#i just wanna draw folx

[restless-witch]

Questions for 15 Friends

re-posting bc my sideblog has different mutuals/friends <3

thank u for the tag <3 <3 <3 @swanfloatieknight

ARE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE?:

I am mf named like a god damn habsburg- my first name is my paternal grandmother’s (as a fuck you) hyphenated with an invocation of the 'blessed virgin' then a femme form of my maternal grandfather’s name then an invocation of a cannonized imperial ancestor like jfc-- to be clear, I have more names on my birth certificate, those are just the ones picked from people

WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED?:

a week ago I thought too hard about “Dinner in America”

DO YOU HAVE KIDS?:

nope

WHAT SPORTS DO YOU PLAY/HAVE YOU PLAYED?:

I did some medieval sword fighting but stopped when gyms closed in 2020- I got out of doing a sport in high school by joining Math Team

DO YOU USE SARCASM?:

I do but I try to be mindful of it

WHAT IS THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?:

Haircuts- are you picking a currently popular one or do you know yourself better than that?

WHAT’S YOUR EYE COLOUR?:

a dark red-brown, my sister’s are a true brown and my brother’s are a yellow-brown which is facinating to me

SCARY MOVIES OR HAPPY ENDINGS?:

ANY TALENTS?:

I make a lot of distinctions between skills and talents: I’ve got a lot of natural talent for all fiber arts, jumping fences, and baking yeasted things

WHERE WERE YOU BORN?:

Midwest babyyyyy

WHAT ARE YOUR HOBBIES?:

Knitting, writing, going on walks, memorizing song lyrics, maybe video games

DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS?:

Miss Pumpernickel

HOW TALL ARE YOU?:

5'4" (162cm?) on a good day- what is funny is I have good posture and a longish torso so on more than one occasion I have met someone sitting down and they thought I was a much taller person. I frequently wear flatform shoes and I guess I have the movements of a taller person because I hear, quite often, that people forget I am a small human being.

FAVOURITE SUBJECT IN SCHOOL?:

I am a scholarly person now but I did not like school for a long time because I was very unsupported a lot of the time. In college, I liked my drawing courses, poetry workshops, and my Medieval/Renaissance & Japanese literature courses. If I had all the money in the world, I would pursue a PhD in analyzing how “Paradise Lost” has subsumed or replaced actual biblical text as the modern Protestant understanding of Genesis.

DREAM JOB?:

I do not dream of labor.

What my last job used to be was my dream job but that’s a dying profession, I think. Maybe something to do with living history or historical costume fabrication.

tagging friends (and folx I'd like to be friends with <3 ): @oldandkinky, @dancingwiththefae, @rebrandedbard, @lopeslg, @deadwolfdonoteat, @literarypotatoes, @respectwomenjuice, @fandomwarehouse, @bugssiesbeans, @ohwhoopsok, @elythegardeningbard, @flowercrown-bard, and @jackironsides

(it's all good if you don't wanna play too <3 )

#ask games #the witch speaks

[7nathanarmy]

Blorbos for Testosterone

Multiple people asked for this guy so I just had to oblige. I've never watched Hannibal myself but i do like observing it and the fandom from afar. Hannibal is the kind of character i think about when i hear the word "blorbo" or even "poor little meow meow." He's a classic tumblr fixation. He deserves to be in my blorbos for T series Speaking of T. I need it. I'm raising funds for my first year with folx and I'm drawing blorbos to try to spread the word further. If you wanna help out, you can throw a couple dollars my way here You can also make a request for your own blorbos and i might draw them too. I also have commissions! if you want to help out and get something back, or ensure your blorbo gets drawn, you can dm for more info about that.

#hannibal #hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter #art #hannibal fanart #my art #blorbos for t

[skyjynxart]

Mmm sorry.

Ah, the good ol’ readmore yellfest. Seriously no need to read this, I just need to get it off my chest. If you do skim through, big fat TW for transphobia, and like- body image issues? This is a fucked up little diary entry and I’m going to delete it later- this is purely for catharsis & self-reflection after I’ve had some sleep.

And a note to that one very close friend who may read this despite being warned off: I know it’s stupid on some level, I know this started like 2 weeks ago, and I am yelling here so I DON’T yell in your direction again so shoo.

.

.

I like to think I’m someone who handles bigotry well. Most of the time, things slide off me like water off a duck. I’m at this point pretty visibly gender non-conforming, because I’ve been on T for like a year and a half, but refuse to cut my hair off. Microaggressions pretty much mean nothing to me at this point, I hear them all the time, and 99% of the time they’re unintentional and from complete strangers in a town I don’t really like anyway.

Sometimes people are deliberately cruel- but then I can just avoid them, and that’s the end of it. Even at work, where I might have to see certain patrons regularly, there’s juuust enough protections in place for me that I can reasonably refuse to interact with them after they’ve said something, and if I were to gather up the energy to go to HR about it, they’d at least probably be talked to about it.

It hits a little different coming from someone I know online who I thought of as friendly, if not a friend.

It especially hits different when it’s about something I’m not- used to.

Specifically, it hits really fucking hard when it’s comments like ‘it makes me want to gag’ and ‘seriously nobody wants to see that’ and ‘Ive never seen this side of trans’ ( grammatical nightmare aside, that IS a direct quote ), and these comments are being made about an OC that I chose to update an old femme design into a transmasc one. One that I chose to keep the old art of around because the whole point is that we trans folx don’t just pop out of the womb with top surgery scars.

And with the bulk of that disgust being directed at the fact that, when drawing a nude body reference of this OC, I drew him with a vagina ( can I still say vagina on tumblr? ). You know. Like... Trans men are typically born with. Like a great majority of trans men have, because bottom surgery is expensive and painful and frankly doesn’t really work as well when it comes to giving you functioning parts as one would assume. They can’t just- graft a dick onto someone.

It’s like people wanna support us until they’re confronted with the reality of what being trans means.

And I guess this just hits hard because I already struggle with feeling-- like I’m wanted on like, a very basic level lmao, but particularly with internalising a lot of rhetoric and frankly narrow representation of transmasc people ( skinny or buff af, white, short hair, no hips, only clockable by voice or height, still hairless somehow, and either wearing a strap in sexytimes or not sexy at all ) that excludes someone who presents the way I do pretty heavily on multiple counts.

