#because i've spent all my time on commissions

[writingquestionsanswered]

Too Ashamed of Writing to Write

Anonymous asked: I've spent ten years thinking of stories, ideas, characters, magic systems, concepts, all that jazz, but when I actually have to write it down, I feel this overwhelming sense of shame and disgust. Just looking at what I write makes me feel bad. If I posted my writing in forums for serious writers, it'd immediately get torn to shreds. It's a constant downer and it dissuades me from wanting to write more. Is there advice for nervous nellies like me to overcome this fear that's a little sweeter than "grit your teeth and bear it?"

[Ask edited for length]

First, this is normal. A lot of writers struggle with it. The reason why, I think, is our society puts so much emphasis on finished products, we've collectively forgotten the reality behind what it takes to get to that finished product. We've forgotten that things take practice and time and polishing, and that to make good art, you first have to make bad art. If you can't learn to sit with your bad art, you'll never get good enough to make good art.

So, yes, unfortunately... though it may have a bitter taste, "grit your teeth and bear it" is the usual advice because it's true advice. If you can't grit your teeth and wade through the bad art to get to the good art, you'll never get to the good art.

Here are some things that might help. First, watch this:

Some links to previous posts:

Comparing Self to Others, Insecure About Writing Building Confidence in Your Writing Concentrate on Quantity at First, Not Quality Guide: Dealing with Self-Doubt & Impostor Syndrome

You will get there, I promise! ♥

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I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[dilatorywriting]

Monster Mayhem: Siren's Song

Gender Neutral Reader x Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 6.1k

Summary: What do you call a deaf pirate? Not 'Siren Food' apparently, which is really sort of hilarious when you've been kidnapped by a hungry Siren. Not for the Siren though—he's definitely not having a good time.

A/N: *rushes in at the 11th hour* Happy Mer-May!! I've been back and forth with clinical rotations and also working on some commission things and Leona's Part 4, but like, it's a fanfiction holiday. I couldn't miss out. And for one of my favorite tropes nonetheless. So here we are.

[PART 1] [PART 1.5] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4]

There was a legend that floated throughout the Sage Island Seas of the Pirate With No Ears. Which was ridiculous—half because such a tall tale managing to survive so long and so wildly really showed just how pathetic the rest of the gossip around here was, and half because you still had ears. They just didn’t work very well was all.

Some said you’d been deafened by a prowling sea sorcerer who had tricked you into trading away your once keen sense for some mortal foible or other. Others whispered about how you’d been trapped in an ice cavern, surrounded by electric eels and sharks, and that the only way you’d been able to weasel your way out was by cutting off your own ears so that you’d have enough wiggle room to escape from your bindings. Which made absolutely zero sense at all.

In reality, all you’d done was stand far too close to a canon for far too long when you were far, far too little, and ever since all you could hear was the dull ringing of post-battle silence. Sometimes it was a bit sad. When the waves crashed against the shore, or when the gulls flew overhead—you were sure all those things sounded very lovely. You remembered music and laughter and sometimes they echoed in your head at a distance—a memory not quite forgotten but certainly fading at the edges. But other times, like now, where your fellow crewmates were bawling into their ales and wailing about lord knew what… well, it was always nice to find a silver lining in these sorts of things.

One of the tipsy lads tottering around the deck of The Rose Queen tripped and landed against the wood with something that looked like it’d be a very loud smack. Your brain helpfully filled the silence with some nonsense noises and park-play-style laughter instead. You watched Cater stumble by out of the corner of your eye. He patted your head and said something that twisted his mouth into a gaping ‘uuuuu-eeeee-oooo’ before he puttered away to leech off First Mate Clover instead. Ace threw a drunken arm around your shoulder and burbled something against your cheek that popped with the scent of stale booze, and you decided to pretend that you were as alone at sea as your muted senses would like to think.

The party raged on long into the evening and you stared down at the rabble contentedly from your perch in the crow’s nest. They were a good bunch—dullards though they may be. You’d heard (hardee har har) that they were planning to raid the Port o'Bliss, and something must have gone terribly right. You only really hung around to scrub barnacles off the paneling and keep an eye on the tides well enough that Deuce wouldn’t run the lot of you ashore, so you weren’t really sure how the whole ‘pirating’ business actually went about. But clearly they were doing a pretty good job of it.

You rested your chin on your crossed arms and sighed into the salty breeze. The night was warm and pleasant, and before you knew it, you were nodding off against the rough fabric of your sleeves. You weren’t quite sure how long you spent dozing there tangled in the ropes of mast, but it was long enough that by the time you snorted back awake the festive lights had dimmed to embers and most of the crew had sidled away below deck to either keep drinking themselves blind or collapse in a pool of their own colorful vomit.

There was a lone figure swerving towards the bow—precariously close to the railing for someone so clearly unsteady on their own legs, if you did say so yourself. You squinted suspiciously at his mused lavender hair, not entirely sure you recognized the head bobbing around below you. But perhaps The Rose Queen had picked up some fresh recruits at the Port, or maybe the crew had gotten a bit too booze happy with some dye. Purple Hair leaned up against the rails and tipped forward on his toes like he was thinking about diving in, or maybe barfing. Either or, you sighed and shimmied your way down to stop him from tumbling into a watery grave.

“Oi!” you called, the shout vibrating up and out of your throat, and the kid jumped half a foot in the air. “What do you think you’re doing? Get away from there. Riddle’ll have your head if we have to send out the rescue rafts this late at—”

The kid turned to face you with wide, wide, glowing eyes. Your own went round as dinner plates as you watched his too-dark pupils pulse like drumbeat. They were so bright, practically illuminating the whole of his delicate face, but there was no light to them. Matte and sleek like a shark’s eyes.

He shouted something at you so whip fast that you couldn’t even begin to make sense of, and then he was glancing nervously back and forth between the roiling waves at his back and the encroaching deckhand at his front—making all sorts of nonsense gestures that had you sighing behind gritted teeth.

“Look,” you said, interrupting whatever indiscernible gibberish he was spouting, “I don’t know who you think you are. But you’ve picked the wrong ship to try and—I don’t know—seize? Pirate? You can’t pirate a pirate ship! But either way, you—”

Then the kid opened his mouth like he was screaming, and you frowned again. There was strange prickle along your arms that had goosebumps crawling up your skin and the hair raising at the back of your neck, but you shook it off and moved forward with another weary sigh. You pulled a length of rope from the belt slung around your hips and held the limp bundle of salt-soaked mesh up like a threat.

“I will throw you overboard. And hogtie you first,” you promised cheerily. “So you actually sink.”

Purple Hair just looked like he was trying to scream louder, and you were sourly tempted to stick your fucking tongue out at him and make petulant ‘nyeh nyeh nice try’ noises at him, but then there was a heaviness behind you. A creak in the wood that you could feel if not hear. You rolled out of habit—tumbling across the deck just in time to avoid a nasty swipe along your back. And oh no. The thing crawling up over the railing was worse than any lavender would-be ship thief. The black tipped claws and flared fins were telling enough, but the sharp-toothed grin was somehow more so. It tilted its unnaturally lovely head at you and spoke politely—clearly and very, painfully, slowly.

“What’s—this—perhaps—” you were able to vaguely make out. Maybe. The dark and your panic were both a terrible hindrance to putting shapes to sound. His lips curled into something wicked before parting far more smoothly than the younger man’s had. Singing. It was singing, not screaming. Hauntingly green eyes glowed bright and you felt the tunk tunk tunk beneath your feet of the rest of the crew starting to move around beneath you. Around you.

Then there were more of them—crawling up over the railings, trilling into the night air. All far too lovely and far too sharp to be anything but predators. The moonlight illuminated their fangs and scales in a ghostly white glow. There were shivers running along your spine, but otherwise nothing but silence echoed through your head. Small mercies. You watched several of your fellow crewmates rush out of the cabins only to double over with their hands clasped over their ears. Others stuttered and tumbled forward towards the railings as if they were being dragged along like puppets on a string. You cursed and ducked between them—looping your rope around their legs as you went and tugging them to their knees like a line of falling dominoes.

You let your hapless comrades collapse to the deck and curled the last throws of rope around your fists. You were decent enough with a knife when it came to dueling an unmoving, completely unaware foe—like a barnacle or some rusted over door hinges. But real people? Sirens?Fucking literal blade-tipped-merfolk straight out of every sailor’s nightmare? No thank you. So the teeny blade stayed sheathed at your hip and you dove into the fray to find something rope-wrangle-able.

At the other end of the bow, you watched Purple Boy straighten from a crouch. There were new, silvery blue scales crawling up his neck and forearms. He was still tottering around on legs that he clearly wasn’t all too used to, and you watched as the little guppy started to make a furious beeline for Captain Rosehearts. Which—no. Absolutely not. You were never one of those pirates who was like ‘oh, Captain, my Captain~’ but Riddle was good. He was tough, and taciturn, and could throw a tantrum that could bring down an entire harbor. But he’d written out all of his ridiculous six hundred rules by hand so that you could have them. And the teeny furrow in his brow as he staunchly taught himself hand sign after hand sign so that he could yell at you in earnest was so endearing that you’d protect that little firecracker for as long as you breathed.

So you went after Lavender Head, and then of course Lavender Head turned and tried to shout at you all over again. When that continued to not work at all, the Siren began to backpedal in earnest. He turned his head and squawked at whoever was around to listen, but in the chaos of the attack there didn’t seem to be many of his pod free to lend him a hand.

You descended on the little snake, rope at the ready and perfectly happy to make sushi out of the fucker, when something big overshadowed the both of you. Another Siren crested over the side of the ship, larger and clearly more impressive than the rest of its kin. Which matched your stupidly terrible luck just fine. Ah, yes, Mister Big Bad. Please. Go for the deckhand rather than the literal trained mercenaries less than ten feet away. Brilliant. The Siren bared its fangs like some great, terrible, beast and tore into the paneling with its curved claws as it attempted to drag you down to your watery grave. You cursed, and kicked, and yelped in a panic when the thing managed to get one of those cold, pale hands around your ankle.

Despite the fact that all of it surely happened in less than a few seconds, your descent seemed to progress in steps. First, the Siren tugged you over the side. Second, you smartly flipped the loops of your rope up to try and lasso yourself a handhold. Thirdly, you outright missed the ship and instead tangled the spools of thin rope all around your Murderer To Be. Said Murderer’s eyes widened in shock as your unintentional trap wrapped the both of you up like a mess of bugs in a spider web. And finally, the pair of you crashed towards the churning ocean in a knotted-up heap and slowly sank beneath the waves.

.

.

You rubbed the grit and salt from your eyes and sat up with a groan. Where were you? Not too far out at sea, hopefully. Washing up ashore had been nothing short of a miracle, and you weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth if it meant you got to avoid becoming chum for another day. The sand beneath your fingers was soft and white, and it slipped beneath your palm like water. You moved to push yourself to your feet and froze—a blur of amethyst swiping out and knocking you back onto your ass with a splash.

You spluttered and spat, and had just barely managed to flip yourself over like a turtle who’d been upended on its back when you caught sight of the absolute last creature in the world that you’d ever wanted to see again.

The big Siren had washed up nearby.

Because of course it had.

The creature narrowed his eyes at you and immediately set about lashing his rope-twisted tail against the sand like a rattlesnake. He bared his pointed teeth in a hiss and you were dowsed in a barrage of saltwater ammunition.

“Stop! Stop!” you begged, spitting out wayward chunks of seaweed, and shells, and gods knew what else. “I get it! I won’t come near you, jeesh! I wasn’t planning on it to begin with!”

The Siren curled his lips unpleasantly, putting that wonderful row of dagger-like pearly whites on display. He spat something completely indiscernible—the line of his mouth so harsh and flat that you couldn’t have even begun to pick up the shape of things if you tried—and you scooted as far back as you could without toppling yourself over again.

He dug his clawed hands into the sand and said something else, just as clipped and tight. You assumed it was an accusation. You were very used to recognizing the glare that accompanied those. When you didn’t respond, his brow tugged down low and he snapped something else—this time jabbing those pointed, black, nails in your direction. Ah, so definitely a complaint then.

You cocked your head at him out of habit and that griping turned into a snarl so ferocious that you could feel it racing up your skin like static. Which was definitely pretty trippy.

