#DEEPLY PERSONAL ART TOO. ART WHICH I ADMITTED IN THE POST WAS ABOUT FEELINGS I WAS NOT FULLY READY TO UNPACK

[blueskittlesart]

hey so this is an insane thing to write unsolicited under someone's personal art piece

[everlastingephemera]

among the whisperings, the champagne, and the stars | Spencer Reid

— or the one where Spencer takes you home after JJ and Will’s wedding and you spend the night discussing love, finding the one, and (happy) ever-after’s on your balcony. [Spencer Reid x fem!BAU reader]

Word Count: 7.3K. Proof-read.

Content Warning: FLUFF + ANGST (the inner monologue kind). SECOND-PERSON POV. No use of Y/N. Mutual pining, hopelessly romantic idiots in love (not that they’d admit it, but man, they cannot hide it), description-heavy (one day, I will master the art of dialogue, I will!), alcohol consumption, reader wears a dress, reader has a fear of heights (allow me to project for once), space imagery, mentions of God, slight canon deviation (What is Jeid again? Does Evolution really exist? Would Spencer drink post S2? I have opinions!) Let me know of anything else that should be mentioned.

Author’s Note: Woah, almost three months since I have been here! Sorry for that but my WIPs have me locked the fuck in and I want to do them justice. This might be my favourite thing that I have ever written, hence the Gatsby reference in the title! Season 7!Spencer is my favourite thing in the world and I have an extra soft spot for him during the wedding scenes/the finale in general. Might be too romantic and sappy but I am owning it because hopeless romantic!Spencer is canon to me! Hope you guys enjoy, feedback is always appreciated, and I am looking forward to being more active on here 🫶🏻

There’s not much to be said about weddings. Well, not much, not anything, that hasn’t already been said before, at least. That doesn’t mean that people will not continue to say all of it, though. That they won’t still try to find the words to capture the feelings that such a moment inspires in everyone, the happiness that being part of them elicits. No, on the contrary. It will all keep being said, it will all keep being celebrated as if for the first time.

And there’s certainly beauty in it, in seeing two people who love each other celebrating the promise of forever with those closest to them. Those who drown them in gifts and wishes of happiness and health and a life spent adoring one another through thick and thin. Yes, there’s definitely a lot of beauty in all of it.

But there’s also a melancholy that, despite how misplaced it seems in the context of such a wonderful moment, persists and thrives on making itself known, on taking root so deeply inside of you that you cannot possibly outrun it if you tried.

Not through the dancing, not through the drinking, not even through observing Spencer’s delightfully charming magic tricks saved for keeping Henry alert enough to witness his mum and dad getting married.

You tried. Desperately. Didn’t you always, anyway? You were a good sport like that. You’d mastered the art of trying. In more ways than one, time and time again.

You agreed (not without expressing significant reluctance at first) to get up on the “dance floor” which Rossi had set up in his mansion’s ridiculously enormous garden, and ignore the embarrassment you’d undoubtedly feel as you swayed out of sync when Penelope and Emily asked you to. You weren’t that much of a party-pooper, after all. 

You also agreed to slow dance with Spencer when he had walked up to you where you had drifted off walking around the backyard, eyes staring up more at the starlit sky than the ground ahead of you, even when you’d got a little too close to the edge of the pool in your tipsy, melancholic state. As always, he’d found you just in time to prevent an accident which would have left you drenched and feeling much too sorry for yourself for the rest of the night. 

You’d agreed because you’d never been good at denying Spencer anything, especially not when he looked at you with those big, doe, hazel eyes of his, which seemed to shine even brighter under the fairy-lit environment surrounding you, and that signature tight-lipped smile he always seemed to wear when you were around. 

You’d agreed because the mere fact that he’d asked you to dance made your heart flutter like crazy, and gave you a precious excuse to be inches apart from him — your right arm wrapped loosely around his neck, your left hand intertwined with his right one, slightly sweaty from the nervousness he’d fought to approach you with his request — as he twirled you around and guided you with far more technique than you’d imagined him capable of. 

You’d agreed because he’d turned you into a flustered, smiley mess with his jokes and his tidbits and his compliments, and fuck, did it all indulge that stubborn part of you which was hellbent on falling even more in love with your best friend and colleague against all hope and odds.

While the dancing might not have come easy in itself, though, it did the job of keeping you just cheerful enough well. But the drinking was a whole other story. Of course it was. After all, isn’t alcohol almost always a person’s outlet to cope with sadness? You were no exception to the rule tonight. And a good sport as you were, you’d not managed to shut up about Rossi’s champagne and wine collection since the moment you’d arrived to help with the preparations, even beating Spencer for the title of the earliest arrival of the night. 

Frankly, you didn’t care enough to count just how many glasses of champagne you’d indulged in. Not when you had guided Derek, whose eyebrows had remained playfully raised at you the whole way there, to the buffet to help him fix his serving and refill your empty glass. Not when Hotch’s eyes had narrowed slightly as you offered Beth and Jack a far warmer welcome than you usually did. Not even when you had stood up to give your impromptu speech, toasting to the newlyweds with a throwback to those days in New Orleans during a case what seemed too long ago now, when you were still a rookie profiler, and JJ couldn’t have possibly thought she’d be here, with her two favourite boys and the rest of her friends, celebrating what’s made for her. Not even when Rossi had to cut you off eventually because, as he’d said, you are getting too wordy again, you need to leave something for the rest of us to say, too, kiddo, and Spencer had squeezed your forearm gently in an attempt to sweetly coax you into quiet. You’d grumbled as you sat back down in your chair, but still, you were proud of yourself for not messing it all up and making both JJ and Will smile. 

Even if you didn’t care, though, Spencer seemed to do that just enough for the both of you. Because right as you went to reach for yet another glass of the fizzy, sugary liquid, he’d stopped you with nothing more than another gentle squeeze, and a (terribly disguised) amused but concerned whisper of just how much you’d already had. You’ve just had your fourth one. And you really wanted to ignore his looking out for you, but goodness, he was so gentle with you, you might actually cry about it. You both knew better than to think you’d ever admit you actually enjoyed when he actively proved how much he truly cared about you. And so, again, you proved just how much of a good sport you were, and let him have his way with you. You even offered him a teasing eye-roll, alongside one of your typical, not overly bold displays of affection that came with fixing his slightly-crooked bowtie, and smiling — I guess if you think I’m no fun drunk, doc, then I can’t have that happening. ‘m sorry, lovey. It did the job perfectly, tinting his earlobes a light pink colour, as he struggled to get rid of the lump in his throat your touch and your words inevitably caused.

It was when you’d been overlooking Spencer doing a magic trick for Henry, though, when that inexplicable melancholy gnawed at your insides the most, when it was especially impossible to deny it existed. 

You’d been on your way to find them to announce that JJ was all dressed and ready to walk down the aisle when you’d seen it. Spencer, looking as dapper as he ever had in that tuxedo of his, crouching down slightly to be on Henry’s level, who was now sporting a jacket slightly too large for his age, along with a tie identical to Will’s. You’d made it just in time to see Spencer extending his empty palm to Henry, his mouth open in an O shape, as he asked him if he’d seen his mum’s ring. Did you—do you have the ring, Henry? What? No? Where—Hey! Do you have the ring? He’d asked, referring to you then, voice all high-pitched as you blinked, and shook your head, your lips already turning upwards into a poorly disguised smile as you realised what was happening. Reaching behind his ear just when Henry had turned to look at you, he made the ring magically reappear, and you played into the whole thing, gasping as Henry blinked back up at him, clearly confused but still delighted. With Henry erupting into a fit of giggles, Spencer looked between you both, his own smile widening when he saw that you were grinning as much as Henry was. It was impossible not to, seeing him in his element, performing a magic trick for a little boy that he adored, and reminding you just why your stomach filled with butterflies and your heartbeat sped up when you were around him.

The image had still been fresh in your mind as you stood next to Spencer, overlooking Henry holding that same ring out to his mum on a cushion, as his dad put it on her finger, and promised to love her forever until death do them part. You hadn’t been sure which of the two images actually made tears appear in your eyes, or made you shyly glance up at Spencer, who stood inches taller next to you still, even while you wore the most uncomfortably high pair of heels you owned. You’d tried to fight them off, but as always, Spencer was so attuned to you in ways that couldn’t let you hide even if you wanted to. Even in a room full of people, even during a wedding ceremony. 

Hey. You okay? He mouthed when he looked over at you, his expression immediately softening once he took notice of your teary eyes.

I’m alright, lovey. You mouthed back, shaking your head as nonchalantly as possible, before returning your attention to JJ and Will exchanging their vows. 

Still, Spencer’s gaze remained locked on you for a moment longer. When he focused straight ahead, he only did it after his knuckles brushed along the back of your hand. Intentionally yet casually enough, a brief and reserved touch which was still enough to make your breath catch inside your throat. And still, you’d tried your best to ignore the tears, but more so what caused them. 

The realisation that if you ever were to want something akin to forever, if you had imagined yourself finding it, the one person you wanted it with was the one standing next to you.

And that realisation dawning on you was enough to have you drifting towards the buffet as most of the others were either still mid-conversation, dancing, or getting ready to call it a night. You’d promised yourself you’d hail a cab home soon enough, just… Perhaps after you’d indulged in Rossi’s fine champagne collection a little more. Scanning the tables for your any remaining bottles, your nails clinking rhythmically against the tall, empty glass in your hand, you frown when you realise every one of them was empty. Petulantly, you turn around, expecting to spot one of the waiters Rossi’d hired for the night. Instead, you find yourself face to face with the tuxedo-clad man who was the very reason you’d been hoping there was more champagne waiting for you.

“Whoa, whoa—Hey, easy there.” 

“Spencer, thank God! Quick, help me find more champagne, will you? All of the bottles here are empty!” You pat his chest after regaining your balance, desperately trying to ignore the goosebumps creeping up your spine at the feeling of his arm around your waist. 

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea, actually. You’ve already had plenty. Here, maybe we can find you some water—“

“Oh, don’t be a killjoy!” You grumble. “We’re celebrating, I should be able to—Hey, you’ve got some—“ If Spencer was going to stop you from switching your empty glass with his full one (he hadn’t had but one lousy sip of it this past hour), he wasn’t quick enough. “Ugh, see, this? You and your impeccable timing? This is why you’re my hero, doc.“ Spencer sighs as he watches you down most of the champagne, flustered and amused all the same. Luckily, he regains his composure once you’ve emptied your glass, and turn to seek out another one.

“Right, I think that’s enough celebration for you.” He leaves both glasses on the nearest table behind you and gently stops you from reaching out for them again.

When you pout at him, he doesn’t relent, and you let out a tiny groan as you lean against the table. “I’m simply doing Rossi a favour. He wouldn’t want his finest wine collection to go to waste.”

“I’m pretty sure Rossi would agree you’ve more than done your part. His wine collection is not what’s been wasted.”

You roll your eyes, grimacing slightly to avoid appearing entertained by his comment. “Ridiculous,” you tut, looking past his shoulder all coyly, “‘m not wasted.”

Spencer tilts his head and regards you with an amused half-smile. “Right. Would mildly inebriated work better?” You roll your eyes but don’t respond. “No? Well, just tipsy, then.”

You can’t fight the smile your lips finally curve into at that. Not when you make eye contact again and realise he looks as gently amused by you as he sounds. “Fine, I will give you tipsy.” A hint of a late-May evening breeze blows just then. You cross your arms in front of your chest and inwardly curse yourself for not bringing a jacket with you. Spencer notices, and opens his mouth to probably mention your being cold, but you don’t let him. “I’m just being a good sport. I’m celebrating. I’m happy.”

