#it isn't fucking hard

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

#writeblr #warm up #this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru #but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist #ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school. #like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it. #was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes. #but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create'' #when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work #part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just #like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent. #speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r #ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week #this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice. #''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism #imagine if we said that about literally any other profession. #''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt? #u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky'' #we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY #''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''

[fangsandfeels]

I've seen the "Non-ascended Astarion ending is bad for him because you have to persuade him to reject the ritual" opinion...

..implying that he never really wanted not to ascend, it's you the player who selfishly forces him to give up on his goal. To prove their point, they state that you can get a good ending out of all other companion's quests without using Persuasion at all, except for Astarion.

And boy did I want to talk about this...

(In fact, everything I wanted to say has already been told in this amazing meta post, but I still gotta ramble)

First of all, Astarion was going through an intense PTSD. The game gave him a debuff to show how badly going back to the place of his torment was affecting him. Larian couldn't make it more obvious that he wasn't thinking clearly.

Second, there is one thing all abusers have in common: they destroy their victim's feelings of self-worth to the point, the victim no longer wants or knows how to ask for help or have relationships outside their abusive circle.

Who would want you like this? Look at yourself, you think you're better than me? You're nothing. Who would want to waste their time on you? You think somebody else would treat you better?

Since entering the Cazador's palace, Astarion is reliving his worst moments. Initially, he takes it in stride, hiding his discomfort underneath performative and emotional expressiveness. He talks about how he spent time in the bedrooms where he never did any sleeping, about the kennels where he was tortured, about the barracks where he was sent to when he "deserved neither carrot nor stick". Bad memories, but he shares them with Tav because he trusts them with his scars already. They might as well know the rest.

But after descending into the dungeon, Astarion starts spiraling into self-loathing at a break-neck speed. He used to think that all Cazador victims he ever brought to him were long gone, drained, and discarded. A horrible, undeserved death, yet the thought of them not having to suffer for too long was a small consolation, one of the threads holding his sanity together.

But then it turns out that they weren't dead. They were turned. Locked away deep underground, alone with their new selves, with the hunger and isolation. They did suffer. All these years, they suffered, buried in this tomb - because of him. Cazador may have turned them, but it was Astarion who brought them to him. And they remembered it. They recognized him. The monster who stole them from their home. The monster who ruined their life. Monster. Just like Cazador.

So, as if his PTSD wasn't enough, this revelation was another blow to his grip on himself, his perception of himself. His confident facade was shattering - and in his head, he was starting to think that Tav's idea of him, of who he is, was shattering as well. He tried to warn them before. He said he couldn't be what they saw in him. Whatever person they believed him to be had never existed - and Tav was finally coming to realize that as they walked through the gallery of his sins, looking his victims in the eyes and hearing out what they had to say. Of course, Tav hated him now. They had to. How could they not?

So, at the end, he is scared. Terrified. He bit off more than he could chew by walking into the manor and thinking he had only six fellow spawns to deal with. He saw their lives as a small price to pay because Cazador made sure to erase any solidarity between them. He made them torture each other and compete with each other. He twisted the very meaning of family bonds to his perverted liking, and he knew that by doing so, he would make sure every single one of them would get a whiplash from anyone trying to mention family in a positive connotation. Astarion takes no issue with getting rid of his "brothers" and "sisters" because he is fully aware that had the roles been reversed, they would have sacrificed him without a second thought. And he was certain that Tav would change their mind once they learned more about his brethren.

But the spawns in the dungeon...All the faces he remembered. All the lovers he lured. They did nothing wrong. They never hurt him. They never tortured him. Their only mistake was to trust him.

The revelation horrifies him. His first response is to be shocked, overwhelmed with emotion - and then he has to remind himself that sacrifices must be made. He feigns indifference. He tries to cover his internal conflict with gallows humor. But his flippant mask keeps slipping as he lapses from indifference to anger, to guilt, to begging Tav not to hate him as his greatest crimes glare back at him and claw at him, shouting out threats and seething with hatred.

He can't bear the thought of dealing with all the people whose lives he helped to destroy. He can't do anything for them. Just killing Cazador won't undo what he did to them. He will never be anything but a monster in their eyes. And this is what he deserves to be. He will always be reminded of what he is.

He has no choice but to do the Ritual.

He has no idea what will happen to him after he is done - he isn't a planner. He has never been. But at this point, he doesn't see his soul as something worthy of preserving - and by association, he extends that to other spawns. He knows it all too well because he remembers how it felt. He dissociates, projecting everything he hated about himself onto Cazador's victims, trying to rationalize why he should live and why they must die while he actively avoids the truth.

