#trying to get out of an art block before it consumes me by drawing something other than the two people ive drawn for uh. six months straigh

[vlasdygoth]

ootd drawings except you wear basically the same thing to work every day like a cartoon character

[brabblesblog]

As if the gods made you to ruin me.

A little love letter for everyone who makes art for this vampire man.

Inspired by the Greek myth of Pygmalion and Galatea. First person POV. A sculptor confronts a piece of marble, and Astarion is their masterpiece. One-shot.

The idea of statues "breaking free" from the marble is taken from Michelangelo. This can be better seen in his Prisoners.

@spacebarbarianweird mentioned Pygmalion today, and this idea came to me.

Read on AO3.

P.S. If my writing is something you're interested in, please consider my masterlist. I highly recommend beginning with the 'Whither' series. Thank you<3

The finest, purest white marble. I stare at it, unsure, trying to parse out the figure trapped in the block for me to release. An elf, I think, my hands reaching out in front of me, imagining where the curves would be. Curls, long and growing over his ears. A sharp jaw, strong and yet delicate.

I pick up my tools, and begin my work.

It’s almost as if I’m not in control of my creation. My hands work of their own accord, carving in features that genuinely surprise me and were probably not what I would have preferred, but the longer I look, the more it seems right.

It has deep, piercing eyes, with crow’s feet. I find myself staring at it at times during breaks. It looks like it’s trying to escape its stony prison, emerging from the formless block. Its expression is poignant, as if it was lost in thought.

Smile lines? I draw backwards and away from the sculpture, frowning myself. It gave the man a look of maturity even though it was youthful. Together with the smile lines and the subtle wrinkles on its face, it seemed as if the man had lived a harrowing life before being trapped in the rock for me to uncover.

And yet, it was beautiful. There was something ethereal in the way it gazed out into space and pondered nothing.

I keep up the work. I feel myself slowly getting absorbed by it. The compulsion to keep going is overwhelming, and unlike any other. I don’t eat other than the bare minimum. I don’t leave my room unless necessary. I don’t think of much else other than what part of him to carve next.

It - no - he consumes my thoughts. In the day I carve and release him from his marble prison. At night I dream of him. Of his face, of his delicate hands, of his lithe body. I dream, I wish, and I long.

He is my finest work, the star amongst my oeuvre. My patrons are forgotten, their commissions delayed. Their ire is nothing to me. There is only him.

Astarion.

The name, his name, comes to me in a fever dream. He reaches out to me, and I ask him what he would want to be called.

A frown crosses those features, and I want more than anything to press my lips to his forehead and smooth the furrows on his brow. I watch him open his mouth, and it surprises me to see fangs.

“Astarion,” he says, and his voice catches me by surprise. There is a slight nasal timbre to it, and a drawl, almost a purr, at the end.

I snap awake, staring at the marble statue. He is looking at a spot about a meter away from where I am right now, the moonlight streaming through the window illuminating his ivory skin.

Ivory. Color. I remember now. His eyes were crimson, his hair white as snow. Features I had never imagined, the medium of my work limiting me from even considering anything regarding complexion. However, the stone was a close match to his skin in my dreams - a white so smooth it was almost pearlescent.

A vampire, I realize, as I remember one more thing: the scars on his neck. I pick up my chisel and walk over to the marble, my hands searching for the spot I remember from my dreams.

I carve, and it is perfect.

I wonder who he is, and what he’s done in his life. I am almost done freeing him, the stone block now only at his knees. I work on his genitals, shaping them as best as I can. I carve out a vein, which I would imagine to be of a bluish tint.

His body is beautiful, and I step back to admire it. Muscular, but not too large. Delicate, long limbs, the marble’s natural veins adding to the illusion of an actual circulatory system. Fingers that would make a pianist weep. Strong legs, with subtle thigh musculature.

He is full of contradictions. Masculine, and yet feminine, his hands on the delicate tilt of his hips. Youthful, and yet his face belies a strange maturity and melancholy. So real to me, and yet here he is, just the work of my hands and my overactive imagination.

I am enthralled.

I do not put him on display once he is done. I don’t sell him. He stays in my room, taking up valuable working space. I do not care.

He is my muse. I talk to him, argue with him, ask him for his thoughts. There is no response, no more dreams.

I weep. I mourn for something that never was. I seek company in lonely taverns, for warm bodies to lose myself in. It is never enough. It is not even close.

I cover him in a sheet. I don’t want to see him, to be reminded of what I so desperately need and can never have.

I try, so damn hard, to forget.

“You ruined my life!” I scream to no one in particular, to him. I am unable to work, my patrons having moved on to more productive artists. I want to throw my chisels at him, to topple him over and ruin him, as he had ruined me. But I cannot.

I rip off the sheets, staring at that face that had burrowed so deeply into my psyche, and I give in and move to press my lips against it. I close my eyes.

The lips that meet mine are cold - but not stone-cold - and soft. I feel hands move to wrap around my waist, tugging me close. I instinctively move my hands up over his head, and feel hair against my fingers - curly, fine strands that flow against my fingers like silk.

A very good illusion from my mind, I gather. As I pull away I force my eyes to open. Crimson ones meet me, and those smile lines crinkle as he grins.

“Hello, darling,” he breathes.

Taglist: @elora-the-slutty-songstress @tragedybunny @spacebarbarianweird @ayselluna @enterthedreams @coltaire@qiific3 @misscrissfemmefatale @vixstarria @eatyourheartoutmylove @linllewellyn @battisonsgf @micropoe10 @thegoodwitchs-blog @akirahime @velcyrptrr @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @babblebrain-blog @asterordinary @last-but-not-the-least @artist4theworld

[greekceltic]

FAQ Page

She/her | 38 | I like cats and rain. My comic: https://catswaycomic.com/ My Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/greekceltic My Ko-Fi: https://ko-fi.com/greekceltic Other links: https://linktr.ee/greekceltic Sorry in advance if you send me a message and I don't get back to you, I tend not to stress over messages/asks. I do try to read them though, and I'm always open to being asked questions about characters or my headworld/stories. I am already aware that my art is being copied. They're blocked. Please stop telling me about it. Rest of my FAQ is under the cut >

Can I repost your work? I don't mind as long as I'm credited. I'm less okay with my work being used as a pageviews grab, but it's probably not worth my time to care. If it's something I've selected to take down and don't have posted anymore, don't. If it's something you commissioned, go for it. You don't need to credit me every time you share it. Once in a while is cool.

Are you okay with fanart? What about OC interactions? Can I post it? Sure, just don't profit off of it and please credit me. If you want to draw my OCs interacting with yours that's also fine (and fun!)- though I prefer situations where their actions make sense. Alf wouldn't make your character cry, for example. He's grumpy but not cruel. Posting it is fine. Is it okay if I take inspiration from your art and concepts? I've been in a situation in recent years where another artist has taken far, far too much. It's a subject I'm pretty burnt out on. I recently saw another artist's take on this and it looked sensible to me. I'm just going to quote theirs. I have tried to find my own words, but right now I find myself more comfortable using someone else's. "Well, if you’re having to ask me for permission, either your design is too similar or you’re being overly nervous about a normal artistic process. You’re absolutely free to use my work as a source of inspiration but I’d strongly encourage you to think about the details from my design you like most, and remix them with other concepts into your own unique take."

Taking inspiration is something everyone does, but please don't become a shadow I get bi-weekly alerts about. Ideally your pool of inspiration will be many artists and concepts re-imagined into something unique to you- and that you're being honest with yourself about the result.

Your art is being copied! / Will you tell me who the copy cat is? I get a lot of messages about this and am tired. I'm sure if my art ends up somewhere it shouldn't be or there's something really worth my attention I'll find out through friends. Otherwise, I'm just sayin' get a second or third opinion before coming to my inbox. I probably already know about it.

I sent you a message and you didn't respond. Sorry about that. I tend not to stress about messages because it can be a drain. You're more likely to get a response if you let me know from the get go what you want, but nothing is guaranteed. Sometimes I didn't see it, sometimes I got busy or forgot, sometimes I plan to do it later, sometimes I just opted out. It's not personal. Where do you Rp? Are you looking for more partners? Discord mostly. Roleplay consumes a lot of time so these days I mostly only play with my buddy Thema. I probably wouldn't have time to play, but I like to hang around people that do and I don't mind being asked. Just please don't be sad if I never get around to responding! I'm most compatible with people who are comfortable with radio silence.

Can I use your characters in roleplay/as roleplay refs? Considering I actively roleplay my OCs and there's a potential for confusion, I'd rather you didn't. Though I think there's a difference between linking to my art and saying 'this is my character', and linking to it to say 'this has the mood I'm going for, but here's what's different about my character--'. The latter is fine.

Can I make Fan OCs for your setting? Thinking about this makes me tired. Maybe I'll get to a point where I'm more comfortable later, but for now I'd rather you didn't make something directly from my worlds. But lets be real, you don't need my permission to draw cat monsters and I take a huge amount of inspiration from ancient history. Many of my concepts are inspired by things that you can read about and be inspired too. If you see something and are curious if there's a historical source, just ask. Hopefully I'll remember.

Do I have permission to draw NSFW art of your characters? No, for a plethora of reasons, some easy to explain and some not, but I probably can't stop you. Just don't profit off of it or show it to me.

