#If I get any inspiration I might draw something next week

[kira-light0]

Don't forget to stay hydrated. Water is more important than cuddling.

I had a lot of free time today, so I decided to draw them. Unfortunately, I can not draw neither a table nor a glass of water, but at least Kirk and Spock are decent.

[bweirdart]

EVENT OVER! THANKS EVERYONE WHO JOINED IN U ALL DID AN AMAZING JOB <3 SEE YOU AGAIN NEXT YEAR IN MARCH FOR #mARTch OR NEXT OCTOBER (2024) FOR A NEW SET OF PROMPTS!!!!!

OC-TOBER 2023 PROMPTS!!

general tag: #oc-tober / my prompts: #bweirdOCtober

F.A.Q:

Do I have to draw EVERY DAY?

NO! I highly encourage skipping as many days as you need to avoid burnout! There are 10 main days in the event (marked with a ⭐ star) that you can focus on if you don't feel up to doing every day, or you can choose your own adventure and just do the prompts you personally like!

Do I have to DRAW?

NO! You can also write fanfiction snippets, repost older art that fits the theme, tweet headcanons/backstory, roleplay in-character as your oc ... genuinely anything that fits the theme is OK!!

Can I start early?

YES! I understand some people work at a slower pace and might need a head start! So long as you wait until October to post it, you can start working as early as you need!

I missed the start of the event .. do I have to catch up?

NO! Please don't stress about days you missed, you're allowed to just skip to the current prompt!

RULES:

1. MAKE FRIENDS! The community is the best part of this event .. please try to follow new people, ask questions about ocs you like, compliment people's styles, ask friends to create with you, etc!

2. TAKE IT EASY! Skip a day if you're tired, busy or just not interested in the prompt. You don't have to catch up on it later. This is supposed to be fun, not work!

3. BE KIND! Please think about the people around you - don't give people unwarranted harsh criticism, content warn for themes/imagery in your work that could trigger someone, don't create anything hateful, etc

MORE:

text version / tips and ideas on bweird.art or below ↓

star = main prompts | no star = optional

INTRO WEEK

1: FAVE OC ⭐

-Which of your characters is your favourite right now?

2: NEW OC

-Who is your newest OC?

-Design a new OC right now

3: OLD OC ⭐

-Do you remember the first OC you ever made?

-Is there an OC you haven't drawn in a long time?

4: RE-DESIGN

-An OC who has changed a lot over the years

-Take an old OC and update their design right now

 

BACKSTORY WEEK

5: RELATIONSHIPS ⭐

-Who is important to your OC?

-Do they have a partner?

-Do they have a best friend?

-Are they close to their family?

6: SYMBOL

-What imagery do you associate with your oc?

-Are there any colours, flowers, animals or concepts that symbolize them?

7: PERSONALITY ⭐

-How does your OC behave?

-What are their positive traits?

-What are their negative traits?

-Are they extroverted or introverted?

8: PAST

-What was your OC like as a child?

-Where did they grow up?

-Are there any significant moments from their past that shaped who they are?

9: FUTURE ⭐

-Does your OC have a goal they're working towards?

-What will your OC look like when they get older

-Do you have a planned ending for their story?

PALETTE WEEK

10: pumpkin patch palette

#251604 #1E3807 #5B5E1A #A2A657 #EBA00F #F3ECCC

11: hot cocoa palette

#520B13 #BB382E #E27E6D #88392C #AF5D40 #E1AFA4

12: midnight zone palette

#000007 #000049 #183885 #004D4F #0E8788 #FFF1C0

13: peachy palette

#DE6450 #DB9171 #FFC1AE #FEE1AD #FFF2E0 #D9D8D8

14: haunted house palette

#552506 #6E25AA #ED690B #F925A0 #8F8BA7 #A6C1AA

FUN + GAMES WEEK

15: MEME ⭐

-Post memes that remind you of your OC

-Draw your OC as a meme

-Fill out a character meme (classic deviantart style)

16: FOOD

-What is your OC's favourite food?

-What is their least favourite?

-Can they cook?

17: EYES-CLOSED ⭐

-Draw your OC with your eyes closed! No cheating!

-Write a scene without looking at the keyboard! Keep the typos in!

18: SWAP

-Swap the style or aesthetic of two of your OCs

-Species or gender swap AU

-Invert an OC's colour scheme

19: INSPIRATION ⭐

-Is your OC inspired by any pre-existing characters?

-Are there any particular songs/lyrics that inspired something about one of your OCs

-Do you have a dedicated pinterest moodboard for your character?

20: INVENTORY

-What does your OC carry around with them on a daily basis?

-Are there any objects that have sentimental value for them?

-Loot drop for your DnD OC

 

FRIENDS WEEK

21-25:

There's no specific daily prompts for this week, but here are some ideas you can try ...

-Art trades with friends who are doing the event with you

-Your OC interacting with a friend's OC

-Gift art for someone whose OCs you like

-Work together and collaborate on something with a friend

-Roleplay an OC scene together with someone

 

HALLOWEEN WEEK

26: FEAR ⭐

-What is your OC scared of?

-Draw one of your OCs trying to scare the others

27: MONSTER

-Do you have any monster OCs? (eg: vampires, werewolves, creatures, ghosts...)

-Draw a human OC as a monster

-Design a new monster

28: TRICK

-Play a trick on an OC

-Do you have an OC who would play tricks on people?

29: TREAT

-What is your OC's favourite halloween candy?

-Give an OC a special treat to make up for yesterday's trick

30: MAGIC

-Do any of your characters have magical powers?

-Give an OC a magical or cursed artifact

-Create a magic-using OC like a witch or wizard

27: COSTUME ⭐

-What is your OC dressing as for halloween?

[vitaminseetarot]

PAC: What Hobby Should You Begin Next? 🎨🛶📯

Sup y'all, it's time for a new pick a card reading (this one's especially for you night owls out there as I'm posting this at midnight lol). Ideally, I'd like to post one PAC every week after this but eh, lettuce see about that. 🥬👀

This pick a card was inspired by the remaining energies of late Taurus season. The grass is bright, the air is warm, the flowers are blooming, and it's brought out the artist in me. While I've been finishing a leisure painting, I stopped to draw out some cards to help out anyone who's in the mood to do something fun in their spare time but could use some direction or guidance.

Pick any one of the four Prism Oracle cards below, or its corresponding crystal/emoji, to see what hobby you could explore next, or if there is a hobby you enjoy that is calling for your attention:

Pile 1 - Consciousness + Moonstone 🌙 Pile 2 - Happiness + Carnelian 😊 Pile 3 - Creativity + Amethyst 🎉 Pile 4 - Determination + Citrine 🧭

Pile 1 - Consciousness + Moonstone 🌙

77 Beginnings, Sound+Resonance+Frequency, The Musician, Capricorn Rising - Aspire; Page of Swords, Page of Wands, 9 of Cups, Knight of Swords, XI Justice

Wow, pile 1, I think you have the most obvious answer of all four piles. You're very drawn to pursuing something musical. It could be in a variety of ways. You might try singing, writing a song, playing an instrument, learning to dance, or perform in musical theater (the purple curtain in the Justice card definitely brings theater to mind). You could enjoy collecting vinyl records, or producing music through special programs and apps. You may desire to publish your music online, or dream of going big on stage and signing major contracts with labels. Two Pages tells me you're most likely into more than one thing, as plenty of musical artists can multitask.

Your pile was the only one to get two Prism cards at first as Anxiety initially wanted to pop out. It's also clear that with two Pages and the Beginnings card, you're very new at this hobby. There's an over awareness of this fact, that on some level you may not know where to even start. There's some doubt I sense that you feel you can't be at the level you wish to stand on. Capricorn energy wants to reach for the very top of the ladder in accomplishment; it is a steady energy although not intent on settling. I get that there are many people here who greatly look up to an artist and wish to have their same talents. Try to look past the smoke and mirrors of all the top 40's singers and know that music is way more accessible than it's made to look.

Try embracing the newness of this pursuit, pile 1. It's okay to be a little lost, or feel that there's a long way to go. The only way to go pro is to start small and grow. There are a lot of free resources online for learning music (try out musictheory.net for free lessons) and free vocal technique lessons on Youtube. Some people are very lucky to have the chance to start learning at a young age, but if we were to set a rule stating that only those who did so could play, that would leave a lot of creative geniuses and successful musicians out of the frame. If you're learning to play the keyboard, practice one song or even one note at a time (doesn't have to be Chopsticks, lol). Consistency is key.

When the inspiration and joy to explore music finally strikes you, take the time to really dive in and make something small. If you're trying to write a song, start with a jingle. If it's music theory you want to go over, start with just 1 lesson and see how it feels. If you're learning to dance, begin with warm ups and slow music before working on the more intense songs. Are you looking for writing inspiration? Keep plenty of notes on hand and learn how to identify music so you can easily write a melody down (there are empty music notebooks for this). If this is something you would like to do in the long term, then continue to practice with that perspective by not overdoing it to compensate for "lost time". You are exactly where you need to be on your creative journey.

Pile 2 - Happiness + Carnelian 😊

66 The Selves, You Belong Here, The Wise One, Cancer Moon - Intuit; X Wheel of Fortune, Sagittarius ♐, VI The Lovers, 9 of Pentacles, XVI The Tower

What's going on, pile 2? With the Selves card above Sagittarius, I'm getting that a lot of you may be interested in pursuing theater or comedy, whether that's stand up or it's simply channeled through the projects you create. Your next hobby may involve incorporating a lot of humor into what you do. This pile is the most multifaceted of the four, with many differing hobbies, so I'm going to list a variety of different talents, but what binds them all together is the need to express one's own (very) strong opinions for the world to see.

You may want to be a photographer who documents unusual things, or write something that makes a powerful statement. There's a need here to let go of any of the anxieties that come with expressing your authentic self, because while those feelings are natural, listening to them too much will dampen your creative drive. This is the group that wants to make very surreal graffiti art or provocative dance routines. With the Tower card, here, I feel there's a need for the shock and awe to get your inspiration buzzing. On the gentler side, I can see some of you getting into something nature based like flower printing and permaculture but the caveat is that it's a reflection of your genuine self and beliefs in some way. With Wheel of Fortune, some of you may feel an urge to learn about tarot or pendulum reading, as these things are typically categorized as "unusual".

You may also get into traveling to stay involved in your hobby, or it requires roving about in some way. To break down creative blocks, it might help to actually move yourself to a different location. It doesn't necessarily involve moving to a whole new place, it could just refer to another part of your home or you may benefit from walking or dancing to decompress. I feel that moving your body will stimulate your creative ideas to flow through. A small number of you may have considered trying out extreme sports like free climbing or parkour. I don't really need to mention that these can be incredibly dangerous, so some of you may like something similar like skateboarding or gymnastics as well. It doesn't have to be intense, just active.

With the Lovers, there also exists a social aspect to your hobby. You may be drawn to share you hobby with a friend or with partners. It will greatly help you to be in an environment that supports your avant-garde tastes and not settle for less. It's not always easy to put shocking art with profound messages out there for the world to make sense of it, though some make it seem that way. It's easy to pretend that negative feedback doesn't get to you, but only accept constructive criticism as that will feed you more than shocked reactions. You cannot afford to have others in your life discourage you, as your skill sets require a lot of space for growth. Nourish relationships that want to celebrate your talents with you. Find a community that loves what you love, and wants to see you happy with what you do. Embrace the wild side of your artistic abilities.

Pile 3 - Creativity + Amethyst 🎉

54 Security, the Messenger, The Aspirant, Aries Sun - Assert; 2 of Pentacles, Knight of Wands, 0 The Fool, Aquarius ♒, Virgo ♍

Hello, pile 3. With the 2 of Pentacles, many of you may want to explore a hobby that is both online and offline, or the internet and social media are major components. If you like making artwork, you could be into digital art or simply want to upload images of your offline work for others to see. With Virgo, some of you may have a lot to say, by starting a blog or online journal documenting your life or interests, or you could try out freelance editing. If you were a youtuber, you could be really good at creating epically long videos about niche topics, or short videos explaining how to do a certain task (like tiktoks that showcase a person's routines and what cleaning products they recommend).