So someone making those kinds of comments because they don’t like that I re-designed an OC to reflect parts of my experience- parts of my body that I am struggling to love, but can love more easily on a piece of fiction made out of pixels- I guess it makes sense that it’s circling around in my head even weeks later. And I’ve never really- felt hit by transphobia in this way- I’ve never felt cut directly by it before because I’m usually so fucking prepared, and so used to recognising when there’s a high risk and cutting people off before they have a chance to enact this kind of shit and hurt me with it.

I dunno I’m dealing with a lot of weird things for the first time in my life because my late 20s is a weird as fuck time to exist, and my body is changing from age and a second puberty at the same time, and some of those changes are amazing things that I’m happy about while others are waking a lot of internalised issues I never knew I had until now, and this was just a really fucking inopportune time for something like that to come along, and ever since those screenshots got shared with me I just- haven’t been able to feel right or comfortable. At first I thought okay, I am fueled by 99% spite, so I’m gonna draw SO MUCH transguy smut now, but--

every time I sit down to do it, I freeze up.

I don’t know why- this has never happened to me before. And I hate it. I hate that words not even spoken directly to me- maybe even because they weren’t spoken directly to me, because then I have to wonder how many other people are secretly saying and thinking the same things- can make me question my body, question what I draw, question-- so much about myself. I fucking hate it.

#sky speaks #tw

[scourgadow]

Awesome thank you and of course sfw :) I'm sorry what would be good tags for you with fanart posts?

you can post it and @ me and ill definitely see it that way, but if youre not comfortable w that you can also use the Submit A Post feature and add something like #fanart ? when i post it ill also try to format it in a way that makes sense asdfg im not 100% sure cause this hasn’t happened in a while lololol

#most folx who draw domino are my pals so they just drop an @ but i know that can be daunting to some folx (mself included lolol) #but yea whatevers comfortable for you !!! dude im amped jhgfds #i believe back when this happened for a sonic au of mine i used the tag 'others art' to keep it sorted if youd wanna use that! #asks #answered #Anonymous #rambles.txt #not sonic

[gender-chaotic]

Just wanna say i love that not only Alex Brightman but also Beetlejuice broadway stands with black lives matter.

Support black creators in the fandom

Support black actor's/actress on and off broadway

Support people who draw the characters as black and poc in general but anti blackness is incredibly rampant we need better rep!

BLACK LIVES MATTER

I am a blck creator in this fandom and im going to speak THE FUCK out about it and i REALLY HOPE that makes y'all non black folx especially you white ppl in the fandom uncomfortable

OH AND ACAB

Support bail for protesters! Support Minneapolis! Support George Floyd's family AND HELP BRING JUSTICE

Ending for now with this

#beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #alex brightman #beetlejuice broadway #black lives matter

[aro-culture-is]

I don’t know if you’re a person willing to deal with this but here it goes. I’m 20, a lesbian, and autistic. My parents always told me they married their best friend, and I guess I assumed love was friendship + attraction. But it seems like that’s not the case, because sometimes I wanna kiss my friends or have sex with them, and assumed that was love, but my therapist says that is Not True and I’m confused. What is romantic attraction, and am I not having it? Advice would be great!

re: what is romantic attraction, try this post i just made

in all honesty, i think the most specific advice i can give you is... well.

kissing isn’t necessarily romantic. my experience as a 20yo aro is that there’s a difference between romantic, sexual, friendship, and familial kissing. i don’t know exactly how to word these differences, but i think the most pertinent difference here is that kissing is what you make of it. if you view it as more of something that you like in a more sexual context, whatever that means for you? probs sexual kissing and not romantic.

i have no idea what romantic kissing is like for someone who experiences romance, but imo it seems to be like. they want to kiss you because they really like you and want to be with you and it’s somehow expressed via that? idk i hate kissing i really shouldn’t try to describe this. in all honesty, the best i have is that if you would be just as pleased with that kiss being on the sensitive spot(s) of the recipient’s neck and pupils get dilated when it’s happening, probably more of a sexual kiss than a romantic kiss. this might be what your therapist is getting at.

friendship + sexual attraction is definitely not romance, which is what i’m interpreting from your statement above. don’t think i can describe romo attraction better than i already attempted, but i can tell you that my experience is that aro people, esp ND aro people tend to make that assumption. we don’t experience that feeling, so we draw the “logical” conclusion and then get hit by that whole experience of “oh, new secret rules. thanks” because it isn’t that.

ultimately, I would highly recommend you look into and talk to aromantic allosexual folx about their experiences. the points you bring up sound to me like you’re at least sex-favorable, and probably at least aro-spec if not straight up aromantic.

sorry that this is really rambly, i just tried to hit possibly relevant points and honestly it’s the bane of every aro blog ever to try to describe something we don’t feel.

best of luck!

#advice #aro #aromantic #actually aro #actually aromantic #am i aro #ask #aaaa i really hope these things help ever #y'all have no idea how hard it is sometimes to look at a teeny snapshot #of someone's deeply personal identity related questions #and be like uhhhh okay what can i talk about #like it's fine to send these and all #but i feel like i'm on whose line is it anyway #and y'all gave me a scene and now i just have to roll with it and see if my brain is gonna cooperate #so like. i guess what i'm saying is please feel free to reply to these #it gives me a sense of satisfaction to know that someone actually read it #and has thoughts about it #and thanks raaven for usually replying #in all honesty idk if y'all are aware but i am an anxious bean who craves validation just as much as y'all #and even disagreeing with my positions is a good calm down source as long as it's constructive #otherwise i look at these posts like hmm 13 likes do they like it or did i ramble so much they liked it to read later #Anonymous #mod kee

[wormman]

Your post about Rosie has me intrigued: what’s the deal with Evil X in the au?

ok well i was gonna draw something for this but my hermie crab inspiration is Gone so heres just a text post lmao. its also long but it has a fun song in it if you wanna listen :^D

step one: put on venus ambassador 

step two, listen to my tales ye children young

evil x was x’s first of three camera accounts. it gets a bit confusing, but xisuma is… Xisuma. EvilXisuma is evil x, ofc, then theres Xisumavoid (Barry or Void) and HermitcraftAlt (Alex). 

