#but ive done two this year so post cancelled

[kirakuinbaitzadasuto]

birthday...

[musicforastylesrestaurant]

Hi! I don't know if you already have an idea for the birthday post, if you do feel free to ignore this...my favourite trope is dad!harry too...what if H has to go for an emergency meeting somewhere else out the country even before his birthday and he has to spend his birthday there too and he is bummed about it...the fmc can fly out with their daughter/son and when he is back from his meeting his room is all decorated and stuff and she tells him she asked jeff to cancel everything...and they do a bunch of fun stuff but at night, after dinner she and the baby surprise him with another baby or something and he is like best birthday ever, 30 is already amazing

Happy 30th Birthday, Baby.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

authors note - thank you so much to @missbearforfun for sending in this request, ive had had a fun time writing this, ive changed a few things up, so i hope that ive done it justice.

i can’t believe that my boy is 30….like i swear he was just auditioning for the x-factor yesterday. 🥹

word count - 4.4k

in which, harry gets called to do a meeting in italy, two days before his birthday, which means that he’ll be spending his 30th out there with just his manager jeff, what he doesn’t realise is that you, his darling wife, fly out to surprise him and hopefully give him the best birthday he’s ever had.

You’ve been in Harry’s life for just over ten years.

You’ve spent five of those years as boyfriend and girlfriend, two of those years as his fiancé, and now, this year will be leading up to the third year being each other's husband and wife.

The first birthday of his that you spent with him, was his 20th all the way back in 2014. He had organised an intimate get together at a restaurant full of all of his closest family and friends, and it was the first time that you would be turning up together, as an official couple seeing as the only people who knew about the two of you were his band mates and his mother,sister, father and step father.

It was also the night that he confessed to you that he loved you, and that you were the one person that he couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with.

From that moment on, every birthday became a cherished chapter in your shared history.

Waking up in each other's arms has become a comforting tradition, marking the beginning of a day dedicated solely to celebrating Harry's existence. The warmth of those morning embraces symbolises the depth of your connection, a connection that has withstood the tests of time.

As the years unfolded, you've witnessed the evolution of Harry, both in age and character, yet the love between you two has remained unwavering.

From his 21st to his 30th birthday, you've made it a point to spend the day in a way that brings him joy. Whether it's exploring new places, indulging in his favourite activities, or simply relaxing together, the focus has always been on creating memories that reflect the essence of Harry.

Each birthday has become a canvas on which you paint moments of happiness and shared experiences.

You had spent every birthday with him, but for this one, it appeared to already be turning out in a way neither of you had expected.

A mere few days before Harry's anticipated birthday, an unexpected call from his manager, Jeff, sent ripples of disappointment through his plans. The urgency of an issue related to his beauty brand, Pleasing, required Harry's immediate attention in the Italy.

The brand we’re thinking of opening a pop-up shop over there, seeing as the country held so much adoration in both of your hearts, it was the place where you got married, the place where he proposed and where he now wanted his fans over there to have access to him and what he had to offer.

With flights already booked, he faced the heart-wrenching reality of having to leave just over two days before his special day. Devastation etched across his face as he contemplated the unforeseen disruption to the birthday celebration he had eagerly anticipated.

In a desperate attempt to reason with Jeff, Harry explained his deep desire to spend his birthday with you, sharing the disappointment that overshadowed the joy of the impending celebration.

However, the urgency of the matter prevailed, leaving Harry torn between personal desires and professional obligations. As his best mate and manager, Jeff empathised with Harry but emphasised the gravity of the situation, reinforcing the necessity of this unexpected journey.

Amidst the disappointment, you stepped in to comfort Harry, assuring him that celebrations could be postponed but his presence and well-being mattered most. You offered solace, reminding him that distance could not diminish the love and connection you shared.

The promise of a belated but equally meaningful celebration upon his return brought a glimmer of hope to the gloom that hung over his imminent departure.

You had promised him, that you would FaceTime him on his actual birthday and that you would both order the same takeaway that night and have a little over the phone date, just to celebrate this big milestone.

On the morning Harry was set to depart for Italy, the anticipation of his journey hung in the air. Dressed for travel, he stood before you with a small suitcase by the door.

Shoes on, cap snug, and sunglasses concealing his eyes, he exuded a mix of excitement and reluctance. Despite the January chill in London, the promise of Italy's warmth upon landing prompted him to prepare for a contrasting climate.

Your eyes held a silent plea as you stood before him, sorrow evident in your gaze.

"I wish I didn't have t’go," Harry admitted, his voice tinged with regret.

You nodded, understanding the weight of the situation, your silence echoing the unspoken emotions in the room.

Milo, your ten-month-old Rottweiler puppy, sensed the sombre atmosphere, wagging his tail as if trying to infuse joy into the moment.

Unable to contain your emotions, you wrapped your arms around Harry in a tight hug.

"I'll miss you so much," you whispered, your voice betraying the ache within. Harry's embrace tightened, and he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"I'll miss y’more, m’love," he murmured, the sincerity in his words resonating with the depth of his emotions.

Crouching down to pet Milo, Harry spoke to the pup with a soft smile, "Take care of mummy for me, little buddy."

Milo responded with excited barks, seemingly understanding the impending absence.

Standing up, Harry looked into your eyes, his own reflecting a mixture of love and longing.

Your gaze locked with his, finding solace in the promise of a future reunion.

"We'll have the most amazing belated birthday celebration," you said, trying to inject positivity into the moment.

Harry smiled, his eyes reflecting gratitude.

"I can't wait f’that. Until then, stay strong f’me," he said, pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

As the door closed behind him, the echo of his departure resonated through the silent space. Left with the imprint of his touch, the memory of his presence, and the anticipation of his return, you and Milo faced a home that suddenly felt emptier without him.

"I'll make sure t’send y’pictures from Italy," Harry called out from the hallway.

"And don't forget to spoil Milo a bit extra for me!" he added with a playful grin, the reassurance in his voice providing a small comfort amid the impending distance.

The day of his actual birthday, you woke up at seven am, which meant it was eight am for Harry.

It was a nice early face time call, in which you had called someone from the town near your shared beach house and got them to deliver flowers so they we’re scheduled to arrive whilst the two of you were calling, so you could see his face when he received them.

Little did he know, as the virtual celebration concluded, that you were already en route to Italy to surprise the love of your life.

His manager, Jeff, had orchestrated the clandestine journey, booking a flight that not only allowed your presence but accommodated Milo, your loyal puppy companion.

On the fairly empty flight, with just a few scattered passengers, you found solace in the quiet journey across the skies. Milo, nestled on the seat next to you, peacefully dozed off, completely unaware of the grand surprise awaiting his owner.

The hum of the plane engines provided a soothing backdrop as you envisioned the joy that would light up Harry's face when you appeared unexpectedly in celebration of his special day.

Upon landing in Italy, you and Milo were swiftly escorted off the plane by a discreet security team. The importance of maintaining the surprise for Harry became evident as the team efficiently navigated through the airport. The mission was clear: to whisk you away from the public eye, avoiding any chance of word spreading that Harry's wife had arrived.

Passing through passport control with just a carry-on bag in tow, the security team ensured a seamless transition. The anticipation heightened as you and Milo moved through the airport, surrounded by the subtle hum of secrecy. Every step taken was a careful manoeuvre to preserve the surprise and shield the unfolding celebration from prying eyes.

Exiting the airport, you were guided to a waiting jeep. The security team orchestrated a smooth transition, knowing that time was of the essence.

Jeff:

H just left for a meeting, so you’ve got at least an hour to get everything ready !!

As the jeep sped toward the villa, Jeff's text notification illuminated your phone screen. His message revealed that Harry was currently engrossed in a meeting, providing a valuable window of time to set up a birthday surprise.

The prospect of transforming the house into a beautiful haven of celebration filled you with excitement. Knowing you had at least an hour before Harry's return heightened the anticipation, and thoughts of his surprised expression fueled your determination.

The journey continued through the picturesque landscapes of Italy, the half-hour drive feeling like both an eternity and a heartbeat away from reuniting with Harry. Milo, sensing the energy, shifted restlessly in anticipation, adding an extra layer of warmth to the already charged atmosphere within the jeep.

The realization that the culmination of meticulous planning was drawing near only fueled your eagerness.

The mere thought of seeing Harry after two days of separation fueled your determination to make this surprise an unforgettable celebration of love and connection. The countdown to the reunion had begun.

"Here we are," the driver announced as the jeep came to a stop in front of the villa. You thanked him and handed over a ten-euro tip, expressing gratitude for the swift and discreet journey.

Grabbing Milo's leash and your bag, you stepped out into the Italian air, the scent of anticipation mingling with the promise of celebration.

As you approached the door, the distinct aroma of Harry's aftershave enveloped you, confirming his recent presence. A pair of his white vans neatly placed by the entrance hinted at the intimate details of his daily routine.

With a smile, you inserted the key into the lock, unlocking the door to a space filled with the essence of the man you dearly missed.

"Milo, we're home," you murmured to your furry companion, who eagerly bounded into the living room.

The atmosphere inside resonated with familiarity, and Milo, seemingly aware of the joyous occasion, leaped onto the sofa, his tail wagging in sync with the pulsating excitement in the air.

Upon stepping into the villa, you wasted no time. The suitcase that accompanied you served as a treasure trove of celebratory delights. With swift precision, you unzipped it, revealing an inflatable 3 and 0, along with vibrant banners that spelled out "Happy Birthday."

The living room became a canvas for your creativity, and the decorations unfolded in a dance of colors and joy.

Inflating the giant numbers, you strategically placed them to catch Harry's eye the moment he entered. The banners crisscrossed the room, creating a vibrant tapestry of celebration. The atmosphere transformed with each decoration, turning the space into a haven of love and festivity.

The decorating didn’t take long, maybe around half an hour, so that left you waiting, and each minute felt like hell.

You so badly just wanted him in your arms.

Seated in the midst of the festive setup, you pulled out your phone, eager to share the news of your safe arrival with your family. Fingers danced across the screen as you texted messages of reassurance and excitement, capturing the essence of this special moment.

The living room, now a symphony of color and joy, served as the backdrop to your messages, each tap echoing the anticipation of the grand birthday surprise awaiting Harry.

As you sat in the living room, engrossed in your phone, the jingling of keys outside signaled Harry's arrival. Swiftly, you rose from your seat, Milo by your side, his tail wagging in silent excitement.

Attempting to be as quiet as possible, you made your way to the entry hall, your heart pounding with anticipation. The festive atmosphere of the decorated living room served as a backdrop to the impending surprise.

Harry entered, shutting the door behind him with a sense of routine. His tote bag dropped to the floor, and in his initial distraction, he failed to notice the pair of women's shoes by the entrance.

His gaze scanned the surroundings briefly before turning away, only to snap back with wide eyes when he caught sight of you standing there.

His mouth parted in shock, a mixture of disbelief and joy washing over his face.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment as Harry processed the unexpected presence before him. The shock gave way to a radiant smile, his eyes lighting up with genuine happiness. Milo's tail wagged furiously, mirroring the palpable joy in the room.

Harry's initial shock dissolved into pure joy as he stared at you standing in the entry hall. Without a moment's hesitation, he rushed over, gathering you into a tight embrace. The warmth of his arms enveloped you, an unspoken reassurance of the love that bridged the distance between you two. Your eyes welled up with tears, mirroring the emotion evident in his gaze.

"Happy birthday," you whispered, the words carrying the weight of your love and the joy of this surprise.

As Harry lifted his head, his lips sought yours in a cascade of affectionate kisses. Each press was a testament to the depth of the connection shared, a celebration of love that transcended the days of separation.

The room, filled with decorations and the silent witness of Milo, became a sanctuary for this spontaneous reunion.

In the midst of the kisses, Harry's laughter bubbled up, the sheer delight of the unexpected surprise washing over him.

"M’can't believe you're here," he admitted, his eyes sparkling with gratitude. Milo, sensing the joy, wagged his tail energetically, completing the tableau of love and celebration.

“I couldn't not see you on your birthday," you admitted with a warm smile, still wrapped in Harry's embrace.

