#just want to get some art itches out my brain

[aghostnamedcalamity]

Is Benjamin the tyoe of kid to constantly ask Mordecai if they can get a puppy?

I’d say he’s more the type of kid to sneak the puppy into his room without telling anyone and cough loudly at the dinner table to cover the sounds of the barking. And the puppy would probably be a pigeon, he loves those things. Mordecai’s hatred for them only makes them all the more forbidden fruit.

[godgavemenoname]

i didn't sleep last night and now i'm going fucking insane. i hate everything and i hate that.

[106alibi]

"markie, do I look good?"

good? you never looked just good. you were art. you were what artists wrote about, sang about, drew about. you didn't belong here in mark's bedroom, standing in front of the mirror scrutinising your outfit. you belonged in Louvre to be admired. with each and every if your curves so carefully and delicately sculpted by a potter, from the bridge of your nose to the arch of your back. the way the inifinite black holes of your little pupils sucked him in and chained him in its grasp and he thought he wouldn't mind being stuck there for hours. and your oh so dangerous, kryptonitic smile that turned his legs into jelly and took away the words in his throat. he thought he could write poems and songs and entries about you but a simple look is all it took for the nerves in his brain to short circuit and erase his ability to speak.

oh god, could someone be so beautiful? mark thought he must have saved a country in his previous life for aphrodite to have taken the form of his best friend, with somehow the powers of zeus because for some reason, the sky seemed gloomier when you cried, and sunnier when you laughed. and he deduced that he must be allergic to you because of how warm his face became when he thought about you, blooming rashes of shyness and anxiety creeping up from his neck, and the lingering tingle on the back of his hand when it brushes against your skin. he must be running a fever, he thought. he must be ill. or drunk. so drunk and intoxicated by your soft, marshmallow skin, adorned with sweet champagne perfume that made him dream of sinking his nose into your bare neck and drinking in your scent, like one too many shots of vodka with how dizzy you made him by just breathing. every possible adjective in the dictionary would not be precise enough for the beauty you exuded, and he knew that good was definitely too much of an understatement.

"dude, you look fine."

what a loser. maybe one day he'll muster up the courage to tell you how he really felt. one day.

a/n: shit posting a little because my hands itched to write about (loser) mark with a one-sided crush 🤭 also really wanted to get something out first!! enjoy my tumblr debut!!

[frannyzooey]

In The Dark: One Shot

Series Masterlist

Ezra x m!reader

Rating: E (filth and yearning, my friends)

Summary: Six weeks after Birdie has left, a glimpse into how Ezra tries to forget.

A/N: all the thanks to my bestie in crime, @the-scandalorian who said “when will this freak be in MY sheets” and she was so real for that ❤️

--

It’s been over a month, and the wound is still raw. 

He’s tried to keep busy in so many ways: driving further for deliveries, taking on harder jobs that tire him out, seeking out his friends for a few drinks or a movie or dinner. Anything to keep him from reaching for his phone to text you or call you. 

Distractions, which is what he needs tonight. 

The itch to grab his phone is strong, so he grabs his keys instead. Stuffs his wallet in his back pocket, some condoms in the front. Steps out into the dusk and with a quick, restless stride, makes his way towards the nearest station. The train is crowded, not unusual for a Friday night and so are the streets when he gets off: streams of pairs, of groups, of single people like him all headed their way somewhere. 

A thought pops into his mind, the way you used to wonder aloud where everyone was going. You used to watch them from your window, the steam from the tea clutched in your hands curling into the air, and for a brief, painful moment, he sees it. Your profile, your cheeks stretched with a grin, your hand patting the cushion next to you, beckoning him closer. In nothing but a tank top and your underwear, you’re a vision – a literal one that he shakes free as he opens the door to the bar.

It’s loud, but that’s good. 

It doesn’t take him long to find someone. He’s never one to be shy about looking at someone with blatant want, and it takes only a few minutes before the man approaches him. It’s only been men since you left. He can’t bear the touch of another woman, with all their softness and sweetness and curves. He needs a hardness that matches his own: rough kisses, harsh grips. 

Ezra orders the man a beer to match the one he’s finishing off, and they talk for a while, leaning on the bar. He’s a drummer in a band, here to see his friend play. He’s got intricate tattoos that run the length of his arms, molding to the sinewy muscles. He’s got eyes so rich with depth that Ezra finds himself drawn in the longer they talk, empty bottles being replaced with fresh, full ones. 

He’s not you, and that’s perfect. 

A bundle of cash is thrown down on the countertop, and Ezra follows the man out of the bar, letting him guide him back to his place, just around the corner. The apartment is sparse in the way men’s often are. A couch, a coffee table, a couple of pieces of art on otherwise bare walls. Not as many books as Ezra would like to see, but that’s okay. He’s not here for intellectually stimulating conversation. 

He’s here to fuck. 

He’s here to forget the fact that he would rather be in someone else’s apartment, surrounded by their stacks of books, among other things that made it feel so cozy and lived in. So warm, just like the cloud of your bed, or the cradle of your thighs or – 

“You want a drink?” the man offers, standing next to his open fridge. 

Ezra shakes his head, coming closer. He reaches out, gently pushing the door shut. 

“No,” he replies. “Just you.”

—

The man’s bed is nothing like yours, but that’s okay. 

The sheets aren’t as soft and it doesn’t smell as sweet, but it does have a willing body with a tight hole and that’s all that matters right now. Something to turn his brain off for the night, to numb the deep ache that’s settled between his ribs. 

He aches now, but in a different way. A sweet, heavy ache deep in his balls as he tries not to come in the tight, wet fist of this man’s ass. The stranger is on his hands and knees, his back arched to take every one of Ezra’s rough thrusts, rocking back to meet every snap of his hips. His groans are deep and loud, his hands clenched in the plain sheets stretched over his mattress and Ezra runs a hand down his spine, his fingers splayed over his lower back. 

Tattoos extend all the way up to his shoulders and wrap around his ribcage. His body is gorgeous – all lean muscles and smooth skin; Ezra’s touch fits between his ribs along his sides as he bends forward to tug the man up. 

The stranger molds his back to Ezra’s front, and Ezra keeps a hand cradled at the base of his throat and fucks him harder, letting out his low, labored grunts into the nape of his sweat damp neck. His body is hard against Ezra’s, nothing like yours. When Ezra’s arm wraps around his front, he feels firm, flat planes instead of lush, weighted breasts. When his hand smoothes down the man’s torso, he feels a flat belly covered in scattered hair instead of plush, rounded softness. When Ezra’s hand dips lower, it wraps around a thick, stiff cock instead of finding a seam of wet, slick warmth. 

The man’s hand joins Ezra’s, the two of them pumping his cock in time with the beat of Ezra’s hips. Ezra wants something slicker, something to make the drag better, and he lets go, bringing his hand up to the man’s mouth. The man opens, sucking Ezra’s fingers in down to the knuckle, and they groan together, Ezra’s cock jerking inside. Ezra can feel the vibration of his hum around the thick digits and pulls them out of his mouth, bringing them back down to the man’s cock. 

“Fuck,” he groans when Ezra wraps him with a firm, slick hold, jerking him root to tip. He adds a slight twist to the motion, something he loves to do to himself, and when the man’s broad frames melt against Ezra’s, he grins. He pumps his fist faster, feeling the man clench around his cock, and when the man’s groans start to get louder, Ezra’s pace picks up. 

Sweat beads along his neck, and Ezra licks it up with a flat lave of his tongue. “It feels good, doesn’t it?” Ezra croons in his ear. 

When the man doesn’t answer, Ezra scrapes his teeth along the corded muscle, biting down. 

“Yes! Yes, fuck yes, it feels good. Jesus Christ. Fuck me.” 

The man is near babbling, his cock thickening in Ezra’s hold, beads of pre-come leaking steadily from the thick, rounded tip and Ezra swipes through the pearly mess, bringing his hand to his mouth. He sucks the sticky slick off the pad of his fingers, and lets out a lewd, deep groan into the man’s ear. The man whimpers, letting his head tip back against Ezra’s shoulder. 

Ezra’s got him cradled on his lap, his hand back on the man’s cock to finish him off, and when he starts to come with a shout and a steady stream of thick cum seeping through Ezra’s fingers, he digs his fingers into Ezra’s thighs, forcing himself down on Ezra’s lap to bury him as deep as he’ll get. 

Ezra’s chest is heaving, his body aching with the need to come, every muscle strung as tight as the hold he has on the man’s hair. He’s rough with him: pushing him forward on his hands and knees, digging into his hips with a harsh grip, pounding into the curve of his ass hard enough to bruise. His fingers dig into the crown of the man’s hair with a tug, and Ezra closes his eyes, teetering on the edge of his own release. 

The curve of your plush ass, the dig of your tiny fingers, the weight of your smaller frame enveloped by his. Your softer moans, the scent of your shampoo and your skin and the touch of your hair when he buries his face in it and the slick, tight warmth of your cunt or your ass as his hips jerk upwards – 

And then he comes, burying himself deep. 

He drops forward, catching his breath for a moment, resting his hands on the bed as his cheek rests on the man’s shoulder, and when he eases himself out, he feels slightly smug at the hiss he hears him let out.

“That was…a lot. Fuck, man,” the stranger laughs, breathless and sated. He drops down onto the bed, splaying out. His fingers dance along his tattooed stomach while he watches appreciatively as Ezra stands, tugging the condom off and knotting it. 

“The bathroom is over there.” The man waves his hand in the direction of the hallway.

In the tiny room, Ezra washes his hands and stares at himself in the mirror. He looks tired, even with his cheeks flushed with heat. 

His balls are empty, but so is everything else. 

He doesn’t stay long after that. A quick press to the man’s lips at his front door, a half-hearted promise to see him again sometime. He knows he probably won’t. 

He feels tired on his walk back home, his limbs drained of their restless energy, which is what he wanted – so he isn’t sure why he feels so..unsatisfied. Like he didn’t just fuck someone until they both finished. He wonders briefly if you’ve fucked anyone since you’ve been gone, and he immediately rebels against the thought…even though he knows he doesn’t have any right to. 

He just did, didn’t he? 

