#and my shitty posture in general

[barbwalken]

wanted to do the ArtvsArtist2023

I use a lot of red for someone who isn't a fan of it 🥴. Im always trying not to use it, but it's just too damn good for contrast 😩🤏

This really was the year of drawing lot of zelda stuff, but mostly ganondorf, I could easily fill this with only ganondorf images haha

Also this year I finally got my tablet (with screen and shit) and man, I love it.

[darlinguistics]

'its just IMPOSSIBLE to not be addicted to your phone nowadays its UNREALISTIC-'

heres some advice to being less chronically online. for gen z (and younger??) who dont even know how to start thinking about it and have only heard shitty advice from older adults who just genuinely do not get it, from a fellow gen z and my experiences so far.

*these are personal and may not all 100% resonate but its still good prompting to start thinking about things! PLEASE feel free to add your own stories/advice in the notes! support your fellow humans, dont gatekeep what youve learned, lets have these conversations! and no negativity/pessimism please <3

first thing is to make it a less scary thought, a more concrete idea and not a hypothetical. it doesnt have to be all-or-nothing, cold turkey, a huge announcement and a fundamental shift in your personality. the internet will be in your life for the rest of your life, this is an ongoing relationship you are trying to make healthier thats all! and it takes one step at a time and some self-compassion, but a true effort nonetheless. 'dont you think thats a bit too serious-' if youre my age you quite literally grew up and developed online, it is literally part of your psyche the way your childhood is, it IS serious, you deserve to treat it seriously.

dont save your login info/dont stay logged in for social media accounts, having to manually log in when you want to go on like youre on some elementary school chrome book is a really healthy and clear boundary to have between being logged off and logged on.

-> bigger challenge - uninstall it on your phone in general, only log on on your laptop/pc if applicable for you!

if youre motivated to, try to work on your posture too. i only say that because most of our bad posture is at least partially related to being on our phones a lot, and when i started wanting to fix my posture, completely separately and unrelated from trying to break my phone addiction, it made it easier to lose interest in my phone since i didnt want to ruin my progress with my posture. it made me start to have a mindset like 'well if you cant do this on your phone with good posture then dont do it' and 'if youre on your phone so long your posture starts to cave in, youve probably spent too long on your phone anyway'

listen to music more. its easier for me to kinda write off my phone and do other things if i just open music or a podcast or long youtube video on it. i know we all love long video essays, but i recommend music more specifically for me at least because im less inclined to pause music or scroll while listening to it for some reason? whereas using a show or video or podcast for white noise, im way more likely to also be scrolling on my phone and that is my activity lol. music for some reason i dont want to interrupt and instead of being on my phone i can clean or do something productive on my computer etc

this one is sooo hard but try to fall asleep with some distance between you and your phone, even just a couple feet. mine stays on the desk next to my bed which isnt that far but its better than on bed like it used to be. when you wake up you probably wont feel like reaching for it right away if its far and even better if you have to get up for it because then at least you stand and move your body first thing instead of looking at your phone first thing. and try to get more and more of your morning routine done before touching your phone over time.

-> for me, i started by just trying to at least wake up a bit in bed before touching it, then stand up before touching it, then stand and stretch, then going to the bathroom first, making coffee first, feeding the cat first, etc. its surprisingly helpful to have a specific chore/task in mind that is The requirement so that everytime you do it you get a lil dopamine rush for unlocking your phone from yourself lmao. when the weather was nice i used to make my Requirement being outside first before going on it and i LOVED that. esp as it got easier and i started doing more and more before going on it and finally walking outside with coffee and my phone felt like such a pleasant little reward.

find a hobby that uses your hands. example: i really need to get back into knitting because when i did it regularly so much time that wouldve been on my phone was spent knitting with music/podcasts/shows/(even online lectures! when i felt productive lol) playing. its the same amount of physical relaxing - barely moving lol - but uses a longer attention span and a much better dopamine hit than scrolling, i literally MADE things.

-> you might be thinking, 'but mindless knitting isnt better than mindless scrolling is it?' but that mindless feeling on your phone is just that, mindless. the mindless feeling you get when doing something like knitting is actually closer to a flow state, which is actually incredibly good for you, like a fulfilling nutritious meal as opposed to 'empty calories' or whatever

get a widget for your homescreen that shows your screen time. i have one and of course it doesnt always stop me but seeing that time go up all day the more i use it and the pride of keeping it low is really helpful

practice grounding. in general.

spend more time on anonymous activities and have more privacy and less attachment with your 'persona' - what i mean by that is, i consider things like scrolling through tumblr (for me personally!) to be relatively harmless because i dont try to like,, brand myself here. if youre a tumblr regular you know the jokes - 0 follows, 0 notes, screaming to the void, moots you dont talk to, blorbo pfp and urls, fake names everywhere, and we're having fun! basically targeting the 'everyone is famous now' thing with this one - embrace being a nobody with no personal stakes here

-> personally ive never kept up with having social media accounts that are actually just, me irl - like a facebook or main instagram, like a locals account yknow? but i think it goes for that too - stop spending so much time trying to further personalize your online presence in the hopes of it representing you perfectly - because it never will, and it shouldnt, and you shouldnt aspire for that. your social media presence is lighthearted and incredibly surface-level, treat it like that! thats not me bashing social media either, having that mindset will make it more enjoyable bc youll be using it as it should be used!

do following/followers or camera roll/files or app purges. this is also a soft launch type of way to practice easing into a better mindset. aside from just literally getting rid of junk, the process of trying to judge whether or not you need something is good practice in mindfulness! even if you dont delete everything you feel like you maybe should, thats fine, youll do other purges in the future too. eventually youll get better at parting with things and realizing when things that feel good in a moment are actually bad for you. and it forces you to regularly check in on your more long-lasting parasocial relationships online and how theyre serving you or not

speaking of parasocial - for actual friends, if theyre irl, think about how much you interact with them online vs in person and why you think that is and how it affects you. maybe youll wanna see them more irl if possible (i promise its better for your friendship), maybe youll realize you dont need to keep tabs on them anymore (old high school acquaintances lookin at you). for celebrities and fandom things - try to think about the bare minimum content from them you could do with. you dont have to unstan all your faves and stop enjoying things - but do you need their notifications on? do you need to have a stan account? do you need them on all the platforms? do you need to have all that saved content of them? are there aspects of this that you love that could be found elsewhere?

if youre of the genre of online where you just cant help yourself from getting involved in big discussions or discourse and arguments - i recommend journaling when you get upset by something online, articulating your feelings without the idea of someone ever reading it and without the goal of 'winning' or being the most correct and logical or even the most sympathetic and morally good. take away every audience aspect of it. what is this really about for you, and why would strangers online deserve to hear your personal well-thought out opinions? why would your thoughts deserve to be simplified and misconstrued and underappreciated the way they would be in this discussion? is there even an outcome to this where you feel truly satisfied? are their people who are more worthy of hearing your thoughts who arent part of this audience? is this a conversation that is best held online where so much communicative nuance is inevitably sacrificed?

in the end these are all just practices in remembering how in control you are. and that goes for if any of these are scary or too difficult sounding too! these all become less scary if you remember that as soon as anything becomes too uncomfortable or painful, you have all the power to stop doing it, make a change, and try again later. so much of advice for quitting bad habits can be intimidating because the pressure and the shame that would come from failing scares you out of the possible benefits of trying - just go ahead and kill that shame from the jump. of course youre going to fail! you are going to have setbacks! thats part of it! you have agency in this, always. the internet is not inherently or completely evil nor good. build trust in yourself to make the calls on when it is serving you and when it isnt on a case-by-case basis, and then give yourself permission to learn through trial and error.

and remember you are worth all of this effort. i believe in us <3

[cowboyellies]

august e.w. (1)

summary/ author’s note: hello! this is my first tumblr fanfic (also my first post because I’m not really sure yet how this website functions lol) I decided since it’s august to write an ellie fic inspired by the taylor swift song! (and the folklore love triangle in general) for those already aware of the story, ellie is supposed to be james, dina is betty, and the reader is augustine.  the characters are all supposed to be in the summer before they start college (18) so a slight difference from taylors lyrics. other than that the story is pretty much the same (aka angsty with a sad ending for poor reader </3) this is gonna be a multiple part fic so buckle up!

for those not knowledgeable in the folklore cinematic universe: after an awful fight with dina right before the start of summer (and dina’s three month long summer trip) ellie is left with unanswered questions about her and dina’s relationship and their future. ellie then meets you and pretty soon you begin a summer fling, leaving you questioning whether she was ever yours to lose?

warnings/themes: angst!!lots of it, cheating (womp womp), ellie is stupid and kind of a dick, reader is delusional and a little pathetic (me core), alcohol and weed use, eventual sexual themes (prob not in great detail because i suck at writing smut) talk of non consensual groping, homophobia (fun!)

word count: 2.1k

---

you decided to leave the prom an hour and a half early. the music was lame, the tacky decorations didn’t do nearly enough to mask your public school’s moldy gym, and your date, who you had made sure to inform multiple times that you were just going as friends, tried to stick his tongue down your throat in the middle of the dance floor. you said goodbye to your small group of friends who were still partying with their dates, and made it to the exit of the sweaty gym, making sure to toss the lame corsage you had been given in the trash on the way out. since your debt ridden public school had cheapened out at the last minute and moved the prom’s venue from a nice event hall two towns over to the gymnasium, your friends decided to skip the whole overly expensive limo thing and just take your cars. you made your way to your old but lovable station wagon and began driving the opposite way from your house. you knew if you came home this early your mom would bother you with questions so you figured you’d stop and get a slurpee to pass the time.

and that’s when you saw her, the girl you had seen earlier in the night awkwardly standing near the punch bowl fiddling with her thumbs while her date danced energetically with her friends. you had seen ellie williams before but never paid much attention to her. she had a famously close friendship with dina woodward, probably the most beloved girl in your small town yet she herself kind of flew under the radar. It wasn’t until tonight when you saw ellie in her black suit, arms linked with dina as they entered the dance that you realized they were definitely together. given your small town’s outdated views and ridiculously rampant gossip mill they could obviously never label themselves as together publicly, but you could tell. you knew the small town closeted lesbian look all too well. 

you noticed now as you approached the reddened stop light where you both would be waiting for the next minute that she looked really sad. her posture crumpled as she trudged along the broken cobblestone, a look one could only describe as heart broken across her face. Impulsively you felt your fingers moving to roll down the car window. you weren’t the type of person to involve yourself in anyone’s personal problems, but the mixture of your own shitty night and ellie's grim expression moved something in you to open up that window. 

“hey!” you called out to her across the sidewalk. her saddened daze broke and she looked up at you surprised, so lost in thought she forgot anyone else in the world existed. “get in!” you yelled, shocking yourself in the process. you watched as her face changed from confusion to wariness. you watched as she mulled the proposition over in head, registering your prom dress as a sign you had come from the same place as her and therefore most likely were not trying to murder her, only give her a ride home. she hurried over to your car before the light could turn green, shutting the door with intense force behind her making the both of you slightly jump. soon after the light turned green and you began driving to the 7-11 which was only a couple of minutes away, a 90s song quietly played in the background as you nervously tapped your fingers on the wheel, starting to regret your decision as you weren’t sure what to say. 