Do you have a website for your OCs? I have RP pages for them scattered all over the place and many of them are outdated, but as I type this I recently put some up on Toyhouse. https://toyhou.se/GreekCeltic

Do you have a website for your comic? Sure do. It's an expensive fuck. https://catswaycomic.com/ When does your comic update? Sporadically. I work on it when I have time. My income is solely freelance commissions and Patreon- mostly commissions.

There's other places you could post your comic! Yeah, I know. I may do that someday, but for now I like having my own house, even if it's an expensive fuck. (Not really, the renewal just hits around tax time, Lol).

[melodyofthevoid]

How do you push past writing block I've been stuck in purgatory for like 4 months now 💪

If I honestly had a foolproof answer for that I’d be writing so much you have no idea.

But, I do have some methods that I use when I’m feeling stuck.

Try other art: you can get exhausted trying to bang your head against that wall forever and it’s sometimes a sign to switch gears. I like to switch between drawing, making friendship bracelets, or embroidery! It helps me clear my head out and still feel like I’m making something!

New music: I often find inspiration in music, so I do my best when I’m in a rut to start searching for more inspiration!

Listen/consume something new: recently I’ve been listening to The Magnus Archives and it really kickstarted my brain! I love the way that they write the horror and the cadence/pacing is phenomenal. I also reread Gideon the Ninth and that was another great inspiration! Any way is good in terms of broadening your horizons!

Reread your old stuff: remember what made you happy when you completed that project. You did kinda write this stuff for you, enjoy it!

Take it easy on yourself: it’s not going to come back all at once or easily every time (given that you’ve said it’s been four months, I get it). One step at a time. Transitional periods in life, mental stuff, school, work, these can all get in the way and make it hard to have the energy to put pen to paper (metaphorically or literally).

Little exercises: try a new technique or genre you haven’t done before, write a poem or a song, journal, write some nonfiction, shake things up. Find an ask game and throw the ideas in a randomizer and see what you get!

I hope these help! I’m still working through my own slump (when am I not lol) but these are just some things that I do.

[diezmil10000]

hi 👋 you can call me diez or chisi

i am from spain and i like to draw lesbians. this is my main blog, if you're only here for my art and not for my reblogs you can follow my art-only blog!!

(FAQ under the cut)

what software and brushes do you use?

i work on ibisPaint X and Krita on a Samsung Galaxy Tab S6 Lite. i use a lot of different brushes for lineart but mostly these ones:

are your commissions open?

i will never do commissions, but thank you for your interest.

will you someday sell your art through an online shop / convention?

no, but feel free to print my stuff in good quality paper if you want to hang it on your wall.

how can i financially support you?

i have no need for that right now. please give your money to other artists or organizations.

can i repost your art / use it for edits?

i don't encourage it, but i don't mind. asking for permission and linking back to any of my social media would be appreciated too ♡ just don't use it for commercial purposes (sell merch, use as streaming layouts, etc)

how do you do X part of your drawing?

i recommend checking my speedpaints if you're curious, the name of the videos is the day i finished that drawing in YYMMDD format (as in, year-month-day). i also made a tag for my art thoughts, but if you still have a question feel free to send me an ask and i'll try my best to explain it!!

where did you learn anatomy?

i used to watch a lot of proko and sycra videos (on youtube), and also do gesture/figure drawings from photo references and k-pop dance practice videos.

when / why did you start drawing?

i started taking it seriously when i was 15. seeing lesbian fanart was what caused my gay awakening and i felt like there wasn't enough of it, so i decided to get better.

do you do traditional art?

i kind of dislike it, actually. i have filled over 1000 A4 sheets and 7 sketchbooks over the years, but it's all quick doodles to practise or warm up. when i bought a tablet i could carry around i stopped drawing traditionally as often, but i still find myself drawing in my sketchbook from time to time when i want to sketch midlessly or get better at something.

do you draw nsfw art?

very rarely, but i only show it to my friends. i do consume a lot of nsfw content tho, just not in public 👍

how do you keep yourself motivated?

a combination of drawing only what i like and a strong desire of seeing more lesbian art. that's why i mostly make fanart and almost never participate in art trades or make art gifts. i also don't want to make a career out of drawing.

have you gone to art school?

i have a college degree in graphic design, but it has almost no correlation with the kind of art i share online. before that i never studied art academically.

are you seriously a furry?

yes.

are you seriously a communist?

you call me a communist, socialist, leftist– i just want people to be happy and i heavily oppose capitalism on its fundamentals.

are you an anti or a pro shipper?

i am neither, i don't care about this.

are you aware that you follow someone who did something problematic?

i mostly follow other artists, so if i've been following someone problematic for a long time it probably isn't that deep for me to unfollow them.

do you have any ocs?

plenty! but i don't like to talk about them in public

can i be your friend / talk regularly with you?

i don't like to talk to strangers, but if i'm following you feel free to interact with me at any time~

what's the name of your cat?

yonyon ! she's a female cat but i treat her by any and all gendered terms

why have you disabled your DMs, story replies and sometimes comments?

because i dislike interacting with fandoms, especially big ones. i draw for myself and for the lesbians with niche interests, so i don't want to read weird comments, block overly friendly DMs or watch strangers have a public debate about my moral standards. i'm very thankful towards all of you who love my art tho, even if i can't read all of your positive thoughts!! also, there are plenty of ways to contact me, they're just not in plain sight 💋

[gamesception]

Sception Reads Cass Cain #25

Batgirl (2000) #10 Words: Kelley Puckett Pictures: Scott & Campanella

With a new status quo established, the book takes a break from serialized business and goes back to stand alone episodic stories for a bit, like as with issue #2 from way back when. And as with issue #2, the focus is on "street level" stories emphasizing the humanity of the characters involved, the sort of smaller stories that would get lost in the over-the-top action and larger-than-life supervillains of typical superhero comics.

I don't have too much to say about this story specifically. It's kind of a sad bit about a guy named Kenny with extreme inferiority issues and a mean violent streak who gets fired from a job he didn't think he deserved in the first place, doesn't think he will ever find anything else, and decides to take out the new boss who let him go in a murder suicide.

Despite Cass's attempted intervention he succeeds at the murder part, but fails at the suicide part when it turns out he's metahuman and literally bullet proof. His whole life convinced of and consumed by his own inadequacy only to find out too late just how special he really was.

Like with Mr. Merc in issue one, Kenny's not a good guy, not a good person. But the story takes pains to humanize him. It invites you to empathize with him. Sort of a 'bad people are still people' motif that runs through a lot of Cass's early stories and ties into her relationship with her father, but also to her own feelings of guilt and inadequacy. The issue never directly draws a connection between Kenny and Cass, but there's a really strong parallel there even so, too strong for me to believe it's just a coincidence.

Cass also has a job that she loves, that she commits everything to, but that she doesn't feel she actually deserves. She's also sure at any moment her boss might realize just how unsuited she really is and fire her, bringing down her entire life around her, shutting her off from the only future she can see for herself. What would Cass do then? Would she give up? Would she lash out, like Kenny did? It's not even hypothetical, we just got out of an arc where Cass lost her job and essentially committed herself to suicide-by-Shiva to get it back.

So if there's that much in common between Cass and Kenny, then has Cass also been unwittingly denying herself a bigger life and a better future this entire time, just like Kenny had? One she hasn't been able to see because she's been to focused on keeping a job and a life that deep down she doesn't even believe she deserves? And if so, will she realize in time to do something about it, or like Kenny will it be too late?

....

Ok, so I guess I had more to say about this particular story than I thought.

Other than that, I think it's also worth taking a look at how the storytelling style has changed now that Cass can talk - or more to the point how it hasn't. Even though Cass can talk now, even through she does have an internal monologue expressed in words, we don't actually see it in this issue. There are narration blocks, but they're entirely from Kenny's perspective. Cass has word bubbles when she talks to Babs, but when she's on her own she's as silent as she ever was, and her emotional state and though processes are conveyed through the art, through her poses and expressions, just like before.

Like in this bit where she tries to knock Kenny out and he just no-sells it with an 'ow', and she looks at her fist in confusion before winding up to hit him /extra/ hard, her cape wrapping around her in the pose to convey just how much extra force she's packing into the second hit.

I also like how Cass and Babs start and end the book with Babs trying to get Cass to ease off on training and try to engage on some normal life activities, and both times Cass passes in favor of more training. The first time, you get the feeling that she's training so much for the joy of having her abilities back, and there is a random fight against some street toughs where you get the sense that she's kind of playing with them...

(I love how the belt of big boxy pouches acts like a skirt to add an extra feeling of motion and specificity to the silhouette)

But then at the end when Cass is doubling down on training you can tell it's because she failed, that she feels she should have saved that woman, that she could have if she were better.

...

So anyway, it's nice to see that even though Cass is talking now, the core artistic concepts that were basically the reason she was mute in the first place - to get her stories away away from the reliance on narration, to let the artwork do more of the heavy lifting in both narrative and characterization - that's all still here. At least with her current creative team. At least for now.

[creaturefeaster]

How do you deal with things such as artblock?

I put down the stylus and stop trying to force a drawing out. I leave creation mode and enter absorption mode, where I take in inspiration and spend time teaching myself instead.

I usually spend a week, give or take, observing and appreciating things that I see. I'll watch my birds for hours, I'll go on longer walks to take in the shapes of the trees and the cracks of the roads, I'll spend extra time viewing and appreciating art that I like and can be inspired by. I'm not a big show watcher, but I think watching some good shows or movies also helps spark ideas that break the block.

