#might just also post old art i’ve never posted to fill up days i don’t draw!

[lovelandfrogman]

hmmm i may try to design/draw a blaseball character every day of october.. anyone wanna send me requests?

[mvltisstuff]

hello again, i’ve requested a few times (the feels and sweet nothing) and i was hoping i could request again? (i think i might add an emoji at the end bc i love your writing and will keep requesting as much as you allow ❤️❤️) anyway, i hope you’re doing well and things are going good.

i was wondering if i could request a buck fic where is partner is an artist and he finds a sketchbook of sketches of him and when he asks about it they talk about how pretty he is and how deserves to be appreciated and just making him feel super loved with it. thank you if you get to it and ofc no troubles if you don’t. take care 🥰

also is 🚒 good for a way to recognize me??

wasteland, baby! - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

a/n: omg you always have such creative ideas! i love receiving requests so always feel free :)) 🚒 = ❤️‍🔥 i also won’t be posting as frequently for the next few weeks due to finals, but after that i’ll be posting a ton!!

buck had come over to y/n’s apartment after his shift for dinner, and the scent of thick acrylic paint and primer had stung at his nostrils. he began to love the smell, as he knew that it meant she was around. he had let himself in with his key, taking in all of the perfectly placed plants and artwork on the walls.

she had a canvas that was almost complete, with just a few finishing touches. buck had walked over to it to examine. her talent was extraordinary. he knew it was out of this world, and the way she was so proud of her pieces his made his heart swell up with love.

“hi, buck!” y/n says, beginning to walk out of the hallway from her room to her art. she was wearing a pair of dark green pants and a white t-shirt which somehow complimented her beautifully. her face had small specks of blue and red on her cheeks and black and grey streaks on her shirt. “sorry it’s such a mess in here, but doesn’t this look great?”

“no, don’t worry about the mess, but how long did that take? it’s amazing!” buck stutters a big, not being able to comprehend how art like that could come out of her hands.

“thank you, love,” she replies, taking his belongings and placing them down for him. “how was work today? anything good?”

“just a normal old day, but you know it’s the 118.”

“it is never normal at the 118,” y/n smiles and gives him a cheek kiss before going to wipe her face off. buck goes to sit down in her living room on the couch, and she follows behind him with a quick change of shirt. she placed a small pizza in the oven to cook for them, and cuddled up next to him while they told each other stories about their day.

“it was wild, y/n,” buck starts. “i mean this woman literally rose from the dead after like 15 minutes, after being under a street. oh! you’re going to love this- and we saved some puppies in a sewer.”

“oh my god, are they ok?”

“they’re all fine, but i’m not sure if we are right now.”

“what do you mean?” she asks, slowly and carefully.

“you don’t smell something burning?”

she takes a deep inhale and looks over to her smokey kitchen. it wasn’t too bad, but definitely enough to make it inedible. “shit! fuck, i forgot about it!” she says, bouncing the pan up and down while trying not to burn herself.

y/n was busy discarding of the pizza when buck looked over at her with joy. he had a cheeky smile on his face and was laughing at the forgetfulness of both of them. he looked back down in front of him and the coffee table, and he saw a book that y/n always has on her. she brings it to work, to her family, anywhere she goes, she has it. it was her beloved sketchbook, filled with hundreds of small doodles and big pieces. buck has seen a lot of things in it, admiring each one before he comes across a bookmarked section.

when he flips the pages of the book, he notices that the person that is sketched and shaded looks particularly familiar. he makes note of the sharp nose and soft, but hard jaw. he sees the famous birthmark on the side of his face. he’s never looking right on, though. he’s always focused on something or has a light grin on his face. buck knows these are of him, but he doesn’t think he had any importance to be the top drawing in her book.

y/n walks back in to greet her boyfriend, “i think we might just have to ord-“ she looks at the sketches that she had put on that paper. a heat rose up into her face, reddening her cheeks and making her feel a sense of embarrassment.

“a-are these me?” buck asks, quietly. y/n nods, slowly, praying that she didn’t make him uncomfortable and that she will see him again tomorrow. “i-um..”

“you don’t have to say anything, buck. i never meant for you to see those and if you don’t like them, i’ll never do it again i swear. you just, you’re so beautiful, buck. and i love to draw beautiful things.”

“i just don’t know what to say, these are so good. i feel like you know me more than i know myself,” he says, chuckling a bit.

“you like ‘em?”

“i love them,” buck says.

“good, i just couldnt stop myself. you are always so pretty, no matter what and i want you to know that, so i tried to convey it through this. i was going to show you eventually, but i wanted to do more.”

“why me, though? you could draw anyone,” buck asks.

“no one else is you! you might have a pretty face and all but there is really nothing more beautiful than your soul. you are filled with so much love and sweetness and i’ve been dying to find a way to show you, because you are loved, evan. i love you and i wanted to put my two favorite things together. not a day goes by where i have anything but love for you.”

suddenly, the feeling in bucks chest is rising stronger, feeling like it’s going to burst. when it does, he has strong riptides of tears in his eyes. with a pure smile on his face, he passionately leaves a kiss on her lips, and he feels loved for the first time.

growing up, his parents never showed him love. he always begged for it from everyone he knew, and now he feels like it isn’t deserved. but someone, y/n made him feel like he will forever be worthy of love. and he will never forget how she fixed him for the best.

[rocksandmirrors]

this is something i wrote a couple weeks ago based on the second art of this post i've made, but i didn't feel like posting it on ao3. hope you enjoy!! the wonderful @sapphic--kiwi inspired me to write this, make sure to check out her blog as well <3 she's a very talented artist and writer

also watch out for body issues and internalized fatphobia

Matt couldn’t stand to see his reflection anymore.

He should have seen it coming, though; with all the work he had been doing for the last years, and being able to eat his fill every day, it was obvious he would gain weight. Yet, now that he stared at himself in the mirror, all he could see was the extra pounds that didn’t have to be there. He knew this was silly, but an immature part of him hoped he could have looked like these constructionist witches in the shows he watched, attractive and shaped like a V.

Grimacing, he pinched a bulge on his stomach and let out a groan. He hated looking like this, especially when he was so skinny just a couple years ago. Maybe he could skip breakfast, just for today. He wasn’t that hungry anyway.

Shaking his head to try and think about something else, Matt reached out to the cabinet above the sink until he saw Augustus’ reflection in the mirror, leaning against the door frame with his arms crossed. He froze as they locked eyes, and he prayed he hadn’t seen too much of him wallowing in his misery.

“Hey,” he mumbled, finally opening the cabinet to grab his hairbrush. “Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Nah.” Matt heard footsteps behind him, and a few seconds later, felt a pair of arms around his waist, as well Augustus’ warmth against his back, and his chin on his shoulder. “You’re up earlier than usual.”

“Eh, I just woke up and couldn’t fall back asleep. Figured I could get prepared for work, at least.”

Augustus’ hands wandered around his stomach and hips- areas of his body that he hated more than anything- and he repressed the urge to push them away. Instead, he started brushing his hair, slowly, untying all the knots one by one. He had two hours left before leaving, might as well take his time.

“Matty, are you okay?” he asked, slumber still staining his voice.

“M’yeah. Sort of.” When he met Augustus’ eyes again through the mirror, he sighed. “No, not really.”

“I know. I saw you.”

Yeah, he figured as much. His fiance had that talent for always being at the wrong place, at the wrong time. He put his hairbrush down next to the sink, still staring at their reflections.

“Of course you saw me. There’s nothing else to see about me but… this,” he added, disgust dripping in his tone.

“Don’t talk about yourself like that.”

“Like what? Like I became fucking ugly? Someone here has to, because you sure as hell aren’t doing it.”

Matt was getting worked up over pretty much nothing and arguing with a brick wall; he knew that, yet couldn’t help it. Just thinking about the way his body had changed over the last years made him feel miserable and fall back into his old self-deprecating ways, aggressive towards someone who didn’t ask for it.

“You’re not ugly,” Augustus argued, leaving a peck on his jaw. “You’ve never been.”

“Augustus, you don’t need to rub me up the right way. I know I’ve changed, I mean- you’ve seen me at seventeen, look at me now! I was in much better shape back then!”

“Were you?”

“Do you really need me to make an illusion of my old self to compare?” He asked, arching an eyebrow.

Augustus shook his head, his hands still rubbing the parts of his body he hated the most. Matt just wanted this conversation to end, to go on about his day and shove that brief moment of vulnerability into a corner of his mind so he could forget about it. As much as he hated his current appearance, he never intended for his lover to listen to him vent about his body issues first thing in the morning.

“Matt, you had nothing to eat as a teen, of course you were skinnier. Hell, I’ve seen you digging through trash at school just to have lunch.”

“Yeah, but-”

“You’ve grown up. You’re doing a lot more physical work, and like it or not, you can’t keep your teen body all your life.” One of Augustus’ hands moved up to his torso. “If you really want to lose weight someday, I’ll support you, but I want you to know I also love how you look right now, because you’re just as healthy and handsome. Frankly, I’m happy to see you like this.”

Matt’s breath got stuck in his throat, and his eyes widened at these words. He knew Augustus tended to be clingier than usual whenever he lacked some sleep, but he still needed to get used to all the praise that came with it.

“I don’t really see it,” he admitted with a shrug.

“That’s okay. I don’t expect you to get over this right away.” The younger witch left another kiss, this time at the nape of his neck, and a shiver ran down his spine. “But trust me, if you could see yourself the way I see you, you’d marry yourself in a heartbeat.”

Matt could feel- and see- all the blood rushing to his face, and suddenly, the warm hands wandering on his body didn’t bother him as much- they felt loving, tender, worshiping every part of the body he still struggled to accept as it was. He leaned into Augustus, still standing behind him, and the arms around him wrapped themselves tighter.

“Are you feeling any better?” He asked.

“I… Yeah, actually. Thanks, babe.”

“No problem.” Augustus left one last peck on the shell of his ear before stepping back, and Matt immediately missed his warmth. “Since we’re both awake, I’m gonna make some coffee. Do you want some?”

“You know it.” Matt turned around to face him, offering him a tired smile. “Let me make you breakfast, yeah?”

“Don't worry, I’m not touching any pans in this kitchen,” he yawned as he left the bathroom.

Matt watched his fiance walk away, then turned back to his reflection. Half of his hair had been brushed, the bags under his eyes were a little more prominent than usual, contrasting with his crimson face, and his shirt was a little crinkled from where Augustus had been touching him. He pinched a bulge on his stomach again, poking at the fat here and there with a faint smile.

Maybe he could indulge in breakfast today.

[haptronym]

Hey!! This is the anon from a while back who had that convo with you about quirkless discrimination with your cannon vs fannon posts. The one who sent a way too long ask haha.

I still haven’t picked back up BNHA, just still dinking around in the earlier seasons with my writing after dropping it so long ago due to the exact reason you outlined; I stopped watching due to a certain character stagnating while saying they’re changing. Which I find amusing how prevalent that problem is in so many arcs that it’s the reason I stopped watching the show actual years ago (though not solely, it was that + a combination of other things with that arc but it really exasperated it) and you’re now talking about the same exact issue for the end of it. I don’t even feel like I can say it’s due to external pressures rather then just a weak point of the writer at this point tbh.

But, besides that, on the topic of why I initially started this ask, I just wanted to say it’s interesting to hear the story has still done squat with quirklessness, really goes to show the whole glaring divide in exactly what we where talking about so long ago. Full circle kinda?? It really is such a shame the show never went into it and kinda failed to scratch the surface of anything with how compelling it would have been and how easily it could have tied into the whole of the series’ themes.

But hey, like you said, there’s always fanfics. Just thought I’d send in an ask about it since it was fun talking to you about it last time.

Now that it’s over, I might give the show another shot, for old times sake, we’ll see!

Oh as an add on, as the fannon vs cannon anon, I do want to put a note that since I haven’t seen the thing myself I’m not making too strong opinions on it or agreeing with everything in that post, just contemplating the specific stuff I talked about in that previous anon ask as a sort of now outsider to the series.

This isn’t a “oh you’re wrong!” but making sure people know I’m not blindly following things I’ve read about a series rather then forming opinions around it from first hand cannon, HA! I’ll do that when I maybe start watching it again…one day…

-

(The post under discussion)

Hello again! Glad you're still enjoying the fandom space and haha, it's ironic that this issue is why you dropped the show. I'm also going to caveat that I'm not trying to dunk on Horikoshi or be a bitter hater. The issues I'm bringing up are par for the course for most serial writing, way harder to avoid than they seem. I really liked MHA overall and have huge respect for Horikoshi's writing, art, and ability to keep his sanity while bringing this behemoth to life.

