#I hope this year is gentle | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

feydfuckernation · 1 year

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a lot can happen in a year.

from the beginning of the year to the end of the year, i've been on six or seven new medications (give or take). i went from being unemployed for over a year and a half to having a part time job that pays the same as my last. i went from hardly ever leaving the house to seeing movies and going out with friends. i started doing therapy again. and i rejoined tumblr, something i wasn't sure I'd ever do again. i've never been overly fond of social media to begin with, and i wasn't sure if I was even making the right decision to start using it again. i had been in fandom communities off and on for years, with experiences far more negative than they ever were positive, and i couldn't be sure that this would be any different.

i am so very glad to say i was wrong.

i've talked about elvis on a handful of occasions now, but allow me, if you will, the chance to be sentimental about its significance one last time. prior to june of this year i had no real concept of what baz lurhmann had planned when he released elvis 2022 into the world. yet another musical biopic, this time carried on the shoulders of a relative unknown? i have always had love for baz lurhmann's artistry, but this seemed like a long shot, even for him.

still, it had my attention.

i had given up on any attempts to connect with my family after years of false promises, spending most of my summer feeling isolated from most of the people in my life for one reason or another. i decided I'd treat myself to something after the way the year had gone thus far. knowing my dad liked elvis, i convinced him to go see the movie with me on its opening weekend, thinking we both might get something out of it.

it was, without a doubt, one of the best experiences i've ever had sitting in a theater.

i went on to see elvis seven more times in theaters, each time wondering whether or not the magic would wear off and it would lose its opulent, cinematic luster. in reality, it only ever burned brighter and brighter, giving me a love and appreciation of elvis presley that i wouldn't otherwise have beyond the simple enjoyment of music i had listened to off and on for as long as i can remember. it introduced me to a talent whose performance was so captivating it made me overlook tom hanks in every scene he was in. and, perhaps more than anything, it introduced me to people who were not only like-minded in their experience with this film, but were unwavering in their kindness and their friendship.

elvis is not the entity of my tumblr experience (this being my 4th time interacting on the platform). there are many other people and types of content i have interacted with since starting this blog and, if you have made it this far, i simply want to thank everyone for the memories they have given me at a time when I needed it most.

to the people who colour my dash with their passion for the things they love most. my dash would not be the same without you.

@68special @aconflagrationofmyown @avengen @bcofl0ve @countesspetofi @fantuhsise @feverkitten @flwrs4aust @himbocampus @mamaspresley @obetrolncocktails @skinnyscottishbloke @slowsweetlove @stargiirl27 @steph-speaks @superbatson @thatonemoviefan

to the people whose creations inspired me to rediscover the joy of what it is to make art

@floralcyanide @melis-writes @nathandrqke @she-is-juniper

and finally to my friends, the people who have pulled me out of a shell i didn’t realize i was in. your kindness means more to me than you know.

@ab4eva @areacodefan @bisexualwvtson @burninlovebutler @cryingabtab @cutienerd13 @dreaming-of-hope @elvisfatass @gggoldfinch @itey @karamelcoveredolicity @lavenderelvis @lindszeppelin @lllsaslll @loving-elvis @luluthesandgoose @mxrspng @mymamalife @nora-nexus-34 @powerofelvis @samfangirls @star-shard @troubleinapinksuit and my darling artemis, who is not on tumblr, but holds a special place in my heart regardless

i never expected to have followers, or an impromptu movie club, or even a blog to begin with. i certainly didn’t expect to end the year on a positive note. i am not someone who makes a habit of being particularly optimistic, but i dare to hope that maybe, just maybe, this next year will be better. to all of you reading this, wherever you are, may you find kindness and warmth and many blessings in 2023. may you eat well and heal and continue to grow. may you find comfort in the things you love, and may your new year be rich with the love and support of the ones you hold dear in your life, be it family, friends, or pets. whatever your year may have been, i hope it ends on a better note than it began on, and i look forward to not only sharing new films, but making new memories with all of you.

in the immortal words of elvis presley, "til we meet again, may god bless you. adios."

all my love to you, 🦁❤️

#ily all ya nelly #lion.txt #follow forever #also if i forgot anyone i am literally going to lose sleep tonight please be gENTLE WITH MEEEEEEE #basically if you're reading this? hi. hello. i love you. i hope you're drinking enough water today #never ever doubt your value and your worth as a person #you are a beautiful wonderful human being and i hope you find the love and peace you deserve in 2023 #see you all next year 🦁❤️

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thatmonroe · 4 months

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@the-road-from-calvary @cemeteryfun @mortoinquieto @midnight-blue-blood @ventrue-in-control @apoapsiis @carrionhand @jujulebee @penny-slaying @hazelenergy @duskbornbitchqueen @ssunspotted @misericorsalvator actually personally im incredibly glad life has led me to you. meeting you was a blessing years ago md i hope this next cycle will bring you even more blessings. not to get sappy or anything i know some of you dont like that but for those of you who do... LOVE you and hope 2024 will treat you kind !! mwah!!

