#if you have enough experiences and listen to enough people and interact with enough art | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mojoflower · 1 year

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So You Want to Tumbl?

There are lots of newcomers here these days, and I thought I'd spell out how to begin and what it means to ‘curate your own dash’ for folks who haven't grown along with Tumblr for the past decade.

If you're coming from a platform where content is fed to you, Tumblr can seem barren and intimidating in the beginning. But that's actually a good thing! What it means is that you will see what you want to. If you're in a fighting mood, go find political discourse. If you're feeling fragile, make your dash nothing but art and nature.

How to begin?

You’ve made your blog and picked out your icon (seriously, choose an icon: otherwise you’re indistinguishable from bots). Feel free to be anonymous. Most of us are, and it’s wonderful to have a place that’s not tied to your Real Life. Here you can be a fandom freak (like me!) and no one judges you and your boss will never find out.

Now seek out tags that interest you. For example, I was just looking through #moss because I like peace and green things and old-growth forests. (And, apparently, beautifully naked fae-men, heh.)

Now you follow that tag (if it's a popular tag, it'll say how many followers the tag has, which is beneficial to know if you're making a post that you want to reach all its interested audience) and posts with that tag automatically fill your dash. Voila, you have begun to curate your experience!

Do Follow: tags; blogs in that tag that you like; people who comment on posts in the blog/tag you follow that seem like they’re up your alley. The more people you follow, the more varied and nuanced your dash is.

Don’t Follow: people who make comments or posts that raise your blood pressure. Topics that upset you. Discourse that has you arguing in your head for the rest of the day. PLEASE avoid toxicity. Real Life is hard enough.

How to be Social and Interact

If you want to find your tribe and interact, it’s best to start following individual blogs. (If you follow a blog, they have an opportunity to follow you back. Simply following a tag is a passive, one-way street.) To Tumbl is to be in a vast cocktail party, and you need to mingle and eavesdrop to find the things that galvanize you.

How to be seen and heard

💬Comment on posts (please always stay positive and enthusiastic: we really try to avoid toxicity). You can read other comments (and reblogged comments) by clicking on the notes:

🔁Reblog posts you like, both to show your support and to show other people what kind of things get you excited. Reblogging is essential to the tumblr ecosystem, because it’s the only way posts move around and get seen. You can also “like” posts, but that's a much more passive way to interact. Also, reblogs and your own original posts show up on your blog and prove that you're not a bot.

Create your own posts and remember that the first 20 tags you use are essential, because that’s what gets you seen (and followed) by strangers. Tags 21-30 are good for searching and archiving on your own blog, but they don’t count on the dash. Instructions on how to Make A Post.

Participate! Once you find your crowd, you’ll discover that there are always things going on. For example, in fandoms, we’ve got writing events, art events, crafting and cons. The more you try to be involved, the more new friends you’ll discover. Tumblr allows for such an organic community. One person has a thought, and many others build on that thought, creating something far greater than the sum of its parts.

There is no real algorithm beyond using those first 20 tags. This may be discouraging to folks who are used to working an algorithm, but we like it fine here, because it keeps everyone real and keeps obnoxious social climbers/capitalists out of your face.

Be patient! Just like in real life, when you find yourself in a crowd of people you don’t know, it takes a while to form connections. Watch and listen, and learn to read the room. Honestly, the thing that will win you the most friends/followers is honest enthusiasm about your space.

Don’t aim for the big names to become your new buddies. You’re more likely to find a thriving coterie among other fresh faces. Don’t assume that because they’re small or new they have nothing to offer you. Often, this is the fire that keeps any given corner of Tumblr going.

Tumblr Etiquette

NEVER REPOST (without explicit permission). Reposting is when you cut and paste from someone else’s content and then make it into a brand new post under your own blog name. That is stealing and is very condemned. Reblogging is when you use 🔁and the OP (original poster) remains attached to their post and continues to see and be in charge of interactions.

Reblog in addition to Liking. A post that you 'like' is static. You are not helping it to get to a broader audience. If the post or poster is something/someone you support, then REBLOG that sucker: it deserves to fly!

Reblog and add your own content. One of the best parts of Tumblr is that you can comment on a post, or even add to it in your reblog (as long as you’re not being a dick, okay? Or changing the topic, which is known as ‘hijacking a post’). Here is a wonderful example of the Tumblr ecosystem at work, where someone had a thought, other people had thoughts about that thought, and then a bunch of artists jumped in. Tumblr posts BUILD COMMUNITY, and you can be a part of that conversation. (Do try to refrain from reblogging with vacuous comments just because you want people to notice you rather than because you actually have something to add, though. That’s just clutter.)

The most important part of “curating your experience” is learning to Block.

You can block individual blogs, Anons, people in the comments that you find upsetting. Here's a post on How to Block.

Block entire tags or keywords if they are triggers for you. (Here is a post on how to do that.)

Blocking is self-care. It is not a platform to demonstrate to the community how much you hate someone and how they should, too. Usually the blocked person never even knows you’ve blocked them. If they do something egregious (like tell you or someone else to kill themselves), then ‘Report’ them.

You can block something (like #US Politics) if you can’t handle it at the moment, and then unblock it later. Block a friend if they’re spamming something you don’t like and then unblock them later. It’s all good! You are in control of what shows up on your dash.

But doesn’t this mean my dash will be single-topic and boring?

The simultaneous joy and pitfall in following individuals is that MANY blogs are not single-topic. You will be exposed to all kinds of reblogs/ideas/other people from the folks you chose to follow, and can decide for yourself if you (a) want to be involved in that topic, (b) are indifferent to that topic, or (c) want to run from it screaming.

Also, the blogs you follow will move from hobby/theme/passion over time, and you can move with them, appreciate their new topic without vibing with it, or drop them altogether.

And THIS is how you curate your dash, my friends.

***Install New XKit extension. It’ll make your life easier!

***Here's the Tumblr Help Center, where you can learn more details.

#welcome to tumblr #new users #tumblr #tumblr etiquette #tumblr tips #how to tumbl #mojo muses #twitter refugees #long post

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eleanor-bradstreet · 6 months

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Chiaroscuro - Part 3 (Benedict Bridgerton x Reader)

Benedict Bridgerton x fem!Reader Vampire AU Rated/warnings: G - none Word count: 2.6k Art by @bridgertontess

Part 2 Part 4 Masterpost

Fortunately, your job didn’t currently require much interaction with people. Since organizing the museum’s latest nighttime exhibition, you had fallen into a lull of cataloging works in the basement storage rooms and catching up on paperwork. It was a mercy, because if you had been forced to make smalltalk with coworkers you would have inevitably snapped and blubbered out all of the fear and anxiety and rage that was held just at bay behind your fake smile. But there was no one to prod you for your life updates today. Just you and the artworks in the softly lit facilities under the exhibition halls. Ballerinas and olive trees and moon-faced youths, going on about their antiquated business as you carefully inspected and sorted them with gloved hands. They invited your company without requiring any interaction, which made them the best companions of all.

You knew your shift was over when the music began to waft down from above, classical string covers of modern pop songs. This had been your idea. It seemed to match the goal of the events you had planned for the museum, drawing the cool young crowds of the city into proximity with the old works of the greats. Everything, even boring old Neoclassicism, became sexier at night especially when coupled with cocktails and a decent playlist. By charging the yuppies an inflated ticket price in exchange for a tipple and Van Gogh projections dancing across the walls, your events had been a boon to the museum and became a point of pride for yourself.

You could have gone home but decided that sitting alone with your thoughts wouldn’t lead to anything productive. Not when you were still so raw. You were already out, you might as well make the most of it and survey how your event was being received. If nothing else it was time you could spend with the paintings, all of those works that you loved and had memorized over your years of curation. You didn’t have much time left to enjoy them, a knowledge that filled you with equal parts panic and despair. You needed to start absorbing them as best you could, creating a new gallery in your mind that you hoped you would be able to navigate as deftly as the physical one where you had built your career.

Swiping a cocktail from a tray you moved through the exhibition halls, normally so brightly lit but now starkly shadowed, with the grandeur of the gilded frames leering out against fuchsia, purple and blue uplighting. The same colors as your hyacinths, you reminded yourself. Attendance was high with clusters of visitors to be found in every corner and hallway, balancing wine glasses and meandering in chic office wear. You felt a weight dragging in your core as you started to mourn the experiences you already knew you would lose. Then you recognized a silhouette, someone standing alone by a large landscape. It was Ben.

This wasn’t entirely a shock. In fact, you had seen him at several of your nighttime exhibitions before. Everything you knew about him was starting to piece together. A man of fine tastes, wealthy and invested in poetry, wine and art. You had never approached him when you saw him at your previous events and weren’t even sure if he knew you worked at the museum. Each time he was present he was surrounded by people. He seemed to exude a kind of magnetism, with visitors gravitating to hear his insights and banter. You never got close enough to hear the full conversation but could tell he was both captivating and witty given how keenly everyone listened to him and how often they laughed. How a man walked around with such qualities and looked the way he did without someone (or several people) on his arm, was a mystery to you. But tonight for the first time, you saw him by himself.

It was almost as if fate had put him directly in your path, granting you an easy opportunity to thank him for his act of kindness earlier that day. Circumstances had been cruel to you lately so you wouldn’t question this happy turn. You walked over, noting how perfectly the shadows cut against his jaw and brow. He was dangerously handsome and you chastised yourself again for not trying to get to know him sooner.

“Ben!” Your faux smile came a little easier as you greeted him.

He turned, blue-grey eyes lighting with recognition. “Hello!” His crooked grin made something inside you ache.

“It’s good to see you here.”

“Well, I’m grateful the museum has these events so the rest of us can get a little culture when we can’t fit it into daylight hours.”

You felt yourself blushing, pleased that he appreciated something you had designed though he couldn’t have known it was you. You hoped the lighting would hide your reaction. “Thank you for the wine,” you blurted out. “That really was too generous of you.”

“It seemed you could have used it more than me.” His shoulders angled toward you as he honed in, focused on you alone. You felt the whole room quiet as you became the object of his attention. Now you understood how he seemed to carry his own gravity. Just meeting his gaze made it hard to breathe. Something witty might help you from drowning.

“It appears we have similar taste in both wine and art.” You raised your brows and gestured to the large Turner canvas that you stood beside.

He followed your eyes, admired the landscape once again, then smirked at you. “Please, I cannot compete with your sense of taste. Not when you work here.”

So he did know. Your look of surprise spurred him on.

