#i stopped drawing for more than a year i didn't have any motivation to do anything

[shy-taylorsversion]

Want You Back | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Inspired by Want You Back by Maisie Peters

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Over a year ago, Y/n started hunting with the boys. Her and Dean's friendship became more than anything she ever had before. Then he hurt her like never before. The worst part was she didn't really care.

Takes place somewhere in season 6 after Sam got his soul back. Flashbacks are during season five.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Cursing (minimal), canon-level violence, few innuendos, and mentions of things. Reader is kinda sad and desperate. Angst. no happy ending :(

A/N: Hi!! After a year of trying to write a complete fic to post, I finally did it. Please excuse any grammar or spelling errors, I relied on Grammarly lol Also I had no idea how to write the action scenes but tried my best. I really don't know if this is worth much but I had so much fun writing sooo I hope you enjoy it!! (gif not mine)

March 2010

  Y/n’s phone buzzed, drawing her attention from the hunter drunkenly blabbering in her ear. They’d just wrapped up a quick hunt, a werewolf somewhere in northern Montana. She didn’t even really know the guy but Bobby had given him her number to ask for help. She agreed, not really having anything more to do. He was fine for a hunter, other than he never shut up and was getting too handsy for her liking, and him being on his fifth drink wasn’t helping. 

She opened the message, not recognizing the number. Bobby had to stop handing it out to whoever.  

           “Hey, Sweetheart. Whatcha up to?”  

The phone fell into her lap. There was only one person she ever let get away with calling her that, or anything really, and he didn’t come around often. 

           “Depends, who is this?”  

    The response was almost immediate. 

          “Don’t do me like that, Y/n”

 She could almost see his stupid grin on the screen and had to look away to control the heat rising in her face. Within five seconds and two texts, Dean Winchester had turned her into a giggling schoolgirl with a crush. 

          “I’m at a bar, what do you want?” 

         “Ah, a girl after my own heart. Which one? I wanna see you.” 

In any other universe, she would have assumed he had ulterior motives. She had the first few times she’d received that text but ended up spending the night hiding her disappointment. He only wanted to see her. He’d meet with her wherever she was. A bar, a motel, a diner.   

They’d spend hours talking about everything. She’d tell him stories of her recent hunts and the hunters she was stuck helping. He’d tell her of whatever they’d been facing. On rare occasions, when it was super late and they were sprawled on her bed, in a half-drunken stupor, he’d tell her about Sam or their dad. He’d mention their childhood and what he was put through. One night, he even mentioned a girl named Cassie, he skirted around details but Y/n understood. 

   They’d fall asleep like that, on top of the covers of a dirty motel bed. The next morning, he’d take her to breakfast, hug her goodbye, and then he was gone. 

     Her phone buzzed in her hand again. 

       “I miss you.” 

Her blood ran cold as she stared at the screen. He’d definitely never said that before. They just never went there and maybe this wasn’t him going there but it was different. Without another thought, she sent him the address. 

Present, April 2011

  “What Dean did wasn’t ok, you know that right?” Sam said through the phone. “He never should’ve left like that. We just really could use your and Bobby’s help on this case.” 

  Y/n sighed in response. What could she even say? That she knew, that she understood. That it still didn’t matter because even through all of the anger and hurt, she’d take him back tomorrow. 

  Not that he’d ever actually been hers. It was only half a spring, barely two months. 

It didn’t matter either way. There was a job to be done and she had to do it. She could put her feelings aside for a few days. 

 “He always left like that, not like I’m surprised.”  

   “Look, I’ve gotta go but please, Y/n, call us if you need anything. We’ll be there soon.“ 

 “Bye, Sam.” 

  The call ended, leaving Y/n leaning against the railing of Bobby’s porch. The early spring wind whipped around her and she hugged her flannel closer, looking out onto the empty road. 

   It had been over a year since she’d seen either of them. She knew of everything that happened to them. Sam going to hell and coming back without a soul. Dean, living a normal life for over a year with a woman and her kid. 

 Y/n didn’t know her, only hearing about the situation from Sam and Bobby in passing. She knew her name was Lisa and that Dean cared for her. Maybe more. She knew that Dean had promised Sam to live a normal life after he jumped into the cage. And she was happy that he got a year of peace. She was. 

   She could picture him helping in the kitchen, wearing an apron with flour smeared across his face. He’d probably set up family movie nights and weekend outings and birthday dinners. He’d been happy and okay. Against all odds, he had gotten out. 

    That didn’t stop the wave of hurt that washed over at the thought of him, all domestic and soft.  

 The click of the door opening pulled her out of her thoughts. Bobby stood there, a knowing look on his face.  

     “C’mon kid, let’s see if we can figure out something before those boys get here.” 

A few hours later, Y/n stared at the book in her lap. She’d been rereading the same paragraph for thirty minutes. Every time she’d get drawn into the book, the house would creak or the wind would blow and she’d be snapped out of it. 

   She kept waiting for the door to open, for footsteps to trail down the foyer and into the living room. She couldn’t even begin to prepare for what the next few days were going to be like. Her only plan was to act as normal as possible, which was already proving to be difficult. 

  A pit formed in her stomach, there was a lump in her throat and her head was clouded. The whole room was hazy and it felt like she was watching herself exist.

    She didn’t even realize she was crying until something wet hit her hands and slid onto her jeans. She quickly wiped her eyes and tried to focus on the book again. The lines blurred together as more tears filled her eyes.  

    God, she was sitting here crying over some guy. She was a grown woman, she had to get over this. It was pathetic at this point. 

   “You know, what Dean did was wrong. Leaving like that, not telling you what happening.” Bobby said, walking into the room, a stack of books in his hands. “I love the kid but he’s a real dick sometimes.”

       He meant well but she swore if one more person said that Dean had done bad, she was going to go crazy. 

    She knew that. More than anyone, she knew. She was the one who spent months hunting with him, helping him and Sam figure out how to save the damn world. They’d spent nights wrapped up in each other, more than ever before. Farther than before.  

  She was the one who woke up to an empty bed with no trace of him anywhere. He never responded to a call or a text. Never even let her know he was alive. 

  He’d left like an assassin. 

   Part of her couldn’t even blame him. It probably had been for the best because if he’d told her what the plan had been, she’d have begged. 

     In the end, he’d got to be a coward and she salvaged some amount of self-respect. 

 “I know, Bobby.” She said, giving him a small smile, “I know.” 

The door creaked causing Y/n to jump, earning her a concerned look from Bobby. 

  She smiled at him again, trying to reassure him. She could tell he’d been worried about her lately. He was justified in it. She’d been on edge and closed off for the last year and a half. 

   She took a deep breath and steadied herself. She’d known these boys for the better part of her life, it wasn’t a big deal. 

     Sam rounded the corner first, entering with a slight grin. His eyes immediately found hers and without warning he pulled her off the couch and into his arms. 

   Y/n let out a surprised laugh as her feet dangled off the ground and the life was squeezed out of her.  

   “I missed you too, Sam.” She said, unable to hold back more laughter, “Put me down now.” 

   Her feet hit the floor and Sam stepped back. She looked him over, still smiling. 

     “I’m so glad you’re back.” 

   “Yeah, me too.” 

A set of footsteps grew louder causing Y/n to look up, only for her to meet two green eyes. 

  The breath was knocked out of her and she was all too aware of the pit in her stomach again. 

Ignoring the pairs of eyes on her, She spun on her heel to face Bobby.   

    “Let’s get started?” 

March 2010 

“I call shotgun!” Y/n yelled as they walked out of the diner and took off towards the Impala.

   She was probably being unfair. She’d barely shared the passenger side in the few weeks she’d been with the boys. Sam was getting huffy about it, she could tell but she enjoyed the view more from the front.  Sitting in the back she’d miss the way Dean’s hands looked gripping the steering wheel, the way his lips moved as he mouthed the lyrics to whatever was on the radio, or the way his eyes would flicker to hers for just a split second. 

 Dean had also finally let her DJ and she didn’t plan on giving that rare privilege away anytime soon.

   “C'mon, dude. It's my turn.” Sam whined, “My legs are starting to cramp.” 

Sam beat her to the car which wasn’t surprising since he was literally the size of one. She was close to giving in when an arm landed on her shoulder. Dean nudged Sam out of the way, ignoring his protests, and opened the door. 

     “Sorry, Sammy.”  Dean’s eyes never left hers as she slid into the seat, “Need my Darlin’ by my side.” 

Present, April 2011

   Cracked wooden planks creaked under Y/n’s feet as she followed the boys and Bobby into the abandoned house. It was pitch black. She blinked her eyes, trying to adapt to the lack of lighting.  

According to Sam, a nest of vamps had been holed up there for weeks. They’d started leaving a trail of bodies, teens who’d come through as a dare or curiosity. She didn’t know the exact numbers racked up in that time but it was enough for Sam and Dean to ask for help. 

   Dean motioned for them to split up, two taking the downstairs and two going up. She went to follow behind Sam who had taken off into the next room but Bobby beat her to it. She would’ve fought back but it wasn’t exactly like she could cause a scene right then. 

   She followed Dean up the stairs, cringing every time the stairs groaned underneath their feet. 

Dean slowed as he hit the final step before a long, dark hallway. Y/n was a step behind him. His body nearly covered her. She shifted to the side to peer around him. 

  Both raised their machetes, trying to keep their breathing quiet as they waited for any sign of movement.

    A crash came from down the hall. Dean started towards the sound, Y/n following close behind. The complete darkness put them on edge. Being minus one sense in a house of at least ten fanged bastards, not fun. 

      The floorboard creaked behind her causing her to flip around, just in time to dodge the first vampire of the night. 

       She swung her machete, hitting its arm. Distracted, she brought down the weapon. Its head hit the floor. 

        Dean yelled out from behind her. She flung herself around to hear him fighting off, what she guessed was three on his own. Her presence seemed to catch the attention of one of them because it charged at her. 

   She dodged, the vamp lunged again grabbing her by the arm. She twisted out of its grasp. Using the angle to her advantage, she swiped her leg around, knocking it off balance. Its head rolled away as its body hit the ground. 

     She wiped the sweat from her forehead and turned to try to find Dean. She still couldn’t see him but she could hear him panting a few feet away.

She was yanked forward. Hands gripped her forearms tight enough to leave bruises and slammed into the wall. Her head buzzed on impact and she forced herself to stay upright. Its fangs grazed her neck and then its head dropped to the floor. 

   Dean stood in front of her, so close she could feel him breathing, rather than hearing it. Without thinking, she reached out to him and landed on his arm. She went to pull away but his other hand grasped her wrist, holding her in place. 

“Thanks.” She breathed, “You good?” 

“Yeah, You?” 

She wished she could see him, make sure he was being truthful. He didn’t exactly have the best track record with honesty. But in the dark, she had no choice but to trust him. 

    “I’m fine.” There were definitely bruises forming in her arms and her head was still spinning but she’d had worse.  

   Dean’s hand dropped her wrist. She ignored the deflated feeling in her chest and dropped her arm back to her side. 

  Without warning, he ran his hands over her arms and up her shoulders. She tried to pull away but he didn’t stop. 

    “What are you doing?” She whisper-yelled. 

“I literally heard you hit the wall, Y/n,” He said, running his hands over her head, checking for any bumps. 

“I am fine.”  She tried to swat him away but he grabbed her wrists mid-air and pulled them to his chest.  

    The air was humid around them. She heard him panting. Leather and sweat invaded her senses. Any focus she had before vanished. 

He was here, touching her, after so long. 

  Silence enveloped them. The only noise was their panting. 

 This was wrong. Sam and Bobby were probably fighting for their life downstairs and here they were, doing whatever this was.

  She was about to pull away when a loud yell came from downstairs. 

   The moment was broken. They took off down the hallway and stairs. Staying close to not get lost in the dark. 

  They hit the last few steps as a vampire, charged at them. 

 Dean swung his machete and it fell to the floor.  

 They moved further into the first floor of the home, finding Sam and Bobby fighting off at least four vamps each.  

   They split up, him going to Bobby and her going to Sam.  

     None of the vampires were aware of her yet. She grabbed the syringe of deadman’s blood out of her pocket and plunged the needle into the closet to her. 

  Now they knew she was there.

 Two turned towards her giving Sam time to take down his remaining one. 

   Both charged at her, hissing. She ran in between them.She flipped around, slicing the blade in an arc. The one on her left doubled over at the impact. 

    She swung. 

The right one lunged at her. She pivoted and cut the blade up. 

Its head hit the floor. 

She looked around the room, a slight beam of moonlight flooded the house now. She made out Sam helping Bobby up from the floor, right as Dean took down the last vampire. 

   The room was silent other than everyone trying to catch their breath.  

Dean’s eyes found hers. She forced herself to look away. Sam interrupted the non-moment. 

“Time for drinks?” 

Y/n and the boys decided to go out. They were leaving soon but everyone needed time to wash off and get ready. 

   She dragged the black liner across her eyelid, double-checking to see if it smeared the shimmery brown eyeshadow she’d already put on. The cracks in the old mirror made it kind of hard to perfect the make-up but it would have to do.  She already changed from her bloodied hunting clothes into a clean pair of jeans with a simple tank top. She didn’t own much and traveled with less. 

“Broke mirrors are bad luck, ya know?”  

  Dean leaned against the doorframe, flannel pulled taut around his crossed arms. 

She ignored the pit that had reappeared in her stomach and continued applying her lipstick. She flipped through ideas for a response. She could yell at him to get out or cry about how much he hurt her. Instead, she opted to act like nothing was wrong. 

   “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who broke it.”  She said, shoveling her makeup back into the bag, still never meeting his eye. She stood and gathered the rest of her stuff into a neat pile on her bed. Her back was completely towards him. 

    She heard him walk into the room and the door clicked shut. 

“Y/n, look at me.”  

She turned around and looked up at him. Her eyebrows raised like he was boring her. In reality, she was struggling to breathe. Her hands shook and a lump was stuck in her throat.  

 Her eyes glanced over his face. His jaw was set but eyes were soft.  She knew where this was going. 

  Dean took a deep breath before starting.  

“Look, what I did-” 

“Do not finish that sentence, Dean Winchester.” She spat. 

“I just-”

“No. You don’t get to say anything. You don’t get to say that what you did was wrong or how sorry you are. You don’t think I don’t know that what you did was wrong? Everyone keeps telling me that. Bobby, Sam and now you. They kept telling me how horrible of you that was like it wasn’t me. Like I wasn’t the one who spent months with you, like I didn't help you figure out how to stop the fucking apocalypse. Like I didn’t stitch you up after every hunt or spend every car ride next to you. Like I wasn’t the one who would hold you after you woke up screaming or it wasn’t me who spent every single night in your fucking sheets.” 

 Every ounce of refrain she’d worked to keep was gone. Hot tears were streaming down her face as her eyes bored into his. He didn’t try to interrupt her but his jaw twitched and body tensed. 

  “Like it wasn’t me who woke up two months later to an empty bed. You were gone, Dean. You left without a word. No text, no note. Nothing. You fucking left me. And then I found out you were with some other girl for a year? So yeah, I know that what you did was bad.” 