“I don’t know what you’re saying,” you told him honestly. Which just made the spiked fins flatten all along the side of his head and another wave of those zippy sneers dance up your arms. “Literally,” you tried. “I—”

The Siren opened his mouth and that sparky static from earlier amplified into something near painful. It was strong, and prickly, and left the imprints of invisible shackles all along your already aching joints. You could feel his voice carrying on the breeze—brushing against your cheeks and playing with hair. Thin, icy, fingers digging their way into your brain and yanking. But there was something missing from all that ethereal hypnotism. Something pleasant and sweet to complete the circle of temptation. A voice, you’d guess. There had to be a call after all, or else it hardly mattered how deep and all encompassing the need was to answer.  

When you didn’t immediately, like, fall to your knees in subjugation or drown yourself in the inch and a half of tepid water pooling at your hips, the Siren’s eyes dimmed with something that almost looked like hesitance. His brow pinched tight and he parted his red lips wider. A seagull dropped from the sky. Three different crabs crawled out of the sand to bow down.

“I can’t hear you!” you tried again, loud enough to have your teeth aching. His mouth went wider, and an entire ass tuna beached itself to flop pathetically near your ankles. “It’s not a challenge!” you wailed. “My ears literally, actually, do not work, you fucking overgrown anchovy!”

The static disappeared all at once, and the Siren’s lips slipped into a small, surprised sort of ‘o.’ He blinked his too-long lashes at you and stared you down like you were some sort of escaped alchemical experiment.

“There,” you huffed. “Finally.” And then went quiet and a bit concerned. Because apparent Song Immunity or otherwise, the thing was still hugely impressive and scary looking. His claws definitely wouldn’t have any problem picking the leftover bits of you out of his teeth, and you knew well enough that if he dragged you into the depths with that powerful tail of his, there would be no resurfacing.

The Siren too was using this time to glare at you like you were somehow a threat to be taken seriously. Which was half flattering, half pretty funny.

“Well…” you said after a long moment. “I should get going, I suppose.”

You made your way to your feet in the mucky sandbar and started heading off to see where you’d been stranded. You could feel the Siren’s heavy gaze on you the whole while, and decided he was probably trying to figure out if you’d taste better paired with seaweed or a nice jellyfish spread.

.

.

The pair of you had been stranded on a small, crescent, islet that couldn’t even rightly call itself an island. You were able to walk from its curling east to west coasts in just under fifteen minutes, and that was at a meandering pace where you stopped to peer into all kinds of little grottos and rocky formations. There was some vegetation at the heart of it—short palm trees and tufts of grassy knolls—and thankfully a few deep divots that had collected some still rainwater, but otherwise it was entirely boring and stupid. Not even any weird tortoises or anything meandering about to make friends with.

By the time you circled back around to your original stranding point, you had fully expected the Siren to have flipped you the metaphorical bird and fucked off back into the ocean, never to be seen again. Instead, he was still stretched out in the shallows of the bay, carefully fanning his long tail out in the seafoam and picking through the mess of it with his pointy claws.

He reminded you of a beta fish—with wide, flowing, fins that looked far more like silk than skin or scales. The tips were a deep, plum purple that gently faded from near black to violet and finally a vivid sort of lilac at their junction. The bulk of his tail looked like it could be made from literal gemstones with the way it shimmered in the morning light (gems that had perhaps been a bit dinged and/or literally torn out in chunks from where he may or may not have been smashed into the rocky shore curtesy of your terrible hogtie, but who’s to say).

There were jagged cuts lining the right half of his pale torso. They oozed a strange sort of silver ichor that was probably some kind of mystical merman blood, but you absolutely refused to get close enough to try and find out. The fins framing his pelvis were tangled and thin looking, and the sweeping ones that trailed all the way down to the tip of his tail were battered and torn. Clearly pulled to bits by your handy, dandy lasso skills. Which… was still tied up at the base of them. Huh. You’d assumed he’d be able to slice through all that knotwork without issue. But maybe…

You approached the Siren cautiously. You caught the exact moment he must have realized you’d returned because the fins along the sides of his head flattened like the ears on a pissy cat and he turned on you with a very dramatic snarl that probably sounded all sorts of menacing.

“Hello,” you greeted, and the merman spat something that you assumed was probably a very polite ‘fuck right off.’

You nodded because, well, fair enough. And then pointed to his injured fins and the waterlogged ropes still twisted up around the heart of them.

“I can get that off if you promise not to eat me.”

He shouted something no doubt very indignant and then was back to hissing at you. Which definitely didn’t sound like an agreement not to immediately murder you on the spot.

“Alright,” you shrugged. “Your loss, I suppose.”

Well, your loss, really. Keeping a wounded Siren around was just asking for trouble. Their pods were viciously protective for one thing, and that wasn’t even taking into account the poachers and rivals who’d be more than keen to come sniffing after the fresh trail of blood in the water. Maybe you could find a big stick or something and just, I don’t know, push him back into the ocean and be done with it.

The thought must have shown on your face, because suddenly he was smacking his tail against the sandbar and spitting something that you very much assumed was a demand along the lines of ‘you are going to take accountability for this.’

Which absolutely no way in Hell. He’d kidnapped you sort of, so that made you his problem, thank you very much.

You felt your stomach gurgle, and it must have been pretty loud going off the stink eye he sent your way. You turned your nose up at him and went about collecting the various critters that had been washed ashore in his tenor’s tantrum.

“Thanks for the food!” you chirped petulantly as you worked on scaling the tuna with the knife from your belt—making long, pointed, eye contact as you did so.

The Siren sneered at you and went back to grooming the shredded ends of his fins.

The rest of the afternoon became a sort of pissing contest between the two of you to see who could earn the title of Bitchiest Beach Bitch. You thought you were definitely winning with the whole ‘eating something that could have been his long-lost cousin’ thing, but then he went and swamped the entirety of the small fire you built (and all of said ‘cousin’ being cooked over it) with one sweep of his tail, so now you were at the very least tied. You set up a nice little shaded hutch out of driftwood and ferns to escape the sun, he called down seagulls to shit all over it and pick it to pieces. He tried to roll around to reach some of the tighter fibers tangled in his pectoral fins, and you chucked rocks at him until he reared on you with a scream that had all the hairs on your arms standing on end. Y’know. Perfectly mature things like that.

That night you curled up beside a tall, jagged rock just at the outskirt of the bay—determined to get some shut eye but to also keep within range of your newest pest in case he decided to try and pull something sneaky. But every time you’d just about settled in to sleep, the shallow tide would lap against your toes in harsh shush shush shushes that had you furrowing you brow until you finally had enough and sat up to see what all the hubbub was about.

The Siren was tossing around in the shallows like a fish in a net—throwing his long body against the bindings and flailing like his life depended on it. And as much as he’d definitely deserved to get caught up in your unintentional hogtie, watching something as large and no doubt powerful as he was wriggling around like a worm on a hook was… Well. Something soured a bit in your gut as you watched him give one, final, great buck against his bindings before collapsing back into the shallows in a circle of seafoam. He panted against the surface of the water, the tips of his pale hair dripping down in a curtain around his haggard face, and you could see a fine tremor running along his shoulder blades.

You turned back to your rock and ground the heels of your palms into your eyes, fighting the absolute batshit insane urge to feel bad for a monster who had literally tried to drag you to your death less than twenty-four hours ago.

The water was calm and still for the rest of the night.

.

.

The next morning, you picked up a few of the crabs who had crawled up to shore and went about getting them clean and fit for eating. You glanced at the Siren, who was busy preening over his janky fins and fussing over his hair. It was entirely unfair that you probably looked like a half-drowned rat, and yet this creature that wasn’t even meant to exist on the surface was somehow managing to put himself together well enough to rival the courtesans you’d seen meandering around some of the wealthier coastal towns.

You stared at the crabs. There were three of them. It wasn’t really sharing if it was meant to be a bribe to keep him from eating you whole. Or at least, that’s what you reassured yourself as you cautiously tiptoed back to the water’s edge.

The Siren swiveled on you with a snap of something that looked sort of like a ‘What?!’ and you held up one of the gutted crabs in offering.

“I don’t know if you all eat fish or whatever, but…” You waved the limp crab awkwardly.

The Siren rolled its purple eyes and said something fast and sharp that you couldn’t really parse. Something, something, not, something, something, are crust—Something, something, are you that stupid? (you recognized the impressions of those words well enough to mouth them even in your sleep).

“Look, do you want it or not?” you interrupted, and he bristled—all those delicate, violet, fins flaring up like a porcupine’s spikes.

The Siren crossed his arms stiffly and pointedly turned in the other direction with a mutter of something you had no hopes of catching.

“Whatever,” you snapped and went to bite into your meal. Only to immediately forget that these pointy little fuckers still had their shells on them. You reeled back with a yelp as you stabbed a million, tiny, carapace-shaped holes in your tongue.

The fucking Siren had the gall to turn back around so that you could see him laughing at you.

.

.

That night he was back to flipping around in the shallows like a miniature hurricane.

You counted out the waves sloshing against your heels, telling yourself you’d intervene in his self-destructive tsunami once it hit one hundred. And then it became two, then three. You shifted hesitantly to peek over the rock’s edge and watched him curl into himself like some terribly wounded creature before shaking himself out of the fog of pain that had clearly settling over his nerves, and then continued with his nonsense.

You hurled a big, pink seashell at his head and he whipped on you like a rabid dog, practically foaming at the mouth and raring for a fight. When he lunged forward with the waves—seething with hatred, and blame, and nearly crashing onto his already shredded front in the process, something angry in your snapped.

“Look, fish face! You were the one who attacked me! You!” you demanded, stomping perhaps a bit closer than would be rational. “So stop acting like I’m some scheming shithead who was planning to trap you like this from the start!”

The Siren roared something back and slapped his tail in the surf. Static zipped along your cheeks and you grit your teeth. He glared at you bitterly and then began to repeat one word over and over—slow and angry.

‘Eeeeehhh-Pppe-llllll’ said his lips. Strong and harsh with the shape of it.

And then he was back to spewing all kinds of rapid-fire vitriol that you wouldn’t have bothered to keep track of even if you could. Something in his expression shifted almost quicker than you could notice and he lifted his massive tail out of the water. He smacked the fins in your direction and pointedly jabbed a clawed finger at the creases of them—where delicate, silky, tendrils met strong, gem toned, muscle. Where the purple was light and clean. A pale, shiny, lavender. Almost just like—

“That kid?” you frowned. “You attacked me because of Purple Head?!”

He sneered again and pointedly sent a splash of seawater into your face.

“You—” you grit your teeth. “He was still attacking us first! He was going after my friend!” you snapped, kicking your own wave back. For all the good it would do. “You don’t get to act all noble and protective, and like any of that makes any difference when you all were going to eat us!”

The Siren’s face twisted up like you’d force fed him soured milk, and he looped back around with a dramatic fwoosh of water to dive into the shallows. It was maybe two or three feet deep at best, and he was barely submerged. Not to mention how utterly ridiculous it looked to see a creature that was no doubt usually the peak of grace and athleticism reduced to flopping belly first into the waves with his proverbial legs tied up behind him. But you recognized a door slamming in your face when you saw it, no matter the species. Fine. Let him be a petty bastard. He could rot away in the sandbar for all you cared.

.

.

The next day you woke up with goosebumps crawling up and down your limbs.

There were all sorts of gulls crash-landed in the sand around you and more sad, little, sea creatures gasping on the beach than you dared to count. You shoved a particularly chubby octopus back into a tidepool as you passed and wondered just what sort of nonsense your co-strandee was getting up to now.

The Siren was circling the bay with his head held high above the low waves—lips parted and clearly caterwauling like a dying porpoise. The surface of the water trembled with whatever was making its way out of his mouth, and he looped and looped around the shores. It reminded you of the time you’d seen a whale calf separated from its pod. It had gotten trapped in a shallow inlet when the tides had changed, and your ship had been anchored just off the same coast. You’d watched it circle and circle, lifting its heavy snout to snort sharp jets of water into the air. Deuce had passed you a scribbled note when you’d asked him what it sounded like.

‘It’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard.’

There was a moment where the Siren paused in his paces and tilted his head. The fins there flared out to the side, like he was listening for something. But after a long moment the spines drooped back against his damp hair and he went back to his singing an aria to no one.

‘It’s looking for its family,‘ Riddle had signed to you when you’d asked him why the calf didn’t simply leave once the tides had turned in its favor. ‘This is where they last saw it, so this is where it will stay.’

“Maybe they forgot about him already,” you mused petulantly, turning back towards the center of the islet to try and scavenge up something to eat from all the poor creatures who had collapsed beneath your nemesis’s wailing.  