Completing the ritual is no longer about being free. Or protecting himself and his lover. It's about running away. Even when Astarion has Cazador at his mercy, he still thinks of running away. Getting lost forever. So nobody could ever hurt him.

A part of him even realizes that it means running away from Tav too. But Tav can leave, he naively thinks, not knowing the full consequences of the ritual. Tav will leave to find someone else, someone better, and he will start everything anew, a king of his castle.

So, of course, Tav has to reach out to him through that thick haze of fear, anger, and self-hatred. Persuasion isn't about strongarming someone into doing what you want. It's not subjugation or emotional blackmail. It's reasoning with someone. And that is exactly what Tav does - reasons with Astarion after watching him mentally struggle, after seeing his genuine shock and fear, after understanding that he isn't fully on board with the idea.

It's true, vampire spawns tend to gravitate toward power, especially if nothing is pulling them back. A vampire spawn is a feared and scorned creature - it no longer matters whether they were an unwilling victim, forcefully taken and turned. They are seen not as an individual but as the extension of their master - and the only natural transition for them is to get on the top of the food chain. The only way to make a name and become treated as something more.

Astarion saw power as the mean to safety and freedom, first and foremost. Ironically, he never planned beyond securing these two priorities. He never saw himself after accomplishing his goals, and it's kinda amazing how people can make conclusions about his hedonism because he misses petty vanities, wants to drink blood from a goblet, and sleep on silken sheets. The man who was held and tortured in the kennels, fed rats, and had to stitch and fix his only set of clothes over and over to keep it presentable, the man who has never felt happy for most of his conscious non-life is called hedonistic for wanting nice things. For still wanting to take care of himself for once.

He wasn't harboring any grand plans, conquests, or schemes. Even his idea of taking control of the Absolute was abstract and shapeless because he didn't care about getting control over the most influential people as much as he was afraid of breaking whatever protected him from Cazador's domination. He never really knew what to do with power aside from keeping Cazador and the likes of him at bay.

The way Astarion behaves in a relationship also speaks tons of how controlling he really is...or how he isn't controlling at all. When his romance with Tav transforms into something real, and he enters a new territory, Astarion is empowered to make decisions and think about what he wants instead of pleasuring others. It's clear that he and Tav don't have sex after they come clear about their feelings. Tav respects his comfort and boundaries, gives him all the time he needs, and lets him take the lead. Whether they will have sex again or not is entirely up to Astarion. Whatever he decides, it won't change Tav's feelings for him. He doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want to do.

Astarion enjoys this new autonomy. He is playful, affectionate, outspoken...and afraid of messing everything up. If Tav mentions breaking up, Astarion thinks he is the problem. If there is another potential love interest showing they have eyes for Tav, Astarion encourages Tav to be with them because he believes they can give Tav everything he can't. When Tav says "I choose you," Astarion is taken aback, needing a moment to hide his genuine confusion at Tav actually wanting to be with him rather than Gale, Karlach, or Halsin.

For all his talks of control and dominating others, once Astarion finds himself with a lover who values his autonomy more than getting power at the cost of his dignity, who makes it safe for him to be honest, and who listens to him, he almost stops mentioning control. He merely lives in the moment, happy not to know, not to pretend, not to manipulate. Just to be.

What Astarion truly craves - not wants on a superficial level, not conditioned to want - is not to be a vampire lord. He wants the freedom to be anything. Anything he wants. Little does he know that true vampires rarely get to be anything they want, even if they gain the ability to walk in the sun -- we see it in his Ascended path as, instead of acting up on his supposed freedom to be anything, Astarion repeats Cazador's rules step by step. Just like Cazador did. Just like Verlioth did. He isn't anything he wants. He is the replica of his former master.

Astarion never had the luxury to explore who he wanted to be outside what Cazador made him. He only makes his first steps once he is free. We see glimpses of that deep-seated aspiration to be seen as a person. Treated like a person. Loved like a person. To be reflected in someone's eyes. He wants to know if there is someone beneath his usual mask, something his, not tainted by Cazador. Someone real. And at the same time, he dreads to know the answer. Because that part of him knows regret. Knows shame. Knows guilt. Confronting it posed the risk of realizing he didn't deserve love, kindness, or a future. What if real him truly doesn't amount to anything? What else for him to do?

So, he tells himself that he has no choice, and he expects Tav to affirm it -- not because he wants them to, but because he believes that Tav has seen enough to make the same conclusion. However, Tav objects, trying to be louder than all the inner demons hissing into his ears. Tav speaks to the Astarion, who asked them what they saw when they looked at him. The Astarion, who thanked them for standing by his side when he said "No" to Araj. The Astarion one who stood frozen in their hug before returning it tentatively. The Astarion who diligently, dedicatedly, caringly kept pulling himself together instead of letting himself unravel completely.