A beat of silence passes where Spencer decides that right now is not the time to probe you with more questions as to what you’re truly thinking about. Not because he doesn’t notice, or even has his own guesses, but because he knows you won’t indulge his efforts. The light banter that defines your relationship — whatever that is — would have to suffice. “I don’t think Rossi’s going to be equally as happy if you end up falling asleep on his couch tonight.”

“Why would I fall asleep on his couch when there are so many guest bedrooms in his mansion?” Spencer chuckles at your attempt to mimic Rossi’s voice and words before a recent briefing at work. “If I were to end up falling asleep here, that is.”

“Which you’re not going to do.” 

“Well… Not unless I have to.”

It seems you both reach that particular point with your back-and-forth where Spencer can’t help but become flustered. Whether it’s what you’re suggesting or what you’re outright asking of him, the result is the same. It’s not like he’d not have offered taking you home, either way. After all, it wasn’t just you who couldn’t deny him anything. 

“Then I guess we better make sure you don’t have to.” He eventually nods, a playful glint still apparent in his eyes, one that’s very similar to the one in yours. He smiles back the moment you preen.

When he tries to fix his fringe from in front of his eyes, you rid both of you of the remaining distance between you and do it for him. From this close, you can see his Adam’s apple bobbing and his breath catching inside his throat, and he can feel the scent of your signature vanilla fragrance and the sweet aftertaste of the champagne you’ve drunk cloud his senses. To his credit, he stops himself from fully leaning into your touch where your lithe fingertips skim his jawline, coiling the stray curl behind his ear. 

“Spencer?” He only blinks when your attention is now on fixing his bowtie. You toy with it for a moment before you leave it as crooked as it was, and hum back at him, “Do you think we could get some ice cream on the way over?”

He doesn’t have to think about it twice, really. Stays by your side as you drown JJ and Will in even warmer well wishes and tries to ignore Derek’s subtle teasing as he waits to do the same. When you’re reluctant to leave Emily’s side where she’s sat between a sleeping Henry and Jack, sensing that she’s holding back on something serious, he only caves when she looks him in the eye as if to say don’t screw this up. 

You’re both still wondering what all that was about when you’re curling up against the worn-out leather of his Volvo’s passenger seat and he’s driving you back to DC. He lets you fiddle with the radio console until you give up on finding something good to listen to and turn to him with your curious questions and harmless gossip the whole drive to the ice-cream shop.

He relents when you loop your arm around his as you exit with your ice cream cup in hand and ask him to walk for a while, even though he knows you’ll barely last in your heels for long. Five minutes later and barely a block away from where he parked, you’re leaning onto him and stifling your pained groans, and he’s holding back on any I-told-you-so’s like he always is with you. Instead, he entertains your trying to name the constellations above you and acting nonchalant as he matches your slowed-down pace back to his car.

Luckily, your place is only a few-minutes drive away.

“You didn’t really have to walk me upstairs.” You leave him to close the door behind him, already leaning against the couch’s armrest, half a spoonful of vanilla ice cream in your mouth as you reach down to unstrap your heels.

“Considering the elevator in your building is out of service and you almost fell flat on your face twice on the way up here, I’d say I really had to.” He chuckles as he munches on his own scoop, choices identical to yours — vanilla and banana split. He knows well enough not to turn on the big light in your living room, settles for the small, antique lamp you’d bought on a thrift shop visit after a case in New Orleans. The warm orange light hits your figure in just the right way as you bend over, tresses delicately falling in front of your eyes, the dark emerald green satin fabric of your dress rising up your calves as you finally free yourself from those unholy shoes (he’ll never understand just why you wear them, even if Derek and Emily had tried to explain it for your sake). 

It’s not inappropriate, the way he looks at you. No, it could never be. After all, he’s mastered the art of defining boundaries well enough in his thirty years alive on this Earth. But it’s also nothing like the way friends are supposed to look at each other. It has been anything but that since he met you and he only realises it more and more with every day he’s known you. 

2047 days and counting. 

And every single one of these days, to Spencer, you’ve always been the closest thing to truly disarming beauty that he has ever known. Everything from the way you trace the outline of your lips with your knuckles, to the deep frown that paints your features when you’re thinking too hard, and the way you always know exactly what to say and when to say it — all of it has made Spencer feel as if he’s only really been alive since the day he met you. He might as well have, for all he knew. It has long felt like what came before you was an indistinguishable blur of events and feelings.

Even though he’s certain he has the words to describe it, he doesn’t think he’s capable of it. There’s adoration and tenderness, a kind of reverent fascination to how he sees you and for what he sees in you, that phrasal combinations  lack the power to translate. 

The only thing Spencer is and has always been certain of is that he wants to know you, all of you. In every way there is to know a person. That’s the truth of it. The truth he tries to fail behind. Successfully or not, he can’t quite say, but God, is he trying.

Like now, when he’s already been too deep in his fondness for the sight of you to realise in time that you’ve mumbled something along the lines of I wasn’t that bad, made it to your kitchen, grabbed a bottle of champagne and two glasses, and were now making your way towards the window to your balcony.

“Wh—Wait—What are you doing?” He almost stumbles over his own feet and chokes on his few leftover ice-cream bites before he makes it by your side. 

You ignore him when he tries to reason with you, already climbing out of the window, and sitting down on one of the small chairs you’d managed to place there when you’d moved to your unit. 

You’re already pouring a glass of champagne for yourself as he huffs your name in that all-familiar high-pitched tone of voice he always takes on when you have a terrible idea or push his buttons all too well. “Oh, come on, doc, don’t be dramatic.” You swing the empty glass back and forth in front of his face, wiggling your eyebrows. “Now, are you going to join me, or am I pouring a second glass for myself?”

And Spencer sighs, because he really can’t say no to you, really doesn’t want to, which means he can only push his lanky frame between the balcony’s window all funny, and feel the metal of the table pinch his side as he tries to sit down opposite you. 

Your poorly suppressed giggles are only met with a narrowing of his eyes and a shaking of his head. You’re impossible. He wipes dust off of his suit jacket and trousers and ignores the half-full glass you’ve pushed in front of him. 

He studies you for a moment, looking across the railing, from the half-empty street below you to the starlit midnight sky above you, back to the bubbling liquid inside your glass. 

Something was off about you, that much was clear now as it had been during the wedding. It wasn’t that you hadn’t been genuinely happy for JJ and Will, hadn’t honestly joined in alongside everyone celebrating. It wasn’t even that your drinking could be classified as excessive, really. He’d seen you drink more than you had tonight during team outings at O’ Koeffe’s — out of happiness, out of misery, out of burn-out. 

But right now, you weren’t any of these things. What clouded your features was not the familiar melancholy he’s known you to succumb to more than a handful of times all these years, it seemed… deeper than that. Similar in a way, but different and deeper than that at the same time.

You’re a universe of your own making and, impossible as it seems, Spencer prides himself in his stubbornness enough to want to unravel you, one law, one piece, one secret at a time. Just as long as you let him.

He moves his chair closer to the centre of the table and goes to bring yours further inside as well. You startle gently, returning to reality from where you’d drifted off inside your head because of the crackly sound. “What—“

“You are afraid of heights.” He interrupts, his tone factual and simple. That one case where you hadn’t gone back to being yourself until an hour later was a painful reminder of that. He’d had to stay behind with you after Derek had seized the unsub, not before he’d dragged you a little too close to the rooftop’s edge, leaving you breathless down on your knees and staring blankly at Spencer as he tried to ease your panic.

“Doesn’t seem to faze me too much right now.”

“Still, I’m not letting you risk it—“ And the way he pulls your chair further away from the railing of the balcony shouldn’t make your stomach flip, swarm with butterflies, but it does, and perhaps you could blame it on the alcohol, but deep down you know it is more than that. You choose to ignore it because haven’t you always done that? Even as the signature sandalwood scent of his cologne fills your senses and makes it harder to keep your eyes open, even as his fingertips skims the bare of your upper back innocently enough and gives you goosebumps. If he chooses to ignore that, so do you. You are, once again, a good sport.

You try to be, at least. As he focuses on perhaps shielding you from crossing the line from tipsy to properly inebriated by going to pull your glass away from you. You stop him before he can do it, holding it away from him. “If you reach for my glass again, I will bite you.”

“Well, that’s a new one.” He laughs. Until you squint seriously, mockingly threatening, and he stops, clearing his throat. “Okay, okay, I won’t.”

You turn to the constellations adorning the night sky then, like you’d done previously during your short-lived walk. “Hey, look!” You point towards an arrangement of stars resembling a cross, clearer from here than they’d been before. “That’s the Cygnus, isn’t it?”

Spencer follows your line of sight and smiles, “That’s the one, yeah.” Your unit was almost at the top floor of your building, meaning the view must have always been breathtaking during clear nights like these. “Seems brighter from up here.” He looks back at you then, his heart skipping a beat at how your eyes seem to sparkle as you connect the stars together, again and again. 

You’d always been fond of them, Spencer knew that well. You’d once spent hours on the phone asking him questions based on the latest copy of The Astronomical Journal that he subscribes to when he’d lent it to you. He’d talked your ear off happily all the way from Las Vegas where he’d been on a visit to his mother, delighted to engage with your questions and your theories.

I’m sorry, I know I get all philosophical about this stuff, but I can’t help it. It’s just the way I am.

Don’t be sorry. You know we’ve both been saved more times than we can count because of your thinking deeply.

He’d said, and you’d laughed, flustered enough for him to notice even from the other end of the line, on the other side of the country. What he’d wanted to say, though, was much more than that — Your mind is fascinating, you know? Please, keep talking, because the world is much more interesting through your eyes. I’d listen to you for hours on end every day of my life if you’d only let me.

Even now, Spencer wants to tell you so many things. He wants to ask you so many things. Still, you beat him to it.

“Swans mate for life, don’t they?”

“It’s not a general rule of nature, but yes, they tend to be strictly monogamous as a species. A significant portion of them doesn’t search for a new partner, even after one of them dies, and there are cases where swans have died while mourning their partners in what does resemble a broken heart syndrome.”

Your expression shifts from entranced to thoughtful to dejected by the time that he’s finished talking. “Ah,” You frown at your still untouched glass. “So much for happy ever afters.”

At your words, Spencer softens. Understands much more than you’re letting him in on. “I mean, it is true that it’s the exception, not the rule with them.”

The smile on your lips is self-effacing as you rest your chin on your palm, mulling over your thoughts and feelings alike. It’s always like Spencer to be so… logical. Precise. Honest, perhaps to an unnerving degree. You adore him for it, although there are times when you wished that he’d bend the truth a little. If only for your sake. 

“And—Well, even if it was the rule,” He starts characteristically, not just because he wants to comfort you, but because he sees and understands you. He has always felt like he does, has always hoped you feel the same way. “There’s no rule in life without exceptions.”

He doesn’t look away as you finally take a sip from your champagne, ponders desperately on whether he’s managed to say the wrong thing, at the wrong time. He’s notorious for doing that, after all. When you do respond, he tries not to flinch.

“Does that really matter if most, if not all, rules and their exceptions involve settling?” You’re still only looking at Spencer from the corner of your eye, because you know that you’re past the point of no return when it comes to opening up to him. It’s always like this. He never pries, never says more than he has to (not where you’re concerned), yet sees right through you. Through every layer, every wall you’ve put up for yourself. He challenges everything you’ve ever known just by seeing you. 