x likes to tinker with his camera accounts since he does other series apart from Hermitcraft, as well as the fact that he’s one of the hermit’s admins. all three of his cameras have the ability to alter the magic of the hermitcraft island. 

evil x was defuncto, ofc, and developed personality, which unlike joe or cleo, x didnt take to well. and he had valid reason to- x sees CAMCapture more than them, so so do his cameras, x actually displays his camera on screen a lot (like in mythbusting), and there was a higher chance he could get into serious trouble. 

but xisuma wanted to try something, so they did. he gave evil x a jacket, a physical one- the clothing that the cameras wear are all actual.. parts of the cameras. you can’t take them off unless the camera changes its clothes in customization processes, and the clothes do not rip, tear, or get stained. and he wore it over his arm-band, a marker of his droid-y-ness. 

and thus evil x became that lovable villain we see in hermitcraft episodes. he becomes a fan-favourite, almost, and its fun for x since they’re playing a game, almost. ex doesn’t obey x’s every command, which adds the ‘realism’.

eventually, ex gets tired and leaves. like, without a word. x is like HAH oh oh . oh o h. and finally reports that ex is missing.

of course, x doesnt want to get in trouble with the law, so he says that he didn’t know ex was malfunctioning, which .. worked, lmao. so CAMCapture sent out people to look for ex but he’s gone. not a trace. no one knows where he is.

i mean i do. he works accounting now and over time his brace stopped working as well as it can, meaning a lot of x’s abilities, specifically the one he’d need to change form, are gone. 

i do totally imagine people initially saw him and were like oh cool! an evil xisuma cosplayer! and he just >:(

hes not dead but hes certainly not an android anymore. and legally, evil xisuma is a criminal ! woo we did it folx. i dont have an alias for him yet but now i do really wanna draw accounting xisuma soo. lmao thx for reading?

#long post #Anonymous #ask #hermitcraft #hermitcraftserver #hermitcraft 6 #xisumavoid #xisuma #evilxisuma #ttwb au #to the world border

[time-to-write-and-suffer]

@the-crows-have-teeth replied to your post: Ok well I’m having a bad time at 3 AM because I...

Wait what’s wrong with that game? I love it �� please inform me

I’ll just tell you the stuff I personally find questionable because I don’t want to spread more of the just super unconstructive “callout” crap at this point. You can make up your own mind about it or continue to live in blissful ignorance if the game brings you joy. (Especially since it’s free. I’d be more wary of supporting things that were sold. But I suppose some might make the argument that publicly supporting the game is already bad enough. Be your own judge.) I think it’s vital to be critical of the things you enjoy but it shouldn’t veer into shaming people or hating yourself for enjoying it. No creation or creator is flawless. If we were to wait for a perfect piece of media to fall into our laps none of us would be making or experiencing or enjoying literally anything ever. That being said: 

1) The romance options feel very fetishy to me at times? It’s very clear the devs were interested in writing male romance options and male romances primarily and tacked on a token female option plus a suspiciously-man-looking NB option (HEADS UP: I WILL GO INTO THIS IN A LATER POINT AND I’M ALSO NON-BINARY MYSELF SO FEEL FREE TO DISAGREE WITH ME BECAUSE I MYSELF DON’T QUITE KNOW HOW TO FEEL ABOUT THIS.) 

2) The writing is quite bad in many places, but this is a question of taste, I think, and isn’t really “problematic” per se. 

3) The designs of the Characters of Color are ... well they’re ... this is also gonna be controversial I think but they’re basically white folx with a different skintone slapped on. Their features remain strictly white European. There are IRL PoC who look like this but the majority don’t, in fact the opposite (non-white features on pale/white skin) is more common. The tendency to design all your PoC like this is ... bad. It goes beyond but ties into sameface syndrome IMO. Some artists are genuinely not super skilled at drawing varied faces, but at some point you need to stop using white people as your references lmao.

4) Apparently one of the (adult) devs writes questionable fanfic porn? Which is like ... lmao what else is new. However, she seems to have a preoccupation with “teen sex” (legal but like barely legal, aging characters down for the explicit purpose of teen sex) and has defended some of it according to the “callout source”. There’s also apparently the fact that they had a minor working on a NSFW game, but I’m personally more interested in knowing whether they paid that minor or not, because I’ve played the game and it’s not explicit (there’s descriptions of gore and swearing but there’s nothing explicitly sexual or pornographic), so if this dev was an older teen I’d worry more if they got paid or not cuz child labor laws. 

5) The “nb rep” is debatable and I’m torn on it personally. Nonbinary people do not owe binary folks androgyny and saying “I’m NB” should be enough to make someone NB, regardless of how “masculine” or “feminine” they look. However,  knowing the dev’s preoccupation with hot dudes and focus on male/male romances, I’m less generous with my interpretation, because this enby is literally enby in pronouns only. It feels token, like Asra in The Arcana, who is NB out-of-universe only (another can of worms I don’t wanna touch tbh). Basically it’s the problem of straight women including “nb” options that are conveniently hot-dude-shaped and are dudes in all but pronouns. 

5.5) Building on the questionable NB rep and also the “bad writing” thing, the fact that every character, including the player character, instantly know each other’s pronouns despite only having met and exchanged names? It’s fucking weird and utopian at best (are people mind-readers? can they smell preferred pronouns?), absolutely unrealistic and token at worst. I get the desire to include diversity without making it a Thing but you can avoid making it a thing while still acknowledging it? Idk, it’s another one of those debatable things I suppose. 

6) There are some unfortunate stereotypes with some of the romance options, with the sexy suave vampire being a white dude while the angry and aggressive werewolf is a MoC. I picked up on this but I guess some of it was dulled because I genuinely liked the werewolf dude and felt like he was more than just an angry dog man, but I can see why people would disagree and I wish the devs had just not gone there instead of “making it work”, which is, again debatable if they did. 

In conclusion: I’m tired. 