Somewhere in her speech, she’d moved close enough for their chest to touch. Her finger was stabbing into his chest.  He didn’t move, was barely breathing but she wasn’t finished. 

   “Maybe it was cheap to you, or maybe it was some fling to pass the time but it was real to me. It was all I had. You were all I had.” Her voice broke at the last word and she dropped her hand. Her head fell as she cried. Over a year of built-up heartbreak exploding in one moment was too much. 

     His hand found hers and placed it back on his chest. She looked back up at him, his other hand reaching out to cup her cheek. She closed her eyes as his thumb wiped away the remaining tears. 

    “Do you want to know what the worst part is?” She whispered, eyes still shut. “I’d be yours again if you wanted. If you asked. How pathetic is that?” 

      “Y/n.” 

She opened her eyes to look at him despite her embarrassment.  

  “You are anything but cheap or pathetic.” His voice was thick and his eyes were glassy. She’d seen him in so many different states but she’d never seen so much emotion written across his face. 

   “Ask me then. Ask me to come with you.” 

His expression darkened and he dropped his hand from her face. He took a step back and looked away. 

   “It’s not that easy.” He said, shaking his head. “It's never that easy.” 

She let out a bitter laugh. 

 She wasn’t even surprised. She should’ve been disappointed or furious but she was just over it. She was tired and desperate. And if she couldn’t have him, he needed to go. 

  She wiped a hand down her face and glanced back into the mirror assessing the damage her outburst caused. She started wiping off the messed-up liner before starting to reapply. Dean stood behind her, brows furrowed in confusion. 

    “Get out.” She said without hesitation, her voice as steady as possible.  

He opened his mouth as if to speak but shut it. He walked towards the door but stopped with his hand on the doorknob. 

   “For what it's worth, I am sorry.” 

The buzz of conversation filled the packed-out bar. Sam found them a small booth in the corner and was now talking about a new piece of lore he’d found about some Egyptian god. Most of the time, she loved hearing what he had to say but right now all she could focus on was Dean's hand trailing up and down the woman’s hip. He never even sat down with them, finding himself a spot at the bar, next to a pretty blonde. She’d watched for half an hour now as he grinned at the girl, whispered in her ear, and bought her a drink. 

  She wanted to puke or cry or both. She decided to get drunk instead. 

She went to take a sip of her beer only to realize it was empty. Motioning to Sam she was going to get another, she slid out of the booth and made her way to the opposite side of the bar from Dean. 

   She planned to order a shot of some vodka and another beer but she couldn’t catch the attention of either bartender.

  A body bumped up against hers causing her to stumble. A hand wrapped around her waist to catch her. She almost jerked away but she looked up to find a familiarly unfamiliar pair of dark green eyes and dark blonde hair.  

   The man was by far the prettiest she’d seen all night. 

 “I am so sorry, It's packed in here. Isn’t it?  Nowhere to stand.” He had a slight southern drawl and a boyish charm about him. 

 “It is. Can’t seem to even order a drink.”  She smiled at him.

 “You see, now that had to be fate or something because I was just wantin’ to buy you one.” He grinned and waited, almost seeing if she’d allow it. His hand was still on her but she found she didn’t really mind. 

 The room was fuzzy and she could only make out the man in front of her. Even then, he was a little hazy and she had no idea what he was saying, only that his mouth looked pretty as he said it.    

  Y/n didn���t know how long it’d been since the handsome stranger volunteered to feed into her night of drunkenness or even how many she’d had so far. She vaguely remembered him buying her the first shot and then the second and maybe a third. They made small talk, she gave some bullshit story about what she did for work and where she was from. Somewhere in between she had a fourth, fifth, and sixth one. 

 And somewhere between the seventh and now, she’d lost track of Dean. She didn’t even know if he was still there. She did know that the new guy made her feel ok, at least for now. His hands never left her and the drinks never seemed to end.

  She could barely remember the events of the day. Maybe by tomorrow, she wouldn’t remember any of it, or at least a girl could hope.

But right now, she didn’t feel like crying or throwing up as long as she didn’t think of it. 

   She decided in her drunken haze that maybe this was what she needed. So when the stranger asked her if she wanted to leave, she agreed. And when he leaned down to kiss her, she let him.

[larluce]

I want to talk about Arthur's reaction to Merlin being a sorcerer in magic reveal fics.

There are the ones that portray a very violent and cruel Arthur. Fisically injuring Merlin on impulse or trying to supress his magic with cold iron. Almost killing him by accident due to outburst or ignorance for him to feel very guilty afterwards. I get why they do it. The angst and drama. And, while there are very well written fics with these prompts, I don't actually believe Arthur would react that way. No matter how betrayed, angry and hurt he feels.

True, there were occasions where Arthur reacted badly, or really, just two occasions: when Morgause told him the truth about his birth and he almost killed his father, and when Gwen "cheated" on him with Lancelot and banish her. However, in the first scenario he genuinely believed his father had killed his mother just out of selfishness, the mother he never got to meet and blame himself for her death all his life, and then killed thousands, not really out of guilt or revenge which probably was Uther main motive, but out of pure hypocrisy. Honestly, even the most kindhearted and nonviolent person would react that badly! I don't think we can compare learning your best friend lied to you about being a sorcerer for years with that. When it came to Gwen though Arthur was actually merciful. As King he should have had her executed, he couldn't NOT punish her in some way because there were witnesses and he couldn't be look as a weak or unreasonable King. And even as angry as he was, he let her explain herself, he was willing to listen to what she had to say. Looking a little backwards, when Arthur found Gwen kissing Lancelot and went on full rage, he never draw his sword at her and is actually when she put herself between Lancelot and his blade that he stops. The woman he loved betrayed him, made him look like a fool infront an entire council and probably the entire kingdom as well and yet he never once insulted her. The much he did, besides banish her of course, was shaking her by the arms in his anger but it's short lived and he quickly apologised after that, because even after what Gwen did to him he can't bare the though of hurting her.

Then there are the fics were Arthur reacts too nicely to the news. He is understanding, he doesn't even get mad at all. He is fine with Merlin being a sorcerer right away. While these fics tend to be cute and all fluff, they make less sense to me that the first ones I mentioned. Arthur still was raised to hate magic, that doesn't go away just in a minute. Also while he can be a very reasonable man, he is a very resentful one too, at least when it comes to trust. We've seen this through the series, nothing breaks his heart more than someone he cares for betraying his trust. Returning to the previous example, while he let go Gwen unharmed after the infidelity, it took him a long time to actually forgive her. Also, while not being a violent man normally, Arthur can be very hurtful with words when he's upset. He threathened Merlin with banishment when he was still hurt about Gwen and Merlin kept reminding him about her. When Merlin decided not to go with him to the most important battle in his life, he said his famous "I always though you were the bravest man I ever met... I guess I was wrong". He didn't actually mean the words, but he's hurt so he hurts others to appease the pain. Was he being unfair and selfish when he said these things? Yes, he's not perfect, he has flaws but that makes him human.

So, how do I actually believe Arthur would react if he had found out about Merlin's magic before Canmlan? Not so different really. He would have said hurtful things, would demand to be alone, for Merlin to leave (not banishment), but he wouldn't fisically injure Merlin in any way. He also wouldn't arrest him at least there were other witnesses and he had to keep appearences, because he's still king of a kingdom that bans magic. But even then he would late let Merlin explain himself and make sure he has a fair trial, a trial Arthur would definitely arrange in a way Merlin is found innocent, or he would give him a royal pardon, and he would make sure Merlin is not harm while he's in the dungeons. Banishment would be a last resort if the council is firm about Merlin being punish, because laws and mentalities can't be changed in a day after all.

But if there're not other witnesses, Arthur would simply not require his servicies for a while, ignore him for some days, weeks maybe, but not a long time really. Again, he can be a resentful person, but not an unreasonable one, he would eventually call for Merlin and be willing to listen to him. The intesity of his anger and hurt, and how troubled he feels about his believes on magic, would depend on which season the magic reveal happens. But, generally, the actions he would take would be the same. Let's remember that even when he found out about Merlin's magic in Camnlan, after all the betrayals he suffered, when Merlin left him alone with Gaius, he ordered Gaius, not for Merlin to be arrested or to disclose to someone Merlin was a sorcerer, but to have Merlin take a word to Gwen! To his wife! If he really believed Merlin was evil, that he could hurt him, he wouldn't dare to do that. Also, as soon as he learned he needed Merlin to have a chance of survival, he accepted his help, reluctantly yes, but he did let him take him to the sidhe when he could easly refuse and demand Gaius to do it or refuse to do it all together cause going to the sidhe would mean using magic on himself and put faith in a sorcerer. So, no, I don't believe he ever planed on taking Merlin to the dungeons, much less kill him, even then. He just wanted to be left alone for a moment, he needed Merlin to leave because it hurt to see him after the revelation, after the betrayal.

Anyways, those are my thoughts. What do you think?

[shadale-s-safe-space]

I don't know much about you as a person, but from what I can gather you've had a long journey with art, but still have the motivation to continue even when its rough. I'm sure you didn't start out making masterpieces, so if its not too much trouble, do you have any advice for a 16 year old artist losing motivation? i feel like im stagnating right now and its awful

Idk man, all I can say is, draw watchu want without the care who's gonna see it or what they gonna say , commit to new ideas and care less about pleasing everyone, because I know that way too well, I started learning by drawing animals, flowers and nature, "you should draw something else", switches to furries " No you must do human portraits", draws humans *no one fuckin cares*, and I felt miserable drawing what I didn't want all the damn time just trying to please everyone and be liked, hell, I still do that sometimes cuz I'm a dumbass. When in reality, when you do your own thing is when you're the happiest, this internet bullshit? Yeah don't trust the likes and favs, people like what they find relatable, no one really knows how much time you've spent on your drawing or how much you love it, when a 5 min doodle you did could do more than a painting that took 2 whole days to complete just to be scrapped in a new speedy record, paint what you love for yourself and you only.

Don't be shy to learn new things, I have tons of stuff I don't post here cuz I know people wouldn't care about it, but here for this post, have this that I practiced when I felt too depressed to think of anything good and wanted to step back from the MD artstyle

You'll see, you'll thrive when you draw what you want, and get yourself a drawing buddy! That way you'll stop focusing on the internet and more on each other, and each other's improvement. Tbh I struggled with that one. Since everyone I had were not into art irl, I somehow managed to find someone after 10 years of drawing alone. I honestly wanted more people to join in and make an improvement circle, but unfortunately that never happened.

I found myself twice as productive now than ever, even though I'm not active here as much I am still drawing and making things, ofc giving you more comics! And other fun things in the future I hope.

If you're struggling to draw something just do it, man commit, i was uncomfortable drawing men and male characters for years, I've wasted so many years being "too uncomfortable" and draw a naked person like yeesh who fucking cares, it's for studying.

And ofc if you feel like you're not improving at all please, please experiment with your artstyle and try something new, please refresh your mind, I was stuck for years doing the same thing over and over, same colors, same 2px brush, drawing like a machine same shit over and over, I felt so stuck and lost, but also afraid to do something new, idk why, I guess I never felt good enough or deserving of it. I also didn't go to art school, I am NOT a professional, nor will i ever be in my opinion. Hell, me feeling like I'll never be good enough left me afraid to try and apply for art school, they were asking for sculptures, different mediums all that scary stuff and I was like, I don't.. know.. how to do those things... I can't build a portfolio in less than 3 months?!?! I don't even know how to use half of what they're asking for!!

In reality at the end of the day, art is what you make of it and no one can stop you, search for inspirations and don't be afraid to try, yes you'll fail fist 2 or 10 or hell even 100 times, but you'll come back with more knowledge than ever.

For ending I give you the most confusing drawing to ever exist [dw he's just sleeping on top of her and she's just ghasping for air but awe romance or sum lol] is it weird? Yeah but I had a fun time making it hahaha

Idk I'm bad at putting my thoughts together, but hopefully some of this helps.

[neuroprincess]

August - Larissa Weems/Female Reader - Part Two

Larissa Weems/Female Reader

Summary: After knowing about August's existence, Larissa tries to get closer to the teenager and making it work can be difficult when both are socially awkward.

Classification: Fluff

Warnings: OC (original character)

Word count: +2700

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four (soon)

Unrevised

The teenager takes a bite of apple as she stares at the courtyard distractedly, the social groups are dispersed, gathered together talking about random things, mostly about Rave'N Ball which soon became the main topic. Everyone seems excited describing their party clothes bought especially for the day and who they would bring, she knows she should be excited about the same things or at least pretend so she could socialize with them, but she isn't and can't, the only promising thing about the ball is the food and dancing. She loves to dance, since childhood it seems to be the best way to express herself, more than words anyway. At the age of four she started ballet classes and continued performing until 13 when she had a growth spurt, being too tall and with an inadequate bone structure to continue being a dancer, August used her abilities as much as she could to continue dancing and in the end had to let go when mom found out, disapproving. Y/N understood the motivations, it was the girl's first individual interest and something she had devoted herself to for years, this didn't negate the fact that using shapeshifting is a type of cheating and this consumed a lot of her daily energy to continue with the farce. Besides, where they were living was not very kind to any outcast and unsafe for someone like the teenager, in the end they had to resort to the most radical alternative, sending her to Nevermore. Learning things that she, as a mom and normie, could never teach.

August takes one last bite before discarding the rest of the fruit in the trashcan next to the bench she is sitting on, as turning around she notices the presence of the principal almost next to her, standing looking at some vague point pretending to be analyzing the students, except for her as if barely acknowledging her presence. The girl waves a hand in greeting to get her attention and succeeds, they exchange a quick smile and nod, looking back to the courtyard. It's awkward, none of them like this atmosphere and at the same time they don't make the first move towards a real conversation.

"I... I heard that you haven't been using your abilities for two days now." the blonde begins running over the first few words before continuing "How do you feel about that?"

"It's boring, I confess my life seemed easier. And some people just won't stop staring at me."

"Well, you're pretty and tall, you draw attention from boys and girls." Larissa tries to hit back with positive points and winks to her "Anyone interesting?"

She notices how the girl unconsciously stares at a specific group and looks away blushing, redness taking over cheeks and ears. August just whispers "No." and stares at her confused, she thinks that somehow it's not normal for the principal to ask questions like that. But this is a new world which she is still learning the rules.

"Right... have you already been introduced to your classmates?"

"Not exactly, that blonde werewolf talked to me the first day and told me who was who, after that we never talked again." the teenager shrugs shoulders about the fact, she had met a few students who either seemed intimidated or didn't even bother to introduce themselves properly "And that's okay, I'm trying things on my own."

"I understand." neither of them knows what to say anymore, remaining in a silence for minutes that isn't uncomfortable despite the growing anxiety in the pit of their stomachs. She knows August is talking about Enid and it's her group that she has unintentionally stared at. The girl stands up slowly when she notices some students are already gathering for class "Your uniform looks very... short."

Larissa notices that when the teenager stands, they are 6 inches apart, the uniform set with the skirt, which should be just past her knees, looks too small for her size, like it shrunk in the dryer or something. The sweater is tucked tighter against the body instead of being comfortably loose around her, the shoes look slightly uncomfortable, and the skirt that should be below the knee reaches her knees.

