#the bigger pieces are really fun but so are the smaller ones

[salamispots]

confetti cat + back view for fun

[mar64ds]

can i hear the story for your fangame?

i'm still only in the beginning of the story but basically 'what if sammy macks murder mystery'

[autistic-shaiapouf]

Thinking about huevember posts and thinking. I may delay these bc I'm feeling ambitious about some of them

[pterribledinosaurdrawings]

could you tell me more about spoonflower? i'm interested in uploading my own designs, but i'm not entirely sure how it works or how much it pays. thank you!

Sure! When you first upload your design, it'll look like this.

The standard DPI for printing on all the fabric sites I've seen is 150, and since I made this pattern at 200 DPI that means Spoonflower will print it bigger than I want it unless I change it here. So I click on the "change DPI" thing, type in "200" and click "change". Sometimes I find it doesn't save, so I always go back later to check and make sure it did save the right DPI.

(You can avoid this by just changing your image to the right DPI before uploading, but sometimes I want the option to make it a bit bigger, just in case.)

If you want to make multiple sizes of the same pattern available you'll have to upload a different version for each one and change the size individually. For example, I drew my Bathroom Dinosaurs pattern pretty large and at 150 DPI, and left that as is for the big version.

But I wanted a small version too, so for that one I changed it to 670 pixels per inch so it'd print much smaller.

You write in the title, tags, and description, and you can put any links to other pages or references in the "Additional Details" section.

(Leaving links isn't usually necessary, but sometimes it is, like how I wanted to leave a link to the original 1760's teapot for my crinoid fossil pattern.)

At this point, you can order things printed with your design, but nobody else can yet. You have the option to show the design publicly, but I like to keep it private until I've ordered my proofs and can sell it.

Now, to order proofs! DO NOT GET THE CUT SWATCHES!!! They are SO much more expensive than getting a fill-a-yard, because cutting and packaging all the little pieces is a lot of extra labour. Wether you have a few designs, or a lot, just get a fill-a-yard.

To make a fill-a-yard you first need to make a collection. Collections can be either public or private, so I keep a private collection called "new designs to proof", and I put all my new designs in there until I've ordered them. You can also add other people's patterns to a collection, so if you have extra space to fill up or you want little bits of a bunch of other people's patterns for a quilt or something, add whatever you want to your collection.

On the collections page when you hover your mouse over one you'll see a little patchwork symbol show up in the middle along the bottom edge, and you click on that.

That'll take you here, and you choose a layout and a fabric.

For some reason the fabric options here are a bit limited and vary depending on the layout. I like to get either the 1 yard/42 designs in cotton poplin, or the 2 yards/48 designs in cotton sateen, but there are plenty more you could try.

I'll click the latter for this example. (The squares in this one are the perfect size for pleated face masks, and I have a few made from mine and my friend's fabrics.)

Then you just click on a design and click on however many squares/rectangles you want it to fill. It usually takes a few seconds for them to show up.

You can have just one little sample of each, or you could make half the fabric be one design and fill up the rest with little samples. (That's what I did for my brown monster waistcoat - I printed juuuust enough of a fill-a-yard to cut out a waistcoat from, and the rest was other samples.)

You can change it around if you want. Once you're happy with it, put it in the cart and buy it!

I'm not going to order this one since it's an example with designs I've already proofed, but here's what my monster patterns looked like when they arrived.

Also, I want to point out that you could VERY easily make some really fun pride flags using the fill-a-yard! You might have to have it be only part of the fabric, depending on the number of stripes, but you could make it be any texture or pattern you want. Here's a quick example I did with other people's patterns by searching "(colour) marble texture".

With only 4 stripes I'd have to fill the rest of the space in with something else and cut it off, but it would still be pretty big! (The edge of that purple stripe looks jagged in the preview, but they print perfectly straight.)

I have not done this, but someone should! Just wash it, trim the blank edges off, hem it, and you've got a flag!

(Don't do this with the 2 yards/4 designs option though, it looks like nice stripes in the thumbnail but it's made for infinity scarves and there's a gap and dotted line down the middle for cutting. Bleh.)

Anyways, once your samples arrive you can make the designs available for sale! If you have any changes you'd like to make, to the size it prints at or the pattern itself, you can make them now.

I found the small version of the Bathroom Dinosaurs print was too small when I first got my proofs, so I just reduced the DPI a bit.

And you can replace the image with a new, edited version by clicking "upload revision".

So when my brown coffin pattern printed really washed out and grey, I replaced it with a more saturated version and was good to go, no need to order another proof.

Down at the bottom of the design editing page you can now click on the options to list it publicly, and to sell it on fabric and/or wallpaper. I make all of them available on fabric, and some on wallpaper if I deem them to be appropriately large.

They'll pay you 10% of the sales price of the fabric, or slightly more if you sell over a certain amount in a month. There's a whole page of questions and answers about it.

You also get a 10% discount if you order fabrics with your own designs. (Although, personally, if I'm ordering my own designs on fabrics for me then I'd prefer to get them from somewhere like ArtFabrics, since they use reactive dyes instead of inks, so their blacks actually print black and don't make the fabric stiffer like Spoonflower's do. And also because they're here in Canada so there's less shipping cost. Sadly they don't have an option to sell your designs though.)

Spoonflower also has weekly design contests which are announced a few weeks in advance and have pretty big store credit prizes (the first place one is 200 USD), and I've entered a few times, but I don't vote often because Spoonflower is such a huge site that there are frequently over a thousand entries and it's really time consuming to scroll through them all.

Ok, that's everything I can think of! I also put all my patterns on sone things on Redbubble, since they have options for repeating patterns on some things.

[luveline]

eddie and roan | you realise how happy you are, which leads to some late night tears. eddie comforts you, and roan wants a hug too ♥︎ dad!eddie munson x fem!reader

The filter on the fish tank makes a droning but quiet sound. You wonder how Lucky the fish is faring with his Christmas themed decorations, and struggle to think back on the day and remember if he's been fed his allotted pinch of fish flakes. 

You can't move to check. 

Sorry, Lucky, you think, looking down at your small family with a big smile. Eddie's wiped, sleeping deeply enough that his lips have parted, and you can feel the heat of every breath he exhales against your neck. His hair tickles you with each rise and fall of his shoulders. 

Rammed to your ribcage lies his daughter Roan. She's slipping further and further into your lap, tiny hand pressed to your tummy, heat lining every contiguity between you. Like Eddie, she runs hot. With their warmth on each side and the air conditioning up high, you're definitely sweating. Your stomach gurgles passionately, dinner a forgotten ideal, and you've needed to use the bathroom for the last twenty minutes. You're hungry, the fish is hungry, but you refuse to disturb them. 

Roan looks like she's made of silk when she sleeps. Eyes closed sweetly, lashes skimming the skin under her eyes, there isn't a wrinkle to be found on her smaller face, no stress, no lines. She has a freckle under her lips, like Eddie has a freckle under his eye, a dark beauty mark that you touch very gently. She smiles in her sleep.

This is everything you've ever wanted. Everything you thought you might never have. 

Eddie had fallen asleep trying to soothe you, your arm pulled loosely to his chest, his callused fingertip stroking long, feather light lines down the length of your arm over and over as you'd watched TV. A Charlie Brown Christmas is long over. You've muted the sound altogether, advertisements flashing up one after another. 

Eddie's hand twitches around your wrist, pulling you closer, and in tandem, Roan's hand rubs over your midriff like she's looking for you. They push in closer. 

You think of all the times you've worried about being alone. How often have you cried over that? Terrified you'll never find someone. A very private, and yet very widespread fear. That you'll be alone forever, and that it will hurt the whole time. 

You'd just — you'd seen him and Roan in the grocery store for the tenth time, in his overalls with his hair a little bit limp from a full day, and Roan had been younger but not any less lovely, and it had been terrible timing, really, but you couldn't not speak to him. 

The way he'd spoken to her had clued you in to his heart. You know now that he's a dick, a sweetheart but a fucking dick, who's sarcastic and picky and play fights at the first sign of mutiny. He does ridiculous stuff in bed that should kill the mood and never does, he makes you feel loved everywhere you go. And loving him is just as fun as being loved by him; kissing him all softly to get your way and to watch his lovesick defeat; brushing his hair straight out of the shower while the water drips on your shirt so you can curl each piece one at a time around the handle; crawling up the length of the bed and into his lap to watch him try to hide his blush. You'd do a lot of bad things for him if it meant he'd be happy and safe.  

You'd do even worse to protect Roan. 

This is it, right? You and Eddie are getting married. Roan loves you as a daughter loves their mom. It's two days until Christmas, you're first together in the home you've made, and they're both sleeping soundly. 

You don't really realise you're crying. You're so happy, and your eyes start to sting, hand carding through Roan's unbound hair in a fruitless attempt at self-soothing. 

You tremble with tears. They aren't dramatic, there's no sobbing, just cheesy happy tears with a great big smile the whole time. Still, your sniffling wakes one of your babies, the bigger mess of curls scratching over your collar. 

"Hey," Eddie mumbles, "was I sleeping, lovebug?" He crosses his hand over your chest. It lands unapologetically in the curve of your neck.

"Lovebug?" you ask, tears abating quick, replaced by a cheerful and startled laughter. 

"Is it too late to try new ones?" He sits up, hand to your jaw, your face, then dropped as he leans away. His back clicks three different times. "Sorry if I was heavy."

"Eddie, you're not heavy" you say quietly. In what world have you ever cared? He can climb all over you any hour of the day for the rest of time if he likes. 

"Ro slept too?" He scrubs his eyes, pulls all the hair out of his face, and catches you red handed, wiping tears off of your tacky cheeks. 

"It's not-" 

"What's wrong?" 

"-what it looks like," you finish. 

"No, seriously, what's wrong?" His tone leaves no room for argument. 

"I was thinking about you. About us. I'm really happy, you know?" Tears rise up again. "I'm so happy. So, so happy, Eddie." 

There aren't any other words to describe how you're feeling. This is pure, constant happiness. Sure, you and Eddie argue sometimes, Roan can be hard to handle, work sucks and everything is too expensive, but you're happy. Life is what you want.

"My love," Eddie says grandly, a hint of genuineness softening his otherwise theatric delivery, "don't cry, I'm begging you. Not over that." 

He moves in without hesitation for a hug. "Are you real?" he asks, lips pressed to your cheek, arms an irreplaceable security needle behind your back. "Come on. Love you so much, you know that? And I'm- so happy you're happy. M'happy too. Gonna make us this happy forever." 

"I'm so lucky," you add, and that's it, you're dissolving into tears underneath him. He tsks, doubling down his comforting efforts. 

"Are you okay?" he asks. 

"I'm fine." 

"Are you sure? Is there something that's making you think about all of this?" 

"Only good things. I promise." 

"Okay." He rubs your back, kissing the side of your head. "God, you freaked me out. Not that you can't tell me everything, 'cause you can, but I really wasn't expecting it. Like, shock horror." 