Ellie opened up her mouth a few times to talk, but realized she wasn’t sure what to say either. This night had worn her down to exhaustion and for the first time in hours sitting silently in your car provided her with a surprising sense of calm. as your car finally pulled into the neon lit 7-11 parking lot you finally turned to look at her. her expression while still sad had lightened a little and you noticed now under the intense lighting how pretty her freckles were. 

“do you want a slurpee?” 

—

you and ellie sat on the hood of your car quietly sipping your slurpees, yours a mixture of cherry and coke, her’s blue raspberry. the parking lot where you sat was vacant, the only other car there was likely the worker of the 7-11 behind you. 

“so…” you began to speak, putting an end to the comfortable silence. “prom was pretty great huh” you joked. she shook her head and smiled lightly, turning to look at you the first time that night. she noticed quickly that you were very beautiful, a fact that hadn’t crossed her mind in the midst of her heartache. she wondered suddenly why you had left the prom as early as her, another thought that hadn’t crossed her mind. 

“so um, dina, was she your date?” you asked, trying to keep your voice as nonchalant as possible, already knowing the weight behind your words. you noticed her body stiffen and soon regretted bringing it up. 

“sort of yeah,” she replied, her voice harsh. an awkward silence rested between you two until she began to speak again. “what about you, no date?”

“I wish, I had a date, jamie dawson. I thought we were just going as friends until he tried to grope me during the cha cha slide,” you cringed, taking another slip of your slurpee.

“gross. he’s a dick.” she replied. he was a dick, ellie had thought so ever since she caught him looking at dina’s ass while she cheered at last year’s fall pep rally. she wanted so badly in that moment to yell at him, inform him she was taken. but of course she couldn’t.

a similar situation is what led to her current shitty mood. she showed up to dina’s that night, crumpled corsage in hand as she nervously knocked on her door. she was greeted by dina’s dad. mr. woodward had always scared ellie since the first time she had met him in eighth grade. he made his disdain for ellie clear to his daughter, as he disapproved dina having such a close relationship with a girl like her, a girl who skateboarded around town in her dirty converse and boyish clothes. he hated how close they were and even though they had always done their best to hide the real nature of their relationship, he always suspected something was going on between them. when mr. woodward saw her at the door standing in her thrifted suit, his face crumpled in contempt, the first hindering in ellie’s confidence that night. 

she brushed past that as she made her way into the woodward’s foyer where dina and her friends resided. ellie knew most of the girls due to cheer performances and all the time’s dina had dragged her along to events like this, but she was never really close with any of them. along with dina’s friends stood their dates, most of them douchey football players who were among the bunch of boys who found pleasure in shouting homophobic insults at her in the school halls. the one nice one among them she recognized was jesse. ellie knew him from her astronomy class and had always liked partnering up with him for group projects, his sense of humor was similar to hers and they always found themselves being scolded by the teacher for laughing during lectures. 

she creeped inside awkwardly waving as the crowd eyed her entrance. dina wasn’t in the room and she quickly began to panic until jesse snapped her out of it by dapping her up. 

“ELLIE!!!” he shouted as he wrapped her in a bro hug. she found herself being thankful to whichever cheer girl brought him as her date. 

soon after dina descended from the stairs, scanning the room to see if ellie arrived yet. when her eyes landed on the auburn haired girl she broke out into one of her signature bright smiles. when she reached ellie she quickly wrapped ellie in a hug, making sure not to let the gesture linger considering her parents were in the corner setting up their fancy digital camera. “took you long enough,” she teased

“sorry I forgot your corsage and had to go ba-” 

“I’m just teasing you, I don't care,” she replied gently, reaching down to grab the plastic corsage container. ellie blushed, noticing since she’d arrived all of dina’s friends sporting much fancier corsages. “I love it!” dina beamed. opening the box for ellie to put it on her. dina’s parents eyed them from the side of the room, suspicious of the intimate gesture. The only reason they allowed dina to go as ellie’s “date” was because dina told them no one had asked her. that was a blatant lie, there was a day the week before prom where three boys had asked her in one lunch period. 

the group lined up for group pictures and ellie stood nervously, trying to look as platonic as possible posing next to her girlfriend of almost two years. soon when people began branching off to do couples pics, dina’s parents beckoned her over. ellie stood in her original position but could clearly hear the whole conversation. 

“we noticed that nice boy jesse is going stag, why don’t you two pose for some pictures together?” dina’s mom prodded, stroking dina’s hair. ellie tensed. 

“mom n-” 

“come on sweetie, when you're older don’t you want to show your kids pictures of your date from your senior prom? not pictures of you and your friend,” her voice hardening on the word friend. dina began protesting more but suddenly mrs. woodward was calling jesse over to them. ellie watched in the corner as the woodward’s began posing the two of them together. dina sported a tense smile while jesse, confused by the situation but happy he got to be in that close of a vicinity to a hot girl smiled brightly. 

after the pictures the group made their way into the big limo dina’s parents had rented. dina linked arms with ellie and quickly noticed her tense nature. “hey, i'm sorry about that,” she whispered softly. 

“s’ okay” ellie replied, forcing a small smile. she knew dina wasn’t at fault for her parents' insane actions, but that didn’t stop her from hurting whenever they pulled stuff like that. 

the rest of the night continued on regularly. ellie still felt awkward amongst dina’s friends but tried her best to put on a front for her. as she and her friends danced energetically to early 2000s hits, ellie stayed to the side, letting her girlfriend enjoy the night without having to subject her to her awkward dancing. she figured she would pop in during the slow songs, the light swaying they required being the only move she could handle. that’s why when the ridiculously corny ed sheeran song that for some reason dina loved came on, ellie began making her way to the dance floor. she stopped suddenly at the edge of the floor when she saw dina smiling as she swayed with jesse. ellie’s heart dropped when she saw their joyful expressions, jesse spinning dina at a completely different tempo than what the song called for, both of them laughing hysterically

in retrospect ellie should have known this supposed act of intimacy she had walked in on was just jesse dicking around and trying to ruin the slow song for the rest of the couples on the dance floor, but seeing her laughing and holding onto his hands made ellie want to hurl. so much so, she quickly exited the gym. trudging alone in the dark scraping her doc martens on the rundown cobblestone street until you came along, offering her a ride.

you watched as ellie finished her slurpee, her face bitter as she recalled the night's events. you didn’t press her on it any further, knowing by her expression whatever had happened was bad. 

“where do you live? I’ll give you a ride. I have to kill time before I get home anyway,” you said as you slid off your car's hood and began unlocking it.

“thanks,” she replied, mimicking your actions. after she got in the car she began thinking back to your last sentence. “why can’t you go home?”

“don’t want my mom asking annoying questions. you know, worrying about me and shit,” 

“I get that,” she thought of what joel would say when she returned home, all bleary eyed and disheveled looking. she realized she should probably wait to go home until she knew he was asleep. “actually, um if you don’t have anywhere to be… could we just drive around for a bit?” 

you smiled softly and placed your hand on the ignition, “sure.”

—

authors note: sorry not much happens in this chapter I promise it will get good in the next one I just wanted to introduce the story a little and try to explain ellie and dina’s relationship before I got into writing more about the reader and ellie🫶

[stillfrownyclownlol]

Aiden BPD headcanonsssss because my dad is being weird and I feel weird too

(Most of these are based on my experiences living with somebody who has bpd, and maybe myself but we won't talk about that haha)

Tw for all the things bpd tends to cover (self harm, abuse, substance abuse, and suicidal ideation, brief mention of cannabis in a medical context)

-definitely a big source of trauma is his parents basically abandoning him for long stretches of time

-Prone to splitting regarding them. When they're not around its so much easier to be like "Whatever, fuck them, I don't care." But when they *are* around, they're always so affectionate, a lot of "it's not their fault they're busy", "they don't mean it", kind of thoughts...it's okay Aiden, people can still love you even if they treat you badly :/

-y'all know he's self destructive. Yall KNOW. He's been in 7 different go-kart "accidents", once broke his hip trying to impersonate Tony Hawk, and he WILL be crashing his car into a tree after binge drinking.

-Self harms as a form of stimulation sometimes. He just gets SO bored. Usually will slam his head on the nearest hard object or cut himself with his compass.

-has been to a "wellness center" (mental hospital) after an episode where when his parents were on a trip, they returned and found him catatonic on his bed, he hadn't gotten up for almost 8 weeks and his mattress was stained with urine. Not to mention he'd gotten extremely sick after eating only Ramen. Called this a "blip" and hasn't done anything like this again, but only cuz he hated the hospital so much :/

-not really good at managing his anger. He gets pissed off easily (his jaw starts clenching), but has definitely eased off with the yelling and picking a fight with the person. May say some things he may or may not regret later :/ might like kick the wall or smth too-

-his feelings of emptiness and boredom get really exacerbated when he tries to sleep, so he just doesn't sleep until he passes out from exhaustion.

-extremely rare, but if he cries its almost never the appropriate time.

-his favorite person (and I mean this in the bpd way not just the usual way) was Ben, now it's Ashlyn. She asks Ben for advice sometimes on how to understand him better. Is trying to get better, but he just wants all of her attention all the time. He could make a soliloquy of all the things he loves about her. She's the one who pushed him to go back to therapy and told him "hey, I think you have somethinh"

-Weirdly protective but in a hands off way?? Even tho he really doesn't handle himself well? He knows his friends can take care of themselves but it doesn't stop him from running through the worst case scenario. Freaks out if people are late, especially if they're punctual. Also really defensive of them, they do no wrong in his eyes (except when they do :/)

-used to push people away to avoid disappointment or abandonment, especially because they needed to move so much. All his relationships were very superficial. Ghosted people a lot.

-Has chronic pain as an adult because of all the injuries he suffered through as a kid, not to mention his shitty posture. He takes painkillers, but they leave him zoned out and with even worse insomnia so he doesn't take them a lot. Sometimes uses medicinal weed if the pain is really bad. Ash tries to help by rubbing his back, though she says she's not that useful. He always feels better afterwards tho ❤️

-Smokes if he is really stressed, but he's ashamed about it and tries not to do it too much. Picked it up after stealing some of his mom's cigarettes when he was younger.

-his inner voice is extremely negative and he is generally under the impression that everybody hates him. Tries to act like this doesn't bother him and acts like a nuisance because if everybody hates him why even bother filtering his thoughts or actions?

-why were you even born? Who'd love a screw up like you? Your own parents didn't even want you.

-rejection sensitivity and gets really depressed if he's upset one of his friends. Will usually self harm to cope because he think lashing out will make things worse and he just doesn't know what else to do.

-he loves deeply and he's fiercely loyal. He's good with children. He's a wonderful artist. And he is so very incredibly kind. His bpd does not define him as a person.

I don't know if anybody needs to hear this, but, having BPD is not a death sentence. You're not doomed to be a bad person or an abuser, and I say this as somebody who was abused by someone with BPD (my own father). People with BPD are scared, they are struggling, and most of all, they're tired. If you or somebody you care about thinks they're have bpd, try to contact a doctor or specialist and seek professional help.