Art block is (usually) just your brain letting you know it needs rest. Just like working out, sometimes you need to take a break for a week so you don't strain yourself and make it take even longer to get "back on schedule."

It can be really frustrating when you feel like you want to draw but nothing is coming out. Because you also want that momentum, right? If you were on a roll a few weeks before, suddenly it feels like you'll never be able to draw again but that's not true.

Just put the pen down and go study the world. The clouds in the sky will teach you that nothing stays the same way forever, and the dirt will prove to you that in order to create, you must take from parts of your world that are foreign to you.

Does that make sense? Just consume something new or appreciate stuff in a new light, you'll find things come to you naturally more often rather than trying to force it all out.

This goes for any sort of art. Not just drawing. But writing, crafts, songwriting, they all take inspiration from life, and they all take energy to create. So take breaks and enter absorption mode with me brother!!!!

[livingdiarrhea]

If I do something problematic, please tell me privately and give me like a day or two before making it a public thing <33

Current obsession(s): Saiki K(and mob psycho 100 but I’m still in season 2 so not reblogging for fear of spoilers)

Other things I reblog: cat memes, funny memes, and other shows, even though I’m not obsessed with them anymore.

About my obsessions

They change about every week to a couple of weeks, with the most intense being months (although the intensity will level out) They’re pretty intense (in my opinion) and take up a LOT of the little brain space I have (which becomes a bit of an issue…sometimes a major issue haha). I don’t call everything I enjoy an obsession, for example, I currently do not have an obsession with art, although I do it frequently, and i do occasionally pick back up an obsession with art and then drop it. For me to classify it as an “obsession” I have to be watching a lot of media with said thing, (it’s usually almost exclusively media about my obsession) and I have to be thinking about it relatively often in my free time. Obsession has a very specific meaning when I use it, it’s kind of like a hyperfixation, although, in my understanding, that is a neurodivergent-specific term and probably a different thing, so unless I’m diagnosed with anything, obsession it remains. They usually happen the worst/most all consuming when I’m in a bad mental state, or have a lot of free time, though it doesn’t necessarily have to be either of those two. I’m trying to figure myself out a little more, and I find putting a cute nice little term on my obsessions helps me get a bit more of an identity I guess. I didn’t realize there was a pattern until I met my friend with hyperfixations, and then I realized I’ve had a similar thing. It’s gotten more intense throughout the years. It can be animals/pets(birds, Guinea pigs, rats, dogs, cats), shows, activities/hobbies(puppetry, drawing), movies(although that’s less common), oc story ideas, “subjects”(psychology, ASL), games (dnd), almost anything, really.

Little intro

Hey. It’s me. I’m a minor. [she/her]. Refer to me by my username. This blog is just about me and my ever changing obsessions. I’ll be mostly reblogging, but maybe you’ll enjoy a little nugget of art or text posts occasionally.

I copy and change speaking mannerisms pretty quickly (in my opinion), so be aware of that! I’m not trying to sound like someone I’m not, I swear it’s mostly subconscious!

Slight tmi here:

I won’t straight up vent on here, but know that I kind of exaggerate my problems. I’m also sort of ‘attention seeking’, but I try to make sure I’m not being problematic. If I randomly delete my blog, it’s probably because I’ve realized I’m cringey and now I want to erase my cringey tracks. It happens every couple of months, unfortunately, I’m a very cringey person. I’m hoping it’s not a big deal on tumblr.

TMI ends.

Unnecessary About me: I’m Indian (parents from India), cis but not het, born, raised, and live in the U.S., neurotypical (as far as I’m aware), I like art, writing, and music, although I’m mostly interested in art, I’ve been in a lot of fandoms.

DNIs

I’ll block you myself if need be, don’t make any sexual comments towards me, though (this should be a given.)

Sorry if I interacted with you and didn’t read your dnis, I reblog things very quickly, I try to remember to look at them when I can! Feel free to block me if you get angry or upset with me, it’s there for a reason(not mean)!

[zephyrrydrake]

Welcome to my blog!

Welcome to my blog! I hope you can enjoy whatever the heck I end up posting here!

Who are you?

If you know who Rydrake6 is, you know who I am. If you don't, I'll introduce myself really quick.

You can call me Zephyr. I'm a tiger/dragon hybrid who likes drawing, making music, writing, making games, and doing pretty much any creative thing you can think of. I'm an autistic trans man and a minor, and I've got way too many creative projects to work on.

Why does this blog exist?

This blog was made because I Reblog way too much stuff on my main. Which honestly isn't really a bad thing, but it is inconvenient when I'm trying to find something I posted like an audio or a piece of art and I have to scroll through a literal sea of reblogs to get to it. Other than that, I kind of always wanted a side blog where I don't have to worry about a brand and stuff. Speaking of which, I'm probably going to stop trying to make a brand out of myself and just create things like people are meant to do on the internet instead of being obsessed with numbers and the possibility of earning a living off of making stuff, but that's not a conversation for this post.

What's going to be posted here?

I don't have any particular idea for what I'm gonna post on this blog, just that there are going to be very few, if any, reblogs. Mainly because of the situation with my main blog. However, a few things that you can probably expect from this blog are looks at creative projects that I'm working on (Music, movies, shows, stories, drawings, ect.), Life stuff (Basically whatever I feel like talking about in my life. Nothing identifying though of course. I'm not stupid.), And probably a few shitpost and memes too. If I do Reblog stuff, you're probably gonna see me saying stuff at the bottom.

Boundaries TL;DR

So I realize that I have a bad habit of writing entire fucking essays when I should just keep it short and sweet, and my boundaries are no exception. So here's a quick summary of all of them.

If you're a bad person who supports bad things or you just make me uncomfortable, you're getting blocked.

Don't come into my askbox asking for money or donations.

You can DM me but I am a socially awkward weirdo due to years of isolation so watch out.

Boundries being broken = block.

Long version of my boundaries under the cut.

What are you doing in my house?

Irrelevant. Now lead me to your stash of waffle fries before I eat your firstborn instead.

Long version of the boundary list

Not sure how effective this section is gonna be. I've been told many times that DNIs don't work, but I'll include one anyways just because. It's less of a "Pwetty pwease don't look at my blog UwU" and more of a "If you're any of the things on this list I will block you on sight." So here are some ground rules.

DNI/You will be blocked on sight if you are a TERF, a racist, a transphobe, basically a bigot of any kind, a pedophile, a zoophile, a necrophile, pretty much if you have any kind of paraphilia that actively causes harm to someone or is just straight up gross, if you condone or consume loli/shotacon/cub content, if you condone or consume feral nsfw, if you are a trump supporter, if you are a zionist, or if you are a right winger of any kind. That's all I could think of for the DNI, you don't have to take it seriously I know that DNIs do not work. But I'm just putting this here so that you know that if you are any of the things on this list, you will be blocked on sight. This list is subject to change in the future.

Don't come into the askbox of this blog asking me to donate stuff or boost your posts. I'm not saying that I wouldn't do it, I'm just saying that I want to keep this blog to just being personal stuff. Normally I'd say go to my main blog, @rydrake6, but I'm taking a break right now to think about stuff.

My DMs are open, just don't be a dick. (Also keep in mind that I have pretty bad social anxiety and just bad social skills in general, or so I think, so I might be a little bit awkward.)

Breaking the boundaries listed above will lead to you getting blocked.

[rockinracket]

Puddle of Progress

We are NEVER stagnant!

By Gwen Hall - Art Director of Rockin' Racket (2024)

As Rockin’ Racket looks forward to its Springtime launch and subsequent updates this March, one thing that keeps shoveling coal into my creative furnace is an amazing thing called “progress”. What defines our progress as creatives? Is it how close we are to our end goal, or how far we are from the start? What defines our success – Sales? Publicity? Completion? As an artist, progress sometimes feels extremely stagnant, and we are always told that progress is not linear. Sometimes, we are still. Sometimes, we get stuck. How do we overcome art block, or keep from feeling like we have fallen from grace?

I have taken myself seriously as an artist for about 10 years now, and I am proud to say I am one of the many lucky ones who can say I have drawn since I could hold a utensil. Of course, this does not keep me from comparing myself to others. As consumers and makers of media in a society that values both quality AND quantity, it’s so easy to become overwhelmed by comparison. However, in consuming media, we are exposed to many images that can subliminally inspire us to try new things, draw features a certain way, learn tricks to work faster, to grow.

Check out this piece of fan art I made in 5th grade. I have never known another person to talk about Happy Happy Clover, but surely it had some effect on me (look at the game I’m working on)!

Progress. How we improve and grow is not a one-way street, unfortunately. At times it can feel as if we move backward. While in college, studying game art and illustration, I literally could not tell you about art that I was proud of or made for myself for the first 3 years of a 4-year degree program. A majority of my passion was directed toward assignments that lacked value in my eyes or were -- for lack of a better image-evoking term -- entirely half-assed. Burnout imminent, I tuned out of my personal practice. Only recently I made time for myself to enjoy what I do. What did I do in the past 3 years, and how did I maintain skill? I made no visible progress, so how did I improve?