"Oh, that! I guess I spent so much time changing my form that I didn't even realize I had another growth spurt, I just forgot to warn Mama. I could take care of it with my own hands, but shapeshifting is out of our deal." the girl straightened the clothes on her body trying to make them conform to the uniform as best as she could, feeling embarrassed by the situation "I think I can handle 5 days until I can use my abilities again." she whispers the last part for only the two to hear.

"Why don't you tell your mother? I'm sure soon you will stop growing and be able to wear only a size of clothes." "Because that's how it happened to me" the blonde mentally adds, in her school days she had to change the size of her clothes and shoes three times. Growing pains as a teenager, her mother always told her on the way to the mall to buy more clothes. Victoria Weems is as tall as her daughter and apparently the girl inherited that from them, even if Y/N's genes allow her to be a little shorter than the two older Weems "I'm sure she'll buy."

"I'm sure too and that's exactly the point." she says simply, her tone making it clear that she doesn't want to continue the topic, then puts the backpack on shoulders "I have to go, botany class now."

"Right! August, think carefully about the ball, it's not mandatory, but it's a great experience and you have a week to prepare." the principal blinks as the girl walks past her, in response she just gets a shy smile.

Larissa smiles back and as soon as the teenager disappears from her vision she turns to the group of students where Enid is, Wednesday with her, Xavier a short distance away from them, Bianca, Divina and Yoko are nearby talking to the duo, the new student doesn't seem interested keeping the same expression as always, which sends a shiver down her spine when directed at her as Addams realizes the tall woman is staring. The blonde immediately turns to go back to her office, pretending this moment didn't happen, even being a teenager she gives her some chills, not that she is scary but yes her actions, she doesn't know what to expect from her.

On the way through the halls Lara August doesn't leave her mind. First, as principal for many years and past hundreds of students, she didn't believe August would follow through on the deal so easily, the next day the fountain was completely clean and more than before, once again Larissa found herself looking for her, this time knowing who to look for and not found her. What made her upset was the possibility that the girl had gone back to using the abilities to hide from her, a possibility soon denied by Thornhill who had the girl as a helper most part of the day and claimed she saw her go straight to the dormitory. Second, she learned more about her supposed daughter, August sleeps in Ophelia Hall sharing a room with a psychic outcast, the academic curriculum is focused on history and literature, she tried fencing and left when Bianca beat her in 10 seconds, after being rejected by the yearbook she is still looking for an extracurricular activity. And last and not least, that the teenager loves hot chocolate, or should at least like it a lot, because Larissa has seen her drink many cups of hot chocolate with whipped cream this morning for breakfast.

And something struck her as she analyzed the short conversation they had at the break, the group that Lara stared at was precisely Enid's... with Wednesday. It couldn't be possible, she wished there wasn't the slightest chance that the blonde was liking the other girl. Not only would it be ironic considering her own past with Morticia, it would also be Y/N's ruin and maybe August's, because as far as anyone can tell the two are complete opposites. Perhaps, with some hope, her possible love interest could be any of the other girls or even Xavier.

"I wonder if this is how parents feel or act when their children are having a crush on someone."

The day is already over for the Nevermore students, most of them have finished dinner, going to their respective dormitories or gathering in common rooms to study for exams the next day. August doesn't feel the need to spend her evening like this after having dedicated all her free hours to it, she sees how desperate everyone is about some difficult subjects and wonders if she should approach them for help, giving up the idea when they find the answer by themselves or with the help of Bianca, who majestically walks around the tables helping their classmates with small things as if she has all the content memorized in her brilliant mind and making a point of showing how intelligent she is. The shapeshifter tries to be discreet as she stares at their interactions, knowing she is failing in this as her eyes can't leave her until the other notices, Bianca frowns as their gazes meet. August turns face quickly and places her hands on cheeks knowing she must be blushing, this is how it works, when in her normal form the pale skin gives way with annoying ease. It's not like she knows how to hide reactions and emotions either, another part of her socially maladjusted personality.

"Hey, white head!" the siren calls out approaching her, laughing when she notices how the girl stiffens at the desk, dropping the book she was reading and slowly turns to look, confusion in her eyes wondering if it was she who was called "Yes, you. Are you having a hard time too?"

"Yeah, no, I mean no. I've been studying all day." she stutters, trying to look anywhere but Barclay's intimidating eyes.

"I see. So do you have a problem with me?" the question is direct and sincere, too direct for the blonde's conversational standards.

"No, never, I'm... I'm sorry." the two stare at each other for a few seconds that seem tense and that atmosphere is cut off by the queen bee's loud laugh, August not sure how to feel about this reaction, even more confused.

"You were staring at me."

"I didn't even realize. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." she swallows dryly and finally gets up the courage to look her in the eyes, feeling legs getting weak and maybe pressure dropping along with it, if she wasn't sitting up she would probably fall to knees on the floor.

"It's all right. Well, if that's it..." Bianca says casually ready to go to another table to offer help.

"Bianca! Actually..." the shapeshifter takes a deep breath trying to gather courage to continue "I need help, not with the exams. I'm terrible at fencing, you know that, you're the one who made me kiss the ground a month ago." the two laugh for different reasons remembering of her first fencing lesson "Could you give me some lessons or some help? Please."

"Sure! Maybe after the ball, you have the potential for a good opponent, Lara."

"Thank you..."

As soon as the siren gives back August gets up gathering her belongings and tries to leave the common room as discreetly as possible, a difficult task when she messes with the strap of the backpack attached to the chair and quick steps that make the shoes resonate on the floor. "She knows my name! She knows my fucking name!" is the only thing the blonde can think of while running to her dorm, avoiding curious and even judging glances at the big smile on her lips. When she enters the bedroom she seems to be walking on clouds and suddenly feels silly for acting this way just because Bianca Barclay knows her name, maybe it's no big deal, she is a brilliant student with a great memory, or maybe it's too much because after all she is the queen bee while August is another teen without any highlight and who would never draw her attention. August sighs and walks to her side of the room throwing the backpack on the bed, that's when she notices a perfectly wrapped red package on top of the blankets, she stares at it confused, for a moment believes that maybe it's a gift for her roommate and they got the sides confused, but there is a note with her full name written in cursive handwriting.

The package is opened with care, the ribbons undo the lace to reveal a complete uniform set, from blazer to shoes, what makes her happiest is the skirt in the right size looking perfectly cut for her slim and tall body. She looks at herself in the mirror with the skirt clinging to the body, loving how it looks, she would no longer have to adjust every time she sits down or stands up and that is a great relief. All the items are folded up again to be stored and only then August notices something at the bottom of the package, she pulls out a small thick black book with gold details, Good Omens by Neil Gaiman. Next to it a note attached written "It's one of my favorite books, maybe you'll like it too. Good read, August." and immediately she knows who gave her the package. Principal Weems. The only person in the academy who knows how she likes to be called and uses the name. No matter how stubborn and proud she is felt good to earn it from her, almost hugged for someone other than her mom caring about her.

Another morning begins with Larissa comfortably working on her laptop, it's one of the rare occasions when it's calm, especially with the recent events in Jericho and Nevermore, of course, over the question of a certain student's motherhood. Momentarily the tension was lifted from her shoulders and she felt good, relaxing against the chair. Eyes closed thinking of good times, both past and present. She remembers clearly the day she met Y/N, ten years younger, cheerful and spirited, always friendly when she served her a cup of tea. Their first kiss in front of Larissa's apartment, her former home when only a teacher. They barely had a first date before falling into each other's arms, drunk on love... and wine. She sighs remembering those nights on weekends when they bought bottles to accompany home-cooked dinners and it always ended in the same thing. She can remember the young woman's face in vivid details, it's surreal.

And she comes to the realization that there is one more thing to take care of, to finally talk to Y/N, two days earlier all the courage she had gathered to make that call crumbled as soon she heard her voice on the other side of the phone. She hung up without saying anything, hoping that the other woman would think it was a wrong call or just someone making a prank. When there was no return call she knew she was safe and initiated a plan, not very complex, but still important and difficult to approach the teenager. If was any other child she knows it would be easier, but every time she is around August can't stop thinking that this girl is her daughter, even if there isn't a DNA test to prove it yet, imagining how she must have been as a kid, about who she is, what she likes or dislikes, the guilt eating her up inside every second she spends next to her.

"August, what..." she whispers startled when the girl opens the office doors unceremoniously, she is red and disheveled hair evidencing that she ran all the way there "I see you are wearing the..."

"I thought we had an deal, Principal Weems!" she almost shouts interrupting the older woman, to the surprise of both of them "I tried to behave, to fulfill our deal, I'm not even using my abilities. And you betrayed me! I feel dumb for trusting an adult."

"What are you talking about, Lara August?" Larissa doesn't know if she is confused or angry at the teenager's attitude, her tone of voice expresses that.

"You weren't supposed to call my mom and you called her."

"I didn't..."

"She's here!"

"Shit!"

"Yeah, shit!"

"Watch your mouth, young lady!"

taglist: @opheliauniverse @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @scarr0713 @missdowling @dvrkhcld @heidss @loudchaoscoffee @xvyzxx

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[slightly-depressed-sloth]

Little fandom vent; sometimes I get annoyed at the way fandom reduces Damian down to stabby child who only cares about himself and does murder. Like yeah while I get fandom almost always reduces characters down to their funniest or snappiest traits Damian's just doesn't make sense.

Like his whole character is about how much he DOESNT want to be those things.

Damian cares so so so much about other people he just struggles to express it bc it takes a lot for him to trust someone enough to believe they're not going to pull the rug out from under him or betray him somehow. If he didn't care about other people he wouldn't have spent months trying to find Martha's pearls in the sewer, risking his life bc there was a bounty on his head at this point and further ruining his image with Bruce (who thought Damian was just sneaking off and putting himself in danger). He wouldn't have denounced the league and everything he knew to protect a man he'd met less than a year ago. He wouldn't have purposely failed a timed test as Robin to get across the city as fast as possible (a test that would've allowed him to go out alone as Robin and given him more independence one of things Damian values very highly) instead he went over the allowed time by more than 10 hours BC he helped old women with their shopping and walked women home after they were robbed and he sat with a man he saw crying in his apartment for more than 2 hours just having tea with him. I could go on and on about all the genuinely kind things he does bc Damian's empathy and kindness is one of his defining traits actually.

And yeah he used to kill people and he was more prone to violence than the other Robins but he was literally raised in an environment where his worth and by proxy his survival was tied to how well he did murder. I'm pretty sure if you raised any child in an environment where since they were born they were rewarded for killing and violence but punished for showing mercy and told them that it's for the greater good, that they're special and that there's nothing wrong with killing if the ends justify the means they'd end up the same.

Not to mention Damian fights so hard to not be violent bc he doesn't want to be, the people Damian admires most in the world (Dick and Jon) both based their entire personality around Superman (also it's confirmed Supes is his fav justice Leaguer in supersons). Damian wants to be like them so bad and wants to be kind and outgoing and as pacifist as you can get as a vigilante. Damian struggles so much to be that person but it's not as easy as just stopping when you've been conditioned your whole life that killing is the right move and that your worth as a person and the love of those around is dependent on you doing it. He literally keeps a sketch book where he just draws out all the intrusive violent thoughts he gets while fighting villains to get the anger and compulsion out so that he DOESN'T do those things. And Damian feels immensely guilty about all of his past murders which is shown over and over. When he kills no-body (an action he did to protect Bruce) he asks Bruce afterwards how he's supposed to make amends, how he's supposed to live with it.

Which leads me onto the other thing (and hopefully the last cause wow this is getting long) even Damian at his absolute worst only performs extreme violence out of either self defense or logic to him. He doesn't do it out of maliciousness (or at least that isn't the motivating factor). His worst actions were probably in his introduction where he 1) He accosted Alfred and stole the key to exit the batcave 2) Decapitated a villian 3) Attacked Tim

So let's get background on these events from Damian's pov. Damian has never been told who his father is and has to duel his mother every year on his birthday for the chance to find out. And then on his 10th birthday he wins and then that same night he's taken on a plane to go live with this man who he's told about on the plane ride over, then his first impression of him is Bruce fighting a bunch of manbats. His mother says she's leaving him with him indefinitely not telling him when she'll be back. And then this man who he only found out about hours beforehand takes him on another plane to a foreign country where he knows no-one and he finds out his father has other children as well. He's then locked in a small room adjoining a fucking cave full of weapons and told virtually nothing with no-one really talking to him except for them telling him that oh yeah everyone you know and trust is evil and your whole world view is wrong. And then when he yells at Bruce and has what's honestly best described as a temper tantrum (BC oh yeah he was literally 9 years old until a couple hours ago) Bruce in a bid to try and control his anger (since he's not sure how dangerous he is yet) uses league tactics on Damian telling him that he's dishonouring those who taught him. So the literal child whose spent his 10th birthday being flown around the globe to be a dumped in a foreign country with a man he's never met and only knows is a good fighter with a family consisting of an unknown amount of other allies who are similarly trained and then was locked in a room after being told his whole life is a lie might be forgiven for latching onto the only familiar thing here and going 'oh! Now I know how this works'

With the knowledge that Damian definitely decided from this conversation that the bats operate the same as the league it's pretty clear his reasoning is

1) Accosting Alfred and and stealing the key - a) I don't think you'd wanna be locked in a space by a bunch of strangers either no matter how nice the space is b) he probably assumed it was a challenge to see whether he was able to break out and a way they were testing his worth/ability

2) Decapitated a villian - once again assuming this is a test and trying to prove his worth/help his father in the mission to stop crime he was just told about

3) attacked Tim - a) Damian assumes that since Tim is home that he must be the current favourite and it's already known that in the league the way you replace someone is by killing them thus proving you were better than them. B) in the league if you were not the favourite/the best you were disposable c) the only way Damian knows how to earn/receive love is by performing violence, it's pretty reasonable that a 10 year old would try to go above and beyond to earn their new father's love (especially for a child like Damian whose always looking for that unconditional love he's been denied)

From Damian's perspective here he's being the best son anyone could want, he's doing the most past the point he'd be expected to and only being met with anger and disgust. Not to mention that from his view he's literally ensuring his safety since once again in the league Damian was one of the only people whose safety was ensured by proxy of him being the heir/favourite, we literally see them kill other leaguers as part of training.

Like this isn't to excuse what he did or say it's right but it is to point out that it WAS right from Damian's point of view and that he doesn't do what he does out of malice or blood thirst he's just a small child who quite literally didn't know any better.

(also him being mean is similarly a self defense thing, it's fairly common in abused kids. It's the logic of you can't hurt me if I hurt you first/you can't hurt me if I don't let you get close enough)

[ssa-montgomery]

In The Woods Somewhere

Word Count: 9069

Summary: When Y/N is found in the woods by Rick and Daryl she doesn't know what kind of life is waiting for her at Alexandria, but she certainly isn't expecting the complicated relationship she develops with Daryl. Can the pair work through their differences and become friends? And maybe even more than that?

