured it out: it's the colors.

the realization started to hit me when I saw my favorite edit so far here by @ashxketchum. the colors have been edited to be much more saturated and warm. and I think this is exactly what is missing here.

I even tried my own hand at it, and yea personally, I think slapping a saturation, tint, and just a BIT of contrast on the whole thing can do numbers on it.

already I like it(no I'm not just praising my own work, it's not the best edit out there I did it in 30 secs). I think the reason for this is because the background is very rich in contrast and warm tones, so the characters(particularly sebastian who is all black) stand out when they are muddy and low contrast. I love stylistically when contrast is high, but that's just a personal thing, and I shouldn't hold a studio to those standards.

I tried it for the poster too though, which again I felt was a bit off. official art has never been the most top tear, and the poster is GOOD, the background is awesome and the two peeps looks amazing. but my problem with it was clear once I did another color edit.

(edit on the right)

again, I feel like everything was very muted in the left original, not to mention a tad monochromatic. I really think a kick of contrast and hue could do wonders.

BUT. I know that at the end of the day, it's not a big deal. I don't really care. would it make my day or whole year if they slapped a color filter on it, or continued to work on the color grading of the scenes? probably yea! but my opinion isn't obsolete, and most of all, I look forward to and respect the artists decisions.

so no I'm not "fixing" the art😅😒.

and finally, I think this is awesome:

(I had forgotten but this gif is edited by @kilruas from this post)

GORGEOUS. could it turn some people off cause it's mostly cg? maybe. idc though. gorgeous. gimme some of that beverage.

sorry for the rant, hope it's what you wanted! I think that's everything... I like it 85%!

#my asks #thanks for the ask bud! #kuroshitsuji #black butler #kuroshitsuji 2024 #2024 anime #my text posts

[itsgxsly]

BREATHTAKING

Summary: Clearly, Pierre has something more beautiful to look at than the paintings and works in the museum.

Pairing: pierre gasly x reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 831

“We can always repeat something that we have already done” Pierre suggested due to the lack of ideas. You pouted at his lack of collaboration.

“Oh come on, there has to be something new we can do. There are thousands of things in the world, it is impossible for any of them to be suitable for the date. It's good to change the routine sometimes” you complained.

You and Pierre had a tradition of going on a mandatory date at least once a week. The busy life that your boyfriend had due to his career in f1, and your studies taking up a lot of your time, you both agreed that you couldn't let that lack of time deteriorate your relationship, so you had invented that routine tradition that now, after a few years dating, you met each and every time.

That is why you were in the current situation. Normally you always did the same thing, a romantic dinner in a restaurant and a walk, or if you felt lazy, fast food and hugs on the sofa in your apartment were enough. But this time you wanted something different, even if it was a simple change of scenery, you thought that maybe it would suit you. And Pierre was more than willing to do anything if it made you happy, which led to a long conversation about what the date might consist of. But you were not able to agree on any ideas that you offered.

Everything was too tired, or cheesy, or expensive (although Pierre insisted that you didn't have to think about money) and more complaints. Until finally, after a well-deserved rest to clear your mind and analyze other ideas, Pierre's face lit up when he remembered something you had said a long time ago. So excited he ran to the kitchen where you were looking at your phone and stood in front of you.

"Let's go to the museum" he proposed.

"Museum? I thought those things bored you” you had always loved art, the delicacy and work put into each work attracted you greatly. But you knew it wasn't Pierre's kind of environment, so you didn't think of the idea.

"Mon ange, I don't care exactly where we go as long as you're there" Pierre didn't recognize himself in those corny words. But he couldn't help those things when it came to you.

Soon you were both dressed up and on your way to one of Milan's famous museums. Upon arrival, you queued for a while and finally entered the peaceful place. It was a Tuesday, so it wasn't very crowded and seriously, you could swear you were in the best place in the world. The beauty and delicacy of each painting and sculpture seemed to you the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

"This is beautiful. I think I could watch it all forever” you said in wonder.

"Yes, I think that too" said Pierre. But his gaze was not on the exhibited masterpieces. It was in you.

Since you had entered the museum, Pierre had not been able to take his eyes off you for a single second. He was completely dazzled by your captivating beauty. Even surrounded by thousands of works of art, you seemed to glow in the midst of them all, so ethereal. He swore if he looked at you for a few more minutes, you would end up taking his breath away.

You continued walking through the museum with your hands intertwined without separating at any time. You kept looking at each work and Pierre kept looking at you. What you thought was an hour later, you were exhausted from the walk, so you ended the appointment at the museum and left there to go home. You got to where the car was parked and before you could open the door, Pierre gently tugged on your arm and turned you so that you were facing him against his chest. He hugged your waist with his arms and you hugged his neck with yours. You had to raise your head to see him since he was taller than you.

“I loved the date. We should repeat it at some point” he spoke. His tone of voice was not very high since you were quite close.

“Mmm, I thought you were bored. I haven't seen you pay much attention to the paintings” you mocked him. You knew that he had been looking at you almost the whole time.

"Well, you can't blame me. I had something much more beautiful to look at right in front of me” now he was the one who boasted. You blushed under his intense gaze on your face and to avoid embarrassment you pulled him towards you to kiss him. You enjoyed his soft kiss while it was sunset behind your back. Pierre would definitely repeat that date as many times as necessary just to be able to look at you for the rest of his life.

EXTRA

Liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, and 629,845 others

pierregasly I don’t need anything else🤍

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yukitsunoda0511 and what about me? I feel betrayed

yourusername love you❤️

charles_leclerc I think my invitation has been lost🙂

yourusername no, it hasn't🙃

wags.news all i need is a museum date with pierre😩

#formula 1 #f1 weekend #f1 2022 #pg10 #pierre gasly #pierre gasly x reader #f1 fandom #pierre gasly x oc #pierre gasly x y/n #pierre gasly x you #pierre gasly fluff #pierre gasly blurb #pierre gasly imagine #fluff #museum #date #pierre #gasly

[ravixen]

Hi aeris! I like your writing so much, I feel like I actually might have read everything on your blog hahaha! I was wondering, could you maybe write a youtuber!au for dino? Hope everything is going well for you :)

youtuber!chan

➔ au!ramble || request || youtuber!au

➔ warnings: none || 1056 words ➔ notes: fluff, slice of life ; oh, that's impressive! i have a lot of writing on this blog haha sorry for the wait! despite typing this up in january, i only post one new thing a week, so your request didn't get published until now. it makes for a more consistent schedule, but it definitely makes the wait longer </3 anyway, reblog if you liked!