You laugh, giddy, his touch and his voice both working to relax you. "Chill, lovebug." 

He snorts, digs his nose into your neck like a shithead.

You feel smaller arms come to life, a warm body trying desperately to worm its way between you and Eddie. 

"Let me in," Roan complains sleepily. "I want a hug too." 

You're reluctant to let Eddie go, even though it's Roan, because it might've just been the best hug you've ever had. You and Eddie part on the left to let her in, and you kiss her cheeks in sync without meaning two. She smells amazing, baby shampoo and Johnson's almond and honey soap. 

"Is it Christmas yet?" Roan asks. 

Tired and yet her priorities stay the same. 

"Not yet, babe." Eddie pats her back, placating. "Can you hear that? That sound, like thunder?" 

"Yeah?" 

"That's Y/N's stomach. Come help dad make dinner?" 

Roan kisses you and sighs as Eddie picks her up like she weighs nothing. She holds out her hands to you, bleary eyes widening in surprise. 

"Save me," she pleads, a soft mirror of her dad's drama. 

"Don't save her, she's fine." 

You stand up, stretch, and watch them both disappear around the corner of the hallway toward the kitchen. "I'm gonna save her," you call. Your voice drops to a murmur. "After I feed poor Lucky." 

[orange-artist]

Hii, I hope this ask find you well :)

(Warning, I talk a lot, sorry abt that lmao)

Your gods au has been living rent free in my head. I'm still catching up on One piece, currently finished Marineford and your comic on how this would have gone differently really healed my poor heart (cry).

Anyway, I have this concept in my head that I wanted to share with you. Remember in Thriller Bark when Moria was stealing Luffy's shadow ? I like to think that since he's a god it definitely cannot be this easy.

Picture this :

Moria doing his little evil laugh while putting the shadow inside Oars.

And he wait, and wait and...nothing.

"What the-"

"I don't think they want to obey you."

Everyone turned around completely confused to the boy who was definitely supposed to be unconsious on the ground right now.

Moria didn't like his smile, and since when were his eyes red ?

Just then, the shadow pool out of Oars. Moving like liquid across the floor until they reach the feet of their rightful owner. The pirated sigh quietly in relief as his shadow is returned to him.

And now the shadow spread freely behind the boy. Filling the floor, growing bigger and bigger until it reached the ceiling. The light grew dimmer as the smile on the boy and his shadow grew wider.

Moria, shouldn't be afraid of a mere shadow, yet as he watched the pitch black behemoth clinging to the wall of his own home, he can't help but shiver.

The damn thing was as big as fucking oars, and the grin didn't help it make it more friendly.

"How do you... What are you doing?"

Moria looked at the boy, who look even smaller with his own shadow looming over his head.

Luffy smiled softly, as he remember something very important to him.

"A long while ago, my brother taught me how to talk to my own shadow. That way I was never really alone."

His grin now turned manic matching the one of his shadow.

"Do you want to see what I taught them too ?"

Btw english is not my native language so I hope it's alright I just wanted to share a bit of a that scene I keep having on my head.

Anyway, since Chopper and Usopp are witnessing all this, they are completely appalled. And when asked about is later, Luffy just say 'yeah lmao my big bro taught that, it's pretty cool right? :D' And they just have to accept it ig. Luffy might as well

- \(:/) /-

It's Sabo who taught him that. Since I think I remember you saying somewhere that he had shadows following him everywhere, and he's also called "Shadow of judgement". I just think it would be fitting if he could talk and control shadows in a way. And of course he taught his little crybaby brother a few trick so he could always have a friend to talk to. So Luffy is basically bestie with his own shadow. (I just think it would be sweet af.) It give him even more criptid vibe. Like you think he's talking to himself looking at the wall or the floor, but truly he just speak with his bestie lmao.

Anyway these are just my thoughts, do whatever you want with this

Have a nice day <3

AYOOOOOO

HOLY SHIT.

Pop off!!!! That's very chewy.

I've been thinking about Thriller Bark and

I think Luffy's shadow would be too free to follow anyone's orders. 😌 I personally wouldn't, uh, personify it, but goddamn is Luffy being friends with his shadow a fun thought.

[mywons]

❛ boyfriend!jungwon headcanons.

▸ ִֶָ tags [ boyfriend ] jungwon x reader, fluff + mentions of kissing + cute wonnie + just a happy relationship + mentions of petnames. warnings! && possible warning : very brief (2) mentions of marriage + mentions of jealousy / possessiveness. ✿ 0.6k words —

## HEADCANONS UNDER THE CUT !

won is very . . . loveable

he's super affectionate & loveydovey, he does any & everything to show how deep his love for you runs

dates with him are usually full of spontaneity. quick & fun picnics, a playful movie night with takeout

out of all of enhypen, i think jungwon is the second most type to date-to-marry (after mr. husband material park jongseong). so while he's very fun and playful, he's serious about you too

he wants you to know that he sees a future with you and if you don't see that with him, what's the point?

likes to keep polaroids of you scattered across his room's walls

collects the silliest little trinkets & souvenirs whenever the group goes someplace new, only to bring them back to you

the type of bf to text you at 3am and ask if you wanna raid the nearest corner store

kisses you very often. as a greeting, as a goodbye, as a reward, bc you look cute, he literally just loves kissing you

doesn't get jealous easily but so so so clingy when he does ,, will pull you towards him and refuse to let go

so so so so caring, smothers you with all the love in the world whenever you're feeling down :(

petnames include: lovey & pretty baby

likes to sleep with his head on your chest so that he can hear the rhythm of your heartbeat <3

definitely randomly calls you at all times of the day, just saying he misses you

^^ "i called you earlier why didn't you answer :(" "bc i'd literally just left your place" "so..????"

he's like ur MY lover u need to be attached to my hip at all times bc ur my baby !!!!!!

and he's so real for that honestly

i think he to an extent feels an overwhelming sense of protectiveness for you and because of that, he tends to overthink ab if even the smallest things he does are affecting you negatively

constantly making sure you're happy/content in your relationship, asking if there's anything else you'd like for him to do

he's just super careful with you

nd so supportive oh em gee !! if ur an idol like him, he's at every single show he can make it to. cheering you on, shouting "thats my baby 🫵"

if you're interested in smthn else/neither of you are idols, he's still definitely supporting you in whatever interest you have

constantly complimenting you and praising how your brain works. he admires everything about you

sometimes buys stuff in a bigger/smaller size so that he has an excuse to wear it and then give it to you

^^ "oh it doesn't really fit me so here you go :]" knowing damn well he just wants you to smell like him

definitely competitive when it comes to you. "oh yeah? well my lover can do this and this"

forever seeking any reasons to make you feel good about yourself

likes when you play with his hair after a long day or even sing to him, ironically.

really just enjoys the sound of your voice

would love to adopt a bunch of cats and grow old with you <3

never is the one to end any contact with you first. oh you guys are on the phone? better hang up first bc he isn't. won't even pull from a hug first, and would run out of oxygen if it meant keeping his lips on yours instead of resorting to pulling away

sees himself marrying you has thought about it plenty of times and voiced his ideas for the wedding, resulting in teasing from the members

eats ingredients out of your food that he knows you don't enjoy so you won't have to pick the pieces out !!

likes being called honey

need him to be my boyfriend immediately

mywons © 2023 ## please do not plagiarize my works.

[pastanest]

A/N: unbelievably, this is the first actual piece of Doctor Who writing not counting the dogshit on my wattpad account we’ll all pretend that doesnt exist fr so please be nice x

Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve x gender neutral!reader

The Doctor x Short!Reader

- is cheeky about it but not outright mean, unless he’s in one of his God-humans-are-the-fucking-worst moods

“Honestly, it’s like you idiots are TRYING to wipe your own planet out of existence, and you, well, you can't even reach the top of your own cupboards! What use are any of you?!”

- you’re literally on his side and think the human race sucks but ok go off, way to throw us all under the bus lol

- he’ll apologize afterwards if you’re clearly upset or if he thinks he went too far

- most of the time it’s very lighthearted jabs at your height

- always waits a few seconds before helping you reach something because he thinks it’s funny and also very sweet but he won't dare admit that

- as much as he convinces himself and everyone he encounters that your height is solely something he finds hilarious on occasion, he can't help feeling a little more protective of you, like your smaller form makes you more likely to break

- very much still recovering from the Time War, he’s prone to overthinking disaster scenarios, especially when it comes to you

“Stay behind me. These creatures can't be trusted at the best of times.”

- but you always find a way to spin it into something more lighthearted, to ease his mind

“I’m a smaller target than you, so I like my chances! Perhaps it’s you that should stay behind me?”

- won't make fun unless he knows for a fact you’re comfortable with it

- as soon as he finds out you are, he makes jokes only in a very lighthearted way

- also comes up with cute nicknames to use when you’ve done something that’s impressed him, like saved a civilization or two while he was busy being broody and hot or something

“Oh, you little star!”

- generally speaking, he doesnt really care about your height, but he does find it endearing

- he’ll never see it as a point of weakness

- if he ever finds you struggling to reach something or down in the dumps about clothes not fitting you right because of your smaller proportions, he’s always right there to lift your chin back up and remind you of the wonderful person you are, that your stature holds no sway over how brilliant you are, especially not to him

“Some of the most mighty species in all the galaxies are the smallest ones you’ll find, some don't even have physical bodies big enough to detect with the human eye! Each and every one is perfectly unique in their own way, and you are no different. The stars you’ve seen in the night skies all your life, are they any less magical for appearing so small?”

“No…”

“Exactly! And, you know, the more humans I meet, the more I realize how similar you are to Time Lords.”

“In what way?”

- and then he’s grinning down at you, all giddy about getting to use the line he loves hearing more than any other

“You’re all so much bigger on the inside.”

- will make a joke about your height to test the water

- if your reaction tells him you’re not okay with it, he’ll feel guilty for the rest of eternity and never do it again

- but if you laugh with him or roll your eyes with a smile, he’ll grin like he’s accomplished something great, cracked some impossible code, and he will wear that like a badge of honor

- regardless of the fact you’ve made it clear he is allowed to make fun of your height, if anyone else does it in front of him, he doesn't like it

“Well, surely the smallest one should be sent in first, their loss would be the least noticeable!”

- and the Doctor is straight up, clapping his hands together and pointing in all directions as he lays out the plan of action very clearly to all involved, ending it by pointing at the man who dared make fun of you

“Now, you. From what I gather, jokes are supposed to be funny- supposed to land laughs with the nearest crowd; clearly you missed that memo, but that’s fine. Depending on (Y/N)’s reaction to your poor excuse for a joke, I’ve got a snowglobe with a blackhole suspended within it that I think you’d fit just perfectly in. (Y/N)?”

- the man looks terrified, and you try your best to refrain from laughing at him as you raise an eyebrow in dramatic silence

“Jury’s still out, see if he survives this first.”

the Doctor claps his hands again. “Cool! I’m never saying that again, but it would be very uncool of me to have to trap you inside a snowglobe that would tear you atom from atom in a continuous, brutal cycle, so consider that a warning.”