Characters: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader, Dog, Rick Grimes, Carol Peletier (mentioned)

Warnings: Use of weapons, canon-level violence, hunting animals, smoking, use of alcohol, mentions of blood, scars, hints at pass abuse, swearing, dirty talk, smut, couch sex, slight breeding kink, oral fixation, oral sex

A/N: I have been wanting to write for The Walking Dead for a very long time and my friend has been requesting a Daryl fic of me for easily over a year so I hope these over 9000 words make up for how long you had to wait! I absolutely loved exploring Daryl's character with this so please do leave me some more requests here or over on Tumblr and I hope you enjoy! You can expect to see more TWD fics around here in the future :)

Feedback is what motivates me to work so please let me know what you think! Reblogs are also greatly appreciated.

Taglist is open!

Masterlist

When you'd been out here alone in these woods, learning how to survive day to day as long as you had it was easy to lose track of time. It could have been weeks, months maybe since you lost your camp, you couldn't remember anymore. One day you were safe, in a secure camp with people you could trust and the next a horde ran it into the ground, destroying everything you had. Your group was scattered who knows where during the attack, left to fend for themselves and you found yourself alone once again. Somehow you always ended up back here.

After the attack, you ran until you found a quiet, secluded area with enough coverage to set up a hidden makeshift camp. It was enough to survive but not for long. The natural resources in the area were running low and there was only so far you could travel before it became dangerous. That was how you found yourself here, walking along the side of a long-since-abandoned highway hoping there would be any kind of house or gas station that would give you the resources you needed.

You didn't dare walk on the road, keeping to the side instead with your head down and your hood up. You knew there was a slim chance of running into anyone out here anymore but you didn't want to risk drawing attention to yourself. It was an unfortunate truth that most of the people left now would do anything to survive and you couldn't waste your time on another person that was just going to steal your resources and leave you for dead.

Something caught your attention, a noise in the distance that you couldn't quite place at first. It wasn't until the sound grew closer that you realised it was the low rumble of a car approaching on the highway. You had seconds to react before the car turned the corner onto the stretch of road you were walking along. You slipped into the treeline, hiding behind the closest cover you could find until the car hopefully passed by. Your plan seemed to prove unsuccessful, the car slowed until it rolled to a complete stop where you had just disappeared from the view of the road.

There was low talk muffled by the car doors but you could make out the voices of two men before one of the doors opened and someone stepped out onto the road. You slowly moved your hand under your jacket and pulled your gun from the holster on your hip, sliding off the safety. You tried to control your breathing, staying as still as possible in the hopes that they would simply leave if they thought you had already slipped away or were just some random walker.

"We're not here to hurt you." The man called out, he had a deep southern accent and his voice was calm and steady as he spoke, almost gentle. It was clear this wasn't his first time talking down a situation like this. "We're here to help. My friend and I are from a community a few miles back, we have houses, solar power, runnin' water, and farms. It's safe. We just wanna help more people."

You stayed silent, you weren't stupid enough to trust a single word he was saying based solely on the promise of an impossible-sounding community. Even when you had encountered communities that were this advanced before there was always a price, a price you weren't willing to pay. Not again.

"I understand you don't wanna trust us, trust is a rare resource now. I didn't wanna trust it either when we were the ones with nothin' that were invited in, but it worked out. Our community is safe I can promise you that much and there isn't no price to pay. All we ask is that you can help provide to keep the town runnin'"

"What makes you think I'll go anywhere with you? I have no idea who you are. No proof of your community." You said finally breaking your silence when you realised he wasn't going anywhere without an answer. Even considering trusting this mand was a stupid idea and you knew it, but at the rate you were going with rations if you didn't find more supplies you'd starve on your own, and you weren't that stupid.

"My name's Rick, the man in the car is Daryl. You don't gotta trust us, trust is earned and I respect that we ain't done anything to earn that yet but let us ask you a few questions and maybe you can come back and join our community. We got women and children back home, my own children too if you'd be more comfortable talkin' with them."

It was quiet for a moment while you thought over your options. You could stay out here and possibly never find the supplies you needed or you could trust for once, go with them and maybe just maybe, have a better chance of surviving. 

"I'll ride with you, let you ask your questions." You agreed against every instinct in your body, but you weren't going anywhere with them without setting your own terms first. "But I keep my weapons, and if at any point I don't like this or I feel like it's a trap, I leave."

"That's alright by me." Rick sounded almost relieved as he spoke and for a second you believed that maybe he genuinely did want to help. 

You stepped out from behind the tree you'd been using for coverage and made a show of good faith, slowly lowering your gun as you turned back on the safety. You lowered your hood and met Rick's gaze for the first time. You could tell now he wasn't lying about how well-developed this community was, his beard was trimmed, his clothes cleaned and he looked freshly washed. Clean clothes were something you hadn't had the privilege of in a long time and a warm shower sounded like heaven right about now.

You recognised something in Rick, the way he negotiated with you, you had been right, this wasn't his first time. You could see it in the way he carried himself, how naturally his hand rested by the gun holstered on his belt, ready to draw at any second.

"You're a cop?" You asked as you finally holstered your gun, feeling comfortable enough with the situation that you wouldn't have to fight. Not right now.

"Yes ma'am." He nodded with a sense of pride that was clear on his face. "Sheriff Rick Grimes with Atlanta P.D."

"Okay, I'll come with you. For now." Rick stepped back letting you take the lead as you walked towards the car. You reached for the closest door handle but Rick directed you towards the other side of the car, making you take the backseat behind the other man - Daryl - you assumed most likely so he could keep a closer eye on you himself.

Daryl unlike Rick was less than welcoming to you. He seemed unsure about all of this, about you and he didn't try to hide it in the look he shot you in the rearview mirror. The look spelt trouble if you tried to make a move and you knew it, shrinking back from his stare. Rick tapped at Daryl's legs, signalling for him to take them down off the dash as he started the car again. 

You rode in silence for a while, never once taking your eyes off the men sitting in the front of the car as everyone seemingly tried to get a reading on the situation. This was an opportunity to show you could be trusted, but you didn't make the mistake of believing this was trust yet. Rick leaned across and said something in a hushed tone to Daryl that you couldn't quite make out. Daryl just grunted in response and dropped the end of his cigarette out of the car window clearly not too happy with whatever Rick had just asked him.

"We got three questions we asked new people," Daryl stated dryly, almost catching you off guard as you realised it was the first time you'd heard his voice since you'd gotten into the car. "First, how many walkers you killed?"

"I've been out here by myself a while, lost count a long time ago." You admitted honestly. At first, each walker you killed had affected you, it felt wrong and you were haunted by the lives you felt you were taking but now, it was the way the world was.

"How many people you killed?" Daryl's second question made you stop for a second. You could tell this was the more important question as he actually tore his gaze away from the road to look back at you in the mirror. It wasn't a question you liked to think about. You didn't like your answer, not anymore.

"Enough." Your answer was blunt but it was the truth and all they needed to know.

"Why?" It was Rick that asked the question this time. His words weren't quite the accusing ones you'd expected, instead, they really did sound curious about your answer.

"It's survival now, ain't it?" You didn't meet either of their gazes in the mirror, instead staring down at your hands. Your skin was stained and your nails caked with dirt and blood. Whether the blood was yours or a walker's you weren't sure anymore and part of you didn't want to know the answer. There was a lot you had done to survive that you weren't proud of. "You got all the answers you need now?"

"We do." Rick nodded his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. You felt your breath hitch as you watched him look over at Daryl, a knowing look passing between them. You really did need this, community was survival, you couldn't make it in this world anymore without people and you were aware of that. Perhaps being with people again would mean you could finally let down your guard and the sharp cage you'd built around your heart. "We'd like for you to come back to Alexandria with us." 

~~~

You would be the first to admit it was a hard adjustment at first, remembering how to live in a proper community again, with families living in their own homes, jobs and a proper sense of security like you'd never had before. Learning to trust again had been the hardest part as the people of Alexandria tried to get you to warm up to them with conversations and kind gifts. It was over three weeks now since you'd first arrived at Alexandria and you were finally making friends. 

With Rick being the one to make the decision to bring you back that first day he took responsibility for you and helped you settle in while he introduced you to everyone. You found quickly enough that you and Maggie were similar in more ways than one and became quick friends along with Glenn. You'd also developed a bond with Michonne as she taught you to use more weapons in place of just your guns.

It seemed everyone was accepting you into the community but there was just one person that it seemed you couldn't win over. Daryl Dixon. No matter what you tried he seemed to keep up that cold front with you. Any conversation you tried to start with him was treated to nothing more than grunts and short answers in response to your questions. Perhaps it wouldn't have mattered quite so much if you weren't assigned to share a house with him at Alexandria which made your tense relationship that much more tricky. 

You didn't think you'd done anything to offend him and he barely put in enough effort to know anything about you that could have made him dislike you. Rick had assured you it was nothing. that Daryl was simply like this with everyone until he warmed up to them but it seemed to be taking him one hell of a long time to warm up to you.

Perhaps things with your living arrangement weren't all bad because there was at least one person in the house that did actually like you which made things more bearable. That "person" was currently spread out asleep at your feet on the porch. You leaned forward in your old rocking chair and lazily scratched behind Dog's ear which earned you a content huff from the big dog. 

You were so occupied with showering attention on Dog that you almost missed the sound of the old wooden steps of the porch creaking under heavy footsteps. You looked up to see Daryl making his way towards the front door with his crossbow still slung across his back. He looked exhausted, his clothes covered with dirt and a splattered of dried blood across his face. No matter what seemed to be going on between the two of you, you were always worried about him when he went out there. The only acknowledgement you got was a quick nod in your direction before he reached for the door handle.

"Rough hunt?" You asked stopping him in his tracks, trying to at least make an effort to start a conversation. You cringed at yourself as it fell silent, thinking he wasn't going to answer. Sometimes you wondered why it bothered you so much what he thought of you.

"Yeah." His answer was short, almost dismissive as always and you could feel your heart sink a little.

"Take a shower, Daryl. Don't get blood on the floor." You sighed deciding to just go back to your book rather than trying to push a conversation any further.

"Whatever." He grumbled as he unlocked the front door and then hesitated for a second, turning back to face you. You looked up at him at first expecting him to say something to you, almost hoping he would but instead, he let out a sharp whistle and patted his chest. In a second Dog had jumped up and bounced towards him, almost knocking him over with the force he jumped at his chest with. "That's a good boy." 

With that he disappeared inside, closely followed by a Dog who was happily wagging his tail at seeing Daryl back home leaving you alone to finish your cup of coffee on the porch. The fading sounds of his praising and affectionate words towards Dog, and the lightness in his tone were one of the few signs he let show of his softer side. Maybe someday you'd actually get a full conversation out of the hardened redneck.

~~~

"You comin'?" You jumped at the sound of Daryl's rough voice behind you almost spilling the mug of hot coffee in your hand as you grabbed at the counter to steady yourself. You thought he'd already left the house that morning to go scavenging with Rick, suddenly caught off guard at his question when you thought you were alone.

"Comin' where?" You asked turning around to face him with a look of confusion. It was rare for Daryl to even spend much time in the same room as you let alone ask you to go somewhere with him. You didn't want to let yourself get hopeful that maybe things were finally changing.

"I mean, you said you was willin' to help keep Alexandria runnin' ain't ya?" There was that usual cutting, argumentative edge to Daryl's voice as he spoke but he looked away from you, shifting on his feet. If you didn't know any better you would say he almost seemed nervous about asking. "Gotta earn your keep 'round here, I'm goin' huntin' you can help."

"Right. Sure yeah, okay." You nodded pouring the last of your coffee down the drain before dropping your mug into the sink. You looked down at yourself, taking in your outfit and decided perhaps your morning casual sweatpants wouldn't be the best for the job. "I'll uh, I'll change and grab my stuff. I'll meet you at the gate?" 

Daryl huffed out his response and nodded, it was about as close as you were going to get to an actual agreement from him. He grabbed his crossbow from its place on the wall and swung it over his shoulder before heading out the front door.

It wasn't like this was your first run, you'd scavenged for yourself long before you found Alexandria and since you'd arrived Rick had taken you out and taught you the best spots. Even Tara and Rosita had taken you with them on a few of their runs but this was your first time properly hunting and tracking with Daryl. He was at the top of the game when it came to tracking and you knew it, part of you was worried you wouldn't be able to keep up.

You changed your clothes into something more fitting the harder terrain of the woods, running over your mental checklist as you made sure you had everything. Securing your knives to your belt you did up the buckle and kneeled down to lace up your combat boots. Lastly, you grabbed your backpack, putting it on before placing your bow over your shoulder. With one final glance around the room, you headed out to meet up with Daryl at the gate.

In the distance, you could see Daryl already waiting by the gate, his bike propped up on its stand as he leaned one foot against it casually. He was playing with the lighter in his hand, a cigarette hanging from his lips as he talked to Rick. It seemed you were walking in on a private conversation as it was quickly cut off the closer you got to them. Rick offered you a warm smile while Daryl's gaze fell to the ground.

 "Right well, you two take care out there. Come back in one piece." Rick nodded, patting Daryl on the back before leaving the two of you alone. 

"What were you talkin' 'bout just there?" You asked noticing the way Daryl stared after Rick still obviously distracted by something he had said.

"Nuthin'." He shrugged, shaking himself out of his trance. He dropped the last of his cigarette to the ground before snuffing it out with the tip of his boot. He gave the bike a once over, making sure everything was secured and then threw his leg over the bike. He steadied the bike, balancing it upright with his own body weight before kicking out the stand. "Get on." 

"You- you want me to ride with you? On your bike?" You stuttered over your words more than you had intended, not wanting to sound nervous as you stared down at the empty space at the back of the bike.

"You plannin' on walkin'? Come on. You afraid or sumthin'?" He cocked an eyebrow at you, the slight grin on his face almost teasing as he waited for your answer.

It wasn't so much that you were afraid, nothing about the idea of motorbikes scared you but it was the idea of sitting so close to Daryl with your arms wrapped around him for support that sent a chill up your spine. Or perhaps spark was more the correct word with the way your heart skipped a beat in a way you hadn't felt in a long time. It was easier to blame it on fear than admit you were scared of what you might find if you looked into that feeling any further.

"No. Nevermind. It's nothin'." You shook your head trying to swallow down your feelings as you followed his lead and climbed onto the back of the bike. You tried to leave as much space between you as you could, resting your hands behind you so you could grab onto the seat hoping the grip your legs had on the bike would be enough to balance you. Before you could react Daryl reached back without even looking and grasped your wrists, pulling them towards him until your arms were wrapped around his waist. The gasped at the sudden movement, the force of it pushing you even further into his back.

"Yer gonna fall off back there. We gotta be back before dark so imma go fast, you gotta hold on tight." He explained letting go of your wrists as you got the message and tightened your grip on him. Once he was sure you were ready he revved the engine, the sign for the gate in front of you to be opened. He didn't even bother to wait for it to open fully, kicking off the bike as soon as there was a wide enough gap for you to finally be speeding down the open road outside of Alexandria.