i know including dino's danceology is such a cop-out, but he's so passionate about it that i feel like i have to include it. so his main content is a self-choreographed dance video that he uploads once a month

but it's also kind of a vlog channel where he challenges himself to learn from different dancers! he visits various studios and signs up for whatever class sounds interesting to him. to make it fun, he'll ask the person behind the desk to choose a random number

regardless of his familiarity, he gives his all and has so much fun doing it. occasionally, he'll come up to a classmate and have a quick chat with them about what got them into dance. viewers love hearing the stories

one person got into dance to get them out of the house. another is doing it because it was their best friend's dying wish. another has kids who are taking a dance class in the same building at the same time. someone else wants to impress their partner at their wedding next year. he just loves knowing that art can bring so many people together, regardless of the reasons

eventually, his channel does get popular. cute guy, infectious energy, fiery passion? it's just a recipe for success. unfortunately, this means that he does get recognized more often, and he likes the attention, but it does make classes harder for him

too many eyes on him, even if he's trying to stand in the back and hide his face with his hat pulled low. people edge away from him, not wanting to be compared to the talented dancer, intentional or otherwise

and the worst part of it is that, though people have been supportive about his dancing journey, he feels like he's That Guy now. the one who can be (and needs to be) perfect at whatever he does no matter what. he feels like he doesn't have the space or grace to fail in front of everyone anymore

so he announces a break on his channel and returns to his roots. it takes a while to find you because you've lost touch over the years, but when your friend says that you're at the childhood dance studio, he's elated. even after all these years, you're still there

only to find out that you're not there to dance...you work behind the scenes now, cleaning up the studios between classes because you've lost your passion for the art

he can't believe his ears when you tell him. you? you of all people? you were one of his best partners! you were amazing! a gem in the making!

"yeah, well." you give a bitter laugh, putting the mops back in the closet. "even glass shines under the light."

but your reasons run deeper than that. you want to get back into it — why else would you work part-time here, trying to surround yourself with people who have motivation to spare?

he decides that he's not going to trouble you with his own problems. instead, he's going to take your hand and jump headfirst into the dance world again

he doesn't start slow. the first place he takes you is a breaking competition/jam in the next town. it's noisy, it's packed, and honestly — it's perfect because everyone's losing their minds over the participants' threads and footwork

"you're lucky i didn't secretly sign you up!" he yells into your ear, one hand hovering around the small of your back and the other holding a plastic cup. the contents threaten to spill as you shoulder through the crowd for a better look

it's almost a complete 180 when, two days later, you're in the rickety chairs of your elementary school auditorium, watching kids stumble through a ballet recital. you lean over to snicker to chan, "remember when we got the tree parts?"

the parent next to you, phone up to record their baby, glares at the two of you until you shrink in your seats

his break was supposed to be two weeks long, but he also got a part-time job at your old dance studio and the weeks stretch by before he knows it. it's fun, though. catching up after all this time, turning on the music and being silly when you're supposed to be wiping down floors, racing to the convenience store to see who buys their favorite ice cream first

it's all — fine. until you're at some tango showcase and one of the audience members recognizes chan. honestly, he's surprised he's gone this far without being recognized (as conceited as that sounds). the stranger asks him if he's planning to go back to youtube at all, and you look at him, wide eyed, because he's never mentioned a channel this entire time? much less one that has so many subscribers that people are approaching him in public?

"i don't know," he laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "i've been busy."

but now that the topic has been brought up, the tables have turned. you binge a ton of his videos, often in front of him, and he's cringing at some of his early ones. back when he was too excited and didn't know how to edit. "it's character development!" you're yelling at him as you run away, phone on max volume

you're the one trying to get him to dance more, and it becomes this weird dynamic of pushing each other to get back into dancing and realizing that hey. that energy was inside me all along — i just forgot how to get it out without having someone here

because it's definitely possible to hone your craft by yourself, but finding yourself in community makes it so much more fun

"let's start off slow," you tell him. so he's just doing short dance challenges with you and posting them, which surprises viewers because

1) he's back after nearly three months of no communication

2) he's posting a lot and sporadically, unlike his previous strict schedule

3) WHO IS THIS GUEST??

you're introduced as his friend, but the way he laughs with you at the end of takes, hand clinging onto yours after you high five, has them thinking it's...something. for now, they'll drop eye emojis in the chat and appreciate that their dancing king is back

#caratwritersclub #seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #chan scenarios #dino scenarios #dino fluff #chan fluff #g: svt #m: chan #t: auramble #s: request #hyunyin #ravixen #youtuberau

[ozwuv]

I would like to draw more but I find myself overthinking it and then losing motivation. So, I was wondering if you ever had a similar issue and if so what do you do to stay motivated and not overthink?

Really good question actually!

What nipped the overthinking for me was just completely dropping the planning stage of drawing. I don't put much thought into composition, colors, etc. I don't have any solid ideas of how I want things to look before I begin. Obligatory disclaimer that this is from my perspective as a hobbyist and therefore not practical for an aspiring professional, & this is gonna sound like BS but hear me out lol

Most of the time the only things I have in mind are 1. What character(s) I want to draw and 2. A vague idea of the atmosphere I want the finished product to convey. And "finished" can mean a lot of things -- a messy sketch can be finished, a fully rendered piece I spent an entire day could be finished. A common pitfall people fall into is having an impractically rigid idea of what a "finished" drawing is and subsequently what they want their art to look like, all the bells and whistles etc, when realistically your art is never going to look exactly how it did in your head. But is that really such a bad thing?

I guess the overarching concept is to just fall in love with the process and enjoy the journey rather than the destination. This obviously sounds easier than it is in reality, but imo people focus way too hard on what they're producing rather than how and why they're producing it. Other people loving what you draw and praising it is wonderful, but if you don't enjoy the process, what was the point? Drawing (and I would venture to say most other forms of art in general) becomes a chore with that mindset applied.

A lack of planning may very well mean you wind up drawing a lot of stuff that doesn't seem interesting, maybe haphazard, difficult to parse, etc, but this is all your perception. It's cliché, but there is always going to someone out there that adores something you think looks like a dumpster fire, and that applies to the things you draw too. Over time, just doing whatever you want and enjoying the process has this trickle effect that will improve your output. In the same vein, constantly overthinking will also inevitably trickles into your output. You can often tell when someone enjoyed the process of something they drew vs when it was just a slog for them to get through (at least relative to their other works).

I would venture to say that you could spend your entire life studying and could be the most technically knowledgeable person about illustration ever in the world, but if you don't genuinely love the process, your work will never be as good as it could be if you did.

If you finish something and think it looks like shit that's always a bummer, but if you had fun with it, I think that was time worth spending. I've said this before, but most of the time I only truly dislike something I've drawn when I spent any part of the process frustrated with how it was going. It's counterintuitive, but I really think that placing so much emphasis in how you want the finished product to look is what ultimately is going to make it look like shit to you.

All that being said, once you do get past that initial overthinking phase, you can start to get more specific with planning and whatnot. The key is to just stop holding onto the idea of what you want and allowing things to develop as you go. Your art will naturally improve this way since you're actually enjoying it. To me, that's what people mean when they say they can tell something was made with love.