- takes the ABSOLUTE piss, don't ever think he won't

- will 110% pretend he can't see you and stare right over your head

- will 1000% make up short-based nicknames all the time

“Hello there, Short Round.”

“Really showing your age with that one.”

“Oh, what was that? A tiny and insignificant mouse, or perhaps it was the wind, arguing with me?”

- you’d think in all his whimsical, magical, time-travelling glory with his constant bustling about and his mind going a mile a minute in the most erratic fashion possible, he wouldn't notice your height, let alone find the time to make a joke in literally any setting, but oh boy, does he

“Is everyone clear on their roles in my carefully laid out plan, because I know that the accent can be difficult, but if I have to explain it again I think I’d rather do everything myself and you can all sit here with (Y/N) and applaud me when I get back.”

“Wait, sit here with me? Why aren't I coming with you?!”

“Because you’re-”

- he gestures to you with his hands, up and down, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, and you’re sighing because you already know what he’s referring to

“What does my height have to do with anything?!”

“You’re all compact, like a foldable deckchair or one of those raincoats that turns into a conveniently sized pouch. It’s frankly distracting and my pockets are full so you cant sit in any of them.”

- he never laughs at his own jokes but sometimes he makes you WHEEZE with the inventive short jokes he comes up with

- similarly to Nine, though, he also can't help viewing you as more breakable, not only because you’re a human, but a very short one, too

- despite him completely understanding the biology of humans, he is convinced that a papercut on you is the same as an average-sized person getting stabbed

- so yes, he takes the piss at absolutely every chance he gets, but if he sees someone else trip you up by accident or hand you a piece of paper and it cuts your finger in the most barely noticeable way, he will be a GRUMP

- consider the paper in your hands stolen, read very passive aggressively, then scrunched up into a ball, possibly chewed or ripped apart or even thrown on the floor and stamped on

- consider the person who accidentally hurt you the subject of his rage until they are out of his sight. every time they speak, they’re met with a “Shut it!”

- and you’re like “Doctor, there’s really no need-”

“That IMBECILE tripped you up approximately 3 AND A HALF HOURS AGO, and you think I’m overreacting? You could have DIED!”

- such a drama queen

[talesofesther]

don't know how to be something you miss

Wednesday Addams x Reader

Summary: On a rainy day, Wednesday recalls pieces of your story together through memories, and wonders if you miss her too.

Requested by anon

A/N: Soft!Wednesday because that's my thing now. This request was really fun to make, hope you like it, let me know. All flashbacks are in italics.

Masterlist

There's something unusual on Wednesday's side of the dorm.

It's small, insignificant, private because there's no one else here to witness it.

Her typewriter still sits by the end of her dark-colored bed, her cello is still stashed beside her wardrobe and her window is still the opposite of Enid's; devoid of color, creating soft shadows on the wooden floor as the rain falling outside collides with it.

But there's an anomaly on the black-and-white hues of Wednesday's side.

The Addams girl sits on the floor beside her bed, her back resting against the cold wall. She hugs her knees close to her chest, making herself smaller; she's wearing a lilac hoodie, one hand gripping its fabric as she holds herself together and the other clutching a polaroid picture, the hood is over her head and she can smell a familiar perfume.

The color is strange on her pale skin, on the black of her hair. Yet she buries herself in it.

It's pathetic. She's broken all her rules and promises.

Wednesday remembers the first time she saw the hoodie she wears;

—

It was potions and elixirs class, one that Wednesday enjoys most of the time; handling deadly substances was always amusing — the classroom didn't lack glass vials that were labeled 'toxic, do not ingest' and she was dying to try them out in her mixing table.

The teacher was about to start talking when a knock sounded on the door. Wednesday glared at it with disdain.

It opened to reveal you standing on the other side, a lilac hoodie draped over your uniform, a lollipop hanging from your lips, and a smile on your face that looked more like a grimace as you apologized for getting lost and arriving late. It was dismissed since it was your first day, and you were left to pick a seat.

Wednesday put on her best stern look so you wouldn't choose the empty chair beside her.

But you did anyway.

She rolled her eyes with a sigh when you sat down, instantly turning to her with a hopeful grin.

"Hi," your voice was timid and sweet.

Wednesday chanced a glance at you and your smile instantly brightened at the attention. She noticed you had captivating eyes, the strawberry confection you had on your lips was now being twirled between your fingers.

"You better be good with potions," was Wednesday's greeting.

And the mixture you made ended up creating something acidic. It melted through the table and created a dent in the floor.

—

Wednesday scoffs at the memory, you were always a bit reckless, following your gut even if the odds were against you. She liked that about you.

There were several things she secretly liked about you.

Sometimes she believes you have the power to read between the lines, uncover things people themselves don't realize yet.

If it wasn't for that, and your incredibly annoying persistence, maybe Wednesday would never have had a story with you at all.

Her bedroom feels bigger, lonelier; the rain doesn't help, the sound of it hitting the stone walls outside gets her mind drifting.

—

You jumped on the puddles, splashing water all around you and most likely inside your shoes as well.

Wednesday was staring at you with a soft scrunch on her eyebrows, wondering what was the purpose of your actions other than inconveniently soaking the floorboards later.

She was leaning back on the wall of the bee shed, under the roof, waiting out the rain. You were doing your chores as if the sun was shining in the sky. Peculiar.

"Why won't you join me, Wednesday?" You asked as if the answer wasn't obvious, as if raindrops weren't rapidly rolling down your forehead all the way to your chin.

"Because I'm sensible," Wednesday stated, her gaze following the path of a droplet that stopped by your lips. She crossed her arms over her chest, clearing her throat.

"Where's the fun in that?" You raised a brow, "the rain washes your soul, you know."

"I like my soul dark, stained, and dry."

You clicked your tongue at her answer, stalking closer with a mischievous glint in your eyes. "I think that's just an excuse," you took hold of one of Wednesday's braids, twirling the end of it on your fingers.

Wednesday's lips hovered open at your audacity, her heart pushing against her ribs.

"Because we both know I'm much better at harvesting these hives."

That shook Wednesday out of her trance. She scoffed, "I can do it twice as faster with my eyes closed."

You shrugged, "I'll believe it when I see it."

"You have. And I've been here longer than you."

"Hm, these three jars of honey here say otherwise."

Wednesday clenched her jaw, it was a cheap attempt at getting her to indulge you, and she hated that it was working. She hated that the prospect of competing with you brought a thrill of excitement to her stomach.

When you stepped away, she followed, allowing the rain to pour down on her and soak her clothes and hair.

She did win in the end, and even if you lost you were still smiling widely as you two walked back to the school, feeling the smell of fresh rain hitting the tree leaves.

Mud was dragged on the floorboards of Nevermore when you got back inside and the water dripping from your clothes stained the rugs. Weems got red with anger and went on a tangent about manners.

Wednesday had to agree with you in the end. It was fun.

—

The rain picks up outside, the drops that hit her window are loud and the air is frigid — the wooden floor not doing much to chase it away.

If you were here you'd be scolding her, telling her to get on the warm, comfy bed. You'd take her hands on yours and complain about the coldness of them.

You'd place a kiss on each of Wednesday's knuckles if she let you. And she would; in the end, she knew she would.

But you're not here to do any of that.

A trembling breath passes through Wednesday's lips, creating a small puff of white air.

She thinks she deserves to feel the cold seeping onto her skin.

—

Night had long since settled in, Enid was having a sleepover at Yoko's dorm and Wednesday had the room to herself. The sounds of her typewriter were the only thing filling the air. Peaceful.

Another page was filled, she took it out with care before placing a new one in its place.

"When will you let me read it?"

Oh yeah. You're here too. Being alone feels nicer when Wednesday can feel your presence nearby.

"I doubt you'd be able to stomach it," she responded, curiosity hinting at her tone wondering if you really would read her novel or if you were just making conversation.

You're sprawled out on Wednesday's bed, laying on your stomach as you picked on a few loose strands of her dark blanket. "You underestimate me, Wednesday. The macabre has always fascinated me."

It's strange how comfortable you were in her presence, how you never once hesitated to see her darker side. Wednesday sometimes doesn't know what to make of it. There are no conditions to your apparent affection, you seemed happy to just exist beside her.

Wednesday looked at you, at the way you were swinging your feet in the air, laying your head on your forearm as you raised a brow at her; daringly.

Maybe there was a reason why she started calling upon you every time Enid left. She liked to exist in your presence too.

It was another hour before Wednesday finally stopped writing, and when she did — getting up from her chair and stretching her muscles — she noticed that you had fallen asleep. You lay in an awkward position that would surely give you neck pain later, your hand falling off the edge of the bed as you snored softly.

Wednesday didn't know what to do about you. She had a foreign feeling in her stomach upon seeing you so comfortable on her bed, her space.

The thought of waking you up didn't even cross her mind.

But you had been stupid enough to sleep on top of the covers. And it was winter.

On the guise of not wanting to hear you whinnying about being sick later, Wednesday rummaged through her wardrobe and picked up one of her oversized hoodies. She awkwardly placed it over your still body… and waited.

Eventually making herself comfortable sitting on the floor, she waited for you to wake up, intently observing your sleeping figure. Wednesday memorized your breathing pattern, eventually matching her own with yours, and when it halted for a second, she wondered what nightmares you must be having. She noticed each involuntary muscle twitch on your face, finding herself mesmerized by the way your eyebrows would furrow the slightest bit sometimes.

Was it creepy that she enjoyed watching you? Was it bad that she didn't want to look away?

Wednesday reached out with her heart in her mouth, clogging up her breathing. Her fingertips touched yours, her skin brushing against yours until she was somewhat holding your hand.

Why? She didn't know. But there was no one here for her to have the need to explain herself.

Until you returned her grip, and Wednesday's heartbeat stilled.

"Get your ass off the floor Wednesday, you'll freeze."

—

You had a warmth to you that was captivating. And Wednesday fell right into your trap.

She pays the price now. She never knew what it was like to miss someone until she wanted to rip her heart out. But it doesn't feel good.

Wednesday bites into her lip until she tastes blood. She wonders if you think about it too, about her.

A sharp breath enters her lungs and stays there. She wonders if she is someone worth missing.

You left, so, probably not.

Wednesday stretches her legs, leaning her head back on the wall. She could kill you for cursing her with this. But to what avail? The last living part of her would die with you anyway.

Her thumb brushes over the image of you and her on her hands, the polaroid picture is a little worn out from being kept under her pillow. It's her most valued secret.

You're smiling in the image, beside you, Wednesday has no expression as she looks at the camera; you're illuminated by countless fireworks exploding in the sky; far down, the town fair can be seen; both your hands are out of the picture but anyone could tell they were tangled together.

Wednesday Addams succumbing to something as frivolous as love?

You made it seem as simple as the raindrops that hit her window.