I'm gonna go cry in the shower now :)

[alkalische]

Quick Design analysis of Hoederer's changes

Darknights Memoir Appearance (DESIGN 1)

-he's soooo ferrety here. silhouette is a lot rounder and softer (esp around the shouldersand boots) and his hair gives a nice prickly texture at the top, adding some visual interest

-colour pallete is also limited, with red being used to visually draw your eyes to important areas (his face and the little dangly thing which i assume to be the kazdel signifier)

-combined with the goatee and the ripped up cape he ends up looking a lil scraggly. which is fitting for a merc who who's constantly on the move

-I feel like his hair being so shittily cut might imply practicality. Maybe he cuts off the fringe so it doesn't get in his eyes.

-he's also pretty heavily armored and dressed for the cold kazdel climate. I feel that it kinda looks like his posture is stooping a little with the weight of the armour which is interesting. He looks bulky and weighty.

-Position of sword implies that he's right handed

-interestingly he's got a crossbow on his back, which doesn't make in into any of the other designs. suggests he can use one.

----

Chapter 10 Appearance (DESIGN 2)

-It's been a couple of years. His face looks less sallow, his cheekbones less pronounced. maybe he's been eating better. His hair is also longer. He did keep the parting, though.

-Notice he's facing you with his right side (can also be seen in his 3rd design). It's cause he's only got one eye and he's looking at you with it

-His shape language changed to be a little more sharp, a little more triangular, suggesting tension and danger. You can see triangles and sharp edges being emphasized throughout the design (shoulderpads, chestplate taper, kneepads)

-He's still as armoured as his previous iteration, it's just that the armor design is also a lot less bulky, it's got the prominent 'sarkaz occupation in victoria' look that a lot of the NPCs tend to have

-The armour doenst use as much geometric shapes, instead having patterns of intricate smooth curves. You can also see this on manfred's arm

-Anyway the less bulky armour suggests that he doenst have to be carrying supplies around with him as he does whatever job manfred sends him out to do. He's kind of got a place to return to at this point.

-He's holding his knife in his left hand here. Is he just holding it temporarily or can he use both hands? My theory is that he probably favors his right hand.

----

Playable Appearance (DESIGN 3)

-This design is kinda a combination of his first and his second design. He's gone back to having rounded design language, but still retains aspects of the sharpness and danger of his second design.

-He's actually shed most of his armour here. He's not wearing any kind of chestplate. Literally just wearing a T shirt (you can see a strip of exposed skin on his bicep and also in his e2) Bro is wearing a cape and light armour over T shirt and pants no WONDER he takes so much damage

-The flowing cape lets him keep some of that nice spikiness and balances out his roundness.

-Red thread all across the design, binding him to W and Ines.

-Generally a notable increased amount of red being used across the design.

-He's got more scars on his face, and has returned to charmingly shitty short haircut. Oh but the back part of his hair is actually as long as the second design's one, it's just tied up. Poor hedley doenst have thick hair genes.

-His shoulder pads are reminiscent to his merc armour, but the arm guards are the same as the kazdel's armour.

-I really like the way they make him turn his good eye to the camera to get a better look at us it makes a lot of sense

[princessprettyprivilege]

Can you share your experience with pp and how it benefitted you?

My Experiences & Benefits of Pretty Privilege

Sure! I’ve experienced pretty privilege since I was 18-19 since that’s when I left the house more. This is what I remember.

I formatted this like a resume!

The first time I realized pretty privilege was a thing was when this guy wouldn’t stop staring at me from a car ahead at the drive thru and I thought my windshield was cracked but I couldn’t see it, I was having some type of vehicle trouble I couldn’t see, etc. but he paid for my frozen matcha latte packed with sugar and whipped cream 🤣

that day I had on all black, curled my hair, and wore my fenty eyeshadow & NYX eyeliner nearly touching my eyebrow tails.

He told the baristas he thought I was so good looking that he’d pay for whatever I had to look at me longer.

I was shocked since that was a new reaction I got, and this time I wasn’t age bait like my mom would say.

If you’re legal, don’t go out with your parent(s) since they’ll fumble bags in your place.

The Casino

🍫 Go on the floor although I said I wasn’t 21 3x but no food bags on the floor (still makes my eye twitch) 🙄 I think I was 17 at the time

🍫 The eye fuck I got from the restaurant at the casino the night before: the entire room stared, old guys came into stare, husbands with wandering eyes got slapped and pulled out of the restaurant before ordering, husbands & wives stared together, then my mom told me she wouldn’t let anyone cover my meal anyways which killed my mood

My Drive Thru Era (18-19)

✨ The fully loaded matcha latte

✨ Nitro cold brew from Starbucks

✨ Taco Bell

💞 My emissions testing was covered + the tester did magic and cleared my vehicle codes

20

🌸 Men tipping me at my shitty 1st job whenever I’d wear makeup since they enjoyed looking at me + I smiled for FREE 😳 that’ll keep you awake at night

I remember Range Rover guy the most since I saw it enter the lot before he did and I stared 🤣🤣 he told me to hold onto his change for pocket money which was around $25-30

✨ Got invited to golf (19-20) work conflicted

🌸 Don’t show me black cards anymore unless you’re authorizing me

🍫 man pulled out money for my lunch at a steakhouse, but ma wasn’t comfortable with that

🌸 Bill money flashed 😂

🌸 President of university flirts 🚨 lawsuit!!

Generally

🌸 Skipping line

💖 Being told I was too pretty to work and I needed an old man sponsoring me

🌸 Suddenly every married man is single

🌸 Change covered

🌸 Free drinks

🌸 Easily let into traffic

🌸 Men are gentler around me and did my work for me

🌸 Casually walking into the house and announcing my grocery or whatever was covered

🌸 Money for not doing anything

🌸 Less to no consequences

🌸 Liability for sexual harassment or leveling up from male higher ups, so I didn’t get hired

🌸 Women bosses flipped out on me for being a distraction

🌸 I’ve never been pulled over, but local police let me slip by

The benefits are the same, I’m experiencing life with some options, but I plan to be fully loaded with options than before.

This happened when I was at the bare minimum for leveling up: eyeshadow & eyeliner, okay ish hair, not paying attention to my posture, sedentary

I don’t expect anything magnificent in my own community because it’s not HCOL and I know I didn’t put much effort in in the past to realistically earn the benefits of a dolled up, highly attractive woman.

I could say it was Pretty Privilege Lite but my experiences may mean a lot to someone else.

I’m quickly approaching 21, and I’m pulling out all stops now! ✨

[therealgchu]

15 lines of dialogue

15 Lines of Dialogue Rules: Share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an OC, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the OC. Bonus points for just using the dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

thanks @fangbangerghoul for the tag! tagging @silurisanguine, @atonalginger, @bearlytolerant

"I can sit still if I want to, but it takes a great amount of self-discipline, and that doesn’t leave much energy to fully pay attention to people speaking. I need to be physically moving for that. For some reason, people find knitting to be less annoying than fidgeting. I don’t know why."

She shook her head, “Dissociation. Or something akin to it. I can turn off all emotions and my mind goes into a purely logical, analytical mode. I was processing data.”

“Rice and kimchi. I don’t like tacos.”

She exhaled slowly and nodded, rolling her shoulders back, correcting her posture. “I’m sorry. I generally don’t like to be touched,” she said coolly.

"There’s not a lot scarier than middle-aged Korean women."

"If I wanted a man, I took him. If he wasn’t interested in me, that was fine, I moved on. I love sex. I love men. I love the way they look, the way they smell, the way they feel, the way they taste. But, I’m not going to play some stupid game to get one. It’s not worth my time.”

“Anyway, yes, I really like that metaphor. Criminal caterpillar to crime fighting butterfly. But, without the liquefaction.”

She turned and looked at him, and poked him in the arm. “You look like a chicken leg,” she said in the same growly voice, and started squeezing his bicep.

Hwa looked at him critically. “Nothing. You can’t fix me, Sam, I know you mean well, but I’m not a broken doll to be put back together.”

She picked the drink back up, glared at it, then swallowed it down in one gulp. “Get me another,” she shuddered.

She twisted the skirt of the dress and lifted it so that her entire backside was uncovered. She leaned a bit, holding onto the railing and looked back at him, “Easy access,” she purred, “also why I wore these ridiculous heels. Makes things easier.”

Her eyes drilled into his, “So, no. My mother did not love me. I have no urge to see her again.”

"Pirates are kinda stupid. The whole pirate romance thing was nonsense. Scurvy, buggery, frequent starvation, not my idea of a good time. As someone that spent way too much time in their teen years reading Horatio Hornblower and learning about Lord Nelson’s Navy, being a pirate was pretty shitty."

She nodded, “But, I think she got bored by the end, too. And, it’s very difficult to read when you have slices of cucumber over your eyes. I’m not sure what the cucumber slices are for, however. So I ate mine.”

“Vodka, it’s for what ails ya,” she said flatly, lifting the drinkbox as if in a toast.

[hxhhasmysoul]

"JJK really went from a loved manga to a mid-to-bad story with insufferable fans 🙏 may more of us hate it in the future. It snatches the spotlight from genuinely good shows and its another case of "general shonen fan will call any trash 'goat' if the fight is well animated".

I used to be a fan, until the start of the culling game. And after this controversial, inconsistent and inhumane adaptation of shibuya, im glad that I have no interest in both manga and show anymore.."

Thoughts on that statement? Do you think culling game really that hard to understand, cause I saw quite a lot start dislike JJK since that arc....?

If I had seen this in the wild I would've blocked the account that produced it. I block for very liberally and while I will block for obvious bigotry and shitty harassment behaviour, so like serious reasons,I will also block for general annoyance. Fandom is my hobby and I don't want it to be annoying and stress me out through unleashing my adhd and flood my brain with thoughts. And this qualifies as annoying.

But since you brought this to me I will actually explain why I find these kind of posts annoying and not worth engaging with.

While I would've blocked it before I got to the second paragraph on the "may more of us hate it in the future" alone, I will actually start analysing it from the second paragraph where op pretends to give an explanation for this turn in attitude towards JJK they experienced.

Reason 1:

"I used to be a fan, until the start of the culling game."

Op invokes the Culling Game arc as if it's an obvious reason to dislike JJK and hence your question at the end of the ask. And I will get to that but I need to set the stage first.

Reason 2:

"And after this controversial, inconsistent and inhumane adaptation of shibuya,(...)"

(Side note, I find it genuinely dodgy that Shibuya, an actual rl geographical location is not capitalised when the abbreviation of the manga's title is.)

What is controversial, inconsistent and inhumane about the adaptation of the Shibuya arc? The working conditions at Mappa are inhumane indeed, but it's an industry wide problem and with how JJK is a beloved title the animators actually could do a strike with a chance of the company making concessions. I don't think there would've been the same amount of fan support and pressure for animators of smaller titles. And the way the anime is produced isn't really the reason why JJK as a story should be hated because the story isn't responsible for industry exploitation that has been happening since long before JJK was even conceived by its author.

The word "controversial" honestly feels flippant when it's together with the far more appropriate "inhumane" and feels like it was added for the aesthetics of having 3 adjectives.

Now the word "inconsistent" actually makes me believe that the outrage in this sentence is not genuine and is typical posturing of "I'm critical of the media I consume so I'm a good person" crowd." This is the only adjective that actually describes the adaptation and not its creation process. And the inconsistency of the adaptation is in its animation quality. And that inconsistency stems from the inhumane working conditions. Pulling is out as a reason as to why op is "glad that I have no interest in both manga and show anymore." feels really callous and shows their hand, that they are upset that they can't consume the pretty moving pictures in peace anymore.

