#Tutorial adjacent?

[proxykiwi]

i already replied in the comments but i thought an example might make more sense and also help others.

This is a photo of a tree i'm working on - now i don't have a super blendy style but i still want to use this to point out a couple of things.

Look at how flat my paints are. Your paint has a Bunch of Texture and unless that's specifically what you were going for, I think it's a result of using too much medium. Acrylics are fine right out of the tube; for blending, I think the slightly paste-y texture of acrylic is actually preferable to very smooth flowing paints. Lather that paint on thick and then blend. Can't do that if you thinned your paint to the point of ink.

another factor in flat paint is brush quality. Consider playing around with softer or more flexible brushes (not quite the same thing) if your current brushes are very stiff, or stiffer brushes if your current brushes are soft. Typically acrylics brushes are slighty stiffer and not as absorbent as watercolour brushes, and flexibility is up to your own preference. I personally reallly like "cat tongue" shaped brushes:

3. Pretty much nothing is going to make acrylics a slow drying paint and you should not try to paint with it the way oils are used. Wetting the canvas/paints and slow-dry medium are just ways to keep your paint a bit more workable for longer, they don't turn acrylics into oils (sorry). The only way, afaik, to blend acrylics is to put on one colour thickly, put the other colour on right after and gently blend. You can still identify the colour fields in my example, even though the edges were blended together. In some cases, I've also "pushed" the new paint into the old paint, where you see the canvas texture come through.

4. Imho, blending is the least important painting skill to learn. It is so much more important to learn to pick out colours and shapes and edges, and how to suggest mass and light and shadow with them. If your teacher is focusing on blending, with all respect, fuck them. You're doing great, that pot looks really good and having layers of colours Suggest A Thing is exactly how to use acrylics.

Good luck with the painting class, this got a bit rambly but I hope you find joy in learning this new art medium! Learning a new material is capital-H Hard, don't let anyone make you think otherwise.

painting class not going great, i think I was happier using paint as ink. I am having a very bad time blending in acrylic and I don't see that improving much because even using a wet palette and spraying the back of my canvas and using a slow dry medium shit is just drying too fast.

The shading that I think is actually effective on this is the pot and that's not really blended that's a bunch of colors mixed and put down in different layers. The part that I hate the most is the shadows on the towels and that's the part where I was using the "correct" blending techniques the most.

[adelarsims]

display index list (numbers)

for sorting your cc in cas!

i've been mentioning sorting cc a lot lately, and one thing i mentioned is that i started it all mainly because i hated how maxis items are always scattered among cc - it doesn't look good, and i keep forgetting some things exist

so one of the most important points for me was to figure out the biggest display index number maxis uses, and give all cc numbers bigger than that, so all maxis items would go first. for people who want to do the same but don't know how to figure out numbers, i'll post my numbers list to use.

i also recommend skipping display numbers between your folders (e.g. 300, 305, 310 or 300, 310, 320 etc instead of 300, 301, 302), so that in case you look in cas and don’t like where you put a batch of cc and want to move them later, you have a wiggle room and don’t have to reassign everything else.

warning: this list is just for human adults. i didn't check infants, toddlers, children and werewolves because i don't use cc for them.

these are maxis numbers, you need to use numbers bigger than these.

-

Hair: 220

Eyebrows: 0

Facial hair: 50

-

All genetic details: 0

All scars and body freckles: 0

All tattoos and medical wearables: 0

Teeth: 6

-

Top: 1025

Bottom: 1000

Fullbody: 1075

-

Hat: 5000 (maxis, why?)

Necklace: 195

Earring: 160

Glasses: 0

All face piercings: 0

-

Shoes: 170

Socks: 175

Tights: 140

Gloves: 90

-

Bracelet right: 80

Bracelet left: 40

Index finger left: 15

Middle finger left: 25

Ring finger left: 15

Index finger right: 0

Middle finger right: 10

Ring finger right: 10

Fingernails and toenails: 0

-

Eyeshadow: 20

Eyeliner: 20

Blush: 1 (maxis, what's even the point?)

Lipstick: 35

Facepaint: 53

-

[imvec]

Some (kinda nerdy tbh) notes on light through eyes

[luxshine]

Lemme tell you a bit of the best buy I made for my art last year.

First, this is NOT a sponsored post. This is honestly from the bottom of my heart, because I didn't think this would help me at first, and a month later? I have 100% changed my mind.

See, you probably have seen the ads on face or other social media about the Body-kun and Body-chan figures for artists. They are fully articulated manequins you can pose however you want, and have a variety of hands and accessories that come with them. In the box, they look like this:

(This one in specific is the Sport Deluxe Set. I am not sure you can still get the original normal version, as Tamashii nation makes them in limited quantities and I haven't seen anywhere that sells the original ORIGINAL one anymore)

Now, this is VERY important, I said the ORIGINAL one because there are a TON of bootlegs going around. And I mean a TON. It's so bad that the first site you get when you google Body-kun and Body-chan (the female) is one for Bootlegs (usually announcing a 50% sale, where each figure is about $30 dlls or so.

Now, at first glance, the bootleg and the original look very similar. In fact, years ago, I had bought a bootleg thinking it was an original and boy, I was disappointed!

First, Bootleg-kun is far less flexible than Original-kun as you can see in the pic (I have no idea where his base dissappeared to, but he came with one). But also, the plastic it is made of is SO CHEAP that the hands became... impossible to remove an put again (as you're supposed to be able to) and in fact, Bootleg-chan just, lost her left hand articulation one day. I have a one-hand girl.

For more comparisons: These are my two first Originals (the girl is the "Birdie-wing" golfer edition... more on that later)

While these are the two bootlegs (Chan is holding her arm like that because, it also went off)

And again, you can see here how much more natural the Original can move:

Sports Edition even comes with balls and bats and a baseball glove!

While golfer chan Has two extra legs so you can make her kneel even more.

You can use them digitally, taking pictures and then tracing your skeleton over them Or traditionally, using them as models, which is what I do.

And I loved them SO MUCH, that I had to get other two (mostly because although bootleg kun helped for couple poses, his limited flexibility didn't allow for much variation.

Only that this time, I got the "normal" Sport edition girl, whom I call the gymnast. (the boy version is the same as before)

And once again, you can see the difference! The gymnast is more buff, and has more articulations, which makes her more flexible (Although for some reason? Not as flexible as the boys)

But the best part? The gymnast comes with extra FEET. More specifically, ICE SKATE wearing feet!

anyway, the point of all this is that thanks to being able to both visualize AND touch how the body parts move, I can now be a lot more confident on my poses and so this:

Becomes this:

Too long didn't read version: Do get a Body kun and a body chan (Or two body kuns or two body chans if you do Slash or femslash) But if you do? AVOID the bootlegs! The extra money is worth it so you can do EVERYTHING you want with your figures. Check on the site that they are TAMASHII NATIONS brand! (and if you want, I can show more WIPS from the pose of the dolls to the final product here!)

[smerdulos]

Inktober Day 15: Guidebook

Just a tiny glimpse in my art process. Maybe I should make more of these...

[lordichamo]

this is an extremely important question. what is your favorite dinosaur

OOOO okay.... i don't know about FAVORITE favorite but archaeopteryx and spinosaurus are always neat... and velociraptors.... i did also like pterosaurs growing up but idk how high up I'd rank them these days

[aysrin]

Needle Felt Siffrin Build Log: (oct 6 - nov 20, 2024)

Credits goes wholely to @insertdisc5 for creating ISAT and siffrin's design! I am just here to attempt to make cool fanart (and get more people to play isat.. my devious plans are going great so far :3) As always, this isn't a tutorial- it is just a log about how i go about approaching a sculpture and I hope this collection of resources can help others make their own sifs!!

PSA: this has some spoilers for endgame CGs/sprites on my references image board ( also might see it in the backgrounds of my process pics). And bc this is needle felting, you will see some sharp needles! beware!

my inspiration was the intro cutscene where Sif eats the star, so my main goal was to adhere to the style of ISAT as closely as possible while transfering it to 3D space. And I knew i also wanted to try making the cloak for stopmotion purposes, so my process was tailored towards having control over the fabric with wire inlaid within the cloak (more on that later).

I ended up not sticking eyebrows on top of siffrin's bangs lol but anyways, first order of business is Gather Reference! v important. pureref is free and an awesome program. I also do some sketches to visualize the pose and important details i wanted to include in the sculpt.

behold the isat wiki gallery page! tawnysoup wrote an awesome ISAT style guide that absolutely rings true in 3d space too!! adrienne made a sif hair guide here!! (sorry i couldnt find the original link, but it's on the wiki). It says ref komaeda hair so that's what i looked at, along with other adjacent hairstyles! I also like doing drawovers on in progress photos to previs shapes n stuff to get a better idea of the end result.

Also if you're like me and struggle with translating stuff into 3D space, take a look at how people make 3d models and figurines! sketchfab is also a great resource! I looked at the link botw model by Christoph Schoch here for hair ref. (I used Maya, but there's a blender version too ! you can pose characters too if your model has been rigged!)

Face:

Started off blocking out the main shapes of eyelids and iris, and then filling in the colour details in the iris and the star highlights before moving onto adding thin black outlines and eyelashes. I didn't take many in-progress photos cause i kept ripping stuff out to redo them many many times, sorry!! This eye took about 3 hrs bc i just wasn't happy with it!! Sometimes it do be the vibe to give up, go to bed and see how it looks in the morning (more often than naught, it looks fine and it was the "dont trust yourself after 9pm" speaking)

The Mouth:

Couldn't decide if i even wanted to add a mouth as per usual with all my humanoid sculptures.. but i did some drawover tests first to see what expression i liked and to try to visualize it from multiple angles. (I was also testing the placement of stars on the hat brim here)

And then I redid the mouth like 3 times cause the angle just wasn't right (this went on for about the course of a week yay!)