#// this goes ooc and also for the other blogs of yours that interact w mia.. im glad you guys are part of my oife and i hope the next year #//will be a blessing and gentle and filled with love and kindness and money and friendship mwah mwah mwah #//also sorry im sure penny will hate getting tagged here but yk :-) 🙈 pretend it makes sense just this once ok!! mwah!

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roomsofmyheart · 1 year

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Merthur Week 2022

Day 1 - “this will be the last time you lie to me.” + smart!arthur

“This will be the last time you lie to me.” Uther’s voice booms in the throne room, empty except for himself and Arthur. Everyone that had been dismissed had scattered quickly at the dark look on the King’s face after Arthur made his proclamation. “Now tell me the truth about what happened with your manservant.”

“I wasn’t lying father,” Arthur responds evenly, his face a carefully constructed mask with years spent perfecting it. “It was not Merlin that was caught using magic. It was someone else using a magic of some sort to disguise themselves as him. What better way of navigating the citadel unscathed than as the personal servant to the Crown Prince?”

Uther’s frown lessened slightly, although he still looked unconvinced.

“Do you have any proof of this?”

Arthur reaches into his pocket as he walks up the empty long table set before the throne and sets a pouch in front of him.

“This was found at the last sighting of the intruder in the tunnels.” Arthur inclines his head towards it as Uther reaches for the pouch and undoes the drawstrings, pulling out a pendant with a shimmering jewel almost the size of his palm attached to a thin chain. “I had Gaius take a look and he said the mark on the back of the gem has traces to a type of illusion magic called a glamour,” he finishes as his father turns it over in his hands to reveal the rune mark etched into the metal. Arthur grips his other hand behind his back to prevent himself from fidgeting. Any sign of weakness could be interpreted as a tell for lying by his father.

Uther takes a moment to run his fingers over the rune before speaking, “How are you sure that this doesn’t belong to your manservant?” He looks up at him, the frown on his mouth settling instead into a firm line and his eyes sharp as the knife’s edge that Arthur meticulously traverses.

He firms his resolve before speaking, “Merlin was found knocked out with a minor head injury in one of the storage rooms. One of the servants found him while we were on the intruder’s tail down in the tunnels. Gaius is treating him for it as we speak.” Arthur gauges his father’s reaction as he finishes.

It appears his anger has died down to a simmer as he takes in Arthur’s words for a moment before speaking.

“Alright then. I want to hear full reports from the guards and have a word with Gaius about all of this when he is done with the boy.” The dismissal is clear in his tone and Arthur is all too glad to take his leave.

Once outside the throne room doors, he heaves in a shaky breath. Lying to his father was always a dangerous path to tread. Not that what he said didn’t have any sentiment of truth to it. Merlin had been found unconscious with a minor head injury, just not in the storage rooms like he said.

Arthur still remembered the brilliant gold flaring in his eyes as he deflected a dagger thrown by his look-alike sailing through the air towards him. He’d been so shocked that the intruder had managed to get a hit on Merlin before escaping but they’d dropped the pendant in the fuss. It had been a lucky thing that Arthur had ordered the guards to split up and search the tunnels. He was able to quickly get Merlin to Gaius’ chambers without running into any of them.

Merlin has magic.

The thought had been put aside until the most urgent matters of this whole affair had been dealt with. Now he turned the thought over and over in his mind as he made his way to Gaius’ chambers. There was no way to pretend that he was mistaken in what he saw. It had been clear as day that the dagger had been sailing towards his heart until its journey was interrupted.

Arthur remembered the stricken look on Merlin’s face, how he desperately shouted his name as he raised his hand to stop the blade in mid-air. Most of all, he remembered the relief in his eyes that had quickly turned to fear. That memory tempered his anger at having such a secret kept from him.

He shook his head to clear the memory from his mind as he reached the threshold of the physician’s chambers.

Magic or not, Merlin had saved his life. And he is the only friend he ever had. He’d be damned if he was ever going to let his father harm a single hair on his head. That didn’t mean that Merlin didn’t owe him some answers though.

Taking in a deep breath, he pushed the door open.