Tav reminds him that this Astarion, right here, right now, is worth fighting for. That he didn't survive all these years of torture, pain, humiliation, and dehumanization to give himself up now. He already has the power to avenge himself, avenge all Cazador's victims. He can end everything right here, right now - and this is the only power to free him. He has the power (and responsibility) of having a choice.

Tav empathizes with other spawns as victims not because they're more "innocent" than Astarion, but because associating with them doesn't brand Astarion as weak or broken. These spawns aren't horrible wretches, and neither is he. They don't deserve this, and neither did he.

The only one who deserves to die today is Cazador - the vampire, the monster, the pathetic piece of shit.

Astarion Ancunin deserves to live.

#bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion brainrot #astarion spoilers #they didn't have to make his arc hit so hard as it does #but I'm glad they did #i'm even glad that cazador isn't involved in the plot #fuck this guy

[yesmissnyx]

An Unsexy Post About Censorship

Sooo...gumroad is shutting down NSFW content sales because of Stripe and Paypal. This is also why Wishtender has been down as well, if you weren't aware. And why Patreon is also cracking down on anything remotely kinky.

(If you're wondering why your favorite FICTIONAL sexual content isn't allowed on most platforms, it's payment processors.)

Please be extra kind to anyone who works with NSFW content right now, whether it be art, writing, audio, photos or video. Whether it be tasteful erotica, or the kinkiest BDSM porn you can think of, we're all in the crosshairs right now.

And, judging by trends from these past few years, this is only going to get worse.

Support NSFW creators where you can, whether by tipping or buying our content (where you still can) or just helping boost content on sites where algorithms want to drown us out.

Call representatives where you can and complain about payment processors acting as arbiters of what YOU are and aren't allowed to pay for and enjoy.

This may be about porn right now, but censorship of this caliber doesn't just stop with porn. Any transgressive (read: non-conservative) media is fair game.

Fight against it where you can. Support creators where you can.

Art is important. Reflections of our sexuality are important. We don't want a world where people aren't free to make or see the things they love and enjoy.

#nyxrambles #Warning: I'm going to get kind of grim in the tags so peace out of you have to. #This bums me out so fucking hard! #I have artist friends who are struggling because their content suddenly goes against these stupid fucking guidelines! #I'm going to have to take my stuff off of Gumroad even though it was previously allowed! #It's hard to not feel like everything is just spiraling toward fascism sometimes yanno? #I am usually opposed to slippery slope arguments but the goal of moral conservativism is to destroy everything that isn't in line with it. #They will not stop until the world reflects their narrow ideals. Like...that's the whole point of it! #Sorry guys I'm just having a rough one. #Between this and being sick for months I'm getting pretty fucking Done. #I'll be okay but I'm not going to pretend it isn't hard and scary.

[rustedhills]

Disney, releasing Wish: "so it's all about legacy--the new generation surpassing the old, overcoming the evils perpetuated by them, relinquishing singular power... and there's an old man in a tower, uh... animal sidekick, i guess..., ah... magic...?

Miyazaki, just out of frame, sledgehammer raised:

#the boy and the heron #not tagging wish 'cause i'm being a little acidic #this isn't to be negative in the slightest--I really respect both films--but it's interesting to see how visceral boy+H gets with its story #what evils have to be rejected and what they represent--and how characters and the world suffer from those evils--as well as how the whole #'rejecting' part goes. in terms of animation powerhouses discussing their legacies - disney and miyazaki both - I find it interesting that #one makes a pretty safe and nostalgic movie about imagination and dreams; the other is a long trudge through the land of the dead. #b+h is a hard watch - and a look at the legacy of a man questioning his whole purpose in the world - after his cultural touchstones #have long passed by. Mahito needs to understand his grief to keep living--but if he drowns in it he'll just continue the cannibalistic and #violent world of his granduncle. how the hell do you make art when the trauma of your entire life has colored it forever? How can anyone? #maybe after a while... it's time to detonate that damn tower and keep living. #this is to say #if you have enough money to make whatever you want #Make It Fucking Count

[clown-owo]

a little bit obsessed with this guy

#og post #my art #WxS #wonderlands x showtime #project sekai #pjsk #rui kamishiro #tsukasa tenma #ruikasa #i will not tag emu or nene because they are kind of in the background. even though i tried very hard on them #<- first time drawing any of these guys #i'll be honest i haven't even done much of the stories at all just WxS's main story and One Event Story (the first rui one i think) #had to learn what the fuck is goin on with tsukasa's goddamn jacket. what the fuck is on the sides. i lied i didn't learn #i just drew it #i drew rui's outfit and went aw fuck now i have to draw tsukasa's #the ruikasa isn't important like yeah sure its ruikasa but what's important is rui's strange love language #that one 4koma about rui's flowchart leading 2 an explosion stunt? courting ritual /hell