I see that this is the pile of innovation, as the Creativity card shows a lightbulb. You could have various ideas pop up in your head, only to feel unsure of how to approach them. Your attention span could split into a variety of different mediums for getting the idea out. Aquarius wants to take its genius energy and spread it around the world. For a lot of you, social media will support your ideas by broadcasting them. Your hobby may directly involve interfacing with others; your creative spark is not for hiding away. Web design, for example, is a hobby but it involves creating something that others will directly interact with. Your work is meant for a wide audience, should you choose to put yourself out there.

This may not always be easy for you, since there could be a pull towards more stable and predictable activities. There's a nervousness here, kind of like imposter syndrome. You may get a really cool idea for a mobile game app before you or someone else goes "but that's an unrealistic goal to spend so much time and effort on", followed by, "how could I ever make something like that?" The thing is, you can be the most talented, skilled, and experienced person when it comes to a subject, yet still have these same worries. Imposter syndrome doesn't magically go away with a college degree, a new job, or 10,000 subscribers. It's completely normal, but make sure to not let your doubts tempt you into doing something more boring and unfulfilling. This is the pile most likely to try a totally new hobby that is unrelated to your other skills, it doesn't have to be realistic.

But also understand that it can take time for something to get really good. Your first fiction draft is gonna turn out clunky, or your app could be filled with bugs, but it's part of the process. There's no perfect time; when you get the urge to try, just try it! Reach out to a local community or chat group so you can get a realistic sense of how long it takes for projects and skills develop. Slam poetry may be a great outlet, so if you'd like to do that, attend an open mic and see how others do it. You are allowed to be imperfect with your hobby--if you wish to evolve your craft, remember the passion and curiosity that brought you to it.

Pile 4 - Determination + Citrine 🧭

57 Spiritual Guide, What Goes Around Comes Around, The Astronomer, Taurus Rising - Enjoy; 9 of Pentacles, Cancer ♋, Queen of Swords, Knight of Wands, Knight of Swords

How's it going, pile 4? So this is the most active and possibly athletic pile we have here. Staying in the house is not gonna work because something is itching you to get out underneath the stars. Could some of you be majoring or planning in major in STEM? I'm getting a lot of natural science here. With the Astronomer card, you could want to use your telescope to go stargazing or visit planetariums. Are you still feeling the buzz from all the aurora storm and eclipse hype? It would not surprise me if these events awoke an interest for you and now you're looking up when the next meteor shower will show up or when Saturn will be most visible in the sky.

Your next hobby needs or is the outdoors on some level. But Cancer energy is that of a homebody. The most laidback people in this group may enjoy relaxing hobbies like birdwatching or gardening. These hobbies could be spiritually fulfilling for you. I'm seeing someone wearing an apron outside, so could some of you be interested in grilling or being the host to a fun party in the backyard. Do people even have book club meetings in gardens? A lot of enjoying nature is simply finding a good spot and soaking in the scenery with no other goal in mind. Just being near trees and beach sides might be enough.

But I see a lot of you mainly wish to have an adventure and go far out in nature when the weather's just right. You could be thinking about hiking or backpacking out on trails. It all depends on your comfort level as we all have different tolerance levels. I don't know if geocaching and pokemon go are still popular, but they can be unique ways to engage with the outdoors. You could try guided nature tours presented by nature conservationists like the National Audubon, where you can identify and take photos of animals as you wander through the woods and plains. You may like a hobby that is seasonally specific, like swimming in warm waters or skiing down a snowy mountain.

Your hobby may have you think deeply about how humans connect with nature, exploring the ecosystem and how our actions influence our environment. Climate change can be a very serious and, for some, directly impactful topic to mull over. Remind yourself that as long as you're respectful (leave no trace), mother nature enjoys your company as much as you do for her. A small few of you may have the urge to travel to weird locations. Two knights in your reading suggest boldness. If you decide to visit an abandoned or haunted place, Queen of Swords says to please be careful and follow rules if it says no trespassing, and remember that abandoned places can be dangerous from faulty wiring and unstable flooring. Overall, I feel this pile just can't do with an indoor hobby. You have the motivation and courage to explore the vast beautiful world out there. It awaits you.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2024, @VitaminseeTarot ™

[waldau]

hii! I've noticed that you haven't written anything for minghao yet (according to your master list) so I wanted to request something cozy and homey with him. like maybe cooking together or waking up together or something along those lines.. :)

hello anon! i was feeling extra sappy with minghao and this also happens to be my first work for him. thank you so much for requesting it, i hope you see this!

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

muse — xu minghao | 1,382 words | fluff

minghao blinks his eyes open to the sound of silence. there’s not much he can hear right out, except for the distant sound of cars going past. he lazes around for a few more moments before giving in and checking the time on his phone.

it’s just shy of six in the morning. he needs to be up and at the studio by nine, but he doesn’t feel like moving just yet. he puts his phone away and turns around to you, to watch you sleep.

the first time he’d ever done it was unfortunately a time you weren’t actually asleep, and he’d ended up staring at you for ten minutes before you woke up and apologized to him, saying that you couldn’t pretend to stay asleep without wanting to burst into laughter.

he still remembers how embarrassed he’d been by that, and how you made it up to him with kisses and multiples reassurances that it had been okay, that he could do it again, that it wasn’t a problem at all, you’d just been caught off-guard the very first time.

the thing is — minghao adores you. he’s in awe of you. to him, no one else on this planet even compares to how exquisite you are. he loves how like-minded the two of you are, how affectionate you’re with him, and how much you support him without even saying any words. of course, he loves going out on dates with you, seeing new places with you, seeing you match the outfits he wears, but this might just be his favourite sight in the world.

this being seeing you asleep on your side, facing him, a hand tucked under your head and the other holding his own. as an artist, he’s used to noticing the finer details about everything he sees, so when it comes to you, he could lose himself for hours noticing every single thing about you that makes him love you more.

minghao gently untangles his hand from your grasp, drawing his own blanket over you properly so that you don’t feel cold. he immediately feels the cold winter air hit his bare arms, and he winces as he gets used to it. he’s going to need to workout before he leaves, because there’s no time for it in the evening. not if he wants to finish work fast enough to come back to have dinner with you.

his fingers itch for a brush. it’s been a while since he’s painted something. the last thing he’d put on his canvas had been a rendition of a sunrise he’d been able to see with you a few weeks ago. it had been magical; the beautiful hues of orange and yellow blending with the shimmering brightness of the sea, contrasting the pale hue of the sky.

but nothing looked more beautiful than you sitting next to him, watching the sun rise and letting the water wash over your legs. he’d been tempted to paint you instead, right there, but you’d dragged him out on a monday morning for inspiration, despite the fact that both of you had work soon, and he wasn’t going to let it go to waste.

but he doesn’t really need inspiration. not when you’re his muse.

he runs his fingers across your face as gently as he can, glad that you’re still asleep. you’ve been having trouble sleeping recently, and he’s glad he’s part of why you’ve been sleeping better. he smiles when he notices two faint pillow creases stamped into your cheek, angry red lines that he hopes don’t hurt you at all. you somehow manage to look even more perfect with them.

he doesn’t know how long he’s been staring at you before your eyes blink open slowly, and somehow his eyes are the first thing that yours find. he holds his breath, waiting for you to speak.

“hao?” you ask, voice croaky. “what time is it?”

minghao checks his phone again. “six thirty-seven. you still have twenty three more minutes to sleep, if you want.”

“mm,” you say, before you roll in closer and pull his arm to yourself. “wake me up at seven, then.” before he can say anything, you look up at him. “aren’t you supposed to leave early today?”

he nods. “do you want me to leave?”

you huff and tug at his arm to pull him closer to yourself, and he goes down willingly. “you know that’s not what i meant.”

“what did you mean, then?” he asks, pinching your nose softly.

you’re used to his teasing by now, so you just roll your eyes throw an arm around his waist. “did you sleep well, hao?”

“really well. you?”

“me too. but…how long were you staring at me this time?”

he feigns shock. “you could tell?”

“i can just…feel it, somehow,” you giggle. “won’t you tell me?”

“do you really want me to?”

“of course,” you say, eyes shining despite the layer of sleep clinging to them. minghao wishes he could spend more time with you like this. it’s almost like you’re forcing yourself to stay awake despite having some more time to sleep, just to talk to him. the thought warms his chest.

“maybe forty minutes? maybe more.”

there’s a grin on your face. “correct me if i’m wrong, but…i think you love me?”

he could just refute it, tease you a little, joke that you’re in too deep, but he can’t. there’s something about the early hours of the morning combined with the fact that he has the honour to wake up with you that makes his heart heavy. he’s lucky to even have this, especially with you.

“you’re right,” he says, voice rough, feeling his waterline sting suddenly. “i love you.”

the grin on your face disappears slowly. “hao? is everything okay?”

“of course it is, darling,” he says, bending down to kiss your forehead, brushing off some rogue strands of hair to kiss it properly, tucking it behind your ear so he can see your beautiful face better. “i love you. is that wrong?”

“no, silly,” you say, leaning up to cup his cheek in your palm. your hand is cold. maybe he should’ve warmed you up better. “you sound…sad. like there’s something eating at you.”

he closes his eyes and indulges himself in your touch, trying to work out his words, marvelling at how easily you can read him. “i…love you. you know that, right?”

“yeah. i love you, too. but…?”

“but,” he sighs, “i just…don’t have the right words to tell you how much i love you. i could say i love you a thousand times, but it wouldn’t be enough. i could kiss you a thousand times and it wouldn’t be enough. i could…i could ask you to marry me but nothing would be enough to tell you how thankful i am that you’re here with me. that you’re mine.”

silence, just the two of you in your bedroom, the sounds of life filtering in from outside the window.

your breath is shaky when you speak. “hao.” you drop your hand down to his arm. “i love you, too. you don’t…i don’t need any grand gestures from you. just…be with me. every single day. be mine forever. that’s it.”

“there’s nowhere else i want to be.”

“then that’s all i need.”

minghao presses a kiss to your head. he hopes it conveys everything he’s feeling right now. he’s about to say something more when your alarm goes off, and he really should get going if he doesn’t want to reach work late.

“see you in the evening?” you ask, hand catching his as he attempts to get to his feet. “maybe we can talk about…getting married? for real?”

minghao hasn’t even opened the curtains yet, and he feels like he’s standing in front of the sun again. he’s going to go to work, do well, come back home to you and hold you and hear about your day and eat with you. he’s going to surprise you with a painting of yourself, and he’s going to marry you. that’s the life he’s built for himself with you, and he loves it.

it’s all he needs to keep going, every single day.

“i can’t wait. i’ll be back before you know it, darling.”

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi @nonononranghaee @hrts4hanniehae @viewvuu @bewoyewo

[roxygen22]

I have been binge watching Timothée Chalamet movies, and seeing him hold Baby Bess as Laurie at the end of Little Women inspired this piece of Wonka fluff.

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Bun in the Oven

For most, it was just an ordinary Tuesday evening. But for you and Willy, it was your third wedding anniversary. You managed to get off work early so you could swing by the bakery to pick up a special surprise for Willy and beat him home to set up.

You pull one of the nice plates out of the cupboard from the set you save for special occasions - a wedding gift from Mr. Crunch and family. This was truly a special occasion for many reasons. You hold it to your chest for a brief moment of daydreaming about your wedding and what's to come. "Oh, I better not get too distracted. He'll be home soon," you mutter to yourself. You grab the box from the bakery and very carefully transfer a cinnamon bun to the plate. Taking a cue from your husband, you add some flair by drawing a chocolate heart next to it before setting the plate in the oven.

You barely got set up and bags put away when you hear the doorknob turn. Willy bursts into the kitchen, waltzing in with flowers and (of course) a box of chocolates. "Happy anniversary, my sweet!" He sets his gifts down on the counter in order to free up his hands to take you into his arms, dip you backwards, and plant an eager kiss on your lips.

Once you are upright again, you grab a vase for the flowers. You turn away from him to fill the vase in the sink, but really you needed a moment to regain your composure. You were so excited that you were about to vibrate right out of your skin. You bite your lip, take a breath, and turn back around to say: "I have something for you, too. Go look in the oven."