#the-crows-have-teeth #replies

[ashlynncoy-blog]

Misfire: Critical Condition Part XX

Due to some computer craziness, you’re getting the final chapter early. There’s something going on with my OneDrive not syncing properly and there’s every chance I’m going to lose the last several days worth of writing when I close Word to try and fix the issue.

When the question became, “risk losing the chapter forever and having to write/edit/rewrite it again” versus “or just post it now” NOW won.

So folx, here’s the final installment of Critical Condition. I’ll be back soon (for some values of soon) with the next multichapter, tentatively titled Repair and Recovery. And more Misfire-verse vignettes from the movies (Bail leading the mission to Jabba’s palace! Han asking Breha for her ring! Luke teaching Leia about The Force! Han and Leia on that first trip to Alderaan!) are coming, too.

Enjoy the last chapter. And if you do, PRETTY PLEASE leave me a comment <3

Han wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to groan at the sea of faces watching through Leia’s office windows as she crossed her private landing platform and joined him in his speeder.

“I wasn’t expecting an audience,” he said as she climbed onto the seat beside him.

“They’re curious,” she said. “I came to work a little dressed up, and then I canceled dinner with Threkin Horm, so…”

“Wait,” Han interrupted her, “The work dinner you canceled to come out with me tonight was with Horm?”

“It was,” she replied.

Han smiled at her and shook his head. Of all the New Republic officials who had championed Leia’s possible match with Isolder, Horm had perhaps been the loudest. Han hated the man. The fact that he was the person Leia had canceled on in order to make this dinner happen was deliciously good news.

“Stang, princess,” he said, “this night’s already getting’ good and we haven’t even left your office yet.” He turned and waved at the row of gawkers as he pulled the speeder off the platform and into the traffic lane. “And I’m glad you dressed up,” he added, “I got us a table at Ayrii.”

“Ayrii?” Leia repeated. That was an interesting development. A new-ish restaurant at the pinnacle of one of the Senate District’s highest spires, Ayrii had, in the months since the Hapans had first arrived with their proposals, become the most fashionable place for New Republic movers-and-shakers to see and be seen. And she was pretty sure Han’s ability to reserve a table on one day’s notice had everything to do with her canceled business dinner. They were normally booked up months in advance.

What she wasn’t sure about was whether he’d decided on Ayrii because he was determined for the two of them to be seen in public together as soon as possible or if it was more a grand gesture on his part to show he could fit into her world. Either way, she was happy she’d be able to have the sandfish with vegetables she’d been craving after all.

It was a short drive mostly upwards from Leia’s office to the restaurant’s receiving platform where the valet driods took over the pilot’s seat whie Han went around to help Leia out of the speeder.

“I really am glad you dressed up,” he said, taking a long look at the blush-colored jumpsuit with silver bugle beads cascading from the shoulders she’d chosen for the evening, “you look amazing.”

“You’re looking pretty good yourself,” Leia replied with a nod at his freshly pressed Class A’s as she took his arm and walked with him into the restaurant.

Ayrii was situated in the top floors of a spire tall enough to have an unobstructed view of the sun setting over the mountains in the distance. Tables were arranged in semi-circles facing the stories-tall windows and the service staff was trained to deliver all food abd beverage items from behind—never interrupting the diners’ views. The table Han had reserved for them was on the main level, just to the right of the center of the room. It was one of the restaurant’s better tables, and once upon a time Leia might have wondered if he’d dropped her name in order to get it. But the maitre’d’s obvious reverence to General Solo when they’d arrived was enough to remind her she was dining with one of the New Republic’s most decorated military officers. There was every chance he’d scored a choice table on his own merits entirely.

A repulsor-driven droid met them at the table with two generous flutes of crystal clear sparkling wine and Leia couldn’t help her smile as they clinked glasses and took a sip. Han had barely set his glass back down when his face suddenly went serious.

“Han?” Leia asked, “What is it?”

But he didn’t answer. He was up and gone before she’d finished the question, dashing into the center of the polished floor, flipping their table on its side as he went.

“Get down!” he shouted at everyone at once—but turning his head to direct the order mostly toward Leia.

It was then she saw what was happening. Han reached to the floor and snatched up a silvery orb that had tumbled into view.

A thermal detonator.

He grabbed the thing and, without the slightest pause, tossed it with all his might toward the sunset in the distance. The bomb flew through the open window, detonating just as it cleared the last row of tables.

Leia was barely aware of the explosion and its fallout, hearing the screams of her fellow patrons and of the chaos that was erupting on all sides of her. Her attention was solely focused on Han. It was a familiar feeling—covering him in a firefight—it felt like the old days, and it felt kind of good. Han was scanning the room for the source of the detonator when a blaster bolt barely missed his right boot.

Leia drew her blaster from its hidden holster above her boot and followed the shot’s trajectory upward. The shooter was easy to spot, he was the one being in the whole place, other than Han and Leia, who was not visibly panicking. She fired off two shots, taking the shooter down but drawing fire from an associate somewhere she hadn’t seen. His shot got the table in front of Leia; splinters flew toward her as Han fired off one in his direction, jumping back behind the table beside Leia for cover.

Han’s shot seemed to have done the trick. No further blasterfire erupted, but the chaos was enough without it. Tables were being overturned, dished shattering on the stone floors, beings shouting and running in all directions and a bevy of very confused serving droids buzzing about trying to repair the damage caused by the fracas.

“You brought your blaster to dinner?” Han asked, still scanning the crowd for signs of trouble.

“I’m the heir to the throne of Alderaan and a very high-profile official of the New Republic government,” Leia replied, her back to him, covering her side of the room in a posture she coulnd’t help but notice they’d fallen back into unconsciously. “And we’re still in a state of active warfare with the Empire. It was this” she said then, gesturing with her blaster in his direction, “or agree to a bodyguard.”

“Who probably wouldn’t’ve been as good as shot,” he said.

“And you’re one to talk!” she added, “seeing as you also brought a blaster to dinner.”

“Yeah,” Han allowed, obviously reaching, “Well…. I’m a General in the New Republic Military, and I was having dinner with the heir to the throne of Alderaan and a very high profile official of the New Republic government, and….”

Leia couldn’t help herself. She dropped her defensive posture and turned to face him, laughing harder than was probably proper.