Side note: Let go of the need to be consistent/have a developed style. Just let yourself be inconsistent. You don't need strict consistency unless you're like an animator who needs to keep characters on-model or something. Experimenting is not only way more fun, but leads to improvement and discovering new things to implement into your process/style at large.

Tl;dr just get a lil silly w it :3c

#hope this made sense i feel like it sounds like mumbo jumbo but it works for meee #yip yap #if you saw those typos no you didnt

[themuliama]

I've been drawing for a very VERY long time. I've been inspired by artists on the internet and I've been looking at a LOT of beginner drawing tutorials on YouTube. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't improve as much as I wanted. My characters looked weird, and my coloring and lines were horrible…

But if like me you've watched HOURS of drawing tutorials and have been practicing for DAYS, but feel frustrated in your improvement anyways, you're just like me! And do you know why? Because like me, you've never worked on the drawing fundamentals!

Don't worry anybody can learn about the fundamentals with enough practice, effort, and most importantly, good information!!

So if you've been drawing for a long time and you think that you didn't improve enough, or if you want to start drawing but you've never known where to start, this is the perfect article to guide you in your art journey!

Keep reading and let's start to draw seriously together!! :D

The joy of starting!

Drawing is an excellent way of self-expression, a way to become more creative, and a way to see the world from a whole new perspective! You'll be so proud and happy to share your ideas and create beautiful drawings! And you'll learn SO MUCH about the world and the objects around you!

But if there is one thing that you have to keep in mind during this journey, is that everyone starts as a newbie! So don't be harsh on yourself and give yourself some time to learn and practice the things that will make you improve! Being an artist is a wonderful journey! Take some pleasure to live it!

Something else to keep in mind is that material is not an excuse! A pen and some printing paper are more than enough to start! The most important is to actually draw consistently!  Anecdote: I started to draw in my notebook during French class in middle school. (Don't be like me though listen during class)

So now you should be asking…

But what are the fundamentals I need to learn?

And you're right to ask this question! Just drawing every day isn't enough to improve your competence. You'll need to draw things that will make you improve! 

Having a good drawing foundation is important to build a good drawing style!! 

So here are the fundamentals you need to learn as a beginner:

Perspective

That is what will make your line on the paper feel 3D!

Here you'll need to learn about what makes an object feel like it has volume, how something farther away would look like, etc.

I have two exercises for this fundamentals!  The first one is to actually draw objects! Draw cubes, cylinders, and spheres in any direction you can think of!

Here is what it looks like when I do this exercise!

The second exercise is to draw these objects in an environment!  Horizon lines and vanishing points will be your friends here.

Here this will make it clear to you!

Construction

Construction is the ability to build new things with the simple shapes we saw earlier! You'll try to understand how objects would connect together. 

With this skill mastered, you will be able to draw ANYTHING! Because all things and objects can be broken down into simple shapes and volumes! 

Looking at references can be a good idea here! Look at a simple object and try to draw it with the volumes!

This is the way I practice construction

Gesture

I only have one thing to say here: GESTURE DRAWING! What is gesture drawing? Is an exercise! The goal of this exercise? To draw people with a time limit! You'll draw a pose in one to two minutes at first! Your goal is to get the GESTURE of the character in your drawing.

There are a few websites for doing gesture drawing! You just have to select the time and the type of images you want and draw! One of my favorite websites is Quickposes! But I'm sure you could find another one if you search a bit on the internet!

Now you know what to practice! Practice these fundamentals consistently and you'll see your drawing skills improving! 

Of course, you don't have to just draw spheres, cubes, and simple people you can draw things you want to draw! Just draw from good references!

Another thing that can help you with improving your art is…

Drawing challenges!

They're fun, put you out of your comfort zone, and make you draw things you would have never drawn otherwise! Isn't that amazing?

That's why it's such a good idea to participate in art challenges! Plus, having other people participating in the same challenge can help you boost your motivation!!

There is plenty of art challenges on the internet, but the one you should do to start drawing is certainly Marc Brunet's 30 days art challenge!  An art challenge that will help you start drawing in a month! You will practice the fundamentals and you'll see the improvement by the end of it! 

Maybe should I do this challenge? (Btw Marc Brunet's channel is an excellent place to learn from! Go look at some videos!)

In conclusion

You now have all you need to start drawing! You know that you'll need dedication and persistence, you know about the fundamentals you need to practice! You also have a perfect challenge to start drawing! Don't forget that drawing is an enjoyable journey! Don't overdo yourself, practice consistently, and be curious!

Feel free to ask questions or share some drawings so we can all track our progress!

One of the most essential pieces of advice I'll give you in this post is to find fun in the process :D

#beginner artist #art #learn art #start to draw #Learn drawing

[olderthannetfic]

https://olderthannetfic.tumblr.com/post/732339422576640000/im-an-artist-in-fandom-and-im-popular-i-like-to

Social currency helps, sure, but it's also a matter of familiarity. People have pointed out in the replies that not everyone has a lot of patience for entertaining anon asks. Have you considered making a second account for all the chitchat you don't want connected to your main?

If leading a double life sounds like too much to keep track, maybe try it when you get into a new fandom and start fresh. Put your old account on hiatus. (Or don't.) Give yourself a new moniker, reblog other people's stuff, and gush all the commentary you want. Suppress the urge to share your own drawings and start making friends without the benefit of your art skills. If you're less concerned about genuine friendship than you are about getting doxxed, do your best to make sure there's no identifying features in your bio or anywhere else.

I did something similar, when I took a break from tumblr. I'm not actively hiding the fact that I draw, but I also haven't been drawing, so I don't present as an artist in the fandom I'm in now. Occasionally I do find myself thinking I'd have more mutuals if people knew what I could make. Even though I'm not in a hurry to garner extra attention—I don't have the time to consistently keep up with social media nowadays—I do wonder how our interactions might differ if they knew. Or sometimes I'll get nostalgic for my experiences in a different fandom. Comparisons are sort of apples and oranges, though, with all the differing factors involved. I no longer blog as frequently, so being friendly without being friends these days suits me just fine.

If you do go down this route, I hope you won't be discouraged by the effort required to put yourself out there. It takes time to establish a rapport, people often have their own tightknit groups, and there are lots of reasons why someone might not respond warmly or at all. If a stranger is willing to engage from the outset, great! If not, don't take it to heart.

--

[yellowflowerbub]

you? card making?

♡ Feb. 13th ♡

♡ Day 4 of 5 ♡

꒷︶ ̇ ̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟ ̇ ︶꒷

summary. you’re situated at your desk when megumi and his art supplies take a seat in front of you

wordcount. 0.8k+ (kind of unfinished)

pairing(s). megumi x reader

tag(s). newstudent! reader, megumi is a little shit, fluff, card making, flirting, teasing (?)