—

You were bouncing on your feet, hair up in a ponytail and lilac hoodie wrapped around your waist. Your eyes couldn't find a place to focus before your attention was already being grabbed by a new attraction at the town fair.

Wednesday followed a step behind you, colorful lights coming from the many amusement rides illuminated her skin.

"Come on, Wednesday," you fell back into step beside her, linking your arm around hers and pulling her along, "you can win me a teddy bear, it gives you an excuse to shoot something."

And she did, she won you the biggest teddy bear on the balloon shooting stand. And if she had a tiny smile on her lips as she proudly handed it to you, no one needed to know.

In exchange, you went into the haunted house with Wednesday.

"Stop squirming, this is hardly scary for a child, let alone for you," Wednesday grumbled as you walked the dark hallways of the old haunted manor, your hand clutching at her arm for dear life.

"We're walking through poorly lit hallways that are designed to scare us. I know something will happen yet I don't know when," you pointed out in a hush, your hand sneaking lower on Wednesday's arm, "of course I'm gonna be at least a little creeped out."

Not even a second later, a man poorly dressed as a zombie jumped from behind a wall. You squealed and Wednesday felt a sudden rush of protectiveness coming over her. She finally took your hand in hers.

Your fingers were snuggly intertwined with each other by the time you went into the Ferris Wheel to watch the firework show.

With little room in the cabin for you to sit, Wednesday's shoulder was flush with yours. Her hand still held onto yours. The warmth of your skin became addicting.

Way down, the town fair looked like a distant reality — for a fleeting moment it was just you, her, and the stars until fireworks started painting the sky a million colors.

And you were probably thinking the same, because you opened your purse and pulled out your instant camera, not giving Wednesday much of a warning before you snapped the picture.

"I always want to remember this day," you told her, your cheeks molding around your smile and your eyes crinkling because of it. There was a soft drizzle in the air, landing on your hair and clothes and making them shine.

Wednesday watched the firework show through your eyes, through the way it reflected on your pupils and made you glow. It was magical. You were magical in a way she's never seen before.

It was only natural for her to lean in, one hand coming up to hold your jaw so she could capture your lips with hers.

—

A drop of water lands on the edge of the polaroid picture, and then another, and one more on the sleeve of your hoodie, turning it a darker shade of lilac.

Wednesday frowns, until she realizes that she can't breathe, and that the droplets are coming from her eyes. She wipes her cheeks harshly, unkindly, almost bruising herself.

But she's careful with the way she dries them off the picture, gently brushing away the tears that almost landed on top of your smiling figure.

She wonders if you still want to remember that day the same way she does.

You are her best memory. And she wonders if you still want to remember her at all.

—

It was raining, had been for a week straight already, but today there was thunder roaring in the sky and lightning illuminating the night.

Wednesday hadn't seen you the entire day. No one had.

You were gone.

And she was losing her mind.

"What do you mean she's not in the school?" She snapped at Thing. The disembodied hand cowered at her tone. "Look again," she commanded, yet the way her words cracked at the end let the facade slip.

She was pacing back and forth on the entry hall of Nevermore, the tall wooden doors were pushed open so she had a clear view of the gates. Waiting — wishing — to see you walk through. All she saw was the rain hitting the ground and making the horizon hazy and white.

Damn you for making her care. Damn you for taking her heart. Damn you for making her realize how dreadful life is without you.

Weems walked back into the room, her heels clicking against the wooden floor.

Wednesday hastily walked up to the principal, "so?"

"No teachers know of her whereabouts either." Weems sighed.

Wednesday clenched her jaw, feeling her stomach drop, "I'm going out."

Weems' features softened, yet she shook her head, "I cannot allow you to leave in these weather conditions, Miss Addams."

"Me?" Wednesday scoffed indignantly, "what about her?"

"We don't know-"

"Exactly, we don't," she interrupted Weems, urgency filling her words because the reality that you could be taken from her just like that, was too palpable, and Wednesday doesn't like to feel a pain she can't control; "for all we know we could find her dead body in the woods and-"

"What happened?"

Both Weems and Wednesday snapped their heads towards your voice, relief evident on both their faces when they saw you unharmed.

You were soaked to the bone from walking in the pouring rain, drenching the rug beneath your feet as your hair and clothes clung to your body.

Weems gave you a glare that let you know you had to explain yourself later, but she left the room right after, knowing you and Wednesday deserved some privacy.

Wednesday's hands were closed into fists beside her, nails almost digging on skin as she watched you walk up to her with a soft frown on your eyebrows; as if you were unaware of the mess your absence had caused on her, as if you didn't know her vision was blurring over because for a second she thought all she'd have of you were memories.

Wednesday was enraged, her lungs being unable to hold air properly and turning her breathing erratic, "are you stupid?" She threw at you, making you flinch.

"What the hell were you thinking?" She continued, taking a step closer to grasp at that damn hoodie you insisted on wearing all the time, "don't dare do it again you hear me? I forbid you." She emphasized each word with a shake to your body.

Your answer was to wrap your arms around her, and she fought you, tried to push you away, but your hold was stronger. You held Wednesday's body to you until she collapsed, her weight mostly supported by you as her tears mingled with the raindrops still on your skin and the wetness of your clothes seeped into hers too.

Her nails dug into the fabric of your hoodie and she buried her head in your neck; breathing you in, feeling your heartbeat against her own.

"I'm sorry. I'm okay," you mumbled countless times like a mantra, your lips brushing the shell of Wednesday's ear.

It felt like a promise that you later sealed with a soft kiss on her lips. It was a little cold and wet, but you were there.

—

If Wednesday knew that would be your last kiss, she'd have held on to you a little longer.

Maybe that's why she feels so miserable today, because of the rain.

It's easier to put the blame on something she can't control, something she can't regret.

Part of Wednesday wants to be selfish and only keep the good memories, not the bad ones, but sometimes your words still echo in her mind;

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I just went into town to pick something up, for you, actually. The rain picked back up on my way back… I didn't mean to make you so worried."

And her own words still plague her too;

"It was reckless, it's like you enjoy being an inconvenience sometimes, I was perfectly fine not needing anyone in my life until you showed up."

That conversation ended with you storming out of Wednesday's room, your hoodie staying behind on top of her bed. It was two weeks ago, and she never got to know what it was you wanted to give her.

You haven't exchanged a word with each other since.

Begrudgingly, Wednesday gets up from her spot on the floor. The sleeves of your hoodie pool on her wrists. Your perfume is weaker, fading with each passing day.

What happens when she can't remember what you smell like anymore? When she can't fool herself that your arms are the ones around her and not the lilac fabric?

Wednesday lifts her pillow, placing your picture under it before putting it down again.

Maybe the time to let go is nearing. But it's a hard task when she has glimpses of you every day, in every class, in every corner of the school.

She takes off your hoodie and puts it back in her wardrobe, there's a place reserved for it there. Sometimes she wonders if you'll ever come back to get it.

Wednesday goes to her bathroom and throws water on her face, she doesn't need people looking at her funny because of her red-rimmed eyes.

There's a bit of hesitance on her steps down the stairs. Dinner will be served soon and Wednesday knows what awaits her at the cafeteria, or better, who.

The sound of rain is all she can hear, it's dreadful, you've ruined it for her. You've ruined so many things for her.

Wednesday walks into the cafeteria and finds you almost immediately, in the sea of outcasts, you stand out. You always have, as much as she doesn't want to admit it. You're sitting by the window, lollipop on your lips as you talk with your friends.

Whatever it is that keeps you tied to her — magnetism, gravity, electricity; it must be a little bit of each — it's still there. Because you look her way, it's like you can feel her presence too, your lips halting in their movement when your eyes find hers. But you're shaking your head and averting your gaze from the doors she stands in front of the second after.

Sometimes Wednesday thinks you look at her with the same feelings you forced on her when you left; with longing, with sadness, with something bittersweet.

Wednesday wonders if you'd be willing to give her a second chance. She wonders if you think about her at night too.

She wonders, but she never asks. She doesn't know that all she had to do was ask.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Read ch 2 here

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I'd appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Wednesday’s taglist: @milkiane @bookfrog242 @heelaechan @imagine-reblog @simp4wanda26 @sakurarukas @bluetreecloud20 @the-night-owl-blr @imlike-so-gaydude @user284747 @dreifhraniquo29 @emeraldevan @simp4nat @boobabietch @impossibleliv1031 @deadpool-in-a-snood @rainbow-love4ever @maria-403 @pompompuri @halleest @wandaromanova @marveloussimp @rainbow-hedgehog @left-and-right-up-and-down @get-the-fuck-outta-here @awolfcsworld @elduster @alexkolax @georgi-salva @imdumbhi @youralphawolf72 @reginassweetheart @justyourwritter69 @yangsroboarmm @8e-h-e8 @irish-piece-of-trash @femalehomosexual666 @wol-fica

[jjngkook7]

Motives (1)

NCT Jaehyun X Reader / Demon AU / Angst, Fluff (?), Suggestive Smut

Summary: You didn’t know how good you had it until your new job suddenly takes you far away from home. Desperate to settle into your new life, you turn to an eccentric medium who introduces you to an entity named Jaehyun. He offers you three wishes, but do you dare make a deal with the devil? ***Please ignore the mantra later. I literally copied and pasted their Favourite lyric sorry if its CRINGE****

“Goodnight! Love you!” you force the biggest smile you can as you wave to your best friend over facetime.

“Goodnight!” Karina blows you a kiss and the call ends.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you drop your head onto your pillow. Your phone lays still on your stomach and you’re tempted to just throw it across your room until it shatters into a million pieces. Seeing your loved ones posting little life updates on social media used to warm your heart but is now the reason you cry yourself to sleep. Facetime calls with your friends went from every other day to every other week because there was really nothing to update them on besides work and how much you missed them. Besides, you didn’t want to burden your friends with the knowledge of how truly alone you felt. You took a peek at the time and let out another sigh when you realized that if you wanted to get through the day tomorrow, you had to sleep now.

As a creature of habit, the prospect of relocating to a new city for work was almost off the table. You’d be a plane ride away from everything and everyone once knew. Your new employer gave you a week to decide and for the whole week, you contemplated long and hard. Your family and friends were completely supportive of your move for good reason: you get to explore a new place, expand your view on the world and make new connections. Alongside the possibility of growing as an individual, the job also promised a pay raise and a better role. All these great reasons eventually led you to make the move. After two months, your bank account was a little bigger, your role in the company was a little better and your mental health was a little worse. The city you moved to was the complete opposite of where you came from. First, this place was significantly smaller than the bustling city you grew up in and seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. Second, a fun time was going to the only plaza in the middle of town to buy knick knacks for your home. Finally, it was quiet and actually quite peaceful. The citizens here really cared about preserving the environment as much as possible, so highways were few to none and many people chose to walk or bike. You appreciated how much closer the mountains looked and how much cleaner the air smelled but there was no one to appreciate the serenity with. For a creature of habit, you were kind of pleased with the limited amount of restaurants and shops to choose from but once again, it was hard to appreciate these things without someone to share it with. Your growing loneliness made this small city seem so much larger than it was.