You steadied your breathing as your eyes fell closed, taking a moment to adjust to the feeling of the bike underneath you. It rumbled over the rough roads, the feeling vibrating up into your legs as the wind whipped your hair into your face. You could understand the appeal of this, why Daryl enjoyed it so much. There was an almost freeing feeling to watching the world pass by so quickly, your focus on nothing but the road in front of you. You finally let yourself relax, trying to enjoy the moment as you leaned more into the hard frame of Daryl's back. There was a cold bite to the wind as it rushed past but the warmth seeping from his body kept you safe from it.

You cursed yourself for even noticing that. You shouldn't be thinking about how warm Daryl felt in any situation, let alone about how the muscles in his stomach flexed under your hands every time he used his weight to guide the bike around a sharp corner. Or how comforting it felt to have your arms around him. You shouldn't be thinking about him like this, you didn't want to be. It made you feel defensive against your own thoughts, fighting with your mind that he meant nothing to you.

You were grateful for the distraction when the bike finally rolled to a stop, letting you sit back as the air fell quiet again when Daryl killed the engine. The spot you'd arrived in was a secluded clearing in the woods and as you listened carefully you heard the gentle flow of a stream just beyond the tree line. It was the perfect place for animals and therefore, a perfect place for hunting them.

You learned quickly that hunting properly was a slow and tedious process, relying on every instinct and sense you had to track the faintest of movements. You spent what felt like hours following Daryl's lead as you tracked deer tracks through the trees, finding nothing more than hoof prints. It was getting late and you were drawing close to giving up if you wanted to make it back to Alexandria in time when you heard a twig snap to your left. You slipped away from Daryl following the noise and then you spotted it, a stag among the trees.

In one quiet, fluid movement you ducked behind a tree, hiding so as to not frighten it. You slipped your bow from your shoulder and carefully lined up your shot, taking the time to focus. You couldn't mess this up. Before you could move your fingers to release your arrow another flew past you. 

You spun around as the arrow landed to see Daryl standing behind you, crossbow still raised as he looked down at the kill. You could feel the start of anger bubbling up in your chest, your hands balling into fists by your side. You were a damn good shot and you'd come all the way out here to prove you could provide for Alexandria just as good as the rest of them only for Daryl to take the kill from you. There was no reason for him to step in.

"What the hell! I had that!" You snapped slinging your bow back over your shoulder with one sharp movement. You weren't going to let this slide.

"You were takin' too long," Daryl said matter of factly, his casual tone serving to piss you off even more. You couldn't stand how dismissive he was being of the whole situation as he moved to walk past you. "Thing woulda just run off."

"Fuck you." You scoffed, your words dripping with weeks of pent-up anger now. "I mean seriously you tell me I gotta earn my keep and then I try just for you to take the chance from me! You won't let me! This is clearly personal what the hell do you have 'gainst me Daryl huh? What did I ever do to you?"

"I don't got nuthin' against you. Lower your damn voice. Now." Daryl barked back but he kept his voice low, never raising in volume. It only worsened your anger as he tried to shut down your words of protest.

"No! It's not fair Daryl! I've tried everything and still-"

"Shut up." This time his words came across as more threatening, it was a warning but you ignored it. You had opened that bottled-up anger and there was no stopping it now. His eyes seemed to be watching something behind you as you ranted, never quite focusing on you as he searched for something.

"I'm not done! You can't just treat me like shit and tell me to shut up and then expect-" Before you could finish your sentence Daryl moved quicker than you could process and your back collided with the solid trunk of a tree. Daryl cornered you, pushing you both into the narrow gap between two trees, his hand clamping over your mouth to silence any further protest from you. You pushed at his chest trying to fight back, not knowing what the hell he thought he was doing.

"Jesus Christ woman, you ever shut the fuck up? Listen." Daryl hissed, leaning in until he talking directly next to your ear. You finally stopped fighting when you felt his hot breath fanning across your skin, the smell of his last cigarette still lingering. You focused, listening to everything around you like he told you to and that's when you finally heard it. The low groans and growls of walkers as they stumbled their way up from deeper in the woods. Judging by the sounds they were closer than you'd realised. "Your damn hissy fit screamin' and shoutin' probably drew more of 'em too." 

It was too late to try and run for it now, the walkers nearly on top of where you were hiding. You both stayed still while they passed by, even the slightest movement risking drawing their attention. Daryl didn't let go of you during the time that passed, his calloused hand still pressed over your mouth, his fingertips grazing your skin. You were pressed so tight together in the gap that you could feel the rise and fall of his chest with each breath and you wondered if he could feel yours too. You didn't dare meet his eyes, not when you were this close.

Once the noise grew distant again and you knew they had moved on enough that you were safe you shoved at Dary, squeezing your way out of your hiding space. You tried to ignore the fact that your heart was now beating in your throat as Daryl stayed still, not moving from where you'd just been as he processed what happened.

"Get off me, Dixon. Let's just grab what we can and go home."

~~~

It was late when you made your way into the kitchen, the only source of light coming from the lamp you'd switched on as you entered the room. Dog let out a whine from where he lay asleep next to the front door at the sudden activity in the room. He was waiting for Daryl to come home and if you were being honest, so were you. He'd left to spend most of the night at Carol's for dinner and you were finding it hard to sleep in an empty house. Even if you were in separate rooms for most of the day there was something comforting about knowing Daryl was still in the house.

You walked over to the sink and poured yourself a glass of water, staring out the window at the night sky. You were pulled from your thoughts - late-night thoughts that you admittedly shouldn't have been having - by the dull thud of something dropping onto the countertop behind you. When you turned around Daryl was standing on the other side of the kitchen island with something wrapped up in parchment paper in front of him. He rubbed the back of his neck, staring at you like he was waiting for a response to something.

"What's that?" You asked furrowing your eyebrows as you stared down at whatever he had brought home, trying to guess what it was based solely on the shape of the package. It was clearly Carols wrapping work as you looked at the neat bow that held it all together in the middle.

"Dunno. Some kind of dessert? Carol made it. Said you'd like it since you didn't get dinner. Guess it's kinda peace offering from me?" He shrugged clearly trying to ignore his own attempt at an apology at the end as he pushed the package towards you. You caught the end of the string and slowly pulled open the paper to reveal what was inside. It was a decorative tin covered in floral designs but then the smell hit you as you cracked open the tin. Inside was a batch of Carol's signature cookies you'd grown to love since you'd arrived here.

"Oh, I love that woman. Peace offering accepted." You let out a dreamy sigh as you leaned forward in your seat and picked up one of the cookies, taking a bite. In that moment you genuinely forgot about every argument you'd had with Daryl as you slowly closed your eyes and chewed the cookie. You let out a satisfied moan at the incredible flavour, at the end of the world it was rare to get something that both tasted good and was home cooked so you savoured everything you did get. 

When you opened your eyes again Daryl was staring at you, there was something different in his eyes as he looked at you now but as soon as you caught him looking he cleared his throat and turned his attention to the piece of string that he now found so fascinating. 

"Try one." You insisted, holding the tin out towards him. He stared at you for a second before cautiously taking one from the tin seemingly examining the ingredients. You leaned your elbows on the counter watching closely as he bit into it and chewed before smiling at his nod of approval.

"It's good." He agreed around the mouthful of cookie. You chuckled as he reached into the tin for another, messily shoving the rest of the one he already had into his mouth, the crumbles falling onto the counter. "Carol sure knows how to bake."

The two of you sat in silence around the tin of cookies for a while, simply enjoying the good food and quiet company before Daryl finally spoke again.

"I meant it the other day ya know, I ain't got nuthin' against you I just- I ain't good at this whole trustin' people thing and I got a shitty way of showin' it. It's been uh, it's been good havin' you here." You smiled warmly at him as he stumbled over his words, clearly struggling to find the right words to say to you. You could see how hard it was for him to even open up this much and you appreciated it more than you could put into words.

"Thank you, Daryl, really. It's been good bein' here too." You said as you reached your hand out and ever so gently and let your pinky finger brush against his hand, not daring anything more than that. He seemed surprised by the contact but he didn't pull away as you'd first expected. Instead, he patted the back of your hand before disappearing off towards his room.

This time you couldn't deny the feelings in the back of your mind or the race in your heartbeat as you watched him leave.

~~~

"Mind if I join ya?" You felt a light tap on your shoulder as Daryl made his way into the room and stopped behind where you were sitting on the couch. A slight smile that you were glad was becoming more common on his face.

"Sure." You agreed with a warm smile, patting the spot next to you on the couch. You chuckled as he made his way around the couch and flopped down next to you with a heavy sigh. You held out the bottle of beer you were sipping on, offering him a drink. You'd found a six-pack of them on your last run and decided to bring them home with you to finally allow yourself to unwind a little at night. Daryl happily accepted the bottle and took a large swig out of it before letting out a hum of approval, a content look on his face. You gestured towards the box of them on the coffee table, still cold from the fridge. "Help yourself."  

Daryl leaned forward and grabbed a bottle, using the corner of the table to pop off the cap despite you having left a bottle opener sitting on the table next to the box. There was something about that precise movement, how swiftly he popped it open that you found incredibly attractive. 

"What's the occasion? Long day?" He asked, looking over at you as he savoured the taste of the beer on his lips. You figured it had probably been just as long for him since he'd found a quiet moment for a drink like this.

"No occasion." You shrugged placing your half-empty bottle down on the table. "We just deserve a break sometimes, don't we? Thought a quiet night in would be nice.

"Now that's my idea of a fun time." Daryl laughed kicking his feet up onto the coffee table. You'd grown to enjoy Daryl's company more than you ever expected. The two of you had come a long way since you first arrived at Alexandria and the cold shoulder he gave you back then. It was moments like these, simply enjoying some quiet time together that made you feel safer than you had since before the world went to shit. Although you'd never admit it out loud, maybe you had begun to develop deeper feelings towards him that were more than platonic.  

Daryl reached forward and placed his bottle down on the coffee table next to yours, the back of his hand brushing against the outside of your thigh as he settled back into his seat. You jumped, your leg flinching away at the feeling, not having expected the sudden contact or the shiver it sent through your body. You tried to play it off, moving your leg back and hoping he hadn't noticed the reaction but judging by the look on his face it was obviously too late. 

"Sorry. Didn't mean to - uh sorry." He mumbled turning his face away from you so you couldn't see the embarrassment from his own awkwardness. You hadn't meant to upset him or make him think he'd done something wrong, you simply hadn't expected your own body to react in the way it did.

"It's okay Daryl." You quickly assured him, your voice soft as you spoke. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat as you tried to find the right words to explain it to him. "It's just- it's been a long time since- never mind."

"Since what?" He urged you on, giving you a curious look.

"I've been alone a lot since this all started, it's been a long time since I've had anyone... touch me like that. Or in any way really." This time it was your turn to hide the blush creeping up your cheeks as you realised what you'd just admitted out loud to Daryl of all people. It felt silly saying those words, you weren't exactly the only one who'd gone through this experience but it seemed to affect you more in moments like these.

He nodded slowly, not saying anything for a moment as he seemed to take in everything you said. His hand shifted across the couch cushion, back towards your leg but this time it was intentional. He hesitated for a second, clearly unsure what your reaction would be, wondering if your confession was an invitation before gently placing his hand on your thigh. He let out a sigh of relief when you didn't immediately pull away from him.

"I get that." His fingertips traced absentminded shapes across your thigh while he spoke, trying to gather the confidence to make his next move. His touch was softer than you'd expected from his usual attitude or the way he'd handled you in the woods. He looked up and met your glassy-eyed gaze, your mind already clouded just by the simplest of touches. You couldn't deny the heat that was spreading out from where Daryl touched you, your breath speeding up with each movement.

Seeing your reaction he pushed forward, letting his hand slide down to the inside of your thigh, tightening his grip and groping at your skin. You let a slight gasp fall from your lips at the feeling and he had to hold back a groan of his own at the noise you made, it was the sweetest damn sound he'd ever heard. And he wanted to spend the rest of the night trying to hear it again. "I want you. I wanna have you like that." 

"Then have me." You breathed out, your voice barely above a whisper as your mind already raced with the possibilities of what was about to happen. Every thought, every feeling you had pushed down over the past few weeks rose to the surface with such a force it almost knocked the air from your lungs.

That was all the permission he needed to surge forward, the hand that wasn't kneading at your thigh grasping your jaw as he pulled you into a bruising kiss. You had never expected to share a kiss like this with Daryl but it was passionate, almost completely overwhelming as you both released weeks of pent of longing. You struggled to catch your breath as his mouth moved against yours turning you on in ways you didn't know were possible. You lost count of how long you stayed like that, neither of you willing to separate for a second as you made out like horny teenagers on the couch.

You could tell it truly had been a long time for both of you as you savoured every moment, your hands roaming across each other's bodies, learning every curve you could reach. Your hands found purchase on the collar of his leather vest, pulling his chest closer to yours while his hands found your waist grabbing at your hips. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip, prying your mouth open as he took complete control of the kiss, his tongue slipping inside your mouth. You could taste the beer on his tongue as he explored your mouth. 

"More, Daryl I need more." You let out a broken gasp as you pulled away from the kiss, tugging him impossibly closer by his vest. You were too far gone now to care how needy you sounded from just a heavy make-out session, all you knew was you needed Daryl unlike you'd needed anyone before. "I need you to touch me please." 

"I gotcha." Daryl nodded, his forehead pressed against yours as his hands slid up from your waist and under the hem of your shirt. His fingers danced across your ribs, lighting your nerves on fire as he started to press kisses all along your jawline. He focused his attention on the corner of your jaw before starting to slowly move down the front of your throat. "Whatever you need I gotcha, just tell me." 

His hands continued to push up your sides, dragging perfectly across your skin before he pulled away from kissing you just long enough to pull your shirt over your head and drop it to the floor next to the couch. He took a moment to appreciate the sight in front of him, his eyes running across your chest and then he leaned in starting exactly where he'd left off. His lips moved downward from your throat to your collarbones until he reached your chest, leaving red marks in his wake as he sucked at your skin.

His hands fell to your waist again and this time pulled you down, manhandling you into an easier position on your back as he kneeled over you. His body caged you in, pressing you into the couch as he towered over you. In any other situation, the concentrated look in his eyes might have intimidated you in this position but it was the hottest thing you'd ever seen. He slid his hands behind your back, making quick work of your bra before it joined the now-growing pile of clothes on the floor.

"Fuck Daryl!" You moaned out, your nails digging into his skin as you grasped at his arms. His hands were on your chest, groping at your breasts while his palms rolled over your sensitive nipples. Your moans urged him on as he pinched your nipples between his fingers before dropping his mouth to your chest, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses across the now-exposed skin of your breasts. You were pretty sure you could get off just like this with the way his tongue dragged across your nipple, his lips closing around it as he sucked hard the feeling pooling between your legs. 

"You trust me?" He asked, his voice even rougher than usual as it grew heavy with lust. You moaned out your agreement your head nodding frantically and he placed a kiss on your stomach, moving lower this time. On instinct, your legs spread wider as you released what was about to happen. "Good 'cus I've been dyin' to eat your pussy."