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The classroom is small. So small you wouldn't have believed it to be one if not for four desks seemingly arbitrary scattered around the dust spotted floor. The rest of the room itself is undecorated; standard pearly white walls partnered with a bare bulletin board were really the only things that occupy the room. No teacher's desk. No chalk board. No individuality from any of the other insanitary rooms in the building.

The full bag of binders and an array of colored led pencils dangle from your shoulder as you sit in the desk furthest from the front of the room. You wish to draw as little attention to yourself as possible. Having a bad reputation in a four student classroom would have you socially exiled from everyone within a mile of the classroom. A seemingly impossible task but do-able enough that you’d avoid it at all costs, even if that meant squinting to see if something was put on the board.

You pull paper from your bag and plant it on your desk, deciding to sketch whatever comes to mind in the margins to pass time after being early to class by a few minutes. Before you can finish any form of art, the classroom door knob rattles and twists forcibly. A boy who you imagine is another student emerges from the now open door and trudges through the frame. He has on a uniform similar to your own, the same deep navy blue long-sleeve shirt with a pair of cream colored buttons to support its quaint collar. To your surprise he sat himself down on the desk in front of you. If not for the desks being diagonal from each other, his messy and near pointy bed head hair would've blocked your view of the bulletin board.

You almost felt a bit offended that he hadn't spoken to you upon his arrival yet you hadn't said anything to him either. You were new, it would’ve been expected of you to announce your presence or greet him first, no matter the severity of the frown he wears. Or how hard he glares.

Curious, your torso falls over the side of your desk, barely enough to catch a glimpse of his collection of school supplies which consists of a few sheets of lined paper, an accordion style folder, and a clear cased, blue ink filled pen. His pen is loud, it scratches the paper rather than drags along it prompting an irritable dry noise. It seems he doesn’t mind as much as you do for his eyes are affixed to the characters he writes along his paper, however he’s definitely noticed you staring.

“What are you doing?” His voice is like silk however the tone in which he speaks is commanding enough to overpower the satiny of his words. 

“Sorry,” you were really but he looked doubtful, “I was just wondering.”

With his back still facing yours, he grumbles.

A sigh, "I'm working on cards." Megumi's not sure what internal loose screws made his mouth fix to respond to you but he’d already spit out his answer before he realized he spoke. 

Cards? You think. 

Right. Valentines day.

A look at the assortment of pre-folded cardstock paper showed a few small doodles hiding by its corner. They look like they'd been drawn by a child no older than eight. 

“That’s cute.”

His head whips back to his own creations, in a few quiet deep breaths he utters, “Thank.. you.”

“Who are they for?” You're not sure why but you suddenly yearn for a conversation with him. To intake his soft voice for another moment, even a brief one. He’s alluring in a fashion that makes your heart and thoughts race, his presence makes your cheeks sear, and the passionate and intimate way he rants on about his cards he’ll soon give away is incomparable.

“It’s really sweet that you’re spending so much time making this stuff. Like, the card making in itself is thoughtful but I think it’s admirable to actually try.”

“Are you hitting on me or something?”

“No,” you weren’t entirely sure if you were or not. Maybe your mouth kept running out of desperation but it hadn’t felt that way absolutely, “I just want to give you a compliment on your art and crafts stuff here.”

He scoffs, “This is barely ‘arts and crafts.’”

“Card making is definitely arts and crafts. You’re crafting a card.”

“All I did was fold it.” 

Yes but, “That still qualifies as arts and crafts.”

“Take a shot everytime you say crafts.”

You honestly laugh, he’s funny, “You’re funny, y’know.”

“I’ve been told.” You hear the smile in his tone. You wish you could see it.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

a/n: i wasn’t sure how to end this so this is the best i’ve got. Ill be back if i think of something

Feedback and Reblogs Are Appreciated!!

#megumi x reader #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi scenarios #megumi x gender neutral reader #megumi x you #megumi x y/n #poc friendly #as usual

[sherifftillman]

Heart of a Lion

alternate AO3 link

Pairing: Jonathan Byers x Reader (no pronouns/gendered terms)

Genre: fluff

Summary: Making friends with someone to get closer to the not-so-secret admirer who's been leaving notes in your locker yields far more interesting results.

Word count: 3513

Good morning!

The clouds may have cast a dark and gloomy curtain over Hawkins today, but the presence of your sunny disposition still radiates the entire school. I look forward to basking in your light in class today.

Yours, always,

The Cowardly Lion

You read the note that had been folded up into your locker door and grin, holding it close to your chest and breathing deeply. While the daily love letters cause split opinions among your friend groups, with some finding them creepy and some finding them romantic, you yourself agree with the latter. 

It had started with a Valentine’s Day card, way back at the start of the year. It had been left on your desk at homeroom. A pink card adorned with a cute hand-drawn cartoon lion holding a heart. Inside the heart was written “I’d be lion if I said you weren’t cute!” A lot of your classmates had turned their noses up at it when you revealed it, but you proudly slipped it beneath the clear cover of your binder and kept it there for the rest of the school year. Now it lives in its own box in your bedroom, along with all the notes you’ve received ever since… And some notes and doodles of your own. See, what your “secret” admirer doesn’t know, is that you know who it is.

You just wonder why someone with as much bravado as Steve Harrington needs to sneak around putting secret notes in your locker, rather than talking to you directly. It’s not like you’re unpopular. Maybe it’s because you don’t actually really fit into any of the “cliques” that Hawkins High thrives on? You’re not a band nerd, a newspaper nerd or a D&D nerd. You’re not a cheerleader, a swim team jock or close to any of the basketball or football jocks. You’re not one of the art, film or photography buffs. You’re not enough of a geek for any of the academic extracurriculars. And none of this is to say that you’re not friends with your classmates, you can always find someone to hang out with. It’s just never a consistent group. Maybe that’s why Steve won’t attach himself and his precious reputation to you.

You head into homeroom and it’s all abuzz. Your teacher does a little Secret Santa exchange between your class every year, where everyone gets a $5 spending limit to buy a gift for someone you pull randomly out of a box. Your friends usher you to go to the desk with the container on it, and you giggle. There's a high enough percentage that you'll select one of your friends, or a friend of theirs, that you'll be able to nail their gift, you think to yourself as you're mixing your hand around in the box.

Instead, the name you pull out is Jonathan Byers. Shit. The one kid who doesn't talk to anyone. Though a lot of your friends each run in their own social circles, one thing they all agree on is convincing you that it's not worth trying to talk to him. And even the one time you'd tried, last year when you were trying to find your place as The New Freshman in a town where everyone already knew everyone, he made it clear that he keeps himself to himself.

If you suddenly just start sitting close to him and trying to fire off questions, he’ll know you’re only doing it for gift research, and you don’t want to make him feel like you’re not interested in getting to know him. And besides, who knows what they “want” that would cost less than $5? 