“Tomorrow will be a better day,” a mantra you whispered every night before bed in hopes to manifest for the next day.

__________________________________

A shiver ran down your spine as a cold breeze blew past. You hugged your scarf closer to your face and quickened your pace in order to get home faster. Autumn settled a little too quickly for your liking. The weather was constantly gloomy and with your city being so close to the mountains, it was already below freezing. In the past few weeks, you worked really hard to remain grateful and positive to get through the day. You put in a lot of effort to make your place feel like home and you tried to foster some sort of relationship with your coworkers. Your coworkers were a lot older than you but hearing them talk about their family and weekend activities was somewhat comforting to hear about during lunch breaks. However, with the days getting shorter and the weather getting worse, you worried that you would slip back into old habits.

As you kept your head down to bury as much of your face in the warmth of your scarf, you noticed a weird tune playing a couple feet in front of you. Curious about the source, you first noticed neon pink lights dancing on the sidewalk as you lifted your head. Your eyes went towards a store front you never saw before despite walking down the same sidewalk to get home for almost three months. A flashing pink palm with the words “PSYCHIC” in the middle decorates the mysterious storefront. You inspected the shop a little more and noticed that it was only twenty dollars to get a full reading. You scoffed, figuring that this store was a scam just like every other pseudoscience out there and averted your gaze. As you continued down the block, you thought about what you were going to do this weekend and felt an all too familiar ache in your heart. There was no one to see, no where you wanted to go and nothing you really wanted to do. Your pace slowed down as you thought about your sad weekend plans. Your cold hands formed into fists in your jacket pocket as you tried to push the intrusive thoughts about how pathetic and lonely you were. I worked way too hard to keep feeling like shit. You felt your body go backwards until you were in front of the psychic store again. Maybe they can tell me what to do this weekend.

You almost gasped at how much colder the store was inside compared to outside which was odd considering how cozy it was decorated. The lights were dim creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere. A large, fuzzy white rug sat in the middle of the store with two green sofas on top. On the side was a large wooden bookshelf with various texts, trinkets and a diffuser spraying out what seemed to be an essential oil of some sort. You peered around the store and noticed that you were the only person inside. As you looked around more, you noticed a closed door in the back leading to what you assumed was the staff room. Continuing your guessing games, you wondered if the staff couldn’t hear you come in. You walked over to the wooden bookshelf and skimmed through the spines. There were lots of titles you expected in a store such as this like, “Speaking With the Other World” and “Supernatural Beings”. What caught your eye was a large crystal ball with what looked like clouds trapped in the sphere. It seemed like the closer you looked inside, the bigger the clouds got. You reached out your hand to hold the ball but quickly retreated when you suddenly felt the hairs on your body stand. You turned around, swearing you felt someone behind you but found no one else in the store. Wanting to suddenly leave, you turned on your heels and headed towards the front door.

“I’m sorry, were you waiting long?” a voice asked from behind.

You thought your soul had escaped from your body from how hard you jumped. You quickly turned to face whoever spoke.

“Did I scare you? I’m so sorry!”

You couldn’t help the racing of your heart as you scanned around the room. Where could this person have come from? You looked towards the back door and noticed that it was still closed. Were you too engrossed in that stupid crystal ball to hear them open and close the door? Your eyes went back towards the man standing in front of you. He looked almost as worried as you with his brows furrowed and his hands placed in front of him. His bangs were long, almost covering his eyes and he had little beauty marks scattered around his face.

“I just-I didn’t hear you,” you stammered, embarrassed by your reaction, “sorry I just-I thought-“

“I think we both need to calm down,” he laughed and reached out his hands towards you, “I’m Haechan! I will be the one to do your reading if you’re interested.”

You shook his hand and felt a jolt run through your arm, he was ice cold.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you smiled back, “I was just curious because I walk by here everyday and have never seen your store before.”

“Ah,” Haechan nodded, “we kind of just opened like yesterday. Before I took over, this store was literally just a grey building which is probably why you’ve never noticed until now. Please sit!” he gestured towards the sofas.

You hesitated but eventually gave in to the thought of how this might turn out to be a funny story to tell your friends over facetime later. Haechan waited for you to get comfortable before taking a seat across from you.

“So what brings you in today?” he asked.

You scratched your head in thought. You battled the desire to vomit up your sob story to this stranger because it would feel so good to just talk to someone and be honest without feeling like a burden. Your friends knew you were having a hard time settling into your new life but they didn’t know the extent of how miserable you were and there was no way in hell you were going to open up to your coworkers. Another thought hit you, if this guy really was a psychic, shouldn’t he know why you’re here?

“I honestly was just curious.” you finally answered.

Haechan hummed in thought and leaned towards you. You felt your face get warm by how intensely he was staring at you. Is this part of the reading…?

“You haven’t been doing well huh? I’m picking up something to do with transition, dissatisfaction and loneliness.” he suddenly says after what seemed like forever.

You felt your heart begin to race again. You knew that psychics do cold readings and their predictions are usually very general but what are the chances of him describing your situation to a T in three words.

“Uh…kind of.” an uncomfortable laugh escapes from you.

Haechan shoots you a sympathetic smile and you swear the room suddenly gets colder.

“Change is hard but adapting to change is harder. You must remember your strengths during these times. Just looking at you, I can tell you’re more than capable of fighting through this.” Haechan says.

You smile and feel a sense of victory. He was right, you are strong and capable! It felt good to get some validation even if it was coming from a conman.

“I can’t fix your problems for you but I can offer some ways you can practice mindfulness in order to heal your energy. On a scale of 1-10, how accepting are you of help?” he asked.

“I’m pretty open minded.” you lied.

Whatever this guy was going to tell you to do, you were absolutely not going to do. You figured that for an extra $50 he was going to perform some stupid energy healing for you where you guys sit in silence for a few minutes while he closes his eyes and pretends to speak to your "spirit guides".

“Repeat this mantra three times after the clock strikes midnight and you’ll find your greatest desire fulfilled.” Haechan says instead.

He hands you a little piece of paper, which you swore he produced from thin air. You take the paper from his hands and read what’s on it. Thorns, crown, poison. Let my world shatter as I swallow it all. You gasped as your eyes looked up from the paper and you see Haechan standing in front of you. The room becomes unbearably cold as he looms over you. You then notice that he’s wearing jeans and a simple cotton t-shirt.

“I keep scaring you tonight, I’m so sorry!” he apologized.

“It’s alright! You just move so quietly!” you laughed as you wave his apology away.

You and Haechan exchange a few more words before you decide to call it a night. He fights you as you try to pay him $20 for his scam. He argued that since you’re his first customer, he wants to give you the session for free.

“If the mantra works within the week, then come back and I will take your $20.” Haechan suggests.

“Sounds good!” you agree, “I hope it does then!”

”It will.” Haechan chuckles, but the laugh doesn't reach his eyes.

You wave one final goodbye to Haechan as he closes the door. The cold autumn air seems to warm up your freezing body. How the fuck is he just in a t-shirt. Maybe my $20 will go towards a heater for his store. As you walked home, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. You tried something new for the first time since you moved here and you couldn’t wait to tell your friends about it!

You stretched your legs as far as you could as you plopped down on your bed. After a long hot shower and a face mask, you were ready to get comfy and watch tv all night. You rolled over to your nightstand to grab your remote when your attention lands on the paper Haechan gave you earlier. You sit up and grab the paper. For a mantra that was supposed to be uplifting, it was kind of dark. You laughed to yourself at the thought of Haechan typing this out on his computer and printing it out to give to potential clients. You came this far with this ridiculous scam, you might as well just finish-and it was free! You checked the time on your phone. 12:01 am. Three times right? You closed your eyes and whispered the mantra to yourself secretly hoping that things would look up from here.

________________________________

”Going somewhere, Jae?”

Jaehyun yawned as a portal appeared beneath his feet.

“I’m heading to work,” he replied while stretching his arms, “thanks for the new customer, Haechan.”

Haechan gave Jaehyun a thumbs up as he watched the portal glow brighter until Jaehyun began to disappear into the other world. As Jaehyun prepared himself for his entrance, he wondered what his new client would be like and how long it would take before they destroyed themselves. Haechan bet a week and Jaehyun bet a month, winner got to keep the customer’s soul.

[rea-grimm]

Merfolk Buggy

You lived in a small house on the beach. Part of the house stood on wooden stilts above the water. You also had a small terrace where you could sit and dip your feet. You lived there alone and the nearest town was half an hour away.

You were sitting on the terrace, your feet were in the water and you were reading a new book that interested you. You finished reading the page when you noticed movement in the water. You put your book down and noticed that the water was swarming with sharks. This was unusual as they were rare in this area.

You took your feet out of the water and stood up to get a better view. You had the impression that the sharks were hunting something. Something small and fast that kept evading them. This thing had red stripes on it and it was heading towards your house.

Or rather under your house and the sharks chased him there. You headed inside to the room where you had the trapdoor where you had access to the water.

You saw a strange creature hiding behind a pillar while sharks swam around it, hungry for it. For a brief moment, the poor creature looked at you, and you knew you wanted to help it.

You ran to get the broom and came back just in time. You used the stick to bang the nearest shark that wanted to have the creature for lunch. The shark shook itself and headed away. 

You took out a few more sharks like this before ducking over the hatch. You searched the void for a moment before grabbing the strange creature and pulling it out.

“That was close,” the creature said breathlessly in a male voice, flopping onto the wooden floor. You've moved away from that. You didn't expect it to speak.

Now that you got a closer look, it reminded you of merfolks. Some strange subspecies. You've seen merfolk before, but none were this small. Even the children looked different. You had the impression that his head was bigger than his body.

"Why are you so small?" you asked. The merfolk had a turquoise tail and red stripes all over its body. In addition, he had long blue hair tied in a ponytail.

However, this question of yours really pissed him off, and he looked exhausted just a second ago, but now he was bubbling with energy. He was the first to scold you, how dare you ask such questions. He then told you what happened to him and how he ended up.

You didn't know what to make of his words, as some parts sounded like something from a fairy tale, but you kept that to yourself. He also properly told you about his unique ability that allowed him to split his body into smaller pieces. It made him look the way he did now.

Despite his story, it didn't make much sense to you. It was absurd, but surely there had to be some truth to it. You just shrugged it off though. Merfolk then introduced himself to you as Buggy, The most flashy merman.

“I'd rather say you're the smallest merman I've ever seen,” you said. This angered him again. If he had a normal body, he would show you what he was capable of. You wouldn't make fun of him.

You found him rather cute and funny when he got upset. Like a small child who gets upset when a parent doesn't want to buy him candy. You smiled at the thought but ultimately kept it to yourself.

You let Buggy live with you. It was clear to you that such a small creature would be easy food for sharks. Moreover, these predators have been staying near your house ever since. You took care of him, brought him food and everything.