Huh...

"It snatches the spotlight from genuinely good shows and its another case of "general shonen fan will call any trash 'goat' if the fight is well animated"."

This is a typical example of trying to put on the guise of intellectualism through being against the popular thing. There's also this classist distinction between high art and pop culture with the idea that only a certain level of education and intelligence allows for interacting with high art thus it's only for the intellectual elite.

So there's a certain group of people who equates obscurity with quality because if they can claim liking things that others don't know about they feel like they are smarter than the rest. This way they can make an appeal to intellectualism even if they are not interacting with what would traditionally by the upper classes and social climbers be considered high art.

Popularity means that the unwashed masses like it and and the intellectuals will look down on them and their tastes, even if the intellectuals are leftists. The mob is defined by its stupidity and by liking primitive and simplistic things for vulgar reasons.

In this framing, the moment JJK became popular it lost any claim to quality. JJK is liked by the "general shounen" fans who only like pretty moving pictures. The shounen fan mob doesn't care about the "genuinely good shows" and because the mob is huge and loud those better shows suffer in obscurity. Of course no show gets specified by op because they are addressing this to those who are in the know - like those who are at their level will immediately conjure the image of those "genuinely good shows" and nod along.

And now we will circle back to the Culling Games arc. This arc feels like a HxH arc, especially Hakari and I love it. But not only for that. The arc is much slower than the previous ones and I actually hoped it would be a signal that the story will slow down like this, take more of its time to follow one or two characters and delve deeper into them. I love how that arc fleshes out the power system so much more. I hoped we would get more on the new and old characters, and we get it on same Yuuji, Megumi, Maki, Noritoshi, Hakari, Kahimo, Charles, Higuruma though not enough on Kirara, Uro, Remi, Ishigori or the Kyoto school characters or later on Hana and Angel, the time wasted on Yuuta could've been used much better. But alas then Gege cut the breaks and put their foot down on the acceleration pedal and it makes me sad.

The thing is that the Culling Games are disliked because of how slow they are and how much reading there is in them. You will read the chapters online and the comment section will be full of:

"wtf, i'm not reading that lol."

"what did i just read, i don't understand a thing"

"ugh, does anyone know what's even going on in this manga?"

So saying that JJK fans are "insufferable" "general shonen fans" who only like flashy animation and the bring up the Culling Games as a reason why JJK is bad, is very funny to me.

People also stop liking JJK at the Culling Games because the Shibuya arc removes or sidelines several favs of the western tumblr and twitter fandom. Sexyman Nanami gets killed, cute Inumaki gets sidelined, sexyman Gojou gets sealed, sexyman Chousou stays in the tomb with a woman and it's becoming very hard to be delusional that Kenjaku isn't a real important character of their own but actually sexyman Getou who will return soon.

There are many new characters introduced who aren't sexymen, apart from Higuruma and Kashimo (canonically Kashimo doesn't have a defined gender but when has that ever stopped the fandom).

And the western fandom does not like Yuuji and even among those who claim to like him there's a not insignificant subset that likes their head canon of him as a manic pixie dream himbo that they like as a background to their favs and not as someone the story concentrates on.

Basically the Culling Games are not fast and flashy enough, and the arc is really hard on those fans who were skipping dialogue when it delved into lore and power system in the previous arcs. Already Shibuya gets difficult at times if you didn't pay attention to the world building in the earlier chapters but with the Perfect Preparation and the Culling Games and anything after I imagine it must be a chore to read when all the concepts seem new but the plot and character arcs heavily rely on the previously established world building.

The truth is that if you delve into the fandom tags it quickly becomes perfectly clear how poorly the fans are acquainted with the text. How to many fans the characters exist mostly as their head canon versions and not as they are in the text. You will see fans complaining that the manga changed into something else from something they liked. But when you learn what they think the manga used to be it becomes apparent that they were ignoring huge portions of the text for one reason or another and just focused on the parts that interested them. That they blow out of proportion the significance of their favs and get disappointed when the story doesn't centre them.

It's okay not to want to follow a story when the character you liked dies or gets sidelined but that doesn't mean that the story is bad for it, that it's definite proof of bad writing or whatever. And it's not the story's fault that someone only liked one or two characters and didn't care about the rest, it happens.

And this is the crux of the issue. People who write opinion like the one above speak as if they represent some large group. The language of the post you cited suggests that there's some general consensus about the quality of JJK, about the Culling Games being the reason to dislike it. That the choice is exclusively between these two options:

thinking that JJK is "mid-to-bad" for some reasons that should be obvious to the reader

or being a part of the unwashed anime fan masses who like it only because of the animation.

You're either among the intellectuals who are in the know and also morally correct in their hatred for the story or you're an insufferable cretin.

People like the author of that post can't just dislike something, can't fathom that something can be not for them. For them it's not okay for something to exist in a neutral way and not be for them. Them not liking a thing means that there's something "objectively" wrong with the thing and the people who like it. And they can't fathom that a serialised story not going in the direction they like doesn't mean that it's "objectively" badly written. It's natural to feel disappointment when the story one used to like turns into something they don't enjoy anymore. But posts like this hint on the fact that the author believes that stories exist just to satisfy them personally and when it fails to do that it needs to be publicly denounced and anyone who dares to like it needs to be shamed and informed of their intellectual failures.

[polarisbibliotheque]

97;Vergil!!

You have NO IDEA how much I started laughing when I saw this was the song for the first one of the Spotify Wrapped Special requests xD

I mean, the lyrics kinda go pretty well with Vergil, but the chaos and viciousness of the song is directly opposit to the blue devil. Nevertheless, pulled it off: started dumb and ended on a sweet note!

Spotify Wrapped Special: 97, Vergil - Reckless Life, by Guns n' Roses

Pairing: Vergil x Reader

Summary: Dante gets bored easy - specially when Vergil keeps reading his poetry in silence. It's time to go out and have some fun: the red devil has a thing or two to show you about your beloved blue devil.

Author's notes: I once saw a drawing on pinterest with Vergil answering the phone at the shop while having drumsticks in his hands and drummer Vergil has lived rent free in my mind ever since. I didn't pin it and have no idea who the artist is (pinterest being shitty with people pinning other's art and not crediting it), so I'm writing this to curse you all with the image of drummer Vergil as well, enjoy :)

About the Song: Reckless Life is from Guns n' Roses' album, Lies. It features Slash screaming at the beginning, it's kinda short and fast-paced. Gn'R has a lot of punk influences, Duff (their bassist) being one of the guys from the punk scene in Seattle before moving to LA and joining Gn'R. Even if there's a lot of blues in their music, more so on Use Your Illusion 1 & 2 albums, they always have the crazy, fast-paced, vicious, quick punk rock songs - this is one of them. The lyrics are about their reckless rock n' roll lifestyle, so it kinda suits the song in general.

This isn't researched, I just thought it'd be nice to leave my two cents on the songs that end up here. I'm a crazy music lover and could talk about it all day, so feel free to skip these "about the song" bits if it isn't to your liking ^^

97, Vergil – Reckless Life, by Guns n’ Roses

“Man… You gotta learn to have a lil’ more fun in that life of yours!”

As always, Dante was sitting on his huge chair, leaning on the desk while looking at his brother. Vergil, in the other hand, had his legs crossed, sitting with a perfect posture on the couch – limiting himself to only raise his silvery eyes from the pages of his current read.

“I am having fun.”

As he muttered in response, Dante just glanced at you with exasperation in his sky-blue eyes.

“Hey, he’s your brother. Don’t look at me like that.” You shrugged, leaning on his desk while skimming over the magazine that was left there for half a year.

“Hell sure wrecked your sense of fun…” Dante sighed, slapping the desk while suddenly getting up. You and Vergil just stared at the red devil. “We’re goin’ out! C’mon, get yourselves ready!”

“We don’t have enough money for whatever you want to do, Dante…” Vergil just rolled his eyes, turning them back to his book.

You held back a laugh. They were perfect for each other; you would always stand by that.

“We don’t need money, ass-hat!” With that, Dante gently kicked Vergil’s foot, making his brother stare at him as if summoned swords would suddenly pin Dante on the wall. “Gotta show ya how to live this life, c’mon. Let’s go!”

You didn’t argue. Leaving the magazine back on the desk – which would probably stay there for another half year – you took your leather jacket and waited by the door.

“You’re going along with this, huh…?” Vergil’s words were slow, and his eyes were piercing, but you were already used to that, just shrugging in response. He sighed, heavily. “I am going to regret this…”

*

“Hey, wanna see somethin’ cool?”

A slight smile appeared on your lips as Dante leaned by your side on the bar and nudged you with his shoulder.

“Why do I have the feeling it involves vexing Vergil…?” You looked back at the red devil with a smart look in the corner of your eyes, making Dante flash you a positively mischievous grin.

“Because annoying him is usually cool.” Dante winked at you. “Since we were kids, sweetheart.”

Vergil came back with a couple more drinks for each of you – both had done a job for the bar owner and the poor man wrongfully gave the Spardas the honor of never having to pay for anything in the bar.

Indeed, you didn’t need money to have fun that night. Point for Dante.

“Ya know, I can play the guitar like a beast…” Dante suddenly started talking a little too loud, obviously for Vergil’s ears. “But I bet Shakespeare over here completely forgot how to play something cool instead of only his boring violin songs.”

“It isn’t boring, it’s classical music.” Vergil glanced at his brother with an icy look. “You should try it sometime. It might get something into that foolish head of yours.”

“Believe it or not, I’ve already heard Dante blasting classical music.” You had to point that out. Of course, it wasn’t the brooding music type Vergil enjoyed, but the more energic ones. Mozart was an all time favorite of the red devil. “No. It wasn’t Bohemian Rhapsody, although I do count that as a classical song.”

“Who doesn’t?” Dante agreed but kept on speaking as soon as Vergil opened his mouth to argue. “Anyway. Bet’cha can’t play drums like the good ol’ days, smart pants.”

You immediately glanced at Vergil, mouth slightly open. The blue devil noticed your glare but didn’t give in: he had only a stern look to his brother.

“You play drums…? Really…?!” Oh, yes. That night was surely turning into something very interesting.

“I don’t find it that surprising.” Vergil had one of his eyebrows raised, his icy look still in his eyes. The rosy tone on his cheeks, on the other hand, gave away how the alcohol was starting to affect him – even if just a little.

“We used to have a band when we were kids, sweetheart.” Dante leaned on the bar again; his cheeks also rosy. His behavior and cocky smile gave away how much the alcohol was getting to the son of Sparda, though. “The Hell Brothers. Dad laughed a lot when we told ‘im the name.”

“Mom thought it was terrible.” Vergil chuckled as he reminisced alongside his brother. Not something you would see every day. “I thought it was fitting.”

“On that, we agree!” Dante laughed at him, but scoffed right after. “The good ol’ days are gone, now. Smart pants over here probably forgot everything.”

“Well, for your information…” As soon as Vergil started talking, you had to hold back your laugh. He didn’t let that side of him come out much, but the mix of alcohol and Dante taunting him, made Vergil lift one of his fingers and get this professorial look while standing tall. You had to say, you loved it. “I do remember. I even picked up a few songs after we grew apart.”