Willy cocks his head and furrows his brow in brief confusion before a grin makes its way across his face. He makes it to the oven in one giant step and pulls open the door. Feeling that it wasn't hot, he pulled the plate out. "Oh, this looks scrumptious. Aww, there's even a chocolate heart!"

"Most importantly, there's a bun. In the oven," you respond expectantly.

"Just one? You didn't get one for yourself? I'll split it with you," he says obliviously as he takes a huge bite.

"No, Willy." You huff a laugh because this is *not* going how you imagined. Sometimes you forget that before he founded his chocolate factory, he had not stayed in any one place long enough to pick up on common colloquialisms. "It's a saying. When someone says they have a bun in the oven, it means they are pregnant."

"Ah, okay." He smiles and brings up the bun to take another bite. Before it makes contact, though, he pauses and stares at you, mouth agape with a little bit of icing on his lip. "Oh..."

::Finally, he gets it:: you think to yourself.

"You...? We...?"

You nod excitedly as tears start forming in your eyes and his. As verbose and loquacious as he tends to be, your showman seems to be struggling to utter a coherent thought. "Yes, Willy, we are going to have a baby. Happy anniversary, my love!"

"Huh," he whispered, licking the icing off his lip. "Huh! Oh, [y/n]...this...this is great news!" He picked you up and spun you around. "Oh, I guess I shouldn't do that! I might make you both dizzy."

You giggle and wipe away happy tears as Willy leans his forehead against yours. He pulls you into a hug and buries his nose in your hair, stifling his own tears. You both stand in the embrace for quite a while before he loosens his grip to look you in the eyes, gently cup your cheeks in his hands, and pepper your face with kisses.

"How long? How do you feel?"

"Just six weeks. I've suspected for about a week and confirmed today. I feel okay, just a little nauseous in the mornings. It still feels unreal."

Willy smiled, but then his eyes quickly fell to the ground.

"How do *you* feel, my love?"

"Ecstatic. Hopeful. Scared. I didn't really have a father growing up. I mean, obviously I had a father, but for as long as I can remember it was just me and mamma. And then I was on my own at 15. So I don't really know what it takes to be a dad."

You ran your fingers through his unruly curls. "Just do what you already do best. Love big. Laugh often. Forgive much. And just be there for them like your mother was for you while she was earthside."

With that, Willy kneeled to eye level with your still-flat belly and leaned in. "Hello there, my little cocoa bean." Your heart fluttered as he glanced up at you through his wet eyelashes just briefly before continuing. "I can't wait to meet you. We are going to have so many adventures. But *you* are going to learn to read as soon as you are able so you don't get *almost* eaten by a tiger on these adventures like me, though. Your Aunt Noodle would agree," he giggled. "I'll also teach you magic tricks and how to make chocolate. My mamma, your grandmother, said it's not the chocolate that matters; it's who you share it with. And I can't wait to share it with you."

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

Part 2

I make no claim of ownership for these characters. I just love them to pieces and wanted to share this one-shot.

Side note: Willy would totally be the kind to bring home the fruit or vegetable corresponding to the size of the baby.

[nahoney22]

Dirty Whispers***

All Bad Batch Boys X F!Reader

How the boys react to you talking dirty into their ears in a crowded room.

warnings: NSFW, 18+ only, implied sexual content, flirting, slightly cheesy, explicit language, dirty talk, female reader, with Hunters it’s insinuated that reader has tattoos, with Crosshairs he’s quite dom towards the end. established and non-established relationships. Brief mention of alcohol.

Authors notes: big thanks to @eyecandyeoz & @raevulsix who gave me inspiration for this work as I’ve been drawing blanks all week. 😵‍💫🩵

Echo

The mission unfolded smoothly, with everything going according to plan and the group right on schedule. However, a momentary standstill shifted the focus onto Echo. Amidst surveying the surroundings of the room you're trapped in, you, along with the rest of the team and the five rescued prisoners, identified an accessible circuit that could make or break the situation. Luckily, Echo just so happened to possess the exact tool required for the job.

He gets to work and after a few minutes you get bored of waiting around and found yourself feeling a little... naughty.

You had been flirting with Echo for a long while now and judging by how he acts around you, you're fairly certain he feels something for you aswell. Though his flirting is not particularly reciprocated back, his flushed expression, gentlemanly manners and shy stuttering was too cute to ignore.

You kneel down next to him, everyone else in their own conversations and smile softly at him. "Any luck?"

"This system is a bit intricate. Usually, plugging into terminals and computers isn't a challenge but this coding is new.," he responded with a sigh, his brows furrowing in deep concentration.

Humming softly, you took a daring step, leaning in until your lips brushed his ear, causing his scomp to momentarily pause. "I might have something simpler for you to plug into," you whispered, the hint of innuendo igniting a fire across his skin, his stomach fluttering and excitement stirring in his pants.

He pulled away, wide-eyed and taken aback by your flirtatious advance. Yet, as you tilted your head with a feigned innocence, his scomp spun to life again, generating sparks that held promise. The door hissed open successfully.

"I knew you could do it," you grinned, acting as though nothing provocative had been said, before joining the others in making your exit.

He stands back for a few moments, breathing heavily and wiping the sweat off his brow. "She's not wrong." He mutters to himself with a small smirk, knowing he had to get you alone tonight.

Hunter

When the time came to redecorate your armour, you were happy to design your gear anyway you wanted to. However one day, a certain design catches Hunters attention.

You’re all in the Marauder, going through gear inspections when Hunter came towards you and points to your chest plate. “Mind if I take a look?”

You nod simply, offering him a smile as you unclipped the armour from your body and passed it over. You grew curious however as he traced his finger over a particular drawing you implemented into the artwork. “See something you like?”

He chuckles but nods. “Didn’t take you for someone who likes to doodle.”

You shrug, “Only sometimes. All my armour pieces have different designs.”

“Oh yeah? Mind if you show me?” His eyes dance with mischief and your heart fluttered as you knew he was flirting with you which wasn’t uncommon recently.

Then, a lightbulb appears above your head. You take a step closer to him, glancing at the others who seems to be in their own mind before standing on the tips of your toes towards his ear, lips brushing against his lobe and breath fanning over his skin. “You know… all these customs aren’t just on my gear. I could show you more tonight?”

He inhales sharply and closes his eyes, easily imagining your nude skin etched in designs that you were clearly willing to show him. He looks to his brothers, none of them seeing the exchange between the two of you. “I really like that idea,” then, he leans down to you, his eyes dark with lust as he whispers, “perhaps I could show you some of mine as well, darling?”

Wrecker

Back on Coruscant, Wrecker's confidence was on full display in one of the training rooms, especially when around the Regs. His raw strength turned heads effortlessly. While his captivating personality was what made you fall for him, his powerful physique and his ability to lift ships as if they were mere trinkets only deepened your admiration.

After your own training session, you turned to find Wrecker in the midst of deadlifting an impressive 450kg, surrounded by a group of about 30 Clones. The way his muscles strained against his clothing ignited a sense of heat within you; you couldn't help but be captivated.

As he settled down, taking a swig from his canteen, you approached, your own workout completed, and boldly took a seat in his lap. The unexpected move caught him off guard, but a grin spread across his face as he recognized you. "Hey gorgeous girl, what ya up to?"

A mischievous smirk played on your lips. "Oh, I couldn't resist admiring your workout and felt the urge to come give you a kiss," you replied, leaning in to plant a lingering kiss on his lips. Your satisfaction grew as he emitted a soft moan.

"Babe, the regs are watching," he eventually pointed out, prompting you to open your eyes and glance toward the clones who were suddenly trying to appear nonchalant after having undoubtedly been ogling the scene of your public display of affection.

You shrugged, a devil-may-care attitude in your demeanor, your smirk growing wider. Leaning closer to him, you brushed your fingers along his cheek, your lips tantalisingly close to his ear as you whispered, “I dare you to carry me to the storage unit and fuck me. Hard.”

He laughs but as he sees the lust in your eyes, he knew that you were not just teasing him. “Really?”

“Really.”

Let’s just say the regs were swift to file out the gym when things got a little heated.

Tech

Sitting across the bar from Tech in the, surprisingly, lively atmosphere of Cid's parlour, you couldn't help stealing glances in his direction. His head was buried in his datapad, a not so unusual sight. Amusement welled up within you as you observed his growing agitation, patrons brushing against him, drinks spilling over the bartop and likely onto his clothes and boots. Feeling a desire to relieve his discomfort, you decided to take action.

With a subtle smirk, you retrieved your own datapad and sent him a message that read, 'why don't you come over here?' Watching closely, you noticed him squint as he read the message before his gaze scanned the room until it landed on you. A smile emits immediately on his lips, and without delay, he abandoned his stool and made his way toward you.

"Your message came just in time. I was starting to fear that another drink might find its way onto me and I may not have the patience to hold back," he admitted with a sigh, a quick glance revealing various splatters and stains on his clothes.

Raising your drink to your lips, a surge of boldness surged through you. "How about I help you get out of those clothes?" you proposed, your voice carrying a hint of suggestion.

He briefly shifted his gaze to his device, processing your words before his attention returned to you, focusing on your eyes that shined over the brim of your cup. He seemed to think before speaking, "I must admit, I'm not entirely sure if I'm interpreting this situation correctly. Are you genuinely offering help, or..." His words trailed off as a small group of people moved behind you both, resuming once they had passed. "Or are you implying something else?"

His innocence was endearing and as you take a swig of your drink, eliciting more liquid courage, you turn to him fully and lean forward until your lips brushed against his ear. You feel him shudder under your gentle touch. “I help you out of your clothes, you help me out of mine. And then you can do whatever you want to me.”

He inhaled a sharp breath. “Anything meaning…?”

You giggle, not being able to help yourself as you gently nibble on his earlobe, eliciting a gasp from him and his hand to instantly land on your thigh. “Yes. Anything.”

In a split second, Tech stands and you feared you may have took things too far but then he takes a hold of your hand before leading you out of the parlour and straight to the Marauder…

Crosshair

As you feel an object hitting the back of your head, you pivot to find a toothpick landing at your feet. Your expression tightens into a frown as you scan the surroundings, only to spot Crosshair lounging against the doorway, smoothly placing another toothpick between his teeth. Cockily.

"Real comedian," you quip with a sarcastic tone. However, as you begin to turn away, another toothpick whizzes towards you. A sigh escapes your lips as a small skirmish unfolds, involving toothpick projectiles flying between you and Crosshair.

The confines of the Marauder had kept all of you cooped up for too long, and the signs of boredom were evident. Little did you anticipate that it would be Crosshair who initiated a kind of entertainment, seemingly innocent yet playful, involving the tossing of items back and forth—much to Echo's apparent dismay who told you both to clean up after yourselves.

Later, as you find yourself in the cockpit, steering through hyperspace towards your next destination, Crosshair's foot brushes against yours from the chair opposite you. An involuntary response makes you kick back, and a realisation washes over you: this isn't just playful banter anymore, but a glimmer of flirtation. With a hint of a smile, you and Crosshair have unknowingly transitioned into a game of footsie. But boredom takes over again.

Sitting next to him, the two of you listening in on the bickering between Hunter, Wrecker, Echo, and Tech, you lightly tap your head against the wall repeatedly. His attention eventually turns to you, a hint of a smile gracing his lips. "Bored, pretty girl?" he remarks, causing a delightful flutter in your chest, even though you try to downplay it.

"Yeah, I'm bored," you reply with a sigh, your fingers idly strumming against your thighs.

He starts a sentence but then pauses, seemingly reconsidering his words. You give his shoulder a gentle nudge, encouraging him to continue after a brief silence. He inhales, then turns to face you, his closeness apparent, seemingly unbothered by his brothers' presence who don’t seem to notice you both. "So, how do you think we could change that?" he inquires, his tone laced with flirtation and desire.

Exhaling deeply, feeling your cheeks warm up, you decide to meet his tone. Leaning in toward his ear, your warm breath caresses his skin as you reply, “How about we go to the refresher and you fuck my ‘pretty’ face?”