Despite everything, Buggy kept talking big about freedom. According to him, he was a fearless merfolk who would conquer the entire wide ocean and therefore shouldn't be sitting here in one place.

He kept saying these things and it was slowly starting to annoy you. The last time he talked about it, you pointed to the trapdoor and the water fence gate you had installed for him and told him he could leave at any time.

It wasn't like you were holding him there by force. You just felt sorry for him and it was nice to have such an energetic and funny visitor at home.

As soon as Buggy saw this, he immediately changed his mind. He started muttering about changing his mind. That he actually wanted to stay with you and was glad you saved him. The poor guy almost had tears in his eyes.

You just smiled weakly at that. If you laughed out loud at that, it was quite possible that he would start the triad again about how he was feared and such.

Buggy also told you stories about his adventures and the pirates he led. His stories were very colorful and you had the impression that he had improved them a little. However, they were eye-catching and you could tell he was glad he could pull it off.

You also often drank alcohol together in the evening. Only then did he tell you the most interesting and funniest stories. You had to admit that the crumb grew quite close to your heart.

Buggy couldn't say it out loud, but he was happy to be with you too. You were an excellent companion and he felt safe with you. You were his safe harbour.

Sometime later, you honestly didn't even count how long the merfolk had been with you, Buggy suddenly stood up. As if he was looking for something. He was full of energy and burning with anticipation.

When you asked him what was going on, he told you that he could feel his body. The parts he lost. He felt the hands, the fins, just everything. He couldn't even explain to you how amazing it felt.

Once he was sure his body was close enough, he jumped into the water and swam towards him. Underwater, he regained the rest of his body and regained his full strength and height.

Of course, he had to show you in his full glory. As he swam back to you, you already went out to the terrace where you had a better view.

Even from a distance, you could see something bigger and more colourful swimming towards you. Buggy swung out onto the patio and wanted to show you what he really looked like. He was fishing for compliments.

You were in awe. He told you about it all the time, so you shouldn't be that surprised, but seeing it with your own eyes was something else entirely. He could even show you how his powers worked that way.

You admired him because he looked so different. He wasn't so cute anymore, but now you saw something else in him that drew you to him. You flattered to him and even though his cheeks were flush, he liked your attention.

As a thank you, Buggy planned to put on an underwater show. Besides, when his loyal crew of merfolk had come so far just to find him, they had to celebrate properly.

It was originally supposed to be an underwater performance, but after you had to remind him that you couldn't breathe underwater, he changed his plans ever so slightly. Instead, the performance was moved above the surface.

It was a unique performance that you have ever seen in your life. Buggy was of course the main star and as the principal he made sure that everything went smoothly.

After the performance, the celebrations continued long into the night. However, a little after midnight, tiredness overcame you and you fell asleep. Even the clown didn't miss this and he disappeared from his own party so he could be closer to you, even if you were only sleeping.

Buggy was glad to have his crew back, but he hated how everyone was hanging around you. He was glad they accepted you, but you belonged only to him. Besides, he had much less time alone with you now.

The only times he could be alone with you and enjoy your presence was when he used your secret trapdoor that you originally saved him with. His crew didn't know about it, so they couldn't disturb you. However, it wasn’t the same.

After some time it was time for his crew to move again. If they wanted to conquer the ocean, they had to go further.

Buggy bragged that when he returned, he would be the new king of the Merfolk pirates. He had big words about how the ocean was calling him and how he had to get revenge on Luffy who disabled him.

Despite all that, you could see in him how unwilling he was to leave. You sat next to him and wanted to encourage him somehow. Before he could protest, you cupped his cheeks and kissed him. It was your first kiss and you completely silenced him with it.

"What?!" he squealed as you pulled away. You saw his cheeks turn red like his nose. “A kiss from a merman is something much more. You can't just take that!” he protested. "Again!" he finally added more weakly. You just smiled at that before kissing him again.

When you said goodbye, Buggy and his crew swam away from your house. You already missed him.

Whenever Buggy had the chance, he came back to you for comfort and cuddles. After all, you were his safe harbour where he could calm down and where you showered him with love. 

He always brought you something new and told you about his adventures and how much he missed you. But he couldn't say that out loud in front of the crew.

[thefaiao]

What are your inspirations for drawing? Like other artists or things

I'll start with my biggest inspiration, which got me into art as a whole: Adam Adamowicz. I got introduced to him through Skyrim concept art, but I honestly think his Shivering Isles concepts are some of the best concept art out there. You can see how much he just takes an idea and completely sores with it. A torrential stream of beautiful sketchy goodness.

I love Oblivion's flat ass dough faces and early Xbox 360 charm, but this shit is simply crazy. Look at this, it makes you wish to dedicate your life to bringing this to life, as all good concept art should. It inspires more of itself.

I could post all the images there are out there, because I sincerely think this is the type of work that has stuck with me the most. It's something to strive for. You can see it for yourself instead. That was what got me started. After that, and through my journey on Tumblr and Twitter, I think what stuck to me the most was the art done by small artists, my "compatriots". The things you don't see. There is so much love in little things, and maybe in another universe there are entire cultures dedicated to them. I wish we had time to explore each and every one of the smallest pieces of media, especially narrative media, weird media.

I'll concede that it's a bit of an abstract thing to be inspired by, but once you realise how much work goes into the smallest of things, I believe you'll find inspiration anywhere you go. I think the reason why my Batter drawings are the way they are is my inspiration from just the design of letters and fonts in general. I think making something that blurs the line of symbol and representation over and over is fun.

One artist that has stuck with me is the late great Gunner Leatherwood. He passed away earlier this year. I watched this guy grow from a hundred followers to thousands. I saw his art improve. I think that inspiration transcends just the visual aspect of the art. It's a story, a lived experience, as all art is, but I felt I understood it much more. I think going after and following these small artists pay off because of this. Everyone can make something truly great, and some people have and no one noticed. Many amazing animated movies have been made, but never got to the people who would understand them, who'd have dedicated themselves to easing other people into it. We like to think we understand media in a completely intuitive, isolated fashion, but it's not true at all. Our shared experience contributes to classics being recognised and loved. Sometimes you need the right person at the right time to understand. Gunner was a great artist because of how intuitive and visceral his drawings were. It was like he was drawing from his entire life experience to express himself in a page. At first he had little control of it, but with time it was molded and polished so that the madness was discernable, but not gone from the drawing. His mindset for drawing was fun, and he too was always going after small artists of all kinds.

But going back to Batter drawings and abstraction, an artist that has also inspired me over the years in that aspect of bluring symbol and representation into one solid thing, and similarly started somewhat small like Gunner, is Matt Lesniewski. His hatching is out of this world, and his character design is evocative and never boring. The characters are huge balls of symbols made into physical objects. Recently he straight-up draws the belts of characters floating. It's wonderful.

Another artist that does this bluring very well, and is very inspiring, is nailgun waowao. They really, well, nail the appeal of making images that have all the defining elements of a certain scene or character, but open closer look they are fragmented and completely abstracted. It's like a bigger image overlayed with many smaller stories and symbols.

But to go back to talking about active inspirations that came before, and got to me to where I am at the moment, it's a bit harder. I can't really make it sound smart besides going "uuh I don't know like abstract stuff, cubism idk lol." Just try to appreciate the great things your friends make, and try and work together to make something even greater.

Some of the most improvement I had in art was from learning with friends. Art ultimately is a form of communication, understanding other people and yourself will make you better at it. Technical skill is fun and speaks for itself, but your experiences will reach much deeper. In a world where we can't even begin to compreehend the powers that be, loving and understanding what is close is probably gonna make your life and art much better.

[lonelywhalien22]

trust me

pairing: bang chan x reader

rating/genre: comfort, fluff, sprinkle of angst

summary: you're having a bad day and your boyfriend chan is there to try and make you feel better.

warnings: reader is low key hella sad in this (take care of yourselves yall <3) + a steamy kiss (very self indulgent ik i'm sorry)

word count: 2.7k

song(s) to listen to while reading: steamroller by phoebe bridgers (reader is hella sad so are we surprised lol), renee's song by bazzi, fall by chloe x halle

note: while i try to tame some bigger fic ideas into submission i'll occasionally polish up + share some of my more decent smaller pieces from years past. pretty sure i wrote this one in the throws of the p*ndemic while struggling with college and feeling hella touch starved...so yeah...enjoy lol <3

————

It was one of those days - one where that funny feeling had bubbled up inside of you, seemingly out of nowhere. You knew it all too well by now, knew its signs and its symptoms. One moment you’d be fine, and then it would happen - a dreaded phone call for an appointment that you could no longer put off, a tedious task at work, a much needed item that you’d misplaced and couldn’t find - sometimes it was all of these things in one day and more, and suddenly you weren’t ok. And as much as you’d try to not let all the frustrations of life get to you, as much as you’d try to hold on to the good, to the light, sometimes bit by bit it would still slip from your grasp until you were tired of trying and there was nothing left inside of you but a dull gray.

You hated when you got in these sorts of moods - used to think there'd be some stage in life, some milestone you could reach, thing you could achieve that would make them go away forever, but you’d survived enough of them by now to know that it was a lifelong battle. There were highs and lows, and today just happened to be one of the lows.

Today also just happened to be one where your boyfriend Bang Chan was supposed to be coming over. His presence was one that so often brought light into your life - fun and laughter and a smile to every situation, but despite having accepted that you were in a sour mood, the thought of him seeing you this way made you feel worse instead of better - like a recluse undeserving of such sweet affection. As if he could hear your thoughts from afar, your cellphone began ringing on the kitchen table, temporarily snapping you right out of your self pity.

“Am I still good to stop by in an hour?" You could practically hear the excitement in his voice, imagining his charming smile immediately, but the warmth in your chest only lasted for a second before you just felt even more upset with yourself. You didn’t wanna burden him with your feelings - tramp all over his joy with your frustration.

"Hey Chan. I'm sorry, but I'm kind of feeling like trash right now." You thought maybe that would be the end of it, hoped that he would read between the lines, but he was completely oblivious, a caring tone seeping into his words as he tried to help you instead.

"Are you sick? I can pick up something for you and bring it by if you want.”

"No, that's not exactly it," you began, struggling to find the words. There was a long pause on the line, and you could hear Chan shifting, as if he was sitting up. You cursed in your head. There was no way he was gonna let this go now - not when you were being so distant. 

“Babe, you know you can tell me anything right?” His use of the nickname made your heart flutter again, gently coaxing you to open up to him - to be honest.

“I know.” 

“Then talk to me.”

“I just…I don’t know, it’s stupid.”

“Nothing you say is stupid,” Chan said immediately. “Tell me what’s going on.”

You let out a sigh before nervously continuing. “It’s just…sometimes I’ll get in this really weird headspace and it makes me feel like crap and...I'm just annoyed with myself. I'm sorry if that doesn't make any sense...I think maybe I just need to be alone right now," you tried to get the last words out but began to break down a little as you really thought about what you’d said. Something about hearing it out loud made it feel all the more real, your eyes beginning to water and throat beginning to dry up.