I’m sure artists are very familiar with a rendition of this progress graph. I know I keep this in the back of my mind at all times: 

While I was not actively putting my nose to the grindstone, I watched a lot of television, animated or otherwise, from 2020 to 2023. I'm sure a considerable portion of the globe was right there with me. While doomscrolling, pressing "continue watching", or staring at myself wistfully in the mirror for hours just to keep myself from rotting in bed, I was studying. I promise this goes somewhere!

When we take in media, we also subliminally absorb messaging, images, and ideologies. In an advertisement-heavy social sphere, of course, this is how the best ads grab our attention. As artists, other things grab our attention: colors, forms, textures, etc. Every day for three years, I could not make myself make time to enjoy making something, but I was always looking for that something that kick my butt into gear.

We see before we can execute. When we execute before we can see, or draw without reference before having a reference in mind, we can get messy. This is true no matter the skill level. Here is a recent redraw I worked on, more fan art of course:

While I might not have had an exact reference present, I was (and am) able to apply fundamentals that I collected from looking at other art, other movement, and other life. Fundamentals are the building blocks of every practice, but so is participating in communities circling those practices. As makers of visual media, we never exist in a vacuum. One thing that I have learned from being an artist is that we are always learning for each other, even when we are not actively "making".

Progress is never stagnant, and even the most still puddles are picked up by the water cycle.

Check out Rockin’ Racket on Twitter (X), Instagram, and YouTube to follow our journey of getting our band to stardom!

[heartfulselkie]

Okay so I've gathered my thoughts so I'm just going to go ahead and post this.

This ended up a lot longer than I wanted it to be, so I'm putting the post undercut so as not to be a huge block of text on people's dashes.

Firstly, thank you to those who have been reading and enjoying my fics. It means a lot to me and I really appreciate that some of you even take the time to leave a comment or message me on my Tumblr.

Unfortunately this past year has been particularly rough for me and my mental health has been pretty abysmal. I'm not going to go into the details of it, but things just haven't been great. Writing has helped me a lot with that in the past, but recently it's just not doing the same. I've been writing but it feels like its going nowhere. I try to encourage interraction with my fics/writing on Tumblr but a lot of the time it feels like it comes up empty. Now I'm not blaming anyone or wanting anyone to feel guilty for that. People are allowed to consume fan content as they want and have a choice if they want to respond to it or not. I don't want anyone to feel like I'm forcing them into something they don't want to do. Because I share what I write so that other people can enjoy it and because I love writing.

My love of writing has become complicated though. And that's partly because I've started drawing again and sharing that as well. So now I'm seeing the huge disparity between my art content and writing content. And as much as I appreciate that people like my art, its disheartening for me as a writer. And I've always considered myself a writer before being an artist. It's just been getting harder and harder to write. I've lost a lot of confidence in it. I can see my art posts circling Tumblr again and again while any posts about my fics or to do with writing are just dead in the water after a day. Even if I reblog it multiple times, I'm lucky to get one like each time. Currently my writing takes far more time and effort for me than drawing. I'm feeling pressurised to write a lot and to update a lot just to keep some kind of consistent interest. But I just can't do that with my current health. I'm aware that the gap between chapter updates for Citrus and Lavender has slowly been getting longer and I hate it.

So now that I've hopefully explained the context, what does it mean?

The next chapter of Citrus and Lavender is going to be the last one for a while. Once I've finished chapter 33 and uploaded it, the fic will be going into hiatus. I need to put my writing and AO3 aside for the time being. At least until I can let go of the false expectations and pressure I've built for myself. It takes way too much of my time and effort for me to write fanfic for me to only feel inadequate with it. And I know I'm a capable writer, or at least I believe myself to be. But for the moment I'm just not in the best headspace for it.

I'm really sorry for this. Especially since chapter 33 for Citrus and Lavender is going to be a shit cut off point. I do still have every intention of finishing the fic, it's just going to be a long wait for it. I'll keep working on it at my own pace, I'll just not be uploading the chapters until probably the whole fic is done. By then I'll hopefully be in a better headspace to share it.

For my other fanfic WIPs I'm not too sure. They'll be in limbo for the time being while I work on them occasionally. But I'm not planning to be uploading any individual chapter of a multichapter fic for the foreseeable future.

As for my Tumblr I'll be cutting back my activity there too. I'll still post on occassion or share some of my art, but I will be a lot less present than I have been.

Again I want to stress that this is not meant to serve as a guilt trip for anyone. This has just been a PSA on my current state and how I can't continue to keep going as I have been. I just need time to find my own value in my writing again.

Thanks to everyone who has left comments on my fics or reached out to me to tell me how much they enjoy my work. It's meant a lot to me and given me enough to know there are people out there that like what I share, no matter what my insecurity tells me.

And thank you to everyone who took the time to read all of this. I appreciate it.

[fatal-error-blog]

FATAL_ERROR COMIC AND CONTENT WILL RETURN JANUARY 2022!

TL;DR at the end~ Hey folks! I’m so sorry I’ve been absent from the blog and from the discord for such a long time. I mentioned that I was taking a break back in…oh geez, May? And that break has gone on for much longer than I expected XD Long story short, I am very okay! This has just been an exceptionally busy year, and I’ve had to rearrange my priorities a bit to navigate it all.

To be absolutely honest, I’ve just been burnt out. Not from just the comic, but from a lot of things outside the blog. And if you’ve ever been burnt out, then you know that it kinda doesn’t matter how passionate or excited you are to work on your projects - you just keep hitting a wall that doesn’t really let you progress. Unfortunately I hit that wall, haha. So I’ve been taking the time to recover from it. Legitimately, this blog post took several weeks longer than I wanted it to, just because I was trying to gather enough will to draw a cute little drawing to go along with it. Eventually I figured that it needed to go up without it.

It sucks to have to admit that I needed to step away from the comic, the blog, and the discord. It’s hard to admit to myself that I was having a hard time balancing everything and that despite being excited about where the comic was headed, I just physically and mentally had to take a break. It feels really bad to have a lot of fun ideas about what I want next for the story, for all the side comics and the graphic novel and just not be able to act on them because something within me is just tired and needs a minute before continuing. It sucks to disappoint everyone who’s come to love this story and is also just as excited to see what happens next.

I think deep down I’ve always been scared that I’d give up on the Fatal_Error comic, which is why I was hesitant to step away from it to take care of other things that had to be taken care of. But I think I know now that completing this story is so important to me that I could never give up on it. But I do know that I need to give myself time to get some other things in my life in order, so that I can get through the block and come back to the comic ready to keep moving forward. So I hope you’ll be patient with me and rejoin me when the comic starts back up in January 2022. I don’t want to bore ya’ll with details, but probably the biggest thing I’ve got going on outside of this blog is trying to advance my career. I work in game development (QA Tester, been that way for a few years) and I’m more than ready to move up in the development pipeline. So I’ve been dedicating a lot lot lot of my time trying to work on those skills and apply for jobs. It’s very time consuming, haha. And mentally taxing. So I’ve been using this time (and I’ll be using the rest of the year) to work on some indie projects, beef up my portfolio, and hopefully get hired for a better job than I have now. I can’t express how much that’s gonna relieve a lot of stress for me, and less stress = more energy to spend on the Fatal_Error comic.

I do still plan to stream working on these projects, it’s (probably) not gonna involve Fatal haha but there is a lot of art involved and me bumbling around trying to program which should be entertaining to some extent, so if that’s something you’re interested in I’ll mention whenever I’m planning on streaming and you’re more than welcome to pop in and see what all the fuss is about.

As for discord, I’m never really far ^_^ I keep discord open all the time, and even if I don’t post or do much in the discord, I’m always nearby to check in and available to talk if ya’ll need me. I’ll try to be more involved though <3

I think that’s the major stuff? I really am looking forward to hopping back into Fatal’s story once things calm down on my end. It’s been a really wonderful source of comfort and expression for me and I love where the story is going, and I love getting to share it with ya’ll. I’m sorry for making you all wait so long for what comes next, but as always, I sincerely hope that once we get there, it’ll be worth the wait. Thank you for your patience, your kindness, and your enthusiasm. I’ll be around (and catching up on the inbox, messages, etc haha), but in terms of the comic, I’ll see ya’ll in January 2022 <3

Stay determined! I know I will be ^_^ <3 Xedra

TL;DR:

Is the comic over?/Is the blog dead? Nope! Just on pause until January 2022. What about the volume 2 of the graphic novel? Also on pause! I’m hoping to open preorders in March/April 2022. Are you okay? Yup! Thank you for asking, and I’m sorry for making you worry. What are you going to be doing in the meantime? I’m going to be working on some game development projects. I’m working on applying for jobs and I need stuff for my portfolio, and I also want to make sure I have something to do after Fatal_Error is finished ^_^ Are you still gonna stream? Yup! It’ll probably be non-Fatal_Error stuff but you’re more than welcome to watch me work! I’ll make a post about it when I have the times and stuff sorted out. Are you gonna be back on discord? Slowly, but yup. I’ll kinda chill in the background if you need me. You gonna play Deltarune Chapter 2? HEcK YEAH MY DUDE

[cower-before-power]

Naked Attraction

Summary: A typical day in your art class turn into anything but when you’re introduced to your nude model for the week- a devastatingly gorgeous man named Levi.