Your bold and straight to the point answer makes his eyes briefly widen and his fists clench. You watched your eyes intensely, seeing if there was any sign of reluctance but there wasn’t.

He keeps his closeness and speaks, voice raspy and filthy. “Meet me in there in two minutes. You may as well speak to the others before you come in because you won’t be able to move your jaw after I’m done with you.”

Masterlist

If you feel like buying me a coffee 🤗

Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @photogirl894 @fantasyproductions @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @captxin-rex x @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka a @oohyesplease @theroguesully @mustluvecho @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @erellenora @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @imalovernotahater @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad

[comicaurora]

Out of curiosity, how far ahead are you on the comic? I mean, you must have it all planned and written out, but I imagine that you are drawing the future of Aurora even while we're reading it.

So is Arc 2 already illustrated and ready for upload while you're on like Arc 5 or something? I'm by no means undermining your need for a break; I'm shocked that you've been uploading continuously for over 4 years at this point. I'm just interested to know how long it takes a person to make something this great. And also if you change any details in the final edit?

Basically: what's the workflow like?

Also I think you low-key inspired me to pick up painting as a hobby. I'm ready to pour so much money into creating things that I know I'll hate. :)

God, arc 5? That's a very generous assessment of how fast I can draw!

Typically, when the comic is updating regularly, I keep a buffer of 10 to 20 completed pages. Right now, in the interest of taking a break, the buffer is 0 completed pages.

Chapter 1 of Arc 2 is completely storyboarded, meaning it's sketched out, the dialog is all mostly finalized barring last-minute rephrasements, etc. It can be read in its current form, it just looks unpretty. In fact, just for fun, here's a sneak peek!

In the next month I'll go through and finalize as many pages from this chapter as possible - which means locking down the panel borders, fleshing out the backgrounds, lining, shading, coloring, polish, etc. - which will be the process of building up a new buffer for when the comic starts back up again in January. During that time, I'll also be storyboarding Chapter 2 and as much of the following parts as I can manage.

I have the next several chapters and sub-arcs planned out in loose timelines - event A happens at location B leading to consequences C and D, stuff like that. Chapter 2, being the closest, is a little more fleshed-out, with a more detailed bullet-pointed timeline and various character ideas I've had that might or might not make it into the final version.

What exactly the chapter breakdown is going to look like is a little more complicated. Initially I'd planned for Chapter 1 to be low-stakes downtime and Chapter 2 to quickly kick off the high-octane adventure again, but when I started bullet-pointing out the stuff I wanted to do in Chapter 2, I ended up with a big pile of slower-paced character moments I thought were well worth exploring, so the runtimes might stretch a little.

Translating those brainstormed notes into storyboards and dialog is what I would classify as the "writing" part of this process. It happens at an erratic pace largely determined by the whims of whatever muse decides to get me in a headlock that day; sometimes I go weeks with no storyboarding progress, sometimes I hammer out fifteen pages in one day.

It's kinda like weaving, to me. The soon-to-be-arriving parts of the story are the most finalized, the most densely woven. A little ways beyond that, things get looser - some patterns may be locked down, but the actual work that'll hold it together hasn't been done yet. And in the far-flung future arcs, it's just the basic bones of the story and a pile of the threads I've planned to use. I know the shape of it, but in order for it to be fun and engaging for me to make it, I need to give myself room to be creative when I'm putting the whole thing together.

I actually have a file called the "Toolbox" that contains every random character or subplot idea I've had, and sometimes when I'm debating where to go with a chunk of story, I'll crack it open and scan through to see if anything jumps out begging to be used. Lotta fun stuff in there that may or may not ever see the light of day. Dropping stuff in the Toolbox is one of the most fun and freeing parts of the process for me!

[gravehags]

the burn between our hearts

Pairing: Ghouls/Ghoulettes x f!Reader

Rating: Mature

Tags: ghouls doing ghoul shit, depression, tender emotions, surprise papa

Words: 2,524

Summary: You have never felt so lost, so empty before, and you are unsure if what's wrong with you can ever be fixed.

a/n: THIS IS IT the final installment of the ghoul bicycle series. I have had so much fun writing this and who knows, might be tempted to write a little more if inspiration strikes me. See end of post for another note.

~~~

33 days.

It’s been 33 days since you’ve seen or heard from any of the ghouls.

You spent the first two and a half weeks of that in your room, sobbing wildly in bed while Sister Marguerite sat next to you rubbing your back and murmuring words of comfort to you. Truth be told, the steady presence of the middle-aged sister provided a warmth that you desperately needed. She never spoke ill of the ghouls and what they had done to you, instead telling you to be patient. That the Unholy Father always provides. That there’s always more to a bad situation than it seems. All difficult words for you to believe when your heart had been shattered the day after you had left Aurora’s room. Your mind was torn - on one hand you had come to expect this: being cast aside once they were done using you. On the other hand…you really thought you had something special with them. From your first time with Swiss to your last time with Aurora and every interaction with every ghoul in between, you felt like you were finally home. That you had finally found your place in the Ministry, by their sides.

Or not.

After most of your tears dry and your depression lets up to the point where you can leave your bed, you become angry. Fucking infuriated. Even before they were your lovers, they were your friends. And they just ditch you and act like you don’t even fucking exist anymore? Fuck that. One evening, you get so mad you stride down to the ghoul den and begin banging on their bedroom doors, cussing and cursing their names. How dare they treat you like you’re disposable? But that’s been the story of your whole life, you suppose. Everyone gets tired of you eventually. With one last slam of your fist against the wall, hard enough to bruise and shake Cumulus’ door, your tears begin to slip out once more.

“FUCK YOU!” you shout, unsuccessfully holding back a sob. The silence in the corridor is deafening so you turn on your heel and leave without a glance backwards. You don’t see the door at the end of the hall cracking open and eyes watching you go.

You return to your chores in the abbey, ignoring the sneers and dirty glances your fellow siblings give you. You’re well aware you’ve been a nuisance to everyone, being holed up in your room and shirking your duties, and you're wracked with guilt. Sister Marguerite assures you sweetly that it’s okay, everyone goes through rough spells and your absence hasn’t caused any undue burden on the rest of the siblings but you have a hard time believing her. You attend your duties but without any real life in your eyes or spring in your step. When you cry, silently, every once in a while, your sniffles draw rolled eyes and scoffs. The siblings don’t say a word to you, until one day, the dam breaks. You’re in the library and let out a small, embarrassing sob as you shelve a book on love magic when a loud slam echoes throughout the library.

“You are so fucking ridiculous, do you know that?”

You don’t realize she’s talking to you until you turn slightly and see her searing gaze. It’s Sister Tamsin. You don’t know her - not really - but she’s well-liked by a lot of people in the abbey. She’s never spoken to you before this and you frantically wipe your tears as she walks closer to you. A small crowd has been attracted to the two of you now, multiple pairs of eyes shifting between you both.

“Acting this way because of the fucking ghouls. Like you’re supposed to be special or some bullshit. Honey, the ghouls fuck everyone. They can’t help themselves. All of us have had a ghoul proposition us at some point, you’re just the only one stupid enough to fall for it. They’re nothing but fucking animals–”

“They are not animals,” you say loudly in a shaky voice but Tamsin isn’t done berating you.

“--oh look at that! She finally uses her mouth to speak instead of just opening it for ghoul cock and cunt. Go on, sweetheart. Tell us all how those beasts love you so much. Their little whore. Their–”

The slap echoes throughout the large room, but both your hands remain clenched into fists by your sides. Looming over Tamsin’s doubled-over form is Sister Marguerite, looking like fury personified in her neat habit.

“You little cunt,” Marguerite spits, causing your eyebrows to raise. You’ve never heard her swear before. “You know just as well as everyone else in this room - in this whole abbey - how sacred the ghouls are. Summoned by our own Papa from the realm of the Unholy Father to help him spread the word of our ministry. And you dare defile their name - and the name of those they have chosen - for petty cruelty? You are nothing, Tamsin. A jealous little gnat. And rest assured, Papa will be hearing about this.”

No one in the room is stunned quite as much as you as Marguerite abandons the red-faced, humiliated Tamsin in order to come to your side and escort you out of the room with her arm firmly planted across your lower back. When you finally step out of the library, she shuts the door firmly behind her and grabs your biceps, pulling you into a hug.

“Enough is enough,” she murmurs, rubbing your back. “I’m relieving you of your duties for the day. Take care, hon. Go back to your room. I’ll be having a word with our Papa.”

With one last squeeze she hustles down the hall, skirts flying and you’re left shell-shocked in the empty corridor. You rub at your eyes with the heels of your hands before doing as she requested.

Three days pass.

Three days and not a single soul dares look at you sideways let alone speak to you. You notice, with a twisted sense of satisfaction, that Tamsin is nowhere to be found. Not in the library, not in the gardens - you haven’t seen her at mass or in the dining hall. When you quietly ask Marguerite about her she just gives you a beatific smile and says, “she’s no longer a problem for you.” Something within you warns you not to inquire further so instead you go back to your normal life. After you finish a shift in the kitchens for the evening, you step out into the cloisters and head for a small courtyard you enjoy. You plop down onto a stone bench with a heaving sigh, trying to ignore the constant ache in your heart as you breathe in the evening air.

“Is this seat taken?”

Your head whips to the side and when you see a figure dressed in a red tracksuit and the earnest face of Papa Emeritus IV you jump up.

“Papa!” you gasp, curtsying before him. “I–no! Please, sit.”

He lowers himself next to you, putting his gloved hands on his thighs and taking a deep breath.

“Nice out, eh?” he asks quietly. You’ve never seen Papa like this - out of the majority of his papal paints and elaborate robes - and you certainly have never spoken to him in conversation like this.

“Beautiful,” you say, folding your hands in your lap. His eyes lower to watch you rub your fingers anxiously and worry at your cuticles. Gently, he reaches over and places a hand over yours.

“I know you’ve been hurting, sorella,” he murmurs, thumb grazing over your knuckles.

“You…you do?” All of a sudden you’re filled with dread at the thought of your poor mental state and shirked duties being reported all the way to Papa. You open your mouth to explain yourself, to apologize profusely but he speaks first.

“My ghouls,” he begins, “are very peculiar creatures. They don’t take well to most humans.”

“Oh?”

“Sì, sì…they are very protective of each other and of me. And…they don’t take human lovers.”

“They…don’t?”

“Not at all, sorella. Which makes you a very peculiar creature yourself. Something that my ghouls noticed straightaway. Something that they have spoken to me a great length about.”

Your stomach does a backflip and he looks at you with his mismatched eyes.

“Sorella, they wanted me to tell you…it is time. Go to them. Go to the last door at the end of the hallway this evening. I apologize for not telling you more - telling you sooner - but they had much to accomplish and wanted this to be a surprise.”

Your heart feels as if it’s going to burst through your ribcage and tears form in your eyes as you regard him.

“Papa…” you say quietly, your voice cracking, “thank you. Ave Sathanas. Thank you, Papa.”

He smiles at you warmly, and reaches up to briefly cup your cheek before jerking his head towards the corridor behind the two of you.

“Go on, cara. They are waiting.”

Before you can doubt yourself, you plant a brief kiss on Papa’s cheek and scurry off. As you make your way on the familiar path to the ghoul den, your hands shake by your sides. What did Papa know? What did Marguerite know, always reminding you to have faith and patience and guiding you with a gentle hand? When you enter the corridor you force yourself to take a series of deep breaths. Swallowing hard, and guided as if by an invisible hand, your feet take you down the wide corridor, all the way to the door at the end. Your pulse thunders in your ears and after a beat, you raise your fist and knock twice before placing your hand on the knob and turning slowly.

What meets your gaze after the door creaks open instantly brings tears to your eyes.

They’re there - all ten of them - standing in various spots in the large room staring at you. When you choke out a pathetic sob, Swiss is by your side in an instant.

“Hey, babygirl,” he says quietly, hand rubbing between your shoulder blades. “Do you like it?”

When you look up at him quizzically, he gestures to the room. You hadn’t even noticed the setting for all the ghouls you adored so dearly. A bed - a ridiculously enormous bed - is pushed against the far wall. Surrounding the large piece of furniture is a collection of thick cushions and pillows of varying sizes, blankets draped here and there. A dresser stands by the opposite wall and a doorway leads to a darkened room you assumed to be the bathroom. Eyebrows drawn in confusion, you look around at them.

“I…I don’t get it.”

“It’s yours,” Cirrus says, stepping forward and taking Swiss’ place at your side. “It’s what we’ve been doing all this time. We can’t bring a mate into the den and not make them a nest.”

She says it as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world but your jaw falls slack and you hear Aether let out a soft laugh.

“Mate?” your voice is comically high pitched as your eyes dart from Mountain to Sunshine to Aurora, perched on the end of the bed.

“If you’ll have us,” Cumulus supplies quickly, “we’re not going to assume but…”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You can’t suppress the hurt in your voice and all at once they jump up and crowd around you.

“Love, like Cirrus said, we couldn’t tell you until we made a proper place for you,” Rain says softly, soothingly, “that’s how it’s supposed to be. The pack has to provide for you.”

“We’re sorry we didn’t say anything, though,” Phantom supplies, wringing his hands, “it…it wasn’t right to make you hurt like that. I told the others, but–”

“--But it was better than making you feel like you’ve been strung along. We had to make our intentions perfectly clear by doing this,” Mountain says calmly, gesturing around the room.

“I thought…I thought you didn’t want me anymore. That you didn’t care about me. That you never cared about me. I–” your words break off in a loud sob that has you doubling over on yourself and the ghouls looking anxiously around the room at one another.

“Honey, I’m sorry. We’re so sorry,” Cumulus says as she steps forward to embrace you, “human emotions can be…difficult for us to understand. We’ve never done this before, you know that? We’ve been telling you for so long that you’re special, that you’re perfect. If we didn’t want you we never, ever would have made this for you. You’re the one. You’re the only one for us.”

When you pull back from Cumulus’ arms, uselessly wiping your tears from her shoulder, she cups your face in her palms.

“We adore you. All of us.” The others nod emphatically, all reaching out to touch you in some way. It doesn’t feel real to you, but you drink it in all the same. Gently, you let go of your anger, of your doubt, and allow yourself to be filled with the perfect, aching love that surrounds you in this room.

“Thank you,” you whisper, squeezing Swiss’ hand in your left and Aurora’s in your right. “This is…wow. All for me, huh?”

“All for you,” Sunshine confirms, brushing your hair away from your face. “Does that mean you accept our offer?”

You let them squirm, just a little bit by remaining silent for a few seconds. When the “yes” leaves your lips, the room erupts triumphantly and suddenly your face is being smothered in kisses. When Swiss picks you up bridal style and carries you to the bed, you can’t help but laugh, thinking of your first time. The ensuing days of celebration are filled with as much love as lust, your naked form barely allowed to ever leave the bed and always surrounded by the sounds of pleasure. You’re thoroughly exhausted by the end of the third day, abbey duties completely forgotten and body limp in the soft sheets. Gently, so as not to wake your pack, you raise yourself onto your elbows and look around the room. On your right on the bed is Dewdrop, snoring softly, while Cumulus curls up behind you. Phantom has found a spot at the bottom of the bed and Swiss and Aurora are intertwined on a cushion across the room. Cirrus, Sunshine, and Rain sleep soundly in a pile next to them while Aether lies curled into Mountain. You smile as you regard the forms of your lovers - all ten of them, you want to laugh - and lower yourself back down into the pillow. Cumulus stirs and murmurs something into your hair, and you reach a soothing hand back behind you to scratch gently at her scalp. Dew’s eyes open briefly, glowing in the dim light of the room and he gives you a sleepy smile. Leaning over, you place a soft kiss on his forehead and run your thumb along his cheekbone.

And for once in your life, here at the abbey or otherwise, you are at peace, you are held, and you are loved.