“Word gets around the building,” he shrugged. “And I’ve seen you here.”

You couldn’t fathom that he had always been within such close reach, seeing you across rooms the same way you had seen him, and it had taken you this damn long to say something. Now, when you had less than nothing to offer and no time to enjoy it, of course this was when you started speaking to the most beautiful man you had ever met. “I’ve seen you too,” you gave him a small smile. “You like the night exhibits.”

He continued looking at the landscape, shrugging again. “It’s when I have free time.” Before you could ask him what he did for a living and finally solve the enduring mystery, he continued. “So, are you the curator for the whole museum, or…”

“Nineteenth century Anglo-European art. Still a broad swath.” You nodded around at the wing you stood in, the showcase of your years of meticulous planning, negotiating and staging. An expression of yourself. A small legacy that you hoped others would enjoy even when you were no longer able to.

“Any favorites?” His eyes glinted as he crossed his arms, eager to test you. You knew he understood art, a rare skill among the public. You could already sense what a lovely companion he would make, someone engaging to debate and analyze pieces with.

You were compelled to state the obvious, flicking your eyes back to the painting beside you. “Well, Turner.”

He nodded in agreement. “Of course.”

You began to lead him through the hall, weaving around guests, steering him toward your favorite sections of the wing. You stopped in a corner and nodded at the spread of frames before you. “Leighton.”

Ben’s brow turned up in consternation and he stuck out his bottom lip in an adorable little frown. “I heard he was a bit of a prick.”

You had never read that in all your years of study but he said it with so much conviction, it made you chuckle. He smiled wryly at your reaction. Oh, he was cheeky.

Continuing your tour you brought him to your most beloved section, a quiet, off-set room that had grown to feel like your second home. You had lost countless hours sitting on its lone bench planning the arrangement and lighting of the pieces within, trying to ensure that visitors felt as transported by the array of rich landscapes and still lifes as you did.

“And Bridgerton,” you said with reverence, spreading your arms to showcase the dedicated space. “Did you know, we have his entire collection here?”

Something in Ben’s eyes grew incredibly soft, everything about his demeanor warmed. He must have been a fan too, though he wasn’t looking at any of the paintings. He was looking directly at you. “I did know that.”

You smiled, sensing a connection forming, something that may give you a reason to keep speaking to this man who was so clearly out of your league. “He fascinates me the most, I think.”

Ben cocked his head. “Why is that?”

“Because so little is known about him,” you sighed. “It’s rather tragic. He had this beautiful body of work and then when he was still young, he just sort of disappeared. No one knows what happened to him. His family said he went abroad. They published the diary he left behind but it just ends abruptly one day.”

You slowly walked the perimeter of the room as you narrated, taking in the pieces. They had always felt like a puzzle to you, like the clues to Bridgerton’s disappearance could be found in their layers and hues if you simply looked hard enough, or arranged them in a particular pattern. Of course you hadn’t discovered anything, but the preservation of the work felt vital. Perhaps you had always felt so protective of this collection above all others because it showcased the vibrance of a life that was so suddenly and unceremoniously flung into darkness. You were the custodian of all that was left of the man whose talent you so admired.

Ben moved with you, one step behind. “You’ve read his diary?”

You nodded. “He seems to have been a very insightful man. Something of a poet too. Very talented. But better at landscapes than self portraits. All we have is a messy little sketch from his diary.”

Ben’s face twisted adorably in befuddlement. If he was allowed to call Leighton a prick, you certainly were going to be honest with your opinions too. Smiling, you guided him over to a piece you had hung in a place of prominence.

“This is my favorite landscape of his, Dreams in Kent. Look at the use of color.” You floated a finger over the lines of the hilly horizon, dotted with points of blues, purples and whites, sprays of wildflowers in the rich, windswept grass.

Ben folded his arms and furrowed his brow, clearly unswayed by your enthusiasm. “Looks like he had a hard time getting the lines right. The perspective is a bit off.”

“I think the skew is intentional. It lends dreaminess.”

He shrugged. “Maybe. Or maybe the poor bastard just didn’t measure well.”

“You have an eye for details.” Your voice probably came out too breathy but you couldn’t help it. You were marveling at him. He turned and flashed his devastating smirk again. He seemed like the embodiment of everything that was lacking in your life: warmth and good humor, honesty and playfulness. Just looking at him had always made your throat tighten but being this close, getting to know his kind nature and how much you had in common just when it was too late to enjoy, it made you want to scream. Tears began to roll down your cheeks and you turned away, moving to sit on the bench.

“Are you alright?” His voice was full of concern as he sat down beside you. You were grateful there were no other visitors in the room. You hardly felt embarrassed in front of him anymore, not since he saw you blubbering in the lift just the day before. You knew you were safe to confess your problems to him.

“Sorry, it’s…” You fought your shuddering breaths. “This is why I needed the wine.” You laughed weakly, staving off the full hysterics threatening beneath the surface. “I got bad news yesterday. My vision. Exceptional as you can already see.” You gestured to the thick lenses you wore. “I’m losing it.” With a deep inhale, you looked up and scanned the art around you. “I won’t be able to see any of this anymore. I’ll have to leave this job. My life will just…” A solitary sob cut you off. Your face was hot, both with tears and your failing attempts to clamp down your sorrow. “I’m going to fade away. Just like Bridgerton, I suppose. Though I don’t know, we can at least hope he got a happy ending.”

Ben settled a hand on your shoulder. “I’m so sorry. Life can be incredibly cruel.” Coming from anyone else’s lips this would have sounded like an empty platitude, but he left you with no doubt of his sincerity.

“And ironic,” you scoffed, indulging in your anger. “Of all the things to take from someone in the visual arts.”

After a beat, he spoke again. “Do you have any interest in pottery? Something tactile?” You turned and saw his sarcastic grin, which he dropped immediately. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me, I shouldn’t be making fun…”

The laughter rose out of you like a wave of relief. Finding yourself in such a terrible position, it felt impossible not to acknowledge the absurdity of it all. “No,” you shook your head, “thank you, I needed that.” The smile returned and your burden felt a little lighter. You were grateful for the levity. You began wiping the tears from your cheeks. “Look at me, sitting here crying like a fool.”

“You would only be a fool if you didn’t let me have my Patrick Swayze moment and help you with your pottery.” Squeezing your shoulder, he playfully bumped against your side.

“If I recall, he destroyed what she was working on.” You quipped back.

“Oh, you know I have more respect for artwork than that. You could trust me.”

You met his eyes, impossibly earnest and mischievous simultaneously. His hand was heavy on your shoulder, his body nearly pressed against yours. You didn’t know if he was just pitying his poor, strange neighbor or legitimately flirting with you but you embraced it either way. At the very least, perhaps you had found a friend.

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping low. “If I know anything, it’s that things are almost always a matter of perspective. At a certain point, life can start to seem like a series of losses and nothing more. But those losses thrust us into circumstances where we are forced to discover new things to take their place. There is always something left to hold onto, usually something unexpected.”

You let his words sink in, understanding the magic he seemed to cast upon the museum crowds. If this was how he consoled a neighbor, you couldn’t imagine how insightful he would be when seriously discussing art. You wanted to kiss him, feeling a nearly irresistible pull toward his lips, but held back. Not only was that entirely inappropriate in your workplace but you didn’t want to misinterpret what he was offering you. You didn’t want to ruin the chance for a friendship that might endure through everything that laid ahead. So you smirked, making a joke as a friend would.

“Perspective, hmm? Maybe you could have taught Bridgerton a thing or two.”

His eyes lit up and he turned back to the landscape with a broad smile. “Perhaps I could have.”

Tagging: @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky @colettebronte @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @mysticwitchcraftco @suspendingtime @faye-tale

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x you #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x y/n #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton imagine #female reader #vampire au #romance #angst #happy halloween

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misslavenderlady · 9 months

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MONSTER MANIA CON POST!!

This weekend was an absolute dream come true! Everything I had hoped and dreamed for my very first convention. And I'm incredibly grateful that I got to be there with @ghoulgeousimmaculate @bloodsuckingfiends & @silvermaplealder (and his friend Jess). Everyone was so kind and fun to be around. I'll give the rundown of who I met in this post and I'll add another post later on with more pictures!

💜💜💜

The first day Ghoulie and I checked in early and got all dolled up to meet Alex Winter first. I got both an autograph and a photo op with him. He seemed a little tired/out of it and I assume that's because he JUST got back from the U.K. and went straight to the convention. His photo op was super quick and I was only able to pose next to him, not with him.

But still, he was super cool and was very happy when I told him how I introduced my fiancé to the Bill & Ted trilogy. I also showed him an art commission I requested of Ricky Coogan! He was a nice dude overall 😄

The second day Maple and I dressed up as David and Michael! I even got the honor of doing his makeup to make the cosplay extra authentic. He gave me some of his amazing, homemade stickers as a "thank you"! He was hands down the best looking David cosplayer in the whole convention.

I got to get an autograph from Heather Langenkamp before doing a selfie with her. I was the last one to see her before she left for photo ops. She was an absolute delight! I talked about listening to her episode on the Dead Meat podcast and we had a bonding moment over that. When I posed with her, I did a peace sign and she copied the pose.

Then she said "that's such a coincidence because I wear THIS every day!" and she pulled out a necklace with a peace sign charm. She was just so delightful 😊

Billy was an absolute dream. He has the most warm, caring look in his eyes and was very interested when I talked about how The Lost Boys got me back into writing. I was getting a little emotional, and I could tell he was on standby if I needed some help.

I had a photo op with him later, but I paid an extra $10 for a selfie with him. My hand was trembling from my nervousness and he was kind enough to hold it steady so I could take the picture. He made sure I was comfortable the whole time I interacted with him. 🥰

Also, I picked out a picture of Paul and Dwayne to be signed as a way to honor Brooke. When Billy saw it he said "awww I love this pic! 🥺" I was fighting tears ngl.

Kiefer was an incredible guy!! I decided just to do a photo op and not an autograph because people were lining up at 3 IN THE DAMN MORNING and I wasn't about to do that lol. He loved the outfits that Ghoulie and Maple wore, and it was such a delight seeing his smile. He was so kind with me. Very welcoming and didn't hesitate to shake my hand or wrap an arm around me for our picture! I think he was still is a great mood after seeing Maples perfect cosplay lol

The last celeb I met was Jason, and I gotta say, I think he was my favorite. Jordyn wasn't exaggerating when she said he was so nice. He was by far the kindest person I met at the whole convention (and that's saying something considering everyone was a delight to meet). I felt like he truly cared about meeting every single fan and was genuinely listening with interest when I told him the story of how @michael-after-hours got his name from Michael Emerson.