The bitter thought wasn’t nearly as satisfying as it ought to be.

.

.

That night, the waters were still.

You squinted suspiciously at the merman curled in the shallows of the bay. He’d pulled himself half-out of the water, resting his more human looking bulk in the soft sand as gentle waves lapped at his tail. He slept on his front with his arms crossed beneath his pointed chin—his unbound fins sticking up behind him in a way that deliriously reminded you of bedhead. You watched him carefully for nearly an hour, searching for any tightness in his muscles or change in his breathing that might indicate he was faking it. But as the evening stretched on and he never lurched awake to try and gauge your eyes out, you assumed he might actually be properly resting.

He'd been swimming in circles all day—the aborted, stuttering, beats of his bound tail looking painful even by your non-tail-having standards. Eventually the tremors along the ocean had grown stuttered and strange, like perhaps his voice was giving out on him. And once that had happened, he’d curled up exactly where he was now. And hadn’t moved since.

You stared at the Siren hesitantly. He was certainly in enough of a state that you could probably pull off that whole ‘shoving him into the depths with a stick’ thing. He’d probably just let you do it—sink to the bottom in a mess of shredded fins and tangled twine and never rise again.

You gnawed at your lip, feeling something unpleasantly hot and sticky twist up your stomach.

The knife glinted between your fingers and you thought of crying whales and of the crew that you already missed so much that it felt like a gnawing chasm had opened in your chest.

You huffed out a miserable sigh and lamented for not the first time in your life that you really were just so fucking stupid sometimes. And then you were cautiously making your way down towards the waterline and the sleeping Siren sprawled out in the sand. Slowly—so very, very slowly—you tiptoed towards the mer and tried to get a quick glance at what amounted to the worst of the damage.

The rope had been thin and long, and the more he’d struggled, the more he’d dug the twine into his fins. You reached forward at half speed and slipped the blade into one of the too-tight creases beneath the bindings. You winced a bit in sympathy at the raw, pink skin beneath. No wonder he hadn’t been able to just rip the fibers away. He’d probably just ended up tugging them over and over against the oozing wounds beneath.

The first strand broke beneath your fingers with something that almost felt like a pop. Like seams ripping on a shirt. You glanced quickly at the sleeping Siren to confirm he was still lost to the world and not gearing up to bite your fingers off at the knuckle, and then continued making your way through the worst of it. It reminded you a bit of the time Ace had accidentally snared a sea turtle in one of his fishing nets and the lot of you had spent the better part of an hour slowly working the thing free of the seemingly endless tangles. You delicately worked the tightest edges away from the harsh indentations they’d left against his scales and peeled back the muckier bits with enough gentleness to avoid mangling anymore of his already battered fins.

The last of the rope finally came away with a satisfying, wet weight and you let it fall to the sand beside you with a pleased nod. Now you could let Mister Merman swim away in the morning with no unpleasantly gross sense of moral obligation weighing down your consciousness. Maybe he’d even be thankful enough to look at you with something other than a venomous glare for once. Certainly nothing like the one leveled at you right now. And—

Oh.

You didn’t even have time to properly gasp before you were being flipped and pinned into the wet sand. The Siren loomed over you, digging his black claws into your shoulder until you could feel the first pricks of blood breaking the surface. He snarled in your face, the curtain of his pale blonde hair shadowing his eyes in something so dark it was nearly black. The brilliant purple cast off his glowing irises were like little spots of stars in an otherwise empty night sky.

He leaned forward, teeth bared, and then some sort of tight expression flickered over his face. He paused, brow tugging together steep and angry. He hunched down once more, fangs at the ready, and then ducked back out. He shook his head, like he was trying to clear fog from his brain, and then he was snapping his canines at you all over again.

The Siren reared back with a booming snarl that sent ripples through the soft tide lapping at your ankles. He turned with one, final, icy glower and dove back into the shallows, disappearing beneath the surface in a flash of amethyst scales. He flicked his tail sharply as he went, and one of the tattered fins snapped against your nose with enough of a crack to make you yelp.

You sat up in disbelief, rubbing at your aching skin and watching in outright consternation as the great predator of the oceans swam tight laps beneath the warm waters of your little lagoon—fins occasionally cresting over the surface to smack pointed fistfuls of water into your gaping face.

Deliriously, one of The Rose Queen’s hundreds of nonsensical rules bounced about your head. Happy to fill the otherwise entirely empty space behind your eyes.

‘Never save a Sea Serpent on a Sunday,’ Riddle had demanded, hands at his hips. ‘No Serpents, or Sea Horses, or Sirens to speak of.’

‘Man,’ you thought wildly, brain high on adrenaline and static as you watched one of the aforementioned Sirens swan about like he hadn’t probably just been a half second away from gnawing on your literal bones. ‘If I get out of this alive, Captain’s definitely gonna collar me this time.’

.

.

.

[TAG LIST]

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[imnotyetfound]

My take on Five/Lila - and why they were endgame

I’ve seen so many people say that Five and Lila didn’t make any sense, and I just disagree. I've tried to really motivate why, and also why I see them as endgame. Feel free to agree or disagree.

First of all, Five and Lila share a common background of being raised plus trained as survivors and weapons. Five was molded by his time in the apocalypse, the Commission and his ruthless upbringing within the Hargreeves family, while Lila was similarly trained and manipulated by the Handler. Both of them were forced into brutal, high-stakes environments from a young age, developing a sense of independence, ruthlessness, and survival instincts that the rest of the family can’t fully relate to. We see this especially in Five and Lila’s difficulties in showing emotional vulnerability and trusting others. This shared experience means they both understand the cost of their traumatic upbringings and can relate to each other’s emotional scars in ways others just won’t be able to. So already by this, they’re somewhat bonded from the start.

In other similarities both Five and Lila possess extraordinary intelligence and tactical thinking. They challenge each other in a way no one else does. This has been an ongoing thing between them, bouncing off each other and sometimes teaming up. It’s also what drew them to work on another mission together in S4, there has always been some kind of pull/push there. Personality-wise both Five and Lila have a dark sense of humor and a cynical outlook on the world. But despite the cynicism, they still manage to eventually relax and find humor in each other’s company. The lighter moments we’ve seen between them at times have been an interesting contrast to their otherwise serious and violent lifestyles. 

I do believe their shared backgrounds and personalities created a bond that was then further strengthened during the years they spent lost in the subway together. Isolated from the rest of the world, they literally only had each other for company. The intimacy and trust that grew between them was inevitable. When you have no one else to rely on, you’re going to develop a relationship stronger than under normal circumstances. So over those years, they must have grown close in ways that no one else could fully understand. Even though we didn't get to see every detail of how it unfolded (because the season was way too short), it’s not difficult to imagine.

I’d also say they naturally grew a bond stronger than with any other character at that time, except for the one between mother and child which is why Lila’s need to be with her children would always make her go home if given the chance. Five knew this and it’s the reason he kept the solution from her for months. 

Now, to my thoughts about their actions in regards to Diego as this is often brought up. The argument that Lila cheated on her husband with Five is understandable from a moral perspective, if we see it as just that without any context. But when you consider the circumstances it is way more nuanced. You have to look at not only the environment they found themselves in, but also the emotional and psychological journey they went through together. Their relationship was ultimately forged over a shared background and then several years of isolation. Then you add to the fact that Diego seems to have treated Lila like crap in the years leading up to the isolation, she said it herself he was always moping around and complaining while she sacrificed her life to stay at home and take care of the kids. She even told him she needed a break to reassess their relationship. I do believe her and Five had somewhat already begun an emotional affair before the isolation, the way they were sneaking off together and clearly wanted to keep their thing separate from Diego and the others. Yet they still didn’t get physical until they settled down, believing they weren’t gonna find a way back.

Also, it’s important to here consider the strength of the bond, as I mentioned earlier, that Five and Lila must have developed over those years. They knew each other better than anyone else by the end. Spending every day together in a survival situation with nothing else around would likely create an unparalleled level of intimacy and emotional closeness. This bond would probably transcend Lila’s previous relationship with Diego, and maybe even Five’s bond with his siblings. It’s been years since he returned to them and they had all grown in separate directions. Lila and Five however had recently experienced something life-changing together, and it is unfair to dismiss the strength of their connection as something unethical or out of character when their reality had shifted so drastically from when the show started.

Another important point here is how the relationship with Lila allowed Five to finally be "human" and emotionally open in a way he hadn’t allowed himself to be before. Five was obviously emotionally detached as a result of both his past trauma and the burden of being a hyper-intelligent man in the body of a boy. With Lila, he had the chance to just feel love and trust without worrying about anything else. So I do think this outweighs his “betrayal” against his brother as people claim.

Now on to how and why Five and Lila were endgame. I’m convinced that Lila did love Five despite her choice to leave their isolation. To me this was cemented as she didn’t deny her feelings when Diego asked her straight out. If she wanted to make Diego feel better she could have easily denied her feelings for Five to reassure him. Yet even when asked twice she couldn’t do it. There was also Lila’s look of relief when Five returned to them at the end. It was Five who Lila allowed to comfort her after she said goodbye to her family, trusting him in her most vulnerable moment instead of blipping back to Diego and the others. These events showed the deep trust and emotional intimacy that still existed between them after returning to “the real world”. Despite her saying it was over. I also want to add here that Lila took Five’s hand as they were dying, the look between them was for me at least silently saying they loved each other. 

So all in all I do believe that the connection and love between Five and Lila was authentic. It also made sense. They’re able to understand each other’s emotional complexities, including their darker tendencies, without needing to change who they are. Still their time together seemed to actually have softened them both when they finally had the chance to settle down, almost as if they were healing from past trauma together. This would forge a relationship that no one else could replicate without going through the same experience. Making Five and Lila a reasonable endgame, which they also were in my eyes considering they died holding hands.

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

Summary:  Five and Lila's shared background of trauma, matched intelligence, and similar personalities means they make sense. They shared a bond that was only further strengthened during their years of isolation. For 7 years they only had each other to rely on. This inevitably created an intimacy and relationship that couldn’t be compared to what they had had with anyone else. Outweighing what they did to Diego when you consider all context. Lila and Five ended up being human and vulnerable with each other on a level they hadn’t been with anyone else. Ultimately Lila’s refusal to deny her feelings for Five, her relief when he returned, him comforting her as she sent her family away and then finally them dying hand-in-hand, showed that they were endgame.

[panther-os]

@amikoroyaiart did this awesome commission of my OC Lennie and my version of Ghost! I've wanted to commission her since I first came across her art over a year ago but it took me a while to save and just ahhhhhhh so worth it

Fun fact! The pants are uniform accurate. 141 is an international task force, and while Ghost and many of the rest of the team are SAS and wear black or navy fatigues, Lennie is an tArm (Irish Army) and wears that specific camo pattern! Their neon pink hair is definitely out of regulation, but no one dares call them on it.

Lennie is nonbinary and their full name and rank is Lieutenant Lennie Lynch. They're from Carrick-on-Shannon in Leitrim County of Ireland, and they're the 141's Chief Logistics & Supply Officer. Anything from toilet paper to ammo to fresh fruit to video games, it all goes through them. They have a ton of smuggler contacts in order to get supplies out to remote areas, and they use this network for information as well.

Basically Laswell's job, but more focused on keeping people alive via food and bandages and etc than keeping people alive via intel on the enemy.

Price met Lennie at the same time he met Nikolai. It was a joint an tArm and SAS operation where the two squads wound up trapped in a snowstorm with dwindling supplies, including much-needed medical supplies. Lennie asked for an hour with the sat phone, spent that time making threats and promises and calling in favors, and then Nikolai (the only pilot good enough and crazy enough) dropped off the supplies not too much later, which is how he and Price met. Then, a few years later, Price pulled Lennie for the Taskforce knowing their skills would be needed.

Lennie drinks far too many cups of coffee a day, barely sleeps, and spends the majority of their time in their dark office staring at computer screens. Their first date with Ghost was a joint nap on their office couch. Their best frenemy is @atohii 's OC Niko, the Chief Medical Officer, friend because they've made him weep tears of gratitude over the supplies he needs to keep everyone healthy, enemy because they've cut him off from energy drinks (the hypocrite) and gotten the entire rest of the base involved in it.

It's best assumed that Lennie knows everything and could be anywhere. They walk very quietly and often surprise people by slurping their coffee from right behind them. If they were an animal, they'd be a wild hare - the kind that surely speaks a thousand tongues and knows exactly how you die.