He wonders if you miss him like he misses you. If your world is tinted in Ezra-colored glasses like his is tinted in yours. If you also lay awake at night, staring at your face-down phone on your night stand, willing it to light with a text. 

He said he would give you time and space and he meant that. Christ, he did. He wouldn’t even be mad if you went out and had fun and fucked someone because that’s what he wants for you – to be young, to embrace this opportunity, to have those experiences. 

He just wishes it was still with him. 

Letting himself in the front door, he heads straight for the shower. Stripping his clothes, he stands under the steaming pressure, dropping his head between his shoulders. He lets the steady stream beat down on his back, washing the sweat of someone else off his skin. 

He sees a flash of your open mouth moaning in pleasure, your skin sliding against the shower tiles, and frustrated, he slams the water off. His cock comes to life, half hard between his thighs, and he ignores it, toweling off. 

Pulling on sweats, he should be tired enough to sleep after a fuck like that, but he heads in the direction of the living room instead, grabbing a beer on the way there. Slumping into the couch, he clicks the TV on. He pulls up his phone, swiping open the weather app. 

LONDON: 46F / 7C, 3AM 

The bright light of the TV illuminates his profile, and he sighs, setting the phone down. 

Are you in your bed? In someone else’s?

Hoping you’re safe, he slouches into the cushions and settles in for a sleepless night.

[teddybeartoji]

mickeyyyyy *smiles too wide* i would love to hear ur thoughts about snow leopard hybrid!gojo if ur up for it,,,the words themselves just itched something in my brain

MOSS<333333333 i love ur smile btw I AM KINDA NEW TO HYBRIDS OKAY BUT THIS ONE IS JUST SOOOOOOO MMMMMMM also wait here is the twt art that made me lose it (everybody say thank u logan we love u logan for showing it to me) AAAAAAAAAAA IT'S SOOO FUCKING GOOOOOD HE LOOKS SOSO PERFCECT it suits him so well my brain is all mushy already

geto locking him out bc he purred too loudly fuuuuuuuuckkkkkkk he's so cute i want him. like he'd be sooooo clingy right?????? always trying to settle down in your lap always trying to get you to pet him to scratch his ears and he ALWAYSSS PURRS SOOOO LOUDLYY although i would never lock him out sugu is weak for that smh... i think he'd kind of like it when you played with his tail too?? usually felines don't like that too much but since it's you - he loves that shit. he likes to twirl it around your arm and his eyes go so big whenever that makes you laugh GOOD GODDDDDDDD look this is a full on ramble i hope something makes sense too i'm sorry for that i just🥴🥴🥴

oh my god he probably waits for you by the door when you come home, biting down on his tail just like in the picture?????? i'm kinda torn between whether he'd be good while you're gone or would he act up bc i mean it's satoru. the ultimate brat. so maybe he does scratch the couch a little or something? to show how upset he is over you leaving him at home:(((( you can't stay mad either bc c'mon look at him:((((((((((((((((((((((( god i wanna pet him sm

he probably likes to take care of you in his own way too right? like groom you? is that the word? he'd want to lick you, clean you, make sure you're all relaxed and feeling good after a long day. he's such a good boy:(((( he loves you:((((((((

oh and obviously he's super fucking clingy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i mean that's canon for him anyway but now even more. he always wants to drape himself in your lap, his tail curling around you like i said before too. please scratch his ears please please please:((( when you're trying to cook he's glued to your side, nuzzling into your skin - whether it's into your neck or just your back, he just wants to be close to you:(((

he also likes to nip at your skin!!!! there have been a few times where he bites down just a tad bit too hard and it drew blood but it was an accident!!!! he never wants to hurt you he felt so bad after that:(( went at sat in the corner with his tail between his legs:(((((( but you of course forgive him and coax him back to you with some belly rubs

after that he learned how to be more gentle, though. so now he often just fakes biting you just to hear you laugh or playfully scold him. when he does sink his teeth in - maybe your arm or your thigh; he always keeps eye-contact.

when you're just lazing around - reading a book, playing a video game - he's always next to you. always. maybe every once in a while he decides to take a nap, belly up, paws kind of folded and oh, he looks adorable like that. he's just a big kitty okay. btw he's always touching you. clingyclingyclingy. even when he's sleeping, he has to be touching you in some way.

SUGGESTIVE! gets upset when you come home and you have other smells on you. especially other mens' smells. maybe your co-worker hugged you goodbye or something and now his cologne sticks to your skin and satoru can't have that. he's just immediately pawing at you - begging for your attention and when you grant him that, he's jumping on you, pushing you down and licking over whereever the stench is. after he deems you clean, he just rubs himself against you - his way of marking you. you don't know that though... you just think he really missed you...... mmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

can hybrids go into heat............................? LOOK I'M NEW HERE OKAY I NEED TO LEARN. if they do.............. if he does............ oh boy... you need to get something to surpress those bc he will lose it. he's humping your bed, he's humping your pillow, he's sniffing your clothes. your underwear. sometimes he's pawing at your dresser, looking for more clothes but mostly his target is the dirty laundry basket....................................... everything goes when you're out....... he's gonna make a big big mess..............................................🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴 ok i think i need to stop myself here otherwise i'll really lose it........................

moss i need to hear your thoughts on this. NEEEED TO HEAR THEM. DESPERATELY NEED TO. if u know about hybrids u can teach me. i'm..... in it now......................... heheheheheh this was so fun i'm sorry it took a min love but yeah i can't wait to hear your ideas aaaaaaaaaa I LOVE YOIUUUU I HOPE YOU HAD A GOOD DAY MY BELOVED<3333

[spaceblu]

busted | benedict bridgerton

summary: benedict is sure he knows you, he only doesn’t know from where. and he probably shouldn’t know.

warnings: none actually!

It’s the curve on your lips when you drink from your cup, Benedict has solved the case. Or the wrinkles around your eyes when you start to laugh, it might be it too. But there’s something in you that seems to hold his attention longer than he imagined and it has been like this the whole night.

Now he knows every and each small thing you do when you react to something, he caught you blinking to a couple of men, making it look way more innocent than it was to them. Benedict saw your eyes twinkle under the lights while dancing and couldn’t stop thinking about how soft your hands might be under your gloves.

He couldn’t help himself. There was something about you that seemed so known to him that it itched a certain part of his brain trying to remember why he was so mesmerized by you. Why were you so intriguing to him when he’s absolutely sure he never saw you before.

“Here, let me help you.” Eloise says, holding Benedict’s chin with both her hands “I think your chin will fall anytime soon.”

Benedict’s eyes go from you to his sister, surprised by her sudden appearance next to him. Eloise lets out a laugh, taking her hands away from her brother and crossing her arms in front of her chest, glancing in your direction too.

“Who is she and why are you so endearing looking at her?” Eloise squints, trying to analyze you “I don’t think I know her…”

“Me neither.” The sound falls from Benedict’s mouth more like a whisper and he sighs afterwards “And I’m not endearing looking at her.”

“Brother,” Eloise almost rolls her eyes at Benedict, but controls herself from doing so in front of so many people. If the circumstances were different, she would do it one hundred percent “your eyes are on her the whole night. I have no clue how I managed to get your attention, actually.”

Eloise continues to talk and talk and talk, but you start to dance again. Benedict watches you spin in your ankles while smiling to your dance partner, your hands smoothly moving while you dance. Your hair flows around your face, framing it with curls. You probably smell good, floral and sweet with a spicy hint to it. Your skin glows and looks soft to the touch.

“Jesus Christ,” Eloise almost shouts, catching her brother’s attention again “ask her to dance, or you will start drooling any time soon and someone might slip on it.”

For once, Eloise is right. Benedict should ask to dance with you. There’s nothing telling him he shouldn’t, and a dance won’t hurt no one.

He makes the path between you two, taking his time to gather his thoughts correctly and think about what he should say to you. What kind of subjects are you interested in? You could be into arts, writing or even singing. You have beautiful lips, and even if Benedict couldn’t listen to your voice from where he was standing, he's sure your voice is soothing as it seems from afar.

Benedict bows in front of you and notices the corners of your lips going up in a small smile “Would you conceive me a dance with you, my lady?”

You bow in his direction too, but gracefully looking at him with your chin up “Of course, sir.” You place your hand on his, waiting for him to hold it “Lead me, please.”

Benedict holds your hand, almost squeezing it with too much strength, but he desperately wants to feel the skin underneath your glove. Your thumb rubs the back of his hand smoothly and the gentle touch makes Benedict want more caresses from you. Perhaps you didn’t even notice you were doing that little thing with your thumb, but Benedict feels feverish with just this small thing.

He takes you in his arms and starts dancing.

“May I ask you if you’re new here?” Benedict starts, really wanting to say something to you and make some conversation.

“Probably.” You smile, not giving away if you’re telling the truth or not.

Benedict scrunchies his nose “I’m curious, because I’ve never seen you before, but I feel as if I already know you.”

You let out a giggle and Benedict is completely lost, has he said anything funny?

“Is this your way of courting me?” Your expression has an amused smile and Benedict can’t help but find it funny too. It indeed sounded different than he wanted it too “Perhaps you’ve seen me in your dreams, right?”

“N-No… That’s not what I was trying to say.” He stutters trying to hold a laugh and not sound as dumb as he probably does at the moment “I mean it, you look familiar but I can’t tell from where exactly.”

“Mr. Bridgerton, I’m sure I’ve never crossed paths with you before.” You give up and say it seriously “I’ve been in town for a couple of days visiting my aunt for the season.”

“And may I ask who your aunt is?” Benedict is fast with his words, not leaving any time for you to end your conversation.

Benedict tries to notice something in you that might give it away who your aunt is, but it doesn’t work. Your accent is a bit different than what he’s used to, but he can’t tell exactly from where you are. Your eyes are beautiful, as are your skin, lips, nose, body… Benedict can’t think of anyone anyway as attractive to him as you.

“It seems that you’re having fun trying to solve my mystery. I think we should keep it for longer.”

“My mom knows everyone, every family, and she probably has her eyes on you, anyways. You seem like a good match for one of her sons.” Benedict spins you while speaking.