When I tell you his face LIT UP when he saw my cosplay. He was so overjoyed and it made me even happier to be dressed as Michael. The joyful energy was just so infectious. 🥰

I'm so incredibly lucky to have met all of these wonderful icons in horror. They truly did care about their fans and made the whole experience extra special. I would do it all again in a heartbeat if I could.

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

TAG LIST

@hypocriticaltypwriter @ria-coolgirl @fallingthruspace @silvermaplealder @britany1997 @leiasolo77 @starlahuskyz @vampirefilmlover @charlizekkelly @charlottieellis @ghoulgeousimmaculate @michael-after-hours @legal-lost-boy @unethicallysourced @auntvamp

#lavender lady rambles #monster mania con #the lost boys #tlb #kiefer sutherland #jason patric #alex winter #billy wirth #heather langenkamp

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goodluckclove · 22 days

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A Tip for Interacting With Young Artists in Your Field: Please, be normal.

As an ex-prodigy (as adults so often described me), I cannot count the amount of times people have looked at my writing after learning my age and responded with abject amazement. Like wow, you wrote this? That's amazing! I consider people younger than me to automatically have less life experience and therefore no capability to move or challenge me through art!

That's...not a compliment? It's not a cool thing to be told that you're good for your age. Especially if you're planning to go professional at some point.

What I would've loved more than anything when I was just starting to seriously write at 15-18 was for someone to disregard my age entirely and just treat me as a colleague. Boundaries in terms of social interactions are all well and good, but when it comes to art it shouldn't matter how old you are. I'm reading works by high schoolers that exceed the quality of writing produced by MFA graduates. That doesn't mean it can't improve. We're all always improving. That just means that where you are in life has little bearing on how seriously you should be taken as a writer.

There are ways in which age plays a role in writing and in art, but from my experience that's in subject matter. What they know and what they don't. But guess what buster, that same problem applies to everyone sometimes.

Do you have a chance to interact with a young writer? Take it! Assuming you aren't a fucking creep, we have a lot to learn from a modern perspective and alternative imagination. That doesn't mean study them, just be regular. Tell them the problems with your draft and listen to theirs. Don't freak out that a teenager is having an easier time writing their WIP than you are. They have a bio test in the morning and you're probably old enough to legally drink. You're doing just fine.

Anyways, if you're a young writer reading this I have great affection for you. Try to actually listen in class and not just work on your writing. Or don't. I didn't.

#on writing #writing #writers on tumblr #writing community #writeblr #don't be weird to minors though #like remembering being a kid and listening to adults #if an adult has ever treated you in a weird way as a child #even in retrospect #fucking don't #i will send you bugs in the mail

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laurfilijames · 8 days

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"I'm gonna say something. Are you listening?"- Frankie "Catfish" Morales, Triple Frontier

Good. Thanks Frankie.

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately.

About fandom in general, interactions or lack thereof, how something you can feel so happy and passionate about can make you sad at the same time.

The idea of no longer sharing my fics has also been something that's crossed my mind on numerous occasions, but at the end of the day I WANT to share them. I am proud of them and I figure if they make me this happy, I hope they can make someone else happy too.

I continue to trek on, trying to compartmentalize my feelings and press on, creating fics I think others will enjoy as well, and praising the gorgeous man who plays gorgeous characters whose stories I love to change or extend.

Recently, I've felt guilt. Guilt that I haven't been creating and posting enough things for you to indulge in. And then I remember that in the last 4 weeks, I wrote and posted 3 fics.

3 fics where a majority of the reblogs are my own, and most of the notes are likes.

I'm feeling this way because of the lack of interaction. I'm not blaming or pointing fingers or trying to extend any guilt to any of you (and thank you endlessly to those who do reblog and comment and send messages and have conversations about them 💗) But I can safely say that this is a widespread issue across all fandoms alike.

It's disheartening. People leave and give up and have their creativity crushed to the point they no longer participate or share their wonderful art.

I came across a post that I reblogged yesterday that added another level onto all of this.

Artists and writers having to "market" and promote their work in hopes it'll help drum up excitement for what they have coming up.

As if taking the time and energy to create that fic of piece of art isn't enough, now we have to work like a full marketing team in hopes we will get a few more reblogs or comments.

I have seldom participated in tag games where you share snippets of WIPs etc because more often than not, the response to them are *crickets*. It's embarrassing and gives off that "no one is interested so why bother sharing it" vibe.

We shouldn't have to work that hard to get feedback on the things we share.

I know, and respect, that some people experience comment anxiety, but I promise you that if you're able to, whether it be a string of emojis or keysmashes or even a gif, you will be making a difference.

This happened to me yesterday.

Right when I felt like it's all fruitless, someone swooped in with a comment that gave me hope and reminded me why I do it. And it was on my least popular (and personal favourite) series to boot.

Because of this simple act of communication, my hope and motivation has been restored.

Now I know I'm going to get people saying "you should write for yourself" (I do) and I shouldn't rely on others to keep me motivated (I don't, I have Charlie Hunnam for that) but it's such a key component to all of this and I think most creators can agree to that.

So please, for the love of fandom and the things you love (the actors, the characters, the shows or films) PLEASE INTERACT WITH THE ARTISTS AND WRITERS WHO CREATE INCREDIBLE ART AND FICS FOR THEM.

You may not realize what an effect you have, but I promise you, you do, and it may even help save your favourite artist from abandoning it all.

#on fandom #commenting #reblogging #writing #sharing #laur is thinking out loud here

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royalsweetteaa · 2 years

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Different paces

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

WARNING - the following story contains: non-con, explicit smut, dark themes, overprotective/obsessive/delusional behavior on Steve’s part, kidnapping, captivity, angst, breeding kink, misogyny, mild violence, mentions of eating issues & depression.

Summary: You are Steve’s first close friend in the modern world outside of the avengers and his hero work. You take notice that Steve is overly protective of you, and it affects your daily life. Steve isn’t pleased when you insist he stops looking after you as much as he does.

Steve panted lightly as he stepped the last flight of stairs up to your apartment. He had just come back from a mission with his new acquaintance, Natasha Romanoff. Recently he has been teamed up with her to do missions as it was necessary for Steve to have a companion who had experience within SHIELD’s new line of work.

He found her to be overly skilled on the field of the new world compared to him, and he was to learn much from her to up his game on missions. But after those rough missions, he was back to explore the daily life of being a 21st century citizen of America. And there was no better way to explore it than being with you, the woman who he considered to be his first modern friend.

He met you at the art museum where he came with the intention of learning about modern art from the course of the decades he has been gone. He was almost appalled by the simplification art has succumbed to become, but he found it fascinating nonetheless. That was when he met you, a guide of the art museum. He found you to be endearing as you explained to what looked like a group of college students about the history and meaning behind each artifact. As he listened in, a new perspective behind the artworks was given to him, and he found himself being appreciative of the art than he was when he first saw them.

He decided you seemed kind enough to interact with, and he wasn’t met with disappointment. In fact, him making the first move of reaching out to you is something he considers one of his best decisions of his life. He could tell you didn’t know who he was, and yet you gave him the time to show around the museum and further explain in detail behind whatever art piece interested him.

This blossomed into a beautiful friendship, and even when you learned who the guy behind the glasses and cap was, your nature didn’t change. When he wasn’t doing heroic work, he would often come to pay you a visit or meet you at a place where you could teach him more about the world’s progressiveness.

“Thanks for inviting me, Y/N. You’ve done a nice job decorating your new apartment, I must say.” Steve complimented.

“Oh, thank you! Yeah, I put a lot of effort into this place before I settled. I wanted to feel like I was coming into a home, y’know?” You said, and showcased the plants and the paintings on the wall. “You may sit down, Steve. I’ll bring in some cookies and tea.”

Steve politely thanked you and sat down on a chair. He leaned his head up to relax his neck and inhaled a deep breath. The smell of freshly baked goodies filled his nostrils and he sighed in delight. He could get used to coming to your place after a mission, being greeted by you at the door while something was being made in the kitchen for the two of you to eat.

He thought it was a pity you weren’t his wife, but then again, it was never too late.

“So, how was your day? Didn’t have any trouble at the museum, did you?” Steve asked, raising his voice high enough for you to hear from the other room.

“Nah, it was boring. Not many visitors this time, but it’s expected on summer days when everyone would rather go to the beach. I don’t blame them. Besides, I think people subconsciously try to avoid being inside during the day after that alien invasion that happened in New York a month ago.” There was a slight pause as you turned off the oven and took out the cookies. “Gosh, it still feels strange to say that. A few months ago I wouldn’t have believed myself if my present self told the things I have experienced. Who would have thought Captain America would end up being one of my best friends after coming back from being in ice for 7 decades and later fighting aliens, alongside and against gods? Nothing surprises me anymore.”

“Now you know how I feel.” Steve cackled.

You came back with a platter of cookies and tea, and placed it neatly on the table. Steve thanked you once again, before taking a cookie for a taste.

“So, how was the mission? Must have been more exciting than my day I would assume.” You said, following it with a giggle.

“Not this time. We were talking to some analysts about how we could with more preparation assemble the team when a new ‘Avenger threat’ is on the rise, and how we can better organize ourselves to prevent less damage impact the cities and dangoured habitats. Of course, when it comes for the unexpected, it’s hard to plan things accordingly, but there are definitely methods one can follow suit.” Steve explained.

“That’s definitely worthwhile to consider. I can imagine preparations for the unthinkable is widely focused on after what happened. Makes me wonder what could possibly be the next big thing.” You pondered, and sipped some tea.

Steve left it with silence as thoughts of worry clouded his mind. He had thought about how you could easily be impacted by whatever huge thing was on its way to make trouble on earth. You were lucky when it happened last time, but what about in the future? It made him so uneasy to think of it.

“Y/N…have you still considered about that thing we fought over once? You know, the thing about moving to a more secure place? I have this bad feeling something’s coming real soon and I really don’t want to risk something happening to you…”

“Do you have confirmation about an upcoming threat or is it just a feeling?” You asked for more clarity.

Steve bit his lip before he looked up at you, not having the heart to lie to your face but tempted. “Not confirmation per day but….” You dipped your head with a sigh, thinking ‘here we go again’.

“Steve…we’ve had this conversation before. I’m not moving to some vacant compound because there might be a risk of this side of town having an attack by God knows what. A meteor could strike any moment and no compound could protect me from that.” You argued, hoping that would be the end of the conversation.