Hair: woe baldfrin be upon ye

I made the hair strands individually first, and then since Sif has some of the hair at the back dyed black, i covered some of the tips with black wool (manually) (I think it would go much faster if i just took a marker to it, but hahaha i love pain and detailing!! )

And then the rest of it was positioning strands with sewing pins layer by layer, always looking at it from different multiple angles- sometimes tailoring the angle or swoop of individual hair flippies. At one point I thought the back looked too cluttered, but the hat covers a lot of it anyways!! yay for hiding mistakes! (imo this is a similar process to how cosplayers style wigs, but on a smaller scale and the same level of time consuming)

As always, look to your reference for guides, and I always do a whole bunch of drawovers over in progress photos to ascertain what was working and what wasn't.

Hat:

A trick to get a super pointy tip, make another tip seperately while keeping the connection point unfelted, and then combine the two to make super pointy hat!! (this also helps if you made the hat too short and need it to be taller. ask me how i know)

The embroidery on the hat brim was done in a hoop and then invisible stitched to the felted top portion. Technically you don't need a hoop but it helps keep the fabric tension, so you avoid puckers in your embroidery. You can also use iron-on stabilizer if your fabric is loose weave or particularly thin. this is the tutorial i used for the stars embroidery! particularly the fly stitch one, french knots, and the criss-cross stitches. highly recommend needlenthread for embroidery stitches and techniques! i learned all my embroidery from this single site alone.

For fabric, I think I used a polycotton i had in my stash,, unsure of the actual fiber content bc i bought it a long time ago. I used DMC Satin floss which was nice and subtle shiny but frayed a lot so it was kind of a pain to stitch with... but keep a short thread length and perservere through it!! After the embroidery was done, I folded up the raw edges and invisible sewed it to the top portion of the hat.

General shape:

Ok general structure of the body is this: wire armature body covered with black wool -> cloak lining & wire cage -> edge of lining is invisibly sewn to the main cloak at the hem -> head

Don't be afraid to mess around with the pattern, it's essentially a pizza with a slice taken out of it to form a steep cone shape!! Use draft paper before cutting into felt to save material! (i think i made like 3 cloaks before i was happy with the shape lol).

You can also hide the seam of the cloak and collars by gently messing up the fibers of the felt with your fingers or a felting needle btw! you can also sandpaper the seams according to Sarah Spaceman in this vid (highly recommend them for their in depth cosplay/crafting builds holy smokes), though since sif cloak is at such a smol scale, I just blended the seam with my felting needle.

For the lining wire cage section, I sewed in wire around the cloak, so the main rotation point is at the top neck area under the collar. These paddles are used to keep whatever pose I need the cloak to be in for stopmotion purposes. Then after the wire is done, I invisibly sewed the lining to the cloak at the hem (same technique as the hat brim to the lining there).

In hindsight, I should've used a thinner fabric for the lining, but i only had sheer white in my stash so had to go with double felt, thus resulting in a really bulky lining but oh well!

Heels:

started with the general boot shape, then tacking on the diamond shape heel stack and also diamond shape sole bc we're committed to the bit here. I skewer the boot onto the armature which also conveniently hides the connection point into the base to keep the whole thing upright and also I can rotate the boot to tweak the angle if needed.

Pins:

I kinda just trial and error'd jewellery wire with pliers into the pin shapes. They're itty bitty!! had a whole bunch of fails before i got two nice ones. A hot tip is to use needle nose pliers and wrap the wire around the tip to get a smooth circle shape!

Base:

I smoothed out the edge of a circular wood base with a dremel, and then used wood stainer to get the black colour. It ended up kinda looking like I took a sharpie to it, but whatever.... now i have a whole ass can of black wood stainer........ I then made a rough mountain of black wool and stuck the feet armature in. And now he's standing!!

Normally at this point when I'm done felting everything, to get a smooth finish, I'd take a small pair of scissors and carefully snip away any flyaway fibers, but this time, I just left them fluffy cause i think that's what sif would do :3c

Photoshoot:

Normally I do shoots using daylight but it was winter so the sun was nonexistent. So I broke out the home lighting setup aka dollarstore posterboard for a nice smooth background, and then hit it with the overhead Fill, side Fill 2, and Rim light, and use white paper/posterboard for bounce light if one side feels too dark. But if things are overexposed, you can move the light sources away until the harshness dims down. I'm using a Olympus mirrorless camera (handed down to me by my sibling so i dont remember the model exactly), which can connect to my phone as a remote so I can avoid shaking the camera when i take photos. Pretty nifty for stopmotion purposes! (yes my camera stand is a stack of notebooks, a tissuebox and some eva foam under the lens, don't judge me)

Stopmotion animation:

I'm still figuring stopmo out on my part, but my process was straight ahead animation ... move the cloak a cm, take a pic.... move another cm, click.... and repeat until i get a version I was happy with. My ref was the cloak animation from Gris (beautiful game btw). The 2d star animation was also done straight ahead using procreate, exported in png with a transparent background, and finally stitched together with the stopmotion footage in photoshop.

My turnarounds are also stopmotion! also secret hack, the turntable is a fidget spinner sticky tacked to a cake platter.

And i think that's all! i mainly wanted to share how I go about thinking about taking a 2d concept and moving it to 3D. I also didn't go in depth into how to actually do the needle felting bc I don't think I''d be very helpful I'm a very good teacher by telling yall to just keep stabbing until it looks right (i'm self taught for this hobby),,, if anyone wants it though, i can share a bunch of tutorials and other felters' process that helped me learn more needle felting!

Hopefully this was helpful to someone! Feel free to send asks if ya got any questions or if anything needs clarification! Or show me your works! I love seeing other people's crafts :3

here have a cookie for making it this far 🥐

[aleksatia]

Unnatural Terrain for a Natural Thing

CW/TW: emotional birth content, graphic childbirth (natural/emergency), blood, pain, implied nudity, medical stress, fear of complications, strong emotional reactions, vulnerability, soft!Xavier, forest birth, wilderness setting, temporary communication loss, pregnancy in danger, protective partner, trauma-adjacent intensity, one (1) terrified man doing his best. Pairing: Xavier x Pregnant!You (established relationship) Genre: Emotional intensity meets survival-mode devotion. A birth story set far from sterile walls, where instinct, love, and sheer will carry the moment. Hurt/comfort turned reverent awe. Domesticity cracked open under pressure. Summary: You said you'd stay home. But you didn’t. Now Xavier’s running through the forest, chasing a signal that won’t answer and praying he’s not too late. He’s trained for every scenario — except the one where you’re bleeding and breathless and still managing to smirk at him through the worst pain of your life. A story about trust, blood, one white shirt, and the moment love becomes something holy. Word Count: 3.6K More: same birth scenario (give or take), different men, drabble-style.

You kissed him that morning. Just a brush of lips above the collarbone, warm and lazy. He hadn’t looked up from the monitor—too focused on the glitch in the west perimeter readings. You told him you were staying in. That you’d rest. That you’d be good.

He believed you.

He even smiled a little, hand trailing across your swollen belly in silent promise. His world, right there. Home, heart, purpose.

And then you were gone.

He found out from Simone. She cornered him outside Ops, biting her lip so hard she bled.

“She said it was nothing—just to check a reading—I didn’t think she’d—Xavier, please—”

But he was already moving. His blood had gone cold.

The coordinates were dead. No signal. No comms. No teleportation. The anomaly had killed everything.

He couldn’t reach you.

And so he ran. Boots pounding the moss and root-laced dirt, trees slicing past in green and gold. He hadn’t been through this forest in years — but his feet knew the shape of it. Memory blurred into instinct. He expected to find you lost. Angry. Turned around. But nothing—nothing—prepared him for what he found.

You were curled at the base of a tree, half-collapsed. Pale. Breathless. One hand white-knuckled in the soil, the other clenched over your belly.

And blood. A dark line streaked down your thighs.

His breath stopped.

He had studied birth.

He had read every godsforsaken guide. Natural deliveries, complication charts, premature signs, maternal distress indexes. All of it. He knew, on paper, exactly what to do. Timing contractions. Supporting the perineum. Assessing dilation.

But this—this was you.

You, gasping. You, crying out. You, blinking up at him through pain so deep it cracked something in his ribs.

He dropped to his knees beside you.

Not Lumière. Not legend. Not even soldier. Just a man—your man—terrified out of his mind.

“Gods,” he whispered, throat tight. “No—no, no, no—”

You tried to sit up. Another contraction slammed through you, and you bent double, screaming. He caught you. Arms around your body, shielding you from the world.

He’d studied the graphs. He’d watched the tutorial videos. He could recite the stages of labour in six languages. But none of them mentioned what it would feel like to see you in this kind of pain. None of them told him what to do with the way his heart was breaking open in his chest.

Still—he moved. He had to.

He pulled off his coat, laid it down. Positioned you on your side, cradling your head in one hand, the other stroking your spine in the slow, anchoring rhythm he'd read about. You were shivering. Muttering broken syllables.

“You’re doing fine,” he told you. It was a lie. You were doing the impossible. “You’re safe. I’ve got you. I’m here.”

His voice shook. He bit down on it. Hard.

You looked up at him. Your face was wet with sweat, eyes glassy, but you were still there—you. Breathing. Thinking. Glaring, even. Gods, how were you still glaring?

