some loathing

cuddles-and-chocolate-cake  asked:

How about a Musician!AU with Elucien?

Elucien Musician AU: See now this one is right up my street. Because Lucien was born to be musical tbh. Okay, okay I can’t remember if I’ve posted about this before (I don’t remember) but @pterodactylichexameter and I turned this vague idea into a whole Thing a little while back. I will now share the vague idea with you. (This also kind of fits the elucien/modern AU ask I got too) 

The three Archeron sisters are all involved in their local ballet production. Feyre does most of the set design and creation. Nesta and Elain are both dancers but Nesta is the only one of the two who is naturally suited to it. Elain tries, she really does, but there’s just something about Nesta that was made for this in a way that she wasn’t. But that doesn’t matter. She loves it a lot and she enjoys herself. 

Lucien is an assistant, he mostly helps Feyre out backstage and just sort of generally floats around doing odd jobs here and there. However he spends a lot of time crushing on the very pretty dancer who almost always seems to have some kind of flowers included in her costume (Azriel is their costume expert and he always makes sure there’s a little personal touch in all the dancer’s costumes. Nesta has fire but Elain always has some kind of flower) Or insisting that he definitely does not have a crush on the very pretty dancer with flowers on her costume (he is fooling no-one. (except Elain who is too sweet/oblivious and this all goes entirely over her head (or at least she pretends it does anyway, she doesn’t want to embarrass Lucien))) 

The real reason Lucien puts up with coming to all of the rehearsals even when there isn’t really that much for him to do except babysit Tamlin and make Feyre the odd cup of tea while she paints is discovered by Elain a few weeks into rehearsals. She, Nesta and Feyre have wandered all the way along to the bus stop before Elain realises that she’s forgotten her phone and her purse. Insisting that her sisters just get the bus and not walk all the way back to the theatre with her in the pouring rain, Elain runs back on her own. 

Grateful for the shelter of the theatre she hurries around backstage before she finds what she’s looking for and is about to head off before she hears soft, familiar bars of one of her favourite pieces in the production being played. Curious, she follows the music and peeks out onto the stage, wondering why the aged old piano player who’s been doing this for years and knows every piece back to front, is bothering to stay so late. 

She gets a shock then when she recognises the long red hair and pale, delicate, long fingered hands of Lucien moving over the piano tucked onto a corner of the stage instead. Transfixed she watches him, completely forgetting about going home, lost in the flowing lines of his body as he moves with the familiar rhythm of the piece, how his hands fly deftly across the keys, how beautiful he looks, how happy, an expression she knows she’s never truly seen on his face until now. 

His eyes are closed, his back to her, so lost in the music that he hasn’t noticed he’s being watched by a doe-eyed young dancer who can’t take her eyes off of him. That is until Elain fumbles her phone trying to put it into her bag without looking away from Lucien and drops it on the floor instead with a very loud clatter. Lucien jumps like a cat that’s just been given a bad electric shock and Elain turns bright red and they both start babbling and apologising at the same time. 

Lucien jumps away from the piano as though he’s only just remembered he’s violently allergic to it, now flushing a deeper crimson than his hair and muttering to her, asking her to please not tell anyone about this. Elain tentatively walks towards him and tells him slowly, hesitantly that she, she won’t, she won’t tell a soul…But only if he finishes that piece. Lucien blinks at her in surprise, raising an eyebrow and regaining a little of his composure now the shock has worn off a bit. Elain blushes again and tells him that it’s her favourite. Lucien hesitates and rubs the back of his neck saying that he doesn’t usually play in front of people, that’s one of the reasons he comes here and waits til everyone is gone and…But Elain is smiling at him so broadly and looking so eager and enthusiastic that he just…can’t say no to her. He pats the bench beside him and she happily hurries over and sits down beside him and watches him as he plays through the entire piece for her. 

They’re very close and everything feels very warm and they’ve liked each other for so long and Elain is murmuring that that was so beautiful and she had no idea he could play like that. Lucien flushes again (there’s a lot of that going round) and mumbles that he usually keeps it quiet. He can’t practice anywhere else and no-one seems to mind him playing this one after rehearsals. Elain smirks and asks him if that means no-one’s noticed and Lucien grins a little bit and agrees that she’s quite right. Elain squeezes his hand and promises faithfully that she won’t share his secret with anyone else. Kissing happens this night. 