#i know this is late as hell for merthur week #and i finished this a while ago but I didn't like how it turned out and meant to rewrite it #but i despise looking at it now so that probably won't happen #so here you go #a small taste of my writing #god I haven't written a completed fanfic work in years #be gentle in any criticism #because of course it is welcome since I am still improving #just be nice or i'll eat your socks #bbc merlin #merlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #uther pendragon #ficlet #still not sure what a ficlet is exactly #so i hope i tagged correctly #my writing

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araekniarchive · 2 years

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hello! i love the work you do and how you interact with people!!

i was hoping to request loneliness as something comfortable, and how being alone can feel good sometimes even when you’re lonely

Ann Packer, The Dive from Clausen’s Pier

Daphne du Maurier, Rebecca

Susan Sontag, Reborn: Journals and Notebooks, 1947-1963

Virginia Woolf, To The Lighthouse

Ellen Burstyn (attrib.)

gentle.earth

#webs #web weaving #theme: loneliness #theme: happiness #mine #requests #this reminds me of quaker meeting. i haven't been in years but it feels a little like this #ann packer #daphne du maurier #susan sontag #virginia woolf #ellen burstyn #gentle earth #i hope you like it!

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whispers-of-masser · 11 months

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Poor Form

✧ Nebarra x human!LDB, ft. Xelzaz & Khash ✧ Fluff, maybe angst (if you squint), slow-burn with tension; 2k+ word count ✧ Mentions of blood, (poorly written) fantasy violence ♫ "Ritual" - AWAY, Echos ✒ @dalishthunder come take responsibility for this

It was the grey hour when you woke, the quiet lull between full night and the oncoming dawn. From where you lay in the tent, the only sounds you could hear were the steady breaths of your companions, the breeze rustling by outside, and the lone call of a bird, faint and dim in the distance.

Slowly, you sat up, grimacing at your sore neck and shoulders – though you had long since grown accustomed to sleeping on the ground, that didn't mean you, or your body, appreciated it. You'd have to look into getting some bed cots instead. Until then, though...

At least we stay warm through the night. The oiled leather tent kept out most of the wind, and the beasts you'd felled along the journey had long since become the bedding everyone slept on.

A sudden snore drew your attention to where Khash lay, bundled in her sleeping bag beside you, red eyes shut tight and jaw slightly parted, her sharp little teeth on display. Across from her was Xelzaz, sleeping quietly on his side with his back turned towards you; you could just make out the lump of his tail beneath the blankets. And next to him...

...was an empty bed roll, the fur still fluffed, apparently untouched through the night.

Frowning, you pushed back the blankets, habitually reaching for your sword as you rose – just in case, always just in case – and, taking care not to wake Khash, crawled quietly out of the tent.

The morning had teeth. You felt it the moment you stepped outside, the cold biting into your bare arms, gnawing through the fabric of your tunic and raising goosebumps across your skin. Your breath plumed white amidst the grey, and the dirt underfoot was cold and hard; not even the morning dew had loosened it. You found yourself wanting retreat back into the tent and burrow under your furs once more, pulling them all the way over your head and falling asleep beneath their warmth. Any other morning, you might have done just that. But...

The empty, untouched bedroll.

You squinted into the mist, eyes searching, searching... there. A figure, seated on a rock several metres away, smudged and blurred in the gloom, but glinting a familiar gold.

As you lowered your sword, a sigh slipped from your lips, drawn from some strange mix of frustration, concern, and relief.

"...How long have you been out here, Nebarra?"

"Morning to you too, guar-face," the elf drawled, and though he didn't rise, his helmeted head turned towards you. A thin layer of condensation covered the metal, droplets falling at his movement; his bangs, escaping through the visor, were damp and plastered to his helm. "And all night, to answer your question. Somebody has to keep watch."

"Obviously. But you volunteered for the first shift last night." Frowning, you looked him up and down, not bothering to mask your concerned displeasure. "Why didn't you wake me or Xelzaz? We could have relieved you. We were supposed to relieve you."

"Oh yes, a human and a lizard! I'm certain I'd feel very safe with you two on watch. Your species' eyesight is so much better than an Altmer's, after all."

Your frown deepened, brow furrowing as you stared him down. It was too early in the morning for his snark.

Wordlessly, you brought up your sword and levelled it at his throat. "I can see that gap in your armor just fine. I could kill you right now – and the same goes for whatever may have come up on us in the night."

Nebarra gave a disdainful snort, gloved hand clamping down on your blade and giving a sharp tug. Unprepared, reflexes still sluggish from sleep, you stumbled a whole two steps forward before managing to check yourself.

