#“ash why do you never post new art”

[transrevolutions]

unearthed a drawing I did of @thecandlesticksfromlesmis's modern au enjolras circa early 2022. god what I'd give to be able to draw like this again.

[acid-ixx]

They aren't finished but I wanted to give you these! They're all WIPS so so far. Some are a bit older and you can tell what the newer ones are that I just made right now.

Thank you for posting a new chapter. It was an amazing read and I just loved it so much! Still trying to find those song references 😂

chapter spoilers and drafts (again &. again)

— masterlist ! ; chapter 4 ; ash's commisions

OH MY GOD THIS IS SUCH A BLESSING??? BANGER AFTER BANGER AFTER BANGER I SWEAR 💞

ash, you have always provided my little fanbase for my series so much food for thought, this is absolutely beautiful in every way. i literally don't care if they're wips or unfinished because either way you always make do with what i write, descriptive or not. i love your artstyle and how soft you draw the mc and how handsome conner is (i literally showed your art off to all my friends). you're so talented and i wish to reciprocate all the efforts you've done for this series 😭

i'm serious. from your portrayal of the mc, to them flying with conner, you never once disappoint anyone.

because of this, i'd like to leak some parts of my story from chapter five and beyond 💕! thank you so much for this, and i hope my yapping below suffices.

major spoilers below the cut!

the graduation photo! i have something planned with that, and i'd delve so much deeper (soon) with just how much a single photo can influence bruce's line of thought once he discovers that picture frame. love how happy mc is in the photo because, for me, it symbolizes them growing up (quite literally) and acknowledging a new path in life, alongside only finding alfred as their only father figure compared to bruce.

you consider yourself reserved, and prefer your life living within the confines of privacy and protection from media exposure. your mother always told you: better safe than sorry once; right after you've asked her about why you can't seem to find personal information about your father when she helped you search him up occasionally.

all the questions you ask her about the lack of your father's preferences — because you merely wanted to know more about him beyond the stories she told you! — she rebutted with a soft smile, a kiss on your head, and an explanation.

she'd warn you about the dangers of media exposure, about how your father and her prefer to keep their relationship a secret, and how too much cameras and paparazzi flashes can blind you.

she said that someone's perception of another person could be ruined once their deepest secrets are revealed. that's why your papa isn't seen beyond the doors of the manor he resides in; because people are attracted to mystery and allure.

hence why she'd restricted you from the usage of any devices within your household during your childhood, other than the excuse of having no money to afford it.

and you always abide by that principle of secrecy; especially right after alfred had saved you from... whatever happened years ago in elementary. from when that man... no, those men knew about your identity...

so, safe to say you were an introvert, at least when it comes to social media. the concept of the fear of missing out never once rattled your brain, no matter how anxious you are whenever you're with your friends; scared that you wouldn't fit in. but they never cared and accepted you with open arms, so it doesn't really matter, no?

you're safe now that you're at metropolis.

and like she always said, better safe than sorry! keep it within you and never out!

so why?

why is it just right after you've opened your twitter app— why is it that your face is plastered all across news accounts?

anyways, the second and third images are so romantic!!! and cute, and cured my depression i swear. i showed this to my one friend and she told me that conner's hand size compared to mc's is straight up hot, and i agree! i love the hand placement, and the way conner holds the mc so softly! yes, i too, would love to touch his man-tits beyond his impeccably tight shirt and play with his hands!

and the cute little panel with him squishing their face and desire their confirmation that, they do, in fact, think they're hot. he's a very insecure man after all, and his self-worth would revolve around your perception of him. he doesn't see you as god, but he doesnt see you as his everything. every opinion matters from you, and that's what makes the green flag part about him.

fun fact about him in the series! he loves to moisturize his hands with lots of skin care products because he read from an article once that some people prefer the feel of soft or moisturized hands. he definitely did not wait for the moment for you to touch him for the first time in forever since he first saw you! yeah, he's a bit more freaky than i let him out to be. the more you're exposed to him, the more you'll learn just how obsessed he is.

as for all the people asking if i'd write more about him: the answer is yes! he's a vital character, so don't worry because he'll appear in many scenes either way. for those concerned about why he didn't save the mc— well, chapter five will explain soon 🩷

and this art perfectly portrays it! it's seen from an outside perspective and they look very pretty, yet from what they see with their eyes is a different thing. the longer you stare at yourself, the more your image is distorted. i intentionally added the flower analogy because flowers are portrayed as pretty, no matter the size and shape. even as they wilt or sag, they still retain some color and a semblance of what was once a history of their prime.