Ghost is still with Soap, and Soap is also with Niko, and sometimes Ghost and Niko are together as well, but romantically, Lennie's just with Ghost. We love a poly141.

This Ghost is based on TikTok cosplayer Kuromi (his account is tagged MDNI, please respect that) and Irish actor Fra Fee (because Les Mis is an old SpIn and my Ghost is Irish, his ggparents immigrated to Manchester during the Great Hunger). I don't have any specific scar or tattoo headcanons for Ghost, but I like Amiko's usual spread so I asked her to just use those, and I'm thrilled with how it came out!

And just ahhhhhhh I'm still screaming over Lennie 😍

[just-some-user-hunny]

Comforting Pino after a long day...

~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~

This is a commission of sorts I've been working on a while, coming back to it now and then, as my college work has been very demanding as of late so I haven't been able to dedicate much time on it 🥲

(The premise is that he gets back to the hotel very early in the morning, hoping to just remove his legion arm and climb into bed with you, but he doesn't find you in your room so he's all :( until he finds you leaving the kitchen with a cup of milk and honey because you can't sleep, and he just hugs you. He tries to explain, but he just can't get the words out and gets a bit frustrated with himself so you Just give lots of soft reassurance and comfort as you help remove his legion arm to get fixed in the morning, setting it Eugenie's workbench to be looked at, and you just pull him into your bed and stroke his hair and speak to him till he feels better. I may have wandered off track a little, but I hope you enjoy it!)

~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~~⚜️~

~As the veil of twilight fell upon the derelict streets of Krat, Pino found himself at wits ends. No matter how persistent Gemini was with his encouraging crickets and chirps, his mood refused to shift. At this point it was as sodden and groggy as the cobblestone streets were. With every fleeting encounter of clashing blades and flying sparks, he only found himself growing more and more irate.

His legion arm was practically immobile at this point, the fleeting moments of rest in-between fights were spent rolling his shoulder- and all Pino could do was lightly grimace as his shoulder popped and creaked.

Broken.

With such a bitter way to end the evening, Pino could only clench his jaw and straighten his posture.

~ "we better get that fixed up real quick, huh pal?". Gemini chirped from the confinement of his lantern, at which Pino only held his breath back and huffed softly. His expression fed-up and sullen, and continued his way onwards all the while ignoring Geminis cautious little whines of 'you annoyed at me Pino?'

~ the warm glow of the hotel illuminated in the darkened sky was a welcoming sight, a beacon of light and safety, and it eases pino's clenched fists a little. The lit lamps flickered with warmth, contrast to the cold glimmering starlight amongst the heavens, and pino's footsteps quickened in pace as he hurried to the hotel entrance. Eager to feel the embrace of warmth- and most importantly, the sight of you waiting patiently for him.

~ shouldering the heavy door open, he peers around the golden entrance hall- crimson and amber filling the room, whilst the stargazer glimmered with a cold blue light- Sophia poised solemnly, seemingly in deep thought.

Pino wastes no time searching the room for you, glass jeweled eyes peering around, before his brows knit a little  in confusion.

You weren't there...

~ as if he has brought the rain in with him, his face falls once again. With his brow fallen and his eyes glassy and blank, he sets himself on the task of finding you- the desire to be within your presence burning within him wildly to the point it was the only thing driving him forward. At this point, it burnt brighter than the ergo within him.

~ the door to your bedroom was closed, and your room was absent from your heartbeat and your breath and your voice... Pino stood dumbly at the door, a little voice that wasn't Geminis whispering poisonous words in his head.

They're gone. They've left. They don't need you. They've found a human to be with. What did you expect?

~ "Pino?"

~ the swiftness of his head turning caught you off guard a little, almost making you drop the steaming porcelain cup of warm milk that you've been cradling in hot palms ever since you left the kitchen. The sound of your voice felt like he had just been pulled out of the deep end- his saviour.

Your puppet companion stood tall in the lavish hallway- out of place, like a ghostly phantom. Drenched like a wet cat in oil and rain, there was something not quite right with him... The way he carried himself right now. Usually he is tall and confident and sure in all his silent will of steel- but now he seems like a weeping willow. Befallen, drooping. It was not him at all.

~ "hey- are you alright Pino?"

Like a sirens call, he follows.

~ the way he walks alarms you. He looks... hurt. Eager, but hurt.

At first- he seems to stumble, a misguided step that practically has him slumped against you, and it takes every strained muscle in your body to not allow his weight to take you down with him. With your arms clumsily steadying him by his waist, his head falls into your shoulder- an idle hand palming the curve of your side before his face comes out of its retreat from the warm crook of your neck, the chill of his nose pressing against your cheek barely registering in your head.

~ he looks so tired- which was startling. Surely puppets didn't get tired, right? Although Pino was a unique puppet, so who was to say...

~ "oh no..." you gasp softly, peering agastly at pino's arm- which appeared in rather poor shape.

His expression stills at your concern- before he rolls his shoulder, which only creaks and startles you more by the irate jagged sounds it makes.

With a knit in his brow, his lips part as if to speak- but nothing more than a silent breath passes by his porcelain lips, and it only seems to deepen the knot in his expression.

~ after ushering him into your room, you begin to lightly inspect his arm with your touch, your fingertips run up the grooves of his wrist up to his forearm, where a rather large gash was torn into it. Like a broken doll limb, and you force yourself to leave your warm milk and honey to be forgotten on your chest of drawers.

With a few words of assurance, you help him take it off, and you're so careful with him whilst doing so he can't help but admire you as you do so, the tension in his body unwinding from your gentle touches.

Pino is still drenched in rain and oil, his pale porcelain skin splotched dark and glossy stains, and you could feel that there was smear of it on your cheek where he had nuzzled against you earlier.

~ running the bath, you turn to see Pino standing behind you, unmoving- his gaze piqued in interest of the running water and the foaming bubbles.

Seeing him make no move, you do so yourself. Lightly ushering him to you, he follows without question, and he stands perfectly still as you begin to unbutton his shirt and lightly tug it down his shoulders. Only then do you realise that he's staring at you, and you can't help but retreat away a little in embarrassment because you've just hurried to undress him all the while he looked at you so endearingly and devoted. His doe eyes are all droopy and gentle as he gazes at you softly.

~ Pino reaches for you, wanting to gather you close, before realising he's only got one arm to embrace you- so he gently manouvers his remaining one around your shoulders to pull you to his chest. A soft hum leaving him as your arms wrap around his waist, his face resting contently against the crown of your head. His lips brushing over your hairline.

~ his hand lightly prodding your shoulder to get your attention, before he timidly signs you a thank you :(

~ giving him privacy to clean, you throw a spare shirt that he had learnt you earlier for him to wear on the bed. You work diligently to make the room as cosy as possible- snuffing out candles and drawing curtains, the faint glow of the oil lamp on the bedside table illuminating the room just a little. You also peel your now slightly damp and messy clothes off and change into fresh pyjamas, after all you practically got hugged by a sopping wet puppet 😅

~ appearing at the doorway of your en suite is pino, now fresh and clean. Helping him into the shirt, as he struggles a little with only one arm- you gesture invitingly to the bed with a tired smile.

Pino expression speaks enough, his face elating subtly at your words. Expecting him to huddle under the covers, you're startled as he suddenly picks you up with one arm and flops you both onto the bed- his sturdy arm embracing you close to his chest, and his soft smiling face nuzzled soundly into your chest.

~ for the remainder of your night, Pino's lonesome and poisonous thoughts dissolve like seafoam in the warmth of your body against his. His doubts and worries seep away like the blackened bathwater down the drain. Nestled in the embrace of your heartbeat and breath, he falls into a peaceful state of rest. He's not quite sleeping, but he's also not quite conscious... Like a deep state of vulnerability, and he does so willingly because he knows he's safe with you. There is no need to be on guard, nor survey his surroundings, because he's with you right now and you always make everything ok

<3

[jerich0two]

While I'm at it, here's a belated

Intro Post

because I've been more active on Tumblr than I thought I would be (which is always the way!)

Also, a quick "before you ask" section!

You can repost my work on other sites if you want, but ideally please credit me there so people can find my page if they like my work ^^

You can use my fanart for personal stuff! (e.g., profile pics, wallpapers, banners, etc.) Credit is appreciated but not necessary. But please don't try to profit off it or claim you made it yourself.

(I've given my intro post a bit of a revamp now that I've spent some more time on Tumblr!)

Hey! I'm Jeri. I use any pronouns. I'm happiest when you use whatever you like on me, no caveats, no rules, totally up to you. Mix it up or stick to one. Ah, the marvel of choice!

I'm aroace, and I post content relating to both spectrums now and then. My personal experience is no attraction of any kind in either respect, but I try to read about other experiences too ^^

I mostly post fanart on this blog, with the very occasional, once-in-a-blue-moon fanart-adjacent post. I like to experiment with new brushes and techniques each time I draw, so my art doesn't end up looking all that consistent. The primary fandom I make art for is Hazbin Hotel, but I'm also a big fan of Lackadaisy! Along with a scattering of other things that I'll mention if it ever seems prudent.

I don't do commissions at the moment, but I'm considering mayyybe opening them at some point during the summer, once I figure out how I'll take payment! Fanart requests for the fandoms I'm in are A-OK through asks, but no promises I'll get them done.

That seems about it for things worth knowing!

(If I think of anything else that I ought to put here, I'll edit it in.)

(P.S. I don't consider myself a furry, the fox is just my mascot, and, not at all coincidentally, my favourite animal. AND (while I'm sure the concept is as old as time) I was inspired to make the little intro drawing after seeing the one @/nouverx made! Remove the slash if you'd like to check him out, I don't want to bother anyone by tagging them /lh)

[snepril]

I'm a trans woman and I'm otherkin. Both labels describe parts of me, but neither describes all of me. Yet at the same time, they're both closely intertwined, both key parts of my discovery of who I am - and both more alike than one might expect.

I knew I wasn't supposed to be a guy. Even from a young age, I was drawn to feminine things. I wanted to be a girl - I just didn't have the words to say it, didn't understand why I felt the way I did. And as I grew older, that feeling crystalized. I tried to deny it, to pretend it didn't matter. Besides, it was never the conventional picture of dysphoria - I could manage being a guy. It was tolerable. That was enough, right?

But it wasn't what I wanted. I knew I'd be happier as a woman - I knew it with a certainty and clarity I could never put to words. I knew, and the moment I realized there was a path forward, a way to be who I knew I wanted to be, I took it. I transitioned. It cost me a lot - my home, my years spent in college, my friends and stability - and it was all worth it. Having that weight off my chest, getting to live as who I always wanted to be... it made everything else so much easier. It's like a good night's sleep - sure, you can manage without for a while, but it saps your strength, makes everything else so much harder.

But as I transitioned, as I embraced my life as a woman, I realized... I wasn't quite where I wanted to be. I was closer - so much closer - but I wasn't there yet. There were a lot of little things I wanted to change about myself... and one big one.

I wanted to be something other than human.

At first I denied it, pretended it didn't matter. I had done so many things I'd never thought possible - I'd transitioned, I had a good job and was living on my own. I had good friends and the freedom to steer my own life. Wasn't that enough?

And those words were familiar. The feeling was familiar. It didn't take me long to put two and two together. And when, one day, an impulse art commission gave me my first ever picture of myself as a sphinx...

...I knew. I knew that this feeling was the exact same one that drove me to transition. I knew denying it would work about as well as denying that I'm a woman. So I decided not to. I decided to accept who I am.

I'm a woman, and I'm a sphinx. I'm transgender, and I'm otherkin.

Otherkin. Somehow, it's an even more loaded word than transgender. It implies so much, and that made it harder to accept. I don't believe in other realities or reincarnation. I don't believe I was a sphinx in a past life or other world - I'm really not spiritual at all. So how can I call myself a sphinx if, objectively, I know I've got the body of a plain old human?

The same way I knew I was a woman.

I'm not ignorant of my biology. I know what's coded into my DNA and what my body is shaped like. But why should any of that have any say on who I am? I'm more than my body, more than the chance outcome of genetics and evolution. I get to decide who I am - and I choose to be a woman, and I choose to be a sphinx. Why? Because it makes me happy. Because it feels right. Because it's my life to live and I get to live it how I want, so long as that doesn't hurt anyone else. Sure, I can't transition to be a sphinx in real life (not with modern technology, anyway), but when has an inability to transition ever made anyone's identity any less valid? I'll do what I can to make my body more comfortable and live with the rest, because the alternative - pretending what I feel doesn't matter - isn't living.