“It sounds like you're upset. You sure you don't want me to come over?” 

You took a big breath, trying to calm yourself before speaking again, but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t find it in you to say anything else. It felt paralyzing - being stuck between the part of you that just wanted him to be with you and the part that was afraid you’d scare him away forever with your feelings. The more you thought about it the more emotional you got, and you felt a tear run down your cheek before you started to sob silently into the phone.

"Babe? Y/n?” Chan asked, voice becoming laced with concern. 

"Yeah?" It was all you could manage to sob out.

"I'm coming over right now," he said quickly, making the decision for you. You could already hear shuffling sounds in the background as he presumably scrambled to grab his things.

"Give me like twenty minutes ok? And just stay on the line with me please? Can you do that for me?" 

"Yeah. I'm sorry." 

“There's nothing to be sorry for," Chan said softly.

————

In less than twenty minutes you heard a hurried knock on your door. Hanging up on your phone, you pulled yourself off of the couch and shuffled over to the entrance of your apartment, unlocking and pulling open the door to reveal your boyfriend's slightly panicked face.

“Hey…” he whispered gently when he saw you. You moved out of the way and he quickly stepped inside, setting down a bunch of bags before he turned back around and immediately enveloped you in his arms. The warmth of his body pressed against yours easily disarmed you, walls falling down so that all you could think about was his sturdy embrace. 

"I'm sorry,” you mumbled into his chest, trying to look at him. “I didn't mean to worry y-" 

"Hmm. Shush. No apologizing. Just let me hold you for a minute, yeah?" 

You nodded your head against him, silent as you slowly relaxed all the muscles in your body and let yourself really feel his warmth, feel all of the love radiating from his body into yours. He smelled like his shower gel, a hint of spearmint seeping into your lungs as your breathing began to slow and your eyes closed, whizzing thoughts in your head beginning to dissipate one by one. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his black sweater, holding on as if you never wanted to let go, and he let you - staying wrapped around you for an entire minute, just like he said. One of his hands stayed firmly wrapped around your waist while the other went up to start rubbing all the way from your head to the middle of your back, repeating the motion leisurely. You released a sigh of content as he did this, feeling yourself start to calm down, heart rate beginning to slow. Eventually he loosened his arms just enough to pull back a little and look at your tear-stained face.

"Let's sit down and I'll get you some food to eat hmm?" he said quietly, thumb wiping across your wet cheeks. You nodded, feeling a bit like a child as he lead you to your couch and wrapped a blanket around you before getting you some food from one of the bags he brought. When he came back you noticed his hair was a bit wet, presumably still drying from a shower he must have taken right before calling you, strands curling from the dampness. And as you looked down at the container of food he’d placed in your hands you realized it was your favorite meal from your favorite place. He even remembered how you always asked for extra sauce. 

Chan stayed silent as you slowly picked up your fork and began to eat, still sniffling a little. He easily found the remote to your tv, switching it on in a practiced familiarity, and put on one of your favorite movies, letting it play softly in the background before digging in to his own food.

When you’d both finished eating, he silently patted his lap, and you knew without any explanation that he was asking you to lean yourself back into his embrace. You did so shyly, Chan grabbing the blanket and draping it around the two of you before he wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you even closer. Finally you relaxed, leaning your head into the crook of his neck and turning slightly so that you could shamelessly wrap your arms around his middle, no longer even focusing on the tv at all. It felt so comforting to be in his arms that your eyes immediately began to close, his embrace luring you to sleep.

————

When you woke up it was dark outside. You blinked a couple times, shifting slightly before realizing that you were still completely wrapped up in Chan’s arms. To your embarrassment, you caught him peeking at you with the softest look on his face, your heart beating a little faster because you’d never been this close to him for so long before. 

“Better?” he asked you simply, thumb moving to rub against your elbow gently.

You opened your eyes a bit wider, immediately beginning to shift up on the couch.

“I’m sorry, I didn't realize how late it was," you said quickly instead of answering his question, feeling guilty as you shifted a little from his embrace. You’d essentially used him as your own personal pillow for who knows how many hours. “I didn’t mean to keep you here like that for so long,” you continued to ramble, but Chan only shook his head in response.

“Y/n. Hey - look at me,” Chan said with a soothing tone. You stopped your shuffling and did as he asked.

“Do you feel better?” he repeated his question from earlier, and you finally nodded a little before picking at the blanket on your lap.

“Yeah. I’m just sorry I wasted your time because of some dumb mood I was in," you responded, annoyed with yourself as you pushed your hair out of your face roughly.

“You know it’s not a crime to feel sad, right?” Chan started gently after a couple beats of silence, clearly trying to find the right words as his thumb continued to lightly rub against your skin. “Even if there isn’t a clear reason - that doesn’t make how you’re feeling any less real.”

“I guess.” You dismissed his words easily, clearly not taking them to heart.

"Why do you always do that?" he asked lightly.

"What do you mean?”

"Talk yourself down. Dismiss how you're feeling,” he elaborated, a little concern in his voice once again. “It makes me worry about you.” 

Your eyes widened in surprise before you looked off to the side. 

“I don’t know, I guess it’s just out of habit.”

Chan tapped your elbow, silently asking you to look at him again. 

"Can I tell you something?” he whispered into the quiet. You nodded curiously.

"I care about you - so much that it scares me sometimes,” he said earnestly, raking a hand through his hair. "You're so thoughtful, so kind, such an amazing listener - you make it so easy for me to be honest about how I'm feeling, and I've never felt more comfortable talking to anyone else,” he continued, looking down a little as he said that last part.

His words made you feel shy all over again, not expecting him to be so open with you. You willed yourself to keep looking at him.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that…I wanna make you feel safe too - safe to share how you’re feeling with me, the good and the bad. Because that’s how you make me feel.” 

“Chan…” you said, lightly smacking his arm in jest as you looked away from him, tears flooding your eyes for a different reason. But he just leaned forward and kissed your temple, pulling you back into his arms gently before continuing.

“Trust me, ok?” Chan asked as you nodded into his chest. “I want you to know that you can always share how you’re feeling with me - even if it’s sad or you don’t think it makes any sense - even if I can’t fix it for you - I’ll always at least be here to listen, I promise. Just don’t hide from me, yeah?”

Tears were falling from your eyes now - not because you were sad, but because Chan’s care for you felt so unconditional, so devoid of judgement - and you’d never known care like that from a partner before. You didn’t have any words to respond in that moment - all you knew was that you wished the two of you could stay on your couch, just like this, forever. 

"I didn't mean to make you cry again," Chan said, a little worried as he saw your expression. "Let me get you some t -”

But you leaned up and kissed him gently, cutting off his words. This wasn't your first kiss, but it was definitely the first that you had initiated. Usually you would just stare at his lips longingly or give the tiniest of hints until he finally caught on to what you wanted, but this time you couldn't hold yourself back. You just felt this boost of confidence, an unrelenting need to express a feeling that words couldn't define. 

Chan was shocked at first, but he quickly fell into it, closing his eyes and immediately wrapping his hands around your waist oh so gently as his lips began to move against yours slowly, lightly, with the utmost care. You each tilted your heads instinctively to opposite sides, still not coming up for any air as you maneuvered yourself back into his lap and brought a hand up to caress the side of his face before combing your fingers through his hair instead, a tiny noise of contentment leaving you in that moment. 

“Y/n…” he groaned softly against your smiling lips. 

"Hmmm?" you responded, still in a feeling of utter bliss. Your other hand was rubbing across his upper chest and shoulder soothingly, and you leaned in and kissed him again before he could even muster enough sense to respond, unable to stop yourself. Chan’s lips began moving against yours again, and he started to lean forward until your back was against a pillow on the couch and he was hovering over you completely. It felt as if he was trying to reach your heart with just the movements his warm, pillowy lips made against yours.

His thumbs started rubbing soothing circles into your waist and you felt like you were floating on a cloud, mind becoming hazy as your head became filled with thoughts of him and only him. He left three final pecks on your lips, finally mustering enough self control to pull back before things got even more heated. His hands slid from your waist all the way up to your cheeks, caressing them softly. 

You were smiling softly but genuinely, in complete bliss as he leaned in and kissed your forehead sweetly before finally saying, “I love you, you know?"

“I love you too,” you whispered quietly, just enough for him to hear. 

He rubbed his thumb near the corner of your lips, eyes crawling all over your face before he said a little regretfully, "I hate for this to end but I don't wanna keep you up any later than it already is."

“Then just stay over for the night. Please?" you begged a little bit and put a pout on your face. He immediately kissed it off of you and you couldn’t help but laugh a little.

"Are you sure?"

Neither of you had ever spent the night at each other's place, so it was completely new territory and you could tell he didn’t want to seem like he was taking advantage of the entire situation. You shifted up a little to kiss his forehead back.

“Chan, I want you to. I promise. Please?”

You meant every word. You wanted nothing more than to hold him all night long.

"Ok," he said quietly, grin growing on his face until you saw that cheeky smile you loved so dearly.

————

That night was one of the most peaceful you’d ever had in recent memory. Buried deep under your sheets, nestled under the stars, you curled yourself into his arms - so close that you could feel his heartbeat against your cheek, slow and steady. And you fell asleep just like that - sweet dreams eventually melting away into the morning sun.

[topazy]

Teen spirit

Pairing: Carl Grimes × reader, Maggie Greene × sister reader

Warnings: Blood, character death

Chapter: 5.04

“You still miffed that you’re staying?”

You tried to frown at Daryl’s question but couldn’t help but let the seriousness slip and laugh. You were ecstatic on the inside and doubted anything could knock you off the cloud you were drifting on. Beth was alive. Daryl had returned without Carol, but a boy named Noah was with him, who informed your group that Beth was alive. The same people who had taken Carol had taken your older sister, so now Rick was leading the way to bring the both of them back.

Once Beth and Carol were back, you’d be able to regroup with Maggie and Glenn. It filled your heart with so much joy that soon you could be with both your sisters again.

Of course you wanted to go rescue Beth with them, but Rick wouldn’t allow it; he said it was too dangerous, which you understand. “I wasn’t miffed, just disappointed.”

“Yeah right,” Daryl ruffles your hair, and he glances down at the hole you were digging. “That’s a good trench; I’ll see if I can get anymore wood and shit for it before I go.”

Most of the group had made spears out of wood from the pews in the church. You placed the DIY spears in front of the trenches surrounding the building so that any walkers that got too close would be impaled on them.

“Thanks.”

Not long after Daryl and Sasha handed you smaller pieces of wood for you to make smaller weapons out of, all of the group minus you, Carl, Father Gabriel, Michonne, and Judith stayed behind. Soon as they leave, Carl and Michonne nail the door shut to help slow down anyone or anything trying to get inside the church. The hammering noise causes Judith to cry, so you go and pick her up from the makeshift crib.