And somehow—smirking.

That undid him more than any of the blood.

“I’ve read everything,” he murmured, brushing your hair off your forehead with a hand that definitely wasn’t trembling. “Everything. Diagrams. Protocols. Tactical field delivery guides. But I’ve never—” He hesitated. “Not with you. Not like this.”

You hissed as another contraction flared, teeth gritted. “Cats do this in bushes.”

He blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

“Cats,” you repeated, voice cracking around the pain. “No gloves. No comms. No Evol.” You sucked in a breath, eyes narrowing. “So you can—damn well manage.”

His mouth twitched. Gods. Of course you’d throw zoology at him during labour. Of course you would.

“Right,” he said. “Noted. Next time we’re in crisis, I’ll consult a tabby.”

You didn’t laugh. Not really. But something in your chest hitched, and your hand found his shirt, bunched it in your fist.

His heart was pounding. Not from the running. Not from the forest.

From this—you, in pain, clutching at him like he was the only fixed point in a world gone to chaos.

He lowered his head slightly, resting his cheek against your temple for just a moment. You were so warm. Too warm.

“Alright,” he murmured. “We’re okay. You’re okay. We’ve got time.”

You gave a weak, disbelieving snort. “Feels like being stabbed every four minutes.”

He gave a breath of something almost like a laugh. “Yes, well. We… expected that.”

Sheer understatement. The books had used words like waves, pressure, discomfort. None of them had mentioned the way your whole body convulsed like it was trying to tear itself in half.

Another tremor passed through you. Short. Not a full contraction. But enough.

He adjusted behind you, sitting straighter, bringing you with him so your back rested fully against his chest. You sagged into him.

His arms tightened around you instinctively. Shielding. Anchoring.

“You don’t need to push yet,” he said gently. “Right now, you just breathe. That’s your only job.”

Your fingers gripped his wrist. “How do I know when it’s time?”

His throat worked before he answered. That part wasn’t in the books. Not really.

He cleared his throat. “Technically, you’ll feel pressure. Downward. Like—like you need to use the toilet.”

You were silent a moment. Then: “That’s deeply undignified.”

He exhaled, half amused, half wrecked. “You’re telling me?”

He paused, swallowed hard. Then, softly:

“Before that… I should check for dilation.”

There. It was out. Clean. Clinical. But it still landed like something heavy.

You stiffened almost immediately. He felt it in the way your back straightened, in the way your fingers stilled on his forearm.

“No.”

His heart pulled.

“Love,” he said gently, “I won’t—not unless you say yes. But if you think we’re getting close—”

“No,” you said again, voice shaking now. “You’re not going to see me like that.”

And that—that landed like a blade. Not because you said no. But because of why. Because underneath the pain, underneath the fear, there was shame.

You, who’d walked through fire with him. Slept under broken skies. Faced Wanderers with a pulse of steel and a half-loaded blaster. You were ashamed to be seen—by him—like this.

It gutted him. But his voice didn’t shake. It couldn’t. Not for your sake.

“Alright,” he said softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Alright. Then we wait.”

No judgement. No pressure. Just quiet, certain presence.

He settled back again, supporting you more fully now, your spine curved into him, your breath ragged.

His fingers traced calming patterns along your arm, light as wind. He focused on the rhythm of your breathing, trying to sync his own with yours. Trying to lend you his steadiness.

“You’re doing everything right,” he murmured. “You’re breathing. You’re listening to your body. That’s what matters.”

You let out a noise between a groan and a whisper. “What if we don’t make it? What if I can’t do it? What if something’s wrong and we don’t know because you’re not allowed to look—”

“Hey. Hey—” He turned your face gently toward his. His forehead touched yours, grounding you. “Look at me.”

You did.

“We had the scan last week,” he said. “Head down. Perfect alignment. No signs of complications. No warning flags. And you—” his voice caught, but he steadied it, “you are doing this exactly as you should. She’s just taking her time.”

“She?”

He blinked. “I didn’t mean—just… the baby. Sorry.”

But you didn’t protest. You were too tired.

He kissed your cheek again. “I will be here for every breath. Every second. You don’t have to do any of this alone.”

There was a pause. Then—quiet, small:

“If… if it gets worse. If I feel like I need to push. Will you…”

“I’ll help,” he said instantly. “Only then. Only if you want me to. We’ll take it one step at a time.”

You nodded. Once. He felt it.

And then you sagged into him again. Not surrender—just trust.

He held you tighter, but gently, as if afraid you might shatter.

Inside, his mind kept running—measuring minutes between contractions, tracking signs, remembering every medical note, every diagram, every scenario from those long, sleepless nights when he studied for this moment and prayed he’d never have to use any of it in the middle of a godsdamned forest.

But outside?

Outside, he was steady as the roots beneath you. Because you needed him to be.

The next contraction hit like a thunderclap—violent, full-bodied, and merciless.

You twisted against him with a sound that wasn’t a scream, wasn’t even human—just raw, desperate pressure breaking free.

He held you as you arched, gritted his teeth as you clawed at his arm.

Your voice came in fragments now. Shattered glass.

“Xav… it’s… Gods— it’s too much—I can’t— I can’t—”

“You can,” he said, though his own breath was starting to shake. “You are.”

You slumped forward. Your body had no more room for words. Just breath. Just heat. Just fire from the inside out.

Then you whispered—so small, so hoarse it barely registered:

“Pushing. Want to—push—can’t stop—”

His entire body went still.

That was it.

That was transition.

He closed his eyes for half a second. Felt the cold edge of panic knock once—just once—on the door of his chest.

He didn’t let it in.

But when he opened his eyes again, they burned.

“I need to check,” he said quietly. “Just once. Then we’ll know.”

You didn’t answer. Another spasm wracked you. You doubled over with a broken sob. And then—your hand weakly gripped his wrist.

“Okay,” you rasped. “Do it. Just—don’t say anything. Don’t react. Just—do it.”

His throat was dry. He nodded.

“I won’t see you,” he promised, voice stripped down to the core. “Not like that. I’ll see what needs seeing. Nothing else.”

He moved quickly, precisely, laying you back just enough, bracing your hips with one arm, reaching with the other—slow, clinical, careful.

He had to separate it. You—the woman he loved—

And this: the medical necessity.  Function. Anatomy. Nothing more.

His fingers found you. Not clumsy. Not invasive. Just precise. Controlled.

He had no clinical experience. Only theory. Diagrams burned into memory. Models. Sketches. Silhouettes.

He remembered the spacing—two fingers across, then three. The depth. The softness of the rim when it was ready. The slight give under pressure.

He measured with his own hand, adjusting, confirming what he hoped he already knew—

And what your body had already told him. Pressure low. The baby was descending.

And then—

No rim.

His breath caught.

You were fully dilated. Ten. Complete. The cervix had disappeared under his touch. It was just you now—you and the child between.

And the next contraction came on like a thunderclap. He was barely back behind you before you surged forward with a sob.

“Push— I have to push—”

His arm wrapped around your waist, catching you, steadying.

“It’s time,” he whispered, breath hitching. “You’re ready. She’s ready.”

He didn’t let you see the way his eyes burned. He didn’t let you hear the part of him that was shaking, not from fear—no.

From awe.

From the unbearable, quiet truth that the woman he loved was about to bring his child into the world. Right here. In his arms. And all he could do was catch her. Hold her. Witness you become divine.

Your cry tore through the trees.

It wasn’t loud—not really. But it was final. Elemental. A sound ripped from the deepest part of you.

Xavier braced you gently, one hand supporting your thigh, the other steady at your lower back, guiding your body as it arched into the next wave.

“Push,” he said, voice low, calm, anchored. “Now. With the contraction. Just this one.”

You bore down with a guttural sob, and he felt it — all of it. The power. The resistance. The moment everything began to give way.

Then silence. A breath.

And it was starting.

He shifted slightly on his knees, closer, reverent. The forest around you didn’t exist anymore. Time didn’t exist. There was only this clearing, this woman, this child — and him.

He needed something clean.

His gaze flicked to the ground—his coat. Already beneath you, soaked through with dirt, sweat, and blood. It wouldn’t do. Couldn’t.

He cursed under his breath.

Then—his hands went to his collar.

The shirt. White. Crisp. Still dry. It would have to be enough.

He stripped it without hesitation, fumbling only once with the buttons, skin prickling with cold as he peeled it off. The air hit his back like ice, but he didn’t care. He folded the shirt quickly, then spread it across his lap—his thighs just beneath where your body rested against him.

That’s where she’ll land, he thought. She deserves something clean.

His hands moved before his mind could catch up. He reached for his belt—unfastened the sheathed knife he always carried. A weapon, once. Now, a tool.

The blade caught what little light there was. Forest-dark steel.

He flicked the lighter open, held the flame to the edge of the knife until it hissed, glowed dull orange. His palm burned from the heat, but he held it steady. The acrid scent of scorched metal twisted into the night air—earth and sweat and blood and fire.

Once done, he laid the knife on the clean white fabric beside him, far from you but within reach. Handle turned just so. Ready.

Only then did he look up at you. And everything else disappeared.

You cried out — a sound pulled from the centre of the earth. Your body curled forward, shaking. He reached — one hand bracing your thigh, the other steady beneath to guide.

You pushed.

And the world cracked open.

A slick weight slipped into his hands.

She was here.

He caught her. Gently. As if she might fall through the world if he wasn’t careful.

She was warm. Heavy. Unbelievably small.

For a moment he couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t speak.