After that Elain starts making a lot of excuses to stay behind at the theatre and listen to Lucien play. Initially he’s still a little uncomfortable and can only properly lose himself in it if she makes sure and hides backstage. But he gets more comfortable around her and he plays for her while she practices her dancing sometimes and other times he just plays for the look on her face when she listens to him, the way she smiles for him. It’s all very fluffy and sweet and precious and piano playing!Lucien is deeply Important to me. Now you all know. 

((also yes, they definitely bang on the piano at least once)) 

I love the pairing of Robron. Pairing Aaron Dingle, an emotionally stunted mechanic with a penchant for theft and stuffing people in boots whilst looking surly (but also looking bloody gorgeous, lbr) with Robert Sugden, the affection starved arrogant trashmouth, who has some serious self-loathing issues and internalised homophobia, and is used to being told he is useless and therefore believes that he is, is fucking genius. 

They both became so soft together?! I mean, Aaron Dingle was willing to stand in front of his family and have a first dance and a kiss? WHO ARE YOU!! Robert Sugden, usually ‘suave’ high flying business man, has moved into a small room above a pub, is taking care of his husband’s sister, is declaring his love for a man to any and all who want to hear it? WHAT IS THIS GLORIOUS SHIP?!?!

These two idiots are so in love that they have completely broken down without each other. They are so dependent upon one another that they cannot function without the other, and with their communication issues, this has only gotten worse, but WHAT IS LIFE EVEN WHEN THESE TWO GLORIOUS IDIOTS ARE SO IN LOVE AND I can’t even.

Been having some art self-loathing recently, so I decided to go back to my old default: portraits of creepy people. My take on a Reaperized Jack Morrison.

This’ll be a digital painting. I’ve been flopping around between digital styles a lot when I really should have been developing one thing, and since I’m actually pretty decent at painting, I think I’m going to try and focus on it. We’ll see how that goes.


In case you were wondering what happened to Alex’s backbone in season eleven, 
apparently he left it somewhere in season ten.

How to Hate Yourself

If you have stumbled upon the realization of what you really are, you may be so delighted that you are looking for a way to balance all of the love you feel for yourself and the world. You may want to develop some self-loathing to bring yourself back down to earth, so that you can fit in with society more easily. Self-hatred is fairly simple to cultivate. It is so simple that some people manage to hate themselves without even trying.

The first thing you need to do in order to hate yourself is to work on your ignorance. You have to forget what you know and pretend that you are something separate from everything around you. Imagine that the sun in the sky has nothing to do with you. Imagine that your life is not dependant on other people. Imagine that the food you eat magically appears on your fork without any contribution from farmers, or grocery store clerks. Imagine that you did not come from a mother, who came from a mother, who came from a mother, all of whom lived lives full of love and struggle. Imagine that nobody has ever loved you. Once you can imagine, fully, convincingly, that you are separate from everything around you, then you can begin to close your eyes to the beauty in the world.

When you look at a flower, pretend that it is just a plant. Pretend that its colors are unremarkable, and that its scent is just another smell. If you are able to ignore the beauty of nature, you can begin to see what it would be like not to find yourself so beautiful.

In order to develop some real self-hatred, you have to pay attention to your thoughts. You have to compare yourself to others and find ways to measure yourself so that others seem like they are something special, which you are not. You may have to imagine that there is something particularly wrong with you. Imagine that you don’t deserve to feel happiness. If you practice telling yourself these things day and night, you might find some relief from all the love and beauty that you know is at the core of your being.

There is actually no need to learn to hate yourself. Although opening yourself up to your connectedness to everything, and the tremendous love that you feel, may seem overwhelming, you can handle it. Be patient, let your love flow, and wait for society to catch up to you.

after nearly a YEAR AND A HALF of not knowing who’s chained the multiverse

You Ditched Me!

Summary: Dean and Cas went missing after killing Dick Roman. Crowley took Kevin and Sam left off on the road. That meant you were all alone for the first time in years. A year and a half later you find yourself in the hospital with a bad injury. The doctor gives you two choices: Stay in the hospital till your healed up, or call a family member to take you home. Seeing your all alone, you find yourself calling Dean’s phone just to hear his voicemail, only Dean himself. 

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Henry Winchester (mentioned) Kevin Tran (mentioned), Reader.