Anyway, a response.

I mentioned a few aspects where quirklessness got brought in later in the story, but overall, yeah, it still felt kind of… vestigial. To me it felt like the author threw it out there at first thinking it was a cool idea, then later went "ugh, shit, that's not actually where I want to focus. I can't retcon it, so let's just... minimize it and move on." A lot of times when big series start, they toss out a whole bunch of possible story hooks and then narrow down to just a few that they're actually going to spend serious time on... anyone who gets hooked on a premise that doesn't end up being developed further can be left feeling disappointed.

I suspect this is exactly the reason why MHA has such a giant fandom. The show's clown-car cast means that pretty much no character really gets "deep" treatment. Instead we get 1,000 tantalizing flashes of really, really cool possibilities. We get sucked in by an awesome idea, get frustrated when the cool character/premise barely gets touched again after that, and then feverishly fill the empty space with fanfic and fanart. (I'm lucky that my favorites, Izuku and All Might, were about the most main of main characters, and even they felt somewhat shallow. I can't imagine the agony of being, say, a Momo fan.)

Unfortunately when a story does this, it also means that it's inevitably going to disappoint its fanbase. It tossed out 1,000 awesome ideas but it only has space to cultivate a small handful of those into proper plotlines… not only is it sad to see all the unused plot threads peter out, but usually the realized story ends up outright contradicting at least a few very popular fan theories and hopes. This doesn't mean the story's bad, far from it. But in these weekly-chapter stories where fans have years or decades to get attached to their interpretations and predictions, praying each week that yes, it seems like a long shot, but maybe the story will veer off into X… things quickly spiral into enormous bitterness when those decades of hope are finally snuffed out for good. (This same phenomenon makes me dread the eventual end of One Piece…)

MHA had a lot of people going "it's not like other shonen!" because it had lots of promising ideas. But it turned out that… yes, it is just another shonen. Shonen are tons of fun, and I love MHA overall. But man, it got hit hard by those high expectations.

I was a bit harsh (and incorrect) in my post, saying Izuku/All Might haven't changed at ALL, and that quirklessness meant NOTHING. It gets outright confusing when there are characterization backsies like the ones I described. Which is canon: the single panel where a character says "quirklessness is a big deal to me!" or the way that every other character behavior and plot point screams "sure doesn't seem like it"? They're both real. And this discrepancy depends on the reader's interpretation too: I'm extremely picky about characterization, while someone less anal might not see any contradiction at all. So we get All Might fans insisting that the show made quirkless issues into a huge enormous part of the plot/characters, and meanwhile I don't see it, and get annoyed and preachy because it feels like the narrative is being unfairly ascribed depth and profundity that I really wanted but never actually saw from it. How dare!

ANYWAY, I highly recommend checking out the rest of the show. I have a feeling the final arc is going to look amazing in animated form once it's finally done. The final section is a combo of delightfully over-the-top shonen insanity and surprisingly weighty outcomes. We can debate whether it really earned those outcomes, but I'm at least pleased that it tried.

[vaguely-concerned]

zeblue sketch dump

here we go! :) this will go long because I Love them

I personally think of Blue’s glasses as less of the conventional nerd kind, more of the insufferable tech bro vibe. He IS a nerd but he’s also a scammer trying to get you to think it’s a sound financial investment to buy his cryptocurrency

God I wish I was more interested in/better at drawing clothes and fashion, because the idea of Blue wearing Aava hand-me-downs is one of the greatest mental images I’ve ever incepted myself with and I don’t think I can ever do it justice. + obligatory blue's dumbass jester my beloved

The Most important version of fullly armoured knight zero that I unforgivably forgot to include in my original post

Introducing Nephili ‘Neph’ Ax-Vel, one of the Force-sensitive kids that I invented for my ever-fixed mark ‘verse! Featuring an omwati redesign because the idea behind the species seemed so cool and yet what little art there is looks like uh… just humans with 80s hair and that was Not It for me. 

She is incredibly interested in technology and is showing signs of integrating her connection to the Force in that, exactly as Aava was so interested to see someone do! However (the monkey’s paw curls for Aava) Blue is her absolute favorite adult in the whole world, for unknowable reasons. (It probably comes down to them having some ineffable yet powerful autism2autism communication going on; he is surprisingly non-awful with her.)   

She’s also the only one of the kids small and literally bird-boned enough for Blue to be able to carry. (Dar-Yen — who even as a little babby 10 year old besalisk is pretty solid — once made a bet with his BFF that Blue would catch him if he jumped into his arms, Brooklyn 99 meme style. This experiment ended with several bruised ribs on all sides and a stern talking to. To this day the kids argue over whether Blue at least tried to catch him before they both went down like matching sacks of potatoes, or was just trying to save his cup of caf. Reader, I think you know in your heart what the truth is there.)

Before Aava and Zero started trading off haircutting duty, Blue’s hair got pretty long, which Neph took as prime free ‘I’ll braid your hair!!!’ real estate. 

Feared lethal assassin Agent Zero play fighting with the kids and dramatically pretending to fall to their combined might is something that can actually be so personal (is so personal I guess considering I made it up for myself lol). It is partially just to be an uncle-shaped jungle gym, but also a way to sneakily train them in working as a group the way he used to when running with a pack in his youth  

*blue voice* but why did theseus seduce ariadne though. Why did he not put the moves on the minotaur instead. This seems like the more obvious and productive cause of action long-term (and I have no other horny reason to think this)

*affectionate Zero voice* you’re insane (and extremely gay) but alright I’ll be insane along with you

(I could imagine this being a real in-universe statue that got commisioned and that they'd pose for fdskajfa Zero has gone through all the stages of grief long ago when it comes to what Blue does to his libido and has arrived at the perfect Zen of 'this will awaken something in me. and that's chill we live and learn about ourselves')

:') they

(Slightly older?) Neph and Blue, and some Zeros I doodled as a means to cling on to my sanity while stuck on a train for a couple of hours. Aava is right he handsome

important information being exchanged (the fact that blue specifically calls the hired killer he employs pretty... I will never be over it what is wrong with him)

The silly stupid little arms-wide-open-in-welcome doodle of Blue in this might be my favorite thing I’ve ever drawn. He really saw bae, went :) , and it fills me with such simple delight

(there’s also a Zero looking sad on this page of my sketchbook that didn’t make it in here, but that’s the context lol)

[clovercoin]

CloverCoin Artpack 2024 March + Updates

[PATREON POST + ART PACK] Hey everyone... I see March is rounding the corner to being over and I realized I never actually make an official patreon post yet. A lot has been happening on our end / IRL. We recently found our we might need to move this summer... But thanks to a lot of back and forth between us and the new landlord we got a lease extension for 1 year to prepare our savings and safely move out to another place in town or around this town we are currently living in. After a lot of discussion between my husband and I, we're really struggling to find rental single family homes that fit our disability needs AND budget. Rent bubble in our area is about 70% more than our current rent which... is mind blowing. But we are determined! With further discussion we think we agree, we'd like to buy a house to make sure our needs are met and that we can take care of our senior dogs without having our lives uprooted without notice. So our belts are going to be really tight over the next year while we try to scrimp and save every penny to go towards our goal to purchase a house next year. That is scary but also so exciting! Wish us luck, we're going to need every lick of it to pull this off. ~~~ Other worse news... The reason why I've been struggling these past few weeks. My family has been reaching out to me and it's official. My mother has a terminal cancer diagnosis. I do not live near her, so I would like to budget a trip out to see her at some point this summer. We don't have any real time lines yet until we see how to reacts to chemo treatment. She's just started that this month. So that's been a weird tangle of emotions and talking with my siblings about what we expect out of all this. How we each can help in what ways we can. One of my older sisters is taking control of talking with the doctors and updating us since my mother is extremely avoidant about talking about her illnesses. At this time I won't be taking any time off from working and doing adopts/commissions. We need the money more than ever, even just to go fly or drive up to see her. But I will update on patreon/discord when I'm taking a week or so off to visit her. ~~~ More middling news? Our two senior dogs, Ollie and Junior, have been having little health scares this year. Feels like 2024 just started and so much has happened! Ollie has been diagnosed with a heart murmur and is on medication now to help treat it. Diet and life style changes as well to help him stay fit. Junior may have had a small seizure or stroke, for 2 days he was not able to stand or walk which really scared us. Both have been to the vet multiple times this year and are being watched VERY closely. I just hope nothing happens to them before we find them a new house to live in. (knocks on wood) ~~~ I myself am having some medical issues but... Just with everything going on I just haven't had time to assign myself with a new clinic and new gp. My new health insurance won't let me see the old one anymore and it's EXTREMELY disruptive to my whole life. So there's a chance my body might get a flat tire in the future, but I'll try to manage it accordingly. To end it all on a good note, I did finally finish my very last tooth filling / replacement and after a year and a half of constant dentist visits, my mouth is all fixed! Hooray!!!! Now we just have to tackle my jaw and TMJ problems haha. ~~~ I think... that's the big items of what's going on. Why I've been really absent online and for updates. Life just kinda had a weird downpour on us, but we're sorting it out. We signed a new lease. Prov is working very hard at his new job. The future is really scary for me right now and I'm really struggling. Please be patient with me while we go through these big life changes at this time. I'll be opening up new commission slots soon to start a monthly income to help with house savings. If anyone has pending commissions with me or trades, please never hesitate to DM me/poke me for updates. I've been a lot more disorganized more than usual lately and I am happy to give any updates or refunds as needed should anything come up that I can't handle. Sorry bout the long read everyone, but thank you so much for skimming through and keeping up with what's going on in my life. I've been desperately missing art more and more every day I spend away from it, so I look forward to sharing even more art with you all! Thank yo everyone for all your support! AJD . ART

[extraordinarilyextreme]

Yo, hello to you all, I’m Zhao Yuanzhou. Please allow me to introduce myself to everyone! I come from the Vast Plains; I’m a millennium-old great yao. I’m proficient in thousands of types of xian (immortal) spells and ten thousand kinds of yao arts, but the only thing I can’t do is heal myself. My world is dim and void of light, but I have long since grown accustomed to it. Regrets and hatred are like my shackles, forever holding me captive; it’s as if life and death have no meaning for me. I don’t want to struggle anymore. The tides of my fate should just be as is; I’ve grown tired. Until one day, I had a very beautiful and very long great dream. In that dream, I met a group of humans, shen (gods), yao… They seemed as if they were light, yet I couldn’t grasp onto them no matter what. And so, like this, began a dreamscape with no end nor future in sight. Since it was a dream anyway, since there already was no way out, then I may as well walk with them and see [what might happen]. I armed myself with a smile, used “impropriety” to assimilate with everyone; what had the me who was “getting on in years” not seen before… But it was me who overestimated my capabilities. During this period of time, there were people who wanted to “expose” my inner heart; people who wanted to “warm” my inner heart; people who continually wanted to “pierce through” my inner heart. Yet there were also people who resolved to “guard and protect” my inner heart; people who were “filling up” my inner heart. And there were also people who stayed silently behind me, “accompanying” this great demon’s inner heart. The process of being healed was both a fortune and a struggle. I found the meaning that lay within life and death, and also discovered hope. Although I had never previously understood familial affections, these “family members” suddenly gave me the idea of wanting to be a mortal. This beautiful great dream was far too realistic; it made me wish not to wake up… Thank you to the creator of this dreamscape, Director Guo Jingming. Whenever he wrote down some characters, it represented that some time passed by in my life once again. I was unwilling to believe it, because in this everyday [life] that was filled to the brim with exploration [of the unknown] and wonderful surprises, I could live my life just as I wished and free of restraint according to my will and instinct. Happiness, anger, grief, and joy—these thousands of types of experiences and ten thousand kinds of flavors all genuinely and truly existed before. Thank you to all my family members who accompanied me in this dreamscape. May the Great Dream (Zhao Yuanzhou) be clear-headed and sober, yet not wake.

from HMH's 20240219 Weibo post

Any mistakes are my own.