“Really?!” You and Dante asked at the same time, leaning towards Vergil with an unsurmountable amount of interest in your eyes.

He was a sitting duck, willingly entering the predator’s nest – you and Dante. Poor Vergil didn’t even see it coming.

“Bet’cha can’t play on stage with me.” Dante smacked the bar; his sky-blue eyes fiery like his devil trigger. “You don’t have the balls.”

“I don’t, huh…?” Vergil’s silvery eyes carried Dante’s taunt, with a different fire – one filled with competition.

Both of them had that issue – but Vergil held on to his pride even to survive. It was his pride that dragged him out of Hell – and it was his pride that made him fall into the stupidest of bets alongside his brother. Vergil’s beautiful strength but ultimate fatal flaw.

You couldn’t help but smile. Such a dumb, wonderful powerhouse of a man-demon.

“Never had, Verge. You’d say you don’t want to look foolish…” While talking, Dante threw his hair back, making his voice darker and raspier, impersonating his twin. You snorted while drinking, having to spit it back in your glass – definitely not one of your most wonderful moments, but that lit something inside Vergil: he was being made fun of and you couldn’t hold back your laugh. The game was on, right then and there. “But we both know it’s ‘cause you don’t have the balls to go on stage and show your skills. Must be all old and rusty.”

Vergil didn’t even answer. He just took off his coat.

You stared back at him, eyebrows furrowed. It was rare, but there was Vergil wearing his leathery vest, arms completely free and hands covered only by his old gloves. He usually sported this look while training with family – you and everyone in the crew included – but it was very unusual for him to have bare arms on the streets. He gave you his treasured coat, making you immediately hold it.

“Save it for me, please.” With that phrase, Vergil turned the glass with his drink in one shot, drinking it as if it was water. You looked even more baffled. “So. Are we going or what? Don’t you have the balls, Dante…?”

You turned back at Dante – eyes wide and a surprised smile on your lips; but no surprise was better than the one stamped on the red devil’s face. Dante finished his own drink in one shot as well, laughing in the process.

“That’s what I’m talkin’ about! C’mon, smart pants!” He got up, clapping in excitement. Turning back at you, Dante winked while talking. “Get ready to see The Hell Brothers, sweetheart!”

You watched in awe as Dante had a word with the band playing that night. When they looked at Vergil – arms crossed, just staring at them – the men shrugged and figured why not. After all, everyone there knew Dante and a favor could be collected as a favor later – in case they had any problems with demons.

The bassist and vocalist went to the band area with the Sparda brothers – Dante using a pick from the guitarist and Vergil with the drumsticks from the drummer. You could hardly believe that was happening, in all honesty.

“Hey, bitches! Pay attention, we got new guys playin’ this one with us!” The vocalist took the cigarette out of his mouth to scream on the mic, making everyone turn to them. “They call themselves The Hell Brothers, a mouthful, huh?! Let’s burn this place down then!”

“Wat’cha wanna play, Verge? What do you remember?” Dante turned to his brother, who was testing the pedals while the vocalist was speaking. Vergil just lifted his silver eyes to his twin; a smirk playing in the corner of his lips.

“You know this one. Try to keep up.”

With those words, Vergil hit the cymbals four times before releasing all his strength on the snare drum – Dante immediately smiled, knowing very well which song was. He didn’t expect that from Vergil but hey, he didn’t even expect his brother to accept playing with him again either. As soon as the cue for the guitar came in, Dante began the fast and vicious riff of Reckless Life.

“I’m reckless and feelin’ no pain, you know I’ve got no need to control! Livin’ with the danger, I’m always on the edge now, with million dollar visions that I hold!”

Fast and vicious was a nickname for both of them – although, as soon as the vocals started singing the screamed lyrics, you noticed Dante was able to slow down to simple chords, but Vergil remained on the same speedy beat, setting the quick punk rhythm for the whole band. He didn’t stop and it seemed he didn’t lose both rhythm and strength.

That was another thing you noticed while watching him: Vergil followed his twin brother and played like a beast, almost as if he envied Tommy Lee himself. You argued the drummer of Mötley Crüe was one of the most entertaining to watch just from the sheer strength he used to play, but Vergil… He wasn’t much different, if you had to admit.

There was something raw, brutal in the way he played. Nothing like the refined emotions Vergil could sing with his violin… That was his baser instinct, his devil coming out. Indeed, they were the Hell Brothers: you could see a facet of Vergil he so very rarely let out.

On the brink of the riff, Vergil already had sweat dripping from his forehead – arms slightly glistening from it. You opened a bright smile when you saw him singing along to the lyrics just before the riff, closing his eyes as he played with his feelings overflowing.

“Livin’ like this never ever tore my life apart, I know how to maintain, ‘cause it’s comin’ from my heart!”

There was something of beautiful about his fangs slightly showing and the savage light on his eyes as Vergil opened them again – meeting yours for a brief moment. You smiled back at him, singing along the lyrics. And that, made him smile back – a cocky smirk, but nonetheless, a beautiful one.

“I lead a reckless life! And I don’t need your advice! I lead a reckless life! And you know, it’s my only vice!”

It was one of your favorite parts of the song really, just how the drums followed perfectly the guitar solo. As Dante shredded as well as Slash himself, he turned to the drums, finding Vergil’s eyes. The brothers smiled at each other for a glimpse of a second – something that made you scream, rooting for them. Dante was going all out on the guitar, and Vergil was following it – you didn’t want any of them to have a sudden moment of logic that could spiral them into their usually depressive thoughts. They were having fun, as brothers, after so long.

You could only imagine how Eva and Sparda were proud of them playing together as kids even if they weren’t that good when they were young – something you doubted wholeheartedly.

Planting one foot on the bass drum, Dante kept soloing while Vergil quickly rolled his eyes – either way, he kept on playing, never allowing Dante to slow down for a second. He kept the vicious rhythm, complimenting Dante with cymbals and snare drums whenever the song called for it.

You could swear the drum was going to fall apart at the end, really.

“Reckless life! I lead a reckless life!”

A small pause on it made Vergil rest the drumsticks on the snare drums, throwing his head back so his hair could go back to its place – the white locks were dripping with sweat and his neck was glistening as it seemed like he had just come out of a swimming pool. Vergil could try all he wanted, but his hair was already coming down his eyes – but it didn’t really seem like he cared at the moment.

With a breath for the last riff, the fierce rhythm came back, only to wrap up with him smashing the cymbals and snare drums in the same rhythm Dante stroke his chords, the bass drum never stopping for a second. You could see how both of the Sparda brothers could vent their frustrations and endless energy on rock and roll.

As they wrapped up the song, you got up from your bar stool, raising both arms and screaming as if you were seeing Guns n’ Roses themselves. The whole bar was fired up with energy, screaming and applauding, asking for more. Vergil left the drumsticks on the drum snare and threw his dampened hair back once more, as he always did.

“Hey guys, that was great! Wanna go for another song?” The vocalist covered the mic, turning to the twins as you approached quickly with Vergil’s coat in your arms.

“Eh, I dunno. Mister frowny face here doesn’t really play anymore, this was probably a one-time thing.” Dante pointed at Vergil, who just observed his brother for a while. “Thanks, though. It’d be nice.”

“Hey! You guys playing more?!” You had a huge smile on your face, eyes glistening in the dimmed lights of the bar.

“They don’t seem like they will, angel.” The vocalist sighed, placing one of his hands on his waist and smiling at you. He looked back at Dante and Vergil. “That’s ya dove?”

“Yes. That is my dove…” Vergil murmured in response, throwing his hair back one more time. “You would like to hear more, love…?”

“Hell yes I would!” The excitement in your answer made Vergil let out a quick laugh, turning his eyes back to Dante.

“Can you keep up?”

“Hell yeah I can, ass-hat!” Dante laughed, taking off his coat now. It was hot and the night was just starting. “Keep an eye on this for me, sweetheart?”

“No worries, red devil.” You winked back, placing Dante’s coat alongside Vergil’s.

You ended up on the table with the other members of the band – who were quite happy to take some time off and drink while listening to good music for a change. No one would mess with you, obviously, after knowing you were the Hell Brothers drummer's partner.

As the vocalist announced their next song and they tuned their instruments, Vergil still kept his gaze on his brother. It was something he had forgotten about – that feeling of playing with Dante, of having a brother. Of course, Vergil loved music and playing his violin was always satisfactory – but playing with Dante in a band had a different dynamic; a dynamic that couldn’t be replaced by any instrument in the world.

The songs they played together might not be the most refined and beautifully composed in the world, but they spoke to a baser instinct only they knew was there – and only they would understand in each other.

“I missed this.” Vergil’s tone was dark as always, but Dante’s ears were attuned enough to his brother’s voice, making him turn back to Vergil immediately. His twin’s eyes, for a change, looked like molten platinum. “I like playing with you, Dante.”

“I like playing with you as well.” Dante smiled back, his sky-blue eyes carrying the love he never stopped feeling for his brother – even after the most despicable things Vergil did, Dante would never stop loving him. “I missed you so much, Verge.”

As a spectator, you could only see the genuine and heartfelt smile that painted Vergil’s lips – and how his eyes were vulnerable. Looking back at Dante, he carried the same expression – as if both brothers would allow some tears to fall before playing; sharing something only they knew about.

You could watch them playing together for the rest of your life.

[wri0thesley]

so sorry to be that guy ack but the corset talk has really reminded me how modern media has ruined people's perception of corsets and women's clothing in general... Corsets are ye olden day equivalent of bras! They provide support, give the impression of a smaller waist silhouette (when it comes to structured corsets) and help with posture! Some enthusiasts of older articles of clothing have taken up to wearing corsets daily and are actually pretty satisfied with them, since they can be unexpectedly comfortable. Some people even wear them during sports!

If a corset is hurting you, or you notice you have trouble breathing while wearing it, then either it is a badly made one or you're wearing it wrong, so always be mindful! Your comfort and safety come first.

Back on the yandere based talk though... How utterly intimate the act of them helping you put it on can be... Someone like Jean or Lisa, oh so kindly agreeing to tie it for you, carefully lacing everything together. Jean would be so careful and patient, making sure everything is laced perfectly and that you're comfortable, while Lisa would watch. She'd run her hands up and down your sides, admiring Jean's handiwork once she's finished. See, you look so good like this, aren't you a beauty? Lisa was right to pick out this pattern, it looks wonderful on a sweet little thing like you!

On the other hand, Kaeya would be more interested in taking it off... It's been a long day, you want to get out of this, so of course Kaeya is here to help you out! Nevermind that you specifically said you don't want his help. He'd be so mean, taking his sweet time with it. And uncharacteristically silent, enough to make you uneasy, frustrated with him. He has a way of toying with your nerves without uttering a single word.

Diluc would ah. Yeah he wouldn't really have experience with this. Leave it to the maids. Maybe you can tease him by asking him to tie it for you, make him all flustered, but in the end the joke's on you bc it would take him half an hour just to make a mess :( Such is the complicated life of Diluc's darling.

oh anon, you absolutely do not need to talk to me about corsets! i wear an underbust corset semi-regularly (i wear fifties repro fashion and it works for the silhouette!) and have talked about it quite a bit here! i get needlessly angry at media about how Corsets Are Bad or scenes about 'oh i hate wearing a corset so much'. the newest bridgerton has a scene where a character says like "my corset is made of whale bones. whales died for me to wear it" and AAAAAGH. it's not. whalebone corsets arent made of whale BONES!!! tell me you did no research without telling me! also that recent news about the bbc/netflix/etc 'banning' corsets over health and safety concerns - JUST MAKE YOUR ACTORS WEAR WELL-FITTED CORSETS? STOP TRYING TO MAKE THEM AS SMALL AS POSSIBLE, JUST GET THEM CUSTOM MADE TO FIT CORRECTLY. ARGH. historical costumery my greatest foe . . .