It’s already the end of the dance, the final move and Benedict wonders if he could ask you for another dance, or maybe he could walk with you to get something to drink. He wanted to speak more with you, to look deep inside your eyes, to listen to your voice and watch your lips move gracefully.

When you finish your spin, you look right back at Benedict “So let’s see if you can discover who I am, Mr. Bridgerton.”

You grin in his direction, so close he can see every line in your face. And it hits him – your grin. He indeed saw it before, not in his dreams, but in a place where a lady shouldn’t be, somewhere he’s not even sure women are allowed to enter when they’re not in the company of a man. But you were there, he’s sure of it now.

Benedict’s memory is foggy, probably because he was way drunker than normal that night, but there’s no doubt it was you.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Benedict asks when you touch his arm calling for his attention “In the bar?”

There’s a frown that grows in your forehead and you almost open your mouth, surprised, but keep control of your expression. Benedict continues to stare in your direction and catches your arm before you could run away from him. You felt like running away, but instead you gave him a sweet smile.

“Sir, I don’t know what you mean.”

Your voice shakes a bit and Benedict can notice that you’re not telling the truth, because even if you don’t sound nervous, you obviously look like you’re about to have a nervous wreck right there. Your hands are moving, making Benedict hold your arm and start to lead him out of the middle of the room. Your fingers are restless around his arm and he could feel you tapping his forearm with them.

“I know it was you, now I’m sure of it.” Benedict can say, trying to grab other memories inside his mind from that night “I could recognize this grin of yours within millions of smiles.”

It happened the week before. Benedict decided to go to the bar alone, after a long day of boring things and a couple of drinks with his gentleman friends, he didn’t want to go home yet. It was breezy, but not cold, so the perfect night to spend in the bar with unknown people he will never exchange a word with again.

When he’s near the bar, he can hear people singing inside and instruments are being played. He enters the room and everyone is singing together, some at their own tables, others hugged next to the musicians. But there’s two young adults, probably a few years younger than Benedict, singing on top of the balcony leading the rest.

One of them is wearing a white shirt, trousers and really shining and beautiful boots. The other is wearing the same thing, but with a dark blue cape on top, covering most part of their face. Benedict sits at a table in one corner of the bar, he pretends to go unnoticed and enjoys the joyful singing from the others. He orders a beer and continues to drink, even if he already feels drunk enough after drinking with his friends.

The light inside the bar isn’t good, but when the person wearing the cape spins while singing, Benedict can see a grin on their lips, the curves softly matching the rest of the person’s expression, and when Benedict watches more carefully, the grinning person is a girl. He can see the soft hair under the hood, the pretty features in her face and the beautiful silhouette.

Benedict can’t take his eyes from her, the way she sings is mesmerizing, the way she drinks the beer from the mug and continues to move around the balcony with her partner. Benedict tries not to focus on the questions that are surfacing his mind, about why there is a girl there and who is the man singing with her. Benedict wants to enjoy the view, his members already feeling numb from drinking but he can’t help having fun.

“Sir, please, stop talking about this.” You ask, now almost running with Benedict hooked with your arm “At least not in the middle of everyone.”

You search for someone in the middle of the people, your eyes wandering through every corner of the room. Benedict wanted to ask you again who you are in the end. Why were in a bar being a lady? Who was the guy with you that night? Why hasn't he seen you before?

One of the questions was answered before Benedict could even say them out loud.

“Mr. Bridgerton, this is my brother.” You almost fly to the man standing in front of you two and hold his arm instead of Benedict’s. It’s the guy you were with in the bar “Brother, this is Benedict Bridgerton, he just danced with me.”

Your brother looks at you, noticing your breathless voice as you introduce Benedict to him. He looks back at Benedict and smiles, greeting him. As soon as Benedict said nice to meet you, you both disappeared in the middle of the other guests. How was it possible for two grown people to just vanish in front of his eyes? But you two were nowhere to be seen.

Benedict felt empty for the first time that night. He spent most of the night watching you, trying to guess where he saw you before and now he knows where, but you’re gone and he has nothing else to do there. He wanted to speak to you more, maybe the bar issue wasn’t the only conversation he wanted to have with you, his curiosity about you being bigger than he imagined.

He wanted to know things about you.

Well, now he knows you can sing. And drink.

And there’s nothing he can’t try to discover in the next ball of the season.

[sunlit-mess]

you always seem to draw a lot and like i wonder how you deal with burnout or art block

Burnout is nothing new,

I can't bear to fail this too

HOW TO DEAL WITH CREATIVE BURNOUTS :

Shut your brain off, and REST. Get away from your canvas for a while, take a breather.

Have FUN, Go ahead and boost your mood in certain ways you want to let off steam.

Socialize and interact with other people and treat yourself, eat what you like or do something you've like been dying to try with your friends/family. It's like a reward for doing hard work!

Reflect. Lessen being harder on yourself, you can only take so much, you don't want to break completely. Our ideas can be infinite, but our body is not.

If you want to start again, work comfortably on times you are likely to be productive. Get comfortable while drawing!

FOR ART BLOCK :

Almost the same thing with burnouts, actually!

Step away from the canvas. Step outside, Do other hobbies and such, read a book, listen to music, socialize, etc.

If you have 'failed works; works you think that are shit', draft them instead. You'll find them useful! You can try redrawing them again some other time.

Eventually, you'll take action when inspiration strikes.

----------

Having hyperfixation keeps my creative fuel maxed, especially with music or literature ☠️ though sometimes they can get so irritating bc I'd have nothing to think about but the same thing over and over huhu.

Outside the hyperfixations, also a struggle. But I like to research and collect information in order to find out how I want to execute whatever idea.

I also have too many ideas, and can be over ambitious, to a point it's like some Icarus thing... 😅 I fly too high sometimes, I crash so low.

I also tend to write them down, or just do thumbnails then drafting them for another day.

And trust me when burnout always take a toll on you, it's been years and I still deal with frozen shoulders and wrist-arm pains. If not that then it's lethargy, both mentally and physically. And more tbh. kms so bad HAHAHAHAA

Despite all the burnouts and handicaps,

I'm always hungry, always itching to create something.

[poppy-metal]

Hi hello yes your creep!au is scratching an itch i didn't even know needed to be scratched! I absolutely love it and you 💖 especially your last post about her hesitancy to reveal herself I just augghhrheuehh like it's not that she thinks getting to know him will ruin the idea she's had of him because she does truly care about him under all that psychopathy. it's her fear that him finally knowing who she is will ruin this good thing they have going, like he's validating her and she doesn't have to be vulnerable. Maybe he starts hinting more at wanting to see her face, tries to trick her into meeting up, just wants to know her name and she's panicking but while all this is going on he's noticing his project partner being more aloof with him, like she's trying to detach herself, and he's worried about that now too wondering what he did??? Can you tell I'm invested heavily? Like I need to know more!

giggles and kicks my feet -

I'm thinking of reader being invited to his dorm to study - going to hers is absolutely out of the question, there's too much evidence of her obsession with him all over the place - and you already know where arts room is.

you give yourself away a little - when you walk ahead of him and catch yourself, making sure you trail behind him - can't let him know you're already well aware of the location of his dorm. stepping inside it and trying to be normal. you come across as stiff and stoic to art when really you're containing yourself.

he thinks you probably dislike him. the wooden way you walk over to his bed when he motions to it - "you can sit - here, let me -" he shoves some pillows back so you have space to settle. he takes his desk chair, spinning it around and straddling it to face you. "so."

you blink at him, owlish. inside your head, your brain is spinning spinning spinning. everything around you is just art. on his bed - on his sheets that he sleeps in. the room smells like him. if you flopped down and burried your face in his pillows you'd be enveloped in it. dry. your mouth is so dry. you touch your throat - swallow.

art straightens and pushes hair out of his eyes - his curls are extra curly today - he must have showered this morning - "shit. are you thirsty - i could go get you something -" he's already standing up, so you nod and he smiles, like he's relieved to do something. "what d'you like? the vending machine in this dorm isn't half bad. there's like, water and soda - or i could go get you something from the cafeteria? their coffee is shit but they have these like, fruit smoothies that are actually good -"

"okay." you mumble, staring up at him, nearly in awe. his voice is addicting to listen too - but his face was getting flushed, trying to figure out what you'd want. you actually would have preferred a coke, but when art raises and eyebrow and says - "right, cool. smoothie then?" you nod like that's absolutely what you want.

he pockets his dorm room key and walks backwards as he leaves, waves his arm in a vague 'do whatever' gesture - "make yourself comfortable or as comfortable as you can on a shitty dorm bed. I'll be quick."

you last about five seconds after the door clicks shut before you're diving into his bed. inhaling into his pillow and moaning. it smells so good. a full body shiver goes through you. you roll onto your back, bringing the pillow with you - covering your face. you want his scent all over you - you want it soaked into your pores. into your skin. into your bloodstream. it washes over you like a wave. warm, warm, warm. you stick your tongue out - press it against the fabric of his pillowcase. it tastes like plain old fucking fabric. but. arts art art art arts. you suck it into your mouth. clench your legs. you cant masturbate right now but you want to. want to hump against his bed -

arts phone pings. you sit up, blinking. you hadn't realized he'd left his phone here.

biting your lip, you pick it up. the notification was just an email from a professor but you swipe up. locked. thats fine. you tap in the date he won his first trophy in tennis - unlock his phone.

thumb through his messages. you halt at the message he'd last sent you - you haven't been able to check today yet.

would at least tell me your name? you know so much about me and i don't even know what to call you.

you cant, though. your name is recognizable. but still..... you think. what if he called me a petname..... what if he had a special nickname just for you.... then you'd be his, in a way. you already were but - it would just cement it even more. what would art call you, given the chance? given what hes learned so far? you would be anything for him. your real name doesn't even matter - just what he calls you. that might as well be the real you.

you set his phone back down exactly as it was. swipe a stick of his cinnamon gum from his desk and put it in your pocket.

[eoieopda]

[visual content blog recommendations]

we see fic recs all the time, but i don’t think i’ve ever seen rec lists for visual content (gif/art/gfx/etc.) creators! they’ve been dealing with a bunch of shit lately between reposts, tumblr garbage, etc., so i wanna shout-out some favorites. thank you for keeping us fed!!

disclaimer: this is not an exhaustive list!! if you have recommendations of your own, please feel free to expand on this yourself and/or drop some of your faves in the replies for others to see. self-promo is always welcome here, too ✨ p.s. some of these are recent finds for me, so pls expect to see more of them on my blog. eta: i will be adding more as i go!!