"Poor form," the elf sneered. "You won't be killing anything like that."

Your nostrils flared, a dozen retorts surging to your lips, but you held them all in.

He's right, and you both know it.

"I wasn't ready", "I'm still waking up", "I wasn't serious" – excuses that could get you, and maybe the others, killed. How long had Nebarra seen this in you? Why was he only mentioning it now? Why hadn't you realised it on your own, that despite your confidence, your skills, your strength – you were still very much mortal? And when had that confidence become something more dangerous – arrogance?

"...What?" Nebarra asked suddenly, drawing you from your reverie. "You have that expression again. The one where you're about to do something stupid."

"Spar with me."

"Terrible idea, absolu... wait. What?"

"Spar with me," you repeated, staring into the black of his visor. "I'm getting rusty, fighting nothing but bandits and mindless undead. This just proved it."

Nebarra was silent for a beat, his head tilting to the side. Something about the motion reminded you of a bird; the eagle-shaped helm only added to the effect. You waited patiently for his answer, wondering what exactly he had to consider –

Metal, arcing toward your sword arm.

You barely managed a dodge and a weak parry with the flat of your blade – you'd been holding it low, unready. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Clearly, Nebarra was done thinking – the two of you were sparring now.

Fair enough. Enemies wouldn't be so polite as to give you time to gear up, either. And now, for once, the odds weren't in your favour: a fully-armoured Altmer veteran with decades of experience, versus you, young, disoriented, and unarmored, only a single blade in hand.

It was thrilling.

You sidestepped another swing of Nebarra's blade – only to connect with it a moment later, coming out of the feint you had failed to read.

Sharp, stinging pain. Scarlet, dripping from your arm.

He was trying to hurt you. And you were giving him ample opportunity.

You needed to ground yourself, regain your rhythm – something you couldn't do without an opening, and Nebarra wasn't giving you any.

A glint of metal on the left – block, step back. Movement overhead, an oncoming blow – raise your sword, throw your weight behind it, disrupt his momentum.

At least, you tried. Fully armoured as he was, Nebarra had an extra thousand angaids of weight behind his swing, if not more. The sheer force of his blow knock your sword out of your hands, sending you staggering back. But the grass underfoot was slick with the morning's dew, and you were moving too fast, too unsteadily. Before you knew it, your back was colliding with the ground, and all you could see was grey sky overhead – and a golden sword coming down.

Careless.

But there was still a chance.

Contorting violently, you grabbed Nebarra's arm as the blade sailed by, nicking your face as it passed. You didn't let go of his arm just yet, though. Instead, you pulled, leveraging your weight against his, abdomen taut as you used him to haul yourself upright. Nebarra, clearly not expecting such a move, found himself betrayed by his own momentum, drawing him forward and down, aided by your weight. Gravity took care of the rest, and he crashed towards the earth, twisting even as he fell to avoid face-planting into the ground.

As he struggled to right himself, you rushed to retrieve your sword; Nebarra was already rising by the time you turned back to him.

"No you don't," you growled, charging the mer, sword raised.

His hand shot out, a ward rippling to life, though it buckled slightly under your sword's impact. Nebarra staggered, his half-risen stance precarious, unbalanced.

Now. Now. Now.

Once, twice, thrice more your sword glanced off the ward – and on the fourth blow, it shattered, leaving the Altmer open to your assault.

Metal clanged as you brought your sword down, colliding with his gauntlet as he struggled to block with it, not given enough time to raise his own sword in defense. You let the blade slide off, intending to follow up with its momentum, but Nebarra didn't give you a chance. The moment the sword glanced off his gauntlet, he lunged, catching you in the abdomen and bringing the both of you to the ground.

The tussle that followed was a blur.

His sword arcing down, yours blocking. Hilts catching, blades flying, yanked out of your grasp and his.

Panted breaths, heaving chests, grappling and rolling across the grass.

A glint caught your eye – your sword and Nebarra's, just within reach.

He saw it too, the both of you reaching out in unison for your weapons, desperate to be faster than the other.

Leather-bound metal brushed against your palm – the hilt. Your hand closed around it, drawing it in close. Brought it swiftly upwards, blade against Nebarra's neck.

At its touch, he froze – and so did you. Because resting against your own neck, biting into the tender flesh, was the edge of Nebarra's blade.

Stalemate.

Ears ringing, heart racing, you shift your gaze from the sword to the one holding it.

Hunched over and straddling you, a leg to either side of your waist, there was hardly any distance between your bodies. The beak of his helm was close enough to brush your nose; your breath fogged on the metal. His gasping breaths may has well have been your own – you could feel them, swift and hot, slipping through the gold feathers that covered his face, carrying the faint scent of wine.