I'm a transgender woman.

I'm an otherkin sphinx.

And I'm happy.

[moonblastbitch]

Yellow card update

Hi ya'll! So I barely use tumblr nowadays, but considering some stuff going on I thought it would be good to do a quick little come back.

So hi! I'm Kit, I write the griddlehark fic Yellow Card with my friend Starr. It's a very silly fanfiction about age difference Harrow and Gideon having an affair and raising a child together. It's pretty well known in TLT fan spaces which I'm super grateful for! It's not an understatement to call this little fic my pride and joy. I've spent the last two years working on it as my little labor of love and it's kinda grown a cult of followers! Really, it's a fun excuse for me and my friend to work on something we care about together. But lately I haven't felt inclined to work on it and I want to talk about why.

Over the last several months I've had some health stuff going on that's resulted in needing two surgeries. Along with that, I moved into a new place and my gf and I are managing some new financial stress. Plus, you know, the general state of democracy in decay all around the world. It doesn't leave me a lot of time or energy to write silly smut fic. Everyone has been very supportive of me taking the time I need to recover and I'm really grateful.

But... this is where I have to address some not great stuff. Today my friend approached me with a fanfiction making fun of my writing. And several posts from someone making fun of the tropes I use in the writing. Now, I want to make this abundantly clear. Absolutely no one is required to like my writing style or fics. I don't write for praise or wealth, just for my own personal happiness. I think everyone is within their right to complain to their friends if they dislike something they read. What I really can't tolerate however is this intense hostility toward myself or my fellow writers. Nor do I appreciate having an entire fic written mocking me or my stylistic choices.

Back when I first joined the TLT fandom in 2020 it was teeny tiny. Now it's a lot less so. It's been so satisfying to see everyone grow and change over the years, and I think I've grown a lot as a writer. Sadly though, I've seen a lot of stupid bullshit. I've seen personal friends of mine targeted in harassment campaigns because they ship the wrong ship. I've been added to public bookmarks complaining about my writing, I've been subtweeted, I've been made fun of. And I think I'm done.

I write for my own pleasure. I write to bond with my friends. I am not writing for homophobic assholes who use my work to mock me, nor make me or my co-writer the target of harassment. So, as a result, Yellow Card and all my other TLT fics are on an immidate hiatus, with the exception of one upcoming commission for the TLT for Palestine charity.

I spent a long time tonight debating if I should even write this post. It seems like by writing this I'd be giving the people making fun of me more ammo. But honestly? I don't care. My feelings are hurt. I am upset. I shouldn't have to hide that because some bullies will take bits of this statement to use in their next bitchy text post.

I want to reiterate something important. I am open to critque on my work. Anyone who has an issue with my writing style is more than welcome to come into my comments and let me know if something isn't flowing right, if there are unfortunate implications of a line I may not have considered, if there is something they personally find a bit distasteful. Sadly, the people doing this skipped right to mockery and ridicule, and that is unacceptable.

What drew me to this fandom in the first place was Muir's openness to her background in fanworks. She clearly takes such pride knowing her book series has spawned into a wild, happy fandom writing crack silliness and serious character study alike. Because that is what fandom is for. Having fun in a big beautiful sandbox, creating art with friends. And I treasure that deeply, even as I am forced to walk away from a space I love.

TLDR: TLT fandom is full of dicks. And not the kind I write about.

Thank you to everyone whose offered me kindness and support over the years! I truly appreciate you all. If you wanna stay in contact, it's easiest to find me over on twitter @moonblastbitch or discord (same name)

[pacific-rimbaud]

i'm curious how do you feel about dramione community now?

i'm a new writer, long time reader and can't help but feel like the fandom and the ship changed so much and i wonder if i even have a place in it anymore.

there's so much demand for the writers from the readers (constant update demands, no willingness to engage with wips) and at the same time i've been in a couple of dramione writer communities where other writers are openly pressuring each other to either start tiktok or finish the fic before posting it (the new dramione writers society discord server specifically).

particularly upset when i see people advising each other to commission art to promote their fic for writing.

it seems like that space for writers to be just writers becomes smaller and smaller and readers are not interested in the fandom but rather the next hot fic that's getting traction.

and all that combined with the overall hatred toward dramione as a ship outside of dramione.

I've genuinely stopped writing because of this. and i'm sad that i lost that one hobby that made me feel good, as it now seems like a popularity contest more than just fandom fun.

you seem like you're able to balance your love for writing with the changed landscape of the fandom. at least from the outside posts :D

DHr grew exponentially in the short time I spent in the ship, and that growth will only accelerate as big name fandom writers continue to enter traditional publishing with seven-figure book and film deals.

Life is change. Change is death. It's okay to grieve what's gone and won't come back.

And I want to add: keep writing. No matter what. But that would be hypocritical. I haven't written in a year, and remain deeply uncertain about whether or not I'll take it up again. It's a real puzzle.

The relevant questions seem to be: why do I want to write? And: what spaces feel nurturing to me as a writer?

The first one's easy. I write because I like the films I see in my head. I like the way language sounds. I like to experience the past, and to be swept away by intense emotions. It's like having a Holodeck in my head. And sometimes, when everything clicks, I get to describe my little bespoke scenarios in words that make a nice sound when they rub up against one another.

I'm waiting on a good answer to the second question. All I know is that art, criticism and commerce have always been an incredibly awkward ménage à trois. No shade to folks seeking to work the fandom algorithm and secure the bag (posting already completed work on a schedule, writing popular tropes and characterizations, and using original art in social media marketing are all great ways to do that). Whether money changes hands or merely attention (which can be converted into money), that's commerce having its turn at the wheel.

I'm suspicious that my creative brain is commerce-repulsed. Maybe yours is, too. So it goes.

I'm certain that we shouldn't let that keep us off the Holodeck.

So. Make a deal with me. I promise to run some freaky little scenarios in the simulator this summer if you'll do the same. Then let's meet in the limestone cave and paint our blorbos by candlelight. Let's tell them around the campfire. Come draw them with me in the sand.

[caperantagonist]

Disabled, in the red due to prescription costs, please help

Paycheque came and went within a day this month. I had to pay my prescription charges all in one go because they had been billing me in the middle of the month for some reason so they kept bouncing, after it happened a few times and i didnt notice, they sent me a letter saying I have to pay the whole thing or I lose my prescriptions prepayment certificate. So thats £90 gone, I had spent some fun money on myself thinking I had a spare £50 but looks like I was wrong x_ x

I'd normally do commissions to get out of this bind but I've been unable to draw properly for months because my hands go numb immediately holding my tablet pen. My health is at an all time low and I just need to catch a fucking break honestly. I've been housebound for around a year now and I'm fucking miserable. ;- ;

If anyone can help pls use this link

[cottoncandy-cult]

Babysitting

I used a wheel to determine which guys I'd write for~

Intro:

"So…Why do you have a stranger's kid?…" (Y/n)'s lover stared blankly at her; a singular eyebrow quirked as he watched how she cradled a sleeping child to her chest. "One of my friends amongst the seamstresses is having to babysit her nephew because her sister is ill, since I've already finished all my commissions I offered to watch him for her." She giggled, gently brushing her fingers over the child's chubby cheeks. Her lover seemed skeptical about toting a kid around the castle, but because of how much fun she seemed to be having he had been willing to just let it happen.

Shingen

The large male chuckled from where he sat next to (Y/n), sipping his tea as he watched his lover settle the baby in her lap so that he was sitting up with his back against her torso. She was currently entertaining the baby with a puppet his aunt had brought from home for him, she was so focused on the giggling baby that she hadn't noticed Shingen's loving stare. At first, he wasn't sure about having an infant in the castle, but (Y/n) had handled every moment like a champ. Even the infant's cries hadn't been enough to frazzle her, instead she went about soothing him with a smile. The scene was enough to make him think, he had been with (Y/n) for some time now and since they were officially married the next logical step was a family. It wasn't something he had put much thought into previously, but seeing his wife playing with and taking care of this baby was enough to have him confronting himself over his own thoughts and feelings of the future. Shingen didn't come out of these thoughts until (Y/n) moved to sit beside him, the little baby giggling happily as its tiny hand grabbed hold of his sleeve. With a warm smile and large gentle hands, Shingen lifted the baby up to his level. "Not even 3 years old and you're a lady killer, what are you parents gonna do with you?" The baby giggled loudly as Shingen gently bounced him up and down, (Y/n) taking the moment of freedom to snag a skewer of mochi and begin digging into her own snack. "He really is adorable; his parents must have amazing genetics." (Y/n) giggled, watching her husband play with the baby boy was she ate her snack. She couldn't help but focus on her lover's grinning face, she took a good hard look at his features as she did her best to imagine him as a baby. She'd be lying if she claimed to have never thought about having a family with him, many early mornings were spent getting ready together and wondering how things would change when they had a child of their own. She couldn't help but gaze at the love of her life, wondering what he had looked like as a baby. Given how big Shingen was, she was confident he was the chubbiest of babies. A thought that made her cheeks flush as she smiled, the thought of having a chubby baby just made her happy.

Of course, Shingen had similar thoughts, especially when they walked through the Castel town and the children would recognize his goddess. The way they get so excited, wanting nothing more than to play and talk with the woman he loved. Sometimes he found himself daydreaming, wondering when the day would come that he'd be looking up from his desk to find his dear wife nurse the fruit of their labors. He's already worked out a few designs for some baby furniture, wanting to make it himself so he knew it was made right. He and his wife had discussed the baby furniture of the future before, the things she described gave him a lot of inspiration. "He's quite small, I was almost afraid to hold him at first." Shingen chuckled, resting the little boy on his leg and gently bouncing him. The large man couldn't help but chuckle as the little boy squealed happily, tiny hands gripping Shingen's sleeves as he bounced comfortably. "i know, it's been so long since I last babysat. When I first saw him, I was almost surprised he wasn't smaller, I forget sometimes they aren't as small as dolls." She giggled, reaching over to gently brush her hand against the thin layer of hair on the little boy's head affectionately. "Perhaps it's my height, but all babies seem absolutely tiny to me." Shingen chuckled, watching her give the boy some affection as she ate. "Probably, you are bigger than most other grown men so I can only imagine how little he must look to you." She giggled, putting down her skewer as she moved closer to Shingen and leaned into his side. She wrapped her arms around one of his, her head resting on his shoulder as she closed her eyes with a soft smile. Shingen could only chuckle, the little boy leaning back against his chest as he seemed to finally tucker himself out. "Now that's a good idea…" Shingen's low voice rumbled in his chest as he spoke softly, gently shifting the little boy to rest in his arm. "Since you finished your snack, why not come here and join me for a nap. The weather is wonderful." Shingen opened his arm, leaning back against the wall as his dear wife smiled at him and shook her head in mock-shame. "I suppose a nap won't hurt." She moved closer to him, slipping under his arm now and snuggled into him as she rested her head on his chest. Shingen had the boy cradled on his lap, leaning against his torso comfortably. It didn't take long for (Y/n) to sleep, Shingen had stayed awake a bit longer though. He wanted to enjoy the sight of holding his lover like this, looking down on the boy and that was how he KNEW it was about damn time he spoke to his wife about starting their family.

Kanetsugu

Kanetsugu stood speaking before a crowd of other vassals, it was a pretty standard meeting so why were these men staring at the man of the house? Because sat on his hip as he spoke was a 3-year-old girl, she was awake but quite content with the gentle bouncing and the sound of Kanetsugu's voice. His wife had to run into town to buy some stuff, so he had offered to watch the little girl since he had nothing to do after this meeting was over with. The little girl had been absolutely smitten with Kanetsugu, lighting up every time she saw him in a way similar to how his wife seemed to brighten whenever he'd come home at the end of the day. It made Kanetsugu chuckle whenever he saw it, this little girl reminded him of both his wife and his younger siblings. He took great part in raising his siblings, he remembered when they were all little like this and those memories were quite dear to him. At the end of the meeting Kanetsugu made his way to the kitchen, paying no mind to the odd stares he got and the whispers that followed him down the hall. He wanted to get the little girl a snack, so he planned to fix her some peaches since they were soft and easy to eat. On his way there he noticed his lover on her way down the hall. She was coming from the direction of their room, meaning she had dropped off her shopping. The young woman's face lit up; he couldn't help but give a slight smile at how she rushed up to him with her own wide grin. "I take it the meeting is over? Thanks for watching her while I ran into town." (y/n) smiled, reaching out to playfully poke the little girl's side and listen to her giggle. They exchanged the little girl, who had smuggled into (Y/n)'s chest. No doubt the woman was a bit more comfortable to lay on, for obvious reasons. "I was on my way to the kitchen to get her a snack, so it's perfect timing on your part. It'll be easier than cutting a peach one handed." He gently took her hand, since getting married, he had begun doing this any time they were together. She was his wife, something he was proud of and more than willing to display. "Food sounds good, lunch should be coming round soon. So hopefully she'll be done eating before then and we can eat without too much trouble." (Y/n) smiled up at Kanetsugu, the little girl resting on her arm and curled against her chest. She was sucking on her thumb, content with the steady sway of the woman's walk cycle.