[kordyceps]

wheezes into my coffee cup about THEM

#art korner #steter #stiles stilinski #peter hale #steter art #steter fanart #teen wolf #oh my god drawing characters based on real people is so hard #particularly peter #fuck you and your beautiful and difficult face ian bohen #this isn't very exciting as far as artwork goes but i'd never drawn them before and had to get a feel for it lol #please send help it's 2023 and somehow i've fallen into steter hell and cannot get out

[starcurtain]

I think the most amazing thing about Alhaitham's ironic question "How has realizing your ideals gone for you?" is that yes, on the surface, it pierced through the heart of Kaveh's feelings at the time and forced him to reflect on whether he still had enough belief to keep going, but--BUT--

This is also Alhaitham subtly asking: "Was your life better without me?"

Kaveh left their friendship because of his ideals.

Kaveh's attempts to realize his beliefs began in earnest during his argument with Alhaitham, who challenged him back then by suggesting that Kaveh didn't honestly believe in his ideals and was just pursuing them out of guilt and a desire to punish himself for his father's death.

Kaveh's attempt to "realize his ideals," therefore, spans the exact amount of time he and Alhaitham have been separated. When Alhaitham asks about Kaveh's attempts, he's asking very specifically about the course Kaveh's life took when he was no longer in it.

How did it go for you? Were you happier? Was it worth it?

I truly believe that Kaveh will be able resolve his conflict with Alhaitham--and come to understand Alhaitham's actual feelings--when he realizes that, in that exact moment, he should have turned the question around:

How did realizing your ideals go for you, Alhaitham?

Was your life better off without me?

No.

#genshin impact #alhaitham #kaveh #haikaveh #kavetham #Kaveh was so worried about whether he should keep his own ideals #that he never even noticed how much Alhaitham's changed #Alhaitham's line in Parade of Providence #about how being correct isn't the same as being right #was sooo telling #it's not about compromising your beliefs #but about learning how to pursue them without compromising yourself #both of them had to feel the sting of pursuing their own beliefs too far #to realize that you need balance #Kaveh's pursuit of ideals that cost him everything was Alcazarzaray #but Alhaitham's pursuit of ideals was the fight that lost him Kaveh #Sumeru was saved because Alhaitham learned his lesson about egoism #and Alhaitham was able to save Kaveh in turn #it's so fucking clean my god this writing #Hoyo cooked so hard with this ship not even Gordon Ramsey can complain

[hotluncheddie]

high masking autistic steve harrington follow on from this post

ao3

wc: 2.6k | rated: T | cw: description of a meltdown with semi aggressive stimms | tags: autistic steve harrington (and eddie and robin but this is about stevie), hurt/comfort, stobin soulmates, steddie, steve Harrington has shitty parents

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

he failed. he graduated. but he failed. those unsaid words between him and his parents. some get said. the bad ones, about him, they get said. over again like he’s 5 and being told is behaviour isn’t acceptable. that how he is isn’t right. ‘shape up or ship out’, basically. steve knows he can’t go anywhere new, not right now. only freshly recovered, physically at least. mentally; he’s still unacceptable. 

when steve works at scoops. it’s so fucking bright in there. so fucking bright, all day and he can’t focus and talking to people gets so much harder. it’s not like school where he can zone out in class and turn it on during lunch, in between, keep up his face with the people around him and sink back into his head during chemistry. no. now it’s all the time, customer after customer. that he has to talk to, put on a smile for, read so he gives them what they want and they leave happy. it’s exhausting. girls don’t like him anymore, they don’t react to him the same way. he doesn’t think he likes them much either though because they’re so much more annoying when it’s so fucking bright. 

but robin (robin who cycles to work with sunglasses on and doesn’t take them off till she has too) she turns the lights down during open and close. so those couple hours, it’s not so bad. not so stressful. a little bit less loud. 

after the mall burns down steve starts letting her in. tries too. she makes it obvious enough to him that she wants him there. she asks him to stay and calls him at night and he just wants to be enough for her. eventually he’d swallowed his pride and bolstered his courage and called her after a string of nightmares. asking her to stay the night. but then she was there, and it was like everything was thrown off. she was grating on his already freyed nerves but he didn’t know what to say. how to fix it without upsetting her. 

but that night, a mirror of the mall bathroom played out in steves en-suite. steve had freaked. hidden. but she didn’t leave. and he tried to explain. 

he needs her but he doesn’t know how to have her as a true friend. ‘i dunno how to talk to a girl if i don’t wanna date them. i uh, maybe, don’t really know how to talk to someone as myself. as a friend. sorry.’ 