~~~

a/n: if you're wondering what happened to sister tamsin well. ghouls get hungry, don't they?

[stealingyourbones]

GL Jazz Anger Management

Ok this shit is like half made but I know that I Will Not finish this so fuck it we ball.

Heavily influenced (and encouraged) by @gilbirda

Jazz is an Arkham Asylum Psychologist who’s been on staff for roughly three years at this point. Jason has been assigned to work undercover as a Arkham Security Guard to try to scope out and stop the next breakout that Batman has heard whispers about. 

Jazz and Jason have very similar shifts. Jason is instantly pinned as someone who could handle their stronger patients. This makes him almost always automatically assigned with helping transport the more physically menacing asylum patients to their therapy sessions. Jason and Jazz had similar shifts so Jazz frequently saw Jason in the staff break room or assigned to follow her patient into her office to make sure they didn’t try to attack any other patients or staff. (Jazz could handle herself no problem, but protocol is protocol.)

Sure enough, the rumors for the breakout were true. Jason overheard their plans but just a tad too late. The breakout was happening tonight and he was severely underprepared for handling something this big with this short of a deadline. Damn it. Jason was just getting to know Jazz really well. He asked her on a date set for next week but he might be too preoccupied trying to wrangle these villains to show up. 

Low and behold: There is a breakout. Head of the breakout being Scarface (The Ventriloquist) and Two-Face. (Jason doesn’t know which shift fucked up and managed to let an entire ass veltriloquist doll get a green light past security but he damn well knew it wasn’t his.) Dozens upon dozens of patients were out of their cells and stormed the building as alarms and lights blared at nearly deafening levels. 

Suddenly, a deafening crash shakes the building. Chunks of the ceiling rain down onto the angry mob of Arkham patients as something small and green flies through the wall of the building and finally rests on Jazz’s hand. Jason is far too far away to do anything to help. In his Red Hood uniform, he’s busy subduing the angry mob one criminally insane patient at a time. The design was reminiscent of the Green Lantern rings but a strange skull shaped emblem on the top of the skull made him think otherwise. 

Jazz knew that this was the ring of rage. It was calling to her. She somehow just knew that Danny had rejected the ring and that she was the nearest liminal on earth with the strongest will to be an acceptable wielder of the ring. Jazz looks at the angry mob and back at the ring. Sure, she could take on a few dozen goons and patients before getting overwhelmed, but with the ring she could do something about this. Protect the people she cared for, fight for what’s right. 

Jazz puts on the ring. 

-Draw Jazz GL outfit but inspired by the Ring of Rage. 

-Jazz closes her eyes as she can feel knowledge of how to control the ring suddenly flood her brain. A strange suit of green light envelops her body that glows a bright toxic green. Bright green fenton blasters, hammers, force field barriers, and mixed martial arts to subdue the rowdy patients. Balls of green light encase the unconscious patients and float them back into their rooms, keeping them out of the fight. Jazz is a force of nature, plowing a clean line of goons and criminally insane individuals down to get to Two Face and The Ventriloquist. 

Jason blinks heavily because Jazz is now holding a strange bazooka that seems to be cobbled together out of household items, duct tape, and pure willpower because there is no way that thing should be functional. 

The mortar doesn’t shoot Two-Face but instead turns instantly into a net the second it makes contact with his body. 

-Jazz then gets to work fixing up her workplace. Using her constructs to repair and fix the broken bits of ceiling and hallway until they looked like they were never broken in the first place. 

-Jason, staring at the now fully fixed Asylum with every patient locked in their appropriate room, is still reeling from what just happened. He no longer has to worry about the threat of his date being put off, but now he has another issue. 

-Jason tells Jazz that he’s gonna need to bring her to the watchtower for questioning and to meet the other GL’s. 

-They go to the watchtower and The GL’s that Jason tells to meet them there instantly clock that Jazz isn’t a normal Green Lantern. 

-the GL’s are kinda shocked because they haven’t seen a Ghost Sector GL before. They thought they were just a rumor. Jokes on them, they’re real. It’s a subset of Green Lanterns that patrol various sectors of the Ghost Zone like the regular Green Lanterns patrol sectors of the universe. 

- Their chest emblem is more like that ghost skull on the ring of rage. Her hair is more flamelike and etherial and she looks physically more unreal. Jason is shocked that the one girl he thought he might have something going for him got superpowers. Just his luck. He’s not complaining tho, he’s happy that Jazz can fully protect and defend herself and doesn’t have to worry about her. (He still very much so worries but not as much)

- Jazz and Jason have a sorta long distance/short distance relationship. Jazz spends her time patrolling the GZ but whenever she’s needed on earth, she always takes time to visit Jason. They are very very sweet with each other and are a fuckin literal power duo. You mess with their S.O.? Next second be prepared to be staring down the barrel of either a corporeal or incorporeal looking gun. Either one will hurt like hell. 

-fin-

[hairstevington]

flowers and ink (part 3)

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Eddie makes up an excuse to get closer to Steve, and it works...eventually! Part one, part two

Word count: 2.5K

Warnings: Tattoo Artist!Eddie/Florist!Steve, platonic soulmates Robin and Steve, Eddie thinks they're dating, miscommunication trope but it's resolved by the end, THEY ARE IDIOTS YOUR HONOR, Steve is a sweetheart, the fluffiest of fluff

A/N: This was originally supposed to be the "ending," but I might end up continuing it if people are interested in seeing where it goes - either here or on Ao3! Otherwise, I do have more Steddie content coming soon no matter what. At this point I'm in too deep to quit. Thanks all!

Eddie scanned the room in search of any sort of inspiration. 

“Sure, what’s up?” Steve asked, nonchalant. 

Flowers. There were just flowers everywhere. That’s all Eddie had to go on. Okay, flowers it is.

“So, this woman came by the other day and she wants this whole sleeve of flowers, right? But, like, I don’t do flowers very often. So I’m gonna practice drawing flowers a lot these next few weeks while I’m nailing down the design, and I guess I, uhhhh, was thinking maybe I could look around here and take some notes or something?”

Lies. All of it. LIES. 

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Steve said. “You can hang around here as long as you want. Or, until we close, anyway.”

“Which is in fifteen minutes,” Robin reminded her coworker. 

“Oh. Shit, yeah,” Steve chuckled. “You can hang around for fifteen minutes, then.” Eddie smiled and nodded. 

“I’ll take it.”

Then, of course, Eddie had to walk around and examine the flowers as if he actually gave a shit about them, which he didn’t. He was far more interested in the man behind the counter, but whatever. This would do. 

He had fifteen minutes to figure out what he was going to do at closing time. Maybe, if he played his cards right, he could get an invite to hang out with them after. Although, did he really want to be a third wheel? Was all of this just pathetic?

Probably. 

“Hold on, your hair is still a little messed up,” Steve said to Robin. They both giggled softly, and Eddie rolled his eyes. 

Definitely pathetic. Eddie drifted farther into the back so he couldn’t hear them whispering to each other anymore. 

Flowers were nice. Eddie didn’t have anything against them, he just wasn’t drawn to them like a lot of people seemed to be. They were a bit too pretty for his taste. Too delicate. He took a couple pictures (to really sell his bullshit cover story), and before he knew it, it was closing time. 

Eddie walked back up to the front to join Steve and Robin, ready to say the line he’d been preparing the last fourteen and a half minutes. Is it cool if I drop by tomorrow to keep looking around?

Steve spoke before Eddie could ask his question, stunning him momentarily. 

“Hey, so I was thinking if any more questions come up, you could just text me. You know, if you want.”

-

“Hold on, your hair is still a little messed up.”

“Oh my god, fix it!”

“I’m trying! Stay still!” 

Steve brushed through Robin’s hair with his fingers, smoothing down the strands that were sticking out. He caught her looking at him, then glancing in Eddie’s direction, then back at him. 

“Whatever you’re about to say, don’t,” Steve warned. 

“He came here for you,” she whispered to Steve. “With lotion!”

“We were just talking about it at the shop earlier,” Steve dismissed. “He probably is just making fun of me for using the wrong kind.”

“Don’t be an idiot,” Robin muttered. “He likes you.”

“Shh!” Steve’s eyes went wide. Eddie wasn’t that far away, even though they were speaking quietly. Suddenly, Steve remembered what he’d learned about Eddie, and that he hadn’t told Robin yet. “Okay, look. Maybe you’re right.”

“I am,” she insisted.

“Fine,” Steve conceded. “So, he told me that -” Steve stopped himself and looked around the room to double check that Eddie was as far from them as possible. He went the charade route anyway. 