 Any other time and you might have had the decency to blush at how vulgar Daryl's words were but now, you were turned on beyond belief and all you could think about was how close you were to coming just from hearing them. Daryl took his time, enjoying every moment as his lips ghosted across your stomach leaving dark hickeys on your hip bones but you on the other hand were more desperate. Your hands flew to your pants trying to help things along as you quickly undid the button and zipper moving to push them down.

Daryl grasped your hands and moved them above your head, shifting them to just one hand so he could pin them down to the couch leaving his other hand free to do whatever he wanted. You found the display of his size over you incredibly hot.

Apparently having decided you had waited long enough Daryl made quick work of your jeans and panties, pulling them down in one smooth movement, once they reached your ankles you helped him kick them off not caring where they landed. He settled himself down on the couch lying between your legs as he spread them further apart, taking his time as he slowly dragged his tongue across your skin but never quite where you needed him.

He focused his attention on your thighs again, sucking on the sensitive skin there as he inched forward at a painfully slow pace. Your whimpers were almost turning to begs when he finally had enough and surged forward, his tongue lapping across you. You were soaked between your legs and the second it hit his tongue it was like Daryl was drunk on your taste. His arms came up to wrap around your thighs, spreading your legs even further part so he could reach every inch of you while also pulling you down against his mouth.

There wasn't a single part of you left ignored as Daryl damn near devoured you with his tongue like a starved man. His rough stubble grazed the sensitive skin on the inside of your thighs but you couldn't bring yourself to care about the mark you were sure it would leave in the morning as the slight burn added to the pleasure building in your body.

"Oh god don't stop." You cried out, your wrecked voice barely recognisable to your own ears as you dropped your hand down to bury it in Daryl's hair. He moaned out at the feeling of your nails scratching against his scalp, pulling at the hair at the back of his neck and the low vibration of the noise hit directly on your clit. Daryl was getting off on this just as much as you were, rutting his hips against the couch as he tried desperately to feel you even closer. He dragged his tongue downwards until it dipped inside you, lapping up how wet you were for him. "Fuck I'm- I'm gonna-" 

Your brain switched off, too overtaken with the feeling of your orgasm building to be able to speak as your words trailed off into a high-pitched whine. Daryl doubled down his focus, just wanting to make you feel good as his nose bumped your clit with every movement at this new angle. It didn't take much longer of that pace to make the tension building in the pit of your stomach finally snap. You arched up into his mouth as your head snapped back in a silent scream, your body barely even able to make a noise with the force of it. His hands pinned your hips down again as he slowed his pace but didn't take his mouth off you, coaxing you through your orgasm as he licked up everything he could.

"Holy shit that was incredible." You laughed breathlessly, your heart still hammering in your chest. Your hand moved down from his hair to caress the side of Daryl's face, your thumb rubbing across his cheekbone as he slowly pulled away and looked up at you. His eyes were heavy and hazed over, still basking in the feeling of you coming on his tongue and the taste that still lingered. You had to bite back a whimper at the sight of his beard still glistening with your wetness.

"You taste like heaven Darlin'." Daryl grinned pushing himself up on his elbows as he leaned in to kiss you. You could taste yourself on his tongue as he licked at your bottom lip. There was something about the way that pet name sounded in his southern accent that had you desperate for him again already. As you ran your hands down his chest you started to grow increasingly frustrated at the fact that he still had all of his clothes on while you were lying naked on the couch. You tugged at his leather vest before starting to push it back over his shoulders.

"Take it off. Please?" You mumbled, your mind already running wild with the thought of what he was hiding underneath those clothes. You'd already found yourself on multiple occasions staring at how muscular his arms were in those short-sleeved shirts and you could only imagine his chest would be just as incredible.

He sat back and let the vest fall the rest of the way down his arms before reaching to undo the buttons of his black shirt. His hands seemed to slow as he reached the bottom buttons, almost hesitantly and when his shirt finally fell open you understood why. What you could already see of his chest and shoulders was littered with scars and you were sure his back would be different. There were years worth of stories written across his skin, some faded enough that you guessed they predated the fall of the world. Some scars you recognised as the circular marks of a bullet wound but others were longer, thinner, more precise, purposeful. When you looked back up at him there was something different in his gaze, he looked almost ashamed of his scars.

"You're perfect Daryl." You whispered wanting him to know you meant every word of it as you pressed your lips to the scar that ran along his collarbone. Slowly you slid your hands under his shirt pushing it the rest of the way off. Your hands ran down over his back, feeling the raised skin of each scar under your fingertips as you went. You took your time, pressing kisses to each scar across his chest as you worshipped his body. His arms wrapped around your waist as you did, his face buried in your hair. Eventually, your hands worked their way down to the waistband of his pants, reaching the belt buckle. "Do you want this?"

"'Course I do." Daryl nodded pulling away from you again to capture your mouth in a heated kiss, it was messy as you tried to keep up with him, your hands working on his belt and zipper. You were so lost in the way his kiss made your head spin as you gasped for air that you barely noticed as he sat up and kicked his pants to the side. He helped moved you onto your back again and leaned over you, his erection pressing against your leg as he moved closer. "You feel what you're doin' to me now?"

"Yes, please, Daryl fuck me please." You cried out your nails scratching down his back as you looked between your bodies and saw how big he was, painfully hard just for you. Your hands trailed around his waist and down his stomach, moving over his happy trail until you lightly grazed the base of his cock. He groaned at the feeling and touched your wrist, stopping you before you could make him come before he even got to feel you. He sat back and settled between your legs, pumping himself before he lined up and pushed into you.

You whimpered at the feeling of him stretching you out and he wasn't even all the way in, he was bigger than you were used to and it had been a long time since you'd had anything inside you. The end of the world didn't exactly leave much room for self-pleasure and even before it, it had been a long time. He waited for a minute, gently hushing you as he let you adjust to him before he moved your leg over his hip. He pushed forward again, this new angle letting him slide all the way in.

"Fuck yer tight." He growled, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he pulled almost all the way out before thrusting back in. You couldn't form a coherent thought anymore, not with the way he hit the perfect spot inside of you. His name was the only thing you could manage among the slurred swears and moans that fell from your lips as he thrust into you.

His own voice was becoming strained, moaning in your ear as he held you as close as he could, his hips rutting against you. You could tell it wouldn't take long for you to come again with the increasingly rough pace he was setting but you tried to hold out, not wanting the feeling to end. Your body was already on edge from your earlier orgasm and your muscles burned as you tried to move your hips to meet Daryl thrust for thrust.

Instead, he pinned your hips against the couch once again and left you at his mercy, unable to move to change the pace. His thrusts were getting harder, his hips snapping against you as he lost himself in the feeling. He was just as desperate as you were, needing every second of this but knowing he was drawing close to his orgasm, not far behind you. He was determined to make you come again before he did. 

He brought one hand down between your bodies and pressed his thumb against your clit, brushing over it with every thrust. You let out a guttural moan at the feeling, your eyes rolling back as you tried to grab onto anything you could to ground yourself. Knowing even the slightest touch would send you over the edge like this Daryl dropped his mouth to your chest again and the sudden feeling of his teeth grazing across your nipple had you coming in seconds. 

"Daryl! Oh- fuck- ah-" You whined out not able to form a whole sentence as your whole body tensed, your hands grabbing at the back of his neck as you clung to him. You rode out your orgasm barely able to tell where it ended as you spasmed around Daryl who kept thrusting into you through it all.

It wasn't long until the force of your orgasm and your breathy moans in his ear became too and his movements stuttered, his thrusts slowly as he collapsed on top of you, coming deep inside of you. Your mind was too clouded from two of the best orgasms of your life to think about the consequences of him coming inside you right now.

You both stayed like that for a moment, clinging to each other with Daryl buried inside you. You were panting, trying to regain your breath as he slowly pressed kisses to your collarbone, his face once again finding its way to the crook of your neck. Your skin was sticky with sweat but he didn't seem to care as his heavy breaths fanned across your neck. He slowly pulled out of you and collapsed down onto the couch next to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders so he could pull you onto his chest.

"That was so worth the wait." You giggled hiding your flushed face in his chest as you came down from your high.

"Definitely." He agreed pressing a kiss to the top of your head as he brushed your hair out of your face. "Maybe it doesn't have to be the last time?"

Taglist: @azanoni

[misrepresentedmorallygrey]

PROPAGANDA

Rose Quartz Propaganda

"We saw her character arc in reverse!! We first saw all the good she did and then learned of her terrible actions in the past. If her story was told the other way around, it would have been a great redemption arc. Yes, she did some terrible things, but she had no choice. She did everything she could to stop the colonization of earth peacefully buy nothing worked. Blue and yellow diamond just didn't listen to her and when they did, THEY were the ones who made the zoo and shit. Rose wanted to free them but couldn't get to them after the war! And with the corruption, there's no way she could have known that'd happen. There's so many things she wanted to do but just couldn't. And with spinel, yes it was shitty to leave her alone for so long, but again, between running her court, running the rebellion, dealing with earth, she likely wasn't a very high priority and like with the zoo, there was no way to get to her after the war since the galaxy warp was destroyed. And don't forget, she was practically a child around this time. You're saying you didn't do any stupid, selfish, or harmful things as a kid? She learned from her experiences and grew, we just saw that growth in reverse, leaving us as viewers with a poor perception of her."

"Rose Quartz is Steven Universe’s dead mom. Initially, she’s set up as sort of an ethereal perfect figure who everyone misses and compares him to. Later we get to see more of her backstory and discover that she’s actually like, a person, with flaws, who has done some bad things, but she did those bad things largely in the course of trying to escape an abusive home life and save the people and planet that she fell in love with. It’s very clear that despite her flaws she was trying to do the right thing and that she deeply cared about others. Unfortunately, a woman who was not a Perfect Martyr was way too much for the Steven Universe fandom to handle. She pretty much set off the wave of SU crit blogs because these people were furious either that she had taken violent measures to solve her problems, that she hadn’t taken violent enough measures to solve her problems, or both somehow. Lots of “Why didn’t she just murder her abusive parental figures?” Lots of “She was evil for having a baby even though she knew she’d die in childbirth!” Lots of “She should’ve been able to protect everyone from a magic nuclear weapon with the power of love somehow.” Lots of “She shouldn’t have rebelled (even though not rebelling would’ve meant the destruction of Earth) because her abusers retaliated and that’s her fault.” LOTS of people drawing her as stick thin even though she was fat in the show. People treated her like she was on the same level or even worse than her abusive parental figures who were also the main villains of the show. It was unbearable to witness."

Katara Propaganda

"She's smart. She's powerful. She an eco-terrorist. She's got the ability to grow as a person. She's a victim of misogynistic fans who codify her as an annoying bitch (sadly not affectionate) cause she's the "mom character." And that's all she will ever be is "The mom character." She bested Azula and could blood bend your ass but won't cause she's chosen not to be a monster! But she's the annoying mom instead."

"if i have to hear ONE MORE *touches necklace* joke i’m gonna mcfreaking lose it"

"despite being one of the most well-written feminist characters of children’s TV, the fandom decides to define her based on her very realistic 14-year-old girl flaws. Ignoring her complex independent arcs and motivations, people love justifying their hatred towards her based on her one line directed at Sokka that he didn’t love his mother as much as she did. Which, if we’re being nitpicky, isn’t so harsh given that it was Katara who shouldered most of the burden of her death, as well as Sokka’s admittance that he doesn’t even remember his mother. Not to mention that ALL the characters make selfish mistakes given the fact that they’re all aged 12-15??? (Aang hiding Katara and Sokka’s father’s letter, anyone???) She really is an elegant breakthrough of the typical female character molds of “girl who is badass” and “girl with a crush on the mc who sits on the sidelines” and it’s so frustrating to see her get the most hate out of the Gaang"

Mabel Pines Propaganda

"[insert "i am 12 years old" comic]"

"You probably already know about this but back when the series was airing people were really pissed at Mabel because she was supposedly selfish. Yeah ok guys asking for a fucking megaphone to help a merman find his family was TOTALLY unreasonable. Dipper giving up one (1) "date" with a girl way older than him to save Mabel's pet was SO not worth it. (This is sarcasm btw. Side note a lot of these have to do with Dipper's crush on Wendy which is a whole other discussion.) And then there's the big one. Mabel causing Weirdmageddon. What people fail to realize with this is that 1) she was extremely stressed when she handed Bill the rift 2) she was tricked by Bill, a being that is A MASTER AT TRICKING PEOPLE, into thinking that she was being handed a magic solution to what felt like the end of the world to her, and 3) she was TWELVE. Not to pull out the "she is literally neurodivergent and a minor" card but do you really expect a 12 year old who's just been told that she's gonna have to face a big and difficult transition WITHOUT her brother who's been there for her all her life to make a rational decision? Y'all seriously fell for Bill's empty words in Sock Opera. Absolute bufoons. You would not survive Weirdmageddon."

"Oh wow, a preteen girl under extreme distress acts like a preteen girl under extreme distress. Whoda thunk?"

[shinxeysartgallery]

How we feeling now that murder drones is ending?

I think it's so unfair that glitch is cancelling murder drones cause tadc is much more profitable like damn I thought they were better than this

To be fair, we never explicitly had a Season 2 confirmed and I don't think it's fair to blame TADC over it getting cancelled. From what I can tell, it seems like GLITCH and Liam both planned on there being a Season 2 at some point, but we also don't know what's happened behind the scenes. ANYTHING could've happened.

Maybe they didn't get greenlit for a Season 2? Even if they have enough funding and support from the fans for it, they can't move forward without that green light.

There's not enough funding or other resources for them to realistically work on a Season 2 right now. They're also working on TADC and the new Gaslight District and have also just now picked up helping Lackadaisy with funding. Pretty sure at least some of the GLITCH crew works on the main SMG4 channel's stuff as well. That's a LOT to work with from such a small company! It might be a case of they bit off more than they could chew. This could also indicate that it's a temporary thing, but they don't want to get peoples' hopes up in case they can't give us the coveted Season 2.

Liam could be feeling burnout and wants to work on something else. I believe Murder Drones is his longest running series, and it's been in production for at least 4-ish years, counting the Pilot episode. He could've very well lost motivation or be suffering from burnout in that amount of time!

The main series is ending, but it's because they're planning on doing something else with Murder Drones (such as a sequel or spinoff) instead of a Season 2. Up until about when Episode 7 dropped, the Murder Drones playlist was labeled "Season 1" and Liam has said in a past AMA that he planned on there being a Season 2 at some point. He could've discussed his plans for Season 2 with GLITCH and they collectively decided that a spinoff/sequel/etc. would be a better fit for Liam's ideas!

Those are just a few scenarios that could have caused its ending; it's not necessarily a "hurr durr we wanna ditch literally everything else we're working on because TADC gives the monies" situation. Obviously, unless Liam himself or someone actually from GLITCH comes out and makes a statement about it, we don't know for sure why or what caused it. But again, I think it's incredibly unfair to blame TADC over it.