Warnings: Language, blood, some slight self loathing/doubt, angst.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

A/N: This is for my SPN Season 12 Countdown Challenge for @waywardsons-imagines. My prompt was number eight: “I thought you were dead.” I hope y’all enjoy!

Originally posted by zest-wincest

Keep reading


Can you even dare to look or bear to think of me,

This loathsome gargoyle,

Who burns in Hell, but secretly yearns for Heaven…

beauty and the beast: a few thoughts

To be honest, right now I actually have a lot more feelings towards this movie than I was expecting. The devout Beauty and the Beast fan that I am–one of the stories that means more to me than any other in the world–I’m not dancing for joy, but I’m happy

I thought a lot of things about it were beautiful, and yet my enjoyment was, admittedly, marred by changes they made (and a certain Emma Watson they cast cough cough). It wasn’t as if they weren’t good changes or as if there were a lot, but if I knew why they made them, I immediately spotted plot holes with them two seconds later.

I even recall getting a little weary in the middle, but Tumblr–believe it or not, I will say this. It was a lot better than I was expecting. On its own, and even relating to the story, it is a good movie.

So, while in some ways, I was torn, there were moments that I cried, moments that I rejoiced, and moments where I just breathed the magic of it all in. And either way, while I wasn’t as giddy as my sister-in-law in leaving the theatre, right now, I feel like I’m a princess all over again (a rather tired and droopy-eyed princess, but that’s beside the point.)

The point is, I saw my favorite fairy tale, and while it could have been better (one day followers I will be cast as Belle and it will all be perfect trust me), I will see it again.

like more specifically and hopefully a little more charitably:

body positivity has competing access needs like almost nothing else. Some people need to hear “you’re sexy” and some people absolutely loathe being told that and feel intense discomfort at the level of ambient “you are sexy!” messages. Some people need to hear “you’re beautiful” and some people need to hear “you are creative and brilliant and witty and kind, how pretty you are is as relevant to your character as how long your toenails are” and some people need to hear “fuck beauty, existing in public while ugly is an act of courage”.

I am sure there are people who benefitted from that “your tits are great your tits are perfect” message but also, unsurprisingly, there are people who read it and felt as if they were being catcalled.

Personally, “love your body”, when people say it to me, feels like “have you thought about the fact you exist in physical form, a physical form that is one of your most salient features in my eyes? let’s think about your physical form! do you have the correct emotions about it? I demand you start having specific emotions about it.”

This generally causes me to wish to annihilate my body in a cloud of dust.

so, competing access needs. that doesn’t make body positivity bad. but a lot of body positivity doesn’t seem to make even the slightest effort to accommodate or acknowledge those needs. When @so-much-depends-upon-a said that the tits message upset her, she got flooded with dozens of angry anons yelling at her for hating body positivity and ‘shitting on a positive post’. I think body positivity desperately needs to acknowledge:

1) body positivity is really awful for some people, and often this is not because they have internalized prejudices. but even when it is, their distress isn’t less legitimate.

2) people having bad reactions to things that make you happy are not trying to take your happiness away from you. the things that help you can hurt others. the things that hurt you can help others. that’s life.

3) the demand that people made uncomfortable by body positivity suck it up and stop complaining for the benefit of other people who were made happy by the same content is seriously not okay.

Some Women are Smarter than Others

Your poems are too short, she said
and have you ever read Kurt Vonnegut?
you will need to familiarize yourself with the school
of New Journalism
Faulkner was a great writer
read Hemingway
go to Paris
or New York
try to travel
get out of California
California is shallow and vacuous
punk is dead
so you might as well give it up
there’s a new sound
and a new band
and this other band that you have to hear
have you ever read Henry Miller?
Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas bores me
Tropic of Cancer is a better book
don’t drink so much
why must you drink so much?
all the great writers killed themselves
with the drink
work on writing longer stanzas
work on your meter
go back to school
learn from others
learn to paint
or to play an instrument
everyone can teach you something
stop being so stubborn
you have talent but you’ll never go anywhere
not with that attitude

“Okay”, I said

and then as I left
I reminded her,

“It wasn’t the drink that killed Hemingway
it was the shotgun.”

- A. Ramirez

Some Women Are Smarter Than Others, taken from my book of poetry “Man is the Bastard” which you can purchase on Amazon