Steve looked at her intensely until she was completely focused. He pointed vaguely in the direction of where Eddie went, and then used the same hand to flip his wrist downwards with an emphatic nod. Robin’s eyes went wide. 

“Shut up,” she said. “Confirmed?”

“Out, proud, and mentoring the youth,” Steve replied. “Oh, and Will Byers was there.”

“What?!” 

“Shh!” 

Robin collected herself again so she could resume whispering. 

“You need to ask him out.” Her voice was barely audible now. 

“I don’t know how.”

“You’ve done it a bazillion times, Dingus,” she reminded him. “What makes this any different?”

“I don’t know!” Steve admitted with a shrug. “He’s so much cooler and smarter than me, and it’s, like, really intimidating.”

“Steve, we have to work on your self confidence,” Robin sighed. 

“You tease me all the goddamn time, Buckley.”

“I’m allowed,” she said. “You’re not.” Steve rolled his eyes but accepted the feedback. 

“I’ll do it, okay?”

He knew he needed to sound casual about it, in case he was reading it wrong. Just because Eddie was gay didn’t mean he was interested. But! If they talked more, Steve could flirt a little and then know for sure. 

So, when Eddie came back at 5pm, Steve took the leap. 

“Hey, so I was thinking if any more questions come up, you could just text me.” Steve watched Eddie freeze, and Steve had no idea what to do with that. He backtracked immediately. “You know, if you want.”

“Yeah, sure,” Eddie responded after a few moments. Steve wasn’t sure how to read Eddie’s hesitation.

“Cool,” Steve responded. He could practically feel Robin’s judgment from a few feet away, even without looking at her. He snapped himself out of his trance and grabbed a pen and one of the Flowers for All business cards, then flipped it over on the counter to the blank side. 

“You could just -” Eddie said, holding his phone up. “Use this, you know.”

“Oh, duh,” Steve said, mentally kicking himself. He took Eddie’s phone and put his number in, then handed it back. “There you go.”

“Thanks,” Eddie responded. Steve figured if Eddie wasn’t interested, he just wouldn’t reach out. No harm done. “Have a good rest of your night, guys.”

“We will,” Robin answered, knowing that Steve was obviously incapable of acting normal. “Stop by any time, okay?”

“Okay, thanks,” Eddie repeated. He did a small wave and then left the store with nothing but the residual jingle from the bell above the door. 

Steve immediately slunk to the floor and sat against the wall. 

“Not one word,” he said. 

“That was painful.”

“That was three words.”

“You didn’t ask him out!”

“Yeah, well I’m getting there! I got his number, didn’t I?”

“Barely!” she replied with a laugh. “But he’s totally into you. I can tell.”

“Oh yeah? How?”

“Because he came here with lotion and then stuck around to look at flowers when the internet exists,” Robin explained. 

Huh. She has a point.

“Fair enough,” Steve sighed. “I guess now we just wait and see if you’re right.”

-

Eddie was obviously going to text Steve, but he had no idea what to say. He really dug himself into a hole with the flower research thing. 

Also, what the fuck was that about? What flower-related questions could Eddie possibly have? Why would Eddie text Steve for flower advice when the internet exists? What does flower advice even mean? He typed out his first draft -

Hi, it’s Eddie. Thanks for helping me out :) 

Ok, boring. He tried again. 

Hi, it’s Eddie. Texting so you have my number too

Could be better. 

What’s your favorite flower?

Oh god! No! Delete! Delete!

This was hopeless.

-

“He hasn’t texted yet,” Steve whined.

“It’s only been three hours,” Robin replied. 

They were doing their post-shift hang out, like usual. They had some stupid reality TV show on in the background that both of them hated but for some reason loved watching together. 

“It’s felt like twelve,” Steve groaned, throwing his head back against the couch. 

“It’s felt like a hundred for me, with you constantly complaining about it,” Robin responded, shoving him lightly. 

“Hey, this was your doing, alright?” Steve shot back, smirking. “He’s not interested, and that’s okay.” He was trying to convince himself more than anything. 

“Patience, grasshopper,” Robin assured him. “Don’t lose hope yet.”

Steve’s phone buzzed on the table. They both lunged for it, desperately checking the notification. 

A text from an unknown number. 

Am I allowed to ask you questions that aren’t about flowers?

“Robin, I love you.”

-

Sure, what do you wanna know? 🙂

Okay, now we’re getting somewhere. Eddie sat down and pondered what question he should ask first. 

Why frog and toad?

Eddie was far more comfortable talking about tattoos. Steve responded -

Just seemed right, I guess.

Ugh, okay. Eddie forgot he sucked at texting. 

Do you regret it?

He waited a minute or two until his phone lit up again. 

No, not at all. We love it. 

Eddie sighed. He didn’t know what to say next. 

I’m not good at the text thing

Steve’s response showed up moments later. 

Guess you’ll have to come visit us again then ;) 

Okay, well that works.

-

Eddie showed up the next day on one of his breaks, pretended to look at some more flowers as if they’d changed from the day before, and then struck up a conversation with Steve about tattoos. Then, he dropped by on another break a few days later, skipping the flower part completely and jumping straight into talking about music. 

“So, how’s the flower design going?” Steve asked after their discussion died down. 

“It’s good,” Eddie said. “I’m just not really a flowers guy, is all.” Steve gasped and pretended to be shocked. 

“You? Not into flowers??” Eddie chuckled. “I didn’t think I was either, but I actually love it here. Maybe if you keep coming by you’ll change your tune.”

“Yeahhhh, I’m not so sure about that,” Eddie replied. 

“Oh, I am,” Steve challenged playfully. “There’s a flower for everyone - that’s literally why this place is called Flowers for All.”

“Oh god,” Eddie teased. “This isn’t gonna become a thing where you try to get me to like flowers, is it?” Steve smirked and bent down so his forearms rested on the counter. 

“Hey, man. You got me into tattoos, I’m just returning the favor.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. Yeah, it was cute, but he knew that it was a doomed mission. 

Steve tried anyway. Each day, when Eddie showed up for work, a new flower was left at the front door. 

First, it was a daisy. 

Steve: Well?

Eddie: It's pretty. I'm not a huge fan of yellow tho

Steve: Noted

On day two, a carnation.

Eddie: are you trying to take me to prom?

Steve: maybe (just kidding we missed it)

Eddie: lmao

Then, there was a succulent. 

Eddie: I actually really like this one

Steve: Success!

Eddie thought that would be the end of it. But then, on the fourth day, a gardenia was at the door. 

Eddie: more???

Steve: are you a flower guy yet?

Eddie: No, but I’m running out of room on my desk

Steve: Better get another desk then

At this point, Eddie thought for sure Steve was messing with him. Maybe that’s all this ever was. Robin kept saying over and over how bored they were at work, and Eddie was their current source of entertainment. 

He gave the flowers to Bob - except the succulent, for obvious reasons. Eddie named him Sonic.

On day 5, Eddie found a red rose dipped in black ink on his desk. Bob had apparently already let Steve in to set it up. Eddie would have groaned in frustration, except the stupid thing was actually extremely badass. Like, he thought it was so cool he was sad it was going to wilt eventually.

Fuck. This had to stop. 

Eddie marched into Flowers for All, rose in hand, ready to tell Steve that he didn’t just want to be some project for the happy couple. 

“Heyyy, look who’s here!” Steve greeted him as he walked in. Steve’s face fell when he noticed Eddie holding the rose. “Uh-oh, you hated this one so much you’re returning it? I really thought -”

“I didn’t hate it, I love it. It's - I mean, it's perfect.”

“Okay,” Steve said, hopping off the counter. “So, why do you look angry at me?”

“Are you guys making fun of me or something?” Eddie asked. No time for small talk. No beating around the bush. They’d been tip-toeing around this for over a week now. 

“What?” Steve asked, genuinely shocked. “Dude, no. I - shit, okay. No, I’m not making fun of you, I’m trying to flirt with you. Guess I’ve lost my touch.” Steve put a hand to the back of his neck and grimaced nervously. 

“Flirt with me?” Now Eddie was the shocked one. “So, you’re not dating Robin?”

Steve burst out laughing.

“Robin? My platonic lesbian best friend Robin?”

Eddie’s head was spinning. 

“Platonic?” he echoed. “After the way you two tumbled out of the back room all flustered and shit the first time I came in?”

“That’s absolutely not what you think it was,” Steve said. 

“Then what was it?”

“It was - okay, well first of all, I was flustered because you came in. And Robin and I were back there because her hair somehow got tangled in a watering can and she needed my help.”

It sounded like a lie, but it would have been the most random lie ever created.

“Jesus, how did that even happen?” Eddie wondered, amused.

“Robin has zero coordination,” Steve responded. “It’s part of her charm.” Eddie nodded, processing all of this.

“Okay, so you’re not dating Robin,” he said.

“No.”

“And you’ve been flirting with me.”

“Yes.”

“Completely genuinely, like not as a joke?” Steve chuckled.

“Eddie, I tipped you like a full day's worth of pay for our tattoo,” he reminded him. “If I was joking, I’d have to be stupidly committed to the bit.”

Okay, well that was…fair.

“Oh,” Eddie replied. Wow. I really am an idiot.

“Yeah,” Steve said. There was a moment where they both just kinda stared at each other, and then Eddie broke the silence.

“You do realize I’ve been flirting with you too, right?” he asked. Steve just stared at him blankly. “Okay, from the way you’re looking at me I’m gonna go with no on that one.”

“I mean, I was hoping you were-”

“I am.”

“Great.”

“Cool.”

“So, we should go out then.”

“Yeah, that seems like a logical next step.”

They smiled at each other, basking in the absurdity, and then suddenly a piercing voice came from Steve’s phone on the counter.

“FINALLY.”

“Wait, is that Robin?” Eddie asked, pointing at the phone.

“Oh, yeah,” Steve responded. “I was talking to her when you came in.”

Eddie shook his head and laughed.

Well, at least they were both idiots.

(part 4)

____________________

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[notthatnoodle]

Tombstone Redemption

~Van Der Linde Gang meets the Cowboys~

”Gentlemen! May I simply ask you to listen to my, proposal.”

”Hear that, boys? We’re going to have some fun tonight, shall we!”

~~~~~~~~~~

And my dumb talk about cowboys, mental health, and me being so unsure of my drawing skills. Buckle up cowboy, it's going to be a long one.

~~~~~~~~~~

Do you know that feeling, when you have an idea. And that idea is something that scares you? Because I do, too clearly if one may say.

I wanted to do something. Draw something that I would be proud of. But how to do that when you just hate everything you do, when it feel overwhelming to do.

Well, just trying to do it. Just trying to enjoy the journey and the things I'm doing while on it.

It was scary to start, but I still had a plan for it, you know.

Something big, scary.

"This is never going to look good. It's going to be terrible."

"It's going to take so long, it's going to look stupid."

"I already hate it."

That's what I thought at the time, while doing the sketch.

And you know what...

I did. But after days of just doing the lines again and again, it finally got better. After DAYS. For me it might take weeks before I can continue working on something which looks bad in my eyes.

I hated to do the line art first, I hated to do it, so much that I almost gave up because it already, alone, felt overwhelming. I didn't like it one bit. The characters didn't look like themselves, and I wasn't happy. No one has any idea how long it took to do it.

BUT i finally did it. I got flat colors done. And from there, I could finally move to the next part. And I was so happy how it turned out, it gave me hope, feeling of success.

"I can do it."

"I can do the next part too."

I was in halfway now, the RDR2 side was ready, except the lighting and the shadows of course but anyway. To get myself to do the rest, I asked myself...

Why I do this again?

And the answer to that was surprisingly simple.

I do this because even it feels so overwhelming at times, I love to do it. I love to see what I'm capable of. I love to draw, sketch, do things like that.

Because it helps my mental health.

Because I need to get my inspiration out to a paper.

Because I love westerns

Because RDR2 became my comfort game.

Because Tombstone became my comfort movie.

Because I have no money to travel to the other side of the world to a meetings or something. I have to create my own "meetings", in a way of an art.

Because both, RDR and Tombstone, have helped me in the past year, in the ways I never imagined would be possible.