Han looked back at her, smiling. Whatever had amused her, he was thankful for it. There had been a time when he’d have given anything to see that sparkle in her eyes again.

“We’re quite the pair—aren’t we, princess?” he asked, shaking his head at the absurdity of the situation. He’d tried to take her out for a nice dinner in an upscale place to try and set the tone for a possible new relationship, and it had taken a violent attack to get them back on the same page.

Leia turned to fully face him and took his hands.

“We’re a good team,” she replied, “always have been—ever since I ordered you into that garbage chute.”

Han shook his head and laughed. It seemed like a million years since that day on the Death Star. He was pretty sure he’d loved her even then. And he was more than certain he’d loved her a little more every day since—even through the months when he’d have given anything to have forgotten he’d ever met her.

“So what’s next?” he asked. “Where do we go from here?”

Leia’s eyes began to glisten.

“I didn’t have a chance to ask you,” she said, “how did it go today? Did the Falcon pass her spaceworthiness trials?”

“Yeah,” Han replied, ���she can fly. Why? You wanna go somewhere?”

Leia’s lower lip was trembling and a tear fell to her cheek as she brought her hands to his face.

“What if I were to say,” she said, “start your engines, flyboy. Take me to Alderaan; we’ll elope in the palace garden and figure the rest out tomorrow.”

Han leaned in, reached around to pull her face to his and kissed her, hard.

“Not a chance, sweetheart,” he said when he leaned away.

Leia pulled back farther. There was a pit in her stomach and she couln’t think of anything to say. She’d been so sure he’d be on the same page. Having this moment between the two of them had felt like going back in time—she’d been sure he’d gone there with her.

“Han,” she began, trying her damndest to get a hold of the tremor in her voice. She couldn’t help but notice he was still smiling.

Han shook his head.

“Listen sweetheart,” he said, “after everything we’ve all gone through, there is no way we’re going to cheat your mother out of the chance to throw the royal wedding of her dreams. But if you want to go home right now and tell her to start drawing up the guest list….”

Leia leaned forward and kissed him again. Of all the sweet, unexpected things for him to have said, that might have been the sweetest and most unexpected. He’d joked before about wanting a big wedding, but she’d always thought he hadn’t been serious. But if what he wanted was a Royal wedding with all the pomp and circumstance, then that was the least she could give him. She pulled back from the kiss just enough to look him in the eye. She had to catch her breath before giving him her answer. She nodded her head and squeezed his hands as she answered,

“I do.”

THE END

#misfire verse #ashlynn's fic #ever after #the end #sw au #han x leia

[several-teeth-in-an-envelope]

we couldn’t really all do like intros because there’s kinda a lot of us, but i’d kinda be into doing a couple, just for folx who wanna. i’d wanna like draw the art myself though and i have a ~massive~ backlog so that might take a whileee

#DW has Thoughts #f: Ambiguous Miku

[pretty-volatile]

Journal entry

Thursday, June 6th, 2019 1:40am

So I realized I haven't really journaled in a hot minute and I'm trying to keep track of shit so I know what to bring up when I finally see the psychiatrist.

First of all, only 15 more days until my appointment. I'm still self medicating with weed, but my usage varies day to day. Some days I don't need to smoke AS much, some days I need a lot of help, some days I'm okay but I just want to have fun. My tolerance is higher so I can do daytime use without being affected really. I feel it helps with the anger episodes too. It used to teeter between being helpful/unhelpful for when I was feeling down. Sometimes it would make the overthinking worse because it'd be harder to pull myself out. Lately, I've been exploring my emotions more and being high just helps me open up but kind of numbs some of the pain I might experience. It's more of an emotional trip.

Second of all, I really fucked up this quarter. I'm a 4th year college student and I had already accepted that I need longer, but like. I am worried that I might get kicked out lol. I was Subject to Dismissal ever since I failed my entire Winter Quarter 2018. Oops. Then the next quarter I thought I was going to be able to pick shit back up but then I couldn't keep up so I dropped out of the quarter Week 10 (literally the last week of the quarter lolol). Ever since then I've been trying so damn hard to keep school up while my mental health just kept failing me. I'd start out new every new beginning of a quarter and then by Week 4 I'd start falling behind because I just didn't want to do anything. I couldn't. But then there was a time or two that I was able to pick my ass back up and got decent enough grades to go onto the next thing. This quarter started out pretty well. I was on top of shit til about Week 5 or 6 or something. But I fucking finally cracked this quarter. I had started to pick up on some of my habits, and then I looked up Borderline Personality Disorder and I just lost it. I opened the floodgates to some memories that I had forgotten about or blocked out. Everything started to connect and I started to experience trauma on top of present reality. It was TERRIBLE. Still is but like. It was just so overwhelming to recognize things I didn't even know I did or I didn't know that they weren't okay. Then I reached out to my therapist and I was like I think I have BPD. Of course she couldn't diagnose me because she's not a psychiatrist, but she has experience with supper groups for folx with BPD and she has experience with DBT. But she kept bringing up that she thought it was more likely that I have bipolar disorder. I was still set on BPD. Trying to think of all the symptoms that I experience and match with. I was obsessed with proving there was something wrong with me or that I needed help. Part of me was also thinking "There has to be something wrong because if not, then I really am just a piece of shit...." My insomnia has been pretty bad, which the only thing that helps is...you guessed it!....weed. which sometimes it fed into it too so I'd have to smoke so much that I didn't know what the fuck I was doing. I started to accept the possibility of bipolar disorder too and I was trying to pay attention to my mood(s) more too. Since I was aware of the symptoms of BPD and then later on bipolar, I was starting to pick up when a change was starting to happen so I could warn my partner. At one point my mood was like I was starting over again every single day. It'd start out moderately good and then by the end of the night I'd be breaking down crying about how I didn't want to go to bed just to start the whole day over again. During that time it was EXTREMELY hard to pull myself out of my depression/emptiness. Then once that nightmare stopped my mood switched to being hypomanic for about 6 days. Then right when I needed to get my shit together for school, I started to fall again. At first it was a numb "I don't want to do anything, life is dull, what's the point, fuck it". Then I just became really really sad overall. I didn't want to get out of bed or do chores. I didn't go to class. It was just TOO MUCH but like it made me feel like shit because I knew I needed to go.