By the time he skulks into the classroom, you’ve thought of the perfect strategy. He sits, out of the way, as always, and you approach his desk. You perch yourself on the edge of it and smile, “Hi, Jonathan!” He looks up at you, nods, then goes to root round in his bag. You continue, “Um, I think the secret Santa thing is ready to go this year.”

“And you have me? It’s fine, you don’t have to get me anything,” he offers you a small, pitiful smile.

“No!” you lie. “I just wanted to make sure you didn’t miss out.”

“Thanks. I’ll just get the last one, like always,” he nods.

“I actually wanted to ask you about, um - you’re in Mrs Calman’s class for English too, right?” You ask, and he nods again. “I, uh, I can’t seem to get my head around the reading. Shakespeare’s writing, it just goes straight past me, y’know?” you chuckle. “Um, but you seem to do pretty well, so I was - I was wondering, would you mind helping me out? I promise, I’m not gonna try and mooch off your work, if you could just read through the book with me and help me make it make sense, I’d super appreciate it,” you grin.

He pushes his lips into a sideways smirk. “If that’s all you want, I can probably write up some notes for you, without taking up too much of your time.”

“It wouldn’t be taking up my time if we studied together,” you offer with a warm smile. “If that’s something that you want. Besides, getting you to write out the whole book would be insane,” you laugh, and his eyes grow wide.

“Yes! You’re right, you’re very right, that would be… Yes, I’ll talk you through it and you can write it down,” he nods.

“That’s how I learn best, anyways,” you nod with a smile. “What’s better for you, lunchtimes or after school?”

He shrugs, “I don’t exactly have a bursting social schedule,” he laughs quietly. “We could go to the library after school? Try and get as much of it out of the way quickly, and then you won’t be as confused for as long.” He looks up at you with a small smile. 

“Alright! I’ll meet you at the library then?” He nods in agreement, and you knock on his desk a couple of times before getting back up and joining your friends.

“Oh my god, what are you doing?” One hisses, but you shush them.

“It’s fine, he’s helping me with my work. Just… Just lay off him, alright?” You won’t tell them, but there’s one further motive behind getting close to Jonathan. You know he and Steve have somewhat of a camaraderie, so maybe you can finally figure out what the best way is to approach him about his constant note-leaving.

~~~

As you’re sitting on the wall outside the library, you wonder whether Jonathan’s gotten cold feet over the whole thing. You know he’s been bullied before by being led to places that ultimately cause him harm, and you seriously hope that he doesn’t think that of you.

Thankfully, he pulls up and threads his way through everyone else to get to you. He actually looks excited, for once. You’ve never really seen any real, positive emotion on his face, but it suits him well. “Hi! You’re here.” The relief in his voice confirms all your suspicions.

“Of course I am! I’m tired of just seeing words like “cock-a-hoop” and having teachers expect me to believe that this is one of the greatest writers of all time,” you roll your eyes, and Jonathan chuckles, gesturing in front of him to silently invite you to start walking ahead into the library.

“Well, that is one of his more comedic words, his tragic and romantic storytelling is still far beyond anything most people come out with these days,” Jonathan rambles, before clearing his throat to stop himself. “But I get it, it can be pretty jarring to read cohesively if you’re not super invested in it, which school doesn’t really set you up for.”

You side-eye him with a smile as you both sit at a table. “I think this is the most I’ve heard you talk.” He becomes flustered, looking at you with eyes of fearful apology. “I like it, though.” You nod, and he looks away, again clearing his throat.

You spend the evening delving into Romeo and Juliet together, comparing characters to people from school - for someone who doesn’t talk to anyone, Jonathan sure knows a lot about your classmates, and you are living for it - and coming up with ways to rephrase things that make more sense to you. Most do, at least.

"But isn't it "where art thou, Romeo?"" You ask, head in your hands.

"A lot of people think that, but it's actually wherefore, which means why?" Jonathan explains.

"But why is she asking that? Is she just like, "why are you the way that you are"? Isn't she already like, in love or whatever? Why does everything have to be like a damn code?" You groan.

Jonathan nervously puts a comforting hand on your shoulder. "It's okay, this one is a tough one to get around, since again, most people misquote it." You show Jonathan that you appreciate how patient he's being with you by leaning into his touch a little. "It's more like… Why are you the only person I've ever felt love towards, but you're also the worst person to feel love towards, because bullshit societal standards created and upheld outside of our control dictate everything about our lives and there's no way of breaking out of those standards, they just get made one day and everyone's just fine with that being the norm -"

You squeeze his arm gently. "Hey, hey. Breathe. You're fine. I get it. I don't like cliques either, I just sort of float around.

Jonathan squeezes a laugh out between his teeth. "Tsch, yeah, because people like you. And you're good at… Just, putting yourself in front of people and becoming their friend, no matter who they are."

You scrunch your nose up. "Not everyone. There's a few assholes here and there." Trying desperately to act casual, you nudge him, "You're on pretty good terms with Mr Popularity himself though, Steve Harrington. I've seen you two, at least. Would never have expected your crowds to intertwine."

Jonathan scoffs, "That statement assumes I have a crowd. No, my brother is best friends with Steve's girlfriend's brother, so…" he shrugs.

Your heart sinks. Girlfriend? But- 

If you think about it too much around Jonathan, you might reveal something you don't want him to know. Instead you clear your throat and ask, "How is your brother? After all the… You know…"

"Yeah, well, he's… You know… Well, of course you don't, but… He's got his friends, which is nice. Especially since my mom isn't letting him out of her sight again."

"I can imagine she wouldn't!" You can tell this is a sensitive topic for Jonathan so you don't press further, but he continues, "Actually, I should get going soon. I promised Will I'd pick up a record for him."

You gasp, "Are you going to Larry's?" Jonathan nods, that glint of excitement in his eye again. "I need to go there sometime, he's the only guy I know that stocks the records I listen to."

"Wh- what kinda stuff do you like?" Jonathan asks, suddenly very shy for some reason.

"Well, this is gonna sound… Super pretentious, but there's some bands from England who, like, I don't know how to explain their sound? But I like it. And Larry gets shipments from time to time. I wanted to see if he had any more stuff from this one band I've been digging, The Cure. I think they're gonna make it big here someday," you nod knowingly.

"When they do, I'll be sure to tell people that you've said that on this day," he muses, and you laugh. The shy persona returns. "I could… Take you, if you want. You could put your bike in the trunk of my car. Will does that all the time, it should fit."

This is good, you think to yourself. I can get a taste of what to get him here.

Larry, as it turns out, can't wait to see you. He states that there's a new album out in the UK this month, and he should be able to get his hands on a copy by the new year. He has a single for you to listen to in the meantime, however. You take Lovecats out of its sleeve, place it delicately onto the player, and instead of putting the headphones on, you offer them to Jonathan. His brow furrows, "How do you know you'll even like it?"

You shrug, "They've not failed me yet."

Jonathan bops his head along to the music, clearly enjoying himself. It's quite cute to watch, actually. You never thought the Jonathan Byers at school could really be considered "cute", but with his hair falling into his smiling eyes, and his head moving from side to side, there's a certain archetype of adorable that the sight of him fits into.

He shows you his favourite band, Misfits, and buys an album of theirs as well as one from a band called Descendents. You assume that's for Will.

He drops you off outside your home at the end of the evening, but makes no attempt to get out, or engage with you in any way. Just a smile and a wave. You feel a slight pang of disappointment, but you understand that he still has a fear of people changing up on him.

It doesn't deter him, however, from walking past you in the hallway, meeting your pace as he aligns with you for just long enough to make plans to meet again at the library and then quickly walk away again. You really feel proud for breaking through to him. You spend many an evening talking Shakespeare, other prose your teacher throws at you, and swapping music tastes.

There's only one thing you notice - your little locker love notes no longer appear.

It's not disappointing as such, if it is Steve writing them, you're glad you're not part of some scandal featuring the most popular guy in school. But there are just so many loose ends there that remain. Why you? Why the secrecy? Why pursue Nancy at the same time? 

You finally find a window of opportunity when you happen to pass Steve as he’s loading up his locker for the day. You stand behind him and clear your throat. He turns to look at you and his brow furrows in confusion. “Can I help you?”

“Alright, Harrington, the jig is up. I want answers,” you fold your arms and narrow your eyes.

His face only contorts further. “I don’t think I have them? I’m sorry, I don’t know who you are.”

“Don’t play games with me. What, is the whole lion thing because of the - the hair?” You gesture around the top of your head, in the shape of his signature hairstyle.

“What lion thing?! You seriously have me mixed up with someone else,” he shakes his head and carries on with what he was doing.

“I’ve seen you posting your notes in my locker!” you hiss, and he halts, sinking his head down into his locker.

He stands still for a few seconds before taking a deep breath out of his mouth and slowly leaning back. “Okay. Okay. I’m with you now. I didn’t know if this day would ever come. How do I - shit, man, I’m a man of my word,” he mutters under his breath before clicking his fingers. “I got it!” He rustles around in his locker and pulls out a binder. “Okay, I was sworn to secrecy, so I’m not going to say anything, got it? Anything you might get from this conversation, I have not told you.” He holds up a science worksheet. “See this? See the name on top.” The name Steve Harrington is scrawled at the top, but in a handwriting you don’t recognise. “I’m about to turn this in. The only reason it’s all filled in is because a mutual friend of ours helps me. Here’s his.” He holds up an identical sheet, filled in with identical answers, but with no name on the top and a style of handwriting you definitely recognise.

“Can - can I take that?” you ask bashfully.

“Sure. In fact, here,” Steve takes out a whole load of study notes. “See for yourself.”

“I’m, um… I’m sorry.” you mumble your apology.

Steve looks at you softly. “You’re good. Now that I know who you are, at least,” he chuckles. “Be good to him, won’t you? Nancy likes to look out for him.”

“To who? You’ve not told me anything about anyone,” you smirk, and he taps his forehead in a salute that points to you. You stuff your new research into your book bag, catch up with Jonathan, tell him you’re busy tonight (which he understands without further questioning) and go about your day.

You cycle straight home after school, and fetch the box with your Valentine’s card and all your locker notes in. Spreading the notes out around all the worksheets, you can find instances of every letter that matches perfectly. The one friend you have in common with Steve. The one person who you’ve spoken to every day that you haven’t received a note for. You smile to yourself as you think of the perfect secret Santa gift, and rush out of the house to make sure you get to the bookstore in good time.