(i also find mine super helpful for grounding and i know that's very common! i have shitty posture and it helps with that but also the feel of it being there holding me makes me feel a lot more Present! i will also always be an avid Shouter Of Not Buying Shitty eBay or Amazon corsets and supporting a creator or small business!)

ANYWAY

lisa . . . ack. miss lisa. lisa and jean talking about how pretty you look in what they picked out!

i simply think that there is something so much sexier about darling slipping off their gown and being in stockings and chemise and corset . . . so intimate, but still so covered up. diluc is having a breakdown.

[selectivechaos]

social anxiety disorder

the things i always forget about / fail to associate with this shitty disorder i have.

"is so intense that they feel it is beyond their control."

i always just thought of it as the big scary Social. but now realise it was: humiliation, judgement, and rejection. and that is why ...

... SAD includes if person is not anxious in social situations generally, but is scared in Performances.

avoidance is a symptom

it is not just within the situation, but also in the weeks/months leading up to, and after the event.

usually starts during late childhood, and looks like extreme shyness/avoidance.

feeling of the mind going blank is a literal symptom of SAD!

rigid body posture and soft voice are also literal symptoms that are often not talked about.

the anxiety happens whether we want to be in the situation or not! i hate my anxiety, not you. i hate the discomfort of being at the event, but i still want to be there.

source: 'social anxiety disorder: more than just shyness pdf' by nimh, revised 2022 version

disclaimer: just because these are symptoms of SAD, doesn't mean that if you have these symptoms, they are necessarily because of SAD. 🌹🌹

[yellowkitkieran]

What the Heart Wants: Part 5

Read part 4 here

Masterlist

Word Count: 3.1k

Summary: Kieran is your best friend’s older brother. Your best friend’s fit older brother that you definitely haven’t had a crush on for years. Not at all. And he certainly doesn’t like you back, that would be absurd...

Under normal circumstances, training days before matches are Kieran's favorite. There is a certain buzz in the air that is impossible to replicate by artificial means. Everyone chats while they work, helping each other identify weak points in the opposite team to exploit. He and his teammates work ten times harder as well, confident in their abilities. 

Today though? Kieran would rather be just about anywhere else on the planet. He'd rather be knee deep in a pit of sticky, hot tar than have to deal with the man who's been glued to his side since he walked in the door, bombarding him with questions about you. 

"Why do you call her Bug?"

Though Aaron's question is innocent, it grates on Kieran's nerves.

"Because she hates bugs," he answers sharply, focusing on the weight he's benching instead of his mate spotting him with a wistful, far off look in his eye. 

"End of?" 

"Yeah." Not really. But yes, as far as Aaron needs to know. Kieran came up with the nickname because you were always smaller than him growing up, and considering how small he was, that was a significant difference. The fact that you hated the nickname at first only made Kieran more determined to ensure it stuck, because your nose always scrunched up and he liked that.

Even ages ago, Kieran should've recognized the crush he had on you.

Now, he's screwed himself because you're in love with Aaron or whatever. Kieran lost his chance. Hell, he's not sure you even consider him a friend anymore- after the interaction he had with you last night, he'd guess not. 

"She's coming to the match this weekend," Aaron states, like Kieran wants to know every detail of your life. In truth he couldn't care less how you spend your time. "And she's staying at mine which means I'll get all the good luck wishes I could ever need." 

Aaron laughs, jostling Kieran's shoulder when he sits up. His laugh quickly fizzles out when he notices the tension in Kieran's jaw. 

"I'm joking mate, I know you see her like a little sister-"

"I don't care what you two do," Kieran snaps, immediately regretting it when Aaron's face falls. "She's not my sister, she's her own person and she can make her own shite decisions." 

Aaron steps back, his posture rigid. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Kieran wipes his hands on his shorts. Is he really about to do this? Drive a wedge in his team, potentially lose another friend?

Fuck it. Yeah, he is.

"You know exactly what I mean, Ramsdale. I don't mince words- I say things plainly."

Aaron's lip curls, along with his fists. "Fuck you, Tierney. Honestly fuck off-"

"I will, don't worry." Kieran stands, turning his back on Aaron and putting as much distance between them as humanly possible. The weights room is stuffy, the air stinking of sweat and filled with hard music from someone's shitty playlist. 

Actually, everything is shitty. If Kieran needed to pick one word to describe his general mood, it would be gray. Without your friendship and now without the only other person he'd truly think of as a friend, Kieran already feels lost.

Popping in his ear buds, Kieran hops on a treadmill and cranks up the speed. He blasts right past jogging, running, straight into a full sprint, pushing himself so hard and fast that his limbs scream for him to slow. He doesn't listen- because if he runs fast enough, maybe he can outrun the voice in his head whispering that he's failed, there's no returning from this, he'll be alone forever.

Maybe he deserves that. After all the damage he's done, Kieran probably should be alone for the rest of his life- no friends, no significant other, just football for company. At least he has that, as bittersweet of a victory as that may be. 

**********

Kieran can't help it. Every few seconds during warm-ups, his eyes lift to the stands behind the home bench to search for you. Normally you're early on matchday. 

Not today though- you don't show up until minutes before kick off, quietly taking your seat. Kieran straightens as your eyes wander to the pitch, though his efforts are wasted. You skirt right over him, your gaze landing on Aaron, a bright smile splitting your face as you wave. 

And for Kieran, what do you offer him? Nothing. Not even a crumb. Once Aaron's attention shifts to focus on securing his gloves, your own attention falls to the phone in your lap. It's as if Kieran no longer exists in your world. Although, can he really blame you for acting that way? He's been an arse at every available opportunity. Why would you want to be friendly towards him?

Unease settles in Kieran's gut. He stares at the pitch beneath his boots, trying to force the negativity out of his mind. Martin nudges him, and only then does Kieran realize the anthem has ended and he needs to haul ass across the pitch to get to his position. 

Normally, football makes everything else fade into the background. The first touch of a ball at his feet, the first collective roar from the crowd, and Kieran usually feels the tension drain from his muscles. He becomes one with his team, anticipating passes and sliding through defenders like a hot knife through butter. 

Today is a different story. Kieran drops the first pass intended for him, resulting in Chelsea's winger picking off the ball and launching downfield with it. Kieran feels off balance, the world tipping under him as he gives chase, never quite catching up. He's saved by Arsenal's back line, though it doesn't prevent him from bearing the brunt of a verbal lashing from Aaron in goal when Chelsea's attack comes much too close for his liking. 

With his focus all over the board, Kieran struggles to keep himself tidy. Their opponents sense his weakness, sniffing him out like a predator seeks prey, targeting the left side with their presses. Eventually, they know Kieran will slip. And eventually, he does- literally. 

Something white hot lances up Kieran's left leg when he plants his foot and turns to try and cut off Pulisic on the attack. A wordless cry passes his lips as he goes down, grabbing at his knee. Over the roar of blood in his ears, Kieran can hear Christian arguing with the ref against a foul; Kieran hadn't been touched by anyone in a blue shirt. The mistake was purely his. 

The ref holds up a yellow card in Christian's direction. "No fuck off- that's bullshit and you know it!" 

"It's deserved!" Kieran isn't sure which one of his teammates shouts it, but it clearly makes Christian see red. Without a second glance at Kieran on the ground, Christian storms off towards what's sure to be a fight unless someone steps in, but Kieran can't bring himself to care. 

He lays there for what feels like ages, focusing on keeping his eyes squeezed shut so no tears can escape. He will not cry, not when you're there. He's fine. He's perfectly fine. He's gonna finish out this match, he'll score a goal and then you'll understand everything. 

"Kieran, you alright mate?" 

When Kieran dares to open his eyes, he can just barely make out his captain's blonde hair between the blinding lights above the pitch and the black spots in his vision. No, he's definitely not alright. Not in any sense of the word. 

"Medical," Kieran croaks, trying to catch his breath. Everything hurts. Even his shallow breaths somehow make his knee twinge; how is that even possible? Kieran is vaguely aware of Martin as he crouches at his side, waving the medical staff on to have a look at him. 

"Right, they're on their way. What happened? No one even touched you, did they?"

"No," Kieran bites out. Fuck, why does it hurt so bad? It's worse than the time he shattered his leg at Celtic, and that was the worst pain he thought he'd ever experience. "Just spun and felt something… snap."

When two men bundled up in Arsenal puffers arrive, they immediately prod his left knee, hitting all the right spots to have hisses of pain leaving his lips. 

"We're gonna take you off," one of them tells him, "can you walk? You can if you'd like to, though we'll have to help-"

"I'm walking," Kieran states plainly. He knows nothing is broken, at least, and he refuses to be carried off while you're in the stadium. 

"I've got him. Come on, Tierney." Martin stands, holding out a hand to Kieran to help him up. The Norwegian throws an arm around Kieran's waist, not allowing Kieran to walk on his own.

The fans clap as he gets to his feet. He tries to return the sentiment but thinks better of it, wincing as he puts weight on his injured knee. Oh, he's so screwed. This feels season ending. His knee is on fire through the mask of adrenaline, and he can imagine how much worse it will be when it's worn off in a few hours. 

"Keep your head up," Martin murmurs when he stops at the sideline. "They'll fix you up in no time."

Kieran offers his captain a tight lipped smile. He appreciates the false hope, even if it does land hollow in his chest. Trainers slip under either of his arms, taking the brunt of his weight for him as he slowly makes his way down the tunnel. The entire walk, Kieran doesn't take his eyes off the pitch. His team is playing as scrambled as his insides feel, like they can't link up at all after his unexpected substitution. 

As he passes the bench, Kieran doesn't dare look up, not even when he swears he can pick out your voice calling for him. He's failed, again. He was supposed to score a banger of a goal tonight, which would give him the confidence to finally tell you what he's felt for you for months, maybe even years of his life.

The universe is laughing at him, he knows it. How pathetic would it be if he told you now? You'd think he was some miserable prick looking for your pity. That's not what he wants at all. He wants you to understand that-

"Alright Kieran, hop up on that table for me mate."

Kieran blinks, trying to remember how he got to the medical suite with no memory of walking any further than Arsenal's bench. He moves with all the grace of a wooden puppet, joints already stiff and swollen. 

The lead physician, a no frills, fifty something year old man with salt and pepper hair and the beginnings of a pot belly, adjusts his glasses on his nose and sighs. "Well Kieran, you took quite the tumble."

"Yep, how screwed am I?" 

It feels informal to be meeting with a highly accredited doctor like Dr. Montgomery while he's dressed in an Arsenal tracksuit. Shouldn't he be in a long white coat instead of a black puffer?

Regardless, the doctor carefully runs his fingers over Kieran's knee with light pressure, making notes on where it's tender and what areas are safe to touch. Based on the overall mood in the room, Kieran doubts he'll get good news.