[bts]

@yooboobies — réka’s gif sets are *chef’s kiss* and the ART? omg. the talent!!! 😭 we simply have to simp.

@cordiallyfuturedwight — apart from being one of the coolest/funniest people i’ve found on army tumblr, i am a kayla stan because the niche themes for her gif sets (ex. bangtan turtlenecks series) feel like they’re made 👏🏻 for 👏🏻 me 👏🏻 even though they absolutely aren’t, lmao.

@hopeinthebox — the bts as reductress headline + incorrect bangtan series are probably my favorite pieces of content on the entire internet??? also, lizzy is absolutely gd hilarious. tags are 11/10. a blessing upon my dash.

@kimtaegis — i’m not visually artistic enough to say this in a way that makes sense, but annie’s gifs are just… stunning? like, the colors? idk about the process that goes into that, but i imagine it takes a lot of time/finesse to be this vivid.

@kithtaehyung — ryen is the renaissance man of army tumblr, fr. not only can she write (like!!!) but she’s multi-faceted and insanely creative with her graphic design. i want her to tutor me, lmao.

@raplinenthusiasts — ooohhhhh my god. the coloring of their gifs makes my brain go brrrrtttt. this bts x the office set is on my “always reblog” list; i’ll share it every time i come across it.

@heybaetae — this set in particular is on my “always reblog” list, no matter how many times i’ve done so already. also, idk how to describe this, but kelli’s gifs are just…. crispy 🤌🏻 like, so satisfying with the…. texture? filtering? contrast? i’m an idiot re: editing terms, but go peep them and you’ll know what i’m trying to say.

@kth1 — literally who could ever forget maggie’s 100 days of (member) series??? the amount of work that had to go into that? unfathomable.

@jeurias — i want to wallpaper my house and office with their gfx. i’m deadass.

@jinstronaut — emmeline has been doing her “a jin a day while he’s away” series for OVER 250 DAYS NOW. i have never been nor will i ever be able to commit to anything to this level.

[multi/skz/atz/svt/etc.]

@starryoong — do not get me started on starry’s paintings, sketches, etc. because i will never shut up. ever. j’adore 🫠 is also a five-star human being.

@irlvernon — my queue is probably 80% max gifs at any given time. god-tier, fr. a must-follow for carats, as far as i’m concerned.

@vcrnons — incredible gifs, lovely human, and also the writer of some of my favorite svt fics??? we stan.

@yelhsaart — i don’t have any words for how much i love their art so please imagine guttural screaming instead. asdfghjkl!!!

@hizuillu — ……breathtaking. legitimately stunning skz art. like…… i have heart palpitations.

@snug-gyu — THE USE OF COLORS. i’m always a simp for pantone-inspired sets; they just scratch an itch in the back of my brain, and BOY HOWDY, is my brain satisfied 😵‍💫

@yunwooz — again, i have no idea what i’m talking about when it comes to the gif-making process, but the colors!!! the COLORS!!! like, taking a mv that’s not super vivid/is fairly greyscale and bringing it to life? ya know????

@booskwan — you want incredible gifs? they’ve got em. you want stunning gfx? they’ve got em. seriously, idk what to tell you except “pause right here and go follow immediately”.

@haechannabelle — listen……. annabelle’s art style is 😗🤌🏻 (that’s a chef’s kiss). the use of color, and the technique, and and and — ! ALSO, i must mention that she took, like, 50 hours to compile a boycott-friendly k-pop playlist. their vibes are simply impeccable.

rev. 4/10/24

[hadesoftheladies]

if you're a radfem (or feminist in general) chances are you're dealing with these: repressed anger and the effects of gaslighting

if you're exhausted a lot (without strenuous physical activity and lack of sleep), find yourself having outbursts of strong emotion, feeling desperate for a form of escape, fantasizing about drastic measures, anxious and "forgetful" about memories you have, nervous about speaking about your experiences . . .

here's some tricks on how i've been coping:

-boundaries. if you can cut off people (irl or online) that cause you to spiral into hate, frustration, anger at their ignorance/malice, do it. even if it's a musician whose one song you like. or your brother or dad. limit time as much as possible with them. the less access they have, the less relevant they become, the more energy you conserve.

-do art! create something, it doesn't matter what it is. express those emotions! make sure you're doing it in a judgement-free zone. it's important you don't become a critic at this time. do messy, honest art (sometimes i write short scenes of gay/lesbian characters to cope with the homophobia in my life, and it makes me feel MUCH better and less cynical, sometimes you need to create beauty to remember it exists in the world)

-get out! get out into nature, if you can. if you can't immerse yourself in some form of it. try watching a potted plant for a while or watch insects. take interest in the mundane aspects of life. see that leaf curl? that ant? you're part of that. when you see the clouds, remember they are part of the cycle. the earth grows into its beauty as you do. the moon is the sky's cycle tracker. you belong to this world. you belong in it. this is your home. revel in it.

-if you can, and if you want to, hang out with animals. animals are great companions with none of the misogyny, internalized or otherwise! they don't mind if you cry, either. seriously, if you need non-draining, non-complicated companionship, animals are a good option. it's also good to remember you're a simple animal sometimes, with simple needs. sometimes all you need is a nice belly rub and a little treat.

-cultivate female friendships where it's safe to rant and also not all about ranting. your friendships should be a comfort, not a chore. you need irl community. if you can access it at this time, if you can find a way to cultivate it, please do. it may save you

-it is okay to enoy things despite the evil in the world. you don't have to be an activist 24/7. go watch your favorite movie. listen to your favorite comedian. and let down your guard while you're enjoying that little something. it's important you don't fall into analyzing things.

-for the gaslighting, start having conversations where you make it explicitly clear that you want the other party to ONLY listen. also, JOURNAL, even if it's just a paragraph or two sentences. write down the small important facts of your day. you'll either build a more reliable memory or come to see how reliable your memory is. just don't hang out with people that are constantly testing you. that is not an environment where you develop healthy trust in yourself.

-fight back! these are some ways to heal from the bruising of the world, but honestly? you need to acknowledge how RIGHT and GOOD your anger is. and one of the best ways to do that is to fight back! do something that addresses part of the injustice your heart is screaming about. it doesn't have to be big, it just needs to help someone and address the situation. address the alarms in your brain telling you something isn't right and you have to do something about it. scratch that itch! do that something. you will feel really good

please feel free to add any other tips you guys may have for cultivating joy, hope and energy, because we don't have to be miserable while/for doing the right thing

[choccy-milky]

1. your fic is absolutely amazing. Have been bingeing it and I’m literally obsessed. The way you write just itches my brain in such a good way, literally cannot contain my love and appreciation for your work👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻👏🏻 cheers to you!!! Can’t wait to keep reading

2. As I was reading I found out you also deadass drawing the art to go w/ the fic?? Literally you’re living my dream 😭 plus your art is so so so well done!!!!! It’s added so much joy to my reading experience

Cannot wait to see what else you have in store!!’ Hope you have an amazing, AMAZING day, week, year, etc.!!!! 💞🙌🏻🫶🏻

OMG IM GONNA CRY 😭😭 BAHAHA U SENT THIS AT SUCH A CRAZY MOMENT cuz i just checked my ao3 comments and was down about a rude comment i got, and then i come to tumblr and like, a few mins later/literally AS i was venting about it, u send this BAHAHA your choccy senses were tingling. IM SO GLAD U LIKE IT THO AND THAT YOURE ENJOYING IT (and my drawings, even if youve defs seen spoilers by now BAHHA) hope u have a good day too, u defs brightened mine!! THANK UUUU💖💖💖

@kaviary-blog this looks so funny bc i censored u just to keep it (mostly) spoiler free BUT AW THANK U DAMN IM HONOURED THAT MY FANFIC WAS THE ONE TO MAKE YOU CRY?? IM SO HAPPY HOW INVESTED YOU ARE 😭😭💖💖 im also super happy with that chap and its so satisfying like you said to finally be able to tie of all those threads so IM GLAD IT WAS WORTH IT💖

@lovesicklovermia ONE DAY???? OMG. FIRST TWO DAYS NOW ONE?? ITS JUST GETTING SHORTER AND SHORTER. next thing i know someones gonna be like yeah so i took some highly experimental drug that lets me read at 1000% the pace of a normal person, and i finished ur fic in 2 hours 😍omg loved it!!!😍😍 BAHAHAHA but omg i totally see what u mean, they do HAHA. AND THANK U💖💖 IM GLAD UR LIKING IT💖

YEAH so in my fic fifth years are 16, and by the time things get....explicit....clora and seb are 17. im not against consuming media with teenagers depicted in sexual situations like euphoria or riverdale or w.e else bc i get that its fiction and these are just real things that happen so its fine to write about them, but their canonical ages of 15 was still too young for me and i wanted them to be 17 before it got the E rating (which is why clora and sebs birthdays end up being so close, bc i was RUSHING for them to turn 17 BAHAHHAA)

BAHAHA clora and seb secretly being together is like the most poorly kept secret in my fic, like im sure her parents technically KNOW, but due to old fashioned traditions and whatnot (and it being 1891) seb wants to be able to propose properly and with a proper ring, bc clive is intimidating and he doesnt wanna just be like "yeah so im dating your daughter and weve already fucked and i plan to marry her" LOOL he wants to do things properly and be with her with her dads permission(even tho its a bit late for that HAHA) BUT WE CAN JUST PRETEND. tldr its basically just out of some sense of chivalry on sebs side, a fear of her dad, and wanting to do things right LOL

ALSO WAIT OMG STOPPPPP I WAS LITERALLY JUST ABOUT TO POST THIS BUTI HAVE TO INCLUDE THIS NOW

YOU SAW MY POST AND IMMEDIATELY DREW THIS AS A RESPONSE WHILE IN CLASS?? BAHAHAHA IM ACTUALLY SO TOUCHED RN IM TEARING UP WTF THATS SO SWEET OF YOU WTFFFFFFFFF THANK YOU SO MUCH😭😭😭💖💖 (NOW PAY ATTENTION IN CLASS!!🤬🤬)

[philistiniphagottini]

Rec List

This is my first time doing one of these posts so I hope this doesn't turn out chaotic. This post is going to be my rec list because I follow so many amazing and talented x reader writers/artists and I just want to show them love and give them the appreciation they deserve. Since this post may turn out to be long, I will put it all under a read more and I will try to only write a few sentences for everyone or I will ramble on for 15 pages. Please scroll to the end to see any extra notes.