~~~

On the last day of the semester, Jonathan’s beaten you to the classroom, giving you the perfect opportunity to present him with his gift, especially since your friends are busy buying sprigs of mistletoe from a stall in the hallway to spring on their crushes. It’s a school tradition, albeit one you’ve never really been super into.

In homeroom, you place the gift bag down on Jonathan’s desk and grin, “Merry Christmas!”

He nods slowly. “I knew it. That’s why you wanted to hang out with me. So you could get me a gift.”

“No!” You start, but he raises his eyebrows at you. “Okay, at first, maybe. But look at us now!” You grin, punching his shoulder playfully. “I’m gonna let you open that by yourself, alright?” You walk back to wait for your friends, and watch him take out the vintage copy of The Wizard of Oz. He looks embarrassed, confused, a little relieved? It’s hard to tell, he seems to convey multiple emotions at once.

Your friends approach as you’re watching him open his gift and they immediately start gossiping to you.

“Oh, now I get why you were hanging around him so much!”

“Good, I was starting to worry that you were sympathising over that freak.”

You can tell he can hear them, by the way his whole demeanour starts to shrink. You decide enough is enough. “Hey. Talk about him like that again, and I want nothing more to do with you.”

Your friends pull incredulous expressions at you. “Is he your boyfriend?”

“Not yet, but with any luck…” Feeling a burst of confidence-fueled adrenaline, you stride back over to Jonathan, hold him by the front of his shirt, lift him out of his seat and press a kiss to his lips. His eyes widen in shock, then close as his face softens as he embraces it. 

When you eventually break apart, you let go of him and he falls back into his chair with a soft thud. He looks up at you with a giddy elation, positively giggling at you. “Um… I didn’t. Plan on you figuring this out, so soon at least.”

You laugh, “Yeah, well. I did kinda catch onto your decoy a while back.”

He groans, squeezing one eye shut, “I thought… You’d get freaked out if you knew I liked you. And I wasn’t sure how to get it out of my system, so…” He shrugs. “I asked Steve to put them in your locker. I don’t even think he knows who you are. Super dumb, I know.”

“Shows that the company you do manage to keep is pretty high quality. Very reflective of you,” you point out with a nod.

Jonathan laughs, a little awkwardly. “It’s certainly improved greatly in recent history.” You simper at him, and he looks up at you, biting his lip and narrowing his eyes. “I, um… So, you know I was saying that I didn’t plan on you finding out?” You nod. “I was going… To tell you, today. Um, after I… Bought some… To…” he turns bright pink.

You grin, filling in the blanks. “Did you buy your mistletoe already?” He shakes his head, eyes wide, and you lean in close to him. “Well, good job I already kissed you then, huh.” You kiss his forehead and slide off his desk. “Come sit with me at lunch?”

“Wh- Who are you gonna eat with?” he asks quietly.

“Doesn’t matter. I want you with me, screw the others. If they start shit, we’ll just leave. Deal?” He nods, presses his lips together and smiles. “See you then.”