"Maybe if we're lucky we can put her down for a nap after her snack, she hasn't had one today yet so it's about that time anyways." Kanetsugu lead his lover to the kitchen, his free hand running through his own hair as he found his gaze wandering away from the sky as he took in the sight of his lover with her friend's baby. It was such a domestic sight, something that made an odd feeling stir in him. He had never actually thought about it in depth, he knew he wanted a family, but he had never put a whole lot of thought into it. But confronted with the glimpse before him, it was like something was stirring awake. He no longer just wanted a family with her, he needed one. The thought of having evidence of their love made his heart speed up, a sort of primal shift growing inside of him at the thought of her having his child. It wasn't just animalistic desire though; his protective instinct was starting to twitch awake. To have a family with his wife, that would truly be his peace. It was like a new goal came into focus; one he couldn't wait to discuss with her later once the little girl had gone home with her mother for the night. So, for now he had to settle for gently squeezing her hand, giving her a fond gaze as he watched her talk about her experience at the market. When her gaze suddenly caught his, he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. Leaving her flustered as he released her hand and stepped through the threshold and into the kitchen. She stood at the doorway, watching him with curiosity as she failed to fight the love-struck smile that crossed her face when watching the man, she loved prepare food for the little girl in their care.

Motonari

Motonari watched his wife with a grumpy pout, on her lap was a 4-year-old that had proven to be the bane of this man's existence. This little boy would not accept anyone but her, and God forbid Motonari be allowed to hug or touch his wife. The boy didn't throw a hissy fit, oh no, worse yet the little boy would hold his palm out to Motonari with a firm but docile "No." With the most expressionless stare Motonari has seen in his life, he hadn't been able to so much as hug his wife with this little boy around. The kid refused to be held by anyone else, he was always giving Motonari such a blank faced stare and it never failed to make the man laugh out of mild frustration. The more he thought about it, the more ridiculous he felt. He was competing with a kid for his wife, and it wasn't even his kid. At the end of the day, this kid goes home with someone else, so there is NO competition. Each time Motonari reminded himself of this, rolling his eyes at the jealous side that was near desperate to hold her hand. Though there was some odd part of him that was satisfied with watching his wife interact with this little boy, even when he was fussy, she was calm as can be when handling him. Plus, there was the pride he took in having a wife so loved by so many people, she was the prize jewel out of all his treasures. Currently the two were waiting for the little boy's aunt, (Y/n)'s friend, to come and pick up the little boy for the night. The sun was an hour or two from setting, and he was doing his best to be patient as he had a staring contest with the little boy. At least until the child reached out to him, making a grabby motion that had (Y/n) lighting up. "Aw, he wants you to hold him!" She was excited, moving closer to Motonari, who for just a moment was panicking, he did not have a plan for this particular option. So he had let his wife lead him into holding the little boy on his lap, the boy sat with his back to Motonari's chest. His little head was leaned back on Motonari's collarbone, he still had one hand holding onto (Y/n)'s finger so she had to sit against Motonari's side. Seizing his chance, he slid his free arm around her waist as his other was draped over the boy's stomach to keep him steady.

"I guess you respecting his boundaries earned his trust, that's so sweet." She smiled brightly, nuzzling Motonari's shoulder in a way that never ceased to make him melt inside. This was a situation he had never imagined in his life, the male having never actually thought about having kids of his own. Sure, he knew kids existed, but he never thought about HIS kids existing. This whole situation felt so surreal, looking down at his lover and this child no longer felt real. All of a sudden it felt dreamlike, as if he was discovering something for the first time. A wide array of emotions overwhelmed him, from a strange anxiety to what could only be described as an intense contentment. He had come a long way from the person he was when he and his wife first met, but even still to have such a large discovery out of nowhere was almost startling. He hadn't felt like this since he first realized he truly loved his wife; it was a feeling that could be described with the word emotion. It was so much at once, and yet he felt calm in an odd way. His face was flaming, silently staring at his lover as he processed everything. Of course she had noticed his stare, she had trying speaking to him, but he never responded and now she was simply flustered by the look he was giving her. It was almost innocent, the flustered look mixed with confusion and surprise. Leaning forward she placed a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose, suddenly bursting the bubble he had previously been absorbed in. It took every ounce of self-control in him not to jump, he had already embarrassed himself enough today. The hand that had been around her waist came up, pulling her close and tucking her head into the crook of his neck as he tried to hide his flustered state. These new realizations had him feeling energized in an odd way, he simply had to have her close right now. He knew the look on his face was probably quite out of character for him, and he was embarrassed to admit how little control he actually had over his current behavior. He wanted to hide his emotional state, and what better way to do that then basking in the affection and the touch of his wife that he had wanted all day. Once the boy was returned, he planned to spend the rest of the day and night with his wife in their room. He wanted only her presence, only her voice and scent. Only her.

Masamune

(Y/n) currently sat at a banquet between her boss Nobunaga and her lover Masamune, across from her was Mitsuhide and Hideyoshi. Meanwhile in her lap was a 1-one-year old little girl, the niece of a friend that was taking care of her sister until the woman's husband got home from work. Because of that (Y/n) had brought the baby to the banquet, it was fairly late, and the baby was full from where (Y/n) had taken the baby home long enough to eat and give the mom a chance to see her. The little girl had been quite content after eating, and so now she was happily babbling away at Keiji while Masamune fed his wife a bit of rice. "I shouldn't be surprised you volunteered for such a task; you always do manage to find the most amusing situations." Mitsuhide chuckled from across the woman, drinking some sake and letting a servant refill it. "She was a little fussy at first, but once she got comfortable with us it got a bit easier. Her aunt should be back to get her soon. She's just waiting for the woman's husband to come home to take care of his wife." Masamune chuckled, sitting close to his lover's side as he'd raise bites for her to take and fed her her meal before he had even touched his. He had spent most the day doing paperwork, which left (Y/n) to bear the brunt of the child's care. He wanted to give her a small break and help out now that he wasn't busy, plus he had been wanting to give her some love all day. She was just too cute, playing with and fawning over the baby girl currently in her arms. Looking at the little girl he could admit she was cute, but he just knew their baby would be even cuter. If he had a little girl that looked just like his wife, he'd be over the moon. In truth he wanted a larger family, something he and his lover had discussed many times. They want quite a few children; they hadn't really been trying for kids as of late but also hadn't been avoiding it either. But today made him feel it was time, seeing the way she cared for the little girl, even when she screamed and cried, had reaffirmed in him that they could do this, and it was about time to take the first steps officially.

Once his wife had finished her food he had set the chopsticks down, using one hand to hold one of her own as the other brought his cup of tea up to his lips so he could take a sip. "It seems so natural; I was worried you'd struggle with her when I first saw you in the halls this morning. But you seem to have everything under control." Hideyoshi smiled, taking a bite of some roasted vegetables while observing the baby girl in his friend's lap. Despite all the noise she almost seemed ready to fall asleep, the group laughing at how her tiny head bobbed before she finally gave up and completely rested across the woman's lap as her haori functioned as a makeshift cover. "I won't lie it was hard to be calm sometimes, but I eventually found a good rhythm for cycling through what she wanted or needed until I could find what I needed. Then it just kinda got easier to tell what she was wanting, plus after visiting her mom to drink her fill she's been quite content and a lot less fussy." (Y/n) giggled, gently rubbing the baby's stomach with her free hand. She watched the baby sleep with a fond gaze, her mind wandering to places that her observant friends could easily predict. For Nobunaga, Mitsuhide, and Hideyoshi; it was the same look Masamune got any time they noticed him watching her interact with the little girl. Oh yes, they knew it was only a matter of time before they had children running about the castle whenever the pair would come to visit from Aoba. "Well, at least you'll have practice for when you and Lord Masamune have a child. It'll be quite the sight to see." Mitsunari spoke openly with a fond smile on his face, and as flustered as it made her, (Y/n) couldn't fight the smile she felt forming on her face. She'd be lying if she said taking care of the little girl made her wonder how things would be when they DID have their own child, she'd love to have a little boy that looked just like her husband. Though she had known for a while she wants more than one child, as aware as she is of what childbirth is like in this era she wouldn't miss the chance to have the family she desires with the man she loves. "You guys will be the first we tell when I fall pregnant, I promise Mitsunari." She giggled some, at least until she felt Masamune's arm wrap around her waist. "It'll be more than that, we'll be staying here during your pregnancy that way I can be sure of your safety. Plus, Ieyasu will be a boon to have on standby." The blonde let out an indignant snort but said nothing back. The fussy blonde being surprisingly quiet about Masamune's desire to have him care for Hime in such a state, and none of the other warlords seemed bothered at the idea of a pregnant woman waddling around the castle. Something that both embarrassed (Y/n) and made her feel overjoyed, as she knew she had everyone's support when it came time for this new step in her life.

Kenshin

Everyone stared intently at the trio during a war council, sitting in his usual place was Kenshin. And as per usual, he was the one making a scene. In his lap sat his wife, odd but not entirely unexpected. And then on her lap was a little boy, a 4-year-old she had volunteered to watch during the day for her friend who was caring for an ill family member. The group had been stuck at the hip since the little boy's arrival, though at first Kenshin had been a little jealous and that had been why he was being more openly affectionate than usual. But it was less than 2 hours before his reasoning shifted, some part of him deeply enjoyed watching his wife happily interact with the child. He had thought about having a family with her for many years, even before they had married. Though he had yet to put his desires into words, he didn't want to pressure her and had originally decided he'd just wait for her to approach him when she was ready. But now, while Kanetsugu went over his report for his recent observation mission, Kenshin wanted nothing more than a way to bring up his desires without pressuring his love. Starting a family was a big deal after all, he didn't want her to force herself into something she isn't ready for just to try and please him. Kenshin was staring off into the distance, his chin resting on the top of his lover's head while the little boy in her lap played with a stuffed animal. His vassals watched, absolutely astonished. Even Shingen was quite intrigued with his friend's behavior, meanwhile Kanetsugu could feel his eye twitching as he figured out long ago his Lord was barely listening, and they'd probably have to talk about this again later. Of course (Y/n) wasn't dumb, she could tell what everyone was thinking, and she did kind of feel bad for Kanetsugu. Before Kanetsugu left for his mission Kenshin had the Fearsome God of war, when he returned however he was Kenshin Lord of the bunnies. Sure, he still went to war, but he had changed in many ways. Kanetsugu could recognize the good, but he often found himself surprised at how (Y/n) brought out a childlike behavior in Kenshin.

Sometimes it made Kanetsugu want to laugh, but when his Lord is just blank face no thought staring at him in the middle of a war council, he wanted to throw something. Not that he actually would. He tried to soothe himself by observing his Lord's situation while he spoke, knowing that at least Shingen, Yukimura and Sasuke were listening. From the outside, you'd almost think they were a family. A thought that did calm the white-haired male's irritation, his Lord seemed so content. Kenshin was always quite happy when he had (Y/n) in his lap, but the addition of the child seemed to bring something out of the male. Kanetsugu didn't miss how his lord had gently pulled his wife closer, the blonde man's hand occasionally coming up to pet the little boy on the head absent mindedly. It only further reassured Kanetsugu's expectation that this is likely going to be the future, he wasn't quite sure how he was gonna handle this, but he was sure it was going to involve late night drinks with a recap of the war council. By the time Kanetsugu had come to this conclusion he had finished his explanation of the survey he had been sent on, and as he stepped back to return to his previous seat Kenshin seemed to realize that everything was over. On the outside Kenshin seemed somewhat normal, but Kanetsugu could see the slight surprise in his lord's features upon realizing he had missed the entire council. "I see, I do have a few questions, but we can discuss those later. Is there anything else that needs to be discussed?" Kenshin gazed around the room, wanting to make sure there wasn't anything left to discuss before he dismissed the meeting. When it was concluded that there was nothing else to talk about, Kenshin released everyone to go back to their daily duties. "It's almost time for lunch Kenshin, did you want to go out to eat? The weather has been nice the past few days." (Y/n) smiled, leaning back so that she rested against his chest. Her head leaned back against his shoulder, and she pressed a kiss to his cheek with a warm smile. After the door had been closed and everyone left, she let the little boy up so that he could explore the room a bit. Where the two adults sat, they could see every corner of the room and could easily monitor him. "Sure, we can make a date of it. The little one won't notice, and we can stop by a tea house for dessert after if you want." Though Kenshin didn't really like sweets, he still enjoyed the tea house atmosphere while he watched her enjoy her desserts. "You know me too well." She giggled, pressing another kiss to his cheek as they spent a few quiet moments in each other's arms. Watching over the little boy in front of them, both having only the thought of discussing family with each other at the end of the night.