She let out a wail that startled birds from the trees.

High. Piercing. Demanding.

Alive.

His lips parted, but no words came—just a choked sound, part laugh, part sob.

He turned her slightly in his hands, instinct leading action: checking her chest—rising. Good. Legs flexing. Strong. The cry—forceful. No retraction, no dusky colour, no silence.

She’s breathing. She’s breathing on her own.

He pressed her to his chest, skin to skin, the heat of her sinking into him like something sacred.

Then, with trained precision, he laid her down briefly on the shirt across his thighs. His hands moved without hesitation: found the cord, still pulsing faintly. He tied it carefully with a strip of thread from his own seam—double-knot, firm but not tight. Just as the manual had said. Two fingers from the belly.

He reached for the sterilised knife. No shaking now. Only purpose.

A clean slice. The cord slackened. She was fully in the world now.

He scooped her back up, bundled her gently in the folds of his shirt, and turned to you.

You were half-conscious, panting, eyes glassy—but they locked with his the moment you heard her.

“She’s here,” he whispered. His voice broke. “She’s alright. You did it. Gods, you did it.”

Your hand found his wrist. Weak. Wet with sweat. But real.

He returned to you immediately, settling behind you once more, your back folding into his chest, his arms wrapping around you both. Warmth. Shelter. The world narrowed to the circle of his embrace.

He moved gently, reverently, unbuttoning your blouse with one hand, baring the curve of your chest. You didn’t stop him. Didn’t need to.

He laid the baby on your skin. And everything fell silent.

Her cries softened. Her mouth turned instinctively, nuzzling, searching. You curled your arm around her—slow, protective, shaking.

Xavier stared.

Not at the blood. Not at the mess. At you. And her. And what you had both become in this moment.

And then you groaned again.

His whole body tensed.

“What is it? What’s—”

“Still,” you managed. “One more…”

Of course. The placenta.

“Okay,” he said quickly, his arms tightening around you, helping you lean forward just enough. “It’s alright. Let it happen. Don’t fight it. Just breathe.”

You pushed once—twice—and then the soft, wet mass slid free. Heavy. Intact.

He gave a ragged exhale. It was over.

You collapsed back into him, hollowed out but whole.

The baby shifted on your chest. Still now. Warm. Real.

And for the first time, Xavier let go—just a little. He pressed his forehead to the side of your head, eyes closed, breath catching in his throat.

You were safe. She was alive. And he—

He was undone.

The forest had never been this quiet.

You were limp in his arms, the baby bundled tight against your chest beneath the folds of his ruined coat and his dirt-streaked shirt. He’d covered your hips as best he could—your legs, trembling and bare, now wrapped in everything warm he had left. His body heat did the rest.

He looked down once—just once.

You. Her. Breathing in the same rhythm. Your cheek against her forehead.

His family.

“I’m carrying you,” he said softly. “We need to get you to a hospital. I’ll run if I have to.”

You didn’t answer. Just stirred faintly. Trusted him.

Of course you did.

He gathered you both into his arms and stood—slowly, carefully, making sure her head was cradled between you, that your spine aligned with his chest. One step. Another. The weight didn’t matter.

He’d carry you to the end of the world.

But he didn’t have to.

Light glinted through the trees. Voices. Boots. Flashlights cutting through the fog.

Medics.

Simone had sent them. He knew it instantly. They rushed forward—soft chaos, hands outstretched, voices sharp and gentle at once.

He didn’t speak. Just surrendered you both into capable arms with a kind of silent reverence. He stayed close. Never let you out of his line of sight. Never let her out of his hands.

The hospital was white. Quiet. Sterile in a way that made the memory of forest moss and blood feel like a fever dream.

You lay on a low cot, pale but stable, a drip in your arm, your heartbeat steady under layers of warm linen. Antibiotics. Fluids. Everything under control.

“She’s perfect,” the doctor said after checking her over. “Strong lungs. No sign of distress. You did everything right.”

Xavier hadn’t sat down since they brought you in.

He paced. Slowly. Back and forth. The baby in his arms, bundled in the softest blanket they could find. She was sleeping now, one hand curled like a tiny fist near her mouth.

He looked down at her like she was made of glass.

Or starlight.

He had seen her come into this world. Had felt the weight of her as life began. Had watched blood turn into breath, watched pain become existence. Nothing—nothing—had prepared him for that.

She stirred, and he stopped pacing.

You were awake now, watching him through half-lidded eyes, drug-heavy but calm.

He came to your side. Sat carefully on the edge of the bed.

“She’s yours,” he said, and there was something cracked in his voice he didn’t bother to hide.

He placed her gently into your arms, guiding your hands with his, still beneath hers. You cradled her awkwardly—your arm stiff from the IV line.

“She wants to feed,” you murmured. “I can’t… not yet.”

He shook his head. “She’s fine. Just hold her. That’s all she needs.”

You both watched her sleep.

So small. So utterly here.

Her hair—soft and pale, almost silver-gold—shone faintly under the hospital light.

You smiled. “She has your eyes.”

Xavier was quiet a long time. Then—his voice, low, fragile, certain:

“I didn’t know I could love you more than I already did.”

You turned your head. He was still looking at the baby.

“But I watched you carry her. For months. Every discomfort. Every fear. Every impossible day.”

He swallowed hard.

“And then I saw you bring her into the world. With your body. With your pain. With your strength.”

His eyes flicked to yours, and for a moment, they were sea-glass clear.

“And I realised,” he said, almost a whisper, “I’ve only ever loved the surface of you.”

Your breath caught.

“Everything deeper,” he said, “everything you never let me see until tonight—that’s where the real love lives.”

The baby stirred.

Just a small twitch—her fingers unfurling like petals, her lips parting in a dream. She shifted closer against your chest, seeking warmth she already knew by heart.

The monitors hummed softly. Footsteps passed far down the hall. But here—in this corner of sterile light and borrowed linen—everything was still.

Xavier's hand found yours, fingers threading together without thought, without effort.

You turned your head, your voice barely a breath.

“I want another.”

He blinked, startled.

“A boy,” you added, eyes never leaving the baby’s face. “Next time.”

He stared at you a moment. And then—he smiled. Quiet. Wrecked. Entirely in love.

“Yes,” he said. “Next time. And I’ll be with you again. From the very start to the very end. Always.”

[storiesofsvu]

Bump in the Night

Aaron Hotchner x reader warnings: language, some anxiety/fear, aaron to the rescue type vibes, nothing serious, just a creeper. This was supposed to be a drabble... I do not know what happened...

While you weren’t actually part of the BAU, you were best friends with Penelope which meant that any girls night’s, baking tutorials, birthday, Christmas or Halloween celebrations, you were invited. Over all of those events you’d become a friend of everyone on the team, a happy face for them to see after a long week or more away. You regularly helped Penelope get things set up for them or were the one out running errands or picking up treats while she was finishing work. It was as if the two of you were their own personal slice of sunshine, which was exactly why Hotch always felt a blooming of warmth in his chest whenever Garcia mentioned you’d be in attendance or he’d round the corner and lay eyes on you.

The two of you clicked, he surprised himself, already coming out of his shell on the first night you’d met, something he usually reserved until he’d had time to fully profile someone and make sure their intentions were good. Instead you had him laughing by the end of the night, a sight that you definitely wanted to see again. There was a mild flirtation, but nothing that anyone else ever picked up on, and not one that ever moved past a little tease here or there, an offhand comment about how you were prettier than the girl eyeing Aaron up, or that the muscley firefighter really wasn’t your type. You were friends, which was all you really needed.

Friends morphed into good friends over the course of the year that you knew each other. First it was a run in at a coffee shop, Aaron halfway out the door in a rush to work, just enough time to flash you a warm smile and say hello before parting ways.

The second time he was pulling into a gas station, spotting you hanging up the nozzle a few pumps down before you got back into your car to peel away down the street.

The third was the produce section of the grocery store, you spotted him first, eyes darting through the items in his basket, nearly making him jump when you suddenly spoke from behind him once you’d figured out what he was making for dinner.

Number four was a bright sunny Saturday afternoon, Jack had insisted on going to the park with a few friends and Aaron ended up chaperoning. One of the kids spotted a friendly dog and when they raced of to pet it, he realized you were on the other end of the leash and made a comment that he didn’t know you had a dog. With a glittering laugh you explained you were dog sitting and the moment Jack realized you were a friend of his dad’s; Aaron was the one stuck dog sitting while you were being dragged around the playground.

The fifth was a late Friday evening, Jack was away for the weekend and Aaron had stopped to pick up a bottle of wine to have with his take out. While he stood staring at the bottles he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye but didn’t look up until he heard the familiar laugh as you snuck in front of him to grab your favourite. He asked if you had a hot date and you practically snorted, saying the only company you had that night was a pair of sweats and your couch. You then raised a playful eyebrow and teasingly asked if he’d been stalking you and his cheeks instantly tinged pink, nearly fumbling his words as he tried to explain he lived around the corner. Your hand on his elbow suddenly brought him back down to his senses and he was able to laugh it off when he clued in that you were completely joking, explaining you’d been wondering the same thing.

Upon the discovery that you were in adjacent neighbourhoods and that you worked from home, you exchanged phone numbers. On the off chance the jet was delayed, you could pick up Jack from school, stopping at the park for an hour until Aaron was home, maybe even get started on dinner and homework. If there was a last minute case and Jessica was still at work, you’d head over to be the in between buffer so Hotch could leave right away. He was insistent on you calling whenever you needed anything, he picked up your mail when you went on vacation, helped out with the leaky pipe in your laundry room and came in very handy when it came to changing the light bulbs you couldn’t even dream of reaching.