#jonathan byers x reader #jonathan byers x you #jonathan byers imagine #jonathan byers fic #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #*myfics

[kandisheek]

FIC REC WEEK 13 – MISSION FIC

SERIES: Armed and Dangerous by AlchemyAlice

Pairing: Steve/Bucky/Tony, Pepper/Coulson Rating: M Words: 82,944 Tags: Action/Adventure, Polyamory Negotiations, BAMF Pepper

Summary: Bucky wakes up. Tony takes a liking to him. Steve frowns a lot. Also, there is some Avenging going on. And tech porn.

Reasons why I love it: The Avengers are utterly unhinged, but what else is new. I love how Tony and Bucky are the ones who click instantly, and it's Steve who takes a while to come around. Also, Pepper and Coulson's entire subplot is so much fun! I love them. Definitely go and check this one out!

This series consists of:

Impulse

Pairing: Bucky/Tony Rating: T Words: 3,629 Tags: Canon Divergence, Bucky's Metal Arm, First Kiss

Summary: Bucky is found by SHIELD. Tony wants a project. They meet somewhere in the middle.

Reasons why I love it: Talk about love at first sight. Tony and Bucky's chemistry is off the charts, and I love the first hints of Bucky meddling in Tony and Steve's relationship too. The scene with the holographic hand is one that regularly pops into my head and makes me want to reread this entire series. I love this fic, and all the ones that follow!

Reflexes

Pairing: Steve/Bucky/Tony Rating: M Words: 41,299 Tags: Polamory Negotiations, Action, Threesomes

Summary: Bucky meets the team and manages to survive the experience, Tony is his usual dysfunctional self, and Steve pouts with deadly force.

Reasons why I love it: I love the slow burn in this, Tony and Steve gradually warming up to each other while Bucky is his usual scheming self. The humor is top notch, and the action is so fucking good it almost feels like you're watching a movie. Plus, the way they get together in the end is fantastic, top marks, couldn't have wished for anything better. I love this one so much!

The Art of Order

Pairing: Pepper/Coulson, Steve/Bucky/Tony Rating: G Words: 18,762 Tags: Competency, Corporate Espionage, Drinking

Summary: The alternate title to this story is, ‘How Pepper Got Her Groove Back (Not That She Ever Lost It To Begin With): A Story in Cocktails’: In which Pepper rules Stark Industries with an iron fist in between drink breaks, there is way higher than Level Seven clearance at SHIELD but Phil trusts her with a lot more than that, and the Avengers really have no idea how much work has to be done to keep them afloat when it doesn't directly involve explosions.

Reasons why I love it: Pepper is a boss ass queen, and don't you ever forget it. I really enjoyed getting a look inside her mind here, how she processes not only everything to do with Tony, the Avengers and her professional duties, but also her budding relationship with Coulson. Those two could probably run the world together with the lift of a single finger. Amuly really nailed Pepper's characterization to the point where it feels like she was plucked straight out of canon. This fic is absolutely wonderful and a great companion piece to the first two in this series.

Clint Barton and the Adventures of This, That, and the Whatsit

Pairing: Gen Rating: T Words: 3,125 Tags: Humor, Robot Friends, Fluff

Summary: Clint is totally the John Connor of New York. Until he isn’t.

Reasons why I love it: Clint endearing himself to an army of cleaner bots is the cutest thing ever. Said bots turning into a Clint Barton Defense Squad is even more adorable. I love everything about this fic, and I bet you will too!

Ian White and the Rolodex of Doom

Pairing: OMC/FC Rating: T Words: 16,129 Tags: Office Life, Pepper's PA, Humor

Summary: For the record, Ian does not go to his interview at Stark Industries with any hope of getting the job whatsoever.

Reasons why I love it: Ian is such a fun OC, I'm so happy we get to see more of him here. He's such a sweetheart, and everyone else recognizing that and taking him under their wing is adorable. Plus, his whole thing with Nancy is super cute. In short, Ian must be protected at all costs, and I love this entire series more than I can say. Please go and check it out if you haven't, because it's incredible!

#marvel #stuckony #winteriron #pepper/coulson #fic rec #ficrec #fanfic #a year in fanfic recs #mission fic

[youngsuitedboi]

A very special relationship

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Both boys stood in what had been Tom's bedroom until that morning, now completely emptied of furniture and personal belongings. They couldn't comprehend what was happening or why Sir would take such actions.

An envelope lay in the centre of the room, and Tom picked it up, opening it for both of them to read:

Dear boys,

You may have noticed that Tom's room is now empty. I have big plans for this room, but I cannot reveal them just yet. Yesterday, by accepting your collars and cages, you agreed to move to a new level of control, which pleases me. Allow me to explain how things will work from now on.

But first, Tom, don't worry. Your personal belongings are now in Alex's room—only the things you actually need. I noticed this morning that you tried to hide the collar I gifted you. It saddened me to see you wanting to conceal such a wonderful gift, but I understand that you're not ready yet. You two looked adorable this morning, and I realized I like seeing you both looking the same, both inside and outside the apartment. As for you, Tom, since you clearly want to hide the collar, I have left you with collared shirts only. I also like the idea of ties for both of you, so I want you to dress formally when you are outside of the apartment. Represent me well.

Now, onto the main matter. Alex's room... is no longer Alex's room. I have also altered the layout and left only what is necessary. I believe it is spacious enough for both of you. It is now a shared bedroom.

Regarding sleeping arrangements, you will share a bed. I bet you are excited, aren't you? But not so fast. There is another small gift waiting for both of you on your pillows. Why don't you go and check your new room?

With love,

Sir

So many changes had occurred in their lives within the past 24 hours. Both boys were excited, as it meant they could spend more time together, even sleeping in the same bed. Their excitement would have been evident if not for the small chastity cages they wore, effectively preventing them from getting hard.

Alex took hold of Tom's hand and led him to their new room. It wasn't surprising to find numerous changes. Alex's previously vibrant room had been transformed into a pristine white space with simple wooden furniture. Two posters depicting kinky art adorned the walls.

The furniture consisted of two basic wooden tables placed opposite each other, each accompanied by a chair. One set for Alex and the other for Tom. Apart from a small table lamp and a notebook, the tables were empty.

Alex's closet had also vanished, replaced by two clothing racks holding only formal attire. Tom's rack was relatively empty, for now. Each boy had their own chest of drawers, matching the tables in wooden construction. There was no other furniture in the room—only the two tables, two chairs, two clothing racks, and one bunk bed.

The bed itself was new. Gone was that comfortable double bed that Alex slept in since he moved in. Instead, in its place, there was a bunk bed pressed to the wall. There were name tags informing both boys about their respective places on the bed. Alex´s place was on the bottom while Tom would occupy the top bunk. This change was a bad one for both. After reading Sir´s letter, they were looking forward to be sleeping in the same room. Little did they know Sir would not make it easy for them. The bunk bed was way more appropriate for boys like Alex and Tom. No need for a big double bed that would take up a huge amount of the room. No. Instead, this small bunk bed will accommodate boys every night between 10PM and 6AM.