It’s no wonder he doesn’t say anything, his eyes flickering between your own almost apologetic. An unsettling kind of understanding. One that’s a quiet declaration. 

Don’t think that I don’t see you because I do. I always have. 

“It’s not like there’s any certainty to the opposite, is it? Happy endings? You could want it, you could try to find it time and time again, but what if there’s no one on your side? Not God, not fate, not… probability. What if all you’re meant to do is settle for something that you’ve never wanted?” Sighing, you sit back against your chair, and shrug. “I don’t know, I just… Seeing JJ and Will tonight, knowing that they have something so real, that they’ve found it and… and held on to it all this time… It’s… I just don’t like that it’s not the rule. Not for everyone.”

It’s what it all comes down to for you, really. You want to find something to say that has not been said before. You want to be the exception to the rule. To find forever. To cultivate it, if nothing else. You want to love someone, and give yourself to them. You want to watch them leave, and fuck, you want to continue to love them because you can, because you choose to.  You’re loyal like that. You’re sure if everyone’s made for something in this life, you’re made for giving yourself completely to the one. Against all odds, against any outcome. Because finding the one is devastatingly true. And how can anything compare to it? How can you just sit there and accept that you might be the exception to every possible rule, that you might not get to find the one, and that you’ll spend the rest of your life settling in more ways than one. 

You aren’t made for that. You just can’t accept that you’re made for that. If it’s a rule of life, a law of nature, you want no part of it. You’ve never been good at being logical, after all. Emotions were your strong suit. Understanding what everything and everyone’s made of and why they’re made like that. 

“I just don’t like when people have to compromise,” you admit finally. And then, even more softly, “I just don’t want to have to compromise.”

Spencer refrains from turning to words of comfort this time. Returns to what he’s always yearning for — to understand you. “Why do you think that you will have to?”

“Because it’s the whole thing, isn’t it? Everyone has to eventually, in one way or another.” 

You say it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Clearly, though, he’s taken aback by your words. He doesn’t know if it’s the fact that you seem to truly believe them to be true or if he deep down also believes them to be true for himself. He considers what brought this topic, this onslaught of feelings, on in the first place, relies once again in his hopeless optimism. “JJ didn’t have to.”

The exception to the rule.

“No, she didn’t. Because she’s JJ and because Will’s Will. Because they deserved not to have to compromise.” It’s only then you turn to look at him, hoping in that inexplicable attunement that exists between you, and forgives you whenever you’re not making sense for the rest of the world. “But you said it yourself. Every rule has its exceptions. That’s how life works. And I… I certainly don’t understand the logistics of it all, but you… you understand everything. It’s your whole thing.”

And Spencer’s eyes sparkle and widen slightly, because he doesn’t understand everything, and he certainly doesn’t understand you. Not you. Not completely. If he did, he’d know what’s made you believe there are no exceptions to every one of life’s rules. If he did, he’d perhaps be able to accept why you’ve made peace with torturing yourself over not deserving to be an exception. If he did, he’d know how to help you understand in return that you’d always been one. To him, you’ll always be one. In all honesty, you’d always been the only exception to every rule in his life. He’d like to think that could mean something to you because he knows that your understanding him means everything to him. More than he could say.

You’re staring up at the Cygnus constellation when Spencer reminds himself that you’re a universe of your own making. You’re made of laws and phenomena that are in few ways clearer to him now than they were when you first met. Spencer knows that all people are exceptional — exceptions — in their own way but he also understands that you can’t be compared to just anyone or everyone. The universal is personal in this life. Well, it’s the truth until it isn’t. It’s enough until it isn’t. And how can he understand you in a way that is enough? He wants to. God, how he wants to. Maybe then you’d be right, maybe then he’d understand everything. 

Until then, though, the only truth he knows and understands would have to suffice. 

“You won’t have to.”

You blink down at him, not expecting that in the slightest. Instinctively, you’re ready to bite, you always are. But there’s something about Spencer turning the tables on you that makes you uncharacteristically vulnerable. Something that makes your only response come in the form of a whispery, “How do you know?”

He’s not even the tiniest bit hesitant when he whispers back, “I just do.”

You’re rendered speechless in a way that burns you up from the inside out, leaves you oblivious to the shiver that a sudden breeze causes you, and to the goosebumps lining your sensitive skin. 

You’re not oblivious to the way that Spencer shrugs his tuxedo jacket from his shoulders, though, and is quick to drape it over yours, his calloused fingertips fixing the strap of your dress from where it’d fallen down your arm. 

For a moment, he stills, and it’s all because in trying to secure the fabric over your body, your hand comes to rest on top of his. He doesn’t move. You don’t move. 

You look at him and see the universe. He looks at you and feels the same. 

It’s the closest you’ve both come to understanding everything that there is to understand in this life.

“Thank you, lovey.” 

His ears take on the same tint of soft pink colour they do every time you’ve called him that. Still, he’s categorised all of them in his mind well enough to know that you’ve never uttered it the way you just have, that it’s never overflowed with as many emotions as it does now.

When you both pull away, reluctantly, Spencer has to take a sip from the glass you’d so kindly poured him when you settled on your balcony. Funnily enough, the starry liquid is exactly what his heart needs to go back to beating normally again. 

It’s short-lived, though, because you call out his name quietly, and he’s back to looking at you and hoping that it’s not painfully transparent you have his heart in your hands.

“Spencer?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t think you’ll have to, either.”

He doesn’t know what to say, although he’s glad to see the curves of your lips tilting upwards as you curl further into his jacket. As long as you’re back to being you, he thinks that silence might be the greatest gift he could ever be given. Especially the kind that stems from endless understanding, from seeing each other.

You only climb back inside your apartment once the bottle of champagne has been emptied (it only took two separate pours in either one of your glasses), only it’s Spencer who gets in first, and it’s his hand you’re squeezing as you follow his lead.

You’re still clinging onto his jacket when he shuts the window behind him and rises to his usual height. “It’s late, isn’t it?”

Spencer checks his watch, although he doesn’t have to. He knows it’s late, recognises the out you’re giving him for what it is. “Almost half-past midnight.” 12:27, if he chose to be pedantic as per usual. He decides not to.

You stay put where you stand by the window, half-nodding as he wipes his palms on his suit trousers, and doesn’t make an effort to take his jacket back or walk away from you.

“Uh—I—“ This is where you’re thinking over your options, cursing yourself for not being bold enough to tell him you really want him to stay tonight. Because you don’t want to be alone, because he doesn’t have to leave, because he’s everything. But the weather is perfect and there’s practically no traffic at such an hour. The half-empty glasses sitting atop of your tiny balcony table almost wink at you just then, have you looking up at him again. “It’s not a good idea to drive after you’ve drunk, right?”

In the almost complete darkness of your living room’s corner, you’re glad you can somehow and rather poorly hide from him. 

You notice his bowtie looks extra crooked right then. You reach out to fix it and hope he won’t feel how much you are burning, even as your fingers brush against the curls on the nape of his neck. 

If he does, he doesn’t mention it. He’s pretty sure he’s warming up just because of your proximity and the sight of you in his jacket as you touch him, anyway. “Oh, no. It’s, uh… Strongly advised against. Whatever the alcohol intake.”

You don’t pull away, even if you’ve finished fixing his bowtie to its usual perfect crookedness, and you are sure his eyes have never looked prettier than they do right now, aglow by the moonlight bathing you both where you stand by the window.

“You can… Well, you can stay the night.” It’s certainly a proposal. It definitely sounds like one. At least to you, it does. You’d know about it, surely. You’d tiptoed the tightrope that was your friendship with him, navigated through the blurred lines that had your heart skipping several beats as it clung to the presence of the equally hopeless and hopeful what-ifs, long enough to have mastered the way you phrase things. Always open, never imposing. Often suggestive, circumstantially bold. Constantly present to remind him that you’d always try to resemble comfort and truth for him. And although the haziness brought upon you by the excessive amount of champagne you’d drunk tonight was adamant in trying to cloud your judgement, still, by the colour creeping on Spencer’s features, you think that’s how he takes it, too. Thankfully.

Breathe, blink. Still here, still a gorgeous, looming (sans jacket) tuxedo-clad beauty with doe hazel eyes and a smile that was more so a pure-intentioned invitation than anything else in front of you. 

You wish you knew what he thought. You wish you could wrap your arms around him and press your face against his chest and have no reason to pull away in case you blur the lines so devastatingly that there is no turning back from. You wish that he’d want you to do that, not just settle for it, but want that. Want you like you want him.

Little do you know that he does, that he always has and always will, that he’d be yours if only you’d just ask him. If only he could find the courage to just ask you. It’s all that he thinks of. Well, perhaps that’s a hyperbole, but it is always constant, always vastly looming over each other overpowering thought — statistics of potential serial killers at large in the tristate area, the Riemann’s Hypothesis solution draft that he’d been working on all day yesterday, the quotes of Brontë’s poetry he’d meant to ask you your opinion on, whether JJ and Will will like his present. 

All of it was always overshadowed by the thought of you — the thought of wanting you.

I could stay forever, Spencer thinks. Fleeting enough, he could blame it on the champagne, although his intake was barely enough to constitute him light-headed. He could blame it on how enticing your voice is now that it has dropped more than an octave and taken on that soft, whispery tone. That would be more fitting a reason — except the choice to stay had been the only option for him before, when your cadence was as usually vibrant as ever. Then again, it had also been the only option for him when he’d seen you mad — furious, even — with the world, with yourself, with Hotch for not trusting you enough during the latest interrogation. He could blame it on the constellations lining up the sky and how the dark midnight blue of it brought out that indescribable desire (or need would be a more astute description, since he had no control over it) to be vulnerable with you. To open up to you, to keep opening up to you, to the point where he can barely think of what more there is to say. That’s when you’d roll your eyes in that characteristic way of yours, that ever-so-curious glint appearing in your eyes, as you tell him that there will always be more to say, more to know, more to understand. About the world, about each other, about what matters. And he’d agree, not only because you’re right, but because he doesn’t think he could ever have enough of getting to know you, to understand you.

Maybe it was the wedding which made him lean towards the option of blaming it on all this talk about happy endings. About rules and the exceptions to them, about finding the one, about wishing for forever. Probability, fate, divine intervention, choice — just what exactly, he couldn’t possibly make his mind upon, isn’t sure he understands what there is to understand about it, except for the fact that he wanted it just as much as you seemed to. Both of you did. Craved it. Hoped for it. Seeing JJ and Will celebrate their love just made it clearer to you both, opening your heart to each other like you had tonight solidified it. So yes, that’s what he blames it on. That’s how he explains just why exactly you have taken on the living embodiment of what he’s always dreamed of yet never had the courage to ask for.

He steals a small glance to his left, to the empty bottle of champagne and the glasses sitting upon your balcony table. Then, he looks towards the end of the hallway, towards the door to your office space he’d help you set up a few years back, where he knows you keep an extra wardrobe. 

You still don’t move as he pads through your apartment, like he’s done time and time again, knowing every corner of it like the back of his hand.

“Are your spare pillows and blanket still in the second drawer to the left?” He asks over his shoulder once he is behind the half-ajar door and over the sound of the wooden drawers cracking open slightly, not really waiting for an answer.

Because he already knows what it is.