Pairing: Modern AU Levi Ackerman x F!Reader

TW: Nudity, swearing, suggestive content, age gap (reader is 20, Levi is 30), dick jokes, reader is thirsty and lewds Levi hard, perhaps poorly written stuff about art and drawing because I literally know nothing haha

(minors please do not interact, just to be safe)

Link to A03 here

A/N: Hello all! This is my entry for @ghost-party’s Meet Cute Collab with my darling husband Levi. I’ve never written for him before so I was a little nervous haha, I hope I did him justice! Thank you to everyone who reads, likes, comments, and reblogs- you are all wonderful and I appreciate your support! I hope you enjoy, my sweet potatoes!

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“Morning,” Jean greets you with a crooked smile and a steaming cup of coffee. It’s the good stuff from the café by his apartment, your favourite thing to help your brain shift into creative mode. “You’re later than usual.”

You grab the cup from him, sighing as you feel the warmth bleed into your hands. “Overslept. Barely had time to get dressed and brush my teeth.”

Jean’s eyes rove over you as you sink into your chair, humming to yourself as you sip on your drink. “I can see. Do you know you’re wearing two different shoes? And I think your sweater is on inside out. Why do you still even have that ugly thing anyways?”

“Thank you for your comments,” you roll your eyes. “I know I look like a hot mess and I don’t need any words from you, Mr. I Asked The Nude Model Out And Got Shot Down.”

Jean’s ears turn red, and he shoots you a dirty look before busying himself with arranging his pencils. “Shut up.”

You snicker to yourself as you set up your own area. Last week’s model had been a soft, pretty brunette that had instantly made Jean all starry-eyed, like a teenage boy with his first crush. It was generally considered a bit taboo to ask out the nude models, but he’d thrown that aside and gone for the kill after she’d slid back into her clothes. She’d laughed and patted his cheek like he was a naughty child asking for candy before dinner. Then proceeded to walk out and climb onto the back of her boyfriend’s motorcycle (but not before making out with said boyfriend for a good 5 minutes, minimum).

Jean had been left with red cheeks and no date, and you’d been left with great blackmail material.

“I wonder who will be our victim today,” you decide to take mercy on your poor friend and change the subject. “Most likely a guy, since we had a woman last week.”

“We’ll know in about 5 minutes,” Jean looks up at the clock on the wall. “Old Cueball is never late.”

Sure enough, in exactly 5 minutes your very bald and very punctual professor casually strolls through the door. A short man in a green coat is following him, presumably your newest subject. You crane your neck, trying to get a better look at his face, but all you can see is dark hair falling like a curtain over pale skin.

“Good morning class,” Professor Pyxis greets you, tossing his briefcase down on his desk with his usual nonchalant air. “I see you are all ready, so let’s get right to it.” He gestures to the person beside him. “This is Mr. Levi Ackerman. He’s your model for the week.”

The class murmurs in curiosity as the mentioned Levi Ackerman turns to face the room.

You swear your heart actually skips a beat.

Steel gray eyes observe the room from a face that practically begs to be immortalized through art. Every line is hard and strong, covered in clear skin that looks like it would slide under your fingers like the smoothest silk. Your eyes drink in his features greedily, from the regal bridge of his nose to the proud edge of his jaw. You decide your favorite thing though, is his cheeks. They are utterly cherubic, round and full and dusted ever so lightly with the lightest shade of pink.

He’s possibly the prettiest man you have ever seen.

“Hey, I know him,” Jean whispers, cutting off your entranced thoughts. “That’s Mikasa’s distant cousin, the one I told you she found on Ancestry.com last year. I’ve met him once, he’s got a stick so far up his butt, he’d need surgery to remove it. Never would have pegged him for the type to do this sort of thing.”

You vaguely remember a previous conversation involving Jean’s childhood friend and some long lost relatives.

“He doesn’t look that uptight,” you muse, too busy admiring the way his lips glint temptingly under the fluorescents to really process Jean’s words. “He’s beautiful, like something out of a Renaissance painting.”

Jean opens his mouth to reply, but Pyxis begins to speak.

“As usual, draw whichever side of him is facing you, all angles will be graded equally,” your professor plops himself down in his chair, already scrolling through his phone to find the playlist for the day. “Completed drawings to be submitted to me by the end of class on Friday. Please remember be respectful and courteous to our guest. Mr. Ackerman, whenever you’re ready.”

The man nods to your professor, already slipping out of his coat as he steps up onto the platform in the center of the room. You watch, mesmerized, as he proceeds to shed himself of his clothes. It’s rigid and methodical (he folds his clothes like he’s worked his whole life in a department store), but somehow oddly endearing. Every inch of his body that is revealed is consumed eagerly by your shameless stare, and you sincerely hope you don’t start drooling. By the time he carefully removes his final items, you feel like you are vibrating in your seat.

Holy fucking shit, he’s built like a god. Like Michelangelo himself carved him out of a block of the most pristine marble. You trace your gaze down the column of his throat, over the strong shoulders and sinewy arms, the impressive set of abs, the thighs that look like they could crush your head and you’d be nothing but happy about it. It takes a minute before you’re able to make yourself look between his thighs, and when you finally do, you have to looks away immediately. Good grief, even that is stupidly handsome. You can’t help but wonder if it would feel as nice as it looks.

Your face heats from your lewd thoughts, and you grip your pencil so hard it almost snaps. Beside you, Jean snickers.

“You okay over there? It looks like you’re about to explode.”

“Can it,” you hiss, glad that the ambient music Pyxis chose will probably keep your conversation private. “I can’t help it that I’m looking at the most gorgeous dick attached to the most gorgeous man I think I’ve ever seen.”

“You haven’t seen mine.”

“I don’t own a microscope.”

“Ooooh, see if I buy you coffee tomorrow, bitch.”

You stick your tongue out at him before turning back to your easel. As you move, you catch the gaze of Levi, his expression unreadable. Warmth creeps up the back of you neck, and you duck behind your sketchpad in embarrassment. You seriously hope he didn’t hear you, he’d probably report you to Pyxis for being creepy. You decide to lock all your stupid horny thoughts deep within the recesses of your mind, and take a few deep breaths to clear your head.

It works, and as you touch pencil to paper, the desire to create overflows inside of you.

Unsurprisingly, you become utterly engrossed in your work, your pencil sweeping over the pad with almost a mind of it’s own. Levi is the perfect model; you swear he’s not even breathing as he majestically hold his pose without even a quiver. The contours of his body spring to life on the page, and you can’t stop the joyful smile that blooms on your lips as you work. It’s times like these, when everything is so perfect, that you truly realize just how much you love making art.

Before you know it, Pyxis announces class is over, and you’ll resume with Levi tomorrow. The man of the hour begins to re-dress as your fellow classmates pack up their supplies and file out. You absent mindedly wave to Jean, who is practically sprinting out the door so he can make his next class all the way across campus. You’re still engrossed in your drawing, staring at it with critical eyes. It good, one of the best starts you’ve had all year, but now that the high of creating has worn off, you can see where you need to improve.

“You’re very good.”

You gasp and jump, whirling around to find Levi standing behind you, eyes fixed on your sketch. How did he even get there? You hadn’t seen him or heard him.

“Oh, uh, Mr Ackerman!” You squeak, your heart racing like you’ve just run a marathon.  “T-that’s very nice, I mean, thank- thank you very much!”

“It’s Levi,” your muse says, seemingly unbothered by your stammering. “Yours is going to be the best one here.”

You blink stupidly at his bold statement. “Did you look at all of them?”

“No,” Levi’s voice is firm, a tone that brokers no argument. “But you had the most joy on your face while you worked. That much passion doesn’t churn out stuff that looks like shit.”

“Oh, that’s only because you are such a great model,” you gush, insides turning warm at his praise. “You stayed so still and you looked so damn regal and you’re just so pretty and-” Your eyes go wide as you realize the absolute words vomit leaving your mouth, mortification slithering up your spine.

“I’m pretty?” Levi raises an eyebrow. “You think I’m pretty?”

“No!” You shout, and the man’s other eyebrow joins the first. “No wait, yes! I mean, fuck, I mean you are probably the most handsome man I’ve ever seen!”

Levi’s eyebrows have now practically become one with his hairline. You wring your hands, wishing the floor would just open up and swallow you. “I-well- come on, people must tell you how good looking you are! I can’t be the first.”

“No, but you certainly are the most enthusiastic about it,” Levi deadpans.

Oh, someone just put you out of your misery now.

“I’m sorry,” you offer, cringing internally at your complete ineptitude to hold a conversation with an attractive man. “I....get carried away sometimes.”

“It’s fine,” Levi’s stoic expression softens just a little. “It’s kind of nice to hear, actually. Usually I’m told I’m good looking, but ‘far too short’.”

“That’s bullshit.” you say vehemently, honestly shocked people would deny this man his godhood over something as trivial as height. “Who cares if you’re shorter? It doesn’t detract from you. What’s that phrase again? Good things come in small packages? Well, not that you’re small, I’m not saying that, I just meant-”

“Yes, you did seem to find my package....good,” Levi interrupts, and you swear you see the corners of his lips twitch upwards.

Your eyes widen in horror as your brain replays your hushed conversation with Jean. “You heard that?!”

“I’m told I have exceptionally good hearing.”

“Oh fuck me,” you groan, burying your face in your hands. “I am literally so, so, sorry. That was completely out of line. I have no excuse other than it’s clearly been too long since I’ve gotten some, but that’s no reason to make you uncomfortable. Please, if there’s anything I can do to to make it up to you, I’ll do it!”

“Have tea with me.””