[wonderlandleighleigh]

Also for @aimmyarrowshigh ‘s Hanukkah Bingo:

Fic or Art/Graphic Title: Bring Extra

Author/Artist Name: WonderlandLeighLeigh

Fandom: The MCU (Alt universe where everyone lives/stay after endgame)

Jewish or Jew-Ish Character(s): Bucky Barnes

Bingo Squares Being Filled: Menorah

Rating: PG13

Warning(s): Probably language 

Link to Work: Below

It’s not a fancy menorah by any definition of the word. 

Brass and old. If you looked into the candle holes, you’d see there’s old candle wax that’s turned to dust over the last seventy-five-ish years. 

Bucky sighs heavily as he looks it over. 

“That thing’s seen better days,” Sam comments gently from the door. 

Bucky shrugs at his friends. “I don’t know the last time it was used. It was my mother’s, and before it was hers, it was her mother’s, and her mother’s, and probably even older than that,  so…” 

Sam nods, sitting next to him. “Honestly, I can’t imagine what it’s like to have a family heirloom go that far back.” 

“I’m lucky,” Bucky acknowledges. 

“You gonna use it this year?” Sam asks. “First year post-snap. Might be nice.” 

“I wasn’t really planning on celebrating,” Bucky admits, fiddling with the menorah. “Just…everyone’s still trying to put things back together after Thanos…” 

“Which is why it’s the perfect time to celebrate something,” Sam says, taking a seat next to him. “Now, come on. I’ve never celebrated Hanukkah. I had friends in the service who were Jewish, but I never got the invite.” 

Bucky chuckles softly. “Well…my mother used to make latkes,” he tells him. “And one year, my sister tried to make sufganiyot.” 

“sufgant-what?” Sam asks with a chuckle.

“Fried jelly donuts,” Bucky explains. “But she nearly burnt the apartment down.” 

Sam laughs softly. “Well, we don’t have to do that. My sister is the best cook I know aside from me, and not even she would try that.” 

“You think anyone else would wanna come?” Bucky asks warily. “I mean - aside from you and Steve. I figure most people have Christmas plans, or just might not be too interested.” 

“Bucky. You are talking about giving the Avengers things to eat,” Sam reminds him. “They’re gonna show up.” 

He huffs out an amused breath. “When you’re right, you’re right.” 

And so word gets around, and on the first night of Hanukkah, Sam’s quarters at the newly rebuilt compound are packed with Avengers.

Bucky stares, a little stunned, at everyone. At Clint and his kids, and Natasha, and Tony and Pepper and their kid. At Wanda and Vision. At Bruce and Thor. “Did I buy enough potatoes for this?” 

Sam laughs and slaps his shoulder affectionately. “Thor is here. So probably not.” 

“...Shit.” 

Steve nudges him gently. “I brought extra.” 

Bucky shakes his head and pats his shoulder. “Saving the day, as usual.”

“Wait, so what happens if you get hot oil on the arm?” Sam asks, following his friend into the kitchen.

“You’d have to ask Shuri...who just showed up. So. You’re in luck.”

Steve sets a large sack of potatoes on the counter and leans on it, next to Bucky. “You lit the candles without us.”

“I did.”

“We coulda been here for it,” Steve reminds him.

“Eh. It was nice, just bein’ me. Maybe tomorrow night.”

With that, a speck of oil flings itself from the pan, right at his flesh arm. “Christ!”

“He’s not here!” Tony calls.

“Shut up, Stark!” Bucky calls as he starts frying the already-made batter.

[radioactivebowtie]

Hey

Uh hi this is Finn here, so I know a lot of people have a lot of things to say. I’ve been reading as many people’s mourning thoughts as I can, but I also knew I would have a lot to say- I don’t even know if I’ll be able to say it all here! I might find some more words to say right after I post this as I usually do.

Inside Job was a silly little show I found last January and fell in love with. It was full of jokes and serious issues as well as some beautiful animation and there was no way I was leaving it alone anytime soon. I made a sona and fought my way through making lore that I could adore and make as show-accurate as possible.

It was hyper fixation at first sight.

After filling a literal folder within my google docs of character interactions and lore and telling as many of my friends about and watching it and re-watching it with them. I reignited my love for tumblr. I ate so much content up the moment that I knew it existed that I tried joining in!

I remember posting Finn on here and then writing character interactions with people sonas while never sharing them because I was so scared that it would be weird. I interacted with Outis first, Willie was cute and had so many fun things I could do it would go great! (I sent it to him and ran away and then like screamed when he said he liked it)

The next time I talked to someone it went better I’d say even if I was equally as terrified. Delaney, Inside Job brought me Delaney. I will never be able to thank them enough for that. Delaney is one of if not my best friends. She wrote me things when I was sad we talked daily despite having met like days before and have continued to do so up till now. She means so fucking much to me, she’s my hot fictional mom! My mon amour! My literal ride or die bestie. If I could say anything to the people of inside job I would tell them how thankful I am for letting me meet Laney.

They also brought me to the shadow council. Well the shadow council of tumblr. A group of people who I think I would kill for? They make me laugh and smile and SOMETIMES CRY BECAUSE I THEY WRITE AND DRAW SOME SAD SHIT SOMETIMES but I love them anyway. They are silly, they make some damn good art and writing and they are some of my most cherished friends. I’ve never been so happy to have friends who share my interests and support me and are so fucking cool. Thank you for accepting me into your ranks and promoting me from assistant to leader with you guys. I love you so much I will never be able to fully explain it.

A lot of people have talked about how the show helped with their mental health, it helped them through rough times and I cannot thank them enough for those same reasons. This was my comfort show, my go to. I talked about it non stop and watched it whenever I was sad, wrote and read about it when I was sad. 

I used JR to comfort myself, I didn’t expect him being my dad to become more than a joke. Something that I thought would just make for funny circumstances yknow? But this stupid old crime commiting idiot became so comforting to me- I used him to cope. He wasn’t always written the most canonically but that was never the point. I made him mean something to me. He still and will always be my dad. He will be broken out of jail to me and if I can’t then I will bring him cupcakes to eat during visitation hours.

Reagan actually helped me start looking into an autism diagnosis? I know her having autism isn’t like an uncommon thought amoungst people watching the show but it helped me feel kind of seen. I related to her in a lot of ways and was genuinely moved by her story as well as continually laughing at any joke that she made.

Andre might be the toughest for me to let go of, JR might edge him out but I think Andre might be a close second. This stupid man means so much to me- (he’s so smart I am deflecting don’t let me lie to you) at first I was so ready to just dismiss him as some funny side character. But they wrote him so well- and then they gave us the wedding episode and he hit home. He hit so fucking close to home. He had depth and it hit so close to home that it made me fall for him hook line and sinker. He was funny but he had depth and I felt like he would get me? Like sure we would have a bunch of different experiences but we could help each other out. I’ll miss him so much.

I want to thank inside job for everything, they gave me so much to look forward to and be happy about. It made me feel creative and I was so happy write and draw and figure out how to make my silly little character be in this interesting and wonderful world. Thank you to the wonderful crew for making such an amazing show that brought so many of us together.

and once again, Fuck you Netflix.

[krazys-ass-emporium]

8 Shows to know you

@j-ellyfish​ tagged me and my slow ass is finally filling this out.

1. Star Trek (Mostly TOS, but also TNG, DS9, and Voyager. Sorry, but the new stuff just doesn’t look like Star Trek to me.)

This was my first fandom I guess?? I didn’t actually interact with anyone since this is before I ventured onto the depths of the interwebs. I was 10 years old and everyone kept calling me a Vulcan because of how literal I was. I did not know what a Vulcan was but soon found out and got my grubby hands on every piece of media I could find at the local library. I probably watched every VHS and read every novel they had. Spock is still my favorite to this day. I wrote my freaking GED essay about him.

2. Redwall

I might have been even younger when I got into this than when I got into Star Trek. This is just so unknown no one knows what I’m talking about lolol. It was more the books than the show, but it has a short animated series so it still counts. I was obsessed with this. I made forts out of logs by the stream across the street from my house and swords out of wood and play-fought my brother with them.

3. Teen Titans

This was probably my segue into anime. Yes, this isn’t actually an anime, but since it incorporates anime aspects it got me used to them?? I was very into superheroes in general when I was like 12 to 15 or so, but these were my top fave. Controversial opinion: DC is better than Marvel. I made my very first OC based on Teen Titans I think she might have been partly Star Trek too lol. I also started drawing people because of this show. Before that I only drew horses and wolves.

4. InuYasha

My very first anime. It all started when I saw a manga at the library and then looked up the anime on YouTube. Ah, the memories of watching an episode in three parts and you’d never know if it would be the dub or the sub. This was the first fandom where I actually joined the interwebs and interacted with human type people. The internet in 2006 was a very different place lol. I got my first email address (which I still have lol) to join this website called Fanart Central so I could post my InuYasha fanart. I found my first online friends there too. I miss them...

5.  Pokémon

I’m not entirely sure how I managed to watch as much of this as I did, but I only gave up when I got to Alola. The original is my favorite, but I also liked some of the newer stuff too. I drew art for Pokémon too and let me tell you, it’s the most toxic hell hole of a fandom ever. I’ve never gotten flames before Pokémon, all for liking an unpopular ship lol. The internet in 2010 was the Wild West.

6. Yu-Gi-Oh!

Holy crap was I into Ygo. I still have my room covered in it lol. I still love it to bits, but I’ve calmed down a lot. I have a lot of cards too and I do know how to play, but not competitively and I don’t know anyone in person who wants to duel me :( I got into cosplay because of Ygo and made my first cosplay (Joey Wheeler) in 2013. I apparently like to suffer because Ygo cosplays are NOT easy. I made my still best friend in this fandom. Seriously, this is one of the best fandoms out there, most everyone is so nice.

7. Supernatural

(Don’t look at me, I know pfft). I can’t deny how much I like this show... it’s honestly the one I’ve rewatched the most times. I no not know why. I guess it’s just easy to binge lol. You can blame my group of gay guy friends back in 2013 for me getting into this. It’s also why I got Netflix, and tumblr. And here I still am...

8. Hetalia

Oh wow, a Hetalia blog having Hetalia on the list, weird. Got into this at the crusty old age of 28, so I don’t have the nostalgia for it like a lot of y’all. I fell hard pretty fast. I also have made way more friends than probably any other fandom I’ve been in? Probably because I stuck my head out of my shell for a bit lol.

I tag no one because I’m lazy, do it if you want and you can blame me pfft.

[uomo-accattivante]

Excellent article about bringing a re-make of Ingmar Bergman’s Scenes from a Marriage to fruition, and the twenty-year friendship that Oscar Isaac and Jessica Chastain share:

There were days on the shoot for “Scenes From a Marriage,” a five-episode limited series that premieres Sept. 12 on HBO, when Oscar Isaac resented the crew.

The problem wasn’t the crew members themselves, he told me on a video call in March. But the work required of him and his co-star, Jessica Chastain, was so unsparingly intimate — “And difficult!” Chastain added from a neighboring Zoom window — that every time a camera operator or a makeup artist appeared, it felt like an intrusion.

On his other projects, Isaac had felt comfortably distant from the characters and their circumstances — interplanetary intrigue, rogue A.I. But “Scenes” surveys monogamy and parenthood, familiar territory. Sometimes Isaac would film a bedtime scene with his onscreen child (Lily Jane) and then go home and tuck his own child into the same model of bed as the one used onset, accessorized with the same bunny lamp, and not know exactly where art ended and life began.

“It was just a lot,” he said.

Chastain agreed, though she put it more strongly. “I mean, I cried every day for four months,” she said.

Isaac, 42, and Chastain, 44, have known each other since their days at the Juilliard School. And they have channeled two decades of friendship, admiration and a shared and obsessional devotion to craft into what Michael Ellenberg, one of the series’s executive producers, called “five hours of naked, raw performance.” (That nudity is metaphorical, mostly.)

“For me it definitely felt incredibly personal,” Chastain said on the call in the spring, about a month after filming had ended. “That’s why I don’t know if I have another one like this in me. Yeah, I can’t decide that. I can’t even talk about it without. …” She turned away from the screen. (It was one of several times during the call that I felt as if I were intruding, too.)

The original “Scenes From a Marriage,” created by Ingmar Bergman, debuted on Swedish television in 1973. Bergman’s first television series, its six episodes trace the dissolution of a middle-class marriage. Starring Liv Ullmann, Bergman’s ex, it drew on his own past relationships, though not always directly.

“When it comes to Bergman, the relationship between autobiography and fiction is extremely complicated,” said Jan Holmberg, the chief executive of the Ingmar Bergman Foundation.