Currently, Jack was away at summer camp and Aaron was swindled into finally using up some of his vacation time. The first few days he’d deep cleaned the house from top to bottom, next it was a similar treatment for the yard. By the time he’d reached the second Tuesday he’d ran out of things to do until he ran into you at the corner store and you suggested seeing a movie considering neither of you had anything to do and the movie theatre air conditioning couldn’t be beat. With the heat on the rise, and a plethora of summer blockbusters you continued the new tradition each night that week. Most days you drove together, Aaron either picking you up or walking you home from his place depending on the weather.

Friday you’d been out with friends for a late lunch, had a handful of errands to run and were closer to the theatre than home, meeting him there. When he asked if you needed a ride you let out a small laugh, explaining that you’d driven, but thanked him anyway, the smile evident on your cheeks as he wordlessly insisted on walking you to your car at the very least.

Car windows down you had music going on the drive home, pulling into the driveway and enjoying the song for one more chorus before finally turning off the ignition and collecting your things. You made your way through the front door, relocking it behind you and tossing your keys down onto the small table in the entry way as you toed off your shoes.

You were making a beeline through the house to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water when a couple of thumps from the other side of the wall caused you to jump, your heart leaping in your chest. You left the kitchen light off, tip toeing through the room and you realized you’d left the kitchen window ajar earlier to get some fresh air in. Letting out sigh of relief you pushed it down so it was only open an inch or two, though your eyes caught movement across the yard, a clattering that sounded like your garbage bins and your brow furrowed, wondering why the automatic security light hadn’t caught what you figured was a raccoon.

Padding across to the doorway you flicked the light switch a couple of times, normally if the light was activated already that did the trick, but this time the yard remained pitch black.

“For fuck’s sake.” You muttered, digging around in a cupboard until you found a spare bulb before unlocking the back door and stepping onto the porch. Reaching up you went to unscrew the bulb and let out another annoyed sigh that it was actually just loose, so you screwed it back in, shielding your eyes as it burst to life.

The screen door swung shut behind you as you stepped back inside and you noticed a small duffle bag on the edge of the porch that at first glance didn’t look that familiar, but you didn’t really think much of it. A few people on your street often leant things to one another and you had been waiting on a couple of gardening tools, but you weren’t about to look into it now. The hairs on the back of your neck were still standing up and you were ready to be back inside behind locked doors, especially as your motion stilled and the light flicked off once again.

As you crossed through the kitchen to finally pull open the fridge you heard yet another clatter from outside and your stomach dropped when the security light flicked back on. Fridge quickly shut you backed into it, up on your toes in an attempt to peer out the window, praying it was just an animal. There was a light scuffling right at the back porch and you were so thankful for having immediately locked the door.

You were even more thankful for the lock when your eyes finally caught the movement, a hand creeping up through the railing near the duffle bag and you couldn’t help the gasp that left your lips. At the sound, the hand froze and you immediately leapt forward, slamming the kitchen window all the way shut and you saw a shadowy figure dart through the outskirts of the yard, just out of reach of the light. Your heart thundering in your chest you were honestly surprised you were able to dig your phone out of your pocket and find Aaron’s contact.

“Hotchner.”

You felt a brief wave of relief wash over you at how quickly he answered, “I’m really wishing I’d taken you up on that ride now…”

“Why?” His voice immediately tensed, “what’s wrong?”

“There’s someone in my yard…” you let out a breath you’d been holding when the light outside flicked off, your shoulders starting to relax, “pretty sure he was there before I got home.” A crash echoed through the air and you jumped, your voice wavering when you spoke again “fuck he’s still here.”

“I’m already on my way, keep the doors locked, the lights off and stay away from the windows.”

“Yeah.” You muttered, heart racing as you heard his car start through the phone and he assured you he’d be right over before the phone line clicked.

Trying to keep your breath calm you kept your eyes trained on the window, backing into the pantry door so you were concealed by the fridge but could still see if the light went off again. It was only a matter of moments later you heard a car squealing to a halt out front, the door slamming shut followed by Aaron’s voice. You caught his shadow moving around the side of the house and the light in the backyard flicked back on when he announced himself, the gate booted open and you were just able to see someone launching themselves over the back fence into the alley before running off. All they needed was the threat of a federal agent and the assumption of a gun to peel off into the night.

You felt your breathing calming down as the sound of running got further and further away, finally dropping down into a chair at the kitchen table. Aaron, being Aaron, wasn’t satisfied with just running the perp off, doing a full sweep of both your front and back yards, checking the alleyway, under the porch and any nooks and crannies anything or person could possibly have been stashed. You heard him on the back step and glanced up to see him sifting though the duffle bag, a frown on his face, his lips pressed into a firm line. With a huff he scooped up the bag and sauntered across the yard, dropping it on the other side of the fence with the garbage before making his way back to the door. A brisk knock echoed through the kitchen followed by his voice,

“He’s gone, it’s just me, Aaron.”

You couldn’t help but let out a breath of a laugh, as if you hadn’t had your eyes on him the entire time, making sure everything was okay. Crossing the room you finally turned the kitchen light on, unlocking the door and letting it swing open.

“Hey.” You smiled softly, “thanks.”

“Of course.” His lips formed a tight smile as he stepped into the house, locking the door behind himself, “just to be safe I want to do a sweep inside, stay put.” His hand squeezed at your elbow as he moved past you and you were left awkwardly standing in your own kitchen until he returned.

“No psycho killers?” You asked, a shaky laugh in your throat.

“All empty.” He nodded, his features softening as he noticed the rapid rising and falling of your chest, “are you alright?”

“Yeah, sure.” You tried to wave him off but he took a step closer to you.

“Come here.” He crooked his hand and you surprised yourself with how quickly you closed the gap between the two of you, enveloping yourself in his arms. Aaron squeezed at you tightly, tucking you under his chin and just letting you breathe until he felt the tension begin to melt away from your body. “It’s alright. He’s gone and I highly doubt he’s coming back.” His lips brushed against the top of your hair as he spoke and something about it calmed you even further, finally pulling out of the embrace.

“What was in the bag?”

“Trophies.” He replied with a sigh and he only caught himself when your eyes widened. “No, no, not those kind of trophies.” His hand squeezed at your shoulder, “sorry. Keepsakes, prizes, expensive things that can be pawned or sold to the highest bidder. My guess is he was only here to get your valuables, you spooked him coming home and he just wanted the bag back, he probably hit a few houses on the block before here.”

“God he was on the porch.” You shivered, “probably right as I walked in.”

“And your instinct was to grab a light bulb?” Aaron’s lips twitched up in a teasing grin and your brow furrowed until you followed his gaze and realized you hadn’t let go of the object yet.

“No.” You huffed, “the backyard light wasn’t working, I went to change it but it just needed to be tightened.”

“You were out there?”

“Yeah.” You shivered again, this time heavier, “he was probably less than a foot away. God, that was stupid.”

“Agreed.” He frowned in your direction, “that happens again you call me right away, alright?”

“You think he loosened it?”

“Most likely. Easier to stay in the darkness, not alert the neighbours of anything weird. You’ve always said Mrs. Ferguson was a bit too nosy.” His lips flicked up into a grin again and you let out a small laugh, “he probably cased the neighbourhood, have you been keeping the same daily routine recently?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, “movies with you. But we almost always go at the same time and tonight’s movie wasn’t any shorter or anything, so why would I have been home before he expected it?”

It was Aaron’s turn to fumble over his words, his cheeks turning a pale shade of pink while he quickly ducked his gaze, letting out an awkward laugh before he glanced back up at you. “I guess now would be the proper time to admit that when I drive, I tend to take the scenic route…”

Your head titled in a curious and adorable way that didn’t help the burning in Hotch’s cheeks, “what? What’d you mean?”

God you were absolutely going to be the death of him and he knew it. This summer had finally brought something to the edge for Aaron and he’d been holding back, happy with the time he got to spend with you. The evening hangouts had began to start to feel more and more like dates with each one that went passed and he’d been hoping that you would start to think the same and be the one to break the tension. Instead, he found himself feeling flustered, standing in your kitchen at nearly midnight having to explain it to you.

“Don’t get me wrong, the movies are great, but there’s something about the way you light up afterwards that just makes me smile.” He started and you felt a fluttering begin in your stomach, one that finally wasn’t due to fear, “hearing you gush about things, delve so deep into characterization or the cinematography of it all, seeing you so passionate about it.. it just makes me happy. Honestly, it’s my favourite part of the day.”

“Oh…” you replied, the realization washing over you and for a moment Aaron was afraid you were about to step back, ask him to leave, but then you giggled and the smile broke out on your lips, “so you’re just a big ole’ softie?”

He shook his head, the smile bright on his cheeks, “I’ve grown to adore the time we spend together. I was planning on taking a detour tonight too, Pintango just launched a lavender honey flavour this week—”

“And you remembered that I couldn’t shut up about wanting to try it after the movie last week…” you felt your cheeks heat, “embarrassing on my part yet endearing on yours.”

“And lucky on life’s behalf that it didn’t happen, you’d be down a few heirlooms and pieces of technology.”

“Yeah, no kidding.” You wrapped you arms around yourself, “my adrenaline’s high enough lord knows I’m not gonna be able to sleep anytime soon.” With a sigh you glanced across at him, “don’t suppose you feel like sticking around for a bit? Keeping me company while I ramble on and on about useless facts?”

The sly smile on your cheeks nearly melted Aaron and he laughed softly, “I wasn’t planning on going anywhere.”