Your head shoots up, surprise coloring your features. “What?”

“Tch, you heard me,” Levi tuts, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out his phone. “I haven’t got free time till Saturday-stupid Shitty Glasses wanting to trade shifts-but if you want to go out, give me your number and we can work out the details.”

You stare at him with your mouth open, unsure if this is really happening or you’re vividly daydreaming again.

“Umm, are you sure?” You ask, wondering if you should pinch yourself to see if you are indeed imagining things. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m wearing two different shoes and my sweater is inside out. Believe me when I say these sorts of fashion statements happen more often than not. Plus, I practically salivated over you like some sort of horny middle aged suburban housewife who hasn’t been laid in years.” You pause to take a breath, once again unable to stop the words from spewing forth like a fountain. “And I’m so awkward! I mean, are you comfortable in this conversation? And I can’t stop talking once I’ve gotten going, and I say the weirdest shit, and, and-”

“I like you,” he says simply, as if he’s just declared something as obvious as 1+1=2. “I couldn’t give a flying fuck about all the stuff you just said, you’re just... you, and I like it. So, do you want to go on a date or not?”

“O-oh,” you suddenly feel shy, your tummy filling with butterflies at the look of sincerity on his handsome face. You’d never met anyone quite like Levi Ackerman before, and you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to get to know the man behind the drool-worthy muscles.  “Uh, yes, please, I would like that. Very much.”

An almost relieved expression crosses Levi’s face, and he hands you his phone to type in your number. You notice the time as you do so, and sigh sadly as you hand him his device back.

“Well I better go,” you say reluctantly, suddenly fervently wishing it was Saturday already. “I’ve got another class in 15 minutes.”

“I’ll walk you there,” Levi says briskly, slipping his phone back into his coat. “To make sure you get there safely. Someone might murder you on account of their eyes being assaulted by that garish sweater. ” The corners of his lips twitch upwards once again, and you grow warm all over, from both his gentle teasing and the knowledge he isn’t quite ready to say goodbye yet either.

“Excuse me, I thought you said you didn’t give a ‘flying fuck’ about my attire,” you huff, but you’re grinning as you quickly pack up your bag.

“I don’t care it’s inside out, but you have to know that is the ugliest fucking color know to man,” Levi says, holding out his hand. Your brain malfunctions slightly for a moment, until you realize he’s offering to carry your bag for you. The butterflies inside you whip themselves into a frenzy as you pass him your stuff, your hand just grazing over his. Handsome, funny, honest, and sweet? How is this guy even real?

“I’ll have you know, this sweater is an absolute delight. When it’s inside right,” you stick up your nose, but unable to stop he laugh that slips past your lips.

Levi rolls his eyes in an almost playful manner. “Doubtful .”

You’re not sure where it comes from, but a sudden rush of confidence fills you. “If you’re so offended by it, maybe you should just rip it off of me.”

The tips of Levi’s ears turn a delightful shade of pink. You’re sure your own skin is hot enough to cook an egg on.

“Wear it Saturday then,” Levi’s ears may be flushed, but his eyes flash with something that makes your spine tingle. The insinuation of his words has your gut clenching and your mind whispering fervent prayers to please please please make Saturday get here faster, I don’t ask for much, please!

“Only if you wear your modeling outfit,” you manage to say, trying your best to sound coy when you feel like you might combust into a pile of lust and giddiness. “I’ve never seen someone wear it so well, and I want a closer look.”

If possible, Levi’s eyes grow even darker, and you just know Saturday is going to be one of the best damn days of your entire life.

“Deal.”

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Taglist: @clovertitan @millenialfanfictionaddiction @stigandr-the-cat @axoxtxhxh @bowandcurtsey​ @chaotic-nick​ @manjiroarchiviste​

[bluejayblueskies]

Could you do 11 for the kiss prompt and make it jmart,,

11 - “I almost lost you” kiss

takes place post-mag 200, somewhere else. loosely inspired by this art

ao3 link in source!

cw for blood, mentions of death and knife violence, mild body horror

.

The first thing Martin notices when he opens his eyes is that it’s bright. He squints and squeezes his eyes shut again, blocking out the yellow-white sunlight and letting out a small groan as his head throbs with the beginning of a headache.

Sunlight.

Martin’s breath hitches in his throat. He opens his eyes again, barely more than a sliver so as not to blind himself but enough to see the sky, endlessly blue and stretching above him for miles. A small laugh bubbles up from within him; once it’s out, another follows until he’s giggling, breathing in air that smells clean and fresh like warm summer mornings and letting the sunlight kiss his skin, warming him from the outside in.

The second thing he notices is that he’s alone.

A jolt of fear rushes through him and he sits up so suddenly that his head spins. Before him is nothing but green grass and pink and yellow flowers, spreading over the gently swelling hills and brushing up against the horizon. Beside him is nothing but a knife, sticky and red, half-buried in the foliage.

He’s alone.

“Jon?” he says, the word hoarse and quiet as he shakes off the last vestiges of sleep. His heart is in his throat. “Jon?” he calls, louder, again and again until he’s shouting. At some point he stands, leaving the knife on the ground beside him and ignoring the way that his hand and arm and chest are painted crimson, and starts wading his way through the meadow, scanning every inch of flower-covered earth for a flash of brown, a shape in the grass, anything to indicate that he didn’t end up here alone.

I can’t be alone. It was supposed to be together, one way or another—I can’t be alone.

After a few minutes, Martin stops walking, feeling something icy cold leak into the cavity of his chest. “Jon,” he says, the word scooped-out and hollow. “Please, Jon, I- I need you.” He lifts a hand to run it through his hair, sees a flash of rusty red, and flinches. A bit frantically, he scrubs his hand against the thigh of his trousers, rubbing away as much of the red as he can. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he lifts his clean hand and scrubs it across his face; it comes away wet.

He’s dead, Martin thinks with an aching, tearing feeling in his chest. I- I killed him.

Something within Martin cracks and then he’s crying, ugly, hiccupping sobs that overtake him and steal all of the breath from his lungs. He presses the heels of his hands into his eyes and hears the awful keening noises coming out of his mouth and thinks, I killed him, I killed him, I killed him.

I’m sorry, Martin, the Jon in his mind says calmly, looking at Martin with eyes that crackle gold. Oh, Martin, he says, a hand going to Martin’s cheek as Martin feels horror grip him tightly and begin to tear him apart. I’m still me, Martin, he says, even as golden eyes begin to blink open on the side of his neck and atop his hands and across his cheeks. It’s fine, Martin, he says, hands going to his pocket for a lighter that isn’t there. Martin, get out of here! as the building begins to crumble. Martin, please! as he begins to fragment, skin cracking and golden light seeping out along the fissures. Martin, Martin, Martin.

“Martin!”

Martin draws in a shocked, shuddering breath and lowers his hands.

And then Jon’s in front of him and crashing into him and wrapping his arms around him, clinging to Martin tightly and fiercely like he’ll float away if he lets go. Jon’s hair tickles Martin’s chin as he presses his face into the crook of Martin’s neck and his hands are tangled in the ragged knit of Martin’s jumper and Martin can ever-so-faintly feel the hummingbird-fast thrumming of Jon’s heart against his chest, and that’s what breaks him in the end. A sharp, crackling sob rips its way out of Martin’s throat and he wiggles his arms free from Jon’s so he can hug him in return, feeling the bumpy knobs of Jon’s spine against his palms and the uneven press of Jon’s ribs against his stomach and Jon’s heartbeat, quick but steady and alive.

“Jon,” Martin says breathlessly, burying his nose in Jon’s hair and squeezing him tighter than what must be comfortable, his chest heaving with relieved sobs. “You… you’re alive.”

“I’m alive,” Jon echoes quietly, his hands uncurling from Martin’s jumper and beginning to rub soothing circles across Martin’s shoulder blades. “I’m okay, Martin. I’m okay.”

Nothing’s okay is Martin’s first instinct, born of nearly four years of one terrible event after another. But he can still feel the gentle presence of sunlight against the back of his neck and the air smells of flowers and grass tickles his ankles and Jon’s heart is beating and they’re alive. They’re both alive, and Martin pushes all other thoughts to the side—where they are, what happened to everyone else, how Jon is alive and uninjured and well—and focuses on Jon’s breath against the side of his neck and the relief that’s consuming him whole.

After what might be minutes or what might be hours, Martin pulls back just enough to see Jon’s face. It’s smudged with dust and dirt, peppered with familiar circular scars, and his eyes when they meet Martin’s are a warm hazel. It’s enough to pull another short, sharp sob out of Martin’s throat. “I thought- I thought you were gone,” Martin hiccups, bringing a hand to Jon’s face and resting his palm against Jon’s cheek, partly to reassure himself that this is real and partly so he can feel the way that Jon leans into his touch, mouth curling into a smile that’s sad around the edges as he lets out a small, contented sigh.

“I’m here,” Jon says, pressing his hands firmly against Martin’s back as if to accentuate his point. “I… I’m sorry for worrying you.”

Martin can’t help it—he laughs at that, something raw and a bit unstable. “Yeah,” he says, voice pitched slightly higher than normal. “I… yeah.” He holds in another giggle, rubs his thumb over the top of Jon’s cheekbone, and says softly, “I- I almost lost you, Jon. I- I don’t know what I would have—”

He cuts off with a broken noise, and Jon says quickly, “It’s okay, Martin. It- it’s okay. I’m here, I promise. I… I’m here. You haven’t lost me.” Jon hesitates, then turns his head and presses a soft kiss to the center of Martin’s palm. “You haven’t lost me,” he repeats, barely more than a whisper.