[marimayscarlett]

We're all so quick to reblog these posts about keeping fandom spaces alive, but look at the Rammstein fandom, look at it! 😭 It's getting quiet and nobody wants to admit it. 😓 Everyone is just quietly lurking or waiting for someone else to do something and it's heartbreaking!Same cycle, different fandom. 😣 We say we care, but we don't engage, we don't reblog, we don't hype each other up anymore! Some just resort to like posts as if they were on instagram! No reblogs! Some blogs that used to be so active just vanished! Where are they? 😭 We need to actually show up if we don't want this space to disappear like so many others! Thank god at least you and some other blogs still post content! 😭 I'm not aa creator, but I try to reblog everything with commentary, but it's getting increasingly frustrating because I'm screaming into the void😭😭😭

Hi 👋🏻

I guess this is in regards to this post.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts on this. I suppose it depends on how you look at the matter. Allow me to describe my impression:

I entered this fandom on here in 2015 and spent some time here. It was admittedly very lively, very open — lots of people reblogged things with their thoughts added in the caption (which admittedly isn’t as common anymore, at least from what I’ve noticed). There was a lot of joy and excitement when Rammstein in Amerika and Rammstein in Paris came to theatres.

And after I came back to Tumblr, I witnessed the same excitement for the tours in the last two years! Which isn’t surprising, considering the tons of new concert material we got in the form of official reels and pictures, as well as the vast amount of fan videos (which was absolutely not a given during the festival tours, mind you).

I’m not sure I share the view of the Rammstein fandom as stated in that ask, but I do understand the feeling of looking back wistfully and yearning for more excitement, joy, and togetherness. Surely, the activity on here isn’t as high as during the tours, but I think that’s only natural.

Let’s not forget that there are various reasons for reduced activity:

– No new material: no tour or other events this year, so there’s not much new apart from a few selfies of the band members. Reblogging and posting older content is always nice and plays into the bittersweet emotion of nostalgia, but even I can’t spend my whole day on it.

– Real life happens! Plus there are different focus points in life. The members of this fandom don’t only exist on this little platform. They have family, work, responsibilities, friends, worries, and things to deal with, as well as offline hobbies and other fandoms they’re part of — which is a good thing! There’s a risk of becoming too absorbed in one thing when there’s no variety. I can only speak for myself, but I also find joy outside of Rammstein in other areas of interest. Which is nice, life’s too short to miss out on all the fascinating topics this world has to offer.

– Other fan spaces: Instagram seems to have a considerably large Rammstein fandom, and there’s a fairly active (I think) Discord server for this fandom here as well. Some people just need a change of pace when it comes to platforms sometimes.

And yet — we’re still here. We have wonderful and incredibly skilled artists who spoil us with beautiful Rammstein art. We have very talented and creative fanfic authors among us who bring the band to life in various scenarios. We have diligent gif-makers who pick out funny and striking moments for us to stare at endlessly.

As someone without an ounce (!) of creativity in my body, I deeply appreciate all of them, as well as every single person in this fandom. Every like, reblog, and written thought — whether it’s opinions or thirst — contributes to keeping this fandom alive. 🤍

It’s always good to encourage more engagement — I totally get you! But I don’t think this fandom is in any danger of dying out anytime soon. At least from the blogs I interact with and based on my dash, there's quite a lot of activity happening. Maybe not as much as there used to; yet perhaps it will be more if we get new content ✨

[frankenfran]

PLEASE talk as much as you want about final fantasy. Since I already have 3 FF questions, I'll let you choose whatever you want to talk about most

1. I wanna hear what you don't like about XV and XVI (I only know the story of XVI and yeah it has. issues)

2. What do you think about the older 2D FFs?

3. I know there's an insane amount of spinoffs and side stories, so of them all, what do you think is a must-play for someone like me who wants to get more into the series? (I've only played most of tactics, and FF I Advance of all things)

oh goodness well, this probably won't be popular but since you asked... (under a read more because it's fucking long)

1.) as reductively as possible: too much of a focus on men. deeply misogynistic games. it feels like they're a response to the misogynistic backlash to ffxiii. yes ffxiii had plenty of problems but given the culture at the time (which obviously hasn't gotten much better) it kinda felt like a lot of people rejected it as soon as they saw a woman as the protag. the craziest part is she's basically just cloud post transition but mysteriously people think all those traits on a woman are irritating or cringe.

anyway, this is obviously just my own personal feeling but it feels like they went the opposite direction and decided there should be less women going forward. ffxiv is infamous for killing every important female character and ffxv is just a yaoi road trip with minimal female involvement. you'd certainly think there were no women in the game based on the fan art and, unsurprisingly, people loved that. i mean consider the reaction to ffx-2 vs. ffxv. they're both obviously very different games in a lot of ways but one of them is about boys going on an adventure together and the other is about girls doing the same. one of them is considered embarrassing and got tons of backlash from fans contemporarily for being too girly and the other was a huge hit with fans and loved even with its flaws. it's worth noting ffxv was also originally a ffxiii spinoff that became it's own thing so. that's also information.

ffxvi is even more egregious in some ways but ill admit a lot of those are mostly personal. it's fucking ugly and dull and i would not know it's a final fantasy game if it weren't for the ill fitting chocobos in some trailers. i know it's ironic for me to say that considering i praised ffix for looking unlike any other ff game but they went in the wrong direction. it's clearly inspired by prestige western fantasy slop like GoT and the witcher and unfortunately those are the exact things i do not want in fantasy. some people like that and that's fine but it's clearly not for me.

anyway, iirc the writers from ffxiv worked on this and from what ive seen it shows in the worst ways. these are the writers who couldn't introduce a woman without killing her off so already off to a bad start but. it's punching above its weight class. it's trying so hard to be a epic grizzly dark fantasy but it just falls so flat. they say fuck all the time in the same way that one dmc game everyone hated did. im sure there's some amount of nuance that gets lost in translation but the only woman in the amount of the game i saw was, quite literally, an evil screeching harpy manipulator. which is not like, something im against obviously as a lover of women but for that to be the only woman in the first like. 10+ hours of the game? come the fuck on. maybe it gets better i honestly don't know. and i don't think i ever will because what i saw of that game was so immensely disappointing that im not sure ill ever bother.

i have plenty more i could say about both games but ive said soooo much already and honestly i can't imagine the misogyny website would particularly enjoy even more of my "misandry" lmfao. in short:

2.) i really enjoy the older 2D final fantasies but ive only really played a chunk of ffvi and the original ff. some day ill definitely give them a go! i feel like the ff fan equivalent of a zoomer for loving almost everything from ffvi onwards and not having much to say about the older ones but. the biggest barrier for me is the same one i have with the older dragon quests. they're not particularly hard or anything but they expect you to grind. a whole lot. if i was a kid and my only game was ffiii id be on that grind but it's a bit harder as an adult who can like. just do anything else. i even like grinding and getting into that flow state but i haven't been as much in the mood for it these days, or if i have it's been for different games. ill definitely get around to them eventually though. young immortal mindset as ive said before. watching my gf try and play through them did sort of make me want to give it a spin even with her furping.

3.) honestly you're already off to a good start! tactics is well beloved for a reason and it's probably the most recommended spinoff. id also highly recommend tactics advance. it's not as like, dark and serious as tactics but the style and gameplay and story are all executed nearly flawlessly. it's a favourite of our beloved princess nettlebloom and that's reason enough! definitely finish tactics first though. hmm... if you play ffxii and also enjoyed tactics advance then give FFXII: revenant wings a try! it's a weird RTS type game but it's in the style of tactics advance and very cute. definitely not for everyone though.

it's really far from essential but if you can somehow manage to organise enough people for it i highly recommend giving crystal chronicles a try. it's really fun with other people and it's close to ffix stylistically so im a big fan. maybe try dissidia if you want a silly fighting game? kebs seemed to enjoy stranger of paradise quite a bit and it seems like mindless action game fun so maybe give that a look if it interests you. honestly the spin-offs cover such a wide range of genre and quality that it's almost hard to have cohesive opinions on them lol. but i hope that helps in any way!

thank you for asking though and sorry for the wall of text! i genuinely suck at being concise and getting my points across but hopefully you could decode some of this madness lol

[sixsamefacez]

TODOMATSU ANALYSIS #1

This is gonna be Riddled with typos cause i made this all in a frenzy, but here goes anyways.

todomatsu is sorely underappreciated but I really love that little guy. So here's a long analysis post about him!

I wish the fandom saw him as more than arm candy, more than just a guy to ship atsushi with too…. and it's like. I rarely ever see any content that isn't just ship art for him and it honestly makes me pretty sad. He's such a fascinating character that gets a bad rap because nobody can understand that he ACTS cold and distant, not that he ACTUALLY IS when you actually stop and take a look at him

I'm especially tired of people insisting that todomatsu wouldn't care if any of his brothers died or if they got hurt or whatever because the truth is he's very attached to them even if he finds them incredibly embarrassing. He would do anything for his brothers although he would never really own up to it and it's clear that having formerly relied on his brothers so often he just wants to be known as less of a crybaby/less dependent since that's something he caught a lot of shit for

He's still an asshole but so are all the other brothers. They're all assholes in their own ways . But it is undeniable that he still deeply cares about his family whether he admits it aloud or not, and even before the movie revealed the information that he used to be a very clingy little crybaby it was made pretty clear that he just masked a lot of his care and concern for his bros. Masking it doesn't mean that it's not there.

The show jokes that he is Literally heartless, but… I really I think he's just overcompensating for how sensitive he really is / especially used to be.

We know he used to rely on them far too much in Highschool, ever clingy and very scared without them. Choromatsu seemed to be the closest one to him; always taking responsibility and helping him through his anxiety and emotions, but he was still very caring of his other brothers. He really enjoyed spending time with them, and cried if they got into fights or were mean; he was the baby brother they always made sure to protect, both because he was the smallest, but also the most emotionally volatile.

Totty had always been last in everything; often feeling isolated and a bit disconnected from his brothers as a result. He WAS pretty sweet, although very clingy, and a total crybaby, and could do very little without his brother’s help until he was mercilessly bullied out of that in highschool.

As an adult, he now insists on proving he’s not like his brothers. While he is a NEET just like them, he’s the most sociable of the bunch; constantly trying to flirt with girls that he  barely  feels attachments to, trying to keep up with the latest trends, and even getting short term secret jobs now and then to fund the things that he’d like to get for himself. To overcompensate for how much he used to rely on his brothers, he’s now taking charge in trying to be the first to do many things out of his brothers; he’s the first to get a job, first to get a phone, first to start  trying out new fashion, first to try and get a girlfriend ( although most of the time, it feels empty and meaningless. he holds no real lust for the girls he tends to flirt with ) … you get the idea.

He also has adapted a rather indifferent, stone cold persona about his brothers; most of the time, he effortlessly roasts them, insults them, and generally pretends not to exist around him. When people call him just as terrible as his brothers, he absolutely REFUSES to let that slide; the reason why he tries to be first in everything other than what was previously stated was easily because he doesn’t want to be known as a bad person. He does everything in his power to act heartless and uncaring, and to make himself out like an overly cutesy lovable single child.

The fact of the matter is, though, that he’s not.

He’s a liar, which his brothers hates; but just as he’s a liar, he really DOES care about his brothers. Even if he tries to pretend like he doesn’t, even  if he tries to avoid being seen with them anywhere, and even if he can get embarrassed about his relation to them, he DOES care very much for them all. He loves to go along with their schemes sometimes, playing along more than you’d probably expect a guy like him to.  However, he’s also very secretive, and his brothers know little about him nowadays – and that’s the way he wants to keep it.