"Milo missed his daddy so much that we had to come and surprise you." You winked playfully, a cheeky smile tugging at your lips. "And, well, maybe I missed you a bit too."

Harry's eyes lit up with a mixture of surprise and delight.

"Y’really came all the way here just for me?" he asked, his voice filled with gratitude. Milo, sensing the joy in the room, barked in agreement, tail wagging enthusiastically.

Cupping his face in your hands, you responded, "Absolutely. Birthdays are meant to be celebrated with the ones you love, and we couldn't let a few miles keep us apart, now could we?"

“But I’ve got meetings the entire day,”he pouted, head getting thrown back slightly. “But I wanna spend the entire day with you.”

You played with the peach fuzz at the back of his neck. “Well it’s a good job I’ve cleared your schedule then, huh?”

“Wait,”he snapped his head over to yours from where he was staring lovingly at Milo. “So I’ve got the whole day with you?”

“We’ve got the whole day together, baby.” You confirmed, watching as his dimples appeared on his face.

In need of a refreshment, you and Harry migrated to the kitchen. As he poured himself an ice-cold glass of water, you settled at the kitchen island, nibbling on a cracker slathered with butter.

Looking at Harry, you asked, "Any cravings for today?"

He grinned and replied, "Actually, I've been craving a nice stroll around the town with Milo. Maybe we can stop for some ice cream and, perhaps, a cheeky bottle of rouge."

Harry's eyes sparkled with the prospect of a leisurely day. He reached for your hand, fingers intertwining, and continued, "What do you think, love?"

You offered a small smile, well aware that your current circumstances limited certain indulgences. "Sounds lovely," you responded, playing with the cross necklace around his neck. "I'm up for a walk and some ice cream.”

The wine….not so much.

/ /

As the day wore on, bathed in the warm glow of the Italian sun, you changed into a pair of comfortable denim shorts and one of Harry's shirts, embracing the casual charm of the town. The borrowed shirt hung loosely on your frame, carrying the familiar scent that provided a comforting connection to Harry.

Together, hand in hand, you and Harry strolled along the old streets, a timeless backdrop for the unfolding birthday celebration.

Milo, ever the enthusiastic companion, trotted alongside, his leash held firmly in Harry's hand. The cobbled streets echoed with the gentle sounds of your footsteps, creating a serene melody as you explored the charming corners of the town.

The quaint architecture and rustic charm of the surroundings added a picturesque touch to the shared moments of the day.

The narrow alleyways led you to hidden gems and inviting cafés, where the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sweet treats filled the air.

Each step carried with it the promise of discovery and the joy of simply being together. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting a warm hue over the town, and the leisurely pace of the day allowed you to savor the simple pleasures of the moment.

As you continued your leisurely walk through the charming streets of Italy, Milo suddenly stopped in his tracks, his nose diligently sniffing around the ground. With an amused grin, you watched as he searched for just the right spot to do his business.

After a moment of consideration, Milo found the perfect place, and you turned to Harry with a playful expression.

"Happy birthday to you," you teased, handing Harry the poo bag with a grin. He laughed and fake gagged, taking the bag with a theatrical expression of horror.

Milo, seemingly oblivious to the lighthearted banter, continued with his canine duties, contributing his unique birthday gift to the day's events.

Continuing your walk through the enchanting town, you and Harry engaged in easy conversation, the cadence of laughter punctuating the air. The narrow streets echoed with the shared joy of the day, every step deepening the connection between you two. Silly anecdotes and playful banter flowed freely, turning the casual stroll into a delightful journey of shared moments.

As you meandered through the old streets, each corner unveiled new surprises, and every twist and turn became an opportunity for discovery. The simple act of being together, immersed in the charm of the surroundings, fueled the laughter and strengthened the bond between you and Harry.

As you continued your stroll through the charming town, the sight of a small bistro with a quaint outdoor seating area caught Harry's eye.

"How about we grab a bite there? it looks like a nice spot," he suggested, nodding toward the bistro. You agreed with a smile, appreciating the thought of a cozy meal in such a picturesque setting.

Heading towards the entrance, you were met by a friendly waiter.

"How can I help you?" he inquired. Harry responded,

"Just a table outside, please." The waiter, with a welcoming smile, gestured for you to follow, leading you to a charming table nestled in the outdoor seating area. The sun cast a warm glow, creating an inviting ambiance for a leisurely meal.

Seated at the quaint table, Milo by your side, the waiter handed you the menus. "Browse through these, a waiter will be over shortly, and let me know if there's anything else you need," he offered before leaving you to peruse the options. The aroma of delectable dishes wafted through the air, enhancing the anticipation of a delightful meal in the heart of the town.

Harry, glancing at the menu, looked up at you with a playful grin.

"What are you in the mood for, m’love?" he asked.

You.

Wait what?

As you and Harry enjoyed the cozy atmosphere of the bistro, another waiter, a friendly woman with a welcoming smile, approached your table.

"Good evening! Do you know what you'd like to order?" she inquired, pen poised above her notepad.

Harry, ever decisive, was the first to respond.

"I'll have a glass of y’house red wine, please," he said, glancing at the wine list.

Turning to you, the waiter asked, "And for you, ma'am?"

You flashed a smile and softly shook your head.

"I'll just go for a fresh lemonade, please." Attempting to steer away any suspicion, you added, "Feeling like something light today."

Harry, catching the cue, chimed in, "Just a light and easygoing evening, you know?"

He winked at you, his eyes filled with playful complicity.

The waiter jotted down your drink orders and nodded. "Certainly, a glass of red wine and a fresh lemonade. Now, what can I get for your main courses?"

You perused the menu, deciding on a chicken salad, and Harry opted for the salmon antipasto. You exchanged glances, sharing a silent agreement on the choices. As the waiter collected your menu choices, she remarked,

"Excellent choices! Your orders will be out shortly. Enjoy your evening!"

With the waiter's departure, Harry leaned in with a teasing grin.

"A fresh lemonade, m’love? Feeling like a saint today, are we?" he quipped, his playful banter laced with affection.

You chuckled, playing along. "Well, saints need a refreshing drink too, don't they? Besides, I'm saving room for that delicious chicken salad."

Harry laughed, raising an eyebrow in mock suspicion. "Alright, alright, I won't question y’saintly decisions. S’just enjoy this lovely evening and the meal to come."

The waiter returned with your drinks about five minutes later, placing a glass of red wine in front of Harry and a refreshing lemonade for you. As she walked away, leaving you two to enjoy your beverages, you lifted your glass and initiated a spontaneous toast.

"Cheers to your birthday, my love," you exclaimed, your eyes sparkling with affection. "I just wanted to take a moment to say how much I love you. I can't wait to spend eternity together, celebrating moments like these."

Harry's gaze softened, and he blinked his glass against yours.

"To eternity and beyond," he replied, his voice filled with warmth. "M’the luckiest person to have you by m’side. Here's to many more birthdays and unforgettable moments together."

The bistro's ambiance embraced the intimate exchange, and you continued to express your love and appreciation for Harry.

"You make every day special, but today, on your birthday, I want it to be extra magical for you," you confessed, your sincerity echoing in the quiet moments between sips of the refreshing lemonade.

Harry's smile widened, and he reached across the table to gently squeeze your hand. "Having y’here is the best gift I could ever ask for. Every moment with you is magical, and m’grateful for it all."

/ /

As the early evening settled around the villa, you found yourselves back in the comforting haven of your shared space. In the bathroom, bathed in a soft glow, you stood before the mirror, carefully removing mascara and eyeliner.

The simple act of cleansing away the day's makeup was a routine that marked the transition from daytime adventures to the quiet moments of the evening.

Meanwhile, in the bedroom, Harry lay on the bed, Milo nestled at his feet. He absentmindedly scratched at the short growth of hair on his head, a subtle reminder of a recent decision to shave it off.

The room radiated with a sense of tranquility as you each indulged in the rituals that marked the end of the day.

Wearing one of Harry's shirts that enveloped you in the familiar scent of him, you busied yourself in the bathroom, preparing a late evening birthday surprise.

The soft rustling sounds of your movements echoed against the backdrop of Harry's contemplative scratching, creating a harmony of shared space and intimate connection.

With a soft smile gracing your lips, you glanced at yourself in the bathroom mirror before deciding it was time to return to the bedroom.

Your hands were discreetly behind your back, holding a late evening birthday surprise for Harry. As you stepped into the bedroom, Harry, already seated on the bed, noticed your presence and sat up, beckoning you with open arms.

"I want a cuddle," he declared, his eyes twinkling with a playful warmth. Unable to resist his endearing request, you let out a soft giggle at his baby-like antics.

Playfully, you approached the bed as he beckoned you forward.

Crawling onto the bed next to him, you let yourself be enveloped in his arms. You laid your head on his chest, the rhythmic beat of his heart echoing comfort and love.

The anticipation of the surprise gift still hidden behind your back added an extra layer of excitement to the intimate moment.

"I missed you," Harry murmured, his voice a gentle caress. You pressed a kiss over his heart, savoring the warmth of the connection. His arms tightened around you, embracing the familiar comfort of being close.

Taking a deep breath, you looked at Harry with a warm smile, saying, "I've got one last present for you. Close your eyes."

Harry hesitated for a moment, a playful smirk tugging at his lips, before obediently shutting his eyes. With gentle steps, you moved towards him, the late evening's golden glow casting a soft ambiance around you.

In your hands, you held a delicate gift, and with a mix of hesitation and tenderness, you softly placed it in Harry's hands.

"Okay, open your eyes," you instructed, your heart fluttering with a secret that had the power to change your lives forever.

Harry blinked his eyes open, and as he glanced down at his hands, a flicker of confusion passed over his face. Then, his gaze landed on the small object nestled in his palms.

It took a moment for the realisation to sink in, and when he saw what it was, his eyes widened, and he gasped.

"What... is this?" Harry stammered, his voice shaky with emotion.

His trembling fingers picked up the small pregnancy test.

The room fell silent as the weight of the revelation settled in. Harry's eyes locked onto the test, and tears immediately welled up.

"S’this for real?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "This isn't some sick joke, right?"

You shook your head, a mixture of joy and vulnerability in your gaze. Leaning forward, you pressed your forehead against his, tears streaming down both your cheeks.

"It's true, H. I'm eleven weeks pregnant," you whispered, the magnitude of the moment engulfing you both in a wave of overwhelming emotions.

Harry's breath caught, and he pulled back slightly to look into your eyes.

"I... we're going to be parents?" he uttered, a mix of disbelief and elation in his voice.

A tender smile graced your lips, and you nodded. "Yes, Harry. We're going to be parents."

Tears rolled down his cheeks as he pulled you into a tight embrace.

"I can't believe it. M’going to be a dad," he mumbled against your hair, his voice filled with a joy that echoed through the room.

Overwhelmed with emotion, Harry leaned forward, his hand gently pressing against your stomach as if trying to connect with the new life growing within.

The tender touch conveyed a depth of love that words could only strive to express. His lips found yours in a sweet, lingering kiss, and as he pulled back, he whispered, "I love you, I love you, I love you."

“This is the best birthday ever,”he spoke, chocking out a soft sob. “Thank you m’love, thank you, thank you for making us parents.”

You softly placed your hands on his cheeks to get him to look at you, and when his green eyes met yours, you smiled at him tenderly.

“Happy 30th Birthday, Baby.”

[thelordofgifs]

the fairest stars: post iv

Beren and Lúthien steal two Silmarils, more sons of Fëanor than anyone ever needed or wanted get involved, things go extremely sideways: you know the drill. You can find the first 18 parts of this bullet point fic on AO3 here, and parts 16-20 on tumblr here.

We're starting out part 21 with a timeskip!

One year after the fall of Himring, north Beleriand remains bitterly contested.

The East is overrun. In Barad Eithel's great war-room the map of Estolad is covered in black arrows stretching from Lothlann down to the Andram Wall.

Caranthir and Amras maintain a last stronghold on Amon Ereb, with the people of Himring who fled there after its fall; but Ossiriand, they fear, will only remain undefiled so long as Morgoth's attention does not turn towards it.