Oh and all while I was experiencing most of this, my therapist has been away on medical leave since May 17th and the last time that I actually talked to her was yesterday (6/5 @ 1pm) but it was just for a brief 20 minute call. But we'll be able to pick things right back up when she gets back. I only have to wait 11 more days, so that's good.

Oh and my like impulsive behaviors/reckless shit (for me) was like spending money on food outside of groceries way more than I should have....I got a really bad case of the fuck its and I couldn't really say no because if I didn't buy snacks and food that we didn't have to make we wouldn't have eaten (we as in my partner & I) because of my lack of motivation and energy to do anything at all. I got to use my eating disorder as an excuse to feed into my impulses, oops. Oh and of course I'm addicted to smoking cigarettes and like I smoke weed all the fucking time so I guess those could be some other "reckless" behaviors :P I don't really drink much because of my mother's alcoholism and PTSD. I've had tendencies in the past and when I turned 21 I had a bit of a freak out, but now I'm just like. I'll drink if everyone else is too or if it's for a show or if I just wanted some tall can of yummy stuff at home. Otherwise I REALLY prefer being stoned. It lasts longer. There's not really any PTSD associated with it, debatable but still. It helps me get over the anxiety of dealing with people or strangers specifically. Unfamiliar places with a shit ton of people are definitely a trigger for some panic episode or anger episode. I'll turn into a sour bitch for no reason other than that all the people freaked me out that much. I'm very much like I want a whole separate world for my partner & I and our friends so that we don't have to deal with shitty or creepy people....I like people once I get to know them and stuff but otherwise I'm just like SocIalIZing? Psssh ha...no. That also made it difficult to go to class because I got antisocial as fuck. I LOVE going for walks and doing errands while stoned and listening to music, but like...interacting with people? Having attention drawn onto me? Nooooooo thanx.

Finding out the BPD stuff though weirdly helped me to start talking to other humans again? Kind of? I mean it was mostly me like venting or whatever but I was actually talking to people? (Via messaging mostly) lololol the funniest thing is that a fp was the reason I even looked up BPD. I developed a "crush" first and then later I looked up BPD because I was like ya know... I wanna know. I looked it up once before because there was a time that we thought my mom had BPD. Come to find out, she had bipolar instead. But I remember the first time I looked it up I was like "ha! Some of these symptoms/signs are personally calling me out" but I was mostly looking at it to understand my mom so I wasn't really thinking about myself that much. Plus when I looked it up first, I was still disassociating pretty bad that I wasn't entirely aware of what I was doing or how I was feeling. But when I looked it up the second time... literally EVERYTHING or just about everything that was coming up was exactly how I was feeling or how I have felt in the past. Then I found out about the Favorite Person thing and I was like oof, that's some...that's some shit right there. I still have to sort out what relationships/crushes were actually crushes or just a fp thing that eventually faded away into me not talking to them anymore. That was really fun to admit to my fp that they were the reason I looked up BPD. Lol but we did have a good conversation and like I tried to talk to other people that either understood second hand or first hand. Another person I talked to has BPD, and the other already has mental health issues and his fiance has BPD (so they both understand). Found I am/was an fp to another person that I apparently inspired him to finally go get the help he needs, but like he just had to fuck it up recently by bringing up a touchy subject. I can only imagine how angry or upset he is with me for not responding, which is also why I don't want to answer because I'm too scared with that kind of pressure of being someone's fp 😭😓🙈🙊 sorry bud....just had to bring up something that happened to be a touchy topic 😅

Lately I've really been trying to use music to get me through shit again. Back in high school all I would do at home was stay up, listen to music, draw, write poetry, watch movies, stay up on my phone or laptop. And I was creative as fuck! I've been trying to listen to old music, which also helped me realized just how much help I need(ed) because of how much I would relate to this music and this music was like really deep and really...just it was concerning that is as so young and connecting with what these adults are singing about. It also helped unlock memories. unlocked old feelings. Lots of drifting. But now my music listening is a little more controlled and I used to go on these emotional trips full of memories and just letting myself get swept off into it. I probably can only do this successfully since I eventually said fuck it to the rest of this quarter. (I saved one class but uh unless my professors can make my BPD/bipolar go away then there's nothing we can do.) But like the emotional trips have been really therapeutic for me honestly. Sometimes I feel a little "aw fuck that's all I did today, oops". But other than that it's been helpful. I was also able to draw! I've done like 3 drawings within the like past week ish. Which is more than I thought I'd be able to do. For the longest time I was so blocked off from my emotions and thoughts, I'd feel like drawing but once I sat down it was hard to start it or finish it. Or I'd be able to do like 1 good one every few months. Back in high school I was constantly drawing and even into the beginning of college, but once I started disassociating it was like bye bye creative motivation. Obviously I don't want to take advantage of this burst of creative motivation but like it feels REALLY good. I eventually want to get back into poetry too. I'm actually an art hoe, but when I disassociated I like had no drive to document anything nor the mental capacity/awareness to connect the dots. Which really cramped on me being artsy because my whole art experience is fluid, just let it take me where I need to go. I did some poetry within the last year though. Mainly relating to addiction/alcoholism/insomnia. I'm very much an emotional set type person. It's almost always centered around a feeling or situation that invokes feelings/thoughts.

Okay that's even impressive that I got this much of journaling done, but I think I should stop now. This is long enough and now my thoughts are just kinda scattered and I'm too tired to keep coming back to any points I'm making. This was meant to just be a check in but it turned into like a full on documentation of how I've been feeling or whatever. Whew exhausted. Maybe I'll jot shit down again later after I reread my post later. Goodnight for now ✌

#bpd #borderline personality disorder #bipolar #bipolar ii #bipolar disorder ii #bipolar disorder #eating disorder #insomnia #weed #journal entry #depression #anxiety #hypomania

[bluedragondoodles]

lol I'm not gonna be able to catch up in Smaugust! I could, theoretically, but I'm just not motivated. I wanna draw other stuff. So that's what I'm gonna do xD sorry folx, guess that just means I have a goal for next year!