He’s tired of being so babied, of being treated like he’s a fragile incapable baby. He’s an ADULT now, goddammit, and he can do whatever he want!! He keeps many secrets from his brothers and does actually kind of have a life outside of being a NEET ( which is something that can’t be said for all the other brothers ); like the fact that he climbed Mt. Fuji alone at age 21, or that he went to a Go club, or got a membership at a gym…

Despite how hard Todomatsu tries to stand out, and to be a better person, it’s all very surface level. He’s really just as much of a loser as his brothers! He thinks he’s cuter than he actually is, and acts as though he’s above all of his brothers - but the truth is that honestly? He’s not better than them. He’s still at their level.

The only thing he IS … is more sociable.  It’s painfully clear how hard  he tries to stand out over the rest, and it ends up backfiring because when he tries to be trendy or stand out, he just sticks out like a sore thumb. Not that he notices, or listens when his brothers tell him as much.

I think it's also interesting and fascinating how he actually has a pretty big doombrain issue. He always expects the worst to happen and I think that's residual from his deeeep anxiety as a teenager

Like for example . The ESP kitty incident, he openly says that he worried that jyushimatsu walked right into traffic when he went missing ( bc jyushi was looking for that orange kitty ) but I've seen some people think that meant todomatsu WANTED jyushi to walk into traffic

But I'm convinced that those people are media illiterate and didn't pay attention to the scene at all because he explicitly says that he was WORRIED that he did. And that he was RELIEVED AND GLAD when he was okay!!

I find it more accurate to say to the people who insist he wouldn't care if his brothers died. He WOULD care if tht happened. He would just act like he didn't and cover it up. I mean, he genuinely does that kind of shit ALL the time. ESPECIALLY WHEN IT COMES TO HIS ANXIETY. He never shook that anxiety from when he was a teen off, which is blatantly obvious!

Referring back to ESP kitty incident again since I gave a little context on that specifically;

He did Not at ALL tell anybody that he was worried about jyushi walking into traffic until he showed back up relatively okay, if a bit trashed up and nasty. he then laughed off his thoughts and casually admitted what he thought happened, but it was delivered so light-hearted ( in a way in which was like. Kind of accepting that he was overthinking things? You know how you can get anxious abt things but then you just kind of laugh it off in retrospect?? He did that ) got a lot of people mistook it for him just simply not caring

And. he was also like. dead silent during the final bit of that ep. and just kind of kept that one awkward stare of his that he does when he's uncomfortable and he didn't really speak any lines until his brother showed back up safe. THEN he'd started talking again.

Its certainly not the only time he's done this kind of thing (see: coffee shop ep where he went a little nonverbal when he got stressed about his brothers showing up and his thoughts went a MILE A MINUTE spouting off anxieties before he could speak again ). So it seems like that's a recurring thing for him, I suppose

TLDR totty isn't heartless he's just an asshole who hides his true feelings until he Can't. Yes he's self absorbed now, but he clearly is still anxiety ridden and does care for / like his brothers despite being the one to bitch about them the most. AMEN!!!!!

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

These are the BSD ocs I drew a while back in these posts here, here, and here. I'm finally going to introduce them - they are both named for famous haiku poets (two of the 4 Ts!).

Takajo Mitsuhashi

Ability: Fern Hell/Shida Jigoku - A passive ability with an active component. Passively, she has a connection to what may or may not be a kind of life force - she can sense the presence of every individual, making her near impossible to sneak up on. Throttling the connection between person and life force either denotes a strange effect on their ability, or can shut down their life functions and kill them.

Age: 17

Birth Date: January 24th

Height: 162 cm

Weight: 116 lb

Blood Type: AB

Likes: Abstract art, meditation, cicadas

Dislikes: Restrictions, too much noise

Additional notes: Unused to feeling strong emotions, but is far from expressionless in intonation - she tends to be polite yet laid back and mildly cocky, especially when poking holes at authority/She was formerly an assassin/She also has the capacity to barely feel any pain and keep moving, even from deep injuries. This is not an ability. It's implied she trained to be able to do this./Becomes fascinated by Yosano and regularly observes her and her choices/Cannot understand why Takako doesn't think she's cool and then feels frustrated that this upsets her.

Takako Hashimoto

Ability: The Red Thread/Beniito - Allows the creation of a thin red thread, which, when connected with an object or person, acts as a rope to allow her to pull objects closer or drag them. Connections to people sometimes involve her gaining flashes of their emotional state and core desires.

Age: 16

Birth Date: January 15th

Height: 166 cm

Weight: 130 lb

Blood Type: B

Likes: Snow, yubari melon, dancing

Dislikes: Loneliness, feeling left behind

Additional notes: Born to comfortable wealth but has since given that up for unknown reasons/Sociable and empathetic but rarely talks about herself/Has an unfortunate tendency to throw herself into danger without thinking it through, much to Takajo's frustration/Tends to fangirl over people she thinks are cool, like Agent Hisajo/Thinks Takajo is one of the coolest people she's met but pretends she doesn't think so out of embarrassment of admitting that. This leads to childish spats.

They are part of a story involving Takajo attempting to find a powerful ability user-made artifact. Takako is the only one who can locate it, and therefore, they strike a deal to work together. They conflict with an offshoot of the Special Division, which essentially blackmails the girls into helping them find it and store it securely - but both girls are in agreement that the artifact needs to be destroyed (the one thing they do reliably agree on).

Though at first they are only working together out of a shared goal, they eventually come to care about one another deeply.

...ok. Running off now byeee

[ethernetmeep]

pertaining to my discussion about how being nothing is the worst thing someone can be, i have decided if i can at all decipher & share memories of others either still in my life, gone, or in an odd middle ground, i would like to try. this feels a bit foreign to me, i will admit. all stories will be shared (as in i was in the story) & not something like “[person A] went through this” because that feels cruel & nauseates me. mutuals will not exactly be written down, although i do make note of interactions & appreciate them all— i am just more bashful about posting about something like that. here we go, heres my attempt:

A — person i haven’t talked to in a long time. it’s hard, because our memories are faded with both time & wanting to forget, but there are various times which seem kind in retrospect, even if a little forced. sometimes they would create beats while on a discord call, & various times when nobody else was there or not paying attention i would ask them about what they were making. they streamed it, so i could see the little blocks & samples they would use. i don’t want to talk to them again, i won’t lie to you, but i hope they are okay. they have a younger brother i would also sometimes talk to. i wonder how their dog goda is doing… we had fun talking in a group. liked neco-arc & osaka.

K [1] — obviously, initials overlap. this instance is a person who was partners with another person i knew, one who was incredibly rude to someone i am friends with… ahem. i am trying to not ‘taint’ views, or make any seem worse than another. my apologies; i am simply so used to sharing everything. regardless, they are one of the many in an old group i used to talk to circa 2021-2022. they played fortnite & had a very pink room & i was jealous of their wealth. cousins of A [2]. a nice memory (albeit harsh) is from when they sent me a voicemail because i was not picking up the phone. it was a ‘rude = funny’ & absurdity filled time period. i still have the voicemail, circa 9/10/21. i will transcribe it for you,

“CYBER, ANSWER THE GODDAMN PHONE. IF YOU DON’T ANSWER IN FIVE MINUTES, YOUR HOUSE WILL GO ON FIRE. ANSWER THE FUCKING PHONE. [barking noises ensue.]”

S — …complicated. i thought she was cool when we were friends; she was a girl i could never be comfortable being, because i didn’t want to be a girl, but she was like a sister. almost. i am an only child & we have similarities. she looks more like my mother than i do. she had a younger brother, too. we would play roblox & in particular this pop it game where you trade pop its. stupid, sure, but i remember it. we had a few sexual jokes im not comfortable with anymore, but so is life. i’ve said before i do not have a very comfortable relationship with anything sexual. one time for halloween she dressed up as the joker; that year i dressed as jack torrance from the shining. we talked often, sometimes in groups, sometimes alone. she became a buddhist & never apologized to A [2] effectively. she would also often keep harping on jokes i would not understand & nobody would fill me in on them as it was funny to see my suffering. the one time i do ‘oh fuck the turley got free’* too much im flamed, but vauging is fine… whatever. i’m not going to put braincells into something four/three years old

A [2] — still friends with them! a nice person. we’ve had our ups & downs, but thats life, too! they helped me put on my first chest binder. not physically, they live several states away, but coached me through it. that is a core memory of mine. i will always appreciate them deeply. we are both very busy now, but when i can i try to talk with them. they post their art sometimes & make edits & i like them all. they & their old partner M also used to watch me play elden ring one day. i once watched them play danganronpa v3, another time fear & hunger. we made many jokes. it was a lot of “watching one person game”. it was nice. we also watched society together via discord. one thing they always liked about me was the fact i included M, which felt like common decency, but apparently other friends S & K [1] didn’t do.

M [1] — good segway. M was nonverbal, so i would talk with them via audio & they would answer via text. it was comfortable, & although sometimes rough if i was playing a game or something, i was always happy to pause & read. if i couldn’t, i’d say that. they liked skyrim a lot & we would often play fortnite together as cyber, M, & A [2]. i still have photos of us playing, actually. i cherish them.

M [2] — friend since.. fourth grade. fifth. around that median range. some memories good, some bad. i laid in their old houses closet & although it was a bit for attention it was also a nice experience to lay on the floor alone without anyone bothering me. i’m trying to not mention the bad memories. we went to each others birthday parties various times… he went to mine last year at an arcade. we sometimes play splatoon 3 together. not the most philosophical fellow, but we connect where we can. i feel bad for not talking as often, but we’re different people.. still, i’ll try to connect.

E/I — names used interchangeably. OK. they found me in M [2]’s closet and i remember them looking down at me physically since, yknow, i was on the floor. we kind of don’t really talk. she hates humanity a bit like i do. core memory is also probably her going to my birthday party last year when i was pretty suicidal. she & M [2] had fun!

C — nice friend, got me several things for my birthday. sometimes i am short with her, but it is my own fault. she helped comfort me a lot last year & is very smart. does theater. first production i went to in a long time was for her, something the little mermaid. i used to be in theater, but once i fumbled on stage as a background character in middle school & had a whole missing person event go on i didn’t want to do much of it anymore. since my partner is graduating, i may do sound. anyway, i went to see her & she was thrilled. i like seeing her happy because she deserves it + her birthday party was very fun & i met her dog named lucky.