"I'm not going to sugarcoat it for you." Dr. Montgomery takes his glasses off and sets them on the top of his head, rolling on his little stool to be closer with Kieran. "Based on the way you went down and the sort of pain you're having now, my initial assessment is a partial, if not full ACL tear."

Kieran's world slips out from under his feet. "A- what? You're sure?"

"Not yet obviously, we have to confirm it. But I'm quite confident-"

"No." Kieran shakes his head adamantly. "No, that's not right. We're supposed to win the league, I'm helping my team win the Premier League! It can't be torn-"

"Kieran, no dramatics please. You'll only make it harder on yourself. I know this is a big thing and a huge shock, but unfortunately, it may be your reality." Dr. Montgomery grips Kieran's shoulders, forcing him to take a deep breath. "You will likely need to accept it, and the sooner you do, the better it will be for your psyche and overall recovery." Dr. Montgomery pats Kieran's chest, right over his heart. 

"You're a valuable asset to this team. They're lucky to have you, and they'll need you back as soon as they can. Focus on that, on getting back and keeping your spirits up." 

"I'm damaged goods. I'm nothing to them now."

Dr. Montgomery shakes his head, understanding that Kieran needed time to process. "For now I'll get you something for the pain, and you can watch the rest of the match on my laptop while we drive you over to our proper medical office, alright? We need some scans to see just how bad the damage is."

Kieran floats above his body. He's present but he isn't, awake but asleep as he's driven across London for a set of scans and more poking and prodding. The meds keep the worst of the pain at bay, dulling the ragged edges until it's only a light throb. Each breath feels like he's inhaling shards of glass, knowing his season is over just as it peaked.

When he's finally dropped off at his flat, he checks his mobile. There's texts from a few of the boys, but he only responds to two, the first being Martin. 

We got an update from the gaffer, he says it doesn't look good… we're all pulling for you. That win was for you mate. 

Kieran's thumbs hover over the screen. He sets his phone aside and gets a pillow under his knee before responding. 

Thanks skipper. I'll be back as soon as I can

The other message he wants to reply to comes from Aaron, a short and simple let me know if you need anything.

But the one person he really wants to hear from is among the few who don't try to reach out. There's only one person who could make him feel even slightly better about the entire situation. Unfortunately for Kieran, you apparently want nothing to do with him. 

Kieran sighs, leaning his head against the sofa. The analyst on the television drones on and on about passing statistics and player form from today's match. Every ten seconds someone mentions his injury and how unfortunate it is to have come at a time when Arsenal are surely topping the tables. 

His head is a mess. He replays the moment he went down on an endless loop, seeing it from various angles thanks to the snippets playing on the television. When his knee becomes bothersome again, he does as the doctor instructed and takes another pain pill, washed down with a glass of cool water. 

At some point he must fall asleep, because he jolts awake when his phone rings. He answers it groggily, rubbing at his eyes to croak out a greeting. 

"Hello?" 

"Oh sweetheart, were you asleep? I told your father we should've waited until the morning to call."

"It's alright mum, I'm awake now." Kieran winces as he repositions himself. Turns out falling asleep sitting upright on the sofa isn't the most comfortable way to rest. "What time is it anyway?" Late, judging by how dark the city is outside his window.

"Around eight I think? Dad and I are worried sweetheart… all alone in that flat of yours- are you doing alright?"

Kieran laughs bitterly, "thanks for that reminder of my loneliness mum. Yeah I'm fine, I can take care of myself, done it before." He can barely hear his dad in the background, making some comment about him being too stubborn for his own good.

"Your father says to quit being stubborn, Kieran." Guilt washes over him when he notes the sadness in her voice. "Ask for help when you need it. I could come down for a week, until you can get around easier?"

"No- no thank you." Kieran can scarcely think of anything worse than having his mum hovering over him all hours of the day. She means well, but it would be an overload on his already strained mind.

"Well… just look after yourself Kieran. I know you'll be down on yourself but there isn't anything you could've done. Try and find a little bit of sunshine in that cloudy city, will you? Focus on that."

His mum's words don't register, going in one ear and out the other. "Sure mum, yeah. I'm knackered- I'm gonna head to bed. Thanks for checking in."

Once he's off the phone, it doesn't take long for his mind to wander. He isn't remotely tired, despite his chaotic day. He feels full of energy but has nothing to do with it other than flick through channels and scroll aimlessly on his phone. 

A photo of a sunset pops up in his Instagram feed and interestingly, his first thought is of you. Sunsets are your thing- you post them on your story almost every day. You chase them like some people chase storms: recklessly and without end, often driving to the highest point you could to catch even a glimpse of the vibrant oranges and warm reds as the sun slips below the horizon. 

Have you watched the sunset tonight? After the match, did you beg Aaron to walk you up to the boxes at the Emirates the same way you used to beg Kieran for a ride to the cliffs on the edge of your hometown? 

If you had, Kieran hopes the London sky lived up to your expectations. Then, at least, he can imagine your smile as you snap a photo to remember it by, murmuring that the lense doesn't pick up colors the same way your eyes do.

What are you doing right now?

Kieran's home alone, but you're across town in Aaron's flat, probably curled up sleeping next to him peacefully. Kieran's heart twinges, wishing you were sitting on the sofa comforting him instead. Not even in a romantic capacity- he's craving your friendship tonight, a shoulder to lean on. Someone to tell him the voice in the back of his head is lying. That he hasn't played his last game for Arsenal, that he'll come back even stronger than before. He'd do anything to hear you joke about how if he was lucky, maybe he'd be a bionic man, with a metal knee or something. 

You've always known how to lift Kieran's spirits. He checks his phone for the hundredth time, hoping to see your name in his notifications. Apparently you know how to crush them too; radio silence does the trick.

Kieran taps out a message to you, then thinks better of it. He falls asleep with his phone in his hand, the cursor blinking in the message box beneath your name. 

[bluefootedbooby]

*~ Lavender Honey ~*

*~ Chapter 3 ~*

Y/N POV

You better be fucking joking right now. Why won’t she leave me alone. Have I not made it clear I want to be left alone! But she didn’t leave me alone, of course not, she had to open her big dumb mouth.

“Y/N? I know you’re there. Can we talk?”

I wasn’t sure if I’m supposed to reply. If I said no I know she would just wait in the bathroom till I came out. I could stay here for eternity, I didn’t want to go anywhere else. I for sure didn’t want to go anywhere where SHE was.

Fuck, she’s just standing against the door. She won’t leave. Why me, why can’t she just go bother someone else like she always does! Why now does she care that her actions hurt people. Why am I upset by that?

I’m too caught up in my head I didn’t notice this creep crawl under the stall to get in. Now she was face to face with me, in such a small space. “What if I was using the bathroom, huh?! You don’t climb under the stall that’s so perverted!” But she didn’t do anything, she crossed her arms and leaned against the bathroom door. Her face looked sad, for some reason, I don’t need pity especially hers.

“Y/N, I’m just, I’m really sorry. For being a dick to you. I mean it. I don’t know why I was I just am, I’m sorry.” I wanted to be mad, to push her out the stall for what would be a shitty apology, but it wasn’t shitty it felt genuine. She actually felt bad about it, that’s what caught me off guard the most of the whole ordeal. Maybe it’s the way her words dripped with guilt, or how her eyes looked down upon me with pity, but I just wanted to spill every emotion I was feeling to her. That’s dumb, I don’t know her I thought I did but I don’t. Maybe there is more to Jinx than a bratty little bitch.

Jinx’s POV

The stall filled with tension, I didn’t know what she was gonna say, if she would say anything at all really. Only words she spoke were of anger and spite, I hope she would say something because some part of me needed her to forgive me. Maybe it’s so I can forgive myself for how shitty I am to her, to people in general. But she didn’t speak she just clenched at her skirt with her head lowered and her eyes piercing up at me.

“You also left this in the supply closet.”

Her eyes lit up and her posture snapped straight in an instant as I pulled the satchel out. Her face contorted to an expression of guilt and sorrow, I wish I could know what was going on in her head, what this bag meant, I want to know more about you Y/N.

“Thanks.” She mustered out before grabbing the satchel and looking at the contents. “I didn’t take anything if that’s what you’re worried about.” My hand rubbing my forearm hoping for her to speak more, I longed to hear her speak something that wasn’t anger at me because of my own actions.

And she did,

“Why are you so rude to people?” Her question possessed no anger, no spite, just pure empathy and compassion, curiosity. I didn’t know why, maybe a hunch but I can’t tell. “I don’t know, I think I just always seek others attention cause at home i’m just the screw up.”

She didn’t something so amazing, so pure and beautiful. She laughed and smiled. She stared up at me and spoke, I wish I could replay her words in my head whenever I want.

“You’re not a screw up, if you were I don’t think you would be going through this much length to make sure I’m ok.” Her nails tapped at the glass honey jar. She stared down at it and smiled before smiling at me again and speaking. “I feel the same way if I’m honest, my home isn’t the best either.”

I want her to tell me more, I hang on each word so carefully to not miss a single sound that comes from her lips. Why did I hurt you, maybe I should thank the fact I did because otherwise I wouldn’t have this moment. I want her to tell me more, please tell me more.

But she doesn’t, a kid from our class walks in to find us. “Jinx? Y/N? Are you two in here?” We both are nervous, I don’t think either of us want to stop this conversation, I sure don’t. Y/N moves her feet on the toilet rim to hide her legs a I attempt to squeeze myself next to her. She seems too worried they will catch us, even though we aren’t doing anything bad, together in the stall. But I can’t pay attention to that, I can only look at her. How she bit her lip when the girl walked closer to the stall, how her eyes darted around towards the floor, and how her breasts pressed together against her knees— No! No, fuck, Jinx focus! She looked so beautiful, I barely know her but I feel like I’ve spent forever with her.

The girl leaves finally, thank god, and we both step down. It’s awkward for a moment but impulsively I just speak. “Do you want to hang out at my place this weekend, or I guess after school cause today is Friday.” I bite my nails and wait for her to reply. “Haha, yeah, I’d like that. Let me call my mom and ask.” So she does and something about the way she spoke when speaking to someone else was just pleasing. “Hey Mom, sorry for the late notice but A girl in my physics class asked me to help tutor her after school. She wants me to help her all weekend and since you and David are going to be away for the weekend would it be ok if I spend the time helping her since I’m caught up in all my classes.”

I almost dropped my jaw, she lied so seamlessly that even I thought I had asked for her to tutor me. She hung up and smiled. “My mom said yes!” She tapped her feet excitedly on the ground, it was really cute. I smiled back and just stared at her everything she did was beautiful even down to just scratching and itch on her elbow.

We left the stall but stood around in the bathroom until the bell rang. I wanted to just skip the next class entirely and be with her but I doubt she would. “So, what class do you have next?” I leaned against the marble sinks and stared at her. She took a moment to think about what the schedule was today. “I think I have art!” She smiled and seemed giddy about it. “Do you like that class?” Her head nodded frantically as she flapped her hands in excitement. It was really cute. “Me too! I like drawing a lot I mea I’m not great with tradition art styles but I like painting wacky stuff and use lots of colors.” She giggled a bit and smirked. “Yeah I saw that giant monkey you did on the building last year. It looked really cool actually a shame they cleaned it up.” She crossed her arms and leaned against the sink too. I brushed the bangs from my face and smiled. “Thanks, I saw your doodles in the supply room, they’re really good.”