But Steve was too stubborn to leave it at that. He had a face expressing clear bitterness. It made you internally sigh of what was to come.

The last time you had this talk - which was days after the alien invasion, Steve was almost hysterical about the whole thing. You had given in on staying at one of the secret safety compounds of SHIELD for a week, and this was when Steve first brought up about his concern which came out very over-protective and demanding for your taste.

It wasn’t like he could stop you from returning for work, especially since your district hadn’t been affected in the slightest. Then you decided to move to an apartment which was by one mile closer to downtown New York compared to your previous apartment. You only knew this piece of information because Steve had measured it, and he had protested about you doing anything other than moving closer. Still, you persuaded him into calming down and he eventually let go of the topic, and you hadn’t talked about it since then, - until now.

You really couldn’t blame him though. He had seen and fought things which threatened human society as we know it, and you had learned of the loss of his best friend during the Second World War. You had figured as much that you meant a lot to Steve, because all of his friends from the 40s were either in their late 90s or had passed away. This made you assume you were one of few - or perhaps his only friend from present time. You figured he had trauma that stemmed from this, and so you felt nothing but bad for him.

But even though he had your sympathy, it couldn’t excuse his way of pressuring you of removing yourself from your daily life. It just couldn’t work as simple as moving to a smaller town, earning less and loosing a job you quite frankly liked. Therefore, you were sure not to withdraw from your standpoint.

“Well sometimes even the smallest measures of ensuring your safety can make a difference, Y/N. I’m telling you - living this close to downtown New York isn’t safe. You should live on the outskirts where I know you will be safe. Where if an attack was to happen, it wouldn’t be as hard for me to find you.”

Again you dismissed him. “Steve, stop it. I have a job, friends and family in this area. I’m not going to leave it all behind because of your fears. We just need to hope for the best that we are safe from any kind of disaster.”

“Y/N, you should listen to me. You shouldn’t be here. You should be somewhere no harm can come your way. Wether it’s another town or safer house, I really think it would be best if-!”

“I’m actually being serious, Steve.” You deadpanned. “Drop it. Now. I don’t want to hear this anymore and the door is right by the corner so if you feel like arguing, you might as well leave.” You walked back to the kitchen to put what you used to bake in the dishwasher.

“Hey, don’t have that tone with me. I’m only trying to protect you, Y/N. Why can’t you understand I’m trying to look after you? We literally had an alien attack and a supposed ‘god of mischief’ attack the whole city! You could have gotten killed!” He said while he stood up to follow.

Steve’s outburst pushed your limits and you just about had enough of this. “Well, you know what? I’d rather die living with friends and family than living in imprisonment! Life is unfair and if I die during a zombie apocalypse or whatever crazy stuff, then so be it! Honestly Steve - I don’t even recognize you as the sweet guy I met a few months ago! I understand your concern but this is borderline obsessive-!” You were cut off when Steve’s strong arms pushed you against the wall, with the other moving to your neck.

Steve’s teeth gritted and he saw red. You whimpered as his hand tightened around your neck, squeezing to test the limits of gripping so tightly around it. “You better watch your mouth, doll. It’s obvious you don’t value your life as much as I do, and that is deeply concerning. If you don’t want to take my advice anymore, I’ll simply have to force my hand.”

You held on to his arms and tried to claw him away but he wouldn’t budge. “S-Steve…let go-!”

“No. That’s exactly what I’m not going to do, Y/N. You really can be so ungrateful, you know that? One of many things women can be criticized for in this day of age when offered protection.” He spat.

“I’m going to take you to a place where no one will find nor harm you. I adore you too much to let you die in vain. I could never forgive myself if something were to happen to you…” he rambled the same thing for what seemed like forever. His grip started to loosen up when his face came closer to yours.

Tears spilled down your eyes. Steve had tricked you with his nice demeanor, and was now threatening to hold you in his imprisonment. You cursed yourself for never seeing beyond his facade. Now you were helpless against the strong super soldier who you once called a friend.

“You’re crazy….I’ll never forgive you for this..” you whispered, still digging your fingernails into his arms but it was no use. The stealth suit draped his arms with rich material, making your nails barely dig into his skin.

“Maybe I am crazy. But I can’t help myself anymore. I can’t loose you like I lost everyone else.” He stated.

It confirmed what you had thought all along, though you never knew those fears would turn him like this.

“I’m taking you home, sweetheart.”

He put his mouth on yours, devouring you out of breath. You whimpered into his mouth, your vision getting blurred from the new tears.

You tried to kick him off, but his body was too firmly pressed against your body, you couldn’t make a single move. Your arms were held to the side by Steve’s strong arms, making it impossible for you to claw away from his face.

You squirmed when he carried you around his shoulder, and you finally had your arms free to hit his back.

“Let me go! I don’t want this, Steve! Please, don’t do this!” You begged, but your pleas went deaf to Steve’s ears.

“Don’t worry, Y/N. Everything will be fine now. Just relax…”

You heard him rummaging through his pocket, and before you could look over your shoulder, you felt a sting in your neck. Darkness overtook you before your eyes, and you were out before you knew it.

2 years. 6 months. 8 days.

That was how long ago you were taken from your home and into a secure located cabin, not having any contact with family and friends, and having all data of your existence removed.

You often wondered how they felt. How your family were dealing with the fact that you were once a part of their life but not for the rest anymore. Steve had made sure of it that there were no traces of you with the help of Tony Stark and his techy ways of manipulating registered data. From your hospital and health records, your birth certificate - every trace was removed. It was as if Steve had planned on doing this all along with how prepared he was to move you to this place. There was nothing left of you outside of this cabin, and it isolated you in a way you never knew was possible.

Steve had been on missions a lot, keeping you alone in the huge cabin in the middle of nowhere. He had never told you where you were located, leaving you to imagine all the places you could be based on the crowded trees the cabin slotted itself in the middle of.

When you were alone, you had little to do in the big space. Steve had given you all kinds of things to keep you entertained, but you didn’t have the will to entertain yourself.

There was a small gym he had set up just for you to train if you wanted. He had given you art supplies, which was the only thing you found joy in keeping yourself occupied with. Otherwise, there was no reason for you to live anymore other than staying alive. Though at certain times, you couldn’t help but feel death was the only way left to freedom.

Suddenly, the main entrance door opened with following marching steps who you recognized as none other than his.

“Sweetheart, I’m home. I bought you new acrylic painting and canvases! You made such pretty paintings last time and I want to have more at my office. Reminds me of how much I love you, doll.” You heard Steve chirping as he came closer to where you were.

He had the tendency of rambling about things, not bothering to assure you were actually listening. That tendency had occurred with time when you stopped talking to him. Stopped responding and fighting him.

There was a time where whenever Steve opened the front door that was otherwise locked with the highest security, you would jump him and try to get out. You fought him with all your strength, hitting him until you were drained of energy. Of course, the hits didn’t affect the super soldier in the slightest. He would let you hit him until you gave up, and would then carry you to your room and teach you a lesson. Humiliating and inappropriate lessons.

You had once broken the glass table when Steve was trying to have a regular conversation about his day. You were so angry at him for ignoring your misery, and so you would vandalize the house and scream at him to let you go.

He had expressed disappointment for such behavior, and had you over his knee where he spanked you in a total of 40 times. You could barely stand up with how sore your ass got, and you would lay down for days to heal from that session.

You hadn’t put up any fights since then, leaving you being a soulless person with no will to live.

He came over with bags of supplies to the living room where you laid on the couch. He kept on talking about his latest mission, not sparing a glance as he put all the stuff at the corner of the room.

“-It’s insane how SHIELD has developed the latest technology, I think even you would be impressed if you saw -…..Y/N?“ he stopped when his eyes finally gazed at your form.

You hadn’t eaten a lot nor drunk anything for a few days. You were pale from the lack of energy you have consumed, and it had resulted in you staying on the same spot for a long period of time. You were also noticeably skinnier, which in no way looked healthy.

Steve immediately rushed over to you in worry, seeing that while you were alive, you weren’t doing well. “Y/N, we’ve been over this before, you need to eat regularly. You can’t starve yourself to death.”

As he rushed over to the kitchen to grab some food and water, you mumbled “maybe that’s the idea”. He heard it of course, with his super soldier hearing. When he returned to you, he gave a look of disappointment.

“It’s about time you get it together. I know you have been experiencing certain mood swings in the course of staying here but this is not healthy nor acceptable.”

“Neither is it to keep me here forever!” You snapped. “I haven’t been outside for fresh air in almost three damn years, Steve! I’m going to die miserable either way!”

Steve sighed and held the cup of water to your face. “Drink.”

You leaned your head to the side, not wanting to face him at all.

“Y/N. I’m serious. Drink the water and eat some fruit.” Steve said with a warning tone.

You knew that tone too well to know if you didn’t listen there would be unwanted consequences.

Steve held your jaw and tilted it towards him again, and helped you consume the cold beverage.

“There you go….now eat some apple and grapes. It’s good for you.”

You took a few pieces and ate it carefully. Steve smiled gleefully at your cooperation and stroked your shoulder with care.

“I think it’s time we think about having children, Y/N.”

You abruptly choked on a piece of apple, making you cough hard. You stood up from the couch as the coughing didn’t seem to tone down while laying, and Steve did nothing but chuckle as he hit your back a couple of times.

“Easy now, I wasn’t suggesting on making one right now. I’m just talking about the foreseeable future. I think it would be good for you to become a mother. For you to have a proper purpose. I understand it has been hard being here all alone for so long, and I think maybe having a kid or two would help you feel less lonely.” He said ever so lightheartedly. “Plus, my dream has always been to come home to a wife and children. My dream is only halfway complete.”

You gave him a confused glare. “Steve, we aren’t even married…how does saying ‘halfway through’ even make sense-!”

“Because you don’t exist otherwise. What difference does it make if I say we’re husband and wife?”

Your blood turned cold by his harsh words despite the lack of rude demeanor. The fact that he wasn’t denying his doings and talking about it in a casual manner always made you stiffen with fear.

“I’m not ready for kids, and it would be selfish to have kids just for the sake of not feeling lonely. Do you want to have kids and have them locked up in here as well? For them to not learn what the real world is like? How do you think that will work?” You said with challenge in your voice.

Steve frowned at your questions. It was as if you had burst his bubble of a romanticized reality where he and you could be happy, but you made it clear it wouldn’t work with his overprotective mindset.