M [3] — newer friend, makes videos. at C’s birthday party & apart of a honor society i am in (?). philosophical. like talking to her, we have fun. doing a project based on plant growth in different wavelengths. i am excited to see her presentation. we have not spent much time together but there is an upcoming picnic & we will probably talk. mostly text. she also records videos which are edited pretty nicely. made one about her home country jamaica & its scenery. she is nice. worked on a mural together

M [4] — talk to her even less. she likes to wear pink & green, loves the souls games & final fantasy series. she likes to paint her nails, has curly hair. she also likes rabbits & bunnies, so i try to send her photos of some in our care at work. helped me a bit last year

V — don’t talk to her much, either. partner of M [3]. worked on mural together, comforted me last year. i like her clothing style & we do not spend much time together but i wish the best for her. her hair leans towards reddish purple & tends to be in a ponytail

B — my partner! huzzah! woo! huzzah! i’m feelin it! yippee! talk about them a lot sometimes, but i’ll reiterate— he’s vegetarian, loves animals, & is a very fascinating artist. he has curly hair & glasses & a lip piercing & septum piercing & eyebrow piercing. i think descriptors are OK. fun memories include our first & second date although the second date was a bit scuffed. i like to talk to him about complex subjects. he still had a crush on me when i talked about infinite jest. thats a hard feat. should text him, actually.. anyway i love him very much. i have many memories of him. one time we went to a wildlife center together. lovely time. he also tolerates watching jerma with me. we do not do much together besides hang out like old people & i think thats a good thing. love doesn’t need to be extravagant , it can be simple

B [2] — aw man, i miss this guy. haven’t heard from him in so long. seriously helped me a lot last year + went to my birthday party. we spent some time together in september. we used to sit & eat lunch when schedules didn’t overlap & it was a really nice experience to sit with people & talk. have a few photos of him & P, along with most of my friends regardless. wonder how he’s doing.. he may just be too busy for me, now. which is fine. i will always remember him for go go gadget & columbo & garfield & mario & everything good in the world . & his tunes. he makes awesome tunes

P — we still talk! sporadic, but both of us have a lot going on. loves pokemon… P for pokemon.. i really treasure the time i went over to her house & we played video games together. one time during a miku song as the beat dropped (?) & or reached pivotal point we were talking about hackers of club penguin servers & i said something along the lines of “the club penguin hackers breaking the servers” because the song had a ton of tabs being typed in/hacked. one time that was funny. also played bloodborne for the first time. she gave me a purple puppy keychain as a memory. i have it in my trinket box always. i also made her a happy birthday drawing. maybe during the summer we will hang out. also went to a german club event & she did the splits, albeit not on purpose. she made the event fun + B [2].

K [2] — N/A amount of time as friends. loves anime, worked on a mural together. loves cats. tends to be busy during the summer. sometimes we would sit & eat lunch together with W. silly. we also hung out at prom together! lovely outfit. very silly. birthday party was jarring but nice. for a late birthday present, they got me these tiny little minecraft figures & a card… i also have one of their artworks behind my bed at all times. its seriously so beautiful. i am lucky to have it…


W — speaking of birthday party, used her money to help me get the alien i wanted. deeply regret in retrospect, but i digress. a bit mean, but affectionately. great at chess. would play against her often. kind of like how one animal can have a mutualism relation with one animal & parasitism with another. much to think about. i should text her & see how she’s doing

K [3] — not going to spend too much time on him, as that would not be wanted/hated (?) & want to respect that. memory i will talk about is the time i did not know buddy holly died via airplane crash & got asked the question if i would rather have a song be written about me by weezer or die in plane crash. i was confused about how they were correlated. i learned many things. said id rather have a weezer song written about me. thumbs up wish the best

I [2] — not really a friend because her boyfriend makes me actively suffer (in comparison to others on this list, not as much) but she takes care of asbestos & radium & i respect her for that. i love discussing animals with her. i hope she does not change for her boyfriend & can be her authentic self

T — in my philosophy class. dealing with a dilemma i know all too well, & have the memory of us discussing this over lunch. we discussed jumping (joke) the person who was spreading rumors about him. tend to sit with him when he needs to talk with B, & he doesn’t mind my presence. besides that, other memories include him being a silly but very sweet guy. always has very good outfits. favorite hairstyle of his is his afro puffs, he looks so joyous… i send him silly videos from time to time. gracefully took my ghostface shirt which haunted me from the movies.

L — also from philosophy class, loves horror. i don’t speak with him much… i should, i just don’t with some people. has an extraneous collection. considering giving him my reanimator book + shirt because holy shit i cannot stand having those anymore. like the ghostface shirt, i am haunted whenever i see them

D — in my sculpture class, likes pokemon. doesn’t listen to music, doesn’t read, doesn’t watch tv or film… hes interesting. not an enigma, just interesting. likes watching youtube videos. i admire his creativity & hope his tech endeavors in college go well

N — brother of a girl i have known from religious education classes. stereotypical nerd. loves warhammer 40k, d&d… most boisterous of the philosophy class we had. sat behind me. carries around his signature lunch box & reads things like MKultra for fun & researches possible pyramid schemes.

K [4] — sister to N, as said above known her from religious education. glasses, purple jacket, ponytail… some chronic pain issues she is fine with talking about to others. loud & can sometimes have fits of tics which will make me want to follow by obsessive thought if i don’t something bad will happen & because my logic part of my mind wants to continue a cycle.

—

there’s… many more… but i have spent so long writing just these few people already. however, no matter who i have or haven’t written down, i will remember them & hold their memories tightly. even if i don’t want to, like, at all, it happens anyway. at least the memories do not die & their ideas do not die, even if physical bodies will

*basically, this artwork i loved & i loved saying “FUCK THE TURLEY GOT FREE” because it looks like a turkey.

[airshipvalentine]

hi guys. it’s me, your favorite guy who you love or tolerate. i can’t sleep again. time to fremont county post

should they be at the club/club equivalent, fcmh edition

mila: girl lived in a sorority house for most of her first semester. she has BEEN at the club(/house parties). now this may be controversial but i think mila has the potential to thrive at the club. i think drunk people are at least 70% more willing to listen to her conspiracy tirades. i think she’s mastered the art of weaseling out the weird stories that the football players would be too embarrassed to admit sober. she is a CHEERLEADER i think she’s busting it down sexual style on the dance floor!!! quirked up wasian girl with a little bit of swag!! yes she should be at the club

levi: ok i think levi’s whole vibe and image is Bitch Who Is At The Club. he is Already at the club. but the question is… should he be? is it fulfilling and fun for him or does he just do it because that’s what’s expected of his social role? these are questions that maybe even levi himself cannot answer.

i can, though. do NOT let this man in the club. if nothing else than for the good of the rest of the clubgoers. this bitch will run a nail down your cheek and call you babygirl in your ear and who wants THAT??? no one…. obviously. zero… people……. anyway

claire: claire is so hard for me to get a read on. she strikes me as the type of girl who was a super nose-to-the-grindstone i’ll-party-when-i’m-in-college type. but falling in with lorraine hall has probably stifled that a little bit. i feel like there’s a world in which she goes to a party (at like the cheerleader sorority) and feels so deeply out of place and insecure that she hides in a bathroom trying not to cry. But as we all know, crying in a bathroom can lead to some really touching cathartic conversations with weird strangers (FF May 2024). so like, yeah, she should be at the club, i guess? she should really be at the lesbian bar but that might have to wait a few more months

anna: i think anna tries to be responsible all the time. i think she would go, but be designated sober person, and maybe get into a fistfight when don or mila tries to start shit with someone. i think she would be trying to make sure everyone else is having a good time and pay too little attention to if SHE was having a good time. i just don’t know if she would really enjoy herself. i think she would have more fun having an evening with nin. she should be at the club if she has someone looking out for her

nin: i think nin would either love or hate the club with no inbetween. pre-Fuckening i would say absolutely not. exhaustion + nightmares + short fuse means it probably wouldn’t be super enjoyable. post-Fuckening, i could see them being more open to it. tbh i think the ideal club scenario for nin is sipping a drink at the sidelines and making fun of their friends who are drunker than them. sure, they should be at the club, if they’re feelin it

shay: jesus christ this man needs to unwind. now the club might not exactly be his scene (i think he would do well getting tipsy at a house show) but i think in general he would benefit from just chilling out for a night. go do a jell-o shot and make out with someone stupid bro the world will probably still be there in the morning. put him in the club EXPEDITIOUSLY!!!

shamsiel: ok i really really don’t know. I feel like being at the club could send her into a bit of a tailspin. lots going on. sounds noises people to keep track of. but also, in a crowd like that, no one really gives a shit about you?? i think she could freak it sensitive style and have a good time if given the chance. does alcohol work on angels. Does weed work on angels. I think shamsiel could be helped by smoking some weed. shamsiel should go to the club as an anthropological humanities study and then we can go from there

kelsie: i want go say yes, but the club is also where her situationship/on-off girlfriend is bartending, so maybe it would be best if she avoids that? i’m still rooting for her and arisha 😔 kelsie we can help you we just need to put arisha in a stressful enough situation where she has no choice but to see through the glare 😊 and then you can swoop in and save her 😊 this will have minimal traumatic consequences for her im sure 🥰

ok i got off track. she should be at the club

alder: i feel so confident that she should be at the club. their gnc swag. his cool tattoos. her mysterious past. his remarkably friendly attitude. she is the coolest person in this club you will try to talk to her and FAIL but she will laugh and be nice and give you a friendly shoulder pat that you’ll think about for the rest of the evening. also they deserve it

don: ok i feel like this guy is barely holding it together. he is a business major and not even a bro-y one. he wears sweater vests. he’s a little too mean to the bartender for no reason and doesn’t tip because the bartender had a shitty attitude at him. he snaps at someone for bumping into him. i think much like shay dude needs to unwind BAD but i don’t know if the club is for him. only if alder is there

lightning round

samara: yes

mary: no

ryan: yes

kyle: no

rhys: no

like an subscribe for more unintelligible insomnia posting. please argue with me i’m not 100% convinced of any of these

[arcade-confetti]

Pinned Post 📍 Last Updated: June 2025

-formerly @daisybell-on-a-carousel

Names: Robin, Spring, and Bonnie. Or just using a word in my url it's whatever 👍. As well as Tickets and Tokens for fun <-Tokens must be plural if used

Pronouns: Generally he/him I think, then they/them, then she/her occasionally. Neos are fine if I can tell they're about me

I am 18+

Feel free to send in asks and art requests for any fandoms I may be in at the moment. Art not always guaranteed but I have commission info at the end

I try to use tone indicators! Bad at keeping track of em though, you can always ask for clarification and I'll tell you no problem

All my posts are ask to tag!

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Relevant Sideblogs (both currently inactive)

Five Nights at Freddy's sideblog is @springlock-suits

Aesthetic blog is @daisybell-on-an-old-carousel

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Other Platforms (NOTE: I am MOST active on tumblr, if you try to contact me, you should use tumblr, I do NOT check nor am active on my other socials except for 小红书)

小红书 (rednote): Daisybell

Bluesky: daisybellcarousel.bsky.social 🔞

Instagram: springlock.suits

Flight Rising: DarlingDolly #418355

Discord: daisydaisygivemeyouranswerdo

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Info

You can tag me in tag games and piccrew chains and whatever! Tag me in just something you think I'll like! I love being @'d, even if I don't respond

I love getting asks! Please dont be scared, I think the greatest harm to sending me an ask is me not answering because I can't think of anything to say. But I don't secretly hate you or anything.

I am also very very deeply forgetful which mixes with my poor passage of time. You are very much allowed to poke me with a stick if I take awhile

Totally fine to ask me to unblock you, I'm willing to reassess. Very willing to admit I can be a bit too trigger happy abt it

If you're interacting with me please please don't negatively call any characters psychopaths, sociopaths, or narcissists; I am so very tired of seeing these being used as a synonym for 'bad person'

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I, can be really awful about actually doing things, even and especially if theyre things i WANT to do. If I mention I'm drawing something but it's gone unposted, or you sent me something or an ask and I didn't respond within like. A week. Poke me with a stick, I not only encourage this but I want you to do so. Art does not take me long if im actually drawing. I'm also super forgetful and WILL guilt myself into never responding if I took too long in my mind. So I'm telling you. I have absolutely no problem at all with being sent reminders or being asked for updates

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Emoji Tags

🎠🏚🌊 <-my original posting, the intent is I put it on every post I make

🪤 <- mutual/follower trap, I'm reblogging this post specifically for them

💥🌃🐦‍🔥🗡 <-general Jason Todd. I talk about him alot but don't always main tag it, so this is for all my untagged Jason rambles. Most used so the others below this one don't actually matter that much

🔴💥🗡 <-Red Hood Jason specifically

🗞🎫🪽 <-Robin/Kid Jason specifically

🐦‍🔥💥✨️ <-Magic/Immortal Jason Todd (to be used outside of my own posting/on reblogs)

🔴🐾🗡 <-Pup Play Mask Jason. When I feel like drawing him in that outfit again

Any emoji tagged Jason posting will be main tagged if it gets attention beyond my blog

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Note: I'll reblog some of my art on some Saturdays, tagged "self reblog saturday"

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Commissions

[parkitaco]

oooo fanfic ask game!