Her body perked up and then sunk into her smile slightly separating her lips to show her teeth. I love her smile. “Thank you, Jinx.” I wanted to leap out and hug her, just feel her, hold her hand or touch her arm something. And instinctively I did. “No problem!” I lightly put my hand on top her hand and she looked at it. Her eyebrows going up and widening her eyes and her smiling dropping slightly. Oh no, was that weird? What is she thinking? Do I let go? No that’ll make it worse! But I can’t do anything because the excruciating noise of the bell pierces my ears like an arrow in the head. I fucking hate the bell.

“Thanks for this, I really appreciate it.” She glides her hand off mine and picks up her bag to leave. “I’ll meet you by the flagpole after school if that’s good?” “Yeah! Yeah, that sounds fine!” Gosh I hope I didn’t sound desperate that was gross.. But she smiles at leaves. I don’t follow her I just stand there and look at my hand taking it to my cheek and smiling. What am I feeling? I barely know this girl but I really want to hang out with her all time. I want to hug her and tell her my deepest secrets. Maybe it’s cause she’s the only person who ever really spoke to me like a person rather than someone they’re intimated by or someone they look down upon. I felt normal with her like an average teen girl with an average teen friend. But she wasn’t average she was so much more.

I think I might be crushing on Y/N.

Once again thank you guys so much for reading!! I really appreciate it :)

[urplepurplegurgleturgle]

Since everyone else has an intro post, I might as well have one too.

(OLD BLOG INTRO! I'M NOW MUTANT MAYHEM DONNIE!)

Hello, I am freshtrash44, but you may call me Trashi, Ash, or Asher (whichever suits you best). I use He/Him pronouns.

I am an autistic Korean teenager who is struggling to pass high school... but that isn't very important. What is important are my interests, and what I draw!

As I stated, it is evident that I am an artist. I enjoy drawing both Splatoon and Rise of the TMNT. However, since my ROTTMNT obsession is much more recent, you'll be seeing much more turtle content than squid content. That doesn't mean I have no interest in the silly squid game, though! Feel free to ask me any questions about either topics.

I have a very inconsistent posting schedule due to school, my inability to stay focused, and shoulder/back pain because I have horrible posture. However, these are the times I am generally active:

PDT Timezone

Sat-Sun: 8 am to 11 pm. So all day, basically.

Mon and Fri: 3:30 pm to 11 pm.

Tues-Thurs: 4:50 pm to 11 pm.

Also important!! (This time, it kinda is. I think.)

I'm currently in the makings of a ROTTMNT AU! It is called the Post-Krang AU (creative name, I know).

As the name implies, the events take place after the Kraang invasion. At this point in time, the Hamato family are accepted as heroes by New York, and the Mad Dogs are able to go to a normal, human high school!

It's sort of like the ending of Mutant Mayhem. The Hamatos are able to roam around the upside freely, without worry of being rejected. And much to Donnie's delight, they are also able to go to school and get educated! Thus, Raph, Leo, Donnie, and Mikey all go to school like normal teens. They can make human friends (who aren't April, Cass, and CJ. Oh, yeah, those three go to the same high school as the TMNT, too). They still fight crime, of course, but they're able to do so without the fear of being discovered.

I've seen many, and I mean MANY angsty AUs. While I'm a sucker for angst, I wanted to try something different. While the PKau still has a good amount of angst moments (courtesy of trauma), it's generally very wholesome and heart-warming. There isn't really a set storyline, either. Just the four turtles going to school and being normal teens for once.

I will be posting art about this AU, but as I said earlier, my posting schedule is very, very (and that's two verys) inconsistent, so please bear with me!

Boundaries and other things! Because those are important too!

Tcest, incest, and proshippers DNI

I make suggestive jokes (I'm a teen. What dost thou expect of me), but I won't be drawing NFSW, nor will I accept me or other minors being sexualized. We are not child molesters.

I don't care about what you headcanon my sexuality as (I know what I am), but I would like to be strictly referred to as He/Him.

Please be nice! I'm not exactly the best at wording things (tone indicators save my life), but I will never, EVER be mean to someone on purpose (unless they deserve it. Then I'll go ham). While interacting on my blog, please refrain from being toxic. Some thoughts are better left to yourself

NO STEALING MY ART!! I don't know why you'd want to steal it in the first place (it sucks ass), but don't do it anyways. You can use it as long as you give credit.

I don't do commissions, but I take requests! If I see something in my ask box I like, I'll draw it. So, if you have any ideas, feel free to share them! I like having motivation boosters.

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Aaaand that's about it! Thanks for reading all of this, it was... a lot. I appreciate anyone who takes to time to look at my shitty art and read my even shittier posts. Y'all are awesome!

[doctormage]

sorry i need to complain rly quick

ok so i went to the derby thing monday and in a nutshell it was awful solely bc i literally could not stay upright on my skates. im a severe asthmatic so i have to take albuterol before exercise and sometimes it makes me shaky, but this time my legs were like, completely and genuinely useless

everyone there was SO nice and only cared that i didnt hurt myself but im still really fucking embarrassed bc like. i make a point to exercise my legs every single day. at bare minimum i do squats and calf raises EVERY SINGLE DAY and have been for MONTHS bc of physical therapy. those two exercises particularly help keep my ankle and foot mobile so i make sure to do them, at least 30 of each, DAILY!!!!!!!!! my quads are fucking great!!!!!

so im like. alright. very cool and normal that the medication thats supposed to help me breathe is preventing me from even skating 3 feet in any direction, also very cool and awesome that people are gonna think its bc i have zero lower body strength (when in fact that is the ONLY place i have any strength!) bc my legs are like jello rn

(on top of this i was just so anxious and awkward and all this immediately brought up countless childhood memories of my gym teachers openly bullying me in front of my entire class bc i - severe asthmatic who was even worse as a child - wasn't going "fast enough" or "trying hard enough" or whatever. and also generally like the shittiness of not being able to play w your friends or whatever as a kid bc your lungs dont fucking work. so the frustration over this one thing just opened a can of worms that had been marinating for the last 26 years of my life)

(additionally i have placed a LOT on this mentally bc it's my attempt at like cultivating a hobby that involves other people and forcing myself to make friends that live in the same city as me. i've wanted to do this for over a YEAR, i was so excited after i got cleared by my physical therapist, and i also had a cold last week and was frantically doing everything i could to be better again before monday so it was just!!! a lot!!!) (i was better btw and not contagious. still wore a mask to the rink in case i coughed rly gross or smth tho)

i also thought maybe its bc my knees hyperextend REALLY really bad just like in my normal posture so my center of gravity is always all fucked. so on top of my shaky ass legs im trying to combat the entire way my body holds itself and has ALWAYS held itself, while attempting to maintain balance on wheels, and not default to What I Literally Always Do Subconsciously Because That's How My Legs Work. anyway

yesterday it was rainy so i couldnt skate but today i put my skates on and im like. completely fucking fine. not trembling at all, totally capable of remaining upright, maintaining proper form, skating around, everything, even with my fucked up backwards knees. what the hell and fuck

on monday i'd borrowed skates from the rink bc i didnt want to be the only one in new-looking non-derby skates (which i wouldnt have been anyway) so i guess it could be because their skates didnt really fit me right or they're flat and my skates have a heel but like????? why???????? why am i fine now ???????????????????

we have practice again tomorrow and i will ABSOLUTELY be wearing my own skates idgaf how stupid they look i am not putting myself in that position again. i NEED people to know i have functional legs ;_;

[tornsurvivors]

"I learned that mythic creatures and immortality exists ever since I died the first time, but what the fuck was THAT?" Isabel cried out incredulously, heartbeats still POUNDING like hell from the latest encounter they had with a violator-- or rather, violators of humanity. She was breathing hard, wide blue eyes staring at Andy and one of her hands pointing in the general direction where they came from.

It was making her sick to her stomach... the stench of death. The creatures materializing from mists of shadow, they reeked of it. The menacing glow in hollow eyes were going to stick with her for a long time. Though that wasn't the worst part of it.

Andy's response wasn't what Isabel wanted to see. It's the look of deep concern, instead of the calm and rational posture because she's the oldest immortal who had seen everything. The immortal who could offer reassurance and a solution. "It's the first I've seen something like that."

Isabel was an unique immortal -- she developed an ability after her first death. The ability to see spirits all the time, even if there was no intention to show themselves to the living. It was like having the veil between the living and dead ripped right out of it's place. But oh, that still wasn't the worst of it.

It was sudden, another wave of dizziness crashing over her and she stumbled to the side, jaw clenching as she grew violently nauseous. She could still hear the echoes of their screams ringing loudly and taking a severe toll on her emotionally. It wasn't anything like the demon she encountered in the shanghai tunnels.

That ability also came with a hefty price. It takes a little chunk of her every time, in the sense of where she is forced to witness their last moments before their deaths, and after. To hear and feel what they had right before they died. Suffocating terror and unlike them, she doesn't die. She's left with the effects for weeks. Nightmares plague her mind and the danger of it is they could potentially make her numb to humanity. The more it happens, the more she is in danger of going mad.

"But I know someone who will probably know." It wasn't much, but still just enough reason for Isabel to fight harder for the sake of her sanity.

"Off to Switzerland, we go."

Seeing their deaths... what they were murdered by, it was only something that could be described straight out of a nightmare from hell.

~ * * * ~

Not even the breathtaking scenery of Switzerland could distract her, nor could it compare to the immortal Andy introduced her to. The rich energy she felt in the atmosphere was nothing like she had ever encountered. Werewolves were different. Isabel was mesmerized by the glow of sigils that seemed to be burned into her flesh along the sides of her face and the woman's eyes -- they gave an almost unearthly glow of blue.

"Here." Andy simply responded to the mysterious immortal, handing off her phone. Isabel was baffled at how little the woman reacted to the captured footage from Andy's body cam, not one bit horrified. However, she did catch the concern flashing across the immortal's features.

"It can't be." The woman murmured and sighed deeply, returning the phone to it's owner. Her attention flicked back to Isabel then, making the taller woman shift somewhat nervously under her scrutinizing stare.

"Your energy... it's rather unique too, Isabel. I'm sure you probably have a thousand questions, so let me save us the time. My name is Jaina, and I come from an entirely different world from yours. Apparently I was one of the chosen few to contain the evil that may leak from damaged timelines, which is pretty shitty of fate, huh?" That little scoffing chuckle at the end told Isabel that Jaina still retained a sense of humor and strangely enough, it gave her comfort.

She still couldn't help but watch as Jaina pulled back the hood of her shirt and nearly inhaled sharply. Her hair was as white as the snow, but she noted a small streak of blonde. Though what had her attention the most was how the bluish-purple glowing sigils appeared to continue down the immortal's neck. She wondered if Jaina's body was covered in it.

Must be one hell of a tale to share.

"This... however, is something we cannot ignore. If my assumptions are correct, another Lich King - or Queen is likely to rise if they manage to find all the pieces of a weapon that cannot be brought into this world."

Isabel swallowed and breathed out shakily, steeling through the lingering effects of the brutalized souls. Before she could even open her mouth to ask another question... Jaina finished for her.

"It's not your typical terrorist crap. We're talking apocalypse-tier here."

[ possibly a TBC... ]