@imastrangeone98 We share a lot of similar interests in fandoms/characters and they are a really nice and chill person. I love reading whatever they post and I absolutely devoured their most recent boothill x reader fic. I could probably write a five page essay on how much I adore them but just know they are an amazing writer.

@sleepygirltumblestoohard Very big into Naruto, especially Madara Uchiha and honestly?? Can't blame them, impeccable tastes. They do write for other Naruto characters don't worry though. I love anything Uchiha related and they write both canon x reader and canon x oc. I know they are currently trying hard to improve their writing and I think they're doing a great job. Keep it up.

@spiiiiiral They are such an amazing little artist and is very big into Yugioh. I absolutely love their arts featuring thief king bakura and yami marik. I like their art style and I'm always excited to see more from them. And they will absolutely convert you into liking the characters that they like. I'm talking full blown essays, they are very persuasive.

@ayyy-pee JJK obsessed and I am so here for it. They are a really, really great writer. I mostly read their JJK one-shots (specifically suguru because I am down bad for that man) but I regularly see them also have a bunch of longer series that they write and there is so many words they have to offer that you can devour. Seriously, if you are into JJK please check them out. I'm pretty sure they also have an open collab event going on so if that's your thing, drop on by.

@tehrevving mostly Devil May Cry, Final Fantasy and Resident Evil. Very talented writer and they have been around for a long time. They have recently been writing a vincent valentine x reader multi chapter fic that I have been bookmarking so i can read later. Chaotic blog, absolutely adore it. love getting notifs on whatever they write.

@queenmuzz mostly Devil May Cry enthusiast but I have seen other fandoms pop up now and then. I love reading their Vergil fics, very nice writing style that just scratches an itch in my brain. They are very nice and welcoming to all, check them out.

@princesschimchim1325 Lots of Honkai Star Rail and I think they are recently getting into Wuthering Waves. Very good writer and they have a bias towards anything related to Blade, Yingxing, Dan Feng and Dan Heng. I love reading whatever they come up with and enjoy their shenanigans.

@husbandomail they have recently moved to this new blog but I believe they have a link to their old blog. Very nice and sweet and they write mostly one-shots and headcannons. They are into a few different fandoms but I enjoy reading what they write for Yugioh and Pokémon. Very pretty blog theme and an amazing little writer. Keep it up!

@imagine-darksiders mostly darksiders, fnaf and I think I've seen bowser pop up a few times. Double trouble because they are so, so talented with both drawing and writing. You can tell they have been dedicated to their craft for years. Seriously I love all the Darksiders writing and drawings they have produced over the years. Their writing is so poetic and they have a lot of ongoing series you can sink your teeth into.

@mubabee amazing artist. multifandom blog but I mostly adore their honkai star rail, genshin impact and demon slayer drawings. I am also a big fan of when they genderbend characters and I seriously am so happy to find artists that love drawing y/n x characters. Check them out for some good art.

@demonichikikomori multi fandom blog but I have noticed a lot of twisted wonderland recently. a lot of headcannons and one shots and I love reading through their works whenever they pop up on my feed.

@rabbbitseason x reader artist. such pretty and amazing drawings. feeding the honkai star rail community so good. I get so excited when another new drawing graces my eyes, please check out their nice artworks.

@kuroshioi new/recent writer that popped up in the last couple of months. mostly into honkai star rail and genshin impact. a lot of short, bite size pieces but they are very nice little reads and I think they are doing an amazing job.

@lorelune such a talented and amazing writer. Mainly for Honkai Star Rail. I love reading their long one-shots and whatever they write for Jing Yuan and Blade. Their descriptions in their writing just satisfies that itch I get in the back of my head. Seriously, I just want to print their words out and devour them, they are so, so good at writing. currently on hiatus

@honeyedgifts recently moved to this new blog. I love reading their bite sized fics and ramblings about the characters they like. very chill person. I believe they are thinking of going on hiatus soon but you should still check them out and share the love!

Okay, I believe that's it and I really hope I didn't miss anyone. If your name is on this list and it makes you uncomfortable, please let me know through my dms and I can take you off. I believe all these artists/writers deserve more love so please check them out and give them a follow if you like what you see. Thanks for reading.

[stranger-opinions]

maybe it's not a writers-block; maybe you just need a break

creativity is a muscle, right?

you need to exercise it to keep it in good shape, to have it ready when you need it and don't we all love those hyperfocused sprints of writing where the words just spill out of our fingertips...

but muscles get sore when you overuse them, will strain when you force them past their limits, they need nourishment to stay healthy and in shape

fandom today has a competitive atmosphere. many wouldn't admit that; it's supposed to be fun after all. just vibing with our mutuals, playing with the blorbos having a fun time online to scratch a few itches.

but the truth is that it can become a lot of pressure rather fast.

putting out several k of (edited) writing a month, setting up painstakingly formatted posts with the right tags and a fun header we spent hours on to look effortlessly cool and eye-catching just to hit post and then feel... nervous. excited too, sure...

but damn, when will the next chapter be finished? or the next one shot? will there be enough time to put a few blubs in between so that the few people who actually seem to care won't forget about us and move on?

writing for writing's sake is a nice notion. the myth of the self-sustaining artist who needs nothing more than a passion and their tools of choice.

but shit isn't just created out of nothing.

what has that all to do with the title of this post do you ask?

very few people can just keep going and going making art like that without needing any breaks and a good portion of those people very likely have very different conditions than most of us have with full-time jobs, families, school and so on.

For many of us writing is a main outlet, an important hobby and a safe space but that still doesn't change that it is a creative hobby, an outlet that demands energy: emotional, mental and physical (typing for hours is hard work if you want to believe it or not) and that sometimes makes it impossible to accept that we just need a fucking break.

"writers-block", in my own experience, is my brain telling me that something is off and that it's on strike until I fucking fix that.

and sometimes it's just that I need a break.

that I need to recharge my creative batteries, take in things that inspire me, that make me happy and get me excited without having to make anything myself. to just be. take some walks amongst trees, watch a new series, read a new book, go into a deep dive of some random topic on wikipedia until I don't know where the fuck I started from.

sometimes I just need to log out, cut the overstimulation of a never ending dashboard, turn off what everybody else on tumblr is doing, how much everbody is putting out, get away from my frustration about "my flopped fic" or the latest fandom drama and reconnect with the real reason I am doing this.

the love for stories and the source material.

for some people those breaks can be as short as two days, for other is might be weeks or months and that is not only okay but totally normal.

sometimes you might realize that the reason you are not writing is that you actually don't want to. sometimes you just want to daydream without the extra work sometimes you're just not in a writing mood and it's not much deeper than that.

that doesn't have to mean you're done with your blorbos. it just means that there are more valid and fun ways to play with them.

don't worry, the fandom will still be there when you decide to pick up the keyboard again. maybe with less people, maybe with many different people but you will always find someone who cares. those who have moved on to different things not come back wouldn't likely have stayed if you had powered through.

fandom shouldn't be a you're in or you're out thing but a place you come to when you want to.

contentification of fandom has had a lot of negative effects on the way we create and so many people fade from their hobby because they simply burn themselves out to a point where it leaves a scar.

so. find something that makes you happy that does not require you to invest too much creational energy. rest those muscles as long as it takes.

nothing you can get on tumblr or ao3 is worth the sore brain, the frustration with yourself and the stress you add onto your mental health ontop of everything else in your life.

recharge, reevaluate, reconnect

have fun

[hcdragonwrites]

River (Jttw-Monkeybuisness)

Ok I wrote another thing for @jttw-monkeybusiness there art inspires me and makes my brain itch and honestly I love Sophie to death so here you go!

And yes I suck at naming things when they are snippets of stuff I just usually name it what it’s about.

‘Getting water should be easy’ Sophie thought.

However it seemed that whatever gods were watching their trek today through China must have been bored and made this their entertainment for the evening.

Force the girl Buddha had plucked out of time to get water. Well it was unfair to assume it was the Buddha but whatever magical force actually had pulled her out of her time? Well that being was a massive dick. Sophie strained her arm, feeling the sway of the tree branch she clung to bobbed under her weight.

The banks of this river were steep as Trip and the group were making their way through mountains. The steep sides slide right into the dark water, rushing by in silent swirls of black- and offering no safe place for any traveler to easily reach it. The tree branch that Sophie now climbed upon, hung low enough off the steep riverbank, almost kissing the water with its bark. Moss had begun to grow from its limbs from the constant moisture. It offered Sophie a perfect opportunity.

She had both legs and arm hooked around the branch as it swayed, one free hand straining forward and dipping the water skins into the dark flow.

Jesus it’s freezing, she thought as her fingers dipped beneath the black current. Must be a runoff from a snow melt… If she fell into it she would be soaked and cold to the bone. Sophie shook herself, scattering that intrusive thought.

‘Only two more skins to go…’. She yanked the first one up, muscles burning. She lay flat, stomach hugging the branch and trying not to slip. Sophie wasn’t the most athletic person but she wasn’t a pushover either. Getting water was something she could do. Maybe she couldn’t fight Gods and humble the heavens like Wukong. Maybe she couldn’t breathe underwater and spear demons like Sandy.

Pigsy- well he was a fighter but mostly she had seen him run either away from a fight, pick a fight with Wukong, or fight to run towards women. Most of the time those women were demons in disguise that Wukong warned about. Sandy and her had a betting game going on silently between themselves as to which women were women and which were demons that wanted to devour Trip or herself. Mostly Trip but sometimes she would be mentioned.

So far the score was tipping in Sandy’s favor(who guessed mostly that the women they ran into were real women)- but only because the last village they had been in had been plagued by a child devouring rat demon. It was a morbid kind of way to make light of a situation that just kept recurring as Pisgy never learned.