A sensation in Sweden, it was seen by most of the adult population. And yes, sure, correlation does not imply causation, but after its debut, Swedish divorce were rumored to have doubled. Holmberg remembers watching a rerun as a 10-year-old.

“It was a rude awakening to adult life,” he said.

The writer and director Hagai Levi saw it as a teenager, on Israeli public television, during a stint on a kibbutz. “I was shocked,” he said. The series taught him that a television series could be radical, that it could be art. When he created “BeTipul,” the Israeli precursor to “In Treatment,” he used “Scenes” as proof of the concept “that two people can talk for an hour and it can work,” Levi said. (Strangely, “Scenes” also inspired the prime-time soap “Dallas.”)

So when Daniel Bergman, Ingmar Bergman’s youngest son, approached Levi about a remake, he was immediately interested.

But the project languished, in part because loving a show isn’t reason enough to adapt it. Divorce is common now — in Sweden, and elsewhere — and the relationship politics of the original series, in which the male character deserts his wife and young children for an academic post, haven’t aged particularly well.

Then about two years ago, Levi had a revelation. He would swap the gender roles. A woman who leaves her marriage and child in pursuit of freedom (with a very hot Israeli entrepreneur in place of a visiting professorship) might still provoke conversation and interest.

So the Marianne and Johan of the original became Mira and Jonathan, with a Boston suburb (re-created in a warehouse just north of New York City), stepping in for the Stockholm of the original. Jonathan remains an academic though Mira, a lawyer in the original, is now a businesswoman who out-earns him.

Casting began in early 2020. After Isaac met with Levi, he wrote to Chastain to tell her about the project. She wasn’t available. The producers cast Michelle Williams. But the pandemic reshuffled everyone’s schedules. When production was ready to resume, Williams was no longer free. Chastain was. “That was for me the most amazing miracle,” Levi said.

Isaac and Chastain met in the early 2000s at Juilliard. He was in his first year; she, in her third. He first saw her in a scene from a classical tragedy, slapping men in the face as Helen of Troy. He was friendly with her then-boyfriend, and they soon became friends themselves, bonding through the shared trauma of an acting curriculum designed to break its students down and then build them back up again. Isaac remembered her as “a real force of nature and solid, completely solid, with an incredible amount of integrity,” he said.

In the next window, Chastain blushed. “He was super talented,” she said. “But talented in a way that wasn’t expected, that’s challenging and pushing against constructs and ideas.” She introduced him to her manager, and they celebrated each other’s early successes and went to each other’s premieres. (A few of those photos are used in “Scenes From a Marriage” as set dressing.)

In 2013, Chastain was cast in J.C. Chandor’s “A Most Violent Year,”opposite Javier Bardem. When Bardem dropped out, Chastain campaigned for Isaac to have the role. Weeks before shooting, they began to meet, fleshing out the back story of their characters — a husband and wife trying to corner the heating oil market in 1981 New York — the details of the marriage, business, life.

It was their first time working together, and each felt a bond that went deeper than a parallel education and approach. “Something connects us that’s stronger than any ideas of character or story or any of that,” Isaac said. “There’s something else that’s more about like, a shared existence.”

Chandor noticed how they would support each other on set, and challenge each other, too, giving each other the freedom to take the characters’ relationship to dark and dangerous places. “They have this innate trust with each other,” Chandor said.

That trust eliminated the need for actorly tricks or shortcuts, in part because they know each other’s tricks too well. Their motto, Isaac said, was, “Let’s figure this [expletive] out together and see what’s the most honest thing we can do.”

Moni Yakim, Juilliard’s celebrated movement instructor, has followed their careers closely and he noted what he called the “magnetism and spiritual connection” that they suggested onscreen in the film.

“It’s a kind of chemistry,” Yakim said. “They can read each other’s mind and you as an audience, you can sense it.”

Telepathy takes work. When they knew that shooting “Scenes From a Marriage” could begin, Chastain bought a copy of “All About Us,” a guided journal for couples, and filled in her sections in character as Mira. Isaac brought it home and showed it to his wife, the filmmaker Elvira Lind.

“She was like, ‘You finally found your match,’” Isaac recalled. “’Someone that is as big of a nerd as you are.’”

The actors rehearsed, with Levi and on their own, talking their way through each long scene, helping each other through the anguished parts. When production had to halt for two weeks, they rehearsed then, too.

Watching these actors work reminded Amy Herzog, a writer and executive producer on the series, of race horses in full gallop. “These are two people who have so much training and skill,” she said. “Because it’s an athletic feat, what they were being asked to do.”

But training and skill and the “All About Us” book hadn’t really prepared them for the emotional impact of actually shooting “Scenes From a Marriage.” Both actors normally compartmentalize when they work, putting up psychic partitions between their roles and themselves. But this time, the partitions weren’t up to code.

“I knew I was in trouble the very first week,” Chastain said.

She couldn’t hide how the scripts affected her, especially from someone who knows her as well as Isaac does. “I just felt so exposed,” she said. “This to me, more than anything I’ve ever worked on, was definitely the most open I’ve ever been.”

“It felt so dangerous,” she said.

I visited the set in February (after multiple Covid-19 tests and health screenings) during a final day of filming. It was the quietest set I had ever seen: The atmosphere was subdued, reverent almost, a crew and a studio space stripped down to only what two actors would need to do the most passionate and demanding work of their careers.

Isaac didn’t know if he would watch the completed series. “It really is the first time ever, where I’ve done something where I’m totally fine never seeing this thing,” he said. “Because I’ve really lived through it. And in some ways I don’t want whatever they decide to put together to change my experience of it, which was just so intense.”

The cameras captured that intensity. Though Chastain isn’t Mira and Isaac isn’t Jonathan, each drew on personal experience — their parents’ marriages, past relationships — in ways they never had. Sometimes work on the show felt like acting, and sometimes the work wasn’t even conscious. There’s a scene in the harrowing fourth episode in which they both lie crumpled on the floor, an identical stress vein bulging in each forehead.

“It’s my go-to move, the throbbing forehead vein,” Isaac said on a follow-up video call last month. Chastain riffed on the joke: “That was our third year at Juilliard, the throb.”

By then, it had been five months since the shoot wrapped. Life had returned to something like normal. Jokes were possible again. Both of them seemed looser, more relaxed. (Isaac had already poured himself one tequila shot and was ready for another.) No one cried.

Chastain had watched the show with her husband. And Isaac, despite his initial reluctance, had watched it, too. It didn’t seem to have changed his experience.

“I’ve never done anything like it,” he said. “And I can’t imagine doing anything like it again.”

###

[onyxheartbeat]

Dear HIM/Ville Valo fans,

this is a long post but I must discuss this.

________

I came across this interview of Kat Von D from a few days ago. Before I get into my thoughts, below is a passage from her old book “Go Big or Go Home” which you may or may not have read. She wrote about Ville:

________

“I only knew his music, and I loved it on first listen. It was dark and it was beautiful. It was metal and it was poetry. It was love loaded into a gun, and I wondered about the man behind the songs.  Two years later, our paths crossed, and like the majority of the connections I’ve made in life, tattooing brought us together. Through our first tattoo sessions, we began to get to know each other. For the next few years, I just thought of him as my friend from overseas, and that was all. Then, after knowing him for six years, something changed. It could have been the wine, the music, or the moon. Most likely it was just perfect timing. Just one kiss, and he changed my world. We were both sad back then, and lost. I was depressed, having finally ended a marriage that had been doomed from the beginning. I was also dealing with the pressures of filming a television show, which was totally new to me - and drinking my way blindly through it all. His story mirrored mine, and he had been feeling just as low. We had been waiting for something to happen, for someone or something to come along and save us from ourselves. And when it suddenly seemed that that someone was each other, it took us both by surprise. We shared darkness, and doing that bought light back into our somber worlds: for once, we didn’t feel alone.He’s the reason why I wanted to write music to begin with - and learn to sing. I remember the exact moment I made up my mind about making music. It was something I felt I needed to do, not for any reason other than a way to respond to him. It didn’t matter if the songs I’d write never saw the light of day, as long as he was able to listen to my music, my message to him. He had told me to look for a package at my door step, prefacing the delivery of the contents, his new album, saying, “These are all of the things that are easier sung than said.”I knew what he meant, but never imagined that each song would be filled with direct messages to me. I put the album on, and the music rushed out of the speakers and filled my house. His voice rang all around, making it’s way to the core of my heart with every word he sang. As cryptic as those lyrics may have been for anyone else, I knew exactly what each word meant and recognized every event and place he referred to. The songs were so beautiful, I just wished so badly that he could have said everything out loud just once to me. How should I respond to something like this? Where do I even start?The first time I saw him after I got sober, he was in town working on music. We sat in my office at the shop until the late hours of the night, talking and catching up about everything - music, home, art and work. Did we talk about love? No. We constantly danced around our past instead. What happened to us? I couldn’t find the courage to ask because I was scared of the answer I already knew. We decided to draw, with pencils and paper in front of us, we sat at opposite ends of the table. He pulled my three-minute timer from one of the nearby shelves, and placed it at the center of the table. He suggested we draw each other, and I was game. With a flip of the hourglass, the grains of sand moved from one vessel to the other, and we began.Sketching these timed portraits forced us to stare at each other, making it practically impossible to focus on the drawing itself. I had almost forgotten how beautiful his face was. He has a combination of eyes, lips, and a darkness to his looks that makes him look almost otherworldly. With him, I felt like I was at the center of an orderly, tranquil, magnificent universe. For those short three minutes, there were no questions about life or purpose. It was as if we never needed any more from each other than this.Like all people, I’ve suffered from love sickness and tasted the pain of love. The theatrical director of my mind, the one who staged all these versions of him and my life with him, seemed to be unaffected by reason. I was finding myself constantly day dreaming of the past.His eyes, his hands, his crooked smile - I’d ruminate over his features. Things he said. Things he did. Things he wrote. Things he drew. Things he sang. Over and over again, I’d sift through these images and memories as if they somehow contained the answer to my prayers. But I was living with a long-age memory of him; living so far away from the present moment.If we had spoken about what we were or what we thought we were, back when we got sober, I wouldn’t have been so confused, wandering what if, and writing the rest of our story in my mind. What did I expect? For him to magically not hear about me being in a relationship? And to not be bothered by it? If only he would have asked….. I would have….. If we could have only talked….. then things would be….. if we allowed ourselves to transform our fears of being open, vulnerable, then, I’d convince myself, we would be together. I realized that none of that mattered now. If I wanted to be free of this unrequited longing, I would have to make peace with the past and finally let it go. There was no way around it. But did I want to be free of it? - and him?I listened to one of his songs the other day. Out of all the songs he wrote on that album, this one was the most direct. He sings my name in the chorus. By the time the song is over, I’ve felt a range of emotions - I’m sad but happy, frustrated but calm. He sings about how I alone bring him to a place of stillness and peace within when we are together. What a victorious feeling - to enter into a place with him where no one else has been. To be able to bring goodness to and draw it out of someone. Those sweet thoughts were interrupted by  an e-mail from him. Impeccable timing as always. It’s just a short note, letting me now he’s somewhere out there, thinking of me. He ends the message by calling me “Star Face” - his pet name for me from long ago that no one else uses. At that moment, I loathe him for it. I loathe him because I love him. Sometimes it feels like it would be so much easier to walk away from this if he’d just tell me that he hates me, that he wants nothing to do with me. But instead he calls me “Star Face.” There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. He’s not letting go, either.‘Ultimately, it is the desire, not the desired, that we love.’The silver plane hurtled over Newfoundland, over the Labrador sea. Someone told me I might see the northern lights as I fly east and north, but I wouldn’t have noticed as I was deep in writing the letter that I had already mentally composed long before I decided to make this trip to see him over New Year’s Day. I didn’t have to edit myself this time, I knew exactly what the letter would say.I reread the note to myself before sealing the envelope. Then I drew out the first letter of his name in pencil on the front. What a beautiful letter it was, probably my favorite out of the entire alphabet. A letter I was so used to writing myself. With ease the swirls and curves of each arch seemed to flow from my heart, my mind’s eye, drawn in and through my arms to my hands, releasing themselves onto the pale ivory paper envelope. My plane landed soon after.I had missed this country, I had missed him, too. I wondered how time had treated him ,for it had been a few years since I had last seen him. I wondered if I still had the ability to quiet his heart when he was feeling manic. He always said I had a way of doing that when I was near. And I wondered if he even needed me in that way anymore.When we met up, he looked just as beautiful as the day we saw each other for the first time, almost ten years before. And as if no time had passed, we started right where we left off - hours flew by in the comfort of each other’s presence. Talking. Catching up.He asked if I was getting sleepy, and my attempt at concealing the tiredness was transparent. I looked at the clock; maybe it was the jet lag or the clock hands pointing to midnight, but I knew it was time to say good-bye. Reluctantly, we both stood up and tried our best to part ways. As good as it felt to be near him again, I gave him the letter I had written letting him know that I was letting the nation of us go. He took the sealed envelope, and then I watched him walk away for what I assumed would be the last time.My heart didn’t belong locked up in a tower across the ocean from my home. It belonged in my chest, beating, living, feeling, sometimes hurting, but always loving. I deserved to be free, and understanding and needing that more than a dream, I was finally able to let him go.”