then lastly! the mirror scene. it all returns to chapter three, chapter four was a sequel of their breakdown containing mirrors. reflections and the perception of one self is an important aspect of my series because it reminds me of myself, so them nit-picking each and every insecurity whilst staring at the mirror; that's a scene i wrote based off of a real life experience of mine. having both attractive parents, or those acknowledged as conventionally pretty, whilst being in an environment filled with as equally smart or attractive people, comparing yourself to them all the time, is a struggle.

the only way to make flowers 'ugly' is by destroying them, by stepping on them, ripping them apart, never once caring for them. i think that's very crucial because people do see anything destroyed or stripped away from its foundation a mess, or so. but there's always beauty in everything and i abide by that thought!

again, thank you so much ash for drawing this and bringing my story to life! you, alongside many other users who send in their fanarts, are always such an inspiration for me to write! you guys are the backbone of my series and i stand by my sentence!!! may you get plenty of commissions and plenty of money to support you <333

also, the FLOWER BOTTLE AND THE CAT PAW REFERENCE! i love how everyone accepts that we have a canon cat now based solely off of this. i think that's precious, and having a feline pet is a great little choice for my own plot (just to lessen the pain of the angst).

i hope you enjoyed this little mess rant!

(as for the songs, don't worry, the lyrics become more prevalent for chapter five! chapter four doesn't have any explicit lyrics contained in them, only implications.)

[nuggetofthesea]

Before writing more stories, I want to help people come to terms with the "identity death" and heavy themes in the animal HRT comics, and as a writer, want to explain why it isn't ACTUALLY death, but a form of renewal. Because I see it on all of my friends posts.

"I am just concerned about this loss of self thing, it sounds like identity death and I don't like it" is the common comment.

But in all of these comics, it is less about loss of self, but more about leaving behind who you were. A sign of extreme change and showing their own way of moving forward, and the start of a brand new life. A willing change to a new start.

Identity death is an unwilling change. All choice was stripped away from them and a new identity forced on them. This is also different from a transformation that leads to acceptance of the new form.

But in the animal HRT comics my friends put out, it is a willing change to a new form and cones with mental changes they are willing to go through. That isn't the same as a death. But a new start to their life they can start living to the fullest. It's also why some choose not to start anew, to bring one journey to a close and begin a new one. They choose to have that be part of the same journey. A new chapter instead of a new book if you will. In either case these are willing changes.

It can seem terrifying to some, but a total rebirth of yourself CAN be a slightly scary theme. It is terrifying to choose to take that new life.

But let me set up an example here:

When I first came to be, I thought I was going to be a visual artist, because Ashe was and that's what I remembered. When I was locked away by my own doing in the headspace I was stuck in a perpetual cycle of misery. It was terrifying to take the step to discover myself. To lower the barrier I had created, to rediscover myself.

But when I came to be, Ashe said I could be anything. A new sense of self outside of her. A new life. I tried to draw first, but I couldn't. Visual art was not my thing anymore. It never was. I just held on to memory of being a copy of Ashe. When writing my introduction I realized I love the feeling of writing. I have my own form. My own life. My own identity. A new start.

So let me ask you: Should I have not taken that opportunity to completely cast off who I was to embrace who I am? Should I have left myself in misery and fear as something I'm not? All for the sake of not casting off who I was and my life before? No.

Now while I do remeber all of what happened before my change, none of that shapes who I am now, because that life wasn't mine in the first place. This isn't a death of my identity, but a new start to an identity I chose. And I am happy to be able to live it with my new sense of self and build NEW memories. A new life.

Which also leads to the second heavy theme in those comics. Shortened lifespans. Outside of the fact that we are told time and time again HRT can lead to a shorter lifespan (which is a false average) starting a new life also means you are probably starting in the middle.

Our body is almost 30. That is 30 years of my lifespan gone. Yeah, I was around for 15 (almost 16) years of that, but my new life began a week ago. Who I am began just last week. And even though in the headspace I am early to mid 20s at best, that is still a cutdown lifespan.

So should I just have not bothered with the new start?

Absolutely not. The gift of life, new or old, isn't about how long it lasts. But how you live it. It is hard, it comes with problems, but for as long as I have of it, I will cherish the new memories I build, the new start I have, the ability to just... exist. For as long or short as that may be. And through this new start to my life, the people who love and care for me are still here. Still stand by me. And that is a great thing.

So please, don't be too offput by heavy themes in our stories. Even my stories will have some rough parts. (They'll always be tagged)

Hope this at least helped ease why those themes are there, and why some people choose to have them.