Their Eastern allies, too, are unimpressed. Bór and his young sons were all slain not long after Himring burned; the few of their people who escaped the orc-raids have joined themselves to Ulfang in Thargelion, but they are none too friendly to the Fëanorians these days.

"And Nelyo says I'm bad at making allies," Caranthir remarks.

[yeah he's in this now. damn it why will they not stay in their place.]

"I wouldn't say this is Nelyo's fault," Amras says quietly.

It is a debate held, in one form or the other, in every free kingdom in Beleriand.

But anyway, the East does not seem to be Morgoth's main concern for now.

It is Hithlum, Fingon is sure, where the next assault will come.

Hithlum, the realm of the High King of the Noldor; Hithlum, where he reigns who once humilated Morgoth so thoroughly; Hithlum, where Maedhros holds a Silmaril yet.

If the last true stronghold of the Noldor falls—

And he is facing plenty of internal pressure, too.

His lords – many of them survivors of the Grinding Ice, and arch-loyal followers of the House of Fingolfin – are less than impressed by the rumours that have reached them of the fall of Himring, and Maedhros' actions there.

Fingon has tried to quell the whispers as best as he can. But it is impossible to deny the fact that the attack took Himring by surprise because its patrols were cancelled on Maedhros' orders, or that Maedhros left the field as their position worsened.

The healers who treated Maglor's stab wound have not been quiet, either, about the fact that it was an elvish blade that caused the injury.

And some of those who were at Himring have heard that Maglor was found in a pool of his own blood with Maedhros, subdued too late, unconscious beside him—

If only they knew, Fingon thinks furiously, they would not cast sly aspersions on his judgement and his taste in friends. They would not stop talking of anything consequential when Maedhros drew near, as if he is not to be trusted with the secrets of the war.

Of course when he dares to suggest to Maedhros that this might bother him, Maedhros laughs and says, "Finno, do you think this the worst humiliation I have ever endured?"

So. There's not much Fingon can say to that.

His father was a diplomat, a politician, a builder of alliances. Fingon is not doing a very good job of living up to that legacy.

Thingol returned no response to the letter Fingon sent him, informing him of Curufin's disappearance.

In fact, Thingol is kind of just Done.

So the Noldor turned out to be faithless. What else is new?

Also he didn't really want Curufin's head anyway. Where would he even put it?

Fingon cannot give him what he truly wishes for: his daughter.

In Lúthien's absence old age has fallen upon him, who has lived unwithered for long Ages of the Stars since his birth at distant Cuiviénen.

Melian sings no longer. The people of Doriath, who have known little but peace and splendour since the Girdle was first raised, begin to wonder if their blessings have been withdrawn.

So it is a Menegroth much changed into which Beren and Lúthien walk, hand in hand, one afternoon.

Their return is met with both joy and some consternation. Youth comes back to Thingol at the touch of his daughter's hand; but Melian knows that she will never smile again.

Lúthien bears it all, the feasts of celebration at which none can look her in the eye, her father's overwhelming gladness and her mother's sorrow, the halls that ring yet with the memory of her grief, for exactly two weeks; then she announces that she and Beren are leaving.

"Daughter," Thingol protests, "you have only just returned to us – and soon—"

(Thingol does not know how he will ever handle the parting that is to come.)

"Will you not stay?" he asks. "This is your home."

Lúthien is not sure she knows what home means any more.

"I am sorry," she says, regretful but firm.

The next day finds her and Beren walking through Brethil, debating their next course of action – just as they did not so very long ago, when Celegorm and Curufin attacked them in the woods.

It is of that little skirmish that Beren is thinking now.

"They say Curufin is still out there somewhere," he argues. "It mightn't be safe—"

"I sang Morgoth himself to sleep," Lúthien cries, "and you think I can't take Curufin Fëanorion?"

"Tinúviel," Beren says, with a laugh, "I do not think there is anyone you can't take."

Lúthien allows herself to be placated.

"I am not suggesting we dwell alone in the wilderness," she says; "you made your earlier thoughts on that very clear. But I – I cannot go back to being Doriath's Princess, Beren, as if every part of me is not changed irretrievably since first you called my name, as if – as if you didn't die there, and—"

"Sweetheart," says Beren, kissing her forehead. "It wasn't permanent." And when she chokes out a little laugh through her tears, he goes on, "I know you do not wish to stay in Doriath. But we must choose somewhere – and somewhere safe. It seems as though the Enemy's reach has lengthened in the time we were, um, gone."

"I thought to go to Ossiriand," Lúthien says. "My kin the Green-elves still guard those lands."

"But only those lands," says Beren. "Estolad and Thargelion are overrun. The sons of Fëanor keep no watch upon the Eastmarch. If Morgoth were to learn that you dwelled there—"

"I'm not afraid," Lúthien says. "And even if I were – am I never to venture beyond the Girdle again, for fear of him? Is all my father's kingdom to be naught to me but a prison, as Hírilorn was? I cannot stand it – I will not."

Beren takes both her hands in his one and looks at her. "Tinúviel," he says, very seriously, "I will never cage you."

Oh, he knows her. What a wondrous, terrifying thing, to be understood so completely.

Perhaps Lúthien is still a little delirious with the rush of living once more, for she dips her head to capture Beren's mouth in a delighted kiss, and for a time they both forget all other matters.

Plucking strands of grass from her hair some time later, Beren says, "I have another idea."

"What! I thought I argued my case quite passionately," Lúthien teases.

"You said you thought of dwelling among your kin," says Beren. "What of going to mine, instead?" And, when Lúthien shoots him a puzzled look, "The House of Bëor is mostly ruined, but there are still remnants of my people who escaped Dorthonion ere its fall. Some of them dwell nearby, with the Haladin. And others went north to Dor-lómin – my little cousin Morwen is the lady of that land now."

"I do not wish to stay in Brethil," says Lúthien; "it is rather too close to Menegroth for my tastes. But the Land of Echoes, on the other hand..."

Her eyes are alight with that same fanciful gleam they used to get when Beren told her stories of the world outside the Girdle, of holy Tarn Aeluin and the dread Ered Gorgoroth alike.

You would think, Beren muses, that she would have had enough of adventure by now.

"I have," says Lúthien, catching his thought. "We are to live a very peaceful and retiring life. I insist on it! That is what I told Mandos we deserved. None shall dare assail us, in Dor-lómin." She rolls the name on her tongue as if trying to taste it.

"They call it so because of the terrible cry of Morgoth when Ungoliant assailed him," Beren tells her, "not for any sweeter music."

Lúthien laughs and flings her arms around him. Oh, his living body warm and solid against hers! It is a gift she does not intend to waste.

"Luckily," she says, "I am good at changing the melody."

Another conversation between lovers:

"Do you think it could be done?"

“I have already told you what I think.”

"But you haven't explained," Fingon persists, "you have only looked at me dolefully and proclaimed that it is not possible."

"Well, it is not," says Maedhros. He is lying curled in Fingon's arms, their ankles hooked together, and he is loath to disturb their contentment with arguing. Keeping his voice measured, he says, "If our strength were doubled I do not think it would be enough, Finno."

"The attack will come either way," Fingon says, also without much vigour. They have had this debate so many times now that it is become well-worn. "Why not meet it head on?"

"Because you have a defensible position here," Maedhros says patiently, "and a greater chance of holding than you do of storming the gates of Angband."

"My father did it," Fingon mutters.

"Your father died," Maedhros says, voice suddenly sharp.

Fingon looks at him. "Don't look so worried, beloved! I am quite turned off the idea of wasteful heroics these days."

"Then look to strengthening your defences," Maedhros says, "and drop this fool notion."

"But if we did try," says Fingon, "if we united all the Free Peoples under one banner, and marched on Angband together – think what we could achieve!"

His eyes are bright with hope. Maedhros hates to crush it, but crush it he must.

"Finno," he says, "the East is lost. My brothers do not have so strong a position in Amon Ereb that they can afford to march north to join in a war that could prove ruinous. Bór and his people are dead almost to a man. Belegost will no doubt have heard the rumours—"

Fingon glances at him sharply, but he speaks without bitterness. Which is concerning in itself, but Fingon decides to let it slide for now.

"—and there is little help to be expected from other corners," Maedhros continues. "Doriath has strength to spare, but Thingol hates you."

Fingon shifts uncomfortably. He never actually told Maedhros why Thingol hates him now.

"Nargothrond," he says, to change the subject. "Orodreth will answer to his High King."

"Orodreth!" says Maedhros, dismissively. “A king too ruled by the whims of his people. If he had any spine he would have turned my brothers out of Nargothrond immediately, and Finrod might have lived.”

If Fingon were crueller he might say, You didn't manage to control your brothers that well yourself. Instead he says, "But the people of Nargothrond are many and valiant. We should not discount them."

"If Nargothrond wishes to stay out of the wars of the north," says Maedhros, "I think it would be prudent to allow them to do so." There is a thoughtful, uneasy look in his grey eyes.

Fingon gauges it correctly and says, "Are you worried for your nephew?"

Maedhros looks at him unhappily. "Everyone in Beleriand knows what a mess – Curvo – made of – everything," he says.

(A year might have passed, but Maedhros still does not much like to speak of Curufin.)

"Tyelpë is safe in Nargothrond, where his father's deeds cannot taint him," Maedhros says. "I would keep him so." Then he shrugs. "But my opinion carries no weight now, beloved. Do as you will, and I will support you, for all that is worth."

"It carries weight with me," Fingon says fiercely. "And I am not ashamed to say so. But you have not yet heard the key element in my plan."

Maedhros smiles despite himself, propping himself up on his elbows so that he can keep his eyes focused on Fingon's face. The mass of his silken hair is pooled on Fingon's bare chest. "Go on, then," he says, indulgent.

"Gondolin," Fingon says triumphantly. "My brother took a third of our host with him when he disappeared, and yet more of the Sindar went with him. They have lived in peace for more than three hundred years; their numbers must be great."

Maedhros does not seem as delighted with this idea as Fingon is. "Finno, you don't know where Gondolin is."

"The Eagles bring them tidings, clearly," Fingon points out; "else they would have opened the leaguer and come to our aid when they saw the fires of the Dagor Bragollach on the horizon."

Maedhros frowns, attempting to parse this extremely backwards logic. Eventually, he says, "If Hithlum falls, Gondolin will be the last stronghold of the Noldor in the north. I do not know if its position should be risked."

"All war is risk, beloved," says Fingon, "and if I were to call upon my brother, Hithlum will not fall."

Maedhros says, as if he has been saving this blow for last, "Finno, if you call upon Turgon, will he even answer?"

It has been more than three hundred years, since Fingon last saw his brother.

“Do you think he won’t?” he asks, more sharply than he means to.

(Turgon didn’t tell him he was going. He didn’t tell anyone. He just – vanished.)

Sometimes Maedhros thinks things were easier during Maglor’s long convalescence, when his only concern was his brother, when every sleepless night was because Maglor needed someone to sit up with him and every meal was whatever invalid's food Maglor could be persuaded to choke down – when Fingon was his strength and steadiness, and Maedhros could yet wrap his blue cloak around him like armour.

Selfish – selfish. Maglor is better now, and Maedhros is so, so glad; and Fingon cannot always be his strength. Sometimes Maedhros must be his.

"I am sure he will," he says, contrite. He presses a kiss to Fingon's tense jawline. "I just don't think it wise to ask him."

Fingon sighs and puts his arms around Maedhros. "Fine," he concedes. "Perhaps you are right."

But later, when they have extricated themselves from their warm tangle of limbs and risen for the day, he sits down to write a letter.

A few days later the High King's messenger, having ridden swiftly along the Ered Wethrin and into Dor-lómin, nearly collides with a small child playing near the road.

"Be careful!" cries Lúthien, dropping Beren's hand and rushing forward to snatch the child up.

The messenger gapes at her, for it seems to him as though she has materialised out of the shadows themselves. Then, when he gets better look at her beauty, he gapes even more.