“Okay,” Martin says just as softly before leaning down and kissing him.

Jon exhales against Martin’s mouth and wraps his arms tighter around Martin, bringing them closer until they're pressed together fully, joined at the mouth and the chest and the hip. Jon tilts his head, parts his lips slightly, and Martin deeps the kiss without hesitation, trying to memorize the feel of Jon’s mouth against his as he kisses him until he’s breathless, until he’s forgotten where he ends and Jon begins.

“I love you,” Jon whispers, pulling back and resting his forehead against Martin’s. He presses a chaste kiss to the corner of Martin’s mouth, then another on his lips. “I- I’m sorry, Martin. I didn’t—”

“Hey, hey,” Martin says quickly, pulling back and tilting Jon’s head up with his hand until he can meet Jon’s eyes. “It’s…” It’s okay, he wants to say, but he doesn’t know if that’s true. “We can talk about it later, okay?” he says instead, offering Jon a small, weak smile.

“Okay,” Jon echoes, giving Martin a quiet smile of his own. He withdraws one of his hands from Martin’s back and lifts it to cover the hand Martin has on his cheek, pressing down gently. “Later.”

Martin presses one more kiss to Jon's lips and then moves away, shifting the position of their hands until his fingers are tangled with Jon’s. “Come on, then. I suppose we should figure out where we are.”

“I suppose so.” Jon lets out a small, breathy laugh and squeezes Martin’s hand tightly. “Well, then. Lead the way.”

[highflyerwings]

I debated even making this post. Because the person who sent me this message (just part of a longer discussion) is a mutual and I didn't feel like even addressing it indirectly, let alone carry on a further discussion past how I replied in private (which they still have not responded to).

But it's been eating at me for days. I'm frustrated, and kind of angry to be honest.

This is in response to me admitting I shipped problematic relationships (and brothers specifically in this instance, though the proceeding post is not solely in regards to incestuous ships but any type ship that's deemed "problematic").

I knew they were uncomfortable with that kind of ship. We've gotten into discussions about power dynamics before and how they aren't okay with shipping certain things, and I've seen their reaction to certain things publicly, so I didn't want to go into detail because I knew they didn't want to hear it. And I'm fine with that. But I didn't shy away from the admission either. I was just being honest.

I'm completely fine with them not shipping something that makes them uncomfortable. That's the whole "ship and let ship" philosophy. Some things upset people and that's okay. But their reasoning behind how they justify what's okay and what's not is absolutely bonkers to me. I'm sorry, but this is bullshit.

"I love reading stories about fucked up relationships...only when I can tell the writer isn't getting off on it or trying to convince me that it's normal."

Okay? and HOW DO YOU KNOW THE WRITER'S INTENT. How can you possibly know that this writer isn't getting off to this fucked up ship or scenario. How can you know, just by reading their story, that they aren't trying to convince you this relationship is okay.

You can't know. It's as simple as that. You cannot possibly know.

If even the mere idea that someone might be getting off to this weird thing you don't like upsets you, then I suggest you don't even try engaging with this type of "fucked up" content.

How exhausting is it to sit there and dissect every sentence to try and decide whether this writer is sending you a subliminal message that "it's okay to fuck your brother." How exhausting is it to view entirely fictional content with that kind of lens. How exhausting is it to think that everyone reading or watching this fictional content needs to be "educated" on an aspect of this problematic power dynamic, and to think that YOU are the person to educate them. What kind of condescending mindset is this. This is insulting. I'm insulted.

Obviously there is intent behind any type of art. Obviously there are content creators out there who are trying to influence the reader or viewer of a certain philosophy. But I can assure you, 100%, that those types of creators are not out there writing brotherfucking fic or drawing incestuous fanart of fictional characters.

"As long as I can tell you aren't like that I don't care that you write stuff about an incestuous relationship..."

When it comes to fiction, and fictional characters who are not real, and therefor cannot be hurt or taken advantage of, holding someone else's kink against them in this way is like telling a grown adult with a rape fantasy that they're wrong for wanting to consensually act that out in the bedroom alone with their equally grown adult partner. You have no right. If someone is getting off to something you deem "fucked up," and that upsets you, then your one option is to stop talking to them, or block them completely. You have no right to then try to "educate" them on the subject matter.

Policing fan content, or people's reaction to fan content, is coming at this issue you're trying so hard to solve completely ass backwards.

At the end of the day, it's up to the person consuming the content to police themselves. If you find at some point that you're not comfortable with a certain topic (even if you were okay with it at one point), then that's a you problem. That is entirely on you to correct, and avoid, and fix within yourself. It is absolutely not your place to try and control what others create or consume.

This is fiction.

This isn't real.

Just because fiction affects your reality, doesn't mean it affects everyone else's. Worry about yourself, and the content you consume before you start trying to judge anyone else.

[helnjk]

All I’ve Ever Known - G.W.

George Weasley x fem!reader

last of my oneshots for my showtunes fic list, based on the song All I’ve Ever Known from the musical Hadestown! i’ve had so much fun with this series of fics, i hope you guys have enjoyed reading them xx 

Word Count: 2.8k 

Summary: george finds her extremely intriguing, the way she spends her days drawing and creating art. maybe one day he’ll pluck up the courage to talk to her. 

Warnings: mentions of food, mentions of bullying/exclusivity, stereotypical slytherin biases

lyrics are bold and italicized 

–

I was alone so long 

I didn’t even know that I was lonely

Y/N sat by herself at the end of the Slytherin table, pushing what was left of her meal around her plate. She could hear the different conversations flowing around her, the ones including her fellow housemates moreso, but as usual she wasn’t involved in any of them.

She could hear Malfoy sneering to his little crew about something or other that Potter did to irritate him that day. She could hear Adrian Pucey discussing the latest Quidditch plays they had used at training that day. She could hear a couple of first years anxiously discussing the topic of their exams the next day. 

All around her were signs of companionship and community, yet she was left utterly alone. She wasn’t stupid. She knew why she had been outcasted from her house the moment she got sorted. 

“Isn’t she muggleborn?” 

“What a disgrace to Slytherin.”

“The Sorting Hat’s made a mistake with that one.” 

Over the years, she had gotten used to how those in her house treated her–holding her at arm’s length. She had spent many nights in her first year crying herself to sleep because of how all-consuming the loneliness had been, but now at her seventh year, she was numb to it all. 

She knew who she was: A talented muggleborn witch and a proud Slytherin. She didn’t need validation from anyone else. And anyways, most of her time was spent out on the grounds with her sketchpad or in the Room of Requirement painting. 

Loud laughs from the Gryffindor table spurred her out of her thoughts. The Weasley twins had pranked their younger brother, and it seemed like their younger sister was an accomplice to the crime as well. The rest of the red and gold house was watching on amusedly, no doubt accustomed to similar situations. 

The Weasleys were a well known family at Hogwarts. How could they not be? With their fiery red hair and their big personalities, it was a given that they caught the attention of almost every student. 

Y/N admired how they just fit right in with their house, their second family. Of course, a lot of it had to do with the fact that they were so comfortable with the Hat’s placement. Their whole family was sorted into Gryffindor, she could remember, albeit slightly foggily, the older Weasley siblings in leadership roles when she was younger. 

Her eyes lingered on George’s laughing figure for a second longer than the rest of them. She was always intrigued by the younger twin. They seldom had classes together, but from what she could gather, he was just as observant and perceptive as he was mischievous and quick witted.  

As bodies began to take their leave from the Great Hall, a rough shove to the shoulder nearly made Y/N fall onto the floor. Her eyes snapped up to the offender and she saw the unbecoming sneer of Malfoy. Crabbe and Goyle were snickering not so quietly behind him as he stared down at her. 

“Whoops,” he jeered, “Sorry to disrupt your staring at the blood traitors and gryffindorks. Maybe you’d be better off with the lot of them.” 

With a huff, Y/N gathered her things and strode out of the hall without so much as a second look behind her.  

It's like I’d known you all along

I knew you before we met

And I don’t even know you yet

All I know is you're someone I have always known

She was drawing again, George noted.

It always baffled him how she was always alone. Usually students at Hogwarts drifted about their days in groups or pairs; it was rare to see someone spend most of their time by themselves. Growing up with 6 siblings, and having a twin, George was so used to the chaos and noise that came with it that he couldn’t picture what it was like to go about your day solo.  

His eyes drifted towards her figure sitting on a blanket out in the grounds. She was blissfully unaware of her surroundings, or more to the point, the person staring at her like a bloody idiot. The weather was slowly transitioning from autumn into winter, and he could tell that she was trying to milk the last few warm days. 

It was no secret to him that she preferred to sketch out in the sunny grounds, but Hogwarts being situated in the Scottish countryside made it so that her window of opportunity to do so was limited.

He was so focused on how her brows furrowed in concentration and how her lips pursed ever so slightly when she made a mistake, that he didn’t notice Fred’s many deep sighs. This caused his twin to take one final deep breath and exhale as loudly as possible. 

“What’s got your wand in a knot then?” George asked, taking his eyes off of Y/N and turning to face his brother. 

“Finally noticed that I exist, have you?” teased Fred. 