He followed you out to the couch, letting you get comfortable while you voted on a number of different movies before finally settling on one. A movie and a half later and you were relaxed into the crook of his arm, his hand just daring to softly play with your hair. You let out a long yawn, sinking even further into his side and he chuckled softly.

“You should get to bed, get some actual rest.”

“I’m still on edge. I don’t want to have to call you to come running for every bump in the night.”

This time Aaron did squeeze at your shoulder, shifting on the couch so you were forced to sit up straight and he could catch your gaze.

“I meant it when I said I wasn’t going anywhere, at least not until sunrise. That creep’s likely going to come back for his bag, that’s why I dumped it in the alley rather than bringing it inside. I don’t want you to be alone for that.”

“Mmm…” you hummed, a sleepy smile on your cheeks, “you’re sweet. Thank you.” Leaning in, your lips brushed against his cheek and Aaron felt his stomach do a flip flop. He squeezed at your hand, giving you a soft smile as you finally stood up off the couch. “Make yourself at home.”

“Sweet dreams.” He replied and you weren’t sure whether it was his words or the sleepiness that was making everything feel warm and fuzzy as you made your way to the bedroom.

It was a few hours later when you rolled over, only awake enough to shift your body into a more comfortable position until a thump outside had your eyes shooting open. It was very quickly followed up by the hissing of two cats and you let out a huff, rolling back onto your side.

Your bedroom door was left cracked open and there was a sliver of light and the tiniest hint of noise coming from the living room meaning Hotch was likely still awake. You swung your legs over the edge of the bed, reaching for a hoodie to tug over your head before you padded out to the living room, finding your overnight company peering out the window blinds. At the sound of your footsteps he glanced back over to you, his body relaxing.

“Did I wake you?”

“No,” you waved him off with a small yawn, “couple a cats outside my window.” You covered a second yawn with your hand and Aaron barely moved from his spot, curious as to why you were up already. You glanced from him to the couch, a mug of coffee on the coffee table, and finally to the television. “Hey…” you started, picking at the sleeves of your hoodie, “I get you’re doing the whole protective thing—and I appreciate it! I really do…but uh.. there’s no reason for you to stay awake all night.” You took a breath, the butterflies in your stomach fully awake and doing laps, “might as well come to bed.”

“Oh, well I was just going to wait until morning, head home to nap…” He started, unsure of what he even wanted to say. He was pretty sure you’d just woken up, and there was a pretty high change that your choice of words weren’t exactly what you intended, “but if you’re feeling okay, I could make up the couch?”

“Aaron.” You laughed, “the sun’ll be up in a couple of hours anyways, you need to sleep too.”

“I still want to make sure you’re safe, I’ll be alert out here.” He offered and you chuckled once again.

“And if he comes in through the bedroom window? No better place to protect me than right beside me.” You extended out your hand, “c’mon, humour me? Maybe I talk in my sleep and you’ll get to listen to more of those ramblings you seem to adore so much.”

It appeared the lack of adrenaline coursing through your veins and a couple hours of sleep made you not only fully comprehend what Aaron had admitted to earlier, but much more ballsy about acting on it. He laughed softly, feeling the heat creeping up the back of his neck and after glancing between you and the couch he knew that the latter was going to do a number on his back if he actually slept on it. So he flicked off the television, scooped up his phone and your hand slid into his like a glove so you could lead him to the bedroom.

You wordlessly climbed back into your bed, curling up on your side, letting out a soft sigh as you nuzzled into the pillows. Aaron watched you for a moment in the low light, a warmth blooming through his chest at just how at peace and comfortable you were with him around and he realized maybe there was something he liked even better than your ramblings.

“If you’re just gonna stand there and stare at me all night maybe I should kick you back to the couch.” You teased, your eyes cracking open and he let out a huff of a laugh, shaking his head as he snuck under the blankets.

“This okay?” He asked, trying not to take up too much of your space.

“Yes.” You replied, a smile on your lips as your eyes fell shut again, “but I can’t be held responsible if we wake up cuddling.”

Aaron chuckled, relaxing into the pillow as his breathing finally began to slow, chest rising and falling at the same time yours did, lulling him into sleep quicker than he could have imagined.

*

The stream of light coming through the blinds and the chirping of a bird outside your window was what woke him up first, his eyes scrunching slightly before they finally opened. His lips curved up into a grin, as it certainly did seem like you wouldn’t be the one responsible for any cuddling. You’d barely moved from where you’d curled up the night before, just rolled over to face the window, yet Aaron found himself wrapped around your back, arm circled around your waist, his head barely on his own pillow.

He shifted slightly, attempting to stretch out the stiff parts of his body without moving entirely and waking you up. However his attempts proved futile as you let out a soft groan, eyes scrunching at the brightness of the room before you stretched out your legs and rolled over to face him, a sparkle already in your eyes.

“Morning.” You murmured.

“Morning.” He replied, smiling softly.

“So not only are you a softie, you’re a sleep cuddler… what other secrets are you hiding?” You asked with a tease and he laughed.

“Would you believe me if I said I crocheted in my downtime?”

“Not in a million years. You don’t have any downtime.” Laughing, you swatted at his chest before sitting up, fully stretching your body out with a soft groan.

“Guess that one was a little too obvious.” He replied with a chuckle, sitting up at the sound of his phone pinging. He swiped open the notification as you swung your legs out of bed, scrolling through a couple of things on your own phone as you padded toward the hallway.

“Work?” You asked, his footsteps following you down the hallway toward the kitchen, “or do you have time for coffee?”

“No.” He pocketed his phone, “but unfortunately, also no. I promised Garcia I’d help her install one of those cat wall climbing, enrichment, obstacle courses.”

“Cute.” You shot him a smile before scooping out the appropriate amount of coffee for yourself.

“But if you’re free tonight…” he stepped toward you as you turned back to face him, “maybe I could pick you up, we could go get some ice cream?” Somehow Aaron’s heart wasn’t thundering in his ears this time and the smile you looked up at him with really was about to make him melt.

“I’d like that.” You replied, the butterflies in your stomach calmed, spreading warmth through your entire body.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Then it’s a date.” Smiling, his hand reached out, smoothing back a piece of your hair before trailing down your cheek, “I’ll see you at seven.” His hand on your chin he tilted your head to the side, lips brushing against your cheek, lingering for just a moment before he stepped back. You couldn’t help but smile at the slight blush on his cheeks as he gathered his things and headed toward the front door.

“I’ll see you at seven.” You repeated his words, “and Aaron?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t ever be afraid to call.”

“Oh believe me, I won’t.”

______________

Love Hotch & don't want to miss an update? Sign up for the taglist here! Have an idea for a fic? Send a request here! Feeling generous? Tip your writer here <3

______________________

@svushots @geekyandgay98 @onmykneesformarvel @emobabeyy @daddy-heather-dunbar @mrs-ssa-hotch @hotchandspencearedilfs @mina2000alex @telepathay @darlingsfandom @ssamorganhotchner @hotchsdoormat @hopedoesntknow @thehauntingofbasingse @plaidbooks @niyizh @tommyriddleobsessed @supercriminalbean @hotchs-bitch @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @emlynblack @ivyflowers13 @ratsnestinmyhair @silversprings-mp3 @originalbrunettecharacter @elz-artzzz @ssaaaronhotchnerr @itsrainingreid @speedynana @tgskitten @madamsnape921 @aaronandemilysbitch @mrs-ssa-hotch @nachofriess @khxna @tinyprettyangel @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @acctualdeemon @ch3rry-pops @moonlightjxuregui @int4n @looking1016 @just-moondust @ms-downhill @deanwinchestersgirl87

[millastaria]

Hi folks! Welcome to my art blog

I'm Milla! or you can call me Mill or Staria if you want ;D

This is my art blog where i post my fanarts and OCs i also post daily doodles aka the mini fellas!

i also do phone wallpaper sometimes! check the tag below!

current fandom:

Hermitcraft

Life Series/Traffic Series

other adjacent smps eg. empires, pirates, ratssmp, etc.

EPIC: The Musical

Indie games eg. Hollow Knight, Rain World

[ Commission me on VGen ]

[ Mini fellas pinterest board! ]

[ HADM2025 ]

[ Mini fellas Tutorial ]

[ My carrd ]

=FAQ=

my asks are closed for now as i am flooded with them lol

yes i will do more wallpapers of other mcyt but rn im doing the life series winners first then i'll do other lifers and then maybe other series

i'm an adult! i can laugh at adult jokes ;D

You can use my art for personal stuffs like pfp, banner, wallpaper, etc. as long as you give proper credit!

also you should not be profiting from my art in any way (unless agreed upon eg. commissioned art)

Most of the duos art are platonic! unless it's an official couple like the jizzie ;)

=Art Tools=

I am a phone artist I use my phone and fingers 📱👆

Art program: ibis paint

My brush: Genius Pen << lineart & Felt Tip Pen (Soft) << colors

[neigepomme]

omg i NEED to know what kind of tiktoks caleb sends to mc because i feel like his fyp would be so messy...like some lame lego tutorials, those long ass videos of dogs acting cute, how to be an alpha male tips and a bunch of brainrot. i just know his ass is sending the most random videos to her.......