[tartigglez]

Hello tunblr user that I have NEVER spoken to before

Can I pretty please request dragon!zhongli doing dragon!Zhongli things

Like hoarding shiny things, and having a tail and hating random plants and squid 😭😭😭😭 idk I’m just hoping that something in this magically inspires your brain BUT feel free to ignore me

(I also really wanted to initiate ur ask box lol)

~ 🌷 anon <3

Why hello there tumblr user who i have also never spoken to! i hope this is uh,,, acceptable.

it was so hard to find a title for this oml

"my natural form...?"

zhongli x gn!reader

genre: fluff, pure unfiltered fluffiness, such fluff, many fluffitude

word count: 500-ish

tags: retail addict zhong bc we love to see it, possessive zhong, zhong hates fish zhong, protective zhong (hes a cutie patootie guys omgomomgomgomgogmogmHDKAJH), venti makes a cameo/reader is a traveller but not tHE traveller bc THEYRE MINORS I REFUSE TO WRITE THAT. thats kinda it

tw/cw: possessive dragon boi, it lowkey seems like lightly toxic behaviour but i think thats it

a/n: i wrote a little smol bit of this every night this week so its maybe a bit disjointed but whatever. this was fun to write ty tulip bb. zhongli is the cutest im so sOFT FOR THIS MAN AAAA. also send me asks, ples, pls, plsssssssss, pls.

dragon!zhongli who will buy pretty things without even realising that he quite literally has a retail addiction. will put things in random places in your house then get really confused when you move them. he keeps closely monitored stock of everything.

“darling, have you seen my golden vase anywhere”

“which golden vase?” 

“the one i purchased last week, at the market”

“i put flowers in it, it’s in the kitchen”

“okay, okay, good”

“you seem awfully worried about it”

“i am not, i simply… wished to know where it was… is all.”

“i see.”

dragon!zhongli who is lowkey possessive over you but refuses to admit it, also he feels that jealousy is not a good shade on him. But he’s a dragon, and you’re his most prized treasure, so it is only natural to him to protect you, right? it can’t be helped. he's got a really good sense of smell, so he can always tell who you’ve been around in the past few hours, but won’t tell you because he's afraid it’ll freak you out. 

(side note: he totally loves your scent and will compliment you on it all the time, like he’ll bury his head in your neck to calm himself down omg)

“my dear, who was with you earlier?”

“the guild had me teleport to mondstadt for a commission, why?”

“nothing my love, i simply- nevermind”

you look him in the eyes doubtfully

“tell.” 

“alright. you were with the anemo archon, yes?”

“i was. i was sent out to windrise to fight some hilichurls, i ran into him and he helped me defeat them, why?” 

“nothing, darling. the hilichurls didn’t hurt you, did they?”

“when has a hilichurl ever hurt me?”

“it is difficult to argue with that logic.”

dragon!zhongli who despite literally creating the harbour, refuses to go near the markets. he cannot stand the smell of the seafood that the merchants sell, so despite trying to “blend in” whilst in his mortal form, he will rarely be sighted outside the innermost parts of the city. 

“li’”

“yes, dear?”

“shall we take a stroll by the harbour? i have a free hour this afternoon and we should spend some time together. i haven’t spent much time with you this week, and i've missed you.”

“i have missed you too, love, however i think that-”

“you think?”

“i think that it is rather cold, down by the harbour. Shall we go to the teahouse instead?”

dragon!zhongli who is unconsciously protective of you in his sleep. he will wrap his tail around your form when cuddling, as a literal natural response. puts it around your waist and between your arms whilst spooning you so you can hug it like a teddy bear whilst he puts little kisses on your shoulders as you doze off. tells you the stories of years gone by as you sleep to vent his worries.

“li’”

“darling?”

“tell a story”

“must i?”

“yes, you must!”

“very well my dear, close your eyes.”

[20dollarlolita]

Hi friends,

it's absolutely okay to use disability aids if they help you, and you are allowed to be the one who decides if they will help you.

I spent Christmas in a non-weight-bearing cast, and a friend of mine suggested I use her backup wheelchair so that I didn't have to use crutches for the whole time. I was initially resistant, but I'm glad I got over it.

It made a huge difference. It allowed me to work my job with minimal accommodation, and allowed me to be independent outside of work. I was able to go out and shop for holiday presents. I could leave my house and not worry about if I was going to get too tired to move. It was better for my body, because I wasn't putting my entire body weight on one hip or leg. It helped me be treatment compliant, because I didn't have the constant temptation to put my foot down and put a bit of weight on it. It allowed me to carry things and shop on my own. I was able to work at my job, make sales, and earn commission. The only work-related things I needed help with was to have us move our office plant (whose name is Randal) and to get help carrying large or heavy boxes. My doctor had approved return-to-work paperwork that said I had to sit down for 75% of my shift, and with a wheelchair, I was easily able to do this without going on disability or medical leave.

Here's a collection of pictures of me, not being stuck on the couch in my house.

And people, both friends and customers, were so very weird about all of this.

A lot of people questioned if it was some kind of overkill, because many people who can't bear weight on one leg will use crutches or a kneeling scooter. Other people commented on how inconvenient is had to be, and how difficult things had to be when I was using a wheelchair.

And I realized that other people saw me, compared their level of ability to what they thought mine was, and decided that using a wheelchair was difficult and inconvenient. What I saw was what my level of ability would be without the wheelchair, and what it was with it. Carrying a drink wasn't doable via wheelchair, crutches, or kneeling scooter, but I'd be unable to carry a drink in the wheelchair and people would see it as a huge inconvenience. (BTW the answer is just to get boba at a place that seals the lids on, carry it in your lap, and punch the straw through once you're at a place where you can set it down. Boba lids are wheelchair-friendly).

I think people see "wheelchair" as the ultimate in disability, but for me it was freedom to take care of myself. People want to save using a wheelchair for when you absolutely cannot function without it, but you deserve to be happy and not just to function.

And the fact is, if people are unable to judge my disability aids by understanding the options to them, and if they're only able to judge my mobility aids by comparing their personal ability to how they'd feel using my mobility aid, then there's no way whatsoever that someone else can judge if I actually need it, or not. But I deserved to be using the thing that gave me the most freedom, impacted my life the least, and was the least damaging on my body.

Anyway, I've spent the morning trying to convince someone I know who broke their leg that using a wheelchair is better than staying at home on the couch. I'm not making a lot of progress with that, so hopefully I can make some progress with my friends on the internet who might be going through something. You deserve to be comfortable and happy, and not just to exist. If you do things that take care of your body, instead of hurting it by refusing to take the help that you need, you'll be able to function better. Wheelchair isn't a bad or dirty thing, and it doesn't have to be a means of last resort. You can use it if it helps you.

[datura-tea]

holy shit this year marks 10 years of this blog and moz!! i can't remember the exact date i started posting here - my archive says i have one post from november 2013 but let's disregard that - but i do remember it was around late 2014/early 2015 :)

^ one of the very first moz art pieces i ever drew, for fallout week 2015!!

memories and art through the years under a read more bc it got long

2014 → baby's first rpg!! i started playing fnv on my cousin's jailbroken xbox late 2013 and finished mid 2014 and i loved every minute of it. i remember waking up at 8am and playing almost nonstop until 2am the next day haha!

i didn't play moz on my first playthrough - but i did start creating a character that would eventually become her: a shorthaired ex-boxer who punched her way through obstacles when diplomacy failed. i remember she spent a lot of time with boone. i liked him then, because he saved my ass more times than i can count. but i digress. this is draft 1 moz essentially

2015 → this is the year that i was doing my thesis so i could graduate but i was so depressed and stressed about it that i distracted myself by replaying fnv on pc, where i played through the dlcs for the first time. i fell in love with the dlcs' oversarching story; particularly ulysses, who i became obssessed with, especially since i couldn't find any content of him at the time. in the game, i played as moz; i had most of her personality and choices down, but her backstory was still up in the air.

fun fact: this was an existing sideblog that i remade to be a fallout blog so i could look for ulysses content, and when i couldn't find any, i made some myself, featuring moz as my main courier six. originally, i didn't ship them, but eventually i ended the year as a courier/ulysses otp shipper.

this was the year i started drawing digitally - my uncle let me borrow a drawing tablet and i used an old copy of photoshop i pirated hehe

2016 → i graduated this year!! and promptly fell deeper into my depression. this was the year that it got so bad that i had to be medicated. through it all, this blog and moz and ulysses and my fandom friends were with me. and for that i am truly grateful :) this was the year i figured out how to lock transparent pixels so that i could color my lineart lol

2017 → i started hammering out moz's backstory this year i think. there's a lot of sketches of her and her family in my files. i experimented with shading and backgrounds here but that experimentation was pretty short-lived

2018 → i started using references seriously!!!! i did a lot of oc on oc kissing this year, featuring mostly moz and many friend ocs haha

2019 → didn't draw much this year. actually this year was a blur and i can't remember much from it except from it being the year of my terrible no good bad copywriting jobs... anyway i did manage to continue my courier/ulysses brainrot and make this piece, which i'm still proud of

2020 → pandemic time. i spent a lot of time asleep at home and i think this was also the year i started doing commissions?? shoutout to anyone who has ever commissioned me - thank you so much, i truly appreciate it!!

2021 → i switched from my old-ass pirated photoshop to clip studio paint and never looked back. also i did a bunch of commissions for my grandmother's surgery, which failed, and i distracted myself from the sadness by drawing my ocs over and over and playing disco elysium

2022 → by this year, i've got moz down pat and have started vaguely developing other ocs instead. but she's still always at the back of my mind

2023 → i bought new brushes from true grit texture supply and immediately found new favorites that i started using for everything. i tentatively started incorporating background elements in some pieces!

2024 → while it's still too early to say where this year will lead me art-wise, i will say that i started experimenting in realistic paint studio (which i bought in 2021, the same time as clip studio paint) a few days ago and i'm liking the results so far. we'll see!

all in all, these last 10 years have been quite a ride, but i'm glad i stuck around and i'm glad you guys stuck around too!! much much love 💖💖💖

[whitelittlebunny]

SLIGHTLY LONG RANT BECAUSE I CURRENTLY HATE EVERYTHING AND BECAUSE I'M STARVING 🥹🥹🥹

Because i finally have the courage to post it bunny needs help 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Hello friends, it me after two years since I last posted (i guess 🤔) but I've been struggling a lot lately. The reason i temporarily quit drawing for my 99+ husbandos is because I'm working part time job day and night and hell i never felt so depressed and stressed, like ahhhh i want to run away especially when I heard my parents that there's almost nothing left in ther wallets and my dad's bank account plus they still have loans (because of my college) 😭😭😭 gosh real world os scaryyyy especially when you have no moneyyyy and i still have a solid 22k pending on my account in the university *cries, punches the ground and kicks Gilbert's ass* i couldn't enroll unless i paid it but my parents didn't have and i couldn't focus on my commissions, too 😭 my measly 300 daily salary is not enough and everything is just so freaking expensive i couldn't even afford my own lunch anymore 🥹🥹🥹🥹 I'm sticking with water, my salary is not enough to cover my daily expenses, my food, and transportation, plus part time hiring jobs ARE FREAKING SCAMMMMMMMM!!! THEY ALMOST GOT ME I'M SO ANGRY!! I thought they're putting me in a cafe to work but its a DAMN NETWORKING and forcing me to PAY 14,000 SOMETHING WHEN I LITERALLY GOT NOTHING. THEY WON'T LET ME OUT OF THE OFFICE UNLESS I SAY YES AND JOIN THEM BUT THANKFULLY I GOT OUT ALIVE (i told them I'm going to ask my parents for money and left, but i never came back 🤣) 😭😭😭😭 my last fare was spent for nothing 🗿*sniffs* and here i am tonight, asking for a little help 🥲 I've never done this before and I'm super duper embarrassed but i have no choice, all of this will go to my tuition fees, my rent (my roommate left and quit 😞 now i only have my cat emma with me) every single dollar will help me and my family. The rest I'm going to give them to my parents while i still continue working and study at the same time 🥹🥹 i didn't add more amount, I'm too embarrassed to do it, its almost 30k and majority will go to my college fees andm rent and cat food, the remaining will go to my parents especially my mom

Here's the link. It's the only fundraising website i found available in our country 🥹 recommended by my fellow struggling artist @rhodolitianarchduchess 🥹. I'm still embarrassed to do this, I've never done this before. Friends, you're all encourage to donate, any amount is fine for me friends. My fellow wives of ikemen guys and besties 🥺🥺❤️ I'm going to list all of your names and show it to my parents that there are still good hearted people out there 🥺

https://gogetfunding.com/please-help-me-for-my-tuition-fee-a-little-help-is-big-enough-for-my-dreams/ 🥹

[aishangotome]

Elbert Greetia: Blind Love Ending Chapter 23

Blind Love Chapter 22

♡———♡

Before we got back to the castle, Alfons got off the carriage, saying he had business with a "friend," and disappeared into the London night, and Roger caught Jude at the castle entrance and went off to drink.