Lúthien is not paying attention. All her focus is on the little golden-haired creature in her arms. "That was nearly very dangerous for you, wasn't it, sweetheart?" she coos. "But you don't seem frightened at all. What's your name, dear one?"

The little girl giggles and hides her face in Lúthien's sleeve without answering.

Beren feels a little dizzy, looking at the picture that they make, and at the bright tender look on his wife's face. Someday, he tells himself, someday.

He looks around. The messenger has dismounted; it seems the great house up ahead is his destination. A house of lords, clearly, surrounded by gardens as lovely as any in the chilly northlands, and with a bubbling stream running just past its walls.

Well, here they are.

He is pondering what the etiquette is here – should they knock? wait here until someone spots them? – when he catches sight of a second child, a little older, dark-haired, watching them intently from around a tree-trunk.

"Good day, lad," Beren says gravely. "Might I ask your name, and those of your parents?"

The boy regards him with suspicion for a while, before he finally says, "I am Túrin son of Húrin, and that is my sister Lalaith."

(One little-appreciated consequence of the fall of Himring: for the last year, Morgoth's attention has been on the final desecration of the March of Maedhros. He did not have time to send the Evil Breath to Dor-lómin.)

"Lalaith!" Lúthien says, delighted. "What a fitting name."

"Then, son of Húrin," says Beren, "we have reached our destination indeed. Might you do me the honour of introducing us to your parents?"

Túrin looks unimpressed. "Who are you?" he asks.

"My name is Beren son of Barahir," says Beren, "and we are kinsmen, son of Morwen."

Túrin frowns even more. "How do you know my mother's name?" he demands. "And Beren is dead."

Kind of hard to argue with that.

Before Beren can come up with a suitable response there is a small noise from the direction of the house: the children's mother has come out to call them in for the evening meal. She stands so still she might be made of stone, were it not for the wind whipping up her dark hair behind her.

Beren finds his own mouth is very dry.

He buried Baragund his cousin, and avenged him; and he has not thought of his slaughtered companions for a long time.

(There's only so much survivor's guilt one person can have, and it is usually the screams of Finrod and his Ten that haunt Beren's nightmares.)

Morwen is not now the thirteen-year-old he remembers, her face sterner and more sorrowful, but somehow she is the image of her dead father.

"Hello, little cousin," he croaks out.

Morwen stares at him.

Lúthien comes to the rescue. "You must be the lady Morwen," she says warmly, setting Lalaith down so that she can drop into a graceful curtsey. Her Taliska is hesitant, but beautiful. (Everything about Lúthien is beautiful.) "Beren has told me so much of you. And your children are charming."

"Beren's dead," Morwen says at last, shakily. "And – you—"

"I was dead," says Beren, "but now I'm not. I don't know how to explain it, cousin, but—" He holds his hand out to her, letting the Ring of Barahir gleam green upon his finger in the setting sun. "It really is me."

Morwen makes another small sound, swaying where she stands. Her hand rests on her son's dark head as though he is the only thing keeping her upright.

"Mother?" Túrin says nervously.

Before things can get any more awkward the lord of the house comes out to seek his family, perhaps wondering what is taking them so long. "Morwen," he says quietly, seeing her stiff posture.

But Morwen takes a breath. "We have guests, Húrin," she says, composed again. "This is my kinsman Beren Erchamion, and his – and his wife, the Princess of Doriath."

Lúthien turns her dazzling smile on Húrin. "A pleasure to meet you," she says gaily. "But call me rather the Lady of Dorthonion."

(to be continued)

[tiannasfanfic]

Wisdom

Eddie Munson x Reader (Fluff)

| Masterlist | AO3 Link |

Summary: You finally get your wisdom teeth taken out and your best friend, Eddie Munson, is there to take care of you afterwards.

Rating: General

Author Note: Gender neutral reader, they/them pronouns, if any. Here's a little bit of fluff to go with all of our smut for Kinktober. Based on when I got my wisdom teeth taken out and the hilarity of me waking up from anesthesia. The only thing I remember about any of this is the tongue thing. Everything else I was told about second hand from my parents.

CW: Dental problems (wisdom teeth, wisdom teeth removal with no details except for proper medical definitions only); pain; pain medication used for post-op pain; side effects of anesthesia and pain mediation (loopiness, nausea, mentions of Reader throwing up due to medication); mention of IV but no details.

Word Count: 2,112

There comes a time in everybody’s life where a certain rite of passage happens. It’s an unpleasant one that everybody dreads.

Wisdom teeth removal.

While most people would have it done right away if they had the means, you put it off. You didn’t want to do it. It wasn’t that you were scared about it. The idea of having them taken out didn’t bug you at all since they’d be knocking you out cold for the procedure. It was the idea of recovering with all sides of your mouth hurting that intimidated you.

After three years of putting it off, you finally hit your breaking point when both of your bottom wisdom teeth were so impacted you had regular, painful flair ups of TMJ and were infected to the point you had to be on antibiotics for three weeks before the oral surgeon could even touch you.

Needless to say, your dad, your best friend Eddie Munson and his uncle, Wayne, weren’t very happy with you that you let it get that bad.

That was why when your dad got called out of town for work two days before your surgery, he immediately called Wayne and Eddie. Your dad was supposed to take you to the appointment and look after you for a couple of days, so he was afraid if you had to reschedule, you’d just cancel it completely. After seeing you be in pain almost daily since you were 17, no one wanted that. A new plan was quickly formulated.

Eddie would take you to and from the appointment. Since your dentist expected the recovery to be rough at first with how bad it was, Eddie would stay with you for a couple of days until you had recovered some.

It was a simple enough plan.

At first, all was going well. You couldn’t eat or drink after midnight, so your appointment was early. 8:30am, to be exact, so you went ahead and got your prescriptions the day before, then stayed the night with Eddie to make sure he got up. One thing he would never be accused of in his life was being a morning person.

Surprisingly, he got up easily when Wayne woke you two up at 6am when he got home from work.

“Course I’m getting up,” Eddie said groggily, sitting at the edge of the bed and rubbing his eyes when you teased him about it. “I hate seeing you in pain and you know I would do just about anything for you.”

That made you warm inside. While Eddie was your best friend, you had fallen for him ages ago and had kept quiet about it. That was a line you didn’t want to cross since he was your closest friend. Outside of him, your dad and Wayne, you couldn’t count on many people. If you told Eddie how you felt and the friendship was ruined, that would effectively cut the list in half. That was something you definitely wanted to avoid. Your feelings had been bottled up for a long time now, and that’s exactly where you intended to keep them.

Surprisingly, you didn’t get nervous about the procedure until you were already in the chair with the IV in. They had you count backwards from one hundred, but you were out cold before you even reached ninety.

Thus ended your part in the whole fiasco.

And it would, indeed, become a fiasco.

Two hours later, Eddie was woken up from his nap in the waiting room to the news that you were awake and ready to go home. The nurse led him back to your room so they could go over post-op care with him since you were, in the nurse’s words, “a little loopy.”

Loopy didn’t even begin to cover it.

Despite the fact you had just gone through a little bit of surgery, you were in the best mood Eddie had ever seen you in for the entire time he’s known you.

“Weddy, muh wuv!” you exclaimed as soon as he walked in.

Eddie took one look at you and had to bite his lip to keep from laughing.

Between the gauze you had in your mouth and the mild swelling already starting through your cheeks, you reminded him of a squirrel who had its mouth packed full of nuts.

“Ah mah gawd, Weddy!” you said, making grabby hands at him so he’d come closer. “Ave ah avar tald ewe ow uch ah’m in ove wit ewe? Ike, fer eel?”

That was the moment Eddie realized weed highs and anesthesia highs were two completely different things. Between the obvious slurring from that and the gauze, he didn’t have a clue what you just tried to say.

“Hey there, Princess,” Eddie said, chuckling as he came over to the dentist’s chair you were sitting in.

As soon as he got close enough, you dove halfway out of the chair to wrap your arms around his hips in a bear hug. You also headbutted Eddie right in the crotch in the process. Thankfully, it wasn’t terribly hard, but it was definitely hard enough to make tears spring up in his eyes and his knees wobble.

“Easy there, Princess,” he gently scolded you, a slight strain to his voice from the impact.

He grasped you by your shoulders to sit you upright in the chair before you could lean over anymore and fall out of it.

Right as Eddie was about to pull away and stand upright, you grabbed his face in both of your hands and kissed him.

Or, tried to, rather. You just kind of latched your lips onto his bottom lip and sat there, completely still with your eyes closed.

Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle then, and gently pushed you back down into the chair. You pouted, which looked especially pathetic with your slightly swollen bottom lip.

It didn’t take long to go over the post-op instructions, then Eddie pulled his van around to the side entrance the nurse brought you to in a wheelchair. It took a few minutes to load you up because you kept jumping out of the van and back into Eddie’s arms before he could get the door closed. He finally had to go back around to sit in the driver’s side and coax you in while the nurses helped you climb up into the van.

The drive back was uneventful for the first half of the half hour trip. You were a chatterbox during that time, though Eddie still couldn’t understand you. One sentence sounded like, “I love you, Eddie,” but he knew that wasn’t what you said. As much as he wanted you to, he knew you really didn’t feel that way about him.

Then, halfway home, you started freaking out for apparently no reason. He ended up pulling over and calming you down but still couldn’t understand what you were trying to say when he asked you what happened. You finally took some of the gauze out then to explain.

“Thomething wath moving in my mouth and it thcared me.”

It was your tongue. You had noticed your tongue moving between the gauze while you were talking, and it freaked you out.

A couple of minutes after Eddie pulled back onto the road, you suddenly got quiet for the first time since you’d been out of surgery. Eddie looked over to see your face twisted in a look of discomfort and you were holding your stomach.

“Feeling sick?” Eddie asked and you nodded rapidly.

Eddie started speeding a little since he knew how much it sucked throwing up in a moving vehicle or on the side of the road. The nurse had warned him nausea was a potential reaction to being under anesthesia, so that wasn’t a surprise.

As soon as he pulled up to your house, he cut the engine, jumped out of the van, and ran up to the door to get it unlocked. He figured that would make it easier for you if he went back for you rather than make you stand there while he got it open.

However, he had barely gotten the inside door open when he heard the sound of running footsteps behind him. Eddie turned around just in time to see you stagger running up on him. He jumped out of your way, holding the screen door open for you as you ran inside, making a bee line for the bathroom while very obviously trying not to fall over.

Eddie quickly got the passenger door of the van closed so none of the neighborhood cats would get in, then hurried to check on you.

By this point, you were on your knees in front of the toilet, leaned over it and holding onto the bowl for dear life. He had seen this pose a couple of times after you’d had too much to drink. Since there was nothing in your stomach, the throwing up amounted to just dry heaving, but it didn’t take very long before you were sobbing, too.

“Throwing up after surgery sucks,” you whined into the toilet as Eddie held your hair and rubbed your back.

At least you had realized you needed to take the gauze out before you started throwing up. It was sitting next to you on the floor, so all Eddie had to do was throw it away rather than fish it out of the toilet.

It didn’t take very long before you felt okay enough to let Eddie help you up and lead you to his bed, where you not so gracefully fell onto it. Since you had been told to dress comfortably in loose clothing, you were already basically wearing your pajamas. You were in a loose t shirt and pajama pants, so you wouldn’t have to change. You had even forgone a bra since you didn’t want to mess with one when you got back.

Eddie helped you get in a more comfortable position and pulled the covers up over you. You ended up falling asleep shortly after that and this time Eddie was positive he heard you mutter, “I love you.” But, as much as it made his heart skip, he knew it was just the drugs talking.

The fiasco continued later that afternoon when you discovered the hard way that the painkillers you were prescribed made you sick. This time, it wasn’t just passing nausea and you spent quite a while with your head in a trash can. That understandably made you refuse to take anymore, but you were in a lot of the pain after the last of the anesthesia and Novocain wore off. It kept you up all night, which kept Eddie awake.

Eddie spent most of the day trying to think of a way to help you when an idea finally occurred to him.

“I know you can’t smoke,” he said. “But I can try shot gunning it to you instead. See if that helps.”

You were ready to try anything at this point and readily agreed.