‘well i don’t know how to talk to jocks so. same boat.’ and she has this glint in her eye. like she knows. and it’s okay. 

because robin, she made it simple. she makes it easy. she says just ask and she’ll be honest and give him a yes or no. she’ll say if she can’t be touched right now, or if the movie he chose is pissing her the fuck off. and she wants the same from him. if the music is too loud, if she needs to let him not speak for a while. wants him honest and present and real. real friends. someone close. finally. 

it’s rocky at first. she’s honest and he’s not used to it. it feel like criticism more often than not. makes him see red and lash out, like he was never able to with his parents. but he apologises and she stays. and he’s learning; that’s it’s okay, he’s not perfect and that means she’s knowing the real him. and she’s still his best friend even if he has to tell her to stop picking her nail polish off around him because it makes him want to die. and she laughs at him the first time she sees him in real recovery mode; hair not styled and he has on the only sweatshirt that ever feels good when he’s like this. 

they lay on the floor in darkness and silence. it’s perfect. they share a tin of soup and a grilled cheese. it’s perfect. 

being around robin as much as he is, its so new, having someone see so many parts of you. sometimes she laughs at him asking steve ‘why’d your voice change?’ but steve didn’t even know it had. he was, he was just talking to someone else quick, being nice like you’re supposed to, attentive to make them feel good. he didn’t know his voice changed that much. 

‘girls would like you more if you talked normal to them. how you do to me.’ 

steve swallowed thickly. he just. he just doesn’t know that thats true. nancy left, he talked to her about lots of things, too many things. she like him better at the start. before some of his black tar innards spilled out. before he freaked. before he was able to paste himself back together and she saw him for what he really is. 

he thinks of his parents. how they don’t know him and still don’t like him. anxiety prickles at his fingertips at the thought of those times they do come home. 

because with them there the routine he’s carved for himself, those quiet moments of darkness that he so craves. they’re gone. now it’s tv static and plates clanging and having to show his face at dinner again. but he’s not ten anymore. now he’s an adult whose still drowning in the tension of the room, never able to say what’s really going on, never allowed to ask how they really feel, never taught how to figure his feeling out. no listening ear for steve as a child, and the ice only grew thicker with time. 

it’s his skin itching at his mother stirring her tea across the house, spoon agains porcelain. it’s the hair on the back of his neck standing up at the sound of ice clinking in his fathers scotch glass. it’s triggered memories playing over and over again. it’s being plagued, by ghosts who haunt him, who left but come back every so often, like poltergeists. polietgists with the deed to the house, and ownership over steve, through blood and fear alone. 

‘when they get back you come to mine steve yeah? you come home.’

because now theres not just robin. there’s eddie. 

he sees everything. and more. even when steve’s trying to hide. eddie sees. 

he noticed steve squinting at the hospital and asked the nurse to turn the lights down. he saw how he started zoning out at a diner with the kids, their arguing reaching a pitch, asked steve to keep him company for a smoke break. once they were outside eddie said he just needed a moment, ‘those kids can be animals’. said it and looked a him like he didn’t need an answer, let steve just breathe a focus on the sound of the wind. 

it’s like there’s a million tiny moments, a million tiny cracks in him forming the more he’s around eddie. like his soft underbelly is mewling any time he’s around, wanting attention, wanting to let eddie see. let eddie touch. 

eddie used to look at him sometimes, across the lunch hall. stare at him with an expression steve couldn’t really make sense of. he used to think it was judgment, annoyance. now he wonders if that face was confusion or interest. maybe eddie’s always been trying to figure steve out. 

once it starts. them. eddie’s everywhere. more somehow, maybe, than robin because, you know, they go there. but it’s different, from those time, with those girls. instead now he’s there and his brains off and on in a, like, magical way. a new way that makes him feel whole and, and beautiful. 

this thing they have. it’s fragile. it’s not perfect. he messes up, takes him a moment to grasp how eddie can be so so himself, always, no matter what. especially when it causes him problems. ‘why not just try and fit in?’ but the stone faced reply told steve that was the wrong thing to say, he didn’t get it but he needed to respect it. respect eddie and his choices. ‘i’m not like you steve, even if my brain shit was all gone i’d still be poor, i’d still be othered. still be a gay weirdo little freak.’ 

and steve is trying to get it. he’s learning to recognise that it’s sadness and confusion in eddie’s eyes when he visits him at work, knowing steve is having a bad day and watching him pretend. watching that mask form thick and fast, hiding the real him, protecting but also keeping everyone far far away. steve thinks maybe they’re living parallels. finding different ways to survive. neither better, neither worse. both far from perfect. 

then that pinched sadness in eddie’s eyes. watching steve pretend. cover up. that damn breaks eventually. eddie sees all of him and more. those bits he always kept locked inside. between he and himself. it all comes spilling out. 

they were supposed to be going out soon. but eddie wasn’t feeling it anymore ‘let’s just stay here, be cozy a little longer. what do you say, sweetheart?’ it does sound nice. steves so tired. but they decided. they had a plan. 