“You’re looking way too deep into this. It’ll work. You’ll be fine raising the kids here while I do missions, and I’ll take some time off to spend time with all of you. It’s going to be just fine-!”

“No it’s not going to be just fine, Steve.” You interrupted him once again. You knew he hated when you did but you had just about enough of his foolery. “You’re naive and we’re not having kids.” You said finally and stood up to leave the area.

He crossed his arms around his shoulders and followed you with his eyes as you were on your way to the next room. But like any other disagreement, Steve was just too stubborn to leave it at that.

“Well, you know what happens when you don’t listen to me, doll. I’ll simply have to force my hand.” He murmured, more to himself.

You heard him come right behind you and pull you by the waist. He dragged you to the bedroom, and you regained will to fight by hitting him with closed fists on his chest, despite knowing it’ll do nothing. You wanted him to know you still resented him.

Steve threw you onto the bed and towered you before you could move away.

“Let’s practice making babies, sweetheart. I need to remind you how important you are to me. How your existence alone provides the opportunity of us becoming a loving family.”

You shook your head and decided to correct him. “It’s an opportunity for you, not us. There is no ‘us’ anymore. Hasn’t been for three years ever since you betrayed me, Steve…” you said quietly.

You knew this was happening no matter what you did, and so you tried to make yourself go numb while Steve did his work of preparing you for the deed.

You have had sex with Steve a few times - enough times to know it’s best to be done with it. The less you protest, the quicker it ends, you concluded.

He unbuttoned your silky shirt and gave wet kisses along your jaw, slowly moving down to your chest while he squeezed your breasts smoothly.

“You’re wrong. You always are. You only make yourself miserable. I thought you would eventually see how good we can be together when away from this terrible world. But maybe having kids will make you see it. We will hope it does.”

He undid his pants, straddling you with his thighs while he undid his body armor.

“I’ve missed you, love. I always look forward coming home knowing no harm has come to you….you have no idea how much hell I have witnessed, and each time there’s a woman there - harmed and helpless, I think of you. I think of what could have happened to you if you were still out there. There’s too many bad people out there. Too many who could hurt my girl…I can’t let that happen. I just can’t.”

“Steve…just, don’t talk..” you bluntly demanded.

By now, he had removed your sweatpants and was in the process of removing your panties, hooking it with his index finger as he slid them down from your bare legs.

“Oh, so my girl likes to talk back when I’m telling something personal…well okay then, if you want to make love right now, we’ll skip right to it.” He spread your legs apart and aimed his cock at your cunt.

He pushed in with less caution than any previous time he has taken you. Instead of waiting for you to adjust, he started to thrust in medium tempo - not too slow but not too fast. It hurt a little regardless, because his size was abnormally large compared to the regular size.

“Hngh, Steve…” You moaned with curled toes. It was hard to hate the sex with him. Because you were alone and frustrated all the time, sex was the best relief with the closure and the pleasure that came with it.

It wasn’t always like that. Steve used to be somewhat bad at sex, but had recently upped his game in terms of technique and focusing on how to make you feel good. He had a way of making your brain completely numb of thoughts, and send you in a temporary escape from reality.

“I know, baby doll. Feels good having my cock inside your baby pussy, doesn’t it? You’re tiny cunt’s squeezing my cock so well, sweetheart.” He groaned.

He wiggled his hips to seep in further, and his cock did a repeating pace of fucking into your cervix. You moaned with whines almost pathetically and let him take you the way he wanted to.

“M’gonna cum inside and breed you, baby doll. Mmmh, you’re going to look so sexy with a round belly and swelled breasts, my love…fuck, I can’t wait.”

He gave you a few kisses as his cock did its work of pleasuring your cunt. He put his thumb on your clit, making you whimper with stimulation.

You clenched around him hard with purpose of driving him to his peak. That always seemed to work.

“Doll - fuck! Ahh, M’gonna cum…” he announces. “Ohh, just a little more…m’bout to make you a mama….”

He thrusted in with less gap, making his fat cock constantly make room in your pussy. Your fingernails were clawing against Steve’s back as you approached your orgasm of the night. Your back ached against him as you came with a howl, and Steve made sure to muffle them with his lips. His hips rolled a couple of times more before he came as well, filling up your cunt with his spend.

His balls were pulsating as cum was being injected into you, filling you to the brim. You were held in place until his balls was emptied. He breathed through his nose harshly as he pulled out, making his seed unleash from your pussy. Cum trickled down and made a mess on the bed, but none of you cared to take care of it right now.

“Mmmm you did so well, baby doll. I’m sure this will take...” he whispered to you while caressing your bare stomach.

He pulled the blanket over you and wrapped his arms around your waist protectively, already being sent to sleep. He murmured an ‘I love you’ into the shell of your ear. You didn’t return it.

Streams of tears had already set through your face as you were hopelessly thinking of how after all these years, this was the beginning of a bound misery for life. One you would have to share with your kids.

Note from author: yeahh this turned out so depressing but I felt like going for an angsty direction with little hope for the reader.

(Poor thing ;-;)

Anyway if you have made it this far; thank you for reading! Hearts & reblogs are appreciated!

#dark steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans dark fic

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mettaloverxx · 7 months

Note

Can you do A MTT with an artist darling Whose An Introvert and Loves to Give Words of affirmation and Acts of service ???

Of course anon!! Here ya go I'm so sorry I'm so late!!

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Mettaton with an artist and introverted S/O

I feel that mettaton would love your art and definitely buy commissions from you, if you're willing to do so. Of course, the art is all pictures of himself (well not all of them he had you draw some family portrait with all of his cousins in it, and some of you and him. These are very precious to him 💗) oh and if you were up for it, he definitely have you design a poster for his upcoming tour.

mettaton is wonderful when it comes to interacting with introverted people (he has a lot of experience dealing with them from being around napstablook and Alphys.) he mainly always starts all the conversations, so you never really have a worry about what to talk about when he's around. and almost all of his conversations are interesting and amusing. Even the serious ones. You never really have to painc or be frustrated when it comes to talking with him because he listens to what you have to say and respond back. He absolutely despises it when people talk over you. Sometimes, he'll stop the person mid speeking that's talking over his darling and point out that you're trying to say something. "I'm going to have to stop you there dear, this is the 3rd time you ignored my darling speeking." He then turns his head over to you."You can continue speeking now gorgeous~"

On quite days where you don't feel like speaking much and you just feel like doodling, he'd join you. His little drawings aren't the best, but they are somewhat cute and silly. He'd draw on the same paper as you if you let him.

Your acts of service and words of affirmation don't go unnoticed by him. Helping him pack up all his makeup a head of time for a tour, they way you make sure he's fully charged before going anywhere and when you tell him he looks good in an outfit, he's wearing. ( of course, he knows he looks amazing, but it always feels good when your partner thinks you look good!) Or when you say I love you before going to bed or before he starts a show it always makes him smile. He loves his darling so much! 💓 you know he has to return the favor!! He would cook breakfast for you and try to make sure you're getting enough sleep. He even texts you little love notes all out through the day while he's busy. "Hello gorgeous, I hope your evening is more eventful than this meeting I'm attending. It's going painfully slow. Oh! thank you for packing up all my makeup, darling! I've been in such a rush these past weeks. everythings been so hectic, but you've been nothing but a sweetheart! 💕 🥰 I just want to let you know you mean the world to me, darling! When I get back, we should go back to that lovely little restaurant you liked xoxo~"

#undertale imagines #mettaton imagines #mettaton x reader #mettaton

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docholligay · 5 months

Text

Souvenir

I like people, I think it would be fair to say. Not even in the way you might describe a social butterfly, or someone who is necessarily good with people,* but in the way that someone loves art. I like listening people, I like watching them, I love hearing about what strangers do with their lives, I love eavesdropping on the little bits of people’s lives that they share into the open air and I learn things, constantly, from this**.

It’s a bit of an odd trait, I guess, and maybe could even be considered nosy, to look at strangers like this, to chat up the gal on the train to Ely***and find out that she was a translator, she’d worked translating a sailing manual, and isn’t that such an interesting thing for people to do? She offered the opening door, and I walked right through it. I will all the time. Every person I meet gets added to a bank in my mind to draw from, for writing, for experiences, for simply lying awake at 3 am and mulling over in my mind****.

In an actually fairly rare bit of lacking self-reflection, I had no idea that I constantly did this--it is not a calculated act--until Dani pointed it out to me on this trip, that I often make these little connections with strangers for no reason, and that it possibly makes me a good traveler. I had never thought of this. I suppose it’s true, though, that even when I’m somewhere my grasp of the language is, shall we say, tenuous, I have a very open sort of nature that allows me to find those little points of meeting. A conversation with an employee in Cologne, trying to buy tights, and we both ended up laughing, between my bad German and her slightly better English, and many hand motions, we got it handled! It was a very positive and lovely interaction, and though I knew my German wasn’t up to it, *I* was. That’s a mindset thing.

I like being this way, I think. Not only do I have these small moments, but I also, to creep out anyone who’s ever hung out with me, sort of memorize my friends. When I’m with them, I catch myself looking so carefully at the way their hair moves, the way they phrase things, how they walk and the exact curve of their jaw. How will I call this person up in my mind, later? I have trouble paying attention to things sometimes because I can’t stop paying attention to things. I am a good mental mapper for this reason, and I mentally map people, as well. I keep them, in a way I’m not sure other people do.*****

I do catch myself wondering if they know they have lives, still, in my head? Does Sylvie from British Airways know I think about her smile from the jumpseat? Does Ian the cabdriver know I still turn over his voice in my head? Will the girl across from me on the train know how she lifted my spirits along with hers as she loved someone? Does anyone ever know the thosuand tiny gifts I receive every day of my life, simply by the decoration they bring to my world? In the novel of my life, the background has so much texture, because of all the wonder of each and every person, even the ones I don’t like, bring to it. I am so grateful for all of them.

I like people. I hope they continue bringing their gifts to me and little weirdos like me.

*I think we can all agree that sometimes I am very Not That, and that ‘smoothing things over’ is not necessarily a gift I am given (nor do I cultivate it, let’s assign blame where blame is due here) and I can be brusque and impolitic and annoyingly self-assured in any given situation where I have no fucking clue what I’m doing.