_________

Now, let me start by saying, I’ve never understood this and I still don’t. I’ve had that passage saved in my drafts for years because I keep almost anything pertaining to Ville. 

I’ve been a HIM fan since I was about 15 years old, and have followed Ville’s life and work closely. The friendship between them was always apparent to HIM fans in those days, because we saw her in photos with the band often. I used to watch Miami Ink and LA Ink as regularly as pretty much anyone in those days, and I remember when this particular passage of her book was brought to light, the HIM fan base read it and we all had our thoughts. We were all aware of Screamworks being written about Kat (it’s obvious in the lyrics of the album) even though Ville never specifically said Kat’s name when asked about it in interviews.

I remember being baffled back when we as HIM fans discovered this passage from the book. I couldn’t imagine not making that relationship work if it was true love. I’m a bit biased because I adore Ville and he’s like a dream to me, but I just couldn’t understand it. It seemed like she took the relationship for granted or she didn’t love him enough to make it work; but I digress. I get it; love and relationships are complex.

Still, flash forward to this recent interview (the screenshot), she says it was unrequited love, and I’m still not understanding it. Why release all the songs now? Why didn’t she make it work if it was true love? Who is she trying to say was the one not reciprocating (as the word “unrequited” suggests) in the relationship? I don’t understand any of it. More than anything, I’ve had so many questions that I wish I could ask Ville about it all because he only spoke briefly about it all, and it was always rather cryptic. 

I’m only writing this as a HIM fan, and because I love Ville and his lyrics on Screamworks so, so much (it’s an extremely underrated album in the HIM discography, in my opinion) so I’m letting any fellow HIM lovers know she wrote an album in response to it, in case you’re interested. I haven’t followed Kat or her work in many years, so I don’t know what to make of all this, but it’s always been extremely apparent to me when listening to Screamworks that a lot of heart went into it and even pain, not that his lyrics on other albums aren’t like that too, but I felt it more on Screamworks. I feel that Ville was the one who was truly heartbroken.

You all probably know from following my blog that I’m obsessed with love and unrequited love. Any romantic stories, bittersweet letters, heartbreak, longing etc. is just my favorite thing in the world so please excuse the long post, haha.

[felassan]

Some DA trivia and dev commentary from Twitter

There’s a lot of different tweets, so I’m just pasting and linking to the source rather than screencapping them all or making several different posts or something. Post under cut for length.

User: Was dragon age 2 your favourite in the franchise?

David Gaider: DA2 was the project where my writing team was firing on all cylinders, and they wrote like the wind- because they had to! Second draft? Pfft. Plot reviews? Pfft. I was so proud of what we all accomplished in such a brief time. I didn't think it was possible. [source] DA2 is, however, also where the goal posts kept moving. Things kept getting cut, even while we worked. I had to write that dialogue where Orsino turned even if you sided with him, because his boss battle had been cut and there was no time to fix the plot. A real WTF moment. >:( [source]

Mike Rousseau: I remember bugging that! And then being told it wasn't a bug, and being so confused. Doing QA for DA2 was an experience. Trial by fire. [source]

DG: So I think it's safe to say DA2 is my favorite entry in the DA franchise and also the sort of thing I never want to live through ever again. Mixed feelings galore. [source]

User: (I personally blame whoever it was for ruining most romance arcs in other games for me; they don't live up to Fenris's romance storyline)

DG: I wrote Fenris, so uh - me, I guess? Or maybe his cinematic designer, who put in the puppy dog eyes. [source]

User: If DA2 had just been an expansion, do you think it would have been better received? There was a lot of great stuff in there, and I think my initial dislike of it was because of the zone reuse. If it hadn't needed to be a full game, would that issue not have arisen?

DG: Hard to say. It was either going to be an over-scoped expansion or an under-scoped sequel. If it had stayed an expansion, it might never have received the resources/push it DID get. [source]

User: I'd love to visit the universe where you had an extra year or so to work on it. You did a very good job as it stands, but it definitely had rough edges. Not just the writing team either. The whole game had hit and miss moments, that just a little more dev time could have fixed.

DG: On one hand, DA2 existed to fill a hole in the release schedule. More time was never in the cards. DA2 was originally planned as an expansion! On the other, if we had more time, would we have started doing that thing where we second guess/iterate ourselves into mediocrity? [shrug emoji] [source] 

Jennifer Hepler: This is what I love about DA2. Personally, I greatly prefer something that's rough and raw and sincere to something that's had all the soul polished out of it. Extra time would have helped for art and levels, but it would have lost something too. [source]

DG: Right? I think we could have used some time for peer reviews (and fewer cuts), but I think the rawness of the writing lent a certain spark that we usually polished out. [source]

JH: Definitely. I think the structure (more character-driven) and the tightness of the timeframe let each individual writer's voice really come through. Polish can be very homogenizing. [source]

DG: I should add I'm not, by any means, against iteration. Some iteration is good and necessary. The problem that BioWare often had is that we never knew when to stop. Like a goldfish, we would fill the space given to us by constantly re-iterating on things that were "good enough". [source]

Patrick Weekes: I appreciate your incredibly diplomatic use of the past tense on "had". :D [source]

User: DA2 was my gateway into the series and I’m so happy it is. I love the game the way that it is. It’s one of my favorites of all time. But I am also aware of everything that was said here. If it were remastered, do you think it would change?

DG: I'd be surprised if it was ever remastered. If it was, do you really think they'd change things? Do remasters do that? No idea. [source]

User: Both sides got undercut as I recall. Didn't that whole sequence also end with the mage leader embracing blood magic? It was very much "a plague on both your houses" moment, at least for me.

DG: Yep. Orsino was supposed to have his own version of Meredith's end battle, which only happened if you sided with the templars. That got cut, but the team still wanted to use the model we'd made for him. So... that happened. [source]

DG: I would personally say that DA2 is a fantastic game hidden under a mountain of compromises, cut corners, and tight deadlines. If you can see past all that, you'll see a fantastic game. I don't doubt, however, that it's very difficult for most to do that. [source]

PW: I love DAI with all my selfish "I worked on this" heart, but DA2's follower arcs and relationships are probably my favorite in the series. [source]

User: As I've expressed many times, I love the game, especially it's writing and characters but, for me, the most impressive aspect of it, in consideration of it's lack of time for drafts and revisions, is the 2nd act with Arishok.  What amazingly complex character and fantastic duel

User: Just played it again and I have to agree. Though he is bound by the harsher tenants of the Qun, he makes valid points about free marcher society. Though it is obvious that he and Hawke will come to blows eventually, the tension builds gradually and understandably

DG: Luke did such a fantastic job with the Arishok I found myself sometimes wishing the Qunari plot had just been THE plot. [source]

User: What do you think would have changed, story wise, if you had more time for DA2?

DG: I would have taken out that thing where Meredith gets the idol. It was forced on me because she needed to be "super-powered" with red lyrium for her final battle. Being "crazy", however, robbed her side of the mage/templar argument of any legitimacy. I hated hated hated that. [source]

User: I deeply lament that there wasn't/couldn't be some sort of DA2 equivalent of Throne of Bhaal's Ascension mod.

DG: I'd have done it, if DA2 had allowed for anything but the most rudimentary of modding. ;) [source]

User: I mean, and I think I understand where you were trying, but how much legitimacy did the Templars and her as top Templar have after they're keeping the mages locked up against their will in the old slave quarters? Feel free to not reply.

DG: I think it's the kind of discussion which requires nuance, and which discussions on the Internet are not prone to. [source]

User: Was a compromise that the quest lines don’t branch? It felt like it was supposed to be that way but then you end up in the same place later regardless of what you pick. Like I hoodwinked the templars so good to help the apostates escape but in Act II they were caught anyway.

DG: I remember us having a lot more branching in the initial planning yes. Most of this got trimmed out in the first or second wave of cuts, in an effort to not cut the plots altogether. [source]

DG: "If you could Zack Snyder DA2, what would you change?" Wow. I'm willing to bet Mark or Mike (or anyone else on the team) would give very different answers than me, but it's enough to give a sober man pause, because that was THE Project of Multiple Regrets. [source] I mean, it's the most hypothetical of hypotheticals. It's never gonna happen. I wouldn't be surprised if EA considered DA2 its embarrassing red-headed stepchild. We'd also need to ignore that in many ways DA2 was as good as it was bad BECAUSE of how it was made. But that aside? [source] First, either restore the progressive changes to Kirkwall we'd planned over the passing of in-game years or reduce the time between acts to months instead of years... which, in hindsight, probably should have been done as soon as the progressive stuff was cut. [source] I'm sure you're like "get rid of repeated levels!" ...but I don't care about that. All I wanted was for Kirkwall to feel like a bigger city. Way more crowded. More alive! Fewer blood mages. [source] I'd want to restore the plot where a mage Hawke came THIS close to becoming an abomination. An entire story spent trapped in one's own head while trapped on the edge of possession. Why? Because Hawke is the only mage who apparently never struggles with this. It was a hard cut. [source]

User: I would LOVE to hear more details about this! I don’t suppose there’s any chance of a short story?

DG: I don't even remember the details of the story, sorry. There was a fight, and you caught the bad guy and then realized none of it was real and woke up idk [source]

DG: I'd want to restore all those alternate lines we cut, meaning people forget they'd met you. Or that they knew you were a mage. Or, oh god, that maybe they'd romanced you in DAO. So much carnage. [source] I'd want to restore the Act 3 plots we cut only because they were worked on too late, but which would have made the buildup to the mage/templar clash less sudden. Though I don't remember what they were, now. Some never got beyond being index cards posted on the wall. [grimace emoji] [source] As I mentioned elsewhere, I'd want to restore Orsino's end battle so he wouldn't need to turn on you even if you sided with him. And I'd want an end fight with the templars that didn't require Meredith to have red lyrium and go full Tetsuo. [source] Heck, maybe an end decision where you sided with neither the mages nor the templars. Because it certainly ended up feeling like you could brand both sides as batshit pretty legitimately, no? That was never planned, tho. No idea how to make that feel like an actual path atm. [source] Maybe an option to go "umm, Anders... what are you DOING?" 👀 [source] And, of course, a Varric romance, because Mary took that "slimy car salesman" character we'd planned and did the impossible with him. I can feel Mary glaring at me for even suggesting this, tho. [source] Lastly, the original expanded opening to the game which allowed you to spend time with Bethany and Carver BEFORE the darkspawn attacked. And, um, that's about it off the top of my head. Zack Snyder, WHAT PANDORA'S BOX HAVE YOU OPENED. [source] Shit, I remembered two more things: 1) Restore the "Varric exaggerates the heck out of the story" at the beginning of every Act, until Cassandra calls him on it. Yes, that was a thing. 2) Make DA: Exodus. Yes, I am still bitter. [source] God damn it, I meant "Make DA: Exalted March". The DA2 expansion, NOT Exodus since that was DA2's original name and makes no sense. Because the expansion ended with Varric dying, and that will always be on my "things left undone" list. [source]

User: Whaaaat?

DG: Well, you know that scene in Wrath of Khan where Spock goes into the dilithium chamber because he's a Vulcan? Well, imagine that but with Varric and red lyrium and because he's a dwarf. ;) [source]

John Epler: I distinctly remember referencing the bit from MGS4 where you crawl through the microwave corridor in the split screen, while cinematic battle rages on the other half. [source]

DG: It would have been glorious, John. Glorious. [source]

JE: I don't think I've ever been so certain what a shot should look like as I did Hawke coming in and finding Varric in the broken throne, just like when he was telling Cassandra his story. [source]

DG: It would have come full circle! Auggghh, it still kills me. [source]

User: Lord, you folks are a little too good at this.