‘we said we would. and i have to buy that thing eddie. we had a plan. and i have to go to work later, so we have to do it before. like we said and then i have to work eddie.’ and before he knows it there’s tears prickling his eyes and the ceiling fan is so loud and the desk lamp is too bright and he smacks a fist to the top of his head and it hurts a little but he’s so frustrated and so overwhelmed and so confused and embarrassed, suddenly. and he can’t breath. why can’t he breath? they had a plan. 

they were supposed to go see hopper and pick something up and he has to talk to him and ask about the game because he needs hopper to like him because it’s better when el can come when all the kids hangout. it’s important that she’s happy so hopper needs to trust steve so steve was going to talk to him today and pick something up. it was the plan. hopper makes him nervous but that was the plan. and then he had to go to work. but now he can’t breathe and he feels like he needs something to hurt. 

‘but he already trusts you with el stevie. hop trusts you with anything.’ 

‘i can’t know that. not for sure. when i talk to him it needs to be perfect.’ steve paces. a pinch at his arm. a tug at his hair. pivot. pace. repeat. 

‘i heard what he said to you steve, on your birthday, he was calling you son all day. you don’t need to prove anything to him.’ 

‘i do eddie! you don’t understand. people, they lie. adults lie. they don’t say things the way they mean. i can’t fuck up talking to him. not like i always fuck up talking to my parents. i need to do it better. do it differently. because everyone always leaves. and i just don’t want to be alone again.’ and the tears really start to fall and steve can barely breath and he’s so embarrassed. shaking hands try and cover his face but the tears slip through. 

and all he can think about is the plan. going to work. his vest hanging by the door. the way the plastic tapes feel in his hands. the smell of the bleach they mop the back room with. the day stretches before him. so many things in the way. so much anxiety still to come. if he can’t start, it can’t end. he gnaws at his lip. thumps a hand to his chest, trying to breath right, trying to ground. 

‘i have to go to work’ he mutters. like a prayer. speak it in to happening. taking him away from the now. thump thump thump at his chest. ear ringing. 

eddie’s holding his arms out, giving steve the option. he speaks so calmly, so earnest. ‘you can’t go to work steve. not like this baby.’

steve rounds on him. angry. when did everything get so messed up? if he was just left alone. he should’ve stayed on his own. ‘i cant just call in sick eddie! i’m not sick and and i hate the way they’ll sound when i say it over the phone and knowing what they’ll be thinking about me. they’ll know i hate the job and think i’m lazy and realise how stupid and useless i am and fire me. i can’t afford to get fired eddie. i’d rather just go in.’ he know it comes out garbled, his cheeks on fire. 

‘i’m not letting you go in steve. i’ll sort it. i’ll go pick up robin before and she’ll cover for you, she’ll explain. and she would never. ever think that of you.’ eddie’s voice dropped octave. he speaks clearly and plainly and finally there’s a new plan to follow. a new rule for the day. 

and all steve can do is curl up in a ball and sob. curl up in a ball against eddie chest, in his arms, squeezing his t-shirt between his fingers. clenching his muscles tight, his teeth grinding together. grunting out some of the decade old scream, still stuck there but more visible to him now. 

until finally finally, he relaxes. spent and exhausted. too afraid to open his eyes and face the lamplight, face what could be in eddie’s expression. he drifts..

eventually he gets up, blows his nose and splashed water on his face, turns off all the lights and get back under the warm blanket. fills his lungs. sighs. whispers, ‘m’sorry’ 

‘don’t say that. there’s nothing to apologise for’ eddie’s so close, so warm. 

‘no one’s supposed to ever, see that.. it’s okay if you want to leave’ 

‘steve. why the fuck would i leave you right now?’ 

‘who’d wanna date someone who acts like that? it’s. it’s not good eddie. but, but it’s okay. i’m used to being alo-.’ 