**Just today I learned that sledding is called sledging in the UK, or at the very least in the North, if this gal’s accent is anything to go by and I’m not sucking at broad identification. I know this because she was talking about having enough snow to do it with someone she clearly loves and misses very much, from the way her face lit up as she was talking to them on the phone, and the way she leaned in toward the table as she made plans to meet up for dinner. I teared up a little bit. I love the moments we see people in connection and joy, some of my favorite little experiences in the world. I still think about the day one of my friends got married and she was walking around like a little piece of popcorn in hot oil, and there was nothing ODD or MAGICAL or WHATEVER about that, except that it was the exact kind of human magic I love, where something or someone gives you such joy that you can’t help but show it. ANYWAY.

***See: Transit for a full explanation of how we all on the train ended up being, if not friends, foxhole comrades.

****Upon reading this back, it sounds very negative or like I’m suffering, but I have slept in ‘shifts’ since I was a small child, and lying awake thinking for an hour or two around 3 am doesn’t bother me at all. It gives me a lot of time to imagine Haruka in situations and whatnot.

*****Poetic as this sounds when I make it sound poetic using the power of making myself sound good writing, it might be fairly argued that my brain would be better served to spend a little less storage space on how often my friend wears a particular sweater and a little more on, oh, remembering a box I’ve been meaning to ship for MOTHERFUCKER I JUST REMEMBERED I HAVE A PRESENT I FORGOT TO GIVE DANI AND BEL IT’S IN MY FUCKING BACKPACK RIGHT NOW (see??? What I mean???)

#Doc Does Christmas

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soracities · 9 months

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hi mim! i hope you're keeping well :) i wonder if you have any experience or thoughts on something, as a fellow late twenties-er:

how do you deal with unaccountable/unjustified cruelty towards you? like most people, i've lived through some bad times and have had pleeeeenty of people be mean to me, but generally as an adult, especially in the last few years, i do all right managing social situations & protecting myself, so i can safely disengage or accept the shitty stuff until the feelings dissipate. also, i try really, really hard to be genuine and kind to everyone, no matter what, and am relatively naive, so that helps limit bad interactions to some extent.

but earlier this year, i was trapped in a situation with a boss (they had power over me, so i couldn't leave) and was stuck listening to them hammer at me relentlessly with cruel, personal insults. (my union wasn't willing to do anything because of work politics.) my boss had teased out some misunderstandings and built them up in their head and let them fester until they felt the need to pull me into their office and scream really horrible things at me. they refused to let me defend myself and called me a liar every time i tried - basically begged - to explain where the misunderstandings must have come from, laughed at me when i asked them to stop yelling, threatened me over and over...i was full-bodied sobbing in front of them because i couldn't understand how this could have happened, how someone i knew and trusted (at work! not a shitty family member or abusive partner!) could snap and lose control like that at me. it was so so awful.

an older friend, who is much more cynical than i am, pointed out afterwards that this is par for the course when you're trying to be a nice and honest person; he tried to impress upon me the idea that if you are kind and passionate, you will inevitably & repeatedly encounter people who will harm you because they can do so without consequences. because if you care about being kind, they know you won't fight back. because if you care about your work, you'll do anything to keep doing it.

i have a really hard time with this perspective. again, i've lived through plenty of horrible things, no small number being directly related to injustice and prejudice, and i firmly believe that you don't get the chance to opt out of suffering in life. i know that there are worse things that happen on vastly different scales. i also know vocational awe and abuse is a real issue in the arts and in helping professions - i made it my life's work to help people who've suffered childhood trauma, as did my coworkers, but unfortunately the kind of people who run not-for-profits are rarely (if ever?) cool, decent people.

so i can't stop thinking about this day - i quit my job, even though i was eventually able to calm my boss down, because i have boundaries when it comes to yelling at work, but the excessive degree of cruelty sticks in my mind. i can't wrap my head around it because her behaviour feels so antithetical to anything i could ever even imagine doing to another person, especially in a workplace. i'm not obsessing over it, but this degree of meanness really sticks, you know? as we get older and encounter more people like this, how do we keep our hearts open? how do we make sense of cruelty when we have no way of fighting it or reasoning with it? as we get older and get a better sense of how limited our power is in the world, how do we let go and move on without losing hope?

I think we are able to let go and move on without losing hope because "letting go" is not surrendering our own capacity for action--it's surrendering the belief that we should be able to (if we are truly "good and virtuous" enough as people) control the responses and decisions of other people.

I think it's very easy to conflate the two: that letting go is the same as not caring, but they aren't mutually inclusive things in the least. And I think this idea maybe comes from the same perspective you described your older friend as having (and I am with you in this, because I do not abide by that belief either)--that if you are kind and passionate, you will inevitably & repeatedly encounter people who will harm you because they can do so without consequences. I think the biggest issue I have with this (and I have many) is that it assumes a responsibility for others' actions that you are not obliged to have. And in doing so it actually erases the notion of accountability (which we do have) by putting the brunt of it on a single party, effectively absolving the other (the person who acted cruelly and caused you harm in the first place) of any responsibility they themselves have. It's a perspective I don't like because it negates itself without realising, or acknowledging, that it does so but still posits its view as an undeniable truth about the world: by its own logic people have enough agency to act in cruel ways because they know they can get away with it (which implies a conscious, measured, analytic decision), but somehow not enough agency to be held responsible for that decision in the first place.

It's not an objective statement, but a self-fulfilling prophecy: if you are going to be responsible for other people's unwarranted mistreatment of you, then, yes, caring and sincerity aren't worthy endeavours--but only because you have actively created, and justified, a world in which your right to behave callously takes precedence and is, therefore (whether this is conscious or not, admitted or not), valued. And at its heart, I sometimes think that is what statements like this are about: they're an indicator of what we value in this world, even if we don't realise it, or would be horrified to realise it

I think that because this idea is so prevalent and exists in so many different variations--the idea that you have to guard yourself against others because people will "always" take advantage of you otherwise--it trickles down even to those of us who don't believe it; you convince yourself that any mistreatment has to be a failing on your part: your kindness wasn't good enough, your attempts at understanding weren't empathetic enough--in short: you made a bad investment and therefore you were not good enough. And when we fall into this trap, the same thing happens to us as happens to the person who harmed you: you lose sight of your own agency and your own capacity for decision-making, and the role these occupy in every interaction, for every person.

Being kind, open, and sincere, to me, are things that have very little, if anything, to do with other people--they are decisions that I have made regarding my conduct, my beliefs, and my hopes for the kind of world that I want to live in, and the world I want to build with each interaction I have with someone else. They are not a means of measuring my own worth in the eyes of others, or proving myself to people to show that I am good enough, I can be good enough, that if you let me show you who I am, what I am, how I am then surely this can overcome anything (because I am giving everything I have) and you can accept me and therefore I can accept myself--because the fallout of that is, like I said, that if someone rejects it and decides instead to offer cruelty, the edifice of my entire being falls apart: why? because I have hitched it all on someone else's decision. The decision that I made, the decision that I came to as a result of all my experiences, all my hurts and beliefs, all that I have learnt and unlearnt in order to get to a place where I can exist in the world in a way that gives me fulfillment (in essence: the sum of my entire life)--all of that suddenly doesn't matter anymore, and why? Because someone else decided to be shitty?

This is what I mean about agency, and about our own capacity for action. Someone else's choice doesn't have to be mine. But it is their choice. And if you offer kindness and are met with callousness, that is a choice on their part, not yours. Letting go of others' cruelty towards you, and cruelty in the world at large, is not letting go of your own beliefs or changing who you are and how you approach or live in the world. It's simply saying: this is me, and that is you--otherwise it'd be like deciding that you no longer like oranges because some random person thinks clementines are gross.

I don't necessarily believe that all acts of cruelty are beyond understanding, but I also don't believe that understanding is going to come as some kind of revelatory moment that will make it all make sense. But what I do believe is that, sometimes, especially when it comes to people treating us as horrifically as your boss treated you (and I really am so sorry that you were forced to endure something so awful for that long), when we look for understanding, what we're looking for is a justification: that there has to be a why to explain it all and tidy these painful interactions up like a neat and indisputable equation. But I don't believe that they are always the same thing. If I were to take any of the hateful rhetoric I see around me--sexism, racism, homophobia etc--and try to understand it I know I won't and never could, and I'm thankful for that: because, for me, the very moment it begins to make sense to me is the moment I have seen something in it that can be justified and that will never ever be the case. But what I can understand is how we have a world in which these exist--I can see and recognize all the various points of power and domination that require a constant renewal and generation of such intense violence and hate in order to maintain a status quo whose sole priority is its own preservation, at the brutal cost of anyone and everything else. That, in situations like these, is what understanding is to me: it isn't acceptance or justification but knowing how certain aspects of this world work so that I can make the decision to refuse them.

The key thing, I think, in trying to understand why people treat us unkindly, is knowing that we can refuse it, not by negating it as a reality (this is naivety and can, sometimes, be just as insular as blind cynicism) but recognising that sometimes people respond in ways that are the result of factors that have nothing to do with us personally--they could be the result of traumas, immaturity, selfishness, bad behavioural feedback loops or simply plain pettiness--but it isn't our job to somehow fix that for them.

When it comes down to it, at the heart of most pessimism (and some cruelty) is a reservoir of fear or pain, or some concoction of the two. Our world is a profoundly fucked up place, in many regards, and all of us accumulate a host of hurts and traumas as a result of that: you cannot always control the things that happen to you but you can control the decisions you make about your life and the actions you choose to follow as a result. Your boss made a calculated, deliberate decision to berate you in the most painful and humiliating way possible--this had nothing to do with you, and everything to do with her. People who decide, consistently, to act cruelly will do so regardless of who is on the receiving end: it isn't about the person they target, but about whatever this cruelty and targetting validates for them and that is a choice. You cannot understand why she would do this to you because you know there is no justification for it. And that is something to hold on to because already it shows you that you are absolutely not like her. And that is where your agency and your ability to not lose hope lies.

I think the only way, sometimes, that I have managed to deal with this (and despair in general at the things that happen in this world sometimes) is to recognise what I can control and what I can't. It doesn't make things less painful, but it does make them less crippling. Whatever has happened in people's lives, the views they take as a result and the decisions that they then make--that isn't something I can change. All I can account for is how I respond, learn and grow from my own experiences. Other people can have their truths about the world, but I also have mine: and I assert it over and over again through the people I surround myself with, through the little actions I take to try and make it all as bearable as I can for myself and others, where I'm able to. I think, for me, recognizing the world's duality is part of that: knowing that cruelty exists, that pain exists, that senseless violence exists and knowing, too, that beauty exists, that graciousness, and openness, and kindness exist--and that I can resolve to bring more of those into the world and less of the others, even if it's only in my tiny corner of it. It may be small, but it exists. And if my life is a testament to nothing else but that, then I know I'll have spent it sincerely, regardless of what others choose to do with theirs. I really hope this helps you somewhat, anon 💕

#ask #anonymous #notes from elsewhere

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emmalovesfitzloved · 5 months

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Last question, who are your fav downwolders and why?