#not art

[jfpark]

WW/WS, 2 Oct 17

For a few weeks now I’ve had the ambition to blog about the weekly writing workshop I facilitate (Writing with world stuff, WW/WS)—well here goes.

Early this afternoon I emailed my fellow writers:

hi folx, looking forward to seeing you this evening. i don’t have the prompt together yet, but i know [what] i’m bringing for discussion: science fiction; what would [a] scifi poem would be?; a passage from samuel delany’s essay “to read the dispossessed” and a passage from delany’s story “aye and gommorah.” i encourage you, if you have time, to try to read the story before this evening. it’s ~12pages. i’m bringing paper copies. see you tonight, julian ps - thought i sent this this morning…

Later in the day, earlier this evening, after being reminded by  one writer—who emailed me that they wouldn’t be able to attend—I replied to the thread with the following two messages detailing tonight’s prompt:

1.

for those unable to attend—the prompt, pending adjustments by folx in attendance & convo:

read “aye and gommorah.” or at least the first three pages, as we’ll do in group tonight.

then check out pgs 273-276 of the delany essay i linked (those are rough, could read back a lil earlier/continue on a lil further if you wanted). what you’re looking for is delany’s point that what makes science fiction distinct is the technique of “inmixing.” (lemme know if you wanna chat about that, the essay is pretty difficult at moments)

look back at a&g and think about how/where delany is using inmixing.

this next part may be fun to try with a friend. delany describes, in those essay pages, inmixing at the level of term, sentence, and plot. with a friend (that may just be you), or a group of friends / writing comrades, come up with at least one, possibly several, but probably not many, inmixed terms, sentences, and plots. using this/these term(s), sentence(s), plot(s): write a piece of science fictional narrative that may or may not be in prose.

2.

oh yeah! note how in delany’s story what emerges isn’t only a representation of a familiar social structure made strange (eg queer subcultures & their overlap with sex work & other marginalized forms of labor), but through inmixing opens up entirely new social questions (what unique relations do spacers & frelks have?). how can you use scifi inmixing not only to think about questions you may have about our societies, but also to imagine the questions other societies might deal with too?

As nearly always occurs, when we got together, the plan started to shift. Most substantially, one regular group attendee—whom last week facilitated an excellent session drawing readings and prompts from Ronaldo V. Wilson’s book Farther Traveler—showed up after a number of us had already started reading the Delany story. One approach to responding to folk’s different reading paces that I first tried a few weeks ago came in useful tonight: ask folks to start writing something once they finish reading. This has the additional benefit of knowing when people could be ready to move on to the next planned (lol, planned; extemporized is more like it most of the time) section. Today, I asked folks to begin making a list when they were done reading not just the first several pages of the story, but also the relevant pages of the essay.

Someone asked, “of anything?”

“Yes,” I said.

Before we got to talking about Delany’s concept of scifi as tied to a particular manner of “inmixing,” we shared our lists in a clock-wise circuit. Then we chatted about inmixing, and I emphasized Delany’s intervention, that scifi does not simply literarily innovate so as to estrange a given set of social relations (though interesting on this point is his 1994 commentary on “Aye and Gommorah,” included at the end of the linked copy above).

Having gotten a little more comfortable with inmixing as a way of conceiving scifi literary practice, thanks to an excellent interpretation offered by the already referred to late-coming attendee, we then each selected two words from our lists. Then, from our new list of words, we inmixed to form two phrases, two sentences, and two plots, from which we would each draw at least one of each, for our own writing in the last half of our session.

This is the whiteboard of our list, phrases, sentences, and plots.

For easier reading, the word list:

• fingernails

• scrolling

• passport

• eyemask

• horror

• seconds

• years

• iCloud

• underwear

• plastic bag

• disk player

• aerated

The phrases:

• aerated underwear

• horror passport

The sentences:

• I use my scrolling eyemask to stay connected at night.

• I sponged the iCloud from my fingernails.

The plots:

• How do you make “the disk player years” not about time travel or the 90s?

• They served seconds of the plastic bag.

With those elements for prompting, I drafted the beginning of a story.

The Disk Player Years

Lately, I’ve had a hard time staying up late enough to feel like I’d gotten my media-fill; I use my scrolling eyemask to stay connected at night. Honestly, it’s not quite the same to have programmed visions while dreaming as while awake, but it feels something like what USAmericans must have felt in the early 21st Century when the first wave of attempts to substitute nicotine vaporizers for cigarettes were made.

Yesterday, I got hella full before climbing into my bunk, so no eyemask necessary. Blasted through the Toons Top 40—I was working from dorm, so it was easy. I don’t often work from dorm, since my Inc takes the stance that media-filling reduces productivity, but I called in sick for the second time this quarter, & they req that after the 1st sickout all subsequent sickouts log a minimum of 10 hours.

I heard back in those first vape days—the ones I mentioned before—that people estimated the trend would continue toward more and more of the population working from dorm. That was before The Great Management Debates of the mid-21st Century led to a restructuring of global societies’ class fractures—between those Incs that thought media-fulfillment promoted productivity and those that thought it undercut it. Since this Debates Incs like mine only allow music to be eaten by those in their employ while at the office. So began The Disk Player Years.

#writing #writers #poets #poetry #poets on tumblr #science fiction #scifi #writing with world stuff #samuel r. delany #samuel delany #omni commons #writing workshop #emails

[hersmilingeyes]

I'm upset but

When I recap my day, there’s nothing to be upset about bc it was a fucking nice day

Except here I am

I woke up at my friend’s house at like 7am and drove my other friend home

We both left w our La Croixs, which doesn’t look right plural but there was more than one La Croix and they were peach pear

Ok, I gotta say it, peach pear is fucking 2/3 of a Joanna Newsom song so just add plum already bc that’s obvi what’s missing and then you can play the song fer that really specific commercial fer the really specific drink yer marketing and maybe that will satisfy me

But there’s more

I go home and sleep some more

Bc I can

Even better

Then I make myself a fabulous breakfast and COFFEE IN A FRENCH PRESS.

