in the hour or so it took me to draw this op turned reblogs off
EDIT: reblogs are STAYING OFF. op was right and correct and i have never regretted making a post as much as this one. if you want to reblog my art you can reblog something else from my blog. or commission me, lord knows i deserve financial compensation for the nightmare this post has put me through
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taking all my american followers by the shoulders. listen to me. just because you have a more promising candidate now doesn't mean you just assume it's going to be fine and don't bother voting. assuming trump wasn't going to win is how you got here in the first place so you go out and fucking vote for harris and give everyone a fighting chance.
also if you're still in the 'they're both as bad as eachother' delirium, please take your head out from between your cheeks and consider that your options are an imperfect president and the literal worst person alive who is going to get masses of people killed. i've said it like this before, but it's like deciding between maybe getting food poisoning or definitely having a brain aneurysm. take your pick i guess but don't be surprised when you drop dead.
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something bad happened to you, and you died, and you came back wrong.
not wrong all the way. the little ways. you forget important dates, stopped going out with friends. it's harder to make you smile. you're apathetic towards things you used to love, afraid of places you used to go to cheer up. quieter. flinching. different.
you came back for love. you're still here for love. what pulled you back was a brightness so loud that even death couldn't outshout it. death heard the call and smiled at you and said okay. go home. somebody is waiting for you.
but you came back different. like lot's wife; you've turned into salt. you used to chirp through life in hops and skips; but now you lose skin just standing up. you have to move slower, skimming across this world without-touching-it. most things feel dull - until they're suddenly all-too-much. life, and being alive just rushes up and over you and you get hopelessly crushed.
you try to explain it to them: it is ugly, but this is what you are, now. the huge golden hoop of your halo now a little bronze ring. you are still watering your plants and wearing the same clothes. after all, you worked hard to come home. this life; so odd and off-color, now that you are wrong.
but they waited for you - it's just that they wanted the "you" that happened before this. the "you" that could sing in the show and hug people tight and look at a blade without breaking down to cry. the you with a smile in pictures. god, holyshit, it's like looking at a completely different person, isn't it. that other-you; the one they actually wanted.
you are the consolation prize. you are the body that forgot the ghost. you are the memory of the bad thing, and the death after; like you are wearing that memory as a banner. you are a fragment, an assembly. simulacrum. you don't make eye contact in mirrors, afraid the light will glance off and your true nature will flash back at you.
you hear them talk about it in their hushed, desperate whispers. sometimes they even admit it to your face; harsh and violent, acid thrown at christmas dinner. god, can you just fucking be normal again. you do not remember what normal is. you had to climb so far to get back here; you are far too exhausted. you want to open the glass door of your heart and show all the gears. can you help resolve whatever got messed up?
you try so, so hard. you came back for them. because you believed they would love you, even when you were so horribly broken. because you believed they would be patient. because you believed unconditional meant "without exception." you cannot do things the same way. you just get tired too quickly these days.
you want to put them on a couch and pour them the tea with hands that shake more than they remember. you want to line them up and draw them a map of where you have had to wander. you want to show every bruise in a backsplash; the little helpless ant of your soul carrying all that weight, over and over. you want to say: yes! it is different! but i did it for love!
you want to say: "i'm not the same, but i'm yours and i'm here. can that be enough?"
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Mmm, thinking about Ghost going on a date with reader after not having been in a proper relationship in years
He was never one for hookups, and he could never keep long-term relationships. Most lasted about a month at most before he backed out.
Fast forward to now, he's been invited out by you. He figures it'll be like most other dates, a quick dinner at a noisy restaurant before he gets overwhelmed and leaves.
To his surprise, it isn't. You kept his comfort in mind and suggested a walk by the bay instead.
When he walks beside you in silence, you don't seem to take offense. In fact, you don't seem to mind at all. You fill in his silence with easy conversation, keeping it focused on you and not trying to pry into his personal life.
You don't hesitate when he responds with one word answers, instead taking the opportunity to discuss an interest of your own. By the time it's long past dark out, you offer to take him home, apologizing for not acknowledging the time sooner. He didn't want to stop listening to your voice
When he declines your offer, you smile. You tell him to stay safe, to rest well, and to text you when he gets home.
At his apartment, he can't stop thinking about you. About how polite and kind you were. About how you actually cared about his feelings, how you weren't off put by him.
He glances at his phone.
You receive a text at 1 in the morning. A simple 'Back safe.'
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Yaz: why do you have a braclet that says "WWDD"?
13: oh! It stands for "what would Donna do?"
Yaz:...
Yaz: who the fuck is Donna??
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Two takes.
That's all they had to get this right
But that's all they needed.
Rolin was right.
There is something really heavy in this scene.
Sam and Jacob have spent three years carrying these characters inside themselves. Hundred of late nights and dawns together (on and off set). Conversations, debates, meals shared, laughter and probably tears too.It's clearly been a journey for them, not just their characters.
But there's something else happening here too.
Eric saw it. He watched these actors go places others won't (or can't). Something challenging and authentic.
Even Eric (a veteran actor of 50+ years) said he's never been on a show like this, never pushed himself so far outside his comfort zone. But for this show, he's happy to do it because he knows he can trust them.
Eric nailed it when he spoke about the importance of trust and engaging with genuine emotions for both Jacob and Sam:
Jacob talks about Sam the same way,
This is why this feels so real.
Because it's true when Sam says:
And Jacob was only half joking when he said:
It's their complete trust in each other. It's their willingness to engage truthfully with painful emotions.
Shared grief and shared sorrow hurts, and Jacob and Sam aren't holding anything back. They feel safe going to places that are deeply painful and hard. Ugly and nasty. Full of regret and remorse. And genuine love.
This is why it feels so truthful in that moment.
This is why they only needed two takes.
.
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