2) What fandoms do you write for and do you have a particular favourite if you write for more than one? 

17) Post a line from a WIP that you’re working on.

33) What’s the biggest compliment you’ve gotten? 

39) Do you prefer first, second or third person? 

40) Do people know you write fanfiction? 

hi!!!

2 - i've written for a few different fandoms in the past, but these days it's pretty much solely stranger things!! since it's my current brainrot it feels unfair to label it my fav against the others but there is def the most content here and i've gotten to explore so many different universes and takes on the same idea so i will say it's generally been a v good experience (politely averts my eyes from all of the chaotic st fandom drama that i do not engage with)

17 -

“You look different,” Will murmurs sleepily, blinking blearily at Mike’s sunlit face, “older.”

exes companion fic update is coming so soon i swear

33 - i have a few for this one, bc people say insanely nice stuff to me whenever i post my Big Sad Angsty fics and it always makes me cry like a baby, but in general i would say my fav compliments i've gotten (sometimes from multiple people) are 1. that i write with a very deep understanding of the human experience (?? still insane abt this one), 2. that someone considers my writing art or has resonated with it particularly deeply, or 3. that something i wrote has inspired someone else to write too!! it's crazy to me how much people can resonate w these silly little words i write in the middle of the night fr.

39 - this one really depends - for fic i typically do third person in present tense, though i've used past tense for fic before as well. when i write original stories i automatically use first person past tense, but sometimes third person past tense if the mood is right, and i love a good second person pov in the case of poetry or vignettes!! it rly just depends on the vibe of what i'm writing, but in the case of fic my preference is definitely third person present tense :)

40 - my family knows i write fanfiction, which was a choice i made that i regret each and every day of my life, bc my irl friends don't and i would rather die than admit that to them, and my family does Not Know How To Be Subtle About It. my dad is into st and has read some of my fics but he doesn't really Get It so i only send him the very like. Normal and Canon Compliant ones lmaooo

[radiantratqueen]

Your Grace,

It is an honor for me to take up the quill and address these humble words to you, for there is no greater joy than expressing my sincere admiration for the magnificent work you have graciously shared with the world. I know well that writing is an art that is often hard and, at times, ungrateful, yet Your Grace has woven a tale that delights the soul and ignites the heart.

Lady Elena and Ser Gwayne have found a very special place in my heart, and I treasure the way you allow us to see their stories from various perspectives. However, if I may, my restless spirit holds certain questions about your fanfic that I dare share with the hope that they do not trouble you.

Was the relationship between Lord Raymund and Princess Rhaenys merely an old friendship, or was there perhaps a hint of romance before he wed Elena’s mother? And what of Lady Joselyn—was there ever a time when she showed kindness to her son and grandchildren? I adore the relationship you portray between Lady Laena and Elena (I wish I could protect those two souls from all harm), as well as the bond between Lord Raymund and Gwayne, so deep and heartfelt.

I hope I have not been too bold with my questions, and if I have troubled you in any way, I beg you to forget them and pardon this desperate lady, captivated beyond measure by your writing. I still have many more questions, but I believe it is only fair to allow the story to unfold as it will.

I am deeply grateful for your time, and I send you my best wishes.

Lady Lyra Arryn 💙🏹

(btw sorry for my english, english is not my first language but I still study it)

Lady Lyra,

Words cannot express how happy this message has made me and I am overjoyed that you love my characters and story as much as I do.

And to answer your questions yes, there was a hint of romance between Lord Raymund and Princess Rhaenys before they married their respective spouses, most even believed that they would marry each other for a time but alas it did not come to be (which was a massive slap in the face for Raymund).

As for Lady Joselyn she is a complicated person, she was married off to Lord Robert Redwyne (who is an actual canon character and not a man I just made up) and her relationship with motherhood is complicated. She did not want to be a mother but she does love her son, she does not express it well, she and Raymund were very close when he was a young boy but as he got older and became more like his father whom she despised she began to distance herself from him, their relationship soured further after the deaths of his grandfather and father in 89 AC when he was pushed into the position of Lord of the Arbor when he was only fifteen, Lady Joselyn ever the political woman did not give her son a chance to grieve these huge losses properly. When it comes to her grandchildren, she cares for Desmond and Celia more so than Elena as all she sees when she looks at her is the woman who humiliated her son in front of the entire realm; she is crude and vulgar in her teachings to them as she feels they need exposure to the real world.

Writing about Laena and Elena's relationship has been one of my favourite parts of this because it reminds me of when I was that age and the awkwardness of puberty, as well as the camaraderie that came with the shared pain of first periods.

I will admit I was apprehensive about posting this fanfiction as I have included some very dark aspects into Gwayne's story and I was not sure how people would react to that thing with a pre-existing character. So it makes me very happy that you enjoy his bond with Raymund.

I am delighted that you asked these questions and gave me the opportunity to ramble about my characters. It means so much to me, your questions were not bold at all, they were very well composed and if you have more feel free to ask them of me. Once I have wrapped up this fanfiction I fully intend to write one following Lord Raymund's youth as well as the story of Princess Daenys.

Yours Truly, The Rat Queen

(Your English is exceptional you have no need to apologise, it's the only language I know and I struggle with it at times)

[beach-illustrations]

Hi, I'm here to ask about ArtFol again, since it's been a few months and, well, you know how tumblr is doing right now

Have you been using the site since? What's your opinion of it now? Would you recommend it as a place to jump ship to from having an art blog on here?

I have been! Artfol is nice all things considered, they have a strict anti-AI policy which is a breath of fresh air right now. That being said I'm not entirely sure what precautions they have set up to deter AI scraping in the first place.

Ultimately, yes I would consider Artfol a good art blog alternative as long as you don't mind having a smaller audience than what you'd normally get on Tumblr. This especially goes both for posting original content, or fan art (which usually gets a lot more eyes on your stuff on Tumblr fast but for Artfol, it doesn't really do much to draw attention.)

There's still some discrepancies between the web version and phone app version- specifically features like the featured gallery tab and commissions sheet for your profile are still app exclusive. A little bit ago they finally integrated the groups feature to the app and opened up group creation to all users, not just premium subscribers. Best user experience you can get if you want access to all the free features is to have the app downloaded on a phone if you can and switch between using that and the web version on a laptop. It's deeply annoying to have features split like that but Artfol hasn't been around for too long, so I'm willing to give it a free pass for now.

I will admit, Artfol hasn't really been keeping my attention recently. Part of that is due to my new job, the other part of that is that I don't have any of my old mutuals on it. A huge reason why I've stayed on Tumblr for so long is because of the other people and especially the other artists I follow and everyone is more or less scattering to the four winds, rather than all jumping to the same exact platform.

With that being said, Artfol still has a relatively active and thriving art focused community! I haven't interacted with other users too much but the few times I have, everyone has been friendly and polite. If you're worried about missing the community aspect Tumblr provides (which I personally very much was!), Artfol is pretty great in picking up that slack. Community groups have been a personal favorite! Just pick a group you feel like you fit into, join it and now you're able to shoot the shit with others in that group, as well as make posts exclusive to that group! I'm in a furry group and a clip studio paint group right now.

And, of course, Artfol's main feature of serving as a gallery for folks to post and show off their art is pretty damn good. I really like the gallery set up, the featured artwork section is fun (you can put up to three pieces you've posted in a separate section above your main gallery! so everyone sees those pieces first, regardless of when you posted them!) and the collections feature in general is a HUGE favorite of mine. Beyond using tags, you can organize your art in separate folders for both yourself and for people visiting your page to peruse!

Artfol is still relatively small, especially in comparison to Tumblr and hasn't really gotten the same level of immediate traction such as BlueSky. It seems to be doing well right now, so if you're looking for a stable platform as well to host your art, Artfol could be a good choice.

[holisticsoulhealer]

Self Mastery - A Spiritual Story

Ooh… this is a favorite topic of mine, and one I am always ready to do more, learn more, be more on my own self-mastery journey of discovery. One of our greatest errors is in considering we are “there” or have arrived at some point of knowingness. It’s not even possible to fully arrive, while in a human body, which has it’s own natural limitations.

Some of my best experiences were shared with others along this pathway of self-mastery. When I describe this to myself with guides nodding in agreement, it’s that I’m an unfinished symphony, and an unfinished masterpiece of brilliant art. The best part during this lifetime, is to enjoy each brush stroke of understanding and learning we can add to our canvas of life, and not take too much time to worry about adding brush strokes to anyone else’s canvas, unless they ask, and you have something to offer.

When we have unified experiences, there’s something really sacred and holy about that. I remember while staying at the Ashram in Virginia, getting dressed all in white for their kirtan evening of prayer, chanting and love, in the chapel of the center there. As I was scooped up with the girls in our building, who had all become quite close in the first week of our month’s commitment of being at the Ashram, we stepped into the chapel. There was a spiritual trio, sat on yoga cushions, covered in gorgeous golds, silvers and colorful silks, dressed in white, with smiles of love on their faces, nodding at each and every individual as they walked in. My heart lurched at such honoring recognition, and immediately tears sprang to the backs of my eyes. Simply walking into the space had already deeply moved me. I sat with my girls, near to the front, and the trio explained that they would sing, and we would all sing back to them.

The music began and it built. The energy built and built. There was a heartbeat in that room. I could feel it, and so could everyone else. I saw a man silently weeping with his hand on his heart and eyes closed. I decided to mirror that freedom of allowing the beautiful music deeply in, singing and chanting, listening and repeating, with eyes closed and heart fully open. Wow!!!

Weeping began and I simply allowed the master within me to feel and live in the fullness of that expression. I wasn’t sad. I wasn’t releasing grief. I was in love. I was in the moment. I was so grateful. The gratitude was so outrageous, I couldn’t hold it in me, it had to escape, and tears came. Thank goodness it wasn’t laughter that day.

I must admit, I had a very different experience, on another somber occasion, when we placed cow dung on our forehead, as part of the custom of ritual, in a ceremony, where we sat and simply listened to chanting and prayer, and didn’t join in. I began to get the giggles. It was so not at all appropriate. I rushed out and walked as far as I could and then let all that laughter out. It was such joy. It was really loud, belly laughing, rib aching laughter.

I’d gone quite far, but a few people at the back of the room could still hear me. They thought something had come up for me and I was struggling with it. Quite a few of them came to me, asking if I was alright. I could barely answer them, because the laughter was still very much present. I cannot tell you why or what I was laughing at. I will tell you it felt so good to allow it.

Self-mastery rocks!!!!

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Love & Blessings,

Ruth

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[wandaswigglywoes]

@greendayu294 you asked, I delivered. Side note; can I ever just write a simple scene without delving into a long ass intro? Guess not. Also, some of the dialogue was inspired by this fantastic fanart, so please give it a like. It’s amazing. Anyway, I hope you enjoy! Thanks for the prompt. (:

Growing up in the Red Room and then ultimately being chemically subjugated, romance had never been an option for Yelena unless it was pertinent to a mission, having been trained in the art of seduction as a means to get information. Once she was finally free though, she found that anything to do with romance and what came with it wasn’t for her. It wasn’t that she was necessarily against the idea, but that it wasn’t a top priority. Generally speaking, she was very apathetic towards the idea.