I sweeten it w HONEY

I take a quick shower and have just enough time to throw on a tee shirt and underpants

Then, my lover comes over fer coffee in bed and she looks so good since she was at the farm

She’s brighter and bronzer and just determined as ever

She’s wearing a muscle shirt and a tiny vest and I’m like melting bc she’s such a Fucking babe

She tells me about her world, she shares it w me, and I’m just in awe about all the things she can do // is doing

After about an hr of talking, she asks me if we are gonna cuddle or what and I fucking stumble w my words bc yes and of course and holy shit

I learn she is no longer stripping rn and I honestly wrote about it later on bc I had to process my happiness w her

I needed to write about how she listens to ramps and finds comfort in moss under her feet,

how she belongs no where to no one but she is connected to everything

She’s rooted and reaching

She is the water she seeks to grow

And we kiss and we make a date to go to Planned Parenthood together bc we’re responsible and I massage weird parts of her body that might be sore from being on the farm

But she says she’s still sore from stripping actually and the farm was real chill this time around

I try to keep up with her worlds but I decide to focus on the moment, on her teres muscles which I’ve been finding are really tight on most folx which is why I decided to work on hers

I really want to totally touch her boobs but decide now is not the time bc I have to work soon and that’s not cool fer either of us

I just lay on her chest and listen to her

It’s not that I didn’t have anything to say, I just wanted to listen

I missed her, she was sad when I last saw her, and so I was sad, too, in that way that one cannot help but feel the sadness of someone dear to them.

I carried it, too.

I feel hopeful fer what’s to come, fer her and me, and I drop her off before I go to work

I write about her at work, then i write an outline fer the blog I’m working on fer work

The New Moon just happened, so I frame it from that.

I also draw inspiration from how i left work at a toxic job, and now my lover has, too.

We’ve reclaimed ourself in our own ways.

I almost finish the Time magazine from the future (now a few days old)

I learn about Margaret Atwood and A Handmaids Tale, and I decide I need to read it before I see the show.

I do half a cross word; I’ve been mighty productive this shift but I’m eager to get off.

I have a vm from a work manager, so I call back bc I love my job and I feel v protective over it

I can’t help but get paranoid whenever work people call, I always think I’m in trouble

There are rarely bad things and mainly good things, and t'day was no different

My manager thinks I’m a strong worker and she’s taken to me

I call her my Morpheus bc she kinda is.

We get all of our biz outta the way in the first 10min but I’ve managed to meet somebody who talks as much as I do, if not more.

I try not to get annoyed w myself

But I can’t help but get annoyed just bc it’s my wind down time and I wanna wind down w my friends

Except she’s praising me really highly and telling me stories and I know that this isn’t all fer me, it’s fer her, too.

So I listen on.

And I’m sitting outside of my friend’s house and then I’m walking and I’m trying to politely wrap up but I don’t know how bc she’s clearly trying to convey something to me and I’m like that child that’s too antsy to sit and listen

She’s telling me real shit about myself and I’m in it, you know?

She tells me all this shit I need to hear bc I certainly don’t tell myself often enough

Like how I minimize the work I do and the impact it has on people

Or how I tend to downplay my talents

Or even just rule myself out of nice things

And I can’t tell if I’m doing it that very moment by staying on the phone or not so I’m annoyed by the juxtaposition of it all bc yes, I do these things but it’s not like I mean to or I’m not trying to quit

All the sudden, I’m feeling all the efforts I put in as far as building myself and someone I look up to is telling me I’m shining, I’m Fucking shining

And it’s too much, it’s overwhelming

My eyes start welling up on my friend’s porch after sitting outside fer an hr bc my manager is randomly telling me I’m doing a good job yet all i wanna do is be w my friend’s and not think about any work

I just came out of work where I did two jobs worth and processed my life on top of it plus half a crossword

All I wanted to do was wind down w my friends

That’s all I wanted

But I always get so much more and sometimes I don’t even know what to do w it all bc I don’t always know how to contain them, let alone coexist w them

And I missed everything

I missed everything bc a voice on a phone was telling me what I needed to hear to feel like all the work I’m doing is worth it

But it is, bc I know

I don’t always know why my clients come back but they do and I honor them each time I see them

I don’t always know what I do good but it works out

And Morpheus was trying to tell me what it is that makes me special and I just wanted wine and to kiss my lover and to hug my friends

And I was frustrated bc I know I’m special but I don’t always know why or how, I didn’t know why we were talking about me so much

She was trying to convey something and I am v clearly struggling w it or not ready

I’m not meaning to sell myself short or anything I just can’t wrap my head around why I wasn’t able to do the thing I planned on doing tonight

Why tnight, yknow, to tell me all this about me?

Why was it so important to tell me all this?

I’m upset bc there is no reason to be upset besides being derailed and sitting outside fer an hour.

I’m upset bc my success is like a fucking secret life I don’t know how to share v well.

My family doesn’t hear this, and they're the ones who need to; it’s just not the same from me

I don’t get a lot of grown ups praising me like Morpheus was and it’s no wonder I both want to listen and to shake them off

It’s not v often I get a grownup who understands the work I do, we do, and praises me fer it

I am so used to working anonymously and letting my work speak of my earnest efforts

I’m upset bc I work so hard and barely know how to feel proud of myself fer it without first taking myself down a notch about the things I could do // could do better.

Which is everything, but that’s everybody and that’s also v subjective

I am upset bc I wanted to New Moon w my friends but I was on a work related phone call fer an hr instead and I already work a lot

My time is precious and my friends are precious and whether or not it mattered to them, it mattered to me.

And I was upset bc no amount of working proves anything but yer too Fucking busy to spend time doing other things that matter to you

Like spending time w yer loved ones

I’m upset bc my dad worked all the time and I told myself I’d be more present bc that’s just as important if not more

I’m upset bc I don’t feel like I’m fulfilling that promise even though I had a great day overall but it didn’t end like I planned and I was just tired of waiting

Bc sometimes I feel like I’m always waiting fer my turn to do what I want and then my turn never comes

And it doesn’t feel fair bc what I want feels so simple

But it never really is

I just wanted to share time w my friends bc it was wind down time and I was done working.

And I’m really upset about it bc it’s like I’m never done working sometimes

Then I get so crabby I need to be alone bc that’s not how I want to spend time w folx I love

Even when they are sweet n call me to check in n shit like

I need to take a fucking trip