‘please stop stevie. your breaking my heart here. i want to stay, i want to be here with you. i really really like you steve.’ and steve’s cheeks feel wet again. he feels flayed open and young, like a little kid who fell off the swings and everything is different suddenly. 

later later when eddie picks robin up from work she stalks in to where steve’s wrapped up on the couch. curls up into his side and exhales. she bites into his bicep. huffing a sad, annoyed little ‘dingus’ before grabbing his hand and fiddling with his fingers. 

steve feels his eyes prickle again. looking up at the ceiling he croaks out a small ‘sorry.’ for the day. for everything. for anything he can be. and everything he can’t. 

robin kneels on the sofa right next to him. growling a little and placing one of her hands at his sternum and the other at the same height on his back. like she’s forcing herself inside him, holding him together. her hands start to rub up and down quickly, frenzied and grounding for both of them. steve let’s his head hang. eyes closing at the sensation. he grunts. robin grunts back. 

eddie joins. sitting at his other side. slipping a hand in steve’s hair, soothing his scalp with long scratching fingers. and steve humms, sighs, keens. eyes closed he drifts but not away from his body, instead into it. with gratitude, and warmth. at the centre of the two best things that ever happened to him. willing to try again. be just, better. never perfect. 

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

pt 3 snippet

a little happier for u @pearynice <3

ty @spectrum-spectre @vampyreddiemunson @fangirlycupcake @grandwretch for ur tags and additions, it was very inspiring

and tags for lovely @irethsune @willim-billiam-byerson @2jug2head

#hope this is okay #i know the comfort isn't like loads but #unmasking is fucking hard #and hes simply doing his best #autistic steve harrington #steddie #platonic stobin #hotlunch #my fic #steve harrington needs a hug #but he gets one so its okay #feel nervous about posting this but let’s fucking go my dudes #pls let me know if u like it 👉👈

[hayaku14]

kaito buying every ticket to every soccer game available just to see that excited look on shinichi's face

#kaishin #kuroba kaito #kudou shinichi #dcmk #detective conan #dc prattles #pls ignore the badly drawn parts lmao i just wanted to let this out ughhhh #okay but kaito takes shinichi to all the soccer games cos he wanna see him get all excited and giddy #it's something that brings shinichi joy that's outside from the usual murder and mystery and the pure unadulterated joy on his face and the #passion he has for the sport is so intoxicating kaito is addicted #plus he just wants to make shinichi happy ;-; #also soccer isn't the most interesting thing to kaito but it's not completely boring either #not when shinichi is excitedly fawning over both the team he's supporting and the opposing team #talking a mile a minute just gushing over their form and their strat and whatever tf soccer things there is to gush about LMAO #BASICALLY KAITO IS MESMERIZED AND BEGUILED BY SOCCER OTAKU SHINICHI OKAY #also i have a lot to say about a kaishin socmed au but that's for another post lmao #i was gonna go on a whole tangent here but i realized i have too many thoughts on that i'll just make a separate post LOL #also i haven't properly drawn in a while pls don't look at it too hard LMAO just know it's shinichi getting excited over a goal or a steal #and literally everyone in the venue is looking on the other side meanwhile kaito is distracted by the biggest smile on shinichi's face #OOOOOHHHH I FUCKING LOVE KAISHIN UGGGHHHH #also in this au the world cup is organized by good people because fuck fifa

[winepresswrath]

sudden yearning for time travelling teen jiang fengmian lands at lotus pier fic that winds up being about a perfectly nice kid having a varying series of "oh no. i don't like that. that's a lot" reactions.

#i think in order for this to be satisfying i have to give grace and interiority to teenmian #i'm picturing an older teen like 18ish? maybe even early 20s? #big crush on csr he's already pretty sure isn't going to work out #but at least he'll always have wei-xiong #anyway this is my ploy to give jfm a chance at an ugly crying meltdown #he's trying so hard to be even keeled and like #maybe take this as an evil vision designed to teach him something #but somewhere in between my crush stole my man and then they died #my whole sect burned #my grown ass son who is older than me making the vibe sooooo weird #and my grandson! child of my dead???? daughter?????? #is just like yeah he never talks about you. no never never #and then wwx blows into town and idk somehow they all end up at dinner together and jfm politely calls lqr a punk ass bitch in front of lwj #because what???? context clues suggest lqr has the fucking nerve to not like wei xiong's baby after All That #only for adult son with the weird vibes #to imply only filial piety is keeping him from naming the real #punk ass bitch #anyway this ends with jfm crying because clearly he marries yuanyuan and she HATES HIM and then his own son ALSO HATES HIM #and would rather stupid Lan-er-gongzi #be his dad. #if you like lqr so much why don't you just join the lan sect then????? #and that's how jc learns he didn't get it all from his mama #jc didn't mean it he was stressed! this isn't his dad it's an a-ling sized kid. but it's still stressful

[jesteringbug]

Wow! Your Ignihyde redesigns are so fucking ugly! So hideous and uninspired, and their ugliness is only amplified by your very poor drawing skills and even uglier art style! And it's laughable how you really believe that you did better than the official designs, never do that again, you can't design or draw for shit.