Who would've known long time ago that I wouldn't need any meds in couple of years because some sad, rough, cold, unstable cowboy men, huh?

I've heard so many times that people have called comfort characters "cringe" or "weird."

And that "you should get real help."

Well, I did. I had that real help, but beside the medication that helped, I just couldn't find anything to talk about with the professionals.

I never personally have liked talking (but it's still good, try it) and I've always used art and writing to get all my feelings out. Tbh, it haven't helped the situation that I'm terrible at recognizing my own feelings.

And, well.

If anyone would've said back in 2020 that "In couple years your mental health is going to get better because of Arthur Morgan and Johnny Ringo" I would've been so confused.

"Who??? Where??? When???"

The two most mentally stable men in the universe, right?

But you see, here we are. Still trying to decide do I hate my art or not. But even still, it's finally on place where I dreamed it would be when I was 14 years old and could only draw poor dogs and cats.

I may not feel like it, but I try to remind myself many times in a day. That this is what I wanted, this is what I worked for.

The progress has been slow, but it's still showing up. But I want to get better, I want to draw even more better, to get more realistic or something. I'm not even sure myself. Can you believe it? 10 years of drawing and I'm still not sure what I want my style really to be, other than somewhat realistic.

The progress is slow, but it's here. The mental health and drawing skills are both growing even I may not admit it to myself. And I still want to get better.

There is going to be bad times, there is always going to be bad times, those are never going to disappear. But what also is not going to disappear, is my passion to my art. To the characters, to the world they live in.

It's surely going to stay a big part of me, even it may fade in some point. But it is still there, a part which shows what helped me get back up.

As a reminder to myself how I got better. And that healing journey isn't in the end. Is only just begun.

It's a journey I'm afraid of, excited, curious, terrified...

But it's going to be amazing, hard, I'm going to hate and love every second of it.

And that's good. It means I've finally managed to dig up my closed emotions.

I may be able to know what I feel for the first time in years. I might be able to feel something that has been hidden away since forever.

And all that just because of some Cowboy Depression Simulator and the movie with the Cowboys and tuberculosis.

Seriously, they both end almost same way and managed to broke my fucking heart while doing it. And still they are probably the best things that have ever happened to me.

What I learned, what I thought while doing this art and thinking it's meaning... Only person you can let down in this planet is yourself, and only person who really knows everything you've done to get back up, is yourself. So, give a hug to you, give a tap to you, give a hamburger to you or something.

The good begins before the bad things end.

So go kick this day to the balls or something, somewhere where the sun doesn't shine, get it all back to yourself.

Carpe diem and have some FAITH to yourself...

Because you really don't know how good the light of tomorrow morning could feel.