Tripitaka even had his own abilities to commend, if some of those abilities didn’t translate over to combat. Staying still, meditating, being able to see the good in everyone - Sophie could hear Wukong now, thoroughly ripping into Trip for that belief- those were all traits that helped.

Sophie- a Girl out of time- was determined to have her own uses.

And if that was just doing minimal tasks then she would be GRAND at them!

She uncorked the last water skin and dipped it beneath the water as twilight began to descend into the gorge. The water turned black by the lack of light made Sophie’s stomach twist just a bit. There’s nothing in the water Sophie- nothing at all.

Her reassurances fell short. She had seen too much of demons and gods and magical mojo to really believe that nothing was staring up at her.

What happened next was a factor of several things. The first of those things we can lay blame at the feet of one Monkey King.

Sun Wukong had been given the task of collecting some fresh meat for the stew Trip was preparing and had sent Wukong to find some. The meat was mostly for Sophie and the rest but Trip would also partake. Being a Buddhist he usually kept to a strict vegetarian diet of noodles and soups. However, even he understood that on the road the pilgrims did not have much choice in diet.

So Wukong had gone, easily catching several rabbits and a large goose from further down the river. After his return and depositing them at Pigsys feet to be cleaned and prepped, Wukong was disappointed in the lack of praise. Usually bringing in a haul of food would give him some thanks- however the person that usually did the thanking was … missing.

“Where is the Reader?” Wukong demanded, arms crossing and tail lashing in annoyance.

Pigsy looked up at him from beneath bushy eyebrows. “Sophie,” Pigsy drawled, taking the first rabbit and cutting it clean of its pelt, “went to fill the water skins.”

“Alone? No one thought to go with her?” Wukong made a scoffing noise. Between her and the Monk there had been too many occasions where a demon had taken them as bait to lure out the infamous Monkey King. Didn’t she know by now that she couldn’t just wander off?

“She is not a Child, Brother.” Sandy interjected. The great water demon was sitting cross legged at the fire, stirring the pot. As Pigsy quickly and methodically cleaned the animals, Sandy was just as quick in adding them to the stew. The aroma was already becoming tantalizing. “She wanted a task and was given one. You know she does not like to be idle when there are things to do.”

“I wasn’t saying idleness was the correct answer.” Wukong picked at an invisible dust mote on his sleeve and flicked it away. He was feigning boredom when in reality he felt an itch under his fur. It was his responsibility to keep the mortals safe on this quest.

That included Trip and Sophie. The monk was easy to keep in one place, unless there were people that kept begging for help. Which - happened more than Wukong would care to admit.Sophie was … not so easily manageable.

That stupid women wanted to be as helpful as possible. Whether that be fetching supplies in town, carrying messages for the monk, or even tending to Yulong, she was always trying to keep busy. Which wouldn’t have been a problem for the Monkey King if it didn’t make his fur itch terribly so.

The itching would only go away after he knew she hadn’t gotten eaten by some wannabe river god.

“She needs to wait until I am back. Then she could have asked me for my help and I would have obliged.”

“I think the monkey likes Sophie.” Pigsy mock stage whispered, earning a murderous glare from Wukong. Pigsy flinched back, rubbing at the phantom pain on his head from the last time he had egged Wukong on a bit too much.

“She is only down by the river.” Sandy peacefully interjected before Wukong to react to Pigsys tone. “Just past the bend- I made sure she knew not to go farther.”

At least Sandy knew how danger inclined the mortals in their group were.

Wukong turned and left the camp, walking to the river not far off. The women wasn’t too far away to warrant an escort- she had learned from the last couple of times of almost being devoured or snatched up to not wander so far- but his fur wouldn’t lie flat on his shoulders. It itched terribly so. The sooner he could see her, the sooner the itching would go away.

As he came around the bend he saw her. Sophie was clinging to a tree that looked like it could be swept away into the river at any moment, legs hugging the branch as one hand dipped into the water. Her hair hung down, almost skimming the black surface. Wukongs fur stopped itching and he smoothed it down. Since no one but he was near Sophie to see, and she being too occupied by the river to even notice, he decided to indulge himself and stared openly.

When she had first joined their pilgrimage he had been pissed. Another human to take care of, to babysit, to feed was not what Sun Wukong, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, had signed up for. If he was being honest with himself, none of this pilgrimage was what Wukong had voluntarily signed up for.

Sophie was strange to boot. Fair of skin, eyes and hair, she looked like a spirit from some heavenly court. However she did not act like any women in the Jade Emperor's Palace, because on one of the more ridiculous of their days where The monk had almost been married to a demon queen and Wukong had to break through and kill a little too much, Sophie had let loose a string of curses that were so foreign and colorful that the Monkey King had been momentarily shaken from his indifference at her to turn and inquire to what those phrases even meant.

It had been the start to something Wukong would never admit openly to. It had grown since that day as he learned that, while she may look pretty, she was no women in courtly garb or village outpost. She had a sharp mind, always asking questions and trying to figure out the why and the how of everything. Why did Wukong have a staff that could shrink and be tucked in his ear? Where had Wukong learned to shapeshifter? How had he been able to master duplicating himself with just a bit of fur and spit?

Sophie was open about questions of herself- where she had come from, what she had done before (something about being an artist) and why she looked the way she did (this last bit was rude on Wukongs part and had had the monk use the circlet around his brow as a reprimand. ‘We don’t ask why they look a certain way Wukong," he had said. The Monkey king had not meant it rudley- more or less he just wanted to know where in the world other people like her existed - that looked like her.)

She didn’t like blood so that was a bit of a downside. But an upside was she wasn’t afraid to go toe to toe when the Monk was being so incredibly and unreasonably unfair in his punishments. Wukong didn’t kill too much. Just enough.

Wukong hadn’t had anyone stick up for him like that.

So Sun Wukong decided to play- though no one else would see it as such. Tormenting and teasing and egging and goading were usually not considered human equivalencies of play. On Flower Fruit Mountain those had been the height of games and pastimes. Finding the little things that would itch someone’s skin, that could in turn get right beneath the armor of good words and embarrass the person enough to stumble out of their rehearsed facade and reveal the true self was a specialty of the Monkey Kings. He had done so with all the attendants in Heaven, with all the would-be demon conquerors that marched onto his doorstep. Dig at something long enough and you will find what makes them tick

So Wukong poked at Sophie’s person. He took things from her bag when bored and kept them away (it wasn’t hard and he didn’t have to even make himself bigger to do so). Wukong would try and goad her into playing pranks with him, sometimes even dragging her halfway through one before letting her know that it was a prank. He would answer her questions, insult her intelligence by calling her stupid women, and challenge her on her moral standings. He did everything in the monkey fashion that would be considered teasing and mildly bullying to figure out who she was.

He didn’t realize till it was too late that this had become more than a game to him. He was enjoying this.

Wukong didn’t get to watch her openly. Pigsy would think him infatuated with her and then he would become insufferable. That couldn’t happen. So Wukong would steal glimpses, brush shoulders, take hidden moments like when Sophie had turned to him, eyes shining and bright, and had begged to be lifted up so she could pet a few monkeys perched within a tree. Wukong could still feel the weight of her on his arm, the smell of her. She had been so enamored with the monkeys above that he didn’t have to worry. He could watch her without disguise.

Like he was now. Her face was screwed up in concentration, lip between her teeth as she corked the water skin and swung it onto the bank. She may be a weak mortal but she had good aim. Sophie placed the last one in the water, blue eyes glittering in the twilight. He would have to teach her how to properly hang. She was so limited in movement on that branch, clinging to it like a cat. It was improper and she could still easily slip into the water and be lost. It was a good thing Wukong was here then.

So it was, in part, the Monkey Kings fault for what happened next. And in part, Sophie’s mind is at fault. Wukong was as silent as a tiger, walking up and onto the tree without a sound. And as he was silent and watching, Sophie’s mind was loud and preoccupied.

She only had one more skin to fill but her mind wouldn’t let go of the thought of there being some beast or creature watching her. Waiting for her. It was just like the irrational fear children get when they swim into the deep part of a swimming pool- that somehow someway a shark would come from the clear cemented depths and devour them.

Only- this wasn’t a clear swimming pool. And this wasn’t some childhood fear anymore. Sophie had seen Tripataka almost go underwater from a river monsters grasping hands. If it hadn’t been for Sandy at that time, the monk would have drowned. She shivered. The sooner she got back to camp and away from the spooky dark water and the night, the better.

“There!” She felt the weight was sufficient enough and quickly corked the water skin. Sophie could get down now, off this tree and back into the warm and comforting light of the fire. Maybe she could ask Wukong for another of his stories- well histories as he called them. He was good at telling stories- if they were centered around himself. She went to throw the water skin, already calming down—

Eyes.

Glowing eyes watching her from above. Something human shaped in the foliage—

“Fucking shit!”

Panic set in and instinct. She flinched back, dropping the skin—

And slipping headfirst into the water. The cold shocked her body, screaming for her to get UP GET OUT DANGER- and she kicked back to the surface, spluttering. The current however was stronger than she thought and was already yanking her down to begin with. Her clothes were a weight that the water happily tugged down, mangling it with the current.

Something shot out and grabbed her around the middle and pulled.

OH GODS THERE IS A WATER DEMON THATS IN HERE! Sophie swung out, flailing wildly to get free. Her hands hit something but it was like hitting stone. She would not end up as someone’s meal or bride or servant or anything else. The thing that had a grip on her didn’t let go. But it didn’t haul her under- it hauled her up. As she breached the surface, she spat water from between her lips, her hair blocking her face.

She breathed in just enough air to start threatening.

“WHOEVER OR WHATEVER YOU ARE, JUST KNOW IF YOU EAT ME YOU WILL REGRET IT.” Sophie breathed in more air so she could get louder- if she was loud enough maybe Sandy or Pigsy would hear. If Wukong was back he would definitely hear her. She had to fight until she could get enough air in her lungs to holler louder. She swung again, connecting to what felt like a face- but it was like runing her hand into a brick wall. “I HAVE A FRIEND WHOS THE BEST MONKEY IN THE WHOLE WORLD WHO WILL SKIN YOU—“

Another hand caught her wrist, holding away. Sophie would just have to swing her free hand around and —

“Stop fucking flailing women you will bring the whole branch back into the river !” The person hissed and Sophie paused. She pulled the wet hair out of her face with her free hand.