“Hey, hey, what’s all the noise about?” You ask gently, trying to shush her as you do. “The banging will stop in a moment, and then you go back to sleep.”

Hearing a scratching noise, you glance over at Gabriel, who is frantically trying to scratch dried blood off the wooden floors.

He was definitely starting to show signs he’s coming unhinged.

—

You smile brightly at Judith as she giggles, feeling your finger move over her tummy. Carl sits down beside you; he looks pleased to see his baby sister happy. He rubs his finger over her cheek gently. “What’s so funny, Judy?”

“She liked having her name spelled out on her tummy,” you explain, before tickling her.

Carl looks at you slightly confused. “Is her name spelled out?”

“My mom used to spell out words on mine and Beth’s back during bath time, and we’d need to guess what it was.”

Teasingly, he says, “It sounds lame.”

Your brows raise in amusement. “Turn around.”

Carl let out a deep sigh, pretending he didn’t want to do as you asked, but he began laughing the minute you spelled out the first letter.

“Z…o…m… Are you really spelling out zombie?”

You burst out laughing, “Okay, so it’s not that hard, but when we were kids, it was pretty fun to play. Plus, my mom would always pick bigger words; I’d always get so mad because Beth always got the ones I couldn’t spell right.”

He offers you a kind smile before picking Judith up and hugging her. Quietly, he says, “I tried to help Gabriel choose a weapon, but I think I just upset him.”

“He’s been isolated for so long, I don’t think he fully understands how bad things are.”

“I know; I just wish he would let us help prepare us.”

“He will come around eventually,” you said, letting Judith hold your finger with her whole hand. “I didn’t know much about the world outside my daddy's farm until the day he needed to help save a young boy's life.”

—

You and Carl remained sitting on the floor of the church, playing with Judith, until yelling from outside, followed by banging at the door, caught your attention. “Is that Father Gabriel?”

Michonne starts to break off the wooden slabs, preventing the door from opening. Carl hands you his sister before going to help her. Soon as the door opens, Gabriel falls to the floor, then hurry’s to scramble back up before the small herd of walkers burst into the church. You all follow Gabriel into his office, where you discover he’s put a hole in the floor that leads outside by ripping up the floorboards. When you hear scratches on the other side of the door, which was threatening to burst open, you nudge Carl to go. He jumps into the crawl space first, then you hand him Judith, then do the same thing seconds later.

When you reach outside, Carl helps you stand with his free hand. "Are you okay?”

“Yeah, are you?”

He nods before trying to calm Judith, who had begun crying with all the fast movements and loud noises going on around her. Michonne crawls out next, and the three of you wait nervously to see if Father Gabriel will make it out.

“Do you think he's…” You trail off, not wanting to finish the sentence, but are pleasantly surprised when you see a hand holding a bloody machete reaching out from underneath the church. You rush over and offer Gabriel your hand to help him stand up.

“Let’s go,” Michonne says, waving for you to follow. She makes her way to the front of the church and re-locks the doors, trapping the walkers inside.

—

You pace back and forth, trying to think of what to do next. You had hardly any supplies between you and enough baby food to last two days at most. “Do you think we would be able to clear the church?”

“No,” Michonne says, shaking her head. “Not with just us.”

Before you can say anything else, a fire truck comes speeding towards the church. Carl grabs you by the shoulders and pulls you back into the tree line, keeping you out of view of whoever it is.

The fire trucks smash into the front of the church, collapsing the front of the roof, making it impossible for anyone to go back inside. When the side of the truck opens and you notice your sister coming out, you run over to her with your arms wide open.

“Maggie!”

Glenn joins in on the hug and asks, “What the hell happened here?”

You pull back from the hug and say, "The dead got inside, but it’s not important; Beth is alive!”

Maggie’s eyes become glossy. “She’s alive?”

“She’s at a hospital in Atlanta,” Michonne confirms. “Rick and the others have gone to get her.”

Tears of happiness fall from Maggie’s eyes. She pulls you in for another hug and kisses the crown of your head. It wouldn’t be long until the three of you were reunited at last.

—

“Wait here,” Maggie says, closing the side door of the truck. “There’s still dead roaming around; stay in the truck until we clear the area.”

You roll your eyes and slump back into the chair. Maggie just shakes her head and softly laughs before walking off.

You watch as the group takes out the few walkers that approach them. You bounce your knees in anticipation, waiting for Beth to appear at any moment. You missed her so much; you missed her hugs, the braids she used to braid your hair, and you even missed hearing her singing, which used to drive you crazy. You try to distract yourself by focusing on Judith, who was babbling away in her brother's arms.

“There’s my dad,” Carl says, leaning forward to look past you. “Oh shit, Hope, I think something is wrong.”

You don’t hear what Carl says next to you as your eyes lock on to the figure in Daryl’s arms. “Beth!”

Carl figures it out before you and tries to reach for your hand, but you snatch it away, swing open the door, and jump down out of the fire truck. “Beth, Beth!” When you almost reach Daryl, you can see the red staining her blonde hair. “Why is there blood in her hair?”

Before you can get any closer, Rick spins and blocks your view. “Don't; you don’t want to see her like this.”

Your legs give way, and you crumble to the ground, sobbing. Beth was gone. Your sister was dead.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA of I want art trades to be of equal time/quality?

this is a weird one but I had a spat with someone recently because they wanted to do an art trade, which i was open to do, but we hit a weird impasse. When I do art trades I like to put forth as much effort as my trade partner puts forward first, and would prefer that if i put art first that my partner reciprocates the same amount of time and care.

Art style, quality, experience, follower count means nothing to me in the exchange, just the level of effort. It feels unfair to me that I would put in hours/days of work on a painting to only receive something done in less than a few hours, especially since that would basically be doing a free commission. I'm willing to give smaller/newer artists with less experience or cheaper software more effort in my half on the account that I trust they're doing their best with what they have. It's meant to be fun!

This is not an instance of that. I've checked this artist's gallery and they were perfectly capable of producing extensively detailed pieces, so I agreed to do a more detailed piece, as long as they do the same.

This is where things get weird. They were perfectly fine with me doing something bigger and were very excited, and I brought up that in my listed art trade rules, I'd like them to do the same. They agreed, and we both went to work. I'm a slow artist, so it's been taking me some time, and I'm well into working on colors and rendering. in the middle of this time is when I get my half. it's just lineart with some shading. it was very beautiful, and I'm grateful! but it's not necessarily a level of detail that we agreed on. So I kiss my flat colors and rendering goodbye and just quickly rendered the lineart to match.

They get excited and ask when the final of my half will be done. Confused, now assuming what they provided was just a WIP, I say when they finish theirs. They go "oh but this IS my final :)" and I am... still very confused.

I brought up our agreement to do equal effort and they go "but I did that, this took me a long time" to which I point out I've been working for a few days now to produce a fully rendered painting, which wasn't even finished by the time they posted theirs.

They start getting defensive saying that exertion of effort varies from person to person which I fully agree as a chronically fatigued person! but I still feel really scammed that I'm putting in all this work and they can only provide what their commission form claims is a "colored sketch" (and on the cheaper end too.)

They keep getting weird and defensive and I decide to just call the whole thing off, giving them the art I did and that it was final. They get pissy and call me an entitled asshole for wanting to "break their back" over a free art trade.

I would be perfectly happy getting a rendered sketch, if that were what we agreed on in the first place!

I don't think I'm the asshole here, but being called "entitled" really got to me, especially considering we WERE doing work for free. So here I am. Am I the asshole for wanting equal parts effort? Or am I just being entitled? I'd share the art pieces we did here but I won't out of privacy for both me and the other artist.

What are these acronyms?

[neongreenllama]

Prompt: Alpha

@wolfstarmicrofic - 645 words

“He’s just so hot. I mean have you seen him? Of course you’ve seen him, what am I asking. His bouncy curls and his pretty eyes, and, oh, his nose is so cute, and his hands. I mean come on, no one should be allowed to have hands like that that’s just unfair …”

Sirius babbled distractedly while James tried hard to look halfway interested and not make fun of his mate for being whipped. He’d listened many a times to James’ own poetics about a certain redhead, and now it was time to return the favor.

“… how is anyone supposed to concentrate when he looks like that? And it’s not just his looks, I mean it’s Moony, you know what I mean. He’s lovely and kind but he’s also so strong and mysterious and …”

James’ eyes drifted over his best mate’s shoulder as a scrawny guy crossed the corner to their hallway, carrying a bunch of books as he weaved through the other students. To James he just looked a bit tired as usual, maybe a bit sickly. But then again, that was also as usual.

“… Merlin, I bet he’s a real animal in bed. He has to be what with the wolf in him. I bet he’s dominating. D’you think he bites? I bet he bites. Ugh, I want him to bite me,” Sirius continued needily as Remus tripped over his own shoelaces, stumbled into a group of girls, and scattered his books everywhere. He immediately started apologizing profusely.

Sirius, who was still unaware of the presence of the object of his desires, sighed dreamily. “He’s such an alpha.”

James watched as a Slytherin kicked one of the books the dangerous alpha werewolf was trying to collect from the floor out of his reach. “Watch where you’re going, Loopy Lupin,” James heard him call. If it wasn’t for the pitiful sight he probably would have laughed at the complete lovesickness of his friend.

“I just –“ Sirius sounded dejected now. “Why doesn’t he want me? What am I doing wrong? D’you think he already has someone? Oh no, he probably shags the whole school except for me,” he groaned. “They’re probably all lining up. Who doesn’t want a piece of Remus Lupin?”

A few other students had now started up the familiar chorus of “Loony Loopy Lupin.” More joined in, and not just Slytherins to James’ absolute chagrin. They’d have to do something about that. He’ll have to talk to Lily.

James tore his attention away from the scene and patted his best friend’s shoulder who had buried his face in his hands, looking very distraught.

“You’re alright mate, I don’t think he has anyone else.”

Sirius’ head at once shot up with big, hopeful eyes. “Really? How do you know?”

“Just a feeling.” He glanced once more at the werewolf who looked more like a beaten puppy or a very tired seventeen-year-old boy lacking important vitamins. “Actually I think he might fancy you back.”

Sirius’ eyes got impossibly bigger and more hopeful. “You think?”

“Yeah, you’ve just got to be patient. Don’t give up yet. You know how it was Lily.”

“Yeah.” Sirius nodded as if to convince himself. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, mate.”

James clapped his shoulder. “Anytime. Now how about you start by helping him carry his books.”

He turned his friend around in the direction of one alpha werewolf Remus Lupin walking with his shoulders hunched over to appear even smaller than before. At the sight of him, Sirius’ posture immediately straightened up, and he put on that lazy smile and sauntered over, only his lovesick eyes betraying his self-assured attitude. As soon as Remus spotted him, his mouth tugged up in a dopey smile and his shoulders visibly relaxed. Which was a mistake because the tower of books lost its balance again and toppled over once more.