CRACKING MY KNUCKLES i had to scour through my dms with some of my guy friends for this one.. i understand the man experience now (i don't. they fascinate me truly)

so here are some tiktoks caleb sends over! his fyp is in fact a mess but hey that's just the guy experience.. HIT THE LINKS TO WATCH 'EM!!

basketball related tiktoks — caleb? he plays ball. you know who also plays ball? lebron james. anyways so for context a tiktok trend popularized this app called bronify where guys literally make parodies of songs but they're glazing lebron. it is honestly insanely funny and a bunch of these covers are crazy good

basketball related tiktoks pt. 2 — remember the luka doncic trade that had all the men of america freaked out and they were explaining to their girlfriends why it was nefarious? yeah so that event canonically happens with caleb and you and he sees a tiktok about it and sends it over to you with the caption "us"

lame corny pickup lines — a friend of mine actually sent this to me and i cringed out but it was funny in a really corny way and i think that's just peak caleb. big strong man being a loser.. sighs dreamily

cute dog vids — bonus points if it's a bernese mountain dog!! caleb quite literally reminds you of a dog and you let him know that, so logically: you like him = you associate him with dogs = if he sends you dog vids you'll be reminded of him. ez math!! also because they're cute and they make you happy so that makes him happy

silly comedy sketches — for this one specifically, he sends it to you and captions it "me when i cook something new for you :P". yeah. he's confident in his cooking skills but also the idea of you hating a dish he prepared? awful. externalizing that concern through a funny tiktok

couple tiktoks — this is what caleb sends the most often!! there's a trend that you two haven't done yet? he's begging you to do it with him. the romantic ones where kisses are involved or you two have to match outfits are his favorites of all time.. oh my loverboy

these are the ones i have links for!! other than that, he probably enjoys listening in to the reddit aita videos he hears from your phone when he's cooking!! there's also a lot of lego/model building and probably some "i love my girlfriend" adjacent tiktoks..

HE'S A LOSER!!! HE'S SUCH A LAME CORNY LOVESICK LOSERRRR OH MY BABY.......

[imvec]

Changed my username from ImaginedError -> imvec . Same person.

Turning this into a pinned post

(link) (link)

— > more info

Tags I Use (linked below)

Fanart: (#imerr fanart)

Other art (#imerr regart)

All art : (#my art)

Rambling on art-related topics: (#tutorial adjacent)

Doodle and WIP collections: (#doodleroundup)

—

External Links

Linktree

Bluesky: still not sure what I’m doing with it, but it exists (has some doodles that aren’t posted here).

Cara: more of my personal work is there. (no fanart) https://cara.app/imarr

Other Bluesky : https://bsky.app/profile/imarr.bsky.social extra not sure what I’m doing with it yet but it’s going to be my bird&plant paintings

I’m sort of on discord; DM me for it

Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/imvec . You can get higher resolution versions of some of my paintings for a few bucks (for personal use — lmk if there’s one you want that isn’t up there). Or tip me for fun.

—

Art Use:

I don’t currently do commissions. I have before, and may in the future.

I’m open to collaborations (both with other artists and with writers)

If you repost my work, please send me a link + credit me

No commercial use

[nanamiskentos]

✦ rules / masterlist — curtins.tumblr.com 2024 -

SHIBUYA INCIDENT — gate open

𔘓 ᮫ please read these rules .

mdni! i will block accounts that do not have their age in bio/pinned

basic dni. will block any homophobic, racist, zionist or bigot-centric blogs.

inbox is always open but please be kind ✉️

currently this blog is jjk-centric but i may write for other fandoms from time to time !

i write a mix of both sfw and nsfw works ! but for underage characters, i will not age them up and will only write sfw.

this blog sometimes writes dark content in terms of injuries, character death, angst.

my fics are usually with afab!reader but if it's sfw, i will try to make it as gn! as possible. please request if you want a specific gn! work 🤍

i will also reblog content about the musicians i like, as well as various tv shows and films.

if you want to be mutuals, feel free to send an ask <3

𔘓 ᮫ here's my masterlist of tags . all my fics. can also be found under the #works tag!

— recs ! (recommendations for fics. i like)

— daphhelp ! (tutorials)

— answered ! (asks)

— mp3 ! (songs i like)

— daphtags ! (posts i've been tagged in)

— jujutsu kaisen ! (jjk-adjacent posts)

— aes ! (posts i like)

SHIBUYA INCIDENT — gate closed

© curtins / tumblr

[emeraldbloodcrown]

ONCE MORE

Chapter: One - Not Easy Pairing: Poly; Tattoo Artists!141 x Baker!Female Reader Summary: Deciding to get a head start in cleaning up the bakery, you end up hitting up the hardware store and meet a handsome stranger, willing to help you out. Content/Warning: Word Count: 2.6

Days passed, with both of you crashing in your old room, switching between who got to take the too old bed and who had to make due with a mattress on the floor. All of your essentials were strewn around your old desk or were still in your backpacks while the rest of your belongings had taken temporary residency in a storage facility.

In the meantime, you had been able to call a cleaning company and get them to sweep through the shop, taking all of the items that had fallen victim to the fire and documenting the damage for insurance. The safety assessment had already happened before your grandmother had written you, so today would be the first day, you’d be able to work towards the renovation.

You were sitting on the mattress, waiting for Anna to finish in the adjacent bathroom, while scrolling on your phone. You heard her return before you saw her as every step she took was accompanied by a small sound of discomfort.

“How can that bed be more uncomfortable than the damn floor?”

Without looking up, you answered her. “Cause it wasn’t chosen for comfort but for the design.” For emphasis, you clapped twice, making the LED butterflies around the frame light up.

“Never would’ve expected a 16-year old you to be so cheesy.”

“Don’t be jealous”

Anna stretched, letting out a satisfied groan when her spine cracked back into place, and she plopped down next to you.

“So what’s on the agenda?”

“Well we have someone coming to see if our electricity is intact, as well as check our plumbing, which wasn’t necessarily hit but since we have to renovate most everything, why not that too?”

Anna hummed.

“Grandma told me that the hardware store has some sort of sale today, so we should check that out and maybe get as much of what we’re gonna need as we can get.”

“Alright, you wanna do that? I can stay and be with the workers.”

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

Making a small detour to get yourself a quick breakfast on the way, after having to swear to your grandmother for the umpteenth time to only visit the family shops and ’not any of the fast-paced run of the mill stores that seemed to pop up everywhere’, you drove to the hardware store.

You still remembered it, having already existed for a long time before you were born but what had once been a small company with only a handful of employees, most of them related to each other, had expanded into a three story tall store.

When your grandmother had told you about needing your help with restoring her shop, you had anticipated that, until it got to the point of baking and selling, you’d be very out of your depth. Building had always been your grandfather’s thing, not something you held a lot of interest in, not that you would’ve been allowed to indulge in it if you had.

A part of you still recalled the look he had given you when you had needed a chisel for a school project and, not knowing the name for it, had just called it the ‘thing for wood stabbing’. An accurate description, you found, but he had not been amused.

So it wasn’t like you thought you would just wing it, but seeing the sheer size, and therefore implied variety in options, made you wonder if your original assessment of doing it yourself with the help of some friends and intense tutorials on YouTube wouldn’t just turn out to be very wishful thinking.

Still you decided to park your car and after minutes of circling the parking lot, you found a free spot quite a bit away out of the entrance. The sale had brought out more customers, you were sure, but you wondered just how well this shop was doing.

Grabbing a cart, you were still staring at the massive store, not watching where you were going and were suddenly taken out of your daydreaming when you stumbled into someone.

Losing your balance, you arm shot out to grab the pillar next to you to save you the landing on concrete, when at the same time the person grabbed your other arm, steadying you. Bitterly a part of you noticed, how he was completely unfazed by you bumping into him. He could’ve at least swayed a little out of politeness.

Apology and thanks already at the tip of your tongue, it remained exactly there when you took a look at the stranger.

At first glance, all you could think about was how handsome he looked, not quite sure if his rugged features was adding to that or if nothing could distract from and ruin his appearance.

He was wearing boots with dark jeans, both having seen better days, as they showed clear signs of wear and tear, as well as several paint blotches, with the jeans also having been haphazardly patched up.

Hoodie and coat were in the same condition, and you wondered if this was his usual attire for working.

Finally making it up to his face, you noticed his long hair, which peaked out underneath the beanie on top of his head, almost reaching his shoulders and curling around his neck. It seemed less of a fashion choice and more like he had just chosen to let his hair grow wild, which was only proven by the state of his beard. Full and long but also very unkempt.

Where you could see skin, he seemed to have strong feature, sharp jaw line only partially hidden but coming full force around his cheeks and brow. He looked wild, edging on dangerous but any fear his features might have caused were forgotten when you looked into his.

Blue.

Stunning and deep, and so very kind. There were little stress lines around them, accompanied by the darkness and bags underneath.

All in all, he looked rough, the kind you’d be polite to but keep a safe distance to. He looked like he had been dealt some shitty cards by life lately but despite it all, you couldn’t help but stare and think how beautiful those eyes of his were.

“Luv?”

And apparently he had also been blessed with an unfairly attractive voice.

In your daze, you only managed to reply with a dumbfounded: “Huh?”

Embarrassment flooded your system as soon as the words had left your mouth, pressing your lips into a thin line, before you tried to save some grace.

“Sorry, what was that?”

His hand on your arm tightened for a moment, only until he was sure you could keep your balance on your own, and then he let you go. You might not have noticed it, if it hadn’t been for you missing his warmth immediately, and the utter confusion at yourself that followed.

Alright. You made a mental note to check Tinder for any local hookups, if you were that touch starved that a stranger could cause such a reaction you were in more of a need for a good fuck than you had assumed.

“Was jus’ askin’ if you were alright. Didn’t get hurt?”

“I bumped into you. Should probably ask you that instead.”