Thank you for coming to my TED talk. I believe in y'all.

~~~~~~~~~~~

-Setri.

[annihilatius]

Concept art for the spliced version of Reed Wahl (1959ish-1968 but for the sake of simplicity let's say this is him in 1968) in my Minerva's Den rewrite

Ok guys. Guys. I promise the next time I make fanart for a Minerva's Den character it won't be this fucking freak but I was suddenly hit with a wave of inspiration to make this a little bit over a week ago and even though I expected it to not work out, it actually did, so I just kept going. I wanted to add more to his design but because this is just concept art I decided to leave it like this, if I wanna improve it I'll try but I can't promise that will ever happen. It isn't perfect but I think it's an improvement over his design in canon that probably had zero thought behind it (what the fuck is that stupid ass thing on his face and what purpose does it even serve.. I mean it makes him memorable in some way I guess)

A version with blood I did just for fun (it's not graphic at all though) and me discussing the design more in detail under the cut

So now onto the design itself. Sorry to kill everyone's boners but I don't wanna go into detail *why* he even looks like this at all because my reasonings for it may change, but know that his canonical motivation of wanting to solve his "ultimate equation" (fucking loser ass nerd) or whatever is (probably) not going to stay the same, I might take some concepts from it but his overall thing is different. My main criticism for it is how pointless it is, like, yeah it's interesting because it's something that can never actually happen, but also why should I care because I know nothing will ever come of it even if *he* thinks it will. It's so broad, there's not a specific thing he's trying to figure out, it's just "everything". But anyway. His new motivation ties into his personality; after ADAM he didn't become a completely different person like you'd expect as well as the game kind of portrays, but more like because of the constant paranoia, anxiety, depression, sleep deprivation (can ADAM cause you to contract insomnia?) and going significant amounts of time without actually eating, it ramped his flaws and insecurities up to 100 and suppressed everything once good about him. He saw his work as an extension of himself and the only thing that gave him purpose, but he soon realizes that The Thinker is completed; it's practically his life's work that he'll never be able to top, so, internal conflict about his existence arises (which is made so much worse by the fact that he doesn't have anyone that cares about him at this point).

I got sidetracked, just had to clarify that before continuing, onto the actual design

I didn't really use any specific reference for his bionic arm in general (I was inspired for the idea of it from some pictures but what I came up with looks nothing like them), but I was inspired by these images for the weapon on it;

I wanted to emphasize it being able to "retract" back into the machinery somehow but it didn't work out, so it's just stationary but doesn't always bend with the motion of the arm so it doesn't get in the way. I imagine it's only attached to the part comes out from, with no support beams so it can be moved around freely. I decided to go with the weapon of choice being a large blade, the gun idea was definitely cool but I didn't know how to draw it, as well as the "retracting" issue from before still applying. If he wanted to use a gun he can just be like the rest of us and hold it. Also not about the weapon, but I wanted to point out that the blue tubes around his hands are full of ADAM, I had an idea that it could be instantly dispensed into the wearers bloodstream by being injected into their skin (which is gross but that's the point), but I didn't have any idea for how this would be activated. Probably by a switch somewhere but I never did anything with it, so they're just there for the looks I guess? I could revision this somehow

The idea for the things on his legs which are definitely the star of the show (I call them "stilts") came to me from this image:

Mostly the first and third one but especially the third one. I'm not completely satisfied with how I drew them but it's fine and it gets the message across. It prioritizes speed and height, being thin but durable to cross long distances much faster than the average person (I don't know the actual anatomy of how that would work but Bioshock takes place in a city underwater where injecting heroin gives you superpowers who cares if I make a couple unrealistic things in my stupid fanfic that will never be canon anyway). Reed Wahl is 5'10 normally and around 6'10ish with them on which helps give him the edge with fighting splicers when it happens, but I'm terrible at determining the sizes of things without any reference so it very could well be more than that (which it probably is). For reference Subject Sigma is around 7 feet tall

Things I wanted to add but didn't, something like this:

These would either go around his waist or thigh, because both his canon and my redesign have an emphasis on ropes and whatever this style of clothing is called (something ending in -punk but idk) I thought it'd be a good fit. I had an idea that the bag would contain Eve hypo or some other dumb nerdy shit. I didn't consider any way for him to immediately get ADAM in his design here cuz he doesn't have any kind of pockets lol, he's fine tho 🙏🏻 (He needs to be given the lethal injection)

And ideas I had but scrapped, something like this:

Feel like it's pretty obvious why I didn't do this, one because I had no idea what I'd draw, two because machine-wise I thought the design was busy enough and you didn't need to have two centers of attention. It is cool though, I could revision this to something smaller

I also did consider giving him some kind of different headwear, but I realized I could never beat the original cunty glasses I gave him. I cannot top that I'm afraid. And also because the only other ideas I had I just wasn't that big a fan of;

These are cute but I didn't like how the right eye was completely covered. Besides that nothing struck me that much, I didn't use whatever he's wearing on his face in canon because once again I didn't like how one of the eyes were covered, and two because that doesn't account for the other eye where in my redesign he wears glasses. I would rather he not be essentially half blind. I could have done better but it's decent

[worksby-d]

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮

An Everyone Thinks It Oneshot

Pairing: Chris Evans x fem!Reader

Summary: Chris takes you on a special date to give you a “just because” gift. Inspired by a PRECIOUS TikTok an anon shared with me yesterday.

Warnings: Stomach ache-inducing fluff.

Word count: ~800

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ••• ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ••• ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

“Seriously, did I forget an anniversary or something?”

All evening you've been racking your brain as to why Chris would have planned such a nice date night. Your dates are always nice, but not always dress up and make reservations at a fancy restaurant kind of nice.

“It hasn't been a year yet, I know that. So…”

“No,” he laughs, reaching his arm across the table to take your hand in his. As much as he's getting a kick out of your slight panic, he doesn't want you actually worried. “I can't just take you out?”

You pretend to consider it, but look back at him with a straight face. “No.”

Rolling his eyes, he takes his hand away from you, just so he can grab something he's been hiding under his jacket sitting on the seat next to him.

“Okay, okay,” he gives in. “I got something for you.”

“Chris,” you groan. It’s not uncommon for you to have to remind him you don't need anything. Especially when there's no occasion.

“And,” he speaks up to quiet your protests. “I really did just want to take you on a nice date. I feel like life’s been a little crazy the past couple weeks.”

He's right. But it's nothing you'd complain about. It's just the norm for you guys. You no matter and moved in with him, had a few good weeks, and then had to spend the last couple getting used to his place without him there while he was away for work. But you're well aware that's how it is sometimes.

Surrendering, you take the gift bag from him so you can open it. The bright blue box tells you it's jewelry – Tiffany, some of your favorite.

Untying the neat bow and slipping the top off the box, you're met with a delicate silver necklace with a pearl pendant strung on it.

“Wow.” You marvel at the way it shines under the light as you run your thumb along the chain. “This is really beautiful. But you don't have to make any sort of gesture to make up for working or being a little busy…”

“Just–” He laughs a little, holding his hand up to stop you. “There might be something else in there.”

You're confused. “What are you talking about?”

“In the box. Under the…”

His voice trails off as you lift some tissue paper and find another necklace underneath. Holding it up, you recognize the design of the pendant immediately.

“Chris.” His name comes out as a whisper as you pout, looking closer at it – a design you had doodled when you were younger now come to life.

It’s the outline of a heart, lined with diamonds. Inside the heart is a smaller one, the color of your son’s birthstone, with room for other stones to be added if you have more kids one day – a touch you had added to your idea as a hopeless romantic teenager.

“Do you like it?”

You can't help but let out a laugh. But looking across the table at him, it's a genuine question.

“I can't believe you remembered this.”

“How could I not? I remember you drawing it all the time when we were kids.”

Looking around, you sniffle and wipe away a few tears, letting out a deep breath to compose yourself. “This is so embarrassing.”

“No it's not,” he chuckles, getting out of his seat and moving to your side of the table to sit in your booth with you so he can help you put it on right away. “When you were moving in, I found some notebooks of yours and knew I had to get this made for you when I saw those drawings again.”

“I really like it.”

“Good,” he smiles, wiping away a stray tear for you. “I didn't want to wait to give it to you, so that's the occasion, okay? Happy now?”

He nudges your shoulder with his own to get you to laugh with him.

“Of course,” you nod, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you. I don't deserve you.”

“Hey, none of that.” He knows it's just a habit for you to say those things, but he reminds you every chance he gets that it's not true. “I feel guilty about not being around all the time, you know. I kind of leave you here alone with everything.”

All while he’s saying it, you're waiting to interrupt him and tell him you don't see it that way. But he doesn't let you.

“But you're the best mom. The best girlfriend. Still my best friend for some reason,” he jokes. “You deserve everything.”

✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ••• ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ••• ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿

Tag list: @chris-butt @patzammit @denisemarieangelina @thummbelina @pppsssyyyccchhhiiiccc @princess-evans-addict @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @la-cey @turtoix @katiew1973 @harrysthiccthighss @tvckerlance @bluemusickid @rocketrhap3000 @mrspeacem1nusone @murdcox @geminievans1 @doozywoozy @americasass91 @dwights-new-plague @wwwmarissa92 @redhairedfeistynerd @whxre4cevans @aubreeskailynn @white-wolf1940 @melchills-j @xoxabs88xox @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @before-we-get-started @chrissquares @christowhore @ice-dtae @mariestark @justile @rogersdrysdalebarber @dilfbarber @livstilinski @payperhearts @vintagestarlight @gitasor @chaeycunty @miss-ariella @bemysugarbean @t-stark35 @seitmai @reginaphalange2403 @bookwormchick91

[oooocleo]

how did you find the courage/means to do full-time freelance? it’s something i’ve been thinking about for a long time (i take comms in between college work) but i just. don’t know where to begin? i’d really appreciate any advice. thank you!

ill start this off w a disclaimer that i live in a country thats considered a social security state so i've received rent support from the government ever since moving out when i started uni (bc i dont make that much, prolly below min. wage, meaning my taxes are also relatively low), as well as student loans that aren't so horrible here as there are in the US for example - i'm sure if i had to get a job next to my studies i wouldn't have had nearly as much time/energy for establishing myself as a freelance illustrator over the yrs...

for me my uni yrs were when i really started doing more private commission work, because i had a lot of free time outside of exam periods, and i was p motivated to do that bc i was studying history which u know.. doesnt rly lead u down a secure career path lmfao... as for courage i would say it might be more fear of the alternative? i have depressive tendencies sometimes and i think i would be very unhappy having to spend 40 hours of my life every week in a job that wud likely feel unfulfilling compared to making art for ppl... so i took those student loans and drew and drew and drew until it became Actually Feasible to live off of my labour

i would say... Really try to minimize ur expenses if ur wanting to get into freelance illustration, bc any amount of time u need to spend on say a diff 'regular' job uve got to make ends meet will make things harder - this might seem like kind of scary advice but moving somewhere where the rent is cheap is an option u shouldnt overlook (i lived in social housing before moving to a rural area), bc kind of all u need rn is a freaking internet connection to find folks thatll hire u fdjgdfg - also in the same vein moving in with friends and sharing costs🤔

besides that, all i can suggest is find things that inspire you, draw as much as u can manage and post a lot so that ppl can discover u !

[raccoonfallsharder]

idk if u remember string cheese anon but hi, it's me

honestly I might just send asks occasionally when I do mundane things that I think rocket would have interesting reactions to because I'm bored :P

I think he'd find coloring books really weird at first but then secretly do urs when u aren't looking (and if he's anything like me, he would see one of those "adult" ones that's needlessly complicated with the patterns and despise it for doing too much, but maybe he wants it to be complicated. it's overwhelming for me tho lmao)

ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ STRING CHEESE NONNIE. how could i possibly forget you? please. you inspired some of my most delightful imaginings in the last few weeks and i am grateful for your presence in my asks!

no pressure but if you DO decide to send mundane things you think rocket would have an interest in, i would be eternally delighted

as you know, of course, rocket didn't really get a childhood. even the lovely memories he might've had playing tag with lylla & teefs & floor are more bittersweet than nostalgic. so when you tell him that coloring is relaxing and meditative and that it reminds you of being a little kid, he just blinks at you, and scoffs, and goes about his day.

but he pays attention. he watches you. and you seem to really enjoy it. and rocket doesn't like to miss out, so after you go to bed one night, he flips through your coloring book and opens your box of crayons.

they smell weird. waxy. he likes the feel of the fibrous paper wrappers under his fingers, though.

maybe if he had torn out the pages he'd ended up coloring, you wouldn't have noticed his additions so quickly. or if he'd just been more normal about his coloring. but rocket's style is too meticulous. unique. the colors he chooses don't always make sense - how d'you know? you ain't been around the universe long enough yet to say what's weird an' what's not, he reminds you smugly when you confront him. on the other hand, you realize that you have no idea what the high evolutionary did to his eyes. maybe he still can't see red - or maybe he sees more colors than a terran human like yourself could even dream of. either way, each stroke of color is deliberately applied. in fact, rocket's probably one of those people who adds more detail into the pictures: makes the boring humans look like other lifeforms he met once, or changes their clothes to reflect something he saw one time on a space station out in the lumyra system. i imagine he's actually really good at drawing in a particular, precise sort of way - he maybe hasn't consumed a lot of narrative or conceptual art, but he can glance at a mechanical diagram and flawlessly recreate it years later.

in any case, he's realized you're right. there's something relaxing about it - pulling color out across a soft sheet of paper. changing it. making something of it. it's liberating. it's freeing. he can do whatever he wants. go wherever he wants. he particularly likes it when you bring out older coloring books - the waxy smell has grown on him, combined with the scent of the shabby-soft, faded paper. he likes the simpler images over the more complex ones, too - but mostly because it leaves him more room to create what he wants on the page.

next time mantis stops by, she brings some coloring books that quill had sent along from terra. you and rocket pour over them, exploring each page. after he's done with captain-shit for the night, he takes a break from the new ship he's been building to sit with you and color in the common area.

it ain't like being a kid again, he tells you one night, thoughtfully.

you blink over at him. what?

coloring, he says. it ain't like being a kid again.

you wait, looking over at him while he thoughtfully selects another crayon.

being a kid was bein in a cage, he tells you quietly, turning his eyes back to his page and pressing the waxy tip into the paper. he doesn't look up.

this is like flyin.

[raainberry]

Record and Rewind - III

« Photographic film is a chemically reactive material that records a fixed or still image when the film is exposed to light. »

fem!idol x gn!reader

Fluff/Angst

synopsis - while on one of your many solo adventures, your signature scent unexpectedly draws in the love of your life to you

word count - 1.7K

TW - Addiction (+drug vocabulary?)

A/N - I got excited and pumped this out. This is the third and last part of this series, thank you to everyone who’s read it, hopefully you like it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, I opened a little request thingy, you can send me ideas (nothing sexual nor criminal ofc), who knows maybe I’ll get inspired and whip up something. Also x2, the ending is open to interpretation ;).

Peaceful.

That’s how it felt to sit in the trees, finding support on their branches ever since you were little.

And that’s how it felt kissing a stranger while standing beneath those.

You weren’t quite sure how exactly you ended up there, but questioning it just didn’t feel as right as appreciating and enjoying it the way you did.

Although not the player you would think of at the sight, this wasn’t a first for you; kissing someone you’d just met. It had happened a couple times, and while it was associated with fun memories… Those became so forgettable, fading away with each kiss the woman chose to share with you.

She was skilled, there was no denying that. You liked to think you were doing great following the pace she was setting. However, this wasn’t entirely what made that moment feel so… intimate.

There was something she seemed to be sharing through her kisses. Something other than the obvious lust that had pushed you to connect this way.

She was slow. She took her time discovering you, yet something about it all felt rushed. As if she were trying to feel it all before—

*beep*

A car horn? In the middle of the woods? In this weather?

You tore your lips away from hers, opening your eyes…

Only to be met with the bland, white ceiling above you.

You glared at it, finding yourself wishing it were the powdery snow from your memories, and that you were somehow floating above the ground.

A sigh blew past your nostrils, a slightly agressive one, as you came to terms with reality.

It was a dream.

Quite the tree dream, you thought.

You were used to dreaming of those. In fact, they held a special place in your heart and mind ever since you were a kid. They help you find peace, calming down and replenishing your busy soul.

Both in real life and in your dreams.

Never had you made out with anyone in the latter, though. Nor in any dream for that matter.

This crush was getting out of hand.

It had been weeks.

Weeks since you had parted ways with the woman. Weeks since you’d given her your contact. Weeks since you waited on a call. Even a text would do, you weren’t picky.

Nothing happened.

It was sad when you thought about it. You had started to detach yourself from the memory as you slowly accepted the obvious. You would never get to talk to her again, and it was fine. It was a shame, but it was fine.

It had to be.

It had been a while since you last struggled to move on from something. You usually were a pro at it, always welcoming the next and newest experience that followed with open arms. You loved being surprised, and life happened to be the best at it. You’d found at a young age that letting yourself get carried by the flow of the universe only brought out the most exciting moments out of life.

You rarely looked back. That only happened once in a blue moon, when you let yourself feel a little more than what would be deemed reasonable.

Your inner voice, your heart, they might be the key to true happiness, but you should never forget your brain is there for a reason.

It could help you avoid mourning passing encounters the way you would lifetime ones.

If only it hadn’t been so perfect. Then maybe your brain wouldn’t have gotten carried away too.

—

Closing the front door behind her, the woman started going through the recently developed photos in her hand.

She had just gotten home from developing the couple batches of film she’d used in the last month or so. A last minute errand from a long list as she prepared to leave for tour the next day.

Looking at those allowed her a bit of a break from the hectic schedule she’s been going through. Ever since she had gotten back from vacation, she barely had time to catch her breath. She had to resort to making up that time in the small windows like this one.

She stood in the entrance of her apartment for a while, as if standing there would make time stand still too. It sure felt that way as she reminisced moments with each picture, a soft smile adorning her lips.

Some backstage mirror selfie with a couple of her members back in December. A picture of an empty street she found to be very pretty while on a walk. The blurry aftermath of her friends stealing her camera while on vacation.

That one was just a few weeks ago, but the camera somehow gave the shot a hint of nostalgia already.

She giggled to herself, separating the picture from the rest of the stack in order to hang it on the small but special mural in her living room.

Once she made sure the silly memory was safely kept in her desk drawer for later, her eyes found the next photo in line.

The sight slowly made her smile disappear, her initial excitement being replaced by none other than confusion.

It seemed like apart from making her heart flutter, confusion was the only thing you managed to make her feel.

What was your face doing in her memories. She had been doing so well…

That black mask of yours she remembered too well hid what she knew to be the prettiest smile, while your eyes held a mischievous and satisfied gaze.

So that’s what you were doing, she realized as she thought back to the moment her friends and her had waited for you to work the camera.

Why did you do that…, she whined internally.

She had almost managed to go a day without thinking about you. Every day since you had parted ways with hopeful hearts, she tried drowning out your memory with packed schedules.

Work was a great way to do that. She had never been so glad to get back into it. Until it proved itself to be just as useless as anything she’d ever tried before.

Despite the busy times, she still had time to think about you. About what it felt like talking to you. That‘s one of the few downsides of the mind not being substantial.

It never stops. Even when you need it to. Especially if you need it to.

Your encounter constantly played on loop in the back of hers.

Sure you left her confused most of the time, and your words (or lack there of) only frustrated her in the long run, but… You had also managed to sweep her off her feet in a matter of minutes thanks to those traits.

It was the first time she ever felt so attracted to mystery. Your perfume lured her in, your answers to her wonders about it satisfied her, but only for a moment.

She eventually realised it all had revealed something. A sort of peek behind the curtain that was your silence, and she liked what she had caught a glimpse of.

Now she wanted to see more.

Everything you had told her about the perfume she’d fallen in love with… It made her greedy.

Everytime she caught herself bringing the rose to her nose… The scent drowned out her senses, replacing them with the ones from that night.

It was fading now. Much like the memory was until that afternoon.

Now it felt like she was back to square one.

She looked up, her eyes landing on the paper rose that had been resting on the desk for far too long.

Her feet brought her closer, and she couldn’t help but reach for it. As if her hand were trained to do so every time she laid eyes on it. It kind of was, she admitted silently, and let herself take a hit.

The choice of words might come off strong, but at this point that’s what it felt like.

An addiction.

Because why did she keep coming back to this rose?

Why did she still catch herself thinking about you before burrying your memory deeper than before, in hopes for it to never come back up.

Why did it keep coming back up?

Did she have to throw it away?

She played with the paper in her hand, rolling it around as she studied its structure.

Not a flaw could be percieved in the folds, and she recalled how focused you seemed to be as you made it.

The scent was almost gone. It probably already was, and her mind only hung onto a placebo effect to keep this tragic story alive. It wouldn’t surprise her.

Maybe that’s what she deserved. Punishing herself with what if’s and constant wonder for allowing herself to get distracted.

What was she thinking… She was in no place to pursue anything other than her career; much less anyone.

She cursed that weakness of hers that afternoon. The one revolving around scents and beautiful things.

But alas, it was all said and done now. There was nothing she could do but move forward.

In which direction, though?

Biting her lower lip, she contemplated her options.

Her eyes didn’t leave her rose for several minutes, barely blinking. If she did, she was sure to see salt drops landing on the piece of sculpted paper.

She had been miserable enough. She wasn’t about to cry too.

A soft, shaky sigh made its way past her lips.

“Screw it.”