JE: The true secret behind videogame narrative is knowing how to make yourself seem a lot more clever than you actually are. [source] 'Oh, we TOTALLY planned that.' [source]

User: Ok, this thread [the DA2 regrets thread, which is the big chunks above] but Inquisition.

DG: My regrets about Inquisition are, more or less, the normal kind. Nothing so dramatic, I'm afraid. [source]

User: You can keep your Varric romance, I want a Flemeth romance goddamnit!

DG: I would allow for one flirt option, and then a recording of Kate Mulgrew laughing for three minutes straight. [source]

User: I had a hypothesis about the repetitive caves in DA2. They're repetitive because it's Varric telling the story and he didn't consider them important.  They're like sets in a play.  (Okay, I really suspect it was a time/money/resources thing but I like my fake explanation better.)

DG: Hang a lampshade on it, maybe? Cassandra: "But that's the exact cave you were in last time?" Varric: "Whatever. They all look the same, I'm not THAT kind of dwarf. Can we move on?" [source]

User: that makes sense, hypothetically to make Varric romanceable and keep his arc—that had to happen for the main plot—I imagine you would have to make double the content (or more)? which would've been a tall order given the time/budget constraints the game was under

DG: Right. When it comes to "romance arc" vs. "follower story arc", we generally only had time to do one or the other. Never both. Romancing Varric would have meant not getting the story of his that you did. [source]

Mary Kirby: The one exaggeration I really, REALLY wanted, that we never got to do was Varric narrating his own death scene with Hawke weeping over him, then cutting to Cassandra's pissed off glaring at him. [source]

DG: Haha! The one I wanted was Varric's plot where he takes on the baddies single-handedly, sliding across the floor like Jet Lee, action movie-style, until finally Cassandra gets irritated and he has to admit Hawke & the rest of the party showed up to help. [source]

MK: We did that one! (He didn't do any Jet Lee moves, though.) Jepler gave him letterboxing to get The Good, the Bad, & the Ugly showdown vibes while he shot a ton of mooks single-handed. [source]

DG: Wow. Shows how much I remember. [source]

JE: I found it! I remember seeing this sequence as my treat for doing a bunch of much more challenging work. It was fun to see how far I could push our limited library of animations. [link] [source]

DG: Heh awesome. I could have sworn it was cut, honestly. I think I was even in that meeting. [source]

User: no disrespect but that’s surprising and rich of Mary “Hard in Hightown” Kirby to think DA2 shouldn’t have had a Varric romance when she wrote an entire book of Varric’s self-insert character pining over his Hawke insert character… HIH is the reason we had VHawke Summer 2018

DG: I can't *really* speak for Mary, or how she feels about it now compared to back then. I only know how she felt about it back then, and I'm not sure it was as much the concept of the romance but that Varric's entire story would be bent to "romance arc" ...a very different thing. [source]

JH: I remember pushing to have the first DLC start with Hawke having an option to ask Varric, "Did you tell Cassandra about us?" and if you picked it, Varric would answer, "Of course not, baby. I told her you were sleeping with X..." and then proceed as if you had had a full romance. [source]

DG: I still wonder how that would have gone over. x) [source]

JE: Okay, one more DA2 thing. Putting together the cinematics for this scene was a blast. [link] [source]

MK: These lines are my greatest legacy. I want "Make sure the world knows I died... at Chateau Haine!" inscribed on my tombstone. [source]

JE: I was so glad no one said 'no' to the crane shot. [source]

MK: It needs that crane shot. It's the perfect icing on that cake made from solid cheese. [source]

DG: The designers were all "we need more combat" and I think we were all "I think you underestimate just HOW interesting we can make this dinner party". [source]

JE: And finally. I think @SherylChee wrote the one-liner. I think we had a collection of like, 20. [link] [source]

Sheryl Chee: Yeah! Something like that! I remember submitted a whole bunch and Frank said you only needed one. Wish I'd kept the other fifteen. [source]

JE: A random chooser where, each time through the scene, you get a different one-liner. [source]

JE: DA2 is the project I'm the proudest of. I also absolutely get that it didn't land for a lot of people. But I don't think it's inaccurate to say that, in a lot of ways, DA2 defined my career. [source]  Everyone spent a year working at their maximum ability. I was a fresh cinematic designer and was given all of Varric's content, as well as the Act 1 Finale mission. It was a lot for someone who had been doing the Cinematics thing for literally 6 months. [source]  There's some stuff in there I can't look at without wincing. And there's some stuff I'm genuinely proud of. Not to mention, it was my introduction to most of the writing team. Several of whom I'm still working with today! Albeit in a different capacity [source] Also, weirdly, one of my most enduring memories of Dragon Age 2 is how much Bad Company 2 we'd play at lunch. It was a LOT. [source] Every game I've worked on has a game I played attached to it. ME2 is Borderlands. DA2 is Bad Company 2. DAI is DayZ. I, hmm. There's a progression there. I don't know how I feel about it. [source]

User: Is DA4 going to be tarkov then?

JE: I've kind of churned out of Tarkov for now. Probably Hunt Showdown, at least right now. [source]

User: I think people also don't take nuance into consideration -- like I FULLY acknowledge the flaws in my favorite games and will openly criticize them, but that doesn't mean they're not my favorite games anymore??? You can like and thing and still be critical of it.

JE: A lot of my favourite shit is deeply flawed! I acknowledge it and I think it's interesting to dissect the flaws. [source]

User: I still wish Justice was an actual character in DA2 rather than a plot point.

DG: There was a moment during DAI where we *almost* put in you running into Justice with the Grey Wardens, and he's all "Kirkwall? I never went to Kirkwall" [source]

User: Does that imply that Justice was shoehorned in to DA2?

DG: Nah, it was an in-joke where we thought it'd be fun to suggest that "Justice" was simply some demon that tricked Anders in DA2. Wooo those tricky demons! We didn't do it, though. [source]

User: [about templars]  except, I don't think it had very much legitimacy to begin with. keep in mind, we interact with other characters with the same argument. The one that comes to mind is Cullen, a sane templar in power. The templar's side of the argument is inherently flawed.

DG: I don't doubt that many people agree with you, and yet people can and do argue on behalf of the templars as well. My place isn't to pick a side, but to provide evidence that players can interpret for themselves [source]

User: Can you shed some light for us on how DA was able to do multiple same-sex romance options for different genders but the Mass Effect team treated them like the plague? What process existed for your team that just wasn't their for the other tentpole franchise?

DG: Different people making the decisions, almost different cultures. I don't know what it's like now, but for many years the Mass Effect team and the Dragon Age team were almost like two different studios working within the same building. [source]

User: It truly boggles the mind. Kudos for doing demonstrably better on consistent queer representation than the ME teams. Y'all never needed us to make petitions to try to get the studio's attention and ask them to do better by us. That's the fight we're once again embroiled in now.

DG: Honestly, I don't feel like tut-tutting the Mass Effect team. They did their part, and if they were a bit later to the show than the DA team they certainly did more than almost every other game out there -- and willingly. [source]

Updates begin here

User: So what was the reason for naming Dragon age 2 "Dragon age II" and not using a subtitle?

DG: As I recall, that was purely a publisher decision. I think they wanted to avoid the impression it was an expansion. [source]

User: Is there no chance of ever remaking DA2 under better circumstances? -Somehow remove the repetitiveness of gameplay by making changes and updating the tech and adding much more to the storyline. It could almost be a new very exciting game.

DG: I'd say there's zero chance of that. Let's keep our hopes up for the next DA title instead. [source]

User: I am a little confused here, help me out here please! How exactly was the cut boss battle with Orsino supposed to work out? How it would've kept him from turning against the player?

DG: It means that, if you sided with the templars, the entire boss bottle at the end would have been against Orsino and the mages. No fight against Meredith. The end decision would have been more divergent. [source]

User: I do remember that one of the reasons going around for that, was that resources were going to the transition to Frostbite. I'm still not fully sold on that having been a good choice. I felt that more time should have been given for that transition considering it was made for FPSs

DG: We didn't transition to Frostbite until DAI. Given our time frame for DA2, I don't think we *could* have transitioned to a new engine. [source]

User: Since your talking about the what could have been for DA2. Could you say what your script was for Anthem? Cause I remember reading that you wrote the plot on that game.

DG: I created a setting for Anthem and scripted out a plot - but, as I understand it, almost none of that ended up being used. So it's a bit pointless to talk about what I'd planned, as that'd be for some completely different type of game. [source]

User: [in reference to the exchange above where DG said “Being "crazy", however, robbed her side of the mage/templar argument of any legitimacy. I hated hated hated that.” re: Meredith] except, I don't think it had very much legitimacy to begin with. keep in mind, we interact with other characters with the same argument. The one that comes to mind is Cullen, a sane templar in power. The templar's side of the argument is inherently flawed.

DG: I don't doubt that many people agree with you, and yet people can and do argue on behalf of the templars as well. My place isn't to pick a side, but to provide evidence that players can interpret for themselves. [source]

If I missed a tweet, got the wrong source link or included a tweet twice, feel free to let me know and I’ll correct.

Edit / Update: Post update 22nd April

[scapegrace74-blog]

New Ways of Turning Into Stone

A/N  Another long drive, another Outlander fanfic idea that dropped into my brain out of nowhere, shoving aside the historical AU I have been wrestling with for months.  Here’s the pitch: Claire Beauchamp is a psychiatrist specializing in grief counselling.  Jamie Fraser is referred to her by his sister, who is worried for his well-being after a series of family tragedies.  You can probably guess the rest, but I’m going to write it anyway.   The title is taken from a song by the amazing Phantogram that was playing as the story idea came to me.

After losing my WIP virginity posting Ginger Snap, I’m going out on that limb again and posting this first chapter with only a rough outline mapped out in my head.  You people are a terrible influence!  Also, there will be some trigger warnings on future chapters, so please watch out for those.   And now, on with our show.

Claire Beauchamp glanced down at the leather-bound calendar open on her desk.  The ivory page for Thursday was packed to the margins, each hourly block filled with the name of a patient followed by a series of cuneiform symbols she used to remind herself of the last session, course of treatment, overall progress, all while maintaining strict confidentiality.  Not even Geillis Duncan, her office administrator and very good friend, knew how to decode the script.

Geillis liked to laugh at the old-fashioned day planner, reminding Claire that their practice utilized software that could perform the same function electronically, but she enjoyed the act of physically logging each session.  The solid heft of her Mont Blanc pen in her hand, a medical school graduation gift from her Uncle Lamb.  The scratch and grab of the nub as it bled black ink over virgin paper.  It was a tactile ceremony in a detached world.  Geillis would nod and then tell her she needed to get laid.

Speak of the devil, a sharp rap on her office door was followed by the appearance of her strawberry blonde head. blue eyes alight with mischief.

“Yer two o’clock is here.  Did ye need more time tae finish bolting down tha’ chaff ye call a salad, or can I show him in?”

“It’s kale,” she defended.  “It’s full of anti-oxidants.”

A disdainful scoff was the only response.

“Yes, Geil, please show Mister...” she glanced down at her planner, “...Fraser in, thank you.”

The tiny rectangle contained only a name, which meant this was their first appointment.  Geillis vetted all prospective patients, but Claire preferred to go into the first meeting blind, with no assumptions or pre-conceptions.  

She wondered what misfortune had caused Mr. Fraser to seek out her psychiatric services.  The death of a child, perhaps, or the end of an extra-marital affair.  People grieved for very different reasons and worked through or around that grief with a surprising variety of coping mechanisms.   Most called upon her practice in much the same way they would a breakdown truck when their car’s engine failed.  They simply wanted to get back on the road to happiness.

Despite the degrees and accreditations that decorated her office wall, Claire wasn’t certain such a thing was possible.  In her experience, grief was a phantom limb that never really went away.  The best one could hope for was to learn healthier ways of living with it.  

The sound of Geillis clearing her throat snapped her back to the present.

“Was there something else, Geil?”

“Och, no’ really.  Just, when yer considerin’ how tae thank me later on, remember tha’ my favourite stone is an emerald, that I prefer gold tae silver, but platinum is ne’er amiss.”