too late i'm already planning a heartslabyul redesign lmao

#hate ask 101 #darling i think you should stop using the multiple exclamation marks cuz they end up making you look like a cartoon villain and instead #upsetting me you just made me crackle #no one is gonna take your hate serious like that :( you wouldn't want that #also sweetheart why you acting like i killed your family i promise miss yana isn't going to come knocking on the door to thank you for #hard effort #also are you illiterate or did you willingly ignore the part where i wrote 'i don't think the design is bad and i think it's quite stylish'? #i hope you have a good day #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst #riddle rosehearts #heartslabyul #twst fanart #mine #my art #idk fucking seethe ig

[tranakin-skywalker]

Who needs a jungle gym when your dad works just fine

#myart #togrutakin #togruta anakin skywalker #togruta luke skywalker #togruta leia organa #togruta skywalkers #went with the canon tog design for this one #luke has shmi's coloration and leia has her markings #which certainly makes me feel some sort of way #also anakin's coloration is a lot more vibrant here because for once in his life he isn't stressed the fuck out #guy is moisturized and thriving #also can i just say #designing naboo casual wear? hard #anakin's outfit was loosely inspired by ruwee's in that one deleted scene

[oozeandgoo-art]

Stubbornness.

#oc #haven #i worked genuinely hard as fuck on this one #tfw you follow someone to their home to demand they speak with you face to face because you want to commit extreme violence on them #over a business dispute. and because they do not want you to do this they simply do not come outside. and you eventually make it clear you #will not be leaving until they come outside so you can discuss (read: harm them over) said business dispute. so they turn on their #sprinkler system and go to sleep. and you decide on the spot that this isn't that big a deal and if you leave now you'll lose ALL #credibility FOR EVER. so you decide to stand around and wait until they come out and . by the time the morning arrives you have #contracted Hypothermia and The Beginnings Of Pneumonia and also Did Not Maul That Guy #started this as a proof of concept test of doing an overpainting on super vivid red #expecting to spend like #maybe forty minutes on it #and then about uh.... like... at least seven hours later i was like okaayyyyy now im done #stay tuned i have two variants that didnt make the cut also #also the picture is big as fuck so i recommend straight up opening it into a different tab to look at details #not that there are that many #i painted it 80% at zoom-out scale

[b-rainlet]

The Green family dynamics are so interesting because like, Viserys is the father but due to his decay he seems more like the grandfather, whereas Otto is the Grandsire but seems to fill out the role of a father more, not only to his daughter but also her children, so he and his daughter are a mother/father unit but in some situations Alicent is treated like a sibling to her children (by Otto) and then you have the obvious Helaena/Aegon happening (siblings who are also husband/wife and mother/father to their children), but at the same time it seems like Aemond is the one trying to be the family's protector and attempting to step up as patriarch, with some of the scenes between him and Alicent giving off the vibes of equals rather than Mother and Son (like when they discuss Aemond finding Aegon) and his relationship with Aegon seeming like he's the big brother and not the other way around, in this essay I will-

#ALSO the way Aemond tries so hard to be the perfect son #In part to make up for Aegon obviously slacking #And also because he feels like he should've been the firstborn son #But do you ever think that maybe he's also jealous of Aegon because Aegon is allowed to fuck up #Again and again #And Alicent still loves him? #Like she obviously is affectionate toward all her children #But imagine trying to be everything your mother wants your older brother to be #And watching your older brother do everything he's not supposed to be #And somehow your mother still supports him and loves him and would quite literally die for him #And like logically you know she would do the same for you #But deep down you're also scared of ever fucking up #Because what if you're not perfect and you fuck up like your brother #And she stops loving you?? #What if you're not the golden son she never needs to worry about #And she just isn't willing to tolerate your bs the way she tolerates your brother's #What a punch in the face that would be #Anyway don't mind me I am just clawing my eyes out #hotd #aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen

[blazingblorbos]

GAY PEOPLE !!!!!!!!!!!!!

#I CAN'T!!! FUCKING STAND GAY PEOPLE #THIS ISN'T EVEN /J ANYMORE #(it is. it's /j) #blazingshitpost #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai: star rail #blazingshitpost star rail edition #I know. #I KNOW #BUT TO SEE IT #IN- IN ANIMATED FORM #HoYo you spoil us.... #AcheSwan #Acheron #Black Swan #HSR Acheron #HSR Black Swan #gays. good luck to us this one might hit hard #honkai star rail acheron #honkai star rail black swan #100 notes #thank you gay people

[bellhopping]

been thinking about my favorite pt transformation so i decided to make something to emulate that. get stamped idiot

#shoutout to boxxed transformation. they fucking killed that old man #my art #oc tag #oc: polly #cw tf #< guess I should tag this? didn't think that hard about this post whoops #I thought it was fairly innocuous but I guess it isn't. not really my intention