Ahh… well it has to be….

The one….

The only….

💫Magnus Bane! 🥂

(Art credit: @cassandrajean )

Queue the music!

Now. Reasons reasons reasons. Where to begin.

I took my time thinking about this question bc there are quite a few downworlders I have an affinity to. But the showdown where it was REALLY hard to pick one or the other was the battle of the warlocks…

Tessa or Magnus.

On the one hand, I love Tessa So much (wrote a piece on why you can find here hehe) and I truly think she is a timeless character (well before she became literally timeless ie. immortal) and her influence throughout the shadowhunter world is iconic, relevant and enduring.

(Art credit: @giannyfili )

However… her choices and inner narrative became a bit clumsy dealt with and a bit inconsistent unlike Magnus’s, as the shadowhunter novels went on. Of course, characters are allowed to change, grow, develop at any age, but her character felt slightly manipulated in the writing? All for the sake of peddling the plot. Not to get TOO into the whole herongraystairs touchy topic but I do think as I’ve grown up and done over a handful of rereads I do spot the slight manipulation that started then, which kind of set a precedence in her character throughout. I adore Jem but he as well was felt a bit clumsily. Topic for another time.

Meanwhile Magnus, while through his own self discoveries and through his own immortalities feels more cleaner in plot. He’s necessary, vibrant, witty and is that character that you ALWAYS look forward to reading. He is That character that just lights up a room and you wait with baited breath on what he’s going to say next. His air of lightness that he brings into every interaction makes you be able to read and listen to him all day long. With long promises made of laughter, sage advice, experience, history and adventure.

“I've got a stele we can use. Who wants to do me?""A regrettable choice of words," muttered Magnus (City of Ashes).

And because of this, when he is being serious, his words strike you when you least expect it and leave you stunned.

“You endure what is unbearable, and you bear it. That is All” (Clockwork Princess).

His bisexuality was handled wonderfully, and was truly one of the first stories I think our generation read where the sexual identity wasn’t about coming out but already at the stage of acceptance and fun loving. He remains respectful and doesn’t want Alec to rush out of the closet but rather does the best thing- inspire Alec to be the best version of himself in life which is finite. That’s the best thing a partner can really do for you.

However he isn’t a Mary Sue bc in every series he stars in the reader sees his vulnerabilities in pure daylight. And also has a plot line that challenges his Yodha immortal dogmas. Will being one weakness of his in TID, Camille and how she mistreated him and being alone in a very sad world. I don’t think these topics were explored nearly as well with Tessa.

“You left me. You made a pet out of me, and then you left me. If love were food, I would have starved on the bones you gave me” (City of Fallen Angels).

And of course, his relationship and development with Alec is my top 3 relationships in all the shadowhunter world. It felt natural, wonderful, sizzling, exciting and steadfast. Didn’t feel too young or naive like I sometimes feel when reading Clace, but new enough to feel like the honeymoon will never end. And I think in part it’s because of Magnus bringing out the best in people, and how Alec chose him. Of all the people Magnus helps out, he actually doesn’t really ask much in return. But for once Alec did a double take on him and let Magnus take the reins of where their relationship will lead them. With great readership payoff 🥹💍

“You could give me the past,“ he said a little sadly. “But Alec is my future” (City of Fallen Angels).

(Art credit: kasirose)

In fact, he has SO much to offer we got standalones, his own mini series with his partner and constant features in further novellas stories. There is no other character in the Shadowhunter chronicles who has been that centre stage as him. And he deserves all of it.

Favourite Swiftie songs that r HIS:

• BEJEWELED

• Begin Again

• Welcome to New York

• You’re in Love

• Karma

• You’re Not Sorry

• Ours

• I Know Places

• You’re on Your Kid

• Castles Crumbling

• The Last Great American Dynasty

• The 1

• Hoax

So yeah the superlative for the best Downworlder has to go to the delightfully and wonderfully written…

Magnus Bane <3

(Art credit: kasirose)

So yeah! I hope the answer makes up for the wait @imabitchforjemcarstairs ILY! And thank you so much for the lovely ask!

P.s. if any artist doesnt want to be affiliated, kindly DM me and I’ll remove your lovely art and mention from the post :))

#bejeweled magnus #magnus bane #shadowhunters essay #TSC #TES #cassandra clare #TDA #TLH #Malec #TID #ask #iamabitchforjemcarstairs

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one0p1nk · 2 months

Note

What do you love the most about your current friends group?

//No order, I'm mentioning people from mundo server and some other servers btw

Beth -> I love my wife's gentle, softspoken nature. I hope Bethy can feel confident enough to tell me about almost anything because talking with her in the chat is always a blessing to me and i really want her to know that. It was never awkward when I'm with her even when she doesn't speak or not. I love her fav ships they're always so sweet/ih/not sure if it should be pun intended JDBDBDB🥰

Klai -> My henchwoman is incredible, idk but I feel like she has a lot of patience too when interacting with me--- always so understanding with everyone and would try her best to make everyone feel better despite of her own struggles. She's very generous, yes, and how she likes keeping up silly ramblings with me about worlds is what I mostly adore about her. Even solsticea has a special spot in my heart 🥺

Joe -> I love joey/p. They feed me art, they're my supportive dogboy/ih, and I'm glad they existed or else communion and doomed yaoi wouldn't have been in my dictionary DJHDDHDB in other words, I love their humor and friendliness makes me wanna keep them like a pocket friend/ih

Yami -> I love her vibes, I love her art, I love her art streams, I love when I talk to her, and I love her bc she's my angelfish/p🥰 She helps me walk away from dangers that try to reach me sometimes, is fun when she brings me to McDonalds while at it sniffles;;; thanks to her I'm very absorbed to ToD sometimes and still do that, how long was it since HDDBFBFB

Tae -> some of Shrimpy's humor stuck into me/ih and I love hearing her talk. Her voice is very calming to me that it makes me feel quite safe, it really sounds very friendly....;;; Her voice is also iconic i would wish to watch it in a lot of kinds of anime genres no matter if is piece of life or horror, it's incredible the way she narrates or voice acts dialogues in games on stream dhfbfbffb

Sleepy -> I like her art pieces. I want to draw as fast as her but I'd rather polish quality over time in my case since art styles really vary JDBFFBB- I like the moments when she’s glad to try and help people, and try to stay cheerful sometimes despite of the pressure she has to experience at times. I hope in the future these can flourish well and that she gets to achieve her goals somehow no matter how bumpy the road can be for her.

Lupi -> Lupita is supportive and wouldn't hurt me in any form;; despite that I don't see her as often as the others, I feel safe around her like I've never seeing her judge me before or is probably because I don't remember sobs;;; but yeah, she brings good vibes when we're hanging out heheheheh

Al -> I love Al/p for listening to me about Hana's reversed harem stuff and trying to learn dyanthus lore from me back at the lore wide discord server/ih. I love the times we gush over fnaf together too <3/ih and also freaking like how for some reason I imagine you as a squishy entity idk why/lh

Emma -> I love Emma and Tatya and Bartholomew and Georgie and everytime we interact really I love you/p, she has such great charisma and attitude it boosts my confidence and self-esteem a bit sometimes djnnddn saranghae pookie 🫶🌸

Fifi -> Fifita, my precious rat friend and portable incinerator room/hj, I thank her for letting me love and ship her blorbos and draw them JDDBBD her art makes me smile a lot even when she draws her scrunkles, Dreams of delirium is chef's kiss;;;

Anwyll -> Anwy is a new friend I just met, and I'm already holding hands gently with him/p. I love how we have this mutual agreement about pretty blonde boys BDDBFBFBFB--- I love their blorbos too, especially Nevi(hes so pretty i like making Lau rizz him a bit/ih) and Edvin (I love farmers, I think they're so neat as heck)

Mango -> He has a nice sense of humor, I'll take that---/ih I love his art, the way he drew my goofy son once, and how he named almost everyone in dinosaur parody(I'm still sobbing from that JDBDBDB;;) and he's nice to talk with when he's not sus and... confusing, I don't understand what he says sometimes but its best to not know 🤔😊/lh

Kory -> I nearly lost my friend, Korita. It could have been one of my greatest regrets 😔 but anyway, I love her blorbos, but what I mostly love is her been spoody as usual and just taking every problem like a tough one(she's trying her best okay/lh). A nice spooder. 🥺/pos

Mandika -> I get excited when talking to Mandita, it's either neat or concerning/pos. But nonetheless I like receiving these rare art requests from her, it's my excuse to laugh and cry internally at the same time as I enjoy seeing her giggles and go silly JDDBBFFB

Clown -> I love payasito's craziness, that's a very Clown thing to do- even if I can be skeptical when she’s acting 'normal' around their spouse Law sometimes/ih/j

Orange -> magical girl Naranja save me magical girl Naranja;;; SHES TECHNICALLY AN ORANGE!!! A POG, GOOD VIBES ORANGE;; sobs sobs 😭✨️ I love her ideas and her art feels like a cool fresco snacks, and her blorbos are so well designed and written I can distinguished them well JDBFNFN

Nakki -> My brother Nakki is not often around lately, but I appreciate the times he has the patience to teach me and help me with Minecraft/lh. I love his pink lemonade recipe even tho I feel like the way he makes it will be the one overuling my amateur lemonade skills anyway JDBFNFB

Skye -> turns out Skye is held dead and half alive??? But well I love them anyway, still o' glorious in my heart/p. They're the perfect definition of a laid back, modest pookie/ih

Sam -> I love Samito's writings and drawings they make me giggle and kick my feet hehehehehe.... and I recently discovered his Gepard rp interpretation--- I have mixed feelings but at least leaning positive because I love a good humor Geoard once in a while JFBFBGN they really inspired me to ship Orpehmi more often and ngl, it feels nice to covert into it/ih

I feel like I have more friends I haven't mentioned, but just so you know to all of them. I'm glad I've met you guys, you've helped me learn new things and understand from the lessons I have to take myself better with your support, understanding, and patience despite my occasional autistic awkwardness.🥰/lh

#pins speaking

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recusant-s-sigil · 3 months

Note

compliment someone else in your fandom

your favorite type of fandom event (gift exchange, ship week, secret santa, prompt meme, etc)

the thing in canon that everyone loves and that you also love

(12, 13, 17!)