The corners of his mouth lifted, making the lines around his eyes crinkle, giving his eyes a softer edge now.

“Takes a lot more than a pretty bird to send me tumblin’.”

You know it was meant to be a good-hearted joke, nothing serious but you still flushed a little and even he seemed taken aback by his words.

He cleared his throat, “So not hurt, right?”

Noticing the sudden awkwardness, you chose to simply hum in agreement and give him a little wave when you parted ways.

Except you didn’t, because as it turned out, you weren’t just heading to the same store but remaining on the same floor and even going to the same aisle. He looked over his shoulders, probably to make sure you weren’t some weird stalker but when he did, your eyes weren’t even on him.

Instead you looked up at the daunting and overwhelming variations of floor coatings, with more than half of them looking nearly indistinguishable to your very uninitiated eyes.

You looked and felt out of your depth and helpless, trying to figure out what the differences were, when your stranger took pity on you.

“First time?”

You heaved a sigh, “That obvious, huh?”

“‘fraid so. You want some help?”

You took a look at him but didn’t answer yet. Even in his kindness, he looked tired and you had a feeling that he would appreciate you rejecting his polite offer, but the chances of you faring without him were so thin, and with so many customers coming in for the sale, you doubted an employee would have enough time for you, so you couldn’t bring yourself to say no.

“My grandma will have my head for this but I fear I’m gonna need it.”

He smiled again and you found yourself thinking that you wouldn’t mind seeing it more often and making a mental note to try it for however long he was gonna help you.

“No beheading today. It’s no bother. What do you need?”

He closed the distance between you and you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. Pulling up the shopping list you had made beforehand, you turned your phone for him to see. His finger quickly scrolling over the display to see the length of the list before leading you to the first stop.

“I’m John, by the way.”

John turned out to be a saint, patiently explaining to you what each option he presented to you for each item on your list was for and what you needed to look out for when installing it.

“Pretty big project for a beginner.”

“Not by choice. My grandpa was the handyman in our family but I can’t really ask him, and actually calling in a service has always left me with outrageous bills. ‘Course I didn’t think I could just wing it, but last I was here this shop was much smaller.”

He hummed, taking one more glance at your phone before showing you another selection to choose from.

“Lived here before?”

“Yeah, grew up here for the most part actually.”

“Glad to be back?”

“For the most part, I guess. Not too sure just yet.”

John finished by putting the final piece into your cart, giving you a polite smile.

“Well, good luck to you.”

He turned on his heel but you stopped him as just letting him leave wasn’t sitting right by you.

“I know you said, it’s no bother but let me make it up to you.”

There was a moment where you looked at each other, both of you with crossed arms over your chest, trying to gauge who would give into the other first but John must’ve seen something in your eyes because he huffed a little before answering you.

“Alright, luv. Just give me a ring and I’m all yours.” He pulled a small notepad from one of his many coat pockets and quickly scribbled his number on it before handing it to you.

After he left you, you finally allowed you to smile at the weird encounter. That definitely hadn’t been on your schedule but you couldn’t find it in yourself to mind. Taking your cart, you pushed it towards check-out, bracing yourself for the next hurdle: actually paying for the many things in it.

There had been an easiness in John’s limbs as he got out of the shop, his lips almost humming as he got into the car and he caught himself tapping along the steering wheel but the closer he got to his destination, he felt the weight return, as if his bone marrow had turned into cement, dragging him down with every movement.

For a moment, he remained in his car after he parked, listening to the sounds around him and hoping against his better judgement to hear the familiar tunes, smell that scent of her baking, but of course there was nothing.

So he got out, grabbed his purchases and walked into his house. A house that was now solely his, despite the fact that it had been built for a family, for an ours. For her, by him.

The house was musty, needed to be aired and properly cleaned. John knew that if she could see the state it was in, she would throw a fit, tear him a new one for ever letting it come to this.

‘You gotta take care of our home’, she’d say, usually with a whisk in her hand, more often than not making her cinnamon apple buns, the very thing she brought him after their first date when he’d told he hated sweets and she’d told him, he’d love hers.

(She had been right.)

But that was just the thing. For her, their home had been their garden, the reading nook he’d built, the many pictures of their lives and all of the other finer things she had insisted on. For him, she had been his home, and with her gone, he couldn’t find it in him to care, partially hoping that the mess would call out to her and bring her back, even if he couldn’t.

Instead he had taken to disappearing in his work shed for hours on end, working on smaller and bigger projects, anything to take his mind of things. The only break of that routine was the daily phone call from Kate.

He answered her questions more on autopilot, but she hadn’t called him out for it yet so he counted his peaceful days for as long as he could, until she would inevitably drag him back to work to relieve Simon from doing his own and John’s job.

Almost, as if on cue, his phone rang, showing Kate’s number and he answered. He had the practiced replies ready for her but she finally asked him about what he had been doing, the words froze on the tip of his tongue, melted into liquid and got swallowed with saliva, as he surprised both Kate and himself by what he actually told he.

“I met someone today.”

“So what’s the verdict?”

Anna had come outside of the shop as soon as she saw your car pull up and had helped you with bringing your purchases inside. Afterwards, you had both grabbed a quick dinner, settling down on the ground while discussing your plans for the next step, also giving you a chance to check in with the results of her day.

“Well, thankfully it’s not really a must/red light situation and more a might as well/yellow situation. Both teams said that our electricity and water is working fine but that it’s gonna need some work soon, and since we’re already doing everything else, we might wanna look into that too.”

“That can’t be cheap…”

“Nope, but we should definitely be safe for at least a month or two. I mean, we did account for a lot of repairs.”

Taking a bite, you pointed at one of the papers next to her, the bright colors a stark contrast to the white of the service bills.

“What’s that?”

Following the direction of your finger, she pulled it out and showed it to you.

It was a flyer advertising an autumn festival, promising lots of foods, a show and some dancing.

“Didn’t take you for the type to go to these.”

Anna scoffed and shook her head.

“I’m not. But lots of the town’s people will probably be there.”

“And?” You prompted her to continue, not quite getting her point.

“And, your grandmother made such a fuss about community, not just from what you told me about her but also from all the times she reminded us to go to family shops instead of any of the new coffee shops or fast food restaurant. Would be a good way to get to know the people, maybe we’ll meet someone who can help us.”

[nephalem-in-disguise]

making yourself feel divine: a short guide

i shall update this list as i find/am suggested more things. not all of these will work for everybody, this list is just here in hopes of helping.

-------------------------------------

gods/deities/adjacent

throw a party where everybody brings food. these are their offerings to you.

do some form of fortune or future telling for others or yourself.

wear clothing typical of your pantheon, or themed around what you rule over.

angels

if you're a guardian, think about who you protect.

gold, white, and pastels in your makeup and clothing.

learn to dance something elegant.

demons

wear fake fangs in your daily life. (just don't bite through them like i did.)

have meat around. i personally prefer bacon jerky and prosciutto. simulates flesh, if you're that sort of demon.

if you've got a tail, make one. there's several ways to go about this, but i recommend fursuit makers' tutorials. there's also the more expensive option of those electronic ones that move.

all divinekin

wear accessories related to your correspondences

if you get phantom wings, do things such as going to trampoline parks or, if you're brave, skydiving.

if you so desire, spend some time researching ways to expand your vocabulary and speak more eloquently.

meditate. any sort you'd like.

observe humans. people watching could be rewarding.

candles.

or maybe just ignore all of this. do what you enjoy doing, what makes you feel divine in your own unique way. not all angels are soft, not all demons are evil. not all deities want to be worshipped. no matter what you are, do what you need to be happy.

[creatingblackcharacters]

re: Warhammer anon. I'm into mini painting (although I'm more into fantasy minis used in dnd and adjacent games), and inclusivity is a big issue I've encountered when looking for new models to print.

The vast majority of prints are clearly fitted for white people with european features, and majority of paint jobs (and tutorials as well!) only cover painting lighter skintones. Most of already rare POC models are either Chinese/Japanese, or most orientalist depiction of Western Asia possible.

I can count on one hand all miniatures with Black people I've ever seen.

I'm less familiar with Warhammer specifically, but from quick search, the inclusivity is also non-existent here.

I don't think I'm qualified to give proper advice, but I would love to see representation of POC (and especially Black) people in miniature painting scene. At least because it doesn't exist.

Well in that case! You can follow doll painters! Obviously they're not gonna have the same models, but the tips on how to obtain darker skin and types of hair and such will help you there! There has to be at least ONE Black fan of DnD that does or is into model modification. You might just have to do some digging!

But yeah, part of that issue of representation is "is it safe/inclusive to BE in this space". We have to talk about that from within; if your space is not inclusive of Black people, of course they're not going to be there! Even this reddit I found that discusses Black models (which could also have some resources; I saw some links); there was another thread in it that was getting down voted specifically because it mentioned the desire to even have Black models 😭 so if that's my first impression, I'm sure it isn't that great.

Part of breaking into that is being willing to start, like I said. Even if you just say "hey, I want to see more Black fans enjoying this media and more representation in it; here's my attempt at this", you might make someone change their mind, or even a Black fan might see it and feel like it's worth staying around.

You got to be willing to deal with the hardship that comes with though; being openly inclusive of Black people- and saying out loud what that means- often puts a dent in your creative career, which is why so many creatives dodge it altogether. And based off that little I saw, they might not be so nice.

But if that's what you want to do, if you want to make that change... You just gotta do it! Know what it is you want to do, know how to make that change respectfully, and start. I'm excited for you, actually. I wish I had more advice.