“Wukong?”

The Monkey King was holding her close, one arm wrapped around her middle and the other holding one of her previously flailing wrists. His eyes were narrowed to angry yellow slits.

“You idiot who else would it be ?” His face was wet from where Sophie must have obviously punched him and splashed water at him.

“What are you doing out here- I thought-“

“I came to fetch you since you were taking so long and everyone was worrying about you.” He adjusted his grip, and hopped off the branch and back onto solid earth. “Then you had to go and dunk yourself into the river like a fool and I had to fish you out. I was also able to get the water skin you almost lost. ” He held up the skin, tossing it onto the bank.

“I didn’t dunk myself in the river !” Sophie pushed off of Wukong and he let her go, crossing his arms. “If you weren’t spookily hiding in the branches with your glowing eyes I wouldn’t have panicked and lost my grip!”

“I can’t believe you hit me…”

“Of course I would hit you! I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS YOU!” Sophie shouted.

“You should know me enough by now that I’m not like every other gripping demon out there!”

“Wukong how would I know when I’m half drowning in the water and I can’t see you?!” Sophie countered. He rolled his eyes, collecting the cast off water skins she had thrown onto the bank, grumbling about mortals and being blind.

“What were you doing?”

Wukong didn’t reply to her, his tail twitching agitatedly. Sophie looked down at herself. She was drenched from head to bare foot in water. Her skin was already starting to break out in goosebumps as the sun sank behind the mountains, casting the gorge into shadow.

“Why were you hiding in the branches?” Sophie pressed, collecting her shoes and holding them in hand. She would have to be careful walking back not to step on anything. Putting her shoes on now would only get them wet from her pant legs being sodden. Wet shoes were also not fun to walk in and they had a long trek tomorrow. Trip wanted to get to the next monastery and have as he liked to call it “an honest meal” which mostly consisted of mushrooms, noodles and broth. Trip was a vegetarian by nature but on the journey he did at times have to make sacrifices.

“Again I wasn’t hiding. The great Sun Wukong doesn’t hide.” Wukong replied, combing his wet fur back into place. “I was coming to fetch you and bring you back for supper. It’s not my fault you didn’t hear me.”

“Did you call out to me?”

“I was making enough noise a deaf and blind beggar could have heard me!” Wukong patted his pant leg where the majority of the water had gotten onto him. It wasn’t as bad as the full drenching Sophie had taken.

Sophie could smell the lie even as Wukong ignored her angry glower.

“Bull-bull s-shit!” She challenged but it came out between chattering teeth. Fuck it got cold fast.

Wukong paused in his own musings, hands pausing in inspecting himself and turned. He peered up into Sophie’s face, so close that he was almost nose to nose. The Monkey King looked at her eyes, down to her lips, then across the rest of her.

“Um… Wukong?”

“You're cold.” Wukong tapped his own lips, and pointed out the raised goose flesh on her arms. “Blue lips and bumps mean cold” His voice was much softer now. “Stupid women.”

He stepped back, hands crossing over his chest again. He looked her up and down then demanded “Take that off.”

“Excuse me?!”

“I’ll turn around, just take off your wet shirt!” Wukong shouted back. “You have those dry … er, shorts right?”

“Yes back in my bag.”

Wukong nodded once.

“Good. Take off your shirt.” He turned around, good to his word.

Sophie did so- shivering as the cold air clung to her skin. The cloth was heavy with water and she sighed. It wouldn’t be dry until well into tomorrow- she would be forced to wear her ‘otherworldly’ clothing. It was fine by her but if they stopped by a village it also meant she would have to wait outside. Sophie had learned the last time that walking into a village with odd clothes could be one of several different reactions, all mostly negative and involving the villagers calling her a demon or witch. Or throwing rocks at her. As she peeled herself free from the sodden clothing the night air kissed her skin and sent her teeth chattering harder. “D-done.”

Wukong hadn’t turned around but he had divested himself of his own robed shirt, holding it out and behind himself. Sophie tried not to stare at his back too long.

“Put it on.” It was kindness Sophie wasn’t expecting. Wukong, the last time he had given her his shirt to wear, had been an order from Tripataka. She had to wash her clothes after a heavy rainstorm had her falling in mud. Of course she had had no spare tops- they all needed to be washed from the travel smell and the dirt. So Trip had ordered Wukong to give up his shirt. It hadn’t been willing kindness but Sophie had still taken it as that.

But this? This was unexpected. Sophie opened her mouth to reply when Wukong continued, “I can’t believe I’m going to have to wash it again of your stink.”

Well so much for kindness. Sophie thought. First the monkey had scared her into the river. Then he had rescued her and blamed her for falling in? All because she couldn’t hear him? She didn’t believe that- not for a second. Great Sage Equal to Heaven Sun Wukong had not been walking loudly. He hadn’t even tried to call out to her to get her attention. What had he been doing when he was on the branch? How long had he been there?

Well, Sophie thought, I should be more aware of my surroundings- or at least not let my mind run away with the rest of my senses.

Though in all fairness if Wukong had wanted to sneak up on her, she would never have known. He was too quiet for his own good and it played into how well he could slip frogs into Pigsys blanket roll.

Sophie shrugged the shirt up and over her head, feeling the residual warmth from Wukong already transferring to her skin.

“At least you won’t get sick and worry the Monk.” Wukong said. Sophie tapped his shoulder and he turned. Without asking, he grabbed her sodden shirt and held it out in front of him.

He may have caused her to fall in. He may have been trying to scare her or something else. But he had pulled her out of the river. He had given her his shirt- free of an order. Sophie was beginning to read the guilt through his actions. Whatever Wukong had meant to do- he hadn’t meant to do that.

“…. Thank you Wukong.”

He grunted, holding Sophie’s shirt in one hand like someone would hold a gross bug.

“What would you do without me? You are completely incapable of keeping yourself safe. Too weak to fight, and too uncoordinated to even balance properly. What were you doing using only one arm for the water? You should have hooked your legs over the trunk instead. ” Wukong walked only a pace ahead of Sophie, slowing whenever she winced over the ground. At least the ground was only slightly rocky here.

“Maybe I wouldn’t fall in rivers because the person that is so worried about my safety didn’t just scare me half to death.” She shot and Wukong merely grinned wider.

“ It seems you forget how to say ‘You are Welcome Wukong’ ! It was just a dip in the water and I was right there to keep you from drowning.”

“Uh huh.”

“ It was needed.” He sniffed the drenched clothing and grimaced, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “You did stink.”

“Oh hahaha let me laugh it up- not like there’s soap and a bathtub waiting at every spot we stop.” Sophie rubbed her arms, pulling her hair back from her face to tuck behind her ears. “You stink too when you come back from slaughtering half a hoard of demons ya know?”

“I take care of myself. Unlike you.”

“I thought you were some river monster coming to drown me and eat my bones you ass.” Sophie tilted her head and squeezed some water off the edges of her hair. She was going to need a brush, the bits of hair already curling and tangling together. “Lurking in the shadows above me is not a way to reassure a girl you aren’t there to devour them.”

“All the more reason,” Wukong crowed, “Not to go without an escort. If you are going to go anywhere, you have to take me with you. You are in a King's care after all. It reflects badly upon my own standing as King and guardian of this pilgrimage if you end up between the teeth of some demon. Mortals like you and the Monk should know this by now.”

“Sandy knew where I was.”

“And look at the good that did you.”

There was no popping Sun Wukongs bubble of pride- he had already wrapped this story up as a great rescue of some kind. He didn’t grin about it, but Sophie could see he was indifferent to the chaos he had caused her. She wished she could throw him sometimes. Maybe he would think twice about scaring her if she could dunk him in a river.

“…stupid monkey.”

Wukong turned at that, grinning now with all teeth. The game was afoot now in full force and he felt it.

“What we’re you saying as I pulled you up? Something like “A friend whos the best monkey in the world?’”

“If he really was the best he wouldn’t have half drowned me.” Sophie pointed out, sniffing. They were nearing the fire, and the smell of Sandy’s stew was enough to make her stomach give an audible gurgle.

“I didn’t.” Wukong corrected, helping her over a bit of prickly thorn bushes without being promoted. Maybe he did feel a smidge guilty then. He usually had to be begged to assist - or ordered by Trip. “ You slipped. It’s not my fault you can’t hear or see, stupid women.”

“Keep telling yourself that Wukong. Maybe you’ll make it true.”

As Sophie entered the camp she was bombarded from all sides by the concern of her fellow pilgrims. Sandy rose from the fire- a bowl of stew already being shoved in her hands. Pigsy threatened and yelled at Wukong enough that both of them started to get into a spat. Tripitaka had to stand, to command them to stop before it escalated from mere name calling to physical fighting. Trip then held out Sophie’s bag and she gratefully took it and dipped behind a bit of greenery several paces beyond to change out of her drenched pants and into the comfy pajama shorts and a comfy hoodie. When she came back Pigsy was still growling out threats while a disinterested Wukong cleaned his nails. He looked up briefly at her then away.

“When we reach the next village we will grab you a spare.” Tripitaka spoke around a bowl of noodles. He had opted just for noodles tonight, leaving the meat to the rest of the group. His smile was kind and apologetic. “Sophie you will probably have to wait outside the village till we can get you a replacement.”

She nodded. She could risk going into the village with her regular attire on but … being chastised and poked at by the villagers was not a pleasant experience. Once was enough for her.

“When you guys go into the village could you ask for some healing balm- or maybe a big hat?” Sophie looked to Sandy. “The sun is really starting to burn my skin and I only have so much left of my other world stuff.” Trying to describe the items in her bag at times left different reactions from the group- or more questions. Sophie didn’t want to answer those questions at the moment, hungry and cold.

Sandy nodded, passing a bowl to Wukong on her right. “I will ask for you, Sophie.”