The first hit from the joint went well. Eddie kept his lips a safe distance from yours to avoid bumping into you. You kept your eyes closed as you slowly inhaled the smoke through your mouth. Still though, it felt intensely intimate to Eddie, and he had to keep himself from trembling above you.

The next few hits weren’t as intense for him now that he knew what to expect, and he managed to get through a full joint by shot gunning most of the hits to you. After about an hour, when it did indeed seem to be helping, he lit up another joint to start the process again.

Eddie didn’t notice how he got closer and closer to you with each shotgun. He didn’t notice it when he lightly pressed his lips to yours, or your eyes snap open wide since his were closed. He didn’t even notice it when he did the same thing a few moments later with the last hit off the joint.

But he did notice it when your hand came up to rest softly along the side of his face.

Eddie’s eyes few open and he finally realized he was actually kissing you.

After a moment, he pulled away and your eyes came halfway open. A sleepy, high smile came across your face.

“What took you so long?” you asked him.

Before Eddie could formulate a response, you yawned slightly and turned onto your side, eyes closing. You were asleep before he knew it, leaving him sitting over you, blinking.

That had to be the pain and the weed talking…right?

Had to be.

[nobodywritingao3]

i feel kind of sick making this post so please excuse me if i sound like a rambling mess. i am not the type of person to talk in detail about my life in online places cuz i live in fear of this getting back to my abuser but shubble's story punched all my most sensitive spots and i want to talk about it

(really long sensitive post)

ive gotten kind messages from people that i havent responded to. the idea of responding to people individually kind of makes me feel sick. so im doing this instead. and im also going to vent really hard because i am not doing well and talking about this to my therapist is soul crushingly embarrassing because wilbur soot is a minecraft man and im a freshly turned 20 year old who pays rent and is respected by my therapist and i dont want to admit that i wrote fanfic about a 30 year old white boy i discovered in quarantine when i was 15. can you imagine that conversation? id have to explain what the dream smp is.

when i watched shubble's video for the first time, i was in total disbelief. i couldnt believe that wilbur soot had done these things but i knew that the liklihood of it being anyone else was pretty low. i chose to hope that the story was not about him, and that if it was that he was a reformed abuser who had reorganized his value system and respected his partners now. i had a lot expectations. then he released his statement and i was horrified. i was disappointed and kind of in denial. his statement was worse than anything i had prepared for as 'worst case scenario.' as time has passed my denial has mostly dulled but im ashamed and im embarassed and im badly triggered.

i kind of hysertically hoped that it was a sick prank that shubble and wilbur cooked up and would get horribly cancelled for, but its not a prank, theres no "haha sike" moment, and wilbur abused shelby.

his response undid me because i saw so much of my own abuse in the words he used.

abusers are really good at making people take a centrist "two sides to every story" stance. i dont know how to describe this to people who have never been abused, but i will do my best

most people are taught that when theres an argument between two people, both parties carry some amount of blame and if you want to resolve that issue, it's a good idea to look at your part in the dynamic. we're also taught to keep our disagreements between ourselves and to not involve other people in our drama.

these are sensible sentiments, but abusers are very good at manipulating these sentiments.

when a victim speaks up for themselves and they call someone an abuser, what they are saying is: "this person cruelly bullied me and hurt me and exerted control over me that i did not deserve or ask for or elicit."

that's a heavy accusation and it contradicts sentiments we are taught like "it takes two to tango" and "dont involve others with your relationship drama."

many abusers are charismatic people. id even say most. when you hear this accusation about someone you think is really cool, your natural instinct is to ask for their side of the story.

they will tell you some version of this:

"i am shocked and hurt that she would call me an abuser. we've been having relationship problems recently, and sometimes i lose my temper. im not proud of that. ive done a lot of things im not proud of. it's true that i did [insert played down act of violence] to her, but you wouldnt believe the horrible things she was saying to me. i lost control, and im so ashamed of myself."

this version of events makes the abuser seem reasonable, it makes the victim seem irrational and quick to blame and hysterical

from here, a lot of people will nod thoughtfully and go. "yeah. yeah. that makes sense. everyone has a unique perspective. the fact that shes attributing all the blame to him without recognizing her own flaws and contributions to the relationship while he does shows that hes the reasonable one here. hes such a chill guy. the things shes saying dont make sense at all. i probably wont say it to her face, but i think shes in the wrong."

wilbur's response hit all the beats im familiar with. it was so in line with everything my abuser used against me, and in line with what ive heard other victims say their abusers used against them, and in line with examples ive read and witnessed and had countless psychiatrists walk me through that reading it was like getting hit by a train.

the hope that i carried with me through that week was that wilbur was a reformed abuser. but reading that response gave me the gut wrenching confirmation that he wasnt.

thinking about it too much literally makes me sick and shaky in a way i havent experienced since my own abuser tracked me down the first time and gave me a beautifully wrapped gift. with my abuser, i had several years trapped with him where all the love i felt for him disappeared and was replaced by total hatred for everything he put me through. i wasnt expecting this from wilbur at all, and i feel fucking sick because this was a man i sincerely admired and looked up to a lot. i really liked wilbur soot. he released that response and this image in my head that i had of him was tainted by the memories of my abuser.

im reminded of one event several years ago where i was choked. i tried to ask for help but everyone who knew immediately reached out to him and asked for "his side of the story." i dont want to talk about what he did to me after that. all that matters is that in the end, no one believed me. everyone took his side over mine and insisted that i was lying or exaggerating or trying to get attention or trying to make him look bad. people who i loved and thought would always be there for me sent me paragraph long text messages calling me a bitch and a cunt. the person i loved the most in the world told me that i was out of line and said point blank that they were sorry, but couldnt believe me over the person who choked me. i had never felt so alone.

ive been having a rough time. i confided in a friend who is trying to escape his abusive husband, and he gently told me that this might mean i have "a type," meaning im naturally drawn to people who are abusive. after i escaped, i took a lot of solace in the fact that i was inspired so much by wilbur soot. i thought he was progressive and stood up for womens rights and was anti bigotry and all those lovely good things. this man i admired so much was the image of healthy, nonviolent, kind masculinity. finding out he isnt has made me question myself and my own judgment and it's making me wonder if the people i let in my life and the people im drawn to are people who i subconsciously know will hurt me.

as of now, its been a year and a half since i escaped my abusive family at 18 years old. i turned 20 like half a second ago. the past 18 months of my life have been devoted to looking into legal protection, getting therapy to undo nearly 2 decades worth of ptsd, trying to keep all my baggage to myself because i dont want to burden my friends anymore than i have, and holding down a steady job so that i can afford rent without having to rely on the parents of my friends to house and feed me and keep my location secret from an insane group of people who reeeeally want me to come back even tho im pretty sure one of them might """""accidentally"""" kill me one day

i feel ashamed and embarrassed by being this affected by wilbur soot. parasocial relationships are looked down upon and i feel like the perfect stereotype of a hysterical, delusional teenager / young lady finding out that her hero is "a flawed human being, just like you and me - seriously, what did you expect?!"

i already see people jumping to his defense, although i try to look away because that is also extremely triggering for me.

it is hard not to acknowledge wilbur's humanity, and i want to clarify that i do feel compassion for the amount of death threats, doxing, and isolation he is undoubtedly experiencing right now. no matter what you do, i dont believe that retributive justice or revenge is a proactive, sane response. i am sincerely worried that he will either try to kill himself as a last ditch attempt for sympathy OR that he will actually just kill himself from the public shaming. i do not want him to experience a mental health crisis and i do not want him to die, even tho he has horribly disappointed me and reminded me of so many bad things

this was kind of an insane post. im ready for it to get 1 note and then experience a horrifying amount of embarrassment as i realize that people read this and know disgusting amounts about me as a person, but i want to share my experience as someone who has been abused. i want to offer solace to people who are in the same boat and possibly reach someone who might have otherwise believed wilbur was telling the truth.

i want to end this post on a positive note, so im going to share some naive hope ive been repeating to myself for the past few days

i hope that people believe shubble. i hope she finds comfort and compassion and healing. i hope she can internalize that what happened to her was not her fault. i hope she lives a happy life surrounded by people who see her and care about her

i hope that the people close to wilbur make him confront this side of himself. i hope he fixes his abuse problem and reorganizes his values. i hope his network of people is strong enough not to abandon him entirely but to intervene and make him work on himself. i hope he stays alive and i hope that he becomes an advocate for abused women

this was cheesy and unrealistic but ive been sending my hope into the universe and trying not to shut down because i dont know what else to do and my two hours of government issued weekly ptsd therapy is already devoted to the horrible things i experienced firsthand

anyway

as far as my fanfiction goes???? i dont fucking know.

im not going to delete it. im definitely taking a break and at least stepping into a pause so i can properly reflect on what to do in the meantime. as a musician and writer and creative in general, i was inspired by many aspects of wilbur soot for years and i need a second to chill out and get a hold of myself

maybe ill complete my work. if i do ill upload the finished products in one go and probably orphan them. and maybe delete my ao3 account. god knows at this point

i am still cringing so hard at myself for making this post. it's very emotional and i try to sell myself as serious, intellectual person. maybe this post will be received great or badly or just be ignored. in any case ill be embarrassed so it doesnt really matter how anyone feels about me after this. if you took the time to read, thank you for hearing me out. and if you didnt, im glad that i got a little catharsis

[familyofpaladins]

“Wow. So that’s it. We’re really out of pizza. Forever.” Mikey leaned back in his chair, somber. “Not forever. Just as long as the Krang are here. Once we beat them, people can go back to growing tomatoes and wheat and yeast and milking cows.” Amended Donnie. “In the mean time we just… have to not think about it.” Raph suggested. “I am not exaggerating when I say: that’s literally impossible,” moaned Leo. “Wait wait, what if we make it like The Game? As soon as you think about it, you lose. The longer you go without thinking about it, you win.” Suggested Raph. --- or 5 times pizza is (not supposed to be) mentioned in the apocalypse, and 1 time the Apocalypse is cancelled and there is free pizza Basically How I think the turtles coped with a world where they "ate rats and leaves"

HERE IT IS!!! HERES THE FIC IVE BEEN WRITING FOR THE PAST MONTH

This is based on 3 different thoughts/questions I had immediately after watching the movie and has been living in my head rent free for over a year. How could the turtles survive in a world with no pizza when it's the thing they eat the most? How could Casey not know about it given said fact/how did the turtles never manage to say anything about it to him? And why was the last thing Leo said to him telling him to grab a slice?

Only have the first two chapters posted now because I still need to go through and edit them one more time (and need to fix a couple details that I changed last mintue) and finish the last little bit of the last chapter, but otherwise it IS DONE.

Hoping to have it all posted by the end of the week, but I needed to post at least some of it or I was gonna just keep editing it and never post it haha

(EDIT: the fic is complete!)

[kylesvariouslistsandstuff]

Recent Disney Animation "announcement" to "release date" movie timeline, a scorecard of sorts... Similar to the one I just did for DreamWorks... I'll begin with RAYA AND THE LAST DRAGON, which came out in 2021. I started at 2021 for DreamWorks as well... (That post here.)

WDAS had done things a little differently from DreamWorks, in that they'll often announce or let it slip that a director is attached to something. An untitled project, which they reveal the title of until they feel it's ready. For example, MOANA was talked about as far back as 2012 as an untitled Ron Clements and John Musker film. The title and premise was officially revealed in fall 2014, and the movie came out in Thanksgiving 2016.

DreamWorks by contrast will usually announce what the movie is upfront, not as "Untitled [Insert Director Here] Film".

So with that...

RAYA AND THE LAST DRAGON: Announced October 2018 as an untitled film from directors Paul Briggs and Dean Wellins. Released March 2021. A little over two years before release. Rumblings of Briggs and Wellins directing a film together at WDAS had gotten out earlier than that (around 2015), but little else. The title was revealed August 2019. Wellins was later removed from the film, and Briggs demoted to "co-director". Worth noting that RAYA was originally slated for Thanksgiving 2020, but got pushed to March 2021 due to COVID-19.