I’ll be going with KH again

12: I can’t decide so I’ll just compliment a bunch of people

To everyone: your contributions to the fandom are always wonderful, whether it be visual, writing, analysis, or any other format! Time to tag a bunch of people to compliment them all at once!

@corishadowfang, @cq-studios, @ok4ru, @vivi-mire, @taliaxlatia, @xehabraigs, @goldensunset, @scalacaelumx, @trashcantasch, @autumn-may, @fin-al-mix, @thetwilightroadtonightfall, @firestorm09890, @lightandfellowship, @luxudidnothingwrong, many many others I’m not close enough with to tag directly, and of course, @starlightwayfinder; the way you all have shaped my experience with Kingdom Hearts through your art has made a huge impact on not only my interactions with fandom, but on my life in general. I’m so glad to have met and talked with (if only briefly in some cases) so many amazing people such as yourselves.

13: I love doing communal prompt lists such as Inktober! Seeing everyone’s responses to the list was so cool last year! I do want to set up some sort of exchange/secret Santa/gift event at some point, though. I think that’d be really fun.

17: Nobody can deny that Yoko Shimomura, Takeharu Ishimoto, and Hikaru Utada (along with several other arrangers and composers whom I cannot remember the name of right now) have made the music of KH an auditory banquet, and neither can I! The music in this series has been a comfort for me many a time, and I know this is supposed to be about stuff in canon, but @projectdestati’s covers are absolutely stunning, go listen to them if you love orchestral music.

#Moon Answers #starlightwayfinder #Thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to give some love to my favorite community artists and my friends

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xp-n-g · 7 months

Text

HELLO MY NAME IS CHARLIE ANNNNNNNND CHECK IT OUT MY WEBSITE UNDERSCOREPNG IS ALMOST DONE!

its all about me myself and i and my work! everything you need to know ab me, my values, and my art are all here! - - eeeek im excited its close to being done! i love html and css and im very proud of this, i hope i get a laptop for christmas so i stop stealing my brothers and then i can code 24/7!! i hope to learn javascript soon so i can make this place look how it looks in my mind!

[this website is best viewed on a pc! unfortunately it breaks a little on mobile and ipad i apologize for this inconvenience!, it still works it just not the same experience!]

___

DNI

[please read full in the link above! - this is shortened!]

BTW it is totally okay to be uncomfortable with any of the values i mentioned here (exceptions are minors*, pro-contacts, bullies, bigots, & hateful people), i myself am uncomfortable with many things, even tho i accept everyone, i still have my own opinions, the difference is i choose to bite my tongue and set differences aside, no matter how weird, for the wellness and health of others. i never want to be someone untrustworthy, nor an oppressor, i am a friend to all and anyone can come to me with anything no matter how big or small, ill be there to listen

HARD DNI

a list of those who i dont wish to associate with, please do not follow me, retweet, repost, or fave/like my work, dm me, or attempt to personally contact me! it makes me uncomfortable!

~ MINORS*

please be 18+ when following my NSFW accounts!

*reminder: my instagram is my only SFW -18 account! this is the only account minors should be on.

~ PRO-CONTACT

i do not allow room for abusive content nor harm, i may be pro-para but i am not pro-abuse. animals, children, and the dead cannot consent.

~ ANTIS

i am proship / profiction meaning i do not feel inclined to harass or reject others for their personal fictional fantasies! i do not believe fiction is equivalent to reality, it can affect it only if you are weakminded enough to allow yourself to, fortunately most people im this world arent! if you in any way believe in harrassing, belittling, or judging others over taboo fictional content, feel taboo fictional content and media are against your moral alignment, or are someone who believes it represents my morals as a person, my content is not for you!

closeted / neutral ship allowed!

~ BULLIES, BIGOTS, & HATEFUL PEOPLE

I WILL NEVER TOLERATE INTOLERANCE, I WILL NEVER STAND BESIDE AN OPPRESSOR, AND I WILL NEVER BE THE OPPRESSOR. i am black, transgender, bisexual, mentally & physically disabled, and radincluse, i support any and all identities no matter how strange or "weird", i do not care! i will ALWAYS be a safe space for anyone who isnt hateful! in my personal opinion, i believe no identity is inherently harmful and all identities are equally invalid, we are stronger together than we are apart. pushing hatred of things you dont understand is not PLUR and is not right, kill the cop in your head before speaking to me, you do not have to understand why others are the way they are, but bare minimum is to accept others no matter how different, in this community we are ALL misunderstood, ostrascized, and wrongly labled, do NOT become the oppressor & praise what you preach, if you are PLUR PROVE IT BY BEING KIND AND ACCEPING! if you force others to confine to your impossible standars do not interact, my content is not for you!

BYF

I AM ANTI-HARRASSMENT, DO NOT COME TO ME WITH CALLOUTS UNLESS SAID PERSON IS CONTRIBUTING TO REAL WORLD ABUSE! youll find out more about this in my byf/dni!

DISCLAIMER

ALL WHO FAIL TO LISTEN WILL BE BLOCKED! ACCOUNTS POSTING HARMFUL OR ABUSIVE CONTENT WILL BE REPORTED, NO IF ANDS OR BUTS!

I RESPECT YOUR DNI, SO PLEASE, RESPECT MINE, ANTIS, MINORS*, AND PRO-CONTACTS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT WITH ME!

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reddogf13 · 2 days

Note

What headcannons/trivia do you have on Val?

slightly depends on the story I'm going for.

i think for the most part though, loosely to follow canon:

childhood/ family-ish

- Val has a bit more education then many of Knoths followers. Very likely by someone close, like her parents. Which prob did help her rise the ladder of deconhood.

- I believe she was born into the cult, but perhaps her grandparents + young adult parents joined.

- when she was young, by choice, she became an eunuch. (castrated.) or a sort of, based on actual history, a *castrado/ crastradi.

kinda some canon stuff around it, or left on the cutting floor(heh) by redbarrels. Art of Val with bloody lower parts possibly by self mutilation. Its mentioned in letters she cant have kids, which makes sense if deacons weren't allowed to have children as it'd be a distraction from church duty's. But also that despite her revolt, you'd think she'd be obsessed about making kids herself afterwards (if it wasn't a physical limitation). Being the parent of the Antichrist with easily acceptable/ consenting followers on her side of the river etc etc.

*a castrado/ crastradi was a very young boy (like 7yo - 9yo) who performed in opera, but before passing puberty was castrated. The point was to stop puberty in order to retain their higher pitched immature voices to preserve their opera careers. This procedure was illegal, aside from opera it also involved churches. This affected them in many other physical ways such as bone structure, lack of facial hair and having womanly figures to the point others assumed they were women until having personal interactions with them.

A castrado/ crastradi is different from a eunuch in that the early is before puberty while the other is after.

Very fascinating to read about. :v/

many people pass, in general vals self mutilation, off story wise because it “cant be done.” from blood loss to infection, etc etc. but they did do it years ago with above in very similar conditions. Kids were handed a bottle of heavy alcohol to knock out, get castrated, and wake up days later to a “good luck with your extreme pain” and no modern medicine. Some doctors who did it tried to be more merciful and kept the kids heavily drunk for DAYS after. (if we can have a nanobot swarm and experiments running around, Val surviving a castration can get a pass.)

anywhooo, I like placing Val on the cusp of castrado/ crastradi and eunuch to “explain” her physical “oddities.” where she was castrated maybe close to/ very beginning of puberty, but not quite in it. (and in some other story's I just made her a hermaphrodite, but I prefer the other idea.)

Adult life

- before the Murkoff tower went haywire and Knoth ordered her kids dead. she was stern, but a lot softer in an actual motherly way. Being a deacon was all about managing the community and kind of like a manager position. Planning events, setting up for church assembly's, seeing to peoples spiritual needs. Enough so that she got a following of her own to split away with later. Being charming and a good listening ear would have added onto that and I imagine Knoth may have rarely taken advice or suggestions. Even if she subtly fed it to him in a -make it his idea- way.

- her relationship with Marta I take as coworker friends of convenience. They hang out around work/ on break, but nothing past that. So when Val eventually broke off, Marta didn't care for or miss her.

- When things broke down/ child cull it was a horrible combo that lead her down, probably a few mental breakdowns as well, the most anti-god path she could go. It may have even started in a drug addiction like way. Feeling major freedom to energized before the bigger issues of addiction showed.

Because she interacts with the radio signals differently it may have given her an energy buzz that physically felt nice in more ways then one. And leaned into it, because there was obviously a lot going on in her life. To be away from it meant she had to face herself and her own children's blood on her hands. With absolutely no one there to help her, she was more so the advice giver as head deacon. Not the other way around. The only other person for that would've been Knoth, and we know he probably guilted, blamed and shrugged what traumas she had going on.

Leading into the radio towers being faulty, she got the courage to start those secret meetings. And going against Knoths teachings more freely.

Such as the note of a lady telling Knoth that Val was trying to have her go someplace secret. Suggesting “something sexual.” but also interesting was them noting Val's behavior as odd in comparison (doesn't define what). Which could be taken two ways- Val was a nightmare before and the offer is even more terrifying or that their personality has done a 180, and not acting like her normal self.

Not knowing what it was, she could only go with it being a god like power or a watchful being of some sort. She knew something/ someone was THERE, just not where. As if attempting to grab onto fog because she didn't have all the pieces to connect the tower/ Murkoff and so such.

over time the addiction issues came out like nightmares/ hallucinations/ physically ill etc. by the time she may have noticed things going poorly, she had no way to back out as the signals got worse. Feeding into it certainly had not helped.

Making this whole separate personality that over took her life and even made her forget what was going on. like with Blake going through the school, but hers would have been the children's cull as its based off of ones inner guilt. Feeling repeated waves of guilt + revived hatred would have easily lead her down a dark road to cause as much misery as possible to Knoth/ his followers. Adding on the sexual thrill crossing into violent killings the radio waves cause as well and its all the more a mess.

This whole part really requires its own novel length dissection and break down its worsening progress. from its beginnings to really get the meat of the massive shift of personality's. If you consider all the mentioned notes dates happening within a year. Then the children's cull happened in early March. Then a few months later started the heretics in June. then four (seven from the cull) months later Blake and Lynn crash into Temple Gate in October. You can see how fast Temple Gate really began to break down under the faulty tower despite existing for 40 years. Weather or not the experiment began only recently and not alongside its establish date.

#outlast 2 #val outlast

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