“What are you on about, Duncan?”  But her friend had already disappeared back into the reception area, leaving behind only the glow of her Cheshire smile.  Claire was shaking her head, bemused, when another knock rang out, this one considerably heavier than the first.

“Come in,” she called as she looked up.  And up.  And up some more.

The man who now practically filled her office door had to be at least six foot four, with powerful shoulders and a broad torso encased in a blue henley.  His nearly endless legs were likewise muscular, as testified by the stretch of his jeans across each thigh.  As if his physique wasn’t remarkable enough, he had a head of outrageously wavy red hair, worn long enough to graze the tops of his ears and the nape of his neck, but swept back from a high brow by a judicious use of product.  His face was angular in a pleasingly unique way, with a day or two’s growth of beard counter-balancing an almost youthful, earnest appearance.  But his most striking feature by far were his aquamarine eyes that shimmered like a tropical sea.  Eyes that were currently observing her with perplexity.

“Dr. Beauchamp?” a deep Scottish brogue inquired.  He pronounced it as though she were French.

“Yes,” she startled.  “That’s me.  And it’s pronounced Beecham.  Please, come in Mister Fraser.”  She shuffled a few items around her desk needlessly as she tried to compose herself.  Damn Geillis for not giving her a bit more warning that her newest client was some sort of fitness model.

“Thank ye,” he replied.  “An’ it’s pronounced Jamie, if ye please.”   She added wit to the growing list of the man’s attributes.

If anything, he grew even more impressive as he approached.  She could see he was nervous, although hiding it well.  His striking eyes darted about the room, trying to get a sense of his environment.  She indicated the well-upholstered armchair that sat to one side of her desk.

“Have a seat,” she invited.

With a surprising amount of grace for one so tall, he eased into the chair but didn’t lean back.  The fingers of his left hand tapped restlessly against his thigh.  She watched him quietly, waiting for him to speak.  This was a trick she had learned when she first started practicing psychiatry, but in this case it also allowed her to continue her appraisal.  He was, she concluded, the most attractive man she’d ever seen in the flesh.

“No couch,” he finally observed.

“No.  That’s a bit of a Hollywood trope, I’m afraid.  Lying prone in front of a stranger is hardly conducive to feeling at ease.”

He nodded his acceptance of her logic, but was otherwise silent.

“So,” she spoke at last, unable to wait him out, “what caused you to seek out counselling, Jamie?”  His name suited him, she thought as she spoke it for the first time.  Both boyish and imposing at once.

“I didna.  Twas my sister, Jenny, who insisted I see a doctor.”  His mobile mouth twisted into a grimace.  She could imagine the sibling discord that such a demand would have caused.  Whoever this Jenny was, she was made of strong stuff.  Unfortunately for her, a hostile patient would receive no benefit from merely visiting her office.  Counselling was a participatory process, and she could tell from the stubborn set of Jamie’s shoulders that he had no intention of participating.

“I see,” she said carefully.  “Well, it’s your time and your dime, Mr. Fraser.  This session lasts for forty-five minutes, and you’ve not been here for five.  There’s a carafe of hot water on the table over there, if you care for some tea.  Or you’re welcome to just enjoy that comfortable chair for another forty minutes.  I’ll be working on some administrative necessities.”

She turned her chair away from him, but from the corner of her eye she could see his gobsmacked expression.  He had clearly expected her to cajole and manipulate him into co-operating, but that simply wasn’t her style.

“I meant no offence, doctor.  I’m certain ye’re verra good at what ye do.  Tis only... well, Jenny is my older sister, ye ken.  She practically raised me.  And so ofttimes she treats me like a muckle-sized bairn, and no’ a man who’s capable of lookin’ after himself.”

As he spoke, Jamie leaned forward until his elbows rested on his knees, expressive hands gesturing in front of his face.  Hostile to the notion of counselling he might be, but he clearly wanted her to understand it wasn’t a slight.  As a physician, she had been trained to never take a patient’s reactions personally, but it didn’t mean she didn’t appreciate the effort.

“No offence taken, Jamie.  If you don’t need my assistance, I’m happy for you.  That’s one less person hurting in the world.”

“I didna say I wasna hurting.  But I can handle it my own way.  I am handling it, that is,” he hurried to add.

Unable to sit still any longer, he rose and walked over to the small table where she kept an assortment of herbal teas and a tray of Geillis’ homemade biscuits.  Bending over, Jamie set about making himself some; chamomile by the smell of it.  The sound of spoon ringing off porcelain as he stirred in some honey made her smile, reminding her of Lamb and his obsession with the lost art of afternoon tea.

“Can I make ye a cup?”

The question was so unexpected, it took her a moment to process it.  The tea was there as a distraction for her patients, to give them something to do with their bodies as they worked through difficult emotions.  None of them had ever thought to offer her a reprieve as well.

“No, thank you.  I just finished lunch.”

He dipped a shortbread into the steaming tea, then ate it in a single bite.  Instead of sitting back down, he began to browse the framed certificates and photographs along the far wall as he sipped his tea.  With his back turned, her eyes dipped to admire his ass, which filled out his jeans perfectly.  When she caught herself, she gave her head a shake, appalled at her lack of professional detachment.  Maybe Geillis was right.  Maybe she really did need to get laid.

“How long have ye been a doctor?” Jamie asked without turning around.

“Ten years,” she replied.  “But I’ve only been a psychiatrist for the last two.”

It was a dangerous topic, and she blamed his ass for letting the words slip out.  Fortunately, his inquisitiveness took him in an entirely different direction.

“Were ye some kind of prodigy, then? Ye hardly seem old enough tae have yer own practice, let alone fer a decade.  If ye dinna mind me sayin’ so,” he added quickly, as though realizing what he’d just said.

“Not at all.  And you hardly seem young enough to be a, what was it? A muckle-sized bairn?”

As he turned to look her way, she understood the expression ‘shot-gun smile’ for the first time.  It spread across his face like a sunbeam, transforming what was already remarkable into a work of art.  If she hadn’t been sitting, she likely would have stumbled backward from the force of the blow.  Scrambling for something familiar to keep her from making a very grave fool of herself in front of this man, she clasped her clinical training with both hands.

“Are you and your sister close?” 

“Aye, when we’re no’ tryin’ not tae kill the other.  Our Mam died when I was only four, and with Da workin’ dawn til dark on the farm, Jenny was parent, teacher an’ playmate all rolled inta one.”

“You’re not from Edinburgh, then?”  Although what that had to do with his counselling, she hadn’t a clue. 

“Nah, I hail from a wee village in the Highlands ye’ve likely ne’er heard of called Broch Mordha.”  She shook her head to indicate she was indeed unfamiliar with it.  Jamie launched into a detailed description of the place, his hands sculpting the landscape out of thin air.  He obviously cared very deeply for his home, and she felt a twinge of jealousy, having never known that feeling of deep belonging  herself.

“And what brought you to Old Smoky?” she asked as he wound down, her interest piqued.  It was like slamming a lead door on his previously sunny disposition.

“Family obligations.” Said in such a way as to make it clear that no further words would be forthcoming on the topic.  She regretted her nosiness immediately, despite what it revealed about his emotional state.  Jamie was most certainly grieving something, but handling it he was not.

Before she could find a way back to the easy flow of conversation, a chime from her laptop indicated that the session was up.  She couldn’t bear to dismiss him without trying to set things right.

“Listen, Jamie, I understand that you only came here today to humour your sister, but I want you to consider something.  Whether we’re grieving or angry or jealous, or any destabilizing feeling, we’re often the worst surveyors of our own landscape.  Just like you can’t know your place on the sea without referencing the stars, it takes something external to ourselves to measure how far adrift we have become.  Your sister obviously loves you.  Ask yourself, what has she seen in you that prompted her to force you to seek help?”

They parted with cordial but muted goodbyes.  The door closed behind him, leaving Claire to stare at the blank rectangle in her planner that bore his name.  No coded symbols flowed from her pen.  When the door re-opened, it was Geillis, closing it firmly behind her.

“Weel, did I no’ tell ye?  Wee fox, tha’ one.  And he told me he liked my shortbread!”   Geillis said this as though it was some kind of sexual euphemism, which for all Claire knew, it was.

“Yes,” she replied distractedly.  “He’s very nice.”

“Nice!  Nice?  Tha’ man is tae nice what Wagyu is tae beef jerky.  Have ye completely lost yer senses, woman?”  

“Yes, well, he’s a patient, Geillis, as you well know.  And not one I’m likely to see again,” she added, acknowledging out loud what she already knew.

“Oh, no?” Geillis sing-songed.  “Thas’ strange, as he just made an appointment fer the same time next week.”

Claire’s eyes flew to where her friend looked on, smug as could be.

“Yer three o’clock called tae say she was runnin’ five minutes late.  I’ll leave ye tae think about yer... patient.”

Claire picked up her pen, trying to pull together something resembling a professional summary of her first appointment with Jamie.  Her mind replayed their interaction, but all she could remember was the way his eyes crinkled when he was listening attentively, the tidy half-moons of his fingernails, the seam of his jeans as it contoured his thigh, and the cymbal-crash in her chest that accompanied his smile.

Patient, she reminded herself.  Jamie Fraser is your patient. 

[just-here-for-the-moment]

You just had to bring the symbol of Victory into this didn't you?!???? Is this some sort of euphemism I should look forward to or!??!?!?????

Yes!! Let me “paint you a picture” (groan)... Also, I sat down to draft my response and it's somehow *gestures at this whole mess* 2300+ words!?? And confession time! I’ve never even SEEN "The Mentalist"! Everything I know about Marcus Pike has come from cute GIFs and the Internet and fanfics… so… I don’t even know what’s going on with me today. But thank you! :D

(This is leaking over from this post if anyone needs to play catch-up)

Paris

Word count: 2300+

Rating: mature, 18+ only

Outline: Marcus Pike x “You” in Paris, reader is an Art History Professor (cis/het female reader; “blank canvas”/no physical description/no name/no use of “Y/N”)

Warnings: slow burn; cute Marcus Pike; coffee and pastries; kissing and stuff; public-ish sex in the Louvre after hours; spontaneous P/V sex (probably unprotected, idek) we're all adults here, wrap it before YOU tap it!

It’s like, you and sweet Marcus have definitely hit it off and you’re really into each other after that field trip meet-cute and your date, but you haven’t slept together yet. He gets called away for a case, so you wish him good luck and hope that you can see each other again soon.

A few days later it’s spring break and you have a trip to Paris planned to complete some research for your next publication. You email Marcus while you're waiting to board. You let him know that you’re going to be out of town for a few days, but that you hope his case is going well, and maybe when he's back you two can pick up where you left off?

You land in Paris and check your messages, and you see that Marcus has replied to your email. He says he can't share the details of his case, but that he hopes he'll be wrapped up by the end of the week, and that he definitely wants to see you again. He asks about your research trip, so you shoot a quick email back to fill him in on the details.

You get to your hotel and sink into a hot bath with your phone. You open your emails, and your brain tells you that you're just checking to confirm the details of your appointment with your research contact in the morning... but the little uptick in your heart rate tells you that you're actually looking for another reply from Marcus. And it's there. He says that he loves Paris and that your research sounds exciting. He asks where you’re staying? You give him the name of your hotel, and tell him that you haven't stayed there before, but it's cute.

Before the water even gets cold you have another reply, sending the butterflies behind your navel into a tizzy. He says that he's stayed there once or twice and that the café in the lobby has excellent pastries. You smile and let yourself imagine a vacation with Marcus, here in Paris, sharing pain au chocolat over a little table in the café. You refill the tub with hot water and sit daydreaming for so long that your fingers prune up.

You get out of the bath and wrap yourself in a plush robe, and sit on the edge of the bed. You email Marcus back, wishing him a good night and telling him that it's late where you are, but that you promise to try one of the pastries in the morning with your breakfast coffee. By the time you're in your nightgown and ready to sleep he's responded, wishing you sweet dreams and hoping that your research goes well. You smile and reply, "Thanks," and then drift down into pleasant dreams.

The next morning you take yourself to the little lobby café and treat yourself to a café crème and an almond croissant. Marcus was right, and you nearly moan aloud as you wrap your mouth around the flaky pastry. You open your email and send him a picture of your croissant with one bite missing, and you joke that you blame him for ruining you for any other boulangeries you might visit during your trip. By the time you're done with breakfast he's responded with a wink emoji and a quick "Sorry I ruined you," and you desperately want to email him back and boldly ask him to ruin you in other ways. You stop yourself, and your brain can't think of anything appropriate, so you just don't respond and you leave to go to your research appointment.