That was, at least until she met Kate Bishop. Funny, charming, beautiful Kate Bishop. Yelena knew from the moment they’d made eye contact on that roof top, that there was something about her. She wasn’t exactly sure what, but her instinct had never led her astray before and Yelena had always been curious. At least she was before and after chemical subjugation, especially after— eager to experience things and explore the world without seeing everything through a red haze.

And so she’d sought her out.

(Because she was curious, obviously and not because she was craving human connection. That was uncool.)

First by doing a little more research and then by dropping by her apartment, just to get a feel for her. Maybe warn her to stay away, because Kate Bishop was not her target, Clint Barton was.

But Kate had surprised her, and it wasn’t often that Yelena was surprised. That was the only reason she did as Kate had suggested, look into what kind of person had hired her in the first place… and then proceeded to pass that information along to Kate since it pertained to her.

(Not because she had a soft spot for her or anything, it’s just hard to learn that everything you thought you knew was a lie. Yelena was sympathetic to that. It was out of solidarity.)

But then that whole fight in the office building happened and well, Yelena had really enjoyed their back and fourth. It had been so long since she felt anything other than anger and hurt, but her short time with Kate Bishop had briefly made her forget that she was deeply angry at the world, at Clint Barton, at Natasha.

She tried very hard in the beginning to stay away from Kate after everything, but against her better judgement, found herself sneaking into Kate’s apartment a few weeks after New Years.

And now, nearly 6 months later, they were nearly inseparable. Somehow, Kate Bishop had weaved herself into Yelena’s life. They were partners as Kate liked to say, going on missions together to free other Widows and dealing with whatever cases Kate’s private detective business drummed up. They’d gotten pretty close, too. Close enough that they weren’t exactly dating — at least nothing had been verbally stated — but Yelena was pretty sure they were as close to dating as you could be without kissing or having sex. There were a few close calls, where if Yelena had just inched a little closer—- had met Kate halfway, they would have been kissing.

Yelena couldn’t remember a time that she’d truly been afraid, aside from those last moments during the Ohio mission and some time after, but closing that bit of distance? Finally shining a light on the unnamed feelings between she and Kate? That seemed scarier than dying— which, was completely uncool and she would never admit to it, not even under the threat of death.

Maybe soon she would find the courage, for now she was happy to spend time with Kate Bishop her partner, her friend; To share post-mission drinks with her at some dive bar.

Or she would have been happy had she not turned to spot some douche with his hand on Kate’s thigh. Yelena had never felt jealousy before, but later— when she looked back on this moment (and spoke to Kate about it), she would attribute the burning feeling in her gut to jealousy.

She wasn’t sure when she’d started moving, but suddenly she was standing behind the stranger, taking in Kate’s uncomfortable smile.

“Thanks, but I’m not interested,” She was saying.

The hand on Kate’s thigh moved further up and immediately, Yelena’s hand lightly gripped the back of the stranger’s neck before he could speak. “She has a girlfriend,” She stated clearly, trying for polite, yet vaguely threatening.

This didn’t seem to come across to the man, because he smiled at Yelena, somehow taking that as a challenge. “That’s okay, I can share!”

Yelena laughed, but it was anything but friendly. “You misunderstand me,” Her grip tightened around his neck and she could feel the veins throbbing at the sudden pressure. “That was not a statement, it was a threat. If you do not remove your hand from her thigh, I will remove it for you. One finger at a time,” She smiled at him as he gaped at her. “I don’t think you want that— sorry, what was your name?”

“K-Kevin,” He squeaked, snatching his hand away as if he’d been burned.

“Kevin!” Yelena’s grin widened, but her eyes burned holes into the side of his face. “This is the part where you remove yourself from the situation, no?”

Kevin scrambled off of the bar stool without a second look and shoved past the other patrons while Yelena watched on, the burning fire in her gut adequately sated.

“What the hell was that?” Yelena snapped her gaze back to a wide eyed Kate Bishop.

Yelena refused to feel guilty, or embarrassed as she took the vacated stool. “What was what, Kate Bishop?”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Seriously? You basically just metaphorically marked your territory!”

Yelena’s insides squirmed at the thought of Kate Bishop being her territory, of course after a moment she chastised herself because Kate Bishop didn’t belong to anyone. “I’m sorry, I was under the impression that you did not want him touching you, or around you.”

“I didn’t— it just,” Kate swallowed and Yelena could see that the conversation was headed somewhere serious. “It just… sort of seemed like you were… Jealous. I mean— because you know I can handle myself, so why would you…”

Kate trailed off, and immediately, Yelena’s cheeks grew hot as she realized that Kate was right. “Not here, Kate Bishop.” She muttered, pulling out way too much cash and slapping it on the bar before quickly tugging Kate outside into the cool night air.

For a moment, Yelena just stood there, breathing in the cold and holding onto Kate’s hand.

Kate allowed her, seeming to sense that Yelena needed time to collect her thoughts, but after a few minutes, the hand in hers squeezed gently. “‘Lena?”

Yelena’s eyes squeezed shut for a moment, gathering the last ounce of courage she could before turning to face Kate. “I think— I think that you are right,” She finally said, meeting Kate’s surprised blue eyes.

“You— you were jealous?”

“Yes, and I know that I shouldn’t— that I have no right because we—“ Yelena felt like her heart was going to explode in her chest, it was beating so hard. “We are not together. So I apologize if I have crossed—“

“We could be…” Kate interrupted, sounding almost hopeful.

“— a line— what?” If possible, Yelena’s heart seemed to triple in speed. And maybe now that Kate was standing here, offering what Yelena had been thinking about for months, maybe now she was realizing why she had never acted upon her feelings. “Kate, no— you do not want to be with me…”

Kate’s hopeful little smile turned into an angry pout. “And why not?” Her hand squeezed Yelena’s now slightly sweaty hand.

“Because I am me, and you are you,” Yelena explained patiently, voice sounding sad and tired. “Because you are good and kind and I have done horrible things, Kate Bishop. Horrible, unimaginable things.”

Something softened in Kate’s gaze and her free hand reached up to tentatively cup Yelena’s face, thumb brushing underneath her right eye. “You are not your past Yelena. You were under mind control. Those things were not your fault, they were the fault of the people who were calling the shots,” Yelena’s throat burned with the familiar coppery taste of tears. She desperately wanted to believe that. “And even so, you’ve been working so hard to right your wrongs and that’s nothing if not admirable. So yeah, I wanna be with you.”

Yelena swallowed thickly, meeting Kate’s soft gaze. It was almost too much, like looking directly into the sun, but Yelena held fast. “Kate…”

Suddenly Kate was in her personal space, their noses a breaths width apart. “Yelena, do you like me?” Yelena could do nothing but nod. “And I definitely like you,”

“Kate—“ Yelena tried again, though her self control was hanging on by a thread.

“No, you don’t get to decide what I want.” Kate said fiercely. You of all people should understand, was tactfully left unsaid.

That struck a chord in Yelena, because though it was a harsh implication, it was no less true. Yelena could not and would not ever take away Kate’s free will. And though Yelena was still not convinced that she deserved anyone as kind as Kate Bishop, she could not help but want her. “Okay.”

Kate’s smile had never been as bright as it had been in this moment. “Okay?” Yelena couldn’t help but smile back as she nodded. “Can we finally kiss, then?”

Yelena laughed, cheeks flushing with happiness and the thought of finally getting to kiss Kate Bishop. “I’d like that.” She said, just before she met Kate halfway.

[aceshigh10987666]

[Transcript: Hey um, it's basically been a week since Wicked came out. Exciting, I've loved seeing people's reactions, um all the love for the movie it's, I mean I'm a fan obviously um, but there's something that's made me a bit uncomfortable um, and as somebody who's disabled with the platform I just wanted to talk about it really quick um starting off by saying two things. I have my laptop here by the way. I'm reading my thoughts because I get scatter brained and if I don't have my thoughts on a paper -

Anyways um, it is absolutely okay to not like a fictional character. I am going to be admitting my bias in the way that I have a lot of different feelings on Nessa than a lot of you do and that's totally fine. I think Nessa is complex*, um, but that's the beauty of art and Wicked. These characters and the movie wouldn't be what it was if there weren't different opinions on the characters and who's truly wicked or not and not liking Nessa herself is okay um, because she is fictional, that is totally fine.

Um, number two, I am a deeply unserious person, I love a little jokey joke, the house jokes? Silly, goofy, harmless because the basis of the joke is fictional. Jokes about Nessa's actions, her personality? Silly, goofy because she herself is fictional.

That being said um, and if you are looking for the comments in my comment section I've attempted anyways to delete most of them, um. Aggressive comments and jokes about Nessa's disability itself is deeply uncomfortable because disability is not fictional, um at the end of the day, me Marissa is theh person that is still disabled and in a wheelchair and so it is simply a low hanging fruit that too many of you are comfortable taking.

Um, before even being cast in wicked I had received comments just as me, as Marissa not Nessa, around the - I - or around the words of um, 'stand up for yourself,' 'I guess you can't stand him,' etc. These comments aren't original um and when these jokes are being made by non-disabled strangers with a punchline of not being able to walk it very much feels like laughing at rather than laughing with, um and the most - I'm literally shaking a little bit -

Uh the most frustrating part about all this is how scared I am to even post/talk about this um, which is also the bigger reason as to why I'm making this video in the first place. This goes so far beyond me, Marissa, just needing to ignore comments on the internet. These comments do not exist in a vacuum, um, aggressive comments of wanting to cause harm and push Nessa out of her wheelchair or that she deserves her disability are two very gross and harmful comments that real disabled people including myself have heard before.

Um I am scared also because I have seen firsthand what has happened to my disabled peers who are outspoken online when it comes to calling out ableism and why jokes of standing and being a vegetable - which is a derogatory term, by the way, for disabled people and a comment that I saw about Nessa.

Um these disabled creators' comments are flooded with ableist comments um, when speaking on ableism they're told to just take a joke and that they're asking for too much and to stop complaining to the point where some of my disabled peers use - disabled creators - have needed to take a break online for their own mental wellbeing. To state the obvious, that's not good.

To wrap this up because this is, it's, it's been a long one, um, **rather than dismissing one another and claiming an experience can't be true because you personally don't feel that way about a joke that wouldn't have affected your demographic anyways, listen to the people or to the person that it is affecting and how it makes them feel.

Thankfully I'm at a place in my life today where I can recognise these jokes about disability are made out of ignorance. I can't say the same about Marissa ten years ago um, and it would've affected younger me a lot more and I'm worried that a younger version of myself is somewhere on the internet and is harmed by these comments.

And I'm not claiming to speak for the whole disabled community when I'm saying this and I'm not trying to but I do know and have seen not in this specific instance but similar comments be made on my disabled peers' and disabled creators' videos to the point where again, it runs them off the internet. That's not good. Please be kind.

Um, and lastly I wanna say one of the major themes within Wicked is having the ability to listen and to understand one another and I truly hope that is something a lot of you can practice more and take with you. Thank you, love you, bye.

- Text added to the video by the creator:

* And not just black and white* she 100% could be a better sister. But I don't feel, (at least for now 👀) that she's an intentional villain ** Talking specifically to my non-disabled viewers specifically here:

/.end transcript]