ENCANTO: Announced in November 2016 as an untitled musical from ZOOTOPIA director Byron Howard with music from Lin-Manuel Miranda. Released November 2021. Five years before release. The title and various other information was officially revealed as ENCANTO in December 2020.

STRANGE WORLD: Announced in December 2021. Released November 2022. Less than a year before release. Scooper sites beat Disney to this one by about a few months, but erroneously referred to the movie as SEARCHER CLADE. The Venture airship appeared as an Easter Egg in ENCANTO's end credits a month earlier before announcement.

WISH: Announced as a film being written by Jennifer Lee in January 2022. Released November 2023. Almost two years before release. The title WISH and other details were officially revealed in September 2022.

MOANA 2: Announced as a MOANA series for Disney+ in December 2020. Releasing November 2024. Nearly four years before release. Disney officially revealed that the MOANA series got retooled as a movie in February 2024.

ZOOTOPIA 2: Announced in February 2023. Releasing November 2025. Over two and a half years before release. There were rumblings of a ZOOTOPIA sequel well before the initial announcement.

FROZEN III: Announced in February 2023. Releasing some time in 2026. As of now, roughly three years before release. WDAS has a Thanksgiving 2026 slot locked for a feature film of theirs, it presumably will go to FROZEN III.

UNTITLED SUZI YOONESSI FILM: Announced in November 2019. Status unknown.

UNTITLED JOSIE TRINIDAD FILM: Announced in November 2019. Status unknown. There are some uncorroborated rumors that Trinidad is directing on ZOOTOPIA 2. If true, it doesn't apply here. This announcement from late 2019 concerned an original story of hers.

UNTITLED MARC SMITH FILM: Announced in November 2019. Status unknown.

FROZEN IV: Announced in November 2023. Status unknown.

UNTITLED CARLOS LOPEZ ESTRADA FILM: Announced in November 2019. Cancelled after Lopez Estrada left Disney in April 2022. Was rumored to be titled FOSTER.

[heartsick-honeybee]

@skye707 tagged me! Hopefully that means I'll catch a stray Riddler..

CMON Arkhamverse, fingers crossed! Jkjk.

Ten of my favorite movies in no particular order!

This was hard af actually because as soon as I read it I forgot every movie ive ever seen. Suddenly, all cinema ceased to exist. Thanks brain.

That being said I did my best as-per my recollection and am probably missing things I quite love. Woopsie.

Rules: post 10 of your favorite movies and tag 10 people.

#1: Fantasia (1941)

This one has been my favorite since I was 2 years old. Beautiful art, Disney, and Classical music. It's just a win.

#2: The Phantom of the Opera (2005)

This is all of nothing like the book and my 15 year old emo ass really wanted Christine to go with the phantom despite all the red flags.

Now that I'm an adult I think they'd have been a lovely poly couple, and Erik needs counselling. That being said it's still one of my top favorite movies ever.. Who knew Emmy Rossom and Gerard Butler could SING?

I still love to play it and sing every word, the absolute chagrin of my daughter.

#3: Queen of the Damned (2002):

Anne Rice, Vampires, a soundtrack that quite possibly shaped my entire music taste for life--

This movie is honestly terrible, but in a SO bad its GOOD way. Cult classic 100%.

For an emo 12 year old in the early 2000's this was the best shit EVER, right there beside MCR.

#4: Pride and Prejudice (2005):

SOMETHING ABOUT ME: I love books. I love THIS book. and I love this movie based on this book. -- Mr. Darcy, you are a charmer.

#5: Yellow Submarine (1968):

Another one that's been a top favorite since I was only 2 years old.

I grew up on Beatles, and before I was emo (Around 9 years old) I had a hippy phase where I only wore tie-die and listened to 60s music, with Beatles being my top. This throws me back to them days every time.

#6: Minority Report (2002)

Let's get this out of the way first: Tom Cruise is batshit crazy as a person. I completely acknowledge this. That being said I think this movie is very well done and has a very valid moral that can forever apply to society and social justice as a whole.

It also had a very short run TV Mini series in 2015 (Without Cruise) that was a continuation/sequel of the movie, which I ABSOLUTELY loved just as much. There is only 10 episodes and I was SO sad it was cancelled

#7: Encanto (2021)

By far the newest one on this list.

Good music.

I'm in love with a 50yr old RAT man.

What else can I say?

#8: Much Ado About Nothing (1993)

Another book turned movie,

ANYTHING Shakespeare is always iconic, but I think this version is absolutely my favorite. Perfect casting, perfect acting, and Dr. Willson from House is one of the main characters! (You may also recognize Professor Trelawney and Professor Lockhart from Harry Potter as your two main characters. <3 When HP first came out I can tell you I was SO excited for something different than what everyone else was because It was awesome to see them together in the same movie again, for me, since I loved this farrrrr first.

#9: 10 Things I Hate About You (1999)

a 90s classic, and ALSO a modern adaptation of another Shakespeare story: The Taming of the Shrew.

It's was very well done, modernizing (For the time) while still sticking to the story. Great cast, great acting, and an icon of the 1990s despite being a story of the 1590s.

I think this movie hit home in a way that other modern Shakespeare adaptations (Such as Romeo + Juliet (1996) and She's the Man 2006)) Missed the mark on. (Although, did you remember Channing Tatum was in that? I didn't! Haha.)

#10: Digimon: The Movie (2000)

Why? I can't tell you why. When this came out was at the height of me being super into Digimon. The art is different from the show in a way that I just vibe with. The entire movie just has a VIBE to it and it brings back good memories. ALL THE GOOD VIBES.

Honorable Mentions:

Counting these as ONE:

Batman (1989) Batman Returns(1992) Batman Forever (1995) Batman & Robin (1997)

SO despite having 3 different Batmans and only two being directed by Tim Burton, these movies ARE supposed to go together.

They are hokey, and for the most part I consider them a comedic AU, HOWEVER, that will never override a few things:

Firstly, these movies are what got me into Batman and Batverse originally, before the animated series came out.

Secondly, the animated series came out BECAUSE of these movies, and was at least loosely based on them (Which is why Selina was blonde in TAS, to tie in, though they later rectified that in TNBA)

And three, the ENTIRE aesthetic of the movie AND the musical scores being by Danny Elfman are their own works of absolute art that I will ALWAYS appreciate.

@caesariawrites @pharoahkittylover @arttimeoccasionallyimtired @just-an-enby-lemon @finzphoenix @geislieb @coffeeandconundrums @ednyxmatic @sh4pes-4nd-colors @spookyvoid

[lafrexniere]

where are youuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuyuuuuuuuuu

Lemme address my disappearance.

Im so sorry, Im super busy right now I will probably be more active in the last week of august and first two weeks of september bc thats when everyone leaves and I'm still at home chillin bc i go to school so late. There's just a lot going on and the only down time I get I just play video games or do nothing bc it's exhausting, so I will try to write again when I can but theres just a whole lot of physical and mental drainage right now.

My life rn:

Had strep throat for two weeks

Grad party

Time with my bf - this is taking a lot of my time up

Summer hockey - Drama with my teammates but its whatever idc last game is tonight then im done. Just people don't know how to treat goalies thats all I will say especially when ur the only one who willingly volunteered to play goalie (I LOVE MY GOALIE PARTNER THO LOVE LOVE LOVE HER) but when you are the only goalie on the team for a while and every loss becomes your fault even tho every shot you face is a breakaway and you face so many shots they stop counting and I manage to let in 5-6 goals a game bc no one is playing defense whatever (sorry rant)

Summer college class - also taking up a lot of time

Golfing

Packing and shopping for college

Managing a college hockey team

Performing at a music festival - practices

Other performance and rehearsals for other groups

My friends all kinda left me meaning I have lack of motivation to really do stuff bc sad - main motive for lack of inspo, this is a whole long story but I'll say it anyway: My bf is a year older than all of my friend group and plays hockey, they are not hockey people and they all have some problem that he doesnt do the same thing they do so they kinda exclude him when I host things and it just becomes and awkward situation. A whole thing went down with prom pics bc I left a gc with my toxic ex who is in the friend group who is nothing but mean to me and my bf and no one knows, me leaving that gc caused a whole uproar meaning everyone cancelled prom pics with me and tried to relocate an event I WAS HOSTING. There was a lot of lying and betrayal of trust and even tho they apologized no one will tell me the truth about prom. I then went to a concert with two of my friends in that group and they basically ditched me at the concert and were like whispering about stuff i already knew about and it was just like hurtful. Now they all do stuff without me and post it on Snap and Bereal where they know I can see it and dont even think to invite me. They all ignored me at MY OWN grad party yesterday so yeah whyd you come if it was to not see me (that sounds selfish im sorry) so theres my situation

Writers block 🤪 - trust me ive tried working on prompts you all have sent me and i just cant get started or i do start and its just like he said she said things and it just gets too boring

Sorry this became a little rant but yeah this is where I have disappeared to

Feel free to message me here tho or my insta (same username) if you want to talk about hockey boys or hockey or whatever and maybe even get to know me a little this is a sneak peek into my life 😁

[nboob]

i was sobbing so loud i think the case manager could probably hear me across the hall and my therapist told me i need to find just one thing to keep me strong for the rest of this week and then she canceled her staff retreat to meet with me next wednesday. she asks me if theres a history of alcoholism in my family at the end of our 50 minutes and i rofl my fastest copter out of there with a big XD. i spent my session trying to explain to her that yearning activates my gag reflex, that it doesnt feel like depression because everything im soy about is true, and that ive seen this play out before. then when i leave i log online and type out in chat that theres an extreme lack of bpd in my discord server  the fact that weve collected 20+ online poongays and only like 1.5 of them have bpd is some sort of natural anomaly... stop treating me like IM crazy when YOU GUYS are the outlier cuz bpd and transexualism go together like… Um well you get the picture

the worst thing ive done out of unrequited love i was probably around 15, when i developed this online relationship with a guy who would send me pictures of him digging his finger into his eye or his cut up face and shit, like joker shit... our relationship pretty much was built on a basis of just fucking being terrible to one another in ways that i wasted at least a couple hundred thousand hours on in high school. like he had this private vent account on instagram that i would stalk because hed change the bio intermittently to different messages for me in morse code that id have to manually translate with like, morsecodetranslator.com dot com, and wed just communicate like that when hed block me. anyway he broke up with me just before i turned 17 after maybe two years of developing this tumblr #yancore #actuallyobsessive relationship of fantasizing about killing each other. i took it really fucking hard so i cut his entire legal name into myself and then sent it to him after making a callout post on kinstagram, and then i took a couple handfuls of SSRIs in a desperate attempt for attention i mean suicide and spent a night throwing up foam into a bathroom sink and groaning

i mean nothing really came out of that and in my opinion its not a novel outcome of an e-kindating t4t relationship with some guy with DID from portland no less, albeit a mental decision, but like nine months later he sent me a DM on discord and it was his littlespace alter of honey from ouran high school host club being like Haii XDD do you remember me? I know you’re not talking to NAME REDACTED but I would really like to talk... and i answered him but it was, like, the wrong answer. i dont think hes ever going to reach out to me again and its whatever, hes engaged to some trog that he cosplayed stridercest with in middle school now and it at least forced me to start learning the gentle art of not responding 

i spent the last four years on a spiral staircase until the enormity of my desire started to disgust me. i dont think about my past relationships much but i spend a lot of time now thinking about what i should or should not say to you. yearning activates my siken complex and i almost always opt for silence, always kind of feel like too much and thats because i historically have been, but damn itd be nice to just give someone everything in some universe where i have some semblance of respect for myself. not circumstances where youre integrating yourself so deeply into the other person that the amount of self hatred you have inside of you becomes easier to carry when its directed at them. because like, the worst things ive done have been in love that’s requited and that makes it scary to start caring, right? now id have to describe my love language as a secret sixth thing that i dont feel comfortable succumbing myself or others to anymore, like a zit you have too deep in the skin to pop but hurts REALLY FUCKING BAD and seems like its never leaving. You gotta doctor pimple popper that shit with some Tito’s or like some pentobarbital

[chimeracreations-art]

GOAT Report: January 2023

Going to try and start doing like little post month reports as each one goes on, just for a bit of funzys and also to keep ya'll in the loop. so i guess the first thing we talk about is the good stuff.