The day is long, and the dusty archives and a few misfiled papers cause small irritations. But you find a few of the things that you needed, so you call it productive enough. You break at 3 p.m. and decide to start again fresh in the morning. Maybe an early dinner and another scalding hot bubble bath will set you right. You decide that the weather is nice, and that your hotel is close enough that you can stroll back and people watch, disconnect your brain from your work and transition into relaxation mode along the way.

You arrive back at your hotel and go to your room to change. There is a card slipped under your door, the front desk letting you know that you have a delivery of some kind to pick up. You try to remember if any of your colleagues or your boss mentioned that they would send you anything? Is it paperwork? Some kind of file for your research? You decide to shower and change into a nice dress to lift your mood, and then head back out for dinner.

You take the card to the lobby desk and hand it to the desk clerk and he disappears into the back office. When he returns you're surprised to see that he's holding a floral arrangement, not huge or ostentatious, but lovely and cheerful and somehow your favorite color exactly. The clerk sets the vase on the desk. You reach for the card and open it.

"Good luck on your research. -Marcus"

You break into a wide grin and you practically float back to your room. You set the flowers on the room table and open your email to thank him. You send him a photo and an effusive "Thank you!" and a winky kiss emoji. Is that too much? No - if one little emoji scares him off then he's not the guy you thought he was.

He responds within minutes, a quick "You're welcome. Glad they arrived in one piece." and his own winky kiss emoji. Your heart flutters and you reply immediately, "They're really lovely. Thank you for thinking of me."

A moment later his next email pops up: "Can I take you to dinner and pick up where we left off?"

You reply: "Absolutely! I'll let you know as soon as I'm back in town!"

He responds: "No, I meant tonight."

You hesitate, does he want to call you and chat on the phone while you eat dinner? Some kind of video call, like a virtual date? Before you can type your reply, a new message pops up: "I'm actually in Paris. My case is here and I arrived a few days before you did. I didn't want to scare you off or come to your hotel unannounced, but I'm free tonight and I'd love to see you."

You throw your head back and laugh. This is definitely way more fun than eating alone and people-watching. You message back an enthusiastic, "Yes! I'm ready when you are!" and he emails you and says he'll see you in 30 minutes in the lobby. When you get downstairs he's waiting by the front desk, all soft scruff and loosened tie and warm brown eyes, just as you remembered. You smile and hug him, and in that moment you feel like a fairy-tale princess meeting her prince, being swept off your feet in the most romantic city in the world.

You have dinner at a cozy bistro around the corner, Marcus making you bubble with laughter as you talk. He listens to you moan about the missing pieces of your research, your pressing need to track down a letter from one artist to another that was mentioned in an old diary but which hasn't yet surfaced. You're sure it's around the archives somewhere, just waiting for you to piece it together with the rest of your project. Marcus tells you that his case is almost wrapping up, and if you want he can arrange to catch the same flight home as you. You smile and tell him that would be nice.

You finish dinner and he asks if you want to go to the Louvre, and you check the time and say that they're almost closing. Marcus smiles at you and says, "Don't worry about it," and he looks a little mischievous. You tell him you're up for an adventure, and he takes your hand and ushers you into a taxi.

When you arrive he asks the desk staff for someone he knows, and you make a quick run to the restroom. When you return, Marcus has two laminated badges, special access for professionals and visiting staff that allows you to stay for a few hours past closing. You can't believe your luck, being allowed to spend extra time in one of the most special places in the world, not to mention that your escort is the most handsome and charismatic man you've ever met.

You start in the Denon wing and wander through the museum, talking and laughing quietly, enjoying the opportunity to see things that you would normally have to fight hordes of tourists to see. And maybe "enjoy" isn't the right word, because if someone asked you how you were feeling right now, you would say you were "on cloud nine" or "elated" or "floating." It feels like a dream, and you're not sure if you're going to remember all of it later, but you desperately want to, and you're trying so hard to file every sight away into your brain.

When you reach the Mona Lisa, an odd hush falls over you, and you realize it's the first time you've ever seen it without a crowd twenty deep in front of it. Marcus seems to know what you're feeling, because he takes your hand, almost shyly. And he keeps holding it, warming your fingers as the two of you walk on. You stop in front of Delacroix, "Liberty Leading the People," and you tell Marcus that it's the first painting you ever fell in love with, a million years ago in high school during your very first art history class. You look at the painting and he looks at you, and when you finally turn toward him he captures your mouth in a warm, urgent, soft kiss. You can feel your eyes sparkling at him when he pulls away, and you don't say a word, you just smile and hold his hand as you walk through doorways and up and down stairs.

You come around a corner and there it is, probably the most famous statue in the world: the Venus de Milo. She takes your breath away, and then Marcus does, too, stealing a kiss when you least expect it. And you're torn completely in half, unsure if you would rather keep kissing him or just stare at the curves and planes of her body. So you try to do both; you kiss him and keep one eye on the Venus and you start to feel dizzy, like you've overloaded on sugar, but it's just the impossible circumstances that you've found yourself in.

And you break apart from him, and take his hand again, leading him into a corner that's a little more private. You back yourself against a wall and pull him to you by his tie, and you kiss him the way he deserves, with your full attention and precision. Minutes pass slowly, and you only come up for air because you're afraid you're going to faint. Your thigh is blazing hot where Marcus's hand has raked up under your skirt, and the only reason you don't fuck him right there is because of a security camera keeping watch on the alcove.

You tell him that you both should finish your tour and go back to your hotel, and he agrees. You try to keep your mind on the art, and you tell Marcus about how awestruck you were as a student when you learned about the way that sculptors could depict every curve and dimple of a woman's body through the wet drapery technique; the sensuality of the human form made only slightly more modest when viewed through a veil of fabric; the sheer awesome impossibility of marble carved to look like gauze.

You both get lost in the conversation, and you wander up a staircase and around a corner, and there it is: your absolute favorite piece of art, the piece that you have studied and memorized and dreamed about. And you've seen it before: you've been to the Louvre a handful of times, but this time there are no noisy footsteps echoing off the marble, no tourists trying to capture the glory of it with their tiny and unworthy cameras and phones when there are perfectly good books and postcards available in the gift shop... the Nike to end all Nikes, the Winged Victory of Samothrace. You are, quite simply, blown away.

And if it had been a normal weekend walking tour of the sacred Louvre, if you had been there with anyone else... you wouldn't have ended up wedged against the wall of the archway to her left, skirt hiked up as Marcus pounded into you, one of your bare legs hooked over his hip and your arms wrapped around his neck. If it had been any other day or any other time, you would have stopped him before he unzipped his fly and pulled his erection out; you would have had some remaining shred of propriety, of decency. But it wasn't a normal day and he wasn't a normal man, and you really weren't yourself.

You had gotten carried away by the late hour and the thrill of being allowed to wander the empty museum, and if you were being honest, you really wouldn't have wanted to stop it. You wanted to give in to the romance of the city and the priceless treasures on display and the heady conversations with Marcus. You wanted to be exactly where you were, with exactly who he was, doing exactly what you were doing and feeling exactly how you felt as he thrust into you and grunted your name like a chant while you traced the lines of the Nike with your lust-blown eyes.

You didn't make it to the Richlieu wing until a year later, on a sunny Saturday morning with your new husband Marcus.

--- Just-here-for-the-moment’s masterlist

Roll call: please message me if you don't want to be on my "all fics" tag list!

@221bshrlocked @danniburgh @starlightmornings @honestly-shite @spacedilf @anaaaispunk @silverwolf319 @greeneyedblondie44 @maxwell–lord @nicolethered @the-queen-of-fools @driedgreentomatoes @juletheghoul @dihra-vesa @anxiousandboujee

[inkdemon-whore]

✦—uwu new pinned—✦

【archives: C.O.R.E. | 2016-'18 | 2018-'20】

tumblr b-day: february 20th, 2016 January 14th, 2016

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al/alta/alex | 23 | he/him | aspec

fandom hopper | proship | atheistic satanist

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╔═⋆promo section⋆═╗

i’m usin the old post format, so this isn’t really working, but here’s my tgftos fanfic “mo chroí” on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39564708?view_full_work=true

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doin commissions, click here for the post!

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you can also just throw money at me for a cosplay i’m working on. any money i get will be payed as a group/pitch in commission. you can pay $1, $5, $50, whatever you want, so long as the $100 goal is met. when the goal is met, i’ll draw a commission level piece as a thank you to everyone that donated! this goal is set for mid september, and if it isn’t met, i’ll just draw a smaller, less impressive thank you to those who donated

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i'm multi fandom and kinda hyper fixate on one or more for a period of time. here's some fandoms i'm in/i've drawn stuff for:

pokemon ✒

undertale/deltarune ✒

BATIM ✒

steven universe ✒

dream smp ✒

hermitcraft

fnaf ✒

fnf ✒

ddlc

OFF by mortil ghost

yume niki

centaurworld ✒

encanto ✒

the girl from the other side ✒

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AUs/tags ya'll can have cuz i probably won't draw more content for them: player!spamton/darkener!kris (aka tag au), sitting ducks DSMP au/🐷🤝🦆

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blog contains casual swearing, artistic and/or suggested nudity, and maybe sexual jokes. my best assumption of my audience age range is 15 to 30-ish. blog also has some pro-ship stuff. i don't tag swearing or capslock.

here's a blacklist for your filtering needs (it's in account settings [zendesk help], or use tumblr savior [chrome / firefox] or xkit [chrome / firefox]):

★ ya should | ✦ ya could | 〇 if ya wanna

★ NSFW - for text and sometimes added with the tw nudity tag

★ nude - can also include censored/suggested nudity

★ tw ship - for explicitly shippy stuff like brumira or techno and quackity smoochin

✦ ship suggestive - for joke ships, or up in the air shippy vibes. it depends on context and your own view of the art

〇 qpr - queerplatonic relationship

✦ rpf - real people/person fiction, like shipping content creators rather than their smp characters (i don't think i'll ever use this cuz i don't make that stuff, but ya never know)

〇 #🐷🤝🦆 - a qpr qacknobros au tag, adding here because there’s too many to go through and add #qpr to. all of it’s qpr unless tagged with “tw ship”, which is like, one

✦ discourse - there’s not a lot, but it’s a tag if ya need it. it’s mostly if i’m talkin about somethin i’m seein on my dash

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ask and submissions are always open. :P

please, if you like my art, reblog it.

you can use my art as icons, just put "icon by @altadoodler" somewhere visible, like your blog description.

you can also use my art as inspo for fanfiction and fanart! feel free to @ me if ya do so. here's my Ao3 if ya wanna send/gift me fanfics (https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALtaDoodler)

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if i’m on your DNI, just block me. that’s arguably better than me unfollowing you, especially if i’m reblogging your post and you see me in your notes. cuz if i unfollow, i’ll completely forget, probably see your stuff again, and follow again. my memory is trash, just block me so i can’t interact.

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this post will be edited as needed.

a bunch of other stuff, like links n whatnot, that i'm puttin under the cut as to not fill up ppls dash, or mobile viewing of my blog. there's also a lil meet the artist under there that i drew up in like, 20 min, because i realized i haven't done one of those, and it also feels like a good ref for my sona

(tumblrs post beta post editor is fucked rn, i might re-post/re-edit this when it’s not trash, i just wanted to add some stuff while i was thinkin about it)

Dream SMP boundaries carrd: alldreamsmp.carrd.co

Dream SMP boundaries blog: smp-boundaries

My pro-ship answers: [-1-] [-2-] [-3-] tl;dr, it's just art, fiction =/= reality, i do not support irl incest/pedophilia, i should have said something sooner but past events made me want to not say anything about it. i'm willing to have a civil discussion about any further questions ya might have, but don't come into my ask with a "kys", hamster murder story, or anything worse.

don't show content creators my ship art of them :/...

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a carrd i found for pro-ship info: https://learnaboutproshipping.carrd.co

post about proship and purity culture: https://fandomeldersintheirthirties.tumblr.com/post/687012217015730176/demongender-vibes-fozmeadows-star-anise-foz

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other blogs i've made/am a part of that have 0 updates, but still exist:

https://knutmeg-aesthetics.tumblr.com

https://www.tumblr.com/blog/view/800plus-pkmn-propaganda

https://honest-undertale-confessions.tumblr.com