“Oi, just get on with whatever you want to say!” 

He merely laughed, “If you want to talk to the snake, just do it!” 

George had the audacity to act as if he didn’t know what Fred meant, “What in Merlin’s name are you on about?” 

“Don’t be daft,” Fred smacked him lightly on the back of the head, “You’ve been pining after that Slytherin bird for months, just go and talk to her already!”

“Was I that obvious?” 

With a frustrated groan, Fred shoved his twin in the direction of the girl. George stumbled for a second and checked to see if she had seen, she hadn’t. He sent a glare at the redhead over his shoulder, before dusting off his trousers and donning a confident facade. 

As he strode across the courtyard, his hands grew increasingly clammy and his heart began to beat erratically in his chest. There was no turning back now, though, as he approached the girl. 

His shadow blocked the sun from Y/N’s notebook and she looked up, not expecting anyone to get so close to her. 

“Erm, hello,” George waved awkwardly as he towered over her figure.

She blinked a few times before replying, “Hello. Can I help you with something?” 

“Mind if I join you?” 

George’s question rang through the still air for a moment as Y/N processed what he had just asked. No one had ever wanted to keep her company as she drew before, she wasn’t quite sure how to react. Just before the moment turned even more awkward than it already was, she gave him a swift nod. 

The tall, lanky redhead folded his legs beneath him as he made himself comfortable on the path of grass next to her. He had to stop himself from grinning too wide, “I’ve seen you around, you know.” 

She merely raised a confused eyebrow in his direction. 

“Not-not like I’ve been stalking you!” he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck and feeling his ears turn hot, “I’ve just noticed you like to draw out here, especially when the weather’s warm.” 

“Oh,” she mumbled, brushing her hair behind her ear. 

“I’m sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?” 

George’s gaze on hers was so sincere, she kicked herself internally for not saying the right thing to him, “No you’re not! Don’t worry. I’m just not used to people paying much attention to what I do. I mean, I’m not that interesting.” 

She felt small under his analytic gaze, but something in her kept her from looking away. 

“Well I think you’re plenty interesting from what I’ve seen,” He shrugged nonchalantly, “Tell me about your drawings!” 

He had said the magic words and the pair of them dove into a conversation. Y/N couldn’t contain her excitement, as she rarely had the opportunity to speak about something she was so passionate about. 

“These look bloody brilliant,” George murmured in awe as he flipped through the pages of her notebook.  

Y/N’s face warmed at the compliment, “Thanks.” 

All I’ve ever known is how to hold my own 

But now I wanna hold you too

For nearly every day after their first encounter, George made it a point to talk to Y/N. Whether it be along the hallways on the way to class, during meals (he would take her hand and drag her to the Gryffindor tables, much to her bemusement), or out on the grounds while she drew. 

Most of the time, he would talk and talk and talk as she listened quietly. A soft smile would always grace her lips as she observed him and how he spoke so highly of his family and how he was so excited for the shop he would be opening with his brother. The tone of his voice and his large grins always made her feel included in whatever it was that he talked about.

“Hello love,” George smiled down at her before plopping down on the soft grass to her right, “Reckon we’re on the last few days of good weather.”

His eyes raised skywards as the overcast clouds floated above them, hers did the same. 

“It’s alright,” she shrugged, sending him a small smile, “We’ve made the most of it, I think.”  

The pair sat in relative silence, as silent as it could be with one of the Weasley twins, as Y/N built up the courage to show George what she had made for him. With a deep breath, she plucked something from her school bag that lay strewn across the grass and held the parchment to her chest.

“George?” 

“Yeah, Y/N?” his eyes trained on her nervous figure and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “Everything alright?” 

She nodded her head swiftly, “Yeah everything’s perfect! I just wanted to show you something that I made.” 

Slowly, she smoothed out the parchment in front of them. She observed George quietly as he took in the sketch she had made. His eyes scanned it over once, twice, three times before they met hers again. 

“Is this…” He mumbled, taking the sketch into his hands to look closer.

“You’ve just been so excited about your joke shop that I–I made a logo for you guys,” she smiled sheepishly, “It’s pretty bare bones, but I wanted you to see it. I won’t take offence if you don’t like it!” 

George stared at her, mouth slightly agape. This was one of the sweetest things anyone had ever done for him, and she did it out of the kindness of her heart. Without a second thought, he threw his arms around her and quickly pulled her to his chest. Y/N let out a little ‘oof’ as she collided with him, heat spreading throughout her body. She was thankful that she was basically smushed on his chest, at least then he couldn’t tell how flustered she got at his display of affection. 

“So d’you like it?” she asked shyly, looking up at him. 

“I bloody love it!” 

Y/N let out a breath that she didn’t know she was holding, the pair of them grinning at each other. 

Later in the day, George all but dragged Y/N into the Gryffindor common room in search of Fred. His brother was sat on one of the couches by the fireplace, chatting idly with Lee. The sound of parchment hitting him square in the chest rang through the relatively empty room. 

Fred’s hands immediately held onto whatever George had placed on him, and his eyes lit with joy as he realized what he was looking at. 

“Bloody hell!” he exclaimed, “Is this what I think it is?” 

George took a seat next to his brother, his hand tugging Y/N along to take the seat beside him, “Yep. Our Y/N here has made us a logo for Wheezes.” 

“This is brilliant, Y/N! Thank you!” 

For the second time that day, she found herself wrapped up in the arms of a Weasley twin. Slightly used to it, she just laughed the show of affection off and patted Fred slightly on the back. 

“Happy to help,” she smiled. 

–

As the seasons turned from autumn to winter, Y/N found herself spending more and more time with the red headed twins. She found their enthusiasm for their joke shop infectious, always chipping in with ideas of her own for products, or sketching up prototypes for them to look at. 

Slowly, her days were filled with laughter and warmth. 

It was a little jarring at first, spending so much time with people who actually cared about her, people who wanted to hear what she said and see what she created. It surprised her, really, how quickly she had become accustomed to being around them. 

After a while, though, she found herself wanting to spend as much time as possible with George. She lived for the routine that they had formed, spending most of their breaks and meals together. 

It struck her on a seemingly ordinary day, the realization that she was falling for him. 

Y/N and George were at a far corner in the library, discussing how the product designs she made could be tweaked a little. He was hunched over the parchment, tracing his fingers over the soft lines of charcoal on the parchment, smudging it just a tad bit and getting some of the pigment on him.

“I love the way you drew…” 

George had said something or other about the design, but Y/N couldn’t focus on anything except the way his arm flexed as he spoke. From the corner of her eye, she kept glancing at him, noticing how the glow of candlelight cast soft shadows on his face. The freckles on his cheeks seemed to dance in the flickering light, and looking at the constellations on his face made her breath hitch in her throat. 

She couldn’t quite place why her heart was raging in her chest, as if she hadn’t spent most of her days with the red headed boy anyway. 

And then it hit her. 

Her eyebrows shot up at the sudden awareness of her feelings for George. Oh sweet Merlin and Morgana, she thought. 

You take me in your arms

And suddenly there’s sunlight all around me

“George!” 

Y/N’s voice rang through the relatively empty hallway as she raced to meet her friend. The friend that she might have been in love with. The friend that she spent hours and hours of her day with, trying to ignore the bubble of feelings that wanted so badly to burst in her chest. 

The redhead who was on his way back up to his common room paused mid-step as he heard her voice. He spun on his heel, turning just in time for him to see her barreling towards him, waving a piece of parchment above her head. 

When she nearly collided head on with him, he instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist and steadied her, “Woah there, Y/N. There’s no need to try and kill me.”

She huffed, catching her breath slightly, “Sorry, I’m just so excited!” 

“Are you going to tell me what you’re excited about, or?” he teased, cocking his head to the side. 

With a grin on her face, she shoved the piece of parchment she was holding into George’s hands, “I just figured out how the general design of the Wonder Witch products should look like! See here there’s a–”

“Godric I love you.”

Both bodies froze at the statement. George immediately felt his whole body get hot, no doubt tinging his cheeks and the tips of his ears red. Y/N’s mouth was slightly agape, her mind whirring with all kinds of thoughts as she tried to comprehend what had just come out of George’s mouth. 

“What?” she asked, unable to form a proper sentence. 

George took a deep breath, there was no going back now, “Erm, yeah. I fancy the hell out of you, Y/N. That wasn’t the way I would’ve preferred to tell you but, I do–I do love you, yeah.” 

“Oh, Georgie,” Y/N whispered. 

Taking her answer as a rejection, he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, “It’s alright that you don’t feel the same way, I don’t want this to ruin–”

Instead of replying, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him in a hug, “I love you too, you silly boy.” 

The nerves got the better of her, and her words were slightly muffled as she whispered them into his chest. 

“Come again?” 

“I love you too, George!” 

A wide grin spread across his face as he looked at the girl in his arms. He felt like he could fly with how happy he was. Everything he needed was right in front of him, and he would hold her close for as long as he could. 

–

General taglist: @expectoevans​ @george-fabian-weasley​ @gxthsanrio​ @slytherinscribbles​ @harpyloon​ @nuttytani​ @mesmerisedangel​ @amourtentiaa​ @hufflepuff5972

Weasley twins taglist: @whizboingies​ @pineapplesandpinas​ @papapapadumb​ @mrs-g-weasley​ @a-castle-of--glass​ @hey-there-angels​