So what were some of the positive thing i think I'm pretty happy about that i did or started in January.

- well we one thing i think i can say so far is iv just been really happy and having a fun time creating videos on YouTube, started doing this last year in December with a video on one of the BattleTech novels iv read and since no one in my local group is reading the current book as they there are just gamers or are not in the current sluff as there reading though the dark age book atm and so i just wanted to get my thoughts out there and people have been digging it. it also help people find out what what about some stuff too as i talked about some of the Kickstarter info and what not. going to try an shoot for one video a mouth atm as i really like reading a book or sourcebook and talking bout and learning more about BattleTech lore as i get further and further into it.

- my general skill development and work on trying to make different kinds of stuff has been pretty good, as my last few YCH have been looking very very good to me. i feel extra proud of the mommies and cookies, Casual Jerk-day and Mobile Fursuits G-witch Stickers all came out, the lighting and shading on all these as well some cartooning and use of perspective and pose work all made me real happy, same with the tank and the aliens design wip too (will be working on those soon so expect some adopts in a bit). over all just real happy with the quality bump iv had with those bits of work.

Starting getting plans set up to start an etsy store were you can buy stickers and prints later this year.

- the last thing i think I'm real happy with is the launch of my patreon as iv got 2 cool folk over there and i feel real happy about it.

the neutral - my out put for this month was ok, i got all my YCH finished and most of my commission done but iv got a few left over private commissions that still need to be done along with a design com for a friend that'll be working on this month. alongside that i ended up grabbing a room for FWA which while good put a dent into my profits this month but hopeful will pay off later down the road and also be fun. what kinda stinks is i got an extra room for some people and since it was a rush get it now or no room and then we'd have to do the drive up stuff i got the rooms and the other two ended up not being able to make it so atm I'm debating and talking with some other friends who might be able to buy the room or cancel the extra room's reservation as I'll only lose 187 buck at that point instead of the 600 and some.

- kinda fail a bit on streaming recently as iv just been to tired or sleepy to stream, not the worst thing since streaming is something i do to try and give myself a specific date and time to play games and get my dumb brain to not be in uber work mode all the time.

- sleep schedule good back to poop again.

- beside those it just kinda been hating the weather here in Georgia atm, cold as shit and rainy, wish i could just sit outside for a bit just so i could have some place outside the house to relax for a bit but it awful to do that atm since it been so cold, hopefully thing will get a little tolerable this month were i can at least feel ok sitting outside with a jacket as i do like sitting in our backyard to eat lunch or try and watch thing instead of inside the house.

The bad or the things i need to work on.

- kinda was a lazy ass and took a bit to get the one of the appointment to start getting my teeth fixed so that kinda sucked but i got the first one set up and so hopefully I'll have the holes in my teeth looked at and then done up soon and fixed real soon.

- still not happy with not working to much on my own projects and just wanting to create more ME stuff as i go but i might do some thing to help with that and hopefully the patreon will as well. like my NSFW stuff is good if still in my opinion could be developed further (if i had the time every YCH and doodle would probably have a fucking background and nice lighting like the mommies and cookies one, casue fuck do i just want to develop some of the idea more and add to like the idea of the piece, some would still be just void background but still i want to put more time into individual pics.)

- looking at house/apartments has started and is good but thing are not looking the best atm with prices and then the cost of amenities, a few spots have gone down a little but everything that not in an area were people don't get murder and others a lot is a bit rough or hard to get even with roommate splitting the costs . so while I'm hopeful at looking at places and eventually moving out, they are sorta still pissing me off a bit and might result in me raising prices along with my want to just do more things for myself.

- the discord is taking way longer to get set up then i thought and mix that with most of my time be put towards come has delayed it way more than i wanted to but im going to try and get some time into making some progress on it but ATM i make an announcement when it be ready to open.

and that all my immediate thought on looking back on January not a bad month not an amazing month ether just simple fairy plain work-month basically.

also if you didn't see them or know about stuff here links to my YouTube and patreon

https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC6.....1HTbgxVMDLU1eA

[qualityempathshoebear]

2022, a crashing rollercoaster

Hey you,

its been a while. Ok yeah, maybe a little more than "a while". The year is over, and i think its time to reflect. But first, let me catch you up on everything thats happened since I last came on here.

Im still in Leeds, and will realistically stay here until I leave for University. Youre probably wondering what happened, why im not in Singapore. Well... my dads job didnt think he had enough experience, so what was supposed to be a delay, turned into a cancellation. So I have basically had to go to a school i wasnt supposed to be at in the first place, for a whole half-year. It was absolutly horrible and I had no friends. There were three (sometimes four) nice girls who I would sit with during snack and lunch. But it was almost always just us sitting in silence or me going on the computer in front of me, so I didnt look like an absolute fucking loser. I would go on VG and read the news every day and must have looked like such a loner to the people behind me. The girls were nice, but I didnt feel like we ever got to know eachother, I felt so fake the entire time.

And dont get me fucking started on the morning forms. I fucking hated coming in there just to sit in awkward silnce while staring ahead. And those horrible meditation sessions that the form tutor would do. I would just sit there with my hands in my lap, hoping for it to end. The girl sitting next to me was nice tho. I think she could tell I wasnt enjoying myself. I can honestly say I had no friends in that place, and that it was single-handedly the worst school experience I had ever had. And I know parts of it was my fault. I wasnt willing to make friends because everything felt so temporary. Even being in England still does. But wait, why are you talking in past tense? Im happy you asked. You see, I begged my dad to send an email to IB headquarters and ask to get the official copy of my diploma so I can apply directly into college (Englands equivalnce to highschool), without having to take their middle school exam (because fuck that!). And it luckily arrived on the last day of chistmas break... so I dropped out.

The plan now is that im going abroad to stay with my aunt until september, because I honestly just cant deal with staying in this horribly sad country. Everything about it is sad. The weather, the food, the disgustinly chlorinated water, the people, the buildings, even their fucking buildings are sad. I just cant fucking deal with it, It so similair to back home. No, its ven worse here. What was even the point of moving.

I have been so incredibly stressed because of the whole situation and its really taken a tole on me. I have had so much anxiety, to the point where I cant even sleep at night without panicking. Im constantly tired, I have lost so much weight, I have a breast infection in both my breasts (to be fair, I did have it before coming here), im depressed, and honestly, a little sui*idal.

To make matters worse, my parents have become religous freaks. And its definelty not helping that my mom has befriended some super religous woman, with the same background as us. Theyre making me do some weird post-menstruation shower ritual every fucking month (yes, theyve been tracking my period, gross!). Dont get me wrong, I dont actually end up doing them. I protest for a while and then I lie and pretend like ive done it. Around two weeks ago my dad came to my room to tell me to do the ritual, and I told him I couldnt because I was sick (and i actually was). Long story short, he didnt believe me and started yelling at me. I told him he was pressuring me into becoming religious. He freaks out and basically threatens me and pushes me (at some point even yanking my phone out of my hands, saying hes going to take it from me). All this while my mom watches and doesnt do anything besides saying my dads name and grabbing his arm every now and them. She even left at some point, but made sure to come back to gaslight and guiltrip me. I told her that if anyone touched me ever again I would call the cops immidielty. I havent really spoken to dad since. Its honestly really strained the relationship with my parents, and its making me realise that we will never have a normal relationship. In some ways I wish I could just be religous so I could save myself the anger, stress, and constant fighting with my parents. But whenever I give the idea further thought, I cringe. Even religion is ruined for me because of them. I feel that I shouldnt be religous, as revenge. The only way I could ever see myself becoming religous, is if I married a muslim man, and he helped me heal from all this fucking trauma. But I dont think I will do that. The only upside is that he wouldnt leave me, because of the stigma of divorce in muslim communities. But heck, I honestly just want to be loved. As gross and sappy as that sounds.

This year was supposed to be filled with laughs, new starts, new frienships, money, and much more. And instead I got none of it. I dont know, maybe this is what I deserve. Its safe to say that 2022 was my worst year yet. There were some highs, but mostly lows. Real fucking lows.

Im honestly just happy that I get to leave this wet-red brick country (even if its just temporarly), and hopefully in the meantime, my dad will get a job somewhere else so we can leave. If not, University is my only way out.

Now youre pretty much all cought up with whats worth to be cought up on. Before I leave, Ill share my new years resolutions and what I hope to focus on in 2023.

New years resolutions:

-Drink 2L of water a day, Gain weight, Workout once a week, Grow finger and toe nails, start daily journal, Grow hair and repair hairline, Get a new hobby, Grow eyebrows and eyelashes, Read 3 books, Solve Cains Jawbone, Clear skin, and to watch a musical live.

And in 2023 I hope to repair (as much as possible) my mental and physical health.

That would be all for now, until next time! <3

[luwupercal]

what websites i think the primarchs would use

under the cut bc it got long whoops. ive done this post several times before im fairly sure but i think its fun to reiterate old concepts to see how youve changed

lion: youtube. he turns on the camera and then just talks for like 10 minutes about an opinion he has and it inevitably unravels into saying way more about lion than he means to and then he edits it on windows movie editor w the powerpoint transitions and what not and then he posts it and he gets 30 views of dudes going hell yeah bro i feel this

fulgrim: known youtuber who got popular w gen Z on tiktok but also he has a twitter where he says shit that gets him canceled every couple of years

perturabo: niche forums. steam workshop. pinterest also

khan: reddit actually but like the chill surface level parts. like he'll be on the subs where they post interesting things and he doesn't comment anywhere like he doesn't look at the comments section even but he upvotes jpegs he likes. he's also never getting a twitter

leman: instagram. blurry gross pics but he has like a bunch of followers bc he posts working out stuff and survivalism/naturalism shit and wolves and also thirst traps. he follows a bunch of accounts of people posting pets and gym stuff and whatever else, and also a like 19 year old 5 foot 2 art student whos 90 pounds soaking wet and got into a brainrot of illustrating dramatic wolf jpegs and handsome anime werewolf dogboys due to a canine warriorcats ripoff theyre writing in their head that tickled lemans fancy bc he feels like they captured something inherent about werewolves correctly. and the 19 year old notices like a month later that leman russ is following them and they freak out and all their friends go "SHOOT YOUR SHOT SEDUCE HIM" and they dont but one time they get a little drunk and dm him and leman doesnt see it for like 7 months and the art student is like, oh i guess he didnt like the message. but then leman sees it and goes "haha how did i miss this i love your art little one would it be alrite if i commissioned you for a portrait of freki and geri" and the artist wakes up in the middle of the night to see a two hour old fresh message from leman russ. he becomes a vague internet acquaintance of theirs for a while. this got away from me sorry

rogal: gets beaten to death in the twitter qrts regularly

konrad: has a nokia phone and no computer. it's for the best

sanguinius: tiktok. i will not be elaborating

ferrus: also youtube. body health and household object repairs, ranging from macbooks to cars. gets picked up by a... circa pre-ban 2018 ish Wholesome tumblr post as a wholesome youtube channel and experiences a mild surge of subs from it. fulgrim tries to get him into tiktok but he immediately gets super mad at a dumb tiktok diskhorse or comment or whateves and gets slapped with toxicity allegations he's quite literally never beating

angron: if you gave angron a computer hed look up google dot com boob search and click on images

guilliman: also gets beaten to death on twitter but his fellow blue check havers come to defend him and it causes a "leaking at walmart"-tier e-incident for someone who's defending him

mortarion: "4chan is like mostly a pretty normal place actually the worst just kinda gets out more"

magnus: ex tumblr user who went to twitter after the dec 2018 purge. engages in copious discourse all of which he shares with perturabo who isn't listening to him but is nodding like he is. yeah of course he agrees about the elf politics in that one videogame magnus what gave you an impression otherwise (<-monotonely said) now please can you continue proofreading this like super advanced space calculus to build a wedding appropriate death ray

horus: instagram influencer and youtuber. deeply pr*blematic but has like the masc equivalent of makeup palettes out that are like really good so people buy them and then say they disavow him. got invited to game gr*mps once in like 2019

lorgar: wattpad

vulkan: reddit and tiktok specifically

corvax: tumblrina. idk if in a neil gaiman way or if he gets into disc*rse himself but there's definitely disc*rse around him

alpharius omegon: eastern european steam piracy forums

[thebigcomed0wn]

so glad you asked 

note that a few of these might have been more accurate not laying down but they were really unclear suspended in the air so i did my best kind of. also i wont make u scroll through the whole post so the rest not shown are under the cut

SNIPER: 1/10. my guy looks like a solid panini with a slight dip in his actual legs. like gumby. no bones motherfucker took 5 minutes to actually get like this because he keeps wiggling out of his own body. the most of a solid, continuous shape ive ever seen in my life

DEMO: i would have showed his face but it was completely drained of blood so i felt bad. 3/10 hes trying and it is better than the other two. all of his mass went straight to his chest like johnny bravo 

ENGIE: 4/10, his ass isnt as triangular as demo, who you can see shedding like a reptile on the bottom right, king im so sorry they made you white

MEDIC: ????/10 i couldnt move his coat but im of the impression hes secretly bad under the actual coat like the tiktok of the guy saying my mom said i wasnt allowed to burn trash and then hes caked up, i think medic is like that, but i am a silly guy on the internet so feel free to stone me 

HEAVY: i couldnt get him to sit straight. no matter what. laying down or sitting up his chest cavity would jsut collapse. giving him a 5/10 for posterity. hes strutting. 