So much had changed in the past 24 hours. Both boys were now collared and caged, permitted to wear only formal clothing, and sharing a bedroom together. They wanted to cuddle in bed, but that bunk bed changed their plans. While they were happy about most of the sudden changes, this one was the most disappointing. Alex and Tom had quickly grown accustomed to each other's presence, enjoying each other's company. Now they had an opportunity to be even closer, yet it came at the cost of not being able to touch or even look at each other while in bed. 

[6ad6ro]

prob the most obvious statement ever, but you understand that college is just a way to force young adults into years of indentured servitude, just for the "privilege" of being allowed to work, right? the harder it is to get a good job, the more it costs to be able to work there. the easier to obtain jobs pay less, forcing people to fight tooth and nail over the high paying, harder to obtain jobs. forcing more money spent to get into more competitive colleges. to get more pieces of paper that say you're allowed to waste more of your life in order to repay what those pieces of paper originally cost. creating debt so that the victim is hopefully able to pay off that debt.

and big surprise, the government and "society" pushes an agenda where education is "the most important thing". but not just any education, rather one that is "accredited". which isn't education. because none of this has ever been about learning or bettering oneself or helping humanity. it's always been about locking more and more people into the capitalist machine. it's always been about creating new "workers", in the most consistent ways possible.

on top of that, the con is generational. because not only do you need to make enough money to get out of debt, you also need to "start a family" in order to live a "normal" life. which means you need to get out of debt faster. save more money to attempt to offset some of the astronomically higher cost your kids will have to pay to be able to have the same privilege you did to go into (even more) debt. men are told to be "providers" and women are told to be "moms", a system that normalizes having kids. which creates more artificial debt. which enslaves more and more people for longer and longer chunks of their lives. in case you ever wondered why the concept of "only two genders" is pushed so hard by people in power, where will they get their workers if people stop following "normal" gender roles?

we live in a society where art and music degrees are joked about as "worthless". where sports is more important than philosophy. where more and more books get regularly banned for young kids just because they might instil "radical thoughts" (aka perspectives that don't play nice with becoming a loyal worker bee). it was never about bettering ourselves. look at the way this country refused to shut unnecessary labor down even at the risk of propagating covid. money. is more important. than human survival. because money. equals. generational wage slaves.

capitalism cannot exist without wage slavery. the majority of people in this system suffer. and the people at the top live a life of stress and evil, doing everything they can to try and stay ahead of the curve. it's almost impossible to be safe, happy, or fulfilled. everyone loses. it is hell on earth. this is hell on earth. and it will continue until it is stopped dead. blown up. destroyed completely, with no chance of recovering. our suffering will not stop until people like you and i do something about it. if we don't, this hell will burn and burn until there isn't anything left to fuel it. leaving nothing but a charred, dead husk. there is no future if we are unwilling to change.

[muffinmonstah-art]

I think because nobody really makes any ship content for Jason and Barbara and it is extremely rare to see art for them, especially right now where everything is Dick and Barbara. So it’s nice to see that there is still a community out there or people who still like Jason and Barbara as a pairing. I absolute adore your JayBabs art! It’s so beautiful!

It's cute that my JayBabs art has been feeding my ask box a lot lately. I've produced a lot of fanart for niche ships over the years and I've never brought this type of attention to myself. By what you're saying the JayBabs tag has been very deprived of content. That's kinda sad. But it's not a big deal in my eyes. You'd be surprised by the fact that the majority of people engaging on the Batfam fandom online probably don't even know this ship exists and have no previous judgement towards it.

Sometimes you just need the one fanart that gets viral for the ship to gain a few new entusiastic shippers :)

The DickBabs ship is just Batwriter agenda, crafted with the purpose to keep Dick isolated from having any relevant bond outside the Batman property. And it's so fucking plastic and poorly writen that constantly gets in the way of everything even inside the Batman related stories. I'm starving for Jason & Dick content first and foremost, and I can't stand this shit getting in the way of every single Batfam dynamic involving Dick. Seriously, where are my Jason&Dick centered stories? I want Nightwing&Batman stories too without any nasty ships stealing valious pages from the story that could be used to explore other more relevant things. Do I also have to mention how annoying it is that Dick cannot count on his friends anymore because now his only bestie is the woke bitch?

The idea of me shipping this kind of editorial plastic craft that stank of "Batwriter agenda" since day 1, instead of a blank page full of potential for writers like JayBabs is laughable honestly.

Even worse it becomes when you add the fact that my most hated fictional trope of all times: the "childhood soulmates" one was injected to this turd back then, when the characters' ages were retconed to add their off-panel "history together" bullshit.

I have a problem with this trope. I have a big personal problem with any fictional ship that follows this shitty trope. This bland idealized fantasy that consists in two characters that meet each other as kids, and they become the first crush for each other, and become best friends and later on they start to date and they make love and they grow up together and stay together for the rest of their lives blablablah does not vibe at all with me. The reason? I LIVED IT IN REAL LIFE. The love of my life is the first man I've dated and the only romantic experience I had. It's been many many years since we started dating.

I get why normies instantly become attached and idealize this kind of relationships in fiction. Because in real life this is not the norm. The probabilites of someone having their first crush on their soulmate at a young age are what… 0.00001%? I've met many many people in my life, so did my boyfriend (and he knows thrice people than me), and even for the Catholic standards from my country, the number of people we've met that had a story similar to ours is NONE. It's no wonder really why so many writers write this ships so badly, and why the audiences of those stories cannot identify how awful those ships are. It's a fantasy scenario.

But I lived it, and I hate 99% of ships that fall into this trope because I consider they do a terrible job at depicting a reality that has been my normal day by day basis for the last 13 years. DickBabs is the worst of them all but in my eyes is just another example of why this shitty trope shoud burn in flames and never be used again, unless your typical writer actually tries to sit down for a minute and think about how humans behave and how human relationships work. You don't need to experience what you write in first hand to depict it well, you just need to be intelligent about it, do some proper research.

One day I'll write my own story featuring the childhood soulmates theme. It's going to be heavily based on my personal experience and it's going to bitchslap every stupid writer who ever wrote this trope as a bland boring idealized fantasy. It'll be the deconstruction of the childhood soulmates trope. I'll get to be the Latin American female version of Alan Moore!!!!1111oneone

But either way, I think it'd be nice if we stop mentioning DickBabs while talking about JayBabs. That ship is not a ship that has earned the status of relationship by the sweat and effort of countless writers that tried to make it work over the years like say, Clark and Louis. No. It's a Batwriter agenda shit. A retcon. The fact that it gets constantly shoved down our throats lately doesn't add any depth to that. It just makes it more forced and annoying. It really does not deserve the mention, unless it is to use it as a punching bag lmao.

Let's focus instead on why JayBabs has potential to be a great ship if it ever gets explored on the main continuity.

#asks #anti dickbabs #jaybabs