As for my feelings on its conclusion though? Bittersweet. I'm so excited to see what Liam's got planned for the finale and I know it's going to be epic; it'll be so cool getting to see everything come to an end! But at the same time, I'll be sad 'cause it's over. No more excitedly waiting and wondering what's going to happen in the next episode or wondering how the current one's cliffhanger is going to resolve. Buuuut that doesn't mean it's the end! There's still a chance we could get more official Murder Drones content, but even if we don't we've got fanworks! This fandom is one of the most passionate ones I've been in and I don't think it's going anywhere any time soon, even if we never get another official piece of content.

Personally, I'm going to keep working on my AU and keep drawing my drones. The show ending isn't going to stop me! >:D

(Also lowkey is kinda good because after this episode, I don't have to worry about the next episode completely destroying some of my lore again. lol)

[luminecho]

An acquaintance once stopped me on my way to class.

"Are you happy?" he asked me.

"What, just like, in general?" I said, confused.

"Yeah, just in general."

And it's not exactly the sort of existential question you're expecting to have dropped on you at 11 am on a Wednesday. And it was actually my birthday that day, but he didn't know that and it didn't feel super relevant so I didn't mention it. But the question itself made me stop and think after.

Because it's this question that gets asked of us so often in life. Are you happy with where you are now? Do you think you'll be happy in the future? You were so happy when you were a kid. What changed?

And I think when you start to get into adolescence and adulthood, it becomes expected of you to not be happy. Because that's the sort of society we live in today. It's so damn hard to be happy. And it shouldn't be. But it is. Happiness is like this fleeting thing way off on the horizon that people constantly grasp for, and we all do things in desperation to finally reach it, and maybe it works for some and maybe it doesn't for others.

I don't know if the typical college student is happy or not. But I do know that I don't really consider myself the typical anything, and one thing I pride myself a lot in is that I have a very strong understanding of exactly who I am and where I am in life. I'm at a school that I like taking classes that I enjoy. I have a bunch of friends who I love, and maybe they're all online and far away from me but that's okay. I have a bunch of hobbies that I love doing and a bunch of interests that I share with others and each day they bring me a little bit of enjoyment.

So, in that moment, I didn't even really need to think before replying.

"I am," I said with a smile.

And my acquaintance turned to the friend beside him.

"See?" he said, "I told you!"

I chuckled to myself and walked away.

But I couldn't stop thinking about it. Because like... what were they talking about? The scenario I found myself crafting in my head was one where this friend of his was saying that most people these days aren't happy. And maybe they're right. But that doesn't mean no one is happy. And that doesn't mean you can't find happiness. It's out there. It's out there in the little things. In the smiles of strangers and in the soundless laughter of text conversations, in music and poetry and art and the hot lights of a stage. It's in butterflies landing on flowers just beside you, and taking the time to stop and admire it for several minutes even though you know you're missing your bus because somehow the butterfly is just so much more important.

And I think my favorite part is that not only did I get to prove to a stranger that day that happiness exists, but I also got to prove it to myself, both in the past and in the future.

Because what if I had been asked that question a few years ago? In the middle of a pandemic, stuck at home attending high school in front of a computer, feeling like I'm drowning because I don't have the motivation to do my work and the one hobby I've held onto so dearly, drawing, feels like it's slipping through my grasp and I just can't enjoy it anymore and it's this real grief that's weighing me down. Telling my therapist that I wasn't sure who I was yet because I felt like this walking contradiction who longed for things I was too afraid to act on. Would I have said I was happy, then? I don't know.

And what about in the future? When any number of possibilities could happen. Will I say that I'm happy, or will I be stuck in a rut and not know the answer?

I didn't have a good birthday. Some days I'm stressed more than others. Sometimes I get overwhelmed, sometimes I feel like the world is caving in on me.

But the question wasn't, "Are you happy right now?" It wasn't a "How are you doing today?" or a "How's your morning?"

The question was, "Are you happy?"

"In general?"

"Yeah. In general."

And even if today is hard, tomorrow may be better. And if tomorrow is hard too, then you have countless weeks ahead of you that will look different and brighter than they did before.

I'm happy. I'm not happy every second of every day, because no one is. But that's not what "general" happiness looks like. General happiness is just... being satisfied with where you are now. Being comfortable in the new and unfamiliar experiences you're sitting in. And being comfortable with knowing it's all going to change soon.

Happiness is real. And if you don't have it now, then it's still out there, waiting with open hands.

And I just think that's neat.

[tumanlll]

Something happened last night that I couldn't even dream of. There are 100 of you gathered in my warm corner of creativity, silence and fog…

To be honest, when I created this blog, I didn't know where to go. I've been trying to develop on Instagram and Vkontakte for a long time, but I've been developing very slowly, bursts of activity have been rare, which just allowed me to improve my skill.

However, here.. At first, I was in the shadows and drawing for myself, I didn't hope for any audience, when suddenly something changed, and I had you. Those who, with every response to my work, kindled the fire of creativity in me, lit sparks in my eyes, pushed me to new ideas and concepts. I was able to try something new for myself, thanks to you and your support, I entered a new stage of progress in my style. I was in the art block for a whole year after I held an exhibition of paintings in my city, after that I stopped painting because I fell out of life and was busy with my studies, personal life and work, but my hands remember everything…. You can't imagine how you support me…I have never seen such activity in the field of my creativity. I feel like I can do more than that. I also want to say the same sincere thanks to those whom I managed to find on this network. My friends (you know who I'm talking about). Your work, mutual desire in communication, the words that you say, you awaken inspiration and motivation in me incredibly strongly. You have become important people to me in my soul.

It's been a long time since I've been so immersed in creativity… It's been so long since I've felt so complete. My hands can't do without drawing, so I started working hard, creating, and still haven't given it up for a long time thanks to you.

I'm not fully used to hearing warm words yet, I fall into a stupor every time or hang over the monitor for a while, but I'm sure I'll react like the first time every time, because for me it's something special, valuable.

I will continue to work hard to improve my skills, please you and evoke vivid emotions, I love you very much and kiss everyone on the forehead 🫶

[blueneil]

Maybe, just maybe, i fell too hard on Sanosuke...

Feels weird since i'm not new into otome game, as i play it since around 10 years ago (the shall we date addiction got me). And i never catch any feelings for any character before, i just love doing story and put myself in the MC's shoes.

But for Sanosuke i actually like him as me myself, not me placing myself as MC/Chizuru, and i thinkkkkk MAYBE just MAYBEEE i fell way too hard that now its hard to even control myself 😭💔 Feeling crazy since idk i can feel like this to a 2D character.

Sometimes i ask myself what makes him different from any character that i know before? I play a lot joseimuke, read a lot manga, watch a lot anime, but yet its only him who make me like this???

I really want to put him on chokehold and ask what did he do to me, becuaze this is the character i fell in love with ???!?👇

And fuck me for thinking he is attractive even in theis set of pictures...

Jokes on me because everytime my mind tried to dragged him down, the single of his smiling picture makes butterflies fly in my tummy.

Just a sneak of how "bad" i fell for him, i stop drawing since 2018 for reasons, and going back in 2021 but never really got motivation of it UNTIL Sanosuke Harada is taking my mind, living rent free for 24/7 that i can't control myself then boom, i did canon x oc pairing with him in SSL -verse (my heart is not ready for making bakumatsu oc's lore,,,).

And because i craved for their content i don't have any choice but to draw them by myself.

This is just one of it since in the last 6 months i already make 10s art of him and my oc??? Which didn't sounds much but it is way more than i draw in the last 3 years 😭 I know its a good thing that i get my passion in drawing again, but still??? What did he DO to me honestly??

I want him to smile at me, i want to hug him, i want to kiss him, i want to be able do much things with him even if i 100% realize he is not exist. Thats why i draw and make oc to be come my 2d persona and able to live in the same dimensions as him. I know this is weird but i can't stop...

Do you think i need help? I really never feel this much before for 2d character 😭 He is really taking over my mind for almost a year since i get into hakuouki, and its just getting worse by day 😭

[ozwuv]

If I have hand pains (as artists get) what’s should I do? Do you recommend any exercises?

hmmm so i don't get hand pains necessarily, but i did damage my ulnar nerve pretty badly end of 2019-2020 from the oz fanbook grind lol. this led to a constant, dull pain in my dominant arm and persistent numbness in my hand. for a long time, i couldn't hold a pencil at all and to this day my grip is pretty weak. i remember when acnh came out in march 2020, i cried out of frustration constantly bc my grip was so lax i couldn't play.

that said, i'm speaking from experience when i say that taking advice on stretching techniques i found online made things way, way worse for me because it exacerbated the nerve damage i didn't know i had until i saw a doctor. the wrong kind of stretches can be more damaging than helpful if you're not doing them correctly, and especially if you have some kind of underlying issue that would be counterproductive for. the same thing goes for wrist braces and such -- a lot of people recommend them, but the wrong kind of brace can damage you further, and you should not be constantly wearing a brace unless a medical professional has told you to; constant usage of braces weakens your muscles over time because the brace prevents you from actually using them. if you have the means for it, i would really recommend consulting a physical therapist for preventative care.

but i didn't have access to medical care for a long time, so i get that's not feasible for everyone. if that's you, basic harm reduction guidelines are good to keep in mind. these are going to be things you've undoubtedly heard before, but they're drilled into your head for good reason:

take breaks. set a timer for every ~30-60 min and every time it goes off, get up, walk around, flex your hands and wrists, etc. ideally at least 10 minutes.

keep plenty of water within arm's reach at all times. hydration manages/prevents pain more than you might think. as soon as my grip gets too slack, i know that i need to stop drawing and drink a ton of water, but you should be drinking fluids at a semi-constant rate so you don't get to that point.

if you're in pain, stop drawing. no "i'll just wrap up the lines and then stop" -- listen to your body. if you're hurting, you've already pushed it too far and anything more is just going to make it worse.

posture posture posture -- any kind of posture advice for office workers generally applies to drawing.

^if you use a screen tablet (like cintiq or ipad) it's going to be virtually impossible to maintain good posture without buying a tablet arm or something. in cases like that, you should place even more of an emphasis on harm reduction or maybe even consider switching to an analog tablet so your monitor is at eye level. personally i'm in it for the longhaul with my ipad though lol

unfortunately advice like this kinda sucks for ppl with ADHD (meee) because pausing in the middle of something can cause you to become distracted or lose motivation. i don't really have a solution for that, but ultimately i got to the point where the nerve damage was so bad that i solidified these habits to prevent making it worse. i do get distracted and lose motivation a lot, but i did that to myself by not treating my body with the care it deserved.

if you take one thing from this response, let it be this: if you don't already experience chronic pain and/or nerve damage while drawing constantly without taking necessary precautions, it's not a matter of "if" you develop these issues, but "when". if you don't already have chronic pain from drawing, your goal right now should not be to preemptively look into things to remedy it, it should be seeking to prevent these issues altogether. work in some good habits, even if it's just taking breaks every now and then. even just one break per drawing is better than no breaks at all. i thought i was immune to these issues for over a decade & then i developed arthritis in my upper vertebrae at 20 years old lol nobody is immune i prommy<3

[feiandart]

Posting 'em here again just to boost a bit my motivation today. I made 'em back in december, one of the first drawing I have ever made for myself only.

Will talk 'bout myself and my past from here, can skip it if you don't want my oversharing shit.

So. I used to work as a commission artist for years (5-6 if I'm not wrong), drew bit of anything you could think of and mainly sticked to NSFW art for most of my, uh, let me call that "carreer" even if it's probably the wrong term to use for it. Well, it paid my bills and rent for years, so we may stick to it anyway.

Thing is, I stopped drawing when I was eighteen. People, family first, always told me talent in art was all, practice would never have made it better and I should have kept it as a hobby rather than something to do as a job. Apart from my closest friends, no one encouraged me to practice and study and put real effort on it. I went to an art-based highschool (only because I couldn't focus on studying any subject, and art school is considered one in which you don't actually study at all here, so my parents thought it better to put me there as I wanted "so you can still graduate"), but I couldn't go ahead with art studies in professional comic schools, academies or any artistic department in university. No support on that front. Something like "be Caravaggio or be nobody" mindset was stuck into my head and I started actually believing that it was true. And since I was, and am not, Caravaggio, then what was the point? So I dropped the pencil and just forgot how to draw a fuckin' line for literal years.

Then I turned 22. I moved to another city for my studies. After completing 'em, my parents said me to come back home and I said no. They stopped paying anything for me since that moment, so I had to make things works on my own. Hopefully my rent was really low, so I could afford it with minimum effort, but had to buy groceries with coupons (not a common thing in Italy) and eat a lot less to make 'em last as much as possible. I found a job in a call-center, I cleaned houses and handed flyiers to people. And that's when I found out I cannot really be in social context for too long.

In the end I burned out, left all jobs and was stuck in bed for a month. I was barely 24, without a job, holding tight the little bit of freedom I ever got. I felt helpless and hopeless. I don't remember if my bestfriend or my housemate, but one of 'em said me to come back at drawing and givin' it a shot. What harm could that do afterall, could have been pocket money for a bit if it couldn't stick to something better.

I started from pencil. Then went to digital in a couple months. I practiced, started quite immediately taking commissions and honest to God I don't have the slightest clue of how someone whould spend money on some shit I drew without basic anathomy knowledge and after that much time without drawing. Still have no idea. So I drew. I made some quick animations, never did much there thought. Grew a little fanbase, went on with it for years. I even moved with my bestfriend, living with her alone for two years, got a cat I love that it's my actually support companion right now.

I felt happy for a bit, I believe. Imposter syndrome is always watching me afterall, that never stopped. It's just like there's another person in the room with me all day, whispering me I should do more 'cause I don't deserve any attention. Ugh.

However. I went on with that until 2023. I had to come back to my parent's house in 2022 and got stuck in here since then. Nightmare years. Still a nightmare period, but I'm managing. Thing is, past year I burned out so much I completed all my left commissions in a rush and actually dropped my tablet for months. I used it as a third screen, took away the pen and the glove and swore I would never ever be back at drawing again. Will not go into details of what triggered that burnout, but you got the point, I didn't want to draw again in my life at that time.

This is pretty much when Good Omens entered the room. It was late September, I saw a lot of videos on tiktok and since I watched S1 years ago, I decided to give it a shot to S2 too. It was an istant hyperfocus. Watched all over for weeks, both in italian, in english, in english with italian subs and english with english subs. Never done anything like that in my life before. By the end of October I came back at writing. So I started to arrange things for Up&Down, my first fic after uhm, like 15 years or so. And it felt so good! I went through 42 days of deep writing, posting a chapter a day just for myself. 'cause I wanted to write something I liked for the sole purpose of liking it. And it felt so liberating!

Then I thought: will this apply to drawing too, maybe?

Answer is YES. It did. I was inspired from the fandom, from MrGhostRat's art and Gleafer's, and started drawing again. I dug into english fanfictions, fandom artists I love, and the list just gets longer day by day. I started writing Sugar, and with it I started drawing illustrations for it.

I went from the image to the left to the one to the right in two months. Guys, I'll repeat it: TWO MONTHS. I never had such a quick improvement in years, practicing every fuckin' day, drawing my hands out of my bloody body. I drew for 5-6 years and never got to improve this much. I did now. And you know why?

'cause I started drawing for myself. I'm doing something I love. And I'm getting better at it.