As the group dug into their suppers and then settled for the night, Sophie was glad the fire was banked high. The chill was being chased from her bones and, even if the ground wasn’t comfortable, she looked on the bright side. She hadn’t been eaten. As Wukong took the first watch and Pigsy already was snoring, Sophie closed her eyes—

And woke to the stars still shining in her face as something bumped beside her head. She startled up, blinking out the sleep that clung.

“Hello-?”

“Shhh.” Wukong was crouched beside her, his tail being the culprit of what woke her up. His face looked tired with sleep, the scowl deeper and more furious. He shoved something into Sophie’s lap. She looked down. They were new clothes- a robbed top and pants.

“If you tell the Monk I stole it, I will give you a thorough washing in the river.” Wukong hissed, pulling at Sophie’s bag and rummaging through the contents. Well there he goes again, just digging through my stuff. It didn’t bother her anymore since Wukong rarely kept any of the items of hers he pocketed. He pulled out the coin string, taking some of the bronze rings. “I’m taking some of these so it looks like I bought them. Got it ?”

“So you are feeling guilty for startling me into the water.” Wukong opened his mouth, to argue, to plead his case that no he was not feeling guilty he was Sun Wukong and he did not feel guilt, when Sophie smiled up at him and laid back down.

“It’s ok. Your secret is safe with me-“ she grogely replied, laying back down and curling over the clothes. Sophie patted the ground beside her. “Your watch is over right?”

“Yes.” His head was cocked to the side, like a dog confused.

“Good. Get some sleep.” Sophie closed her eyes. She didn’t hear him move off but she knew he had settled just a bit away from her.

“And Wukong?”

A grunt from behind her- already settling into his spot, back to her.

“Thanks. I forgive you for almost drowning me.”

“I didn’t drown you.”

“I’ll take that as ‘your welcome’.”

[littledigits]

thoughts on the cut episodes and ppls reactions 'n stuff

Since it was confirmed that a few more episodes of Hilda were written but cut, I do think the reaction of people finding this out is really interesting and not just because its fairly common in the industry and isint a sign of anything bad necessarily. I mean heck, in a weird way being behind the scenes and then seeing how people interpret things, what they take as important, what they think is a thread…all of that is interesting. When your job is basically trying to get people to pick up what you're putting down storywise its kind of a neat topic, because everyone communicates in their own way.

BTW before I keep going this is not a post to say dont crit/vent/complain/whatever about whatever the heck you want in hilda or any media, you do you. I think peoples honest takes are fascinating (said in victoria van gale voice) and even just people speaking their mind shows that they are interested and they care so that matters. Also not one singular post triggered this, its just been on my mind as I surface level read things so no stressies.

When It comes to the cut episodes, I'm seeing some people assume that whatever was cut would have fixed some of the crits they may have had about the season..and who knows, maybe yes? But I'd say ultimately probably not. Not because they dont include things that people want to see, or may have some topics people want expanded on ..but because thats just impossible in the grand scheme of things.

I mean this applies to shows in general, not just hilda. Every person who watches a show has their own idea of what the show represents to them. For some of its more of the surface events or characters where as others connect it with a deeper emotion. A lot of people respond to different tones of the episodes, which there are many. Some people prefer the one off adventures that stand alone as their own stories and others want to see more of a stronger through line. Some may see a new character and expect a new arc and thread, while others wonder why we couldn't've used a previously introduced character. Some may read between the lines more and others may take what is presented as very straight forward and literal …and no one is WRONG, because our big wrinkly brain meats all have their own tastes and ways of imputing information.

Television animation is rife with factors that actually futz with the quality and ability of the team to make a beautiful, amazing product like EVERY DAY. The script process and what goes into production is just one. The team is made up of many creatives all with their own varied experiences and voices just like the audience. In order for people to have their own voices and say, you are going to end up with some things that hit better then others, especially if the team is allowed to grow and experiment and play a little. Hilda has always been a show where we've been able to have a lot of creative say, and i think that sincerity comes through ! but with the sincerity and that humanity, it also means that there are going to be things that arnt going to make sense in the grand scheme of things lol. Even the writers and creators and producers have differing opinions on what to explore and dive into, probably more so then fandoms haha. Having more episodes may scratch some itches but not all, HECK, those episodes being cut could have re-allocated resources to other areas that helped elevate your fav ep of the season ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ who knows! Schrodinger's episodes! (also ngl I was having cold sweats over the scope of some of them as cool as they were. The season may have been shorter but it was intense..it takes a long time to do stuff that looks that clean and crisp)

Imperfect art is very human! Do the best you can at the time with the factors you have. I was given so much trust and freedom on my episodes, and I was just happy to do something fun that allowed me and my team to grow and learn. I was fucking STOKED to get a one off story because it was way less pressure for me to take my next step directing cuz just doing the thing is a feat. Any sincerity you feel cant come through if that means we're afraid that we cant make mistakes, or do a story choice ppl wont vibe with. All you can do is do the best you can, see if people are picking up what you're putting down, and grow from it for next time.

Anyway, just a thought ramble. Its not to say do or dont do this or think this way blah blah. I just love that storytelling is messy and complex and everyones gonna take it a lil differently, especially if you have a team where you allow lots of voices to have input. It is all just a big experiment to see if people leave with a particular experience by putting your resources into the things you have that matter, and try you best to distract from burnt edges or patched up holes that happened throughout the process of making the dang thing lol.

[suzy-queued]

DVD Commentary: Out of Nowhere

I got a request from @doshiart for behind-the-scenes commentary from Out of Nowhere. @shamelessdvdcommentary

Give us some stats - (when you wrote it, word count, how long it took to finish, is it a one-shot/multi-chapter, etc) 86,511 words, 15-chapters. I wrote it between November 2022 - January 2024.

What was the initial inspiration for your story? I love murder ballads. I love graphic novels. So when I saw the book In the Pines at my local library, I snatched it up. This book takes old murder ballads and turns them into short stories, told in graphic format. My favorite one was "Where the Wild Roses Grow," based on the Nick Cave song.

I took some very loose elements from this story: A secluded property, a guy escaping from prison, a person protecting their family's gold. The prisoner wooing the gold protector in order to get close enough to rob them. Doesn't that scream Gallavich?

In the murder ballad there's, well, murder. The prisoner dies by the end. Boy, was I tempted to do that in my story.

What was your favorite scene to write? In each story, there's a scene that pops in my head early on that I base the whole setup around. It's the one that I'm gleefully waiting to write. For this story, it was the "cleaning guns" scene in chapter 7, when the sexual tension is high and Ian tantalizes Mickey as he works.

How did you come up with the title? My favorite murder ballad of all time is "El Paso" by Marty Robbins. There's a line in that song, "From out of nowhere, Felina has found me."

The placeholder title was "Gallagher Gold."

Are there any little moments or references you hope readers will notice? I made this note early on: "Ian has a high PHYSICAL IQ. Mickey has a high VISUAL IQ." I used that to make character decisions throughout. Ian was good with his body and his posture. He was good at carrying things and balancing things, climbing and shooting. Mickey was obsessive about patterns and puzzles and solving challenges.

Was there anything you struggled to write? If so, how did you overcome this? Chapter 13, oh my god. That's the hardest thing I've ever written. I was dreading it for months. It's a tense culmination of everything the story has been building to: love, betrayal, physical and emotional pain. The land gets torn up, and so does their relationship. I overcame it by taking lots of deep breaths and writing small chunks every day. I made sure that every sentence was exactly what I wanted to convey, without letting the prose take its own (lazier) path.

Favorite line in the story? “I’m not a fucking Viper.”

Did the storyline change in any way as you wrote the story? When I started this story, I was sure that I didn't want to do another long multi-chap fic. I outlined it as a 5-chapter short, maybe 30,000 words. Then the "what if" whispers started happening, and it grew to a full 15-chapter outline. Most of the chapters had very short descriptions. One was just "fun and games on the land." One was just "This wasn’t supposed to happen, Gallagher."

Other possible settings included: an abandoned church with a small cemetery, and old hospital, a forgotten amusement park. I wrote "somewhere old-timey that would have land."

What are you most proud about in the story? (plot, characterization, dialogue, twist/cliffhanger, etc) The art! I had so much fun with it. I based the style off the old Penguin classics, like the Grapes of Wrath cover below. (Where they had the little penguin, I put the double-triangle Viper tattoo). I'm also showing my concept sketch for chapter 1 art.

Are there any ‘behind the scenes’ info you’d like to share? I hand-wrote the story first, and it filled two notebooks:

Here are some research shots on the land and the equipment:

I took this photo while I was working. Welcome to the inside of my brain:

Reading back the story now, is there anything you’d change or add? I was itching to dramatize more of Ian and Mickey's lives while they were apart. It would have been fun to have 5-6 chapters of them learning to be whole humans again. But ultimately, that wouldn't serve the story. I did a time jump instead.

Are there any ‘easter eggs’ in your story - e.g. references to other stories you’ve written, a trope you often use etc? The story is set in Fox River Grove. This entirely happened because @lalazeewrites introduced me to the town in their comments on Estate of Blood and Trust. So the events of EOBAT and OON are taking place in neighboring towns!

Did you have a beta or a friend who helped you as you wrote? @mzshko helped me figure out the best way to structure chapters 2 & 3. She was patient enough to read an alternate fully-written version of both chapters and tell me which option worked best.

Anything else you’d like the readers to know about the story? Three months into writing this story, I stopped and did a self-analysis because it wasn't igniting. I wrote, "Could it be that I haven't put enough of myself into it?" So I re-evaluated and dug deeper and made it as personal as I could.

I can't emphasize enough how interwoven details of my own life were in this story. I helped my dad install that big aluminum gate in the woods. I used 5-gallon jugs of water to brush my teeth and sponges to bathe. I washed clothes by hand and cooked on a propane stove. I hauled and stacked logs from fallen trees. I had a love/hate relationship with my family's land and ached to be back in civilization, like Ian. My dad used to tell me bedtime stories about escaped prisoners (Mickey?!) roaming the woods and killing small children.

This story is a love letter to my dad, who was dying the entire time I was writing. He passed away in May of 2024.

This is open to all writers! Pick your favorite story you’ve written or your most popular or the one you think deserves some more love! Or ask your followers to suggest their favorite fic of yours!