(...I have to go back to my room.)

I thought so, but maybe because I had spent the last few days in the same room as Elbert, I felt lonely.

(Ah... I'm already in front of my room.)

Kate: Well then, Lord Elbert...

I tried to say goodnight, but the words wouldn't come out.

Elbert was also silent, staring at me.

(Elbert...)

We both must be hoping for the same thing in our hearts.

Elbert: ...Saying goodnight to you... used to make me happy,

Elbert: But now... I don't want to hear those words here.

Kate: I... I didn't want to say it now either...

Elbert's hand cupped my cheek as if touching a treasure.

As if to trap me in his deep blue eyes.

Elbert: ...Come to my room, Kate.

Elbert: Sleep in my room. Say goodnight to me... in my bed.

My heart pounded.

I was happy that I no longer had to resist his possessiveness towards me.

Kate: ...Yes... Lord Elbert...

The words that spilled out were so sweetly seductive that I was surprised myself.

-

While waiting for the promised month to pass, I spent my days in my room compiling reports as a Fairytale Keeper, and my nights sleeping next to Elbert in his room, which was now a little less cluttered.

Elbert also seemed busy during the day, doing research, writing letters, and going out with Alfons.

-

One afternoon, a mountain of gift boxes was delivered to the entrance.

Kate: What's this?

(Is it a gift for someone...? It's a huge amount.)

William: Apparently, it's all for you.

Kate: For me...?

William: Here.

The card I received from William certainly had my name on it.

Kate: But I don't know who it could be from...

Liam: What's up, you two...? Whoa, that's a huge amount.

Harrison: It's been a while since I've seen this sight.

Kate: A while...?

Harrison: This kind of thing happened regularly before you came to the castle.

Liam: Back then, it wasn't presents, but jewels, stuffed animals, and suspicious antiques.

(Jewels, stuffed animals, antiques...)

Kate: Could it be... Lord Elbert?

All three of them nodded.

Kate: But... he said he was going to stop collecting beautiful things...

William: Maybe the purpose is different this time?

Liam: These are from a very famous dressmaker. Oh, and these shoes are the new ones I saw at the department store!

Harrison: This necklace kind of resembles the color of your eyes.

William: All the previous collections were addressed to Elbert, but this time they're all addressed to Kate.

Kate: ...All for me.

William: Even without using your powers of observation, it's obvious what the purpose of this collection is.

Alfons: Yawn... Oh my, everyone's here so early in the morning.

Kate: ...! Good morning, Alfons.

Alfons: Ah, I see... they arrived. Those things.

Alfons: I won't forget what happened yesterday...

Harrison: How could you forget what happened yesterday?

Liam: Haha, you're exaggerating.

Alfons: "Do you think this will make Kate smile...?" he asked me over and over again.

Alfons: Elbert was trying to buy everything without waiting for my answer.

Alfons: I desperately held back my laughter, thinking Kate's room would explode.

Harrison: You're laughing now.

Liam: You were definitely enjoying it.

Alfons: The result of that battle is this.

Kate: And this is the result of thinning it out... Thank you.

Alfons: You made me laugh enough to cover my commission, so no need for thanks.

Alfons looked at me and narrowed his eyes.

Alfons: ...For him now, seeing you smile must be the greatest happiness in the world.

Alfons: For that... he'll do anything.

His smile seemed to be mixed with a dark amusement, as if he was hiding some kind of scheme.

Kate: ...What do you mean?

Alfons: You'll understand eventually.

Alfons: Well, I'm going to sleep now. I'm tired from staying up all night.

Without revealing his hidden intentions, Alfons quickly returned to his room.

William: ...So, what are you going to do with this mountain of presents?

("The purpose is different this time...")

(These are all... to make me smile.)

It's not that I want a lot of dresses and shoes, and I don't like luxury.

(But if it's something Elbert put his heart into... I'd be happy with anything.)

(But this much is still a little too much...)

Kate: ...I'll take them all to my room.

Seeing my smile, William narrowed his eyes happily.

William: It looks like it's going to be a very lively room.

-

After all the presents were carried to my room and I thanked the maids who helped me, I knocked on Elbert's door as usual.

Kate: Lord Elbert, can I come in?

Elbert: ...Of course.

Elbert: ...Welcome back.

When I opened the door, Elbert greeted me.

My heart skipped a beat at the words directed at me with a happy smile.

("Welcome back"...)

Kate: ...I'm back.

Kate: It feels like this is my room.

Elbert: ...

Elbert: You can think that if you want.

Kate: ...!

Smiling even more happily, Elbert lightly spread his arms towards me while still sitting in his chair.

Elbert: ...Come here.

As I walked towards him, he suddenly pulled me in and I landed on his lap.

Kate: L-Lord Elbert?

Elbert: ...Don't run away.

His arms wrapped around my waist, trapping me.

Elbert: I wanted to wait until you were done concentrating on your report this afternoon, but...

Elbert: ...I missed you.

He nuzzled my hair against his cheek, and my chest tightened sweetly.

Kate: Even though we were together until this morning...?

Elbert: No matter how much time we spend together... there's never a moment when I don't want you.

I felt a shiver run down my skin as I felt his heavy possessiveness directed at me.

(--Elbert still has nightmares sometimes.)

Even if he let go of atonement, the guilt of being happy probably hasn't disappeared completely.

(But even so... he reaches out for happiness like this...)

(I want to respond with all of me...)

I also nuzzled my cheek against Elbert's soft golden hair.

Elbert's arms trembled, and his embrace tightened.

Kate: I received a lot of presents from you, Lord Elbert.

Elbert: ...!

Elbert: ...I'm sorry.

Elbert looked away slightly, embarrassed.

Kate: Why are you apologizing?

Elbert: Al warned me that you'd be troubled if I got you too much...

Elbert: ...But I ended up buying too much.

(Ah... he does have some self-awareness.)

Elbert: ...Did I trouble you?

His anxious question was so cute that I couldn't help but laugh.

Kate: Hehe... It did surprise me a little.

Kate: But I was much happier with your feelings, Lord Elbert.

Elbert: ...I see. ...That's good.

Kate: But if you send me this much every day, I won't have enough rooms, even if I had several.

Kate: From now on... please do it little by little.

Elbert: ...Little by little?

Kate: Yes, little by little.

Elbert: ...One a day?

Kate: ...Let's make it at least one a month.

Elbert: One... a month...

Elbert nodded, somehow lacking confidence.

Elbert: I'll try...

Elbert: But if it happens again like today... then... you can scold me.

Kate: Me scolding you, Lord Elbert...?

Elbert: Yes.

Kate: Can I do it...?

Elbert: ...Try.

Kate: Huh? Uhh...um...

I furrowed my brow and tried to make a stern face.

Kate: N...No, Lord Elbert.

Kate: Just being by your side is enough happiness for me, so I don't need that many things.

Elbert: .............

Kate: ... Something like that, maybe?

Elbert: ...Hehe, no good. Cute.

Kate: Huh...?

Elbert: Cute...I might do it again on purpose just to be scolded by you.

Kate: N...No, really.

Being called cute, my face heats up.

Lord Elbert happily narrowed his eyes and buried his face in the nape of my neck.

Elbert: When I'm with you...I want more and more things, it's troubling.

Elbert: I want everything that will make you happy.

Elbert: I want to see all the expressions on your face that I haven't seen yet...

Kate: ...You'll see a lot from now on.

Kate: Because I intend to be with you from now on, Lord Elbert.

Elbert: ...........

Elbert laughed, but there was a hint of pain in his expression.

Kate: Lord Elbert...?

Elbert: I truly believed that you didn't belong here, that you shouldn't have come to this place...

Elbert: But now, hearing you say that you'll stay with me in this darkness... it makes me so happy.

Even now, after everything that's happened, I still believe that you, Elbert, are too good for sin.

Kate: As long as I'm by your side, I'm not afraid of any darkness.

Kate: No matter how sinful the sights I encounter in the future...

Kate: I won't regret a thing.

Kate: So, please don't worry about it.

Elbert: ... Mm.

Elbert smiled happily and kissed my lips.

I closed my eyes, intoxicated by the sweet sensation.

Our kiss, never breaking once, deepened gradually., and as my body melted from the inside out, Elbert whispered to me.

Elbert: I... I want to be happy with you.

Elbert: And I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen.

Elbert: I'll make sure that anything that hurts you or makes you sad... disappears from this world.

(Anything....)

I recall Alfons saying something similar.

It didn't seem like he said it simply meaning he wouldn't mind collecting many presents.

--Now, I feel the same uneasiness from Elbert that I felt back then.

Elbert: ... I've decided to return to the mansion once. At that time, I will dismiss the servants.

Kate: Dismiss... You mean, fire them?

Elbert: Yes--

Elbert: You always looked sad in that mansion.

Elbert: That is my mansion. I don't want to keep anything that makes my precious person sad.

Elbert: ... I want to collect and keep only things that make you happy.

(The people in that mansion... especially Jeffrey...)

(They have been eroding Elbert's body and heart for many years.)

The terrifying memories of the auction night come flooding back.

*flashback*

Kate: ... Are you saying someone offered to capture me?

Man of the Company: Yeah, we got a request saying, "We'll pay you a high reward if you sell her off."

Man of the Company: --From the head butler of the Count Greetia's household.

*flashback over*

(...I didn't tell Elbert that it was Jeffrey who requested my kidnapping from the company.)

Immediately after being rescued, I was caught up in a situation where I couldn't tell him, and it remains unsaid.

(But, if we can dismiss Jeffrey and cut ties with him like this...)

(I feel it's okay if he doesn't know.)

(If I told him, Elbert would surely blame himself for involving Jeffrey and me, and be hurt...)

Elbert: --I also know that Jeffrey had you attacked.

Kate: ...!

A chill ran down my spine.

Kate: You knew...

Elbert: ...Yes. I saw the list of clients.

Elbert's expression didn't show the pain or sadness I was worried about, but only--the same cold killing intent I felt when Elbert killed the man from the company on the night of the auction, like something crawling out from the bottom of the water.

(And it's much more than that time,)

(Less hesitation, deeper, and denser--)

Elbert: I want to be happy with you.

Elbert: That's why... those who try to take away that happiness...

Elbert: I can't allow it.

When I was staying at the mansion before, I didn't feel any hostility from Elbert towards Jeffrey, despite the fact that he had been hurt for so long.

And yet, now a sharpened hostility is clearly directed towards him.

(Elbert... maybe.)

(Jeffrey...)

A premonition of some decisive event happening makes my heart stir.

But in my heart, along with fear and anxiety--a faint elation wells up.

(Whatever it is)

(Whatever Elbert thinks is necessary for his happiness)

(I don't want to stop him.)

I want him to smile.

I don't want him to give up his own happiness and look sad anymore.

(Whatever happens--)

(I want to stay by Elbert's side.)

Kate: Can I come with you?

Elbert: ... Yes.

Elbert: But... could you wait outside the mansion?

Elbert smiled softly.

Elbert: Because guilt doesn't suit you.

.

.

.

.

.

Blind Love Chapter 24

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