Of course, he'd been drinking. It had probably kept him warm through the night – and he'd still managed to keep you off-balanced for most of the fight.

You were in worse shape than you'd thought.

That, or... maybe Nebarra was better than he'd ever let on.

"...Tonight," you breathed, staring up at him. "Let's... spar again tonight."

Nebarra grunted; you could hear the sound echo faintly in his helmet. "Fine. Don't expect me to go easy on you."

A smile tugged at your mouth – you could feel your lips crack and stretch at the motion, dried out in the cold; you gave them a brief lick before answering. "What, and this was?"

Another affirmative grunt. "I'll be sober by tonight. Unfortunately."

You snorted, then fell silent once more. With your eyes, you found yourself tracing the curves of his helm, pausing at the sight of his bangs peeking through, dark and tangled threads of gold. Something about them was like an itch you couldn't scratch, and you had the sudden urge to brush them aside, or at least tuck them back into his helm.

As your gaze drifted upward, toward the visor, a glint in its shadows caught your eye. Again, you paused, staring intently into the dark.

A reflective sheen, a gleam of crimson –

"Are you done breathing on one another, yet?"

Xelzaz's voice shattered your focus, and both you and Nebarra snapped your heads toward the sound.

The Argonian stood just outside the tent, arms crossed, head bare of its usual hood, scales shimmering in the pale light. Beside him was Khash, a shadowy smudge in the mist; her wide red eyes seemed to float amidst the grey.

"Good morning," you said stupidly, even as Nebarra scrambled to get off you.

"Why were you fighting?" Khash asked. "Did something happen?"

"For your – obviously necessary – information," Nebarra sniffed, dusting off his armour, "we were sparring. And you had better get used to it. Our dear Dragonborn and I will continue to do so, apparently, starting today."

As you sat up, you distinctly heard Xelzaz mutter, "By the Hist." When he turned his head to you once more, there was something incredibly deadpan about his gaze, an unspoken, "Really?" in his eyes.

"What?" you mouthed back, blinking at him in confusion. He only shook his head, and have no answer.

"Right... Well, let's get the fire going again, and I'll see about getting us all breakfast."

At that, Khash's gaze snapped towards him. "Ohh, Xelzaz, can I have some Hackle-lo with it?"

"Khash, you've eaten almost my whole stock."

"Oh..."

"...I'll see if I can't spare a few more."

"Yay! Heh."

"Horker stew for you, Nebarra?"

"I'm too tired to say no... but I'll watch you every moment of its making."

"Yes, yes, as usual. And what of you, friend?" Xelzaz turned towards you, and for a moment, you couldn't answer him – you'd been too distracted watching the scene unfold, a smile on your face.

"Ah... it doesn't matter to me, I suppose. Surprise me."

And so, thirty minutes later, as the sun climbed through the sky and burned away the mist, breakfast was served.

But for some strange reason, all throughout the meal, you found your gaze drawn... repeatedly...

...to Nebarra.

#nebarra #nebarra skyrim #skyrim nebarra #skyrim #i havent written action in YEARS i hope its passable #i tried to remember what my two whole gumdo lessons were like back in high school :DDD #also fyi i know ZILCH abt tes lore n stuff so uhhh pls be gentle w me on that front #i literally spent ten minutes looking up tamrielic weight measurements and then trying to convert that it to pounds and back #and apparently its only referenced in a book that appears in like four of the games so its clearly an OLD book #likely that tamriel doesnt even use that unit of measurement anymore but damnit i wanted to get SOMETHING accurate #anyway that was quite enough research for me tyvm #like mate i just wanna romance this sardonic sunflower #speaking of which i wanna give him flowers?? dont ask me why i just do #give him a boquet of yellow mountain flowers like #'i saw them and thought they looked like u'#to which he scoffs and VERY GRUDGINGLY accepts ONE #prolly tells us to give the rest to khash or xelzaz #fast forward several to months later and somehow we find that one flower v carefully pressed n preserved amongst his belongings #dont touch me i just made myself sOFT thinking about this #im literally gonna have to write it now dammit #dali this is all ur fault u have unleashed the floodgates of my garbage bin brain #........thank u :D #anyway yeah this was originally written for my ldb oc which is why the personality of the ldb here may be a bit.... specific? idk #just swapped pronouns to make it more self-insert/other people's oc friendly #anyway thank god its finally done; only took me three days #not super happy with the ending but oh well #'swhat happens when u dont write for over a year #rUST #rusty as lbd's fighting in this fic #whisper writes

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