SPY: 0/10 thats so sad its like someone ran over him with one of the carts while he was out playing golf like the rich old man he is. deducting one more point for the fact hed play golf. -1/10 

SCOUT: 3.5/10 for the curvature, i think spy being like that ^ and his mom being like That just absolutely canceled out, id give him another point for potential but he doesnt really deserve it. big slappy

honorary mention for merasmus who crashed my game when i loaded him in but the last thing i saw was how fucking large his model is

haha you thought i was done, no, there is one merc left unraveled. in the year of our lord the merc with arguably the most cake.

PYRO: 10/10 look at this mfer and how they arch their back they know they beat every guy in this desert by miles fuckin look at this sick ass pyro tf2 and their EPIC CAKE pyro tf2 the BADDEST BITCH IN THE DUST BOWL huddah huddah amirite fellas good lord 

[paladin-of-nerd-fandom65]

If I may…

The Following is what I would’ve done with Nightwing in the period Post-Forever Evil yet Pre-Rebirth:

- First of All, Both Published and Unpublished versions of Nightwing #30 that we did get and supposedly finales to the Nightwing book get are scrapped right then and there, why? Because neither are going to be the finale to this book. In fact, the book is not getting cancelled at all, Issue #30 would be a jumping-on issue instead. On that note…

- My version of Nightwing Vol 3 #30‘s plot concerns a Press Conference called by Wayne Enterprise, with Dick Grayson himself doing the speaking. In long story short, Dick confirms that he is Nightwing and reports of his supposed death in the events of Forever Evil are over exaggerated. He lets the Public and the rest of the Superheroes know he’s perfectly okay and he’s resuming his Nightwing duties. When inevitability asked about his connection with Batman and that guy’s secret identity, Dick clarifies by saying Batman is actually just a close confidant of Bruce Wayne and him (in manner like how say for the longest time at the marvelous competition, Tony Stark claims Iron Man was his bodyguard) who trained him as Robin which eventually led to his transition to Nightwing years later.

- Whem asked about what he’ll do now that secret identity is public, Dick announces that with his stock in Wayne Enterprises, he’ll officially restart Batman Inc, only now renamed to Nightwing Inc. with a similar premise: Training, Equipment and Funding of various Nightwing-esqué crime fighters around the globe. Behind the scenes, after much pressing and standing his ground verbally, Dick convinced Bruce to allow such a thing on the condition he’s able to successfully cover and protect the rest of the Batfamily’s secret identities.

- As for his core staff of this new venture (I.e. his core supporting cast from this issue onward), they will act as his crime fighting team whom if they have secret identities of their own, they’ll maintain:

Koriand’r of Tamaran aka Starfire (acknowledging her suit change and escapades in her solo book going on at the same time)

Barbara Gordon as Batgirl (Keeps the Burnside suit but maintains her characterization under Gail Simone)

Calvin Rose aka Talon, and

Mary Turner aka Strix

- Nightwing Inc.’s Headquarters would be in Bludhaven, in particular a tower within Downtown with a Nightwing emblem akin to Marvel’s Baxter Building.

- As for recurring antagonists Dick and his team will face, I’d favor Deathstroke, Blockbuster, the Court of Owls and Lex Luthor, especially the latter two given their unique connections they have with Dick as of then and the potential that can be used for conflict.

- Speqking of the Court, other than probably Kory and Babs, the strongest interaction throughout this hypothetical portion of the Nightwing run would be between Dick, Strix and Calvin given the fact all three, while differing in personas, all in common are the Talons that escaped the clutches of the Court so imagine such for storytelling potential and bonding between the three.

- As for writing and artistic duties; if Kyle Higgins can remain on board, I allow him and other than the set up described above, I’ll allow him a great amount of creative control*. If not, then I’d hire either James Tynion IV, Gail Simone, Jeff Lemire, Paul Dini, or Peter Tomasi. For artwork, I commission Meghan Hetrick for most issues. One issues Hetrick cannot fulfill, they’ll go to either Eddy Barrows or Guillem March.

* As for romantic issues, if Mr Higgins (or any of the writers) pair up Dick with Kory, Wonderful. If Dick and Barbara (or any other love interest), while not my favorite at all, I’d respect it and allow it. All that being said though….NO MATTER WHO DICK ENDS UP WITH, LIVE TRIANGLES ARE ABSOLUTE HARD NO. A love triangle will diminish our reader base in the long run due to its cheap usage but also be tantamount to character assassination to all involved within it. So, NO LOVE TRIANGLES PLEASE.

All the above would be more or less my status quo with Nightwing Post-Forever Evil until inevitably his secret identity is restored.

Just a few thoughts I have. If you have any opinions or criticisms about all the above, Please Reblog/Reply. I’m more than happy to hear from you ;-)

@fuyunoakegata, @bigskydreaming, @meara-eldestofthemall, @romanticism-is-maudlinism, @northoftheroad @fireflyxrebel-writes @lightdusk96 @nightwings-bussy

[seravph]

Hi, I didn't really know who to reach out for this question, but do you have any tips on how to find your own unique fashion style? I'm not really looking to hop on popular clothing trends on social media e.g. eboy/girl or cottagecore, so I'm not exactly sure where to start! I come to consult you because I've seen some of your posts and you look very well versed in fashion and you seem to know your own personal style. My wardrobe is very outdated and I would like to update it to reflect the truest expression of myself. Thank you 😊 You don't have to answer this if you don't feel like doing so btw 😅

EEEE more fashion asks i love these thank you!!!! warning this got a lil (very) long so its under the cut :^)

so first and foremost the most important part about curating your own style is to learn more about your body and what flatters/doesnt flatter it. it's learning some basic fashion 'rules' pertaining to proportions, cuts, etc. there are plenty of resources on this if you dont know where to start (kibbe body test, video, video) but keep in mind this step has nothing to do with your weight!!!! i could talk wayyy more about this but at the end of the day, some clothing is just more flattering for specific body shapes - that doesnt mean you cant wear something that isnt perfectly flattering, but knowing your body and knowing what flatters it will make you understand your own style and help guide the pieces you buy. fashion 'rules' arent necessarily meant to be followed, but just understood so that 'breaking' them is a conscious choice. (it also really helped with my insecurities???? like this step is basically recognizing that its not your body thats unflattering, its the clothing, if that makes sense???)

also remember that every 'style' works for every body type. i.e if you want to be a 60s vibe but youre too curvy for shift dresses, there are plenty of clothes in a similar style that would look great on you <3 basically, if you dont like the way a piece looks on you, you can still achieve the same vibe with a different article of clothing thats more flattering. but also umm.... you can just wear the unflattering thing if you want LOL if it makes you happy... then it becomes your own controlled decision <3 live love laugh follow your heart

okay. now that you have that out of the way. there are a million ways to develop a sense of style, and no particular order in which i recommend them. what i love doing is creating pinterest boards for the spring/summer or fall/winter seasons and just filling them with pieces i would wear in a perfect world. i dont mean like cottagecore aesthetic boards, just boards full of runway looks and clothing pngs that i like. i also love making little outfits for characters which can influence my own style. everyone thinks of their style differently; i think of my own outfits as little vignettes with narratives behind them, but other people are more concerned with just wearing things they think are pretty, other people view it as an expression of art or their identity, and other people just want to feel comfortable!!! its all up to you and what youre drawn to!!

one thing that tan france mentioned once was to go online window shopping by going onto the website for a brand you like (regardless of whether its affordable or realistic!) and just adding things to your cart that youre interested in. dont worry about how expensive they are or anything, and when youre done, remove all the items you like the least. and then keep reviewing and removing until you have just a handful of really nice items you really like, and keep doing this with other brands until you can identify common threads between the pieces you like. you dont have to buy them!! in fact maybe its better if you dont!!! and the websites dont have to be like zara or h&m ... go on balmain or chanel if you want, play pretend and have fun!!

re: the last bullet point, i think a big turn off for people in terms of fashion is the idea that you need to wear something palatable and 'appropriate.' its like looking at a runway and thinking "its nice, but i would never wear that in real life." but honestly????? in a perfect world i would be wearing full gowns to the supermarket!!!! if your ideal style is imaginative but unattainable, your style in practice will be a microcosm of it. basically... dream big... dont be afraid to 'overdress' if its what you like!! one of the best pieces of advice i ever got was from my aunt, who offered to by me a plastic tiara. i asked her when i was ever going to wear it irl, and she just looked at me and said "??? you can wear it whenever you want to!!" so true!!! wear a tutu to mcdonalds. wear a bedazzled tux to prom. who cares

accessories, nail polish, hair, jewelry, perfume and makeup goes a long way in developing style. i dont wear a ton of makeup, but just putting some color on my cheeks achieves a kind of sunkissed lovestruck vibe that i strive for. i paint my nails red because i think its chic or bright colors so they contrast with a toned down outfit. even wearing no accessories is an accessory in itself. accessorizing (or specifically not accessorizing) is like adding texture to an outfit imo

anything that advises you about 'absolutely necessary essentials everyone needs' is entirely wrong. there is no one size fits all; i.e everyone says you need one good pair of denim jeans, but i havent worn jeans in two years!!! an essential for ME is a pair of neutral wool shorts, but an essential for another person could be a thick knit sweater or for another person, a flannel. the idea that everyone needs a 'little black dress' or a 'basic white t shirt' is preposterous. YOUR essentials depend entirely on YOUR style. a pair of denim jeans is useless if you hate wearing jeans!!!!

as for my personal style, im mostly influenced by movies, books, songs, characters, feelings, colors, high fashion, and costumes. ultimately, you should worry less about what you want to be and worry more about what you already like. every piece i have kind of plays into some narrative ive constructed, or otherwise theyre all special to me :) if you want to update your wardrobe, dont feel the need to over consume fast fashion (or any fashion for that matter) to do so. if you take it slow and buy pieces you really love, every item will have a story and you'll begin to develop a more stable internal style and they'll last longer :)

let me know if you have questions or want me to talk more about any of this because i really love answering these kinds of questions!!!!!! especially the body type thing because thats such an important but long winded thing i couldnt really fit it all LOL

some more videos + resources about style and fashion i think are interesting:

deep dive into kibbe body types

pinterest aesthetics, fatphobia, and white washing

lies about clothes to unlearn in your twenties

studio ghibli: how clothing shapes identity

breakfast at tiffanys style analysis: the reinvention of onself with fashion

will the millennial aesthetic ever end?

go viral, post #spon, get canceled: how social media transformed fashion in the 2010s

analyzing the "is it a cute outfit or is she just skinny?" meme