And you know what? I'm quite angry now. 'cause if I didn't stop years ago, who knows where I could have been now. If I didn't listen to people saying me "be Caravaggio or be nobody", I could have done so much more by now. Maybe I could have been able to draw fuckin' furnitures by now. Maybe I would have started being able to draw the same face two times in a row years ago insted of now.

Maybe I could have been the comic artist I wanted to be. Maybe not the best in the world, but I don't fuckin' care of being the best one, I want to be one I'm proud of. I didn't get the chance 'cause out there is full of people without a dream who's only purpose in life is destroying other people hopes.

And you know what? I'm done with that. I'm done with people saying me I'm not a gifted child. I'm done with people coming at me saying I cannot do shit I love 'cause they have reason to make me do something different. People thinks to know what's good for me but I'm fuckin' 30 and I think I know it pretty well already, thank you very much.

I'm managing how to get hold of my choices and things I love now that I'm an adult, but dear Lord I keep on thinking of my young self and I want to hug that poor thing so much I can't explain. I'd love to say her everything's going to be hard, but good in some way. That things are difficult, but they will change. That people are shit, but she should be strong and fight back. 'cause I did it too late and I regret now, but she deserved better.

You deserves better. And I'm talking to anyone who's reading this. I don't know if you went all the way 'til here, but if you did: don't make my same mistakes. You know better than me. Don't let people spoil the things you love, don't give 'em power to destroy your will and put you in a closet for the time being. You don't deserve that.

Don't miss your chance 'cause people doesn't want to see you happy to be yourself. Don't do that. They don't deserve that power over you.

Love yourself more than I loved myself. I'm starting just now and it's hell. You can do better, I promise.

[malachitebeck]

SPOILERS FOR DOCTOR WHO: THE GIGGLE (Also, Spoilers, I get a little serious and introspective under here. Shit's a bit of an essay.)

I will be the first to admit I have not engaged with Doctor Who as a franchise in a good few years. I stopped watching the series regularly around the end of Matt Smith's run, and while I tried to engage with Jodie Whittaker's season, the confusing release schedule meant that I lost that motivation and quickly let go.

But when I saw the initial trailers for these three anniversary specials, I will admit they likely had the exact effect on me they were probably meant to; drawing me, a wandering former fan, like a moth back towards the flame of the series as it was entering a new era of streaming partnerships and a boosted budget.

And while I enjoyed the first two specials and actually found them to be rather nostalgic in their own way, the ending of the third special has left an admittedly poor taste in my mouth that I can't sit with quietly. I usually don't make posts like this, but there's a first time for everything right?

I will admit, first and foremost, that The Giggle was not the story I had expected going in. I didn't know a lot about the Classic Episodes (or, well, episode) the Toymaker was coming from, and as a result was swept up in an intriguing fan fervor that posited the episode was going to take on a kind of meta-textual horror; addressing the fires that destroyed the film reels of the majority of the episodes in an in-universe fashion, depicting the Toymaker as this haunting entity the Doctor was struggling to remember.

Suffice to say the episode was not that. But I am not sitting down to write all of this simply because the episode took on a more... stale commentative approach to the internet and social media that didn't live up to the version I had constructed in my head. The creative team was never under any obligation to do so, obviously.

I'm writing this because of Ncuti Gatwa.

For a brief moment, when the characters were out on the helipad(?) of the UNIT building, I had what I thought was an epiphany. "This has been about Ncuti all along," I thought, "this approach to talking about internet discourse is a bit stale, sure, but allegorically it's trying to critically talk about the response to Ncuti's casting. Surely that's why they took this angle, it just didn't stick the landing."

I thought this because the regeneration was happening right at the climax of the Toymaker's speech about why he loved humanity and our worst "21st century" aspects, and because Mel, in the moment the Doctor was regenerating, took the time to hold his hand, smile, and remark that "all of your faces are fantastic."

In that moment, I tried to give the series the benefit of the doubt. I tried to believe that, while clumsy, they were teeing up the start of Gatwa's era by holding up a mirror to their own fanbase, trying to coax them into reflecting on the vitriol that they put him through, especially in the British Press and on social media.

But then the Doctor didn't regenerate. He Bi-Generated.

Immediately the common trope of the regeneration is tossed on its head. Gatwa and Tennant were on screen, together- defeating the Toymaker as a triumphant pair. Rather than going through the motions I was accustomed to in every regeneration I had seen previously, where the new Doctor is alone, adjusting sharply to their circumstances and needing to struggle for a moment to get their feet back under them before ultimately still winning the day and establishing themselves as as capable as they ever were; Gatwa was not only not alone, but was immediately being depicted as if he had simply always been there, not questioning the position he was in, not needing time to recover, just. Moving. Going.

But I thought perhaps this was just going to be fleeting. The concept of Bi-Generation being a myth of the Gallifreyan people and thus fair game to be invoked by the energy the Toymaker exuded was hastily explained, and since it had apparently never happened I thought there would be drawbacks, side effects. I was quickly constructing a reasonable way the show could still give Gatwa his space, his moment.

Then the fight ended. Tennant was still standing, triumphant and fine, and looked to be utterly unchanged. Still the Doctor in every physical aspect. He's being comforted, even, by Gatwa- the newly formed Doctor, usually the one reeling, is painted as being so utterly fine that he's able to be the shoulder 14 can use to lean on.

I continue to try to make excuses. As the scene in the TARDIS begins, sure I find it jarring that the 15th Doctor is comforting the 14th on mental health struggles he should reasonably also have, but they are trying to construct an out for Tennant. They've never done this before, but it's clearly setting up a kind of retirement- they want to give Tennant a unique sendoff, want to give the character a permanent resting place in the form of one final "adventure", the adventure of a normal human life with Donna.

But then Ncuti grabbed the fucking hammer. And it all started to sink in for me.

Not only was the 14th Doctor not gone, but he was still in a relatively vague position in the story. The final scene of him in the garden is nice, in theory, but the TARDIS, his own copy of the TARDIS that he magically had made for him, is quite literally looming in the background- reminding the audience that this is all potentially fleeting. Rose and Mel joke about 14 breaking his promises to slow down by sneaking away to take them on small adventures, and it just utterly hit me in that moment, that someone at the BBC, someone responsible for writing or maintaining Doctor Who as a titan of British Popular Culture, did not trust Ncuti Gatwa.

Because even if the fan response to this decision that I have seen thus far online has been positive, it's positive for a reason, and I am being kind when I say this, that I find disheartening. There are excited thoughts about what Tennant might get to do in the near future; thoughts of a potential UNIT series where he gets to star, appearances in the main series, his own spin-off as The Doctor.

But that's just it, isn't it? He's still the Doctor. In every way he is still there, in the universe. For now we are shown the character is at rest, has found peace, but even he admits that he doesn't think it will last, and neither does Donna, the other person supposedly trying to convince him to slow down and heal.

In the long tradition of the role of the Doctor, a tradition being commemorated through this very string of episodes, the role has been treated in a way like principal characters in a Broadway show. Each actor gets a special night to enter into the spotlight, the chance to make it their own for as long as they wish, and a fond sendoff the moment they decide they're ready for something else. The actors are not crossing paths, not really- not unless it is in a format meant to highlight their times in the role, something predicated on the idea that each of them, as independent beings who occupied it for a certain unique amount of time, are worthy of their proverbial flowers in their own right. They each make up the long canon of the role, but were each, individually, allowed to play it all on their own.

In this metaphor, Ncuti Gatwa has been double billed. In a history of this role being occupied by one actor, one at a time, he is the only one who is entering it with the previous actor still lingering- waiting in the wings, ready to be summoned on stage at any moment should the producers decide it would make things more interesting. He is not being trusted to carry the role on his own merits, intentionally or not. He, the first black man to ever occupy this role, is having the rules changed on him- and is acting out a story wherein his character is happy to accept that fact, is the one to grab the cartoon mallet from the floorboards and break the TARDIS in two, literally severing every iconic aspect of the character he should be allowed to embody all on his own into another person, who is literally handed a tool by the narrative to crop back up whenever he'd like.

In the scene on the helipad of the UNIT building, I thought I had had an epiphany. I thought what I was watching was an allegorical condemnation of an aspect of the fanbase that had refused to accept any actor who wasn't white occupying such a famous role in British Television history. I thought what I was watching was setting up something for Gatwa, was rolling out this metaphorical carpet for him to enter his first season on, bolstered by the fact he was being allegorically supported by former companions and a Doctor so adored they brought him back twice.

But what I was actually seeing, whether or not Davies or anyone else thought this aspect of it through, was that very thought process, that very hatred, being softly placated. That those vocal members of the British public and the audience at large were being told, "Not to worry! He's not the only Doctor," Wittingly or unwittingly utterly undermining Gatwa's run from the very start.

Simply put, the Doctor is a communal role, but not a role that has ever been shared. And this Special choosing now as a time to start? Left a deeply sour taste in my mouth. For now I will attempt to be hopeful, will tune in for Gatwa's Christmas Special and hope to all hopes he is given the moment in the spotlight he deserves... but if they lead Tennant out of the wings to thunderous applause? I only hope that my thoughts on the matter will make you all second guess clapping along.

[ian-loves-fanfiction]

Well

I finally finished I See You, Sundrop! by @shirajellyfish

Slight spoily warning!

It is 1:14 in the morning as I write this (editing about a day later) and I have my first day of my senior year of high school tomorrow, but I just had to get all of my thoughts out while they were fresh.

I have never, never hyperfixated on a fanfic so hard. I've never read 400k+ words of a single fic in under a week. Somehow I managed to do that and have time to draw fanart (something I'm pretty sure I've only done once before for a fic, actually) and do my irl life shit.

How, you may ask? By continuously staying up into the wee hours of the morning :D (like 4-6am type shit, don't recommend it even if I think it was personally worth it).

I think I was so hyperfixated on the fic that I honestly didn't absorb the emotions like I should have? I felt things, surprise, excitement, a Sense of Impending Doom (/hj), but I don't think I really felt them.

I was probably a little more dissociated while reading than I usually am lol. I was so absorbed that some things barely registered. I am 100% going to have to re-read everything.

At one point I worried the fic wouldn't have a happy ending. Doesn't have the "angst with a happy ending" tag afaik and it got much worse before it got better. Saw a comment on one of the end notes and was reassured thankfully TvT. I'm very happy everyone is ok.

Love how the after ending note basically boiled down to "everyone is fine and Felix finally got some sleep" lol.

This fic was just. So good. Riley is such a dynamic character, so awesome and so cool. I really want to headcanon them as autistic (some of their behaviors just. They just. It's hard to explain, but if you're autistic too I bet you probably felt it, just a lil. They got the vibes /hj) but I know some authors can be kinda iffy about people headcanoning their OCs (which I get).

It was really cool to see an honest to goodness nonbinary character, a full character and not a self insert or y/n (no shade, I love y/n stories too). It was just cool to see a complete OC, and I love that it was all platonic, even if Sundrop did catch a little bit of feelings.

Honestly I relate so much to that, as someone who gains and loses crushes pretty fast. I'm happy it stayed platonic though and Sunny wasn't hurt or stuck pining or something silly. Plus his absolute embarrassment and mortification at his slip up was pretty funny. Might try to draw it, if I have any left over motivation (the bottom of this post sure is interesting hint hint).

Update as I'm editing this about a day later: I can't stop thinking about this fic. It was just so good! I already want to re-read it but I know I should give it at least a little time so I don't burn myself out. This fic was probably the best story I've ever read. Period. Even better than the published books I've read.

Honestly without spoiling any more than I already have, read it. If you like the DCA, read it. If you like cool nonbinary characters and great platonic relationships, read it. If you like a plot that sneaks up on you before hitting you in the feels like a truck, read. It. Do it. It's sososo worth it, I promise you.

If anyone has some good fics to read (completed preferred but actively updated ones work too) PLEASE FEED ME. Now that I'm done with ISYS I am desperate for more DCA fics. I've read so many and I n e e d m o r e.

Bonus fanart to celebrate my completion I guess(?), embarrassed Sun boy!

I guess I just really like drawing embarrassed boyos. Sorry if it looks weird, I've never drawn a pose like this before :P

Shira if you're reading this, thank you. Your fic was just fantastic. Also thank you for helping me get out of my art block! I had it for the whole month of ArtFight (sadge) but I'm so happy to have some motivation again. Thank you.

[cynopoe]

heyyy idk if you remember but I once asked u about your inspiration/how you learned anatomy/draw etc. and I wanted to ask if you have answered that already. ofc you don't have to (you don't have to answer this one either, if you don't I'll just assume you didn't) ig you posted stg about not having time etc to reply and again: i love your art

Hey! I distinctly remember something like that although I don’t think I answered. And I can’t find it in my inbox either. Either I responded it and it got lost in the void or I might have deleted the ask when I was cleaning the box from all the porn bots. Either way I’m sorry for losing your ask 🥲

I will answer it now

I started drawing digitally when I was 15 on an old wacom tablet. I didn’t stop doing traditional stuff until I bought an ipad and got lazy with the endless options it offered me. I still use the ipad with procreate and CSP interchangeably. In my experience Procreate has a better coloring tools be it the colors itself or the brushes, the editing tools. Blending modes are, in my opinion, slightly better than CSP. and CSP inspires me to do more sketches and comic style stuff. I recommend them both.

What I will say now will stay between you and me. Alright? I learned doing anatomy from drawing filthy, filthy pornography. I wasn’t any good at it in the beginning, but honestly it is the best way to learn it, in my experience. I developed so fast when I was doing nsfw art. A lot faster than if I had only been drawing normal stuff. Many of those drawings will never see the face of day, but they’re there. And they helped me a lot.

Other than that I also recommend studying real life. Try to understand where body parts start and where they end. Try to study the “line of action”. Try to remind yourself a body is a 3d form. Foreshortening helps, although I’m not the biggest fan of it. Trace photographs- and I’m not saying like go over like by like. Study photographs. There are many reference pictures online. I often find mine on pinterest.

Redrawing one pose over and over again until you can do it with close eyes, helps, and will drive you up a wall. You will want to break your pencil. But it will help. Compare what you draw with the reference picture. Remember to flip the canvas often. Our eyes get used to our art, good parts and the mistakes.

Sleep on a pose if you can’t get it just right. Your eyes will be kinder to you in the next day.

Yeah using references and being very mindful of them will help you a lot. There are some youtube tutorials. This streamer has been my favorite lately.

About finding inspiration… I’m sorry I can’t help you much with this one. You see, I’ve lost mine and I have been looking for it for a year now. Idk. Get unnaturally obsessed with a media? Get into a moderately large fandom? Have some people around you to keep your interest alive? Idk I haven’t been active in any fandom in years. But when I was, I saw that social interaction of it helped me to stay motivated to create.

Keep your mind sharp: read, study, interact with anything out of your comfort zone. In my personal experience, keeping in my walls never really gives me that rush, that eureka of inspiration. I often get this desire to create when my mind is active. I don’t know if it will be the same for you though.

Thank you for this ask! And thank you for being incredibly patient. I’m sorry again for losing your ask before. I hope I could help even a little 🖤 stay creative, friend.