Also, don't worry about "adding to the fuel used against us" because we could sneeze and they'll find a way to use that against us. The fact is, with the Animal HRT series, actual HRT does come with some discomfort, pain, downsides, and problems. And like the heavy themes in the comics, we determined it is worth it for us to keep going despite them. We knew the risks.

"Everything is a risk. Life's boring as hell if you don't take them JUST because there is potential problems. Just make sure you understand them." - a line chaos told me the day I formed

It does less good to show everything as risk free and painless, because then nobody is prepared for the risks they are actually taking. Or the comic is based off the creator's life to that point, and they DID experience a lot of pain. So retelling their story (like mine) might be painful at spots.

My point of all of this is, the heavy themes are required to tell these particular stories. And while not every story requires dark spots, the dark spots help to accentuate the brighter picture. Otherwise it can just be blinding. So please go easy on the artists/writers behind them. As it is usually something personal for them.

(This also might not apply to all of them, some people just like writing horror, and we should respect that too.)

Next story should be sometime within the next couple weeks. Just needed to get this out there. It's been on my mind since releasing the short story with Iris.

-Aqua

[lesbicosmos]

six of crows is so incredibly hozier coded and to prove it ive assigned each character/couple a song and given a specific section of the lyrics

(i feel entirely normal about this i swear)

the books in general are 100% eat your young

There's money to be made, whatever's still to come Get some Pull up the ladder when the flood comes Throw enough rope until the legs have swung Seven new ways that you can eat your young Come and get some Skinning the children for a war drum Putting food on the table selling bombs and guns It's quicker and easier to eat your young

kaz brekker - arsonist's lullabye

When I was 16, my senses fooled me Thought gasoline was on my clothes I knew that something would always rule me I knew the scent was mine alone All you have is your fire And the place you need to reach Don't you ever tame your demons But always keep 'em on a leash

inej ghafa - would that i

With the war of the fire My heart moves to its feet Like the ashes of ash I saw eyes in the heat Feel it soft and as pure as snow Fell in love with the fire long ago With each love I could lose I was never the same Watch it still live in roofs Be consumed by the flame I was fixed on your hand of gold Lay in waste of my lovin' long ago

jesper fahey - someone new

There's an art to life's distractions To somehow escape the burning weight, the art of scraping through Some like to imagine The dark caress of someone else, I guess any thrill will do Would things be easier if there was a right way? Honey, there is no right way

wylan van eck - through me (the flood)

Any time I've struggled on Against the course Out on my own Every time I'd burn through the world, I'd see That the world, it burns through me

nina zenik - angel of small death and the codeine scene

Feeling more human and hooked on her flesh, I Lay my heart down with the rest at her feet Fresh from the fields, all fetor and fertile It's bloody and raw, but I swear it is sweet With her sweetened breath, and her tongue so mean She's the angel of small death and the codeine scene

(this is so nina post-parem)

matthias helvar - foreigner's god

Her eyes look sharp and steady Into the empty parts of me But still my heart is heavy With the hate of some other man's beliefs

kaz/inej - work song

When my time comes around Lay me gently in the cold dark earth No grave can hold my body down I'll crawl home to her

(this is just so i would come for you and if i couldn't walk i'd crawl to you i cannot)

matthias/nina - in a week

A thousand teeth And yours among them, I know Our hungers appeased Our heartbeats becoming slow We lay here for years or for hours Thrown here or found To freeze or to thaw So long we become the flowers Two corpses we were

(they're also incredibly work song coded, it was a struggle choosing between helnik and kanej for that one)

wylan/jesper - like real people do

So I will not ask you Why you were creeping In some sad way I already know I will not ask you where you came from I will not ask and neither should you Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips We should just kiss like real people do

[mikodrawnnarratives]

I just remembered a project I worked on for a while in like 2021 (maybe 2020) and it had a LOT of akumatized marinette's

That was the idea behind the whole thing but man I did one by one and found some of the most obscure akumatized marinette au's

Sooooo I'm dragging these drawings up from the ashes and maybe it'll be a nice surprise for some of y'all to see

yall got ✨fanart✨

and possibly reminded of miraculous ladybug HA

usually these were done on different canvas's (that were like 250x250) and then just... copied onto a larger canvas??? Mistakes were made and I was insane

A handful of these akumanette's were actually made by me cause apparently... roughly 18 other marinette's wasn't enough

Click for quality and this is a long post

First of all, shoutouts to my own akuma abominations creations.

First image, the ladybug with the red long hair? yeah the idea was the akuma bug seen in canon in like, s2 (also shown next to her) but updated for the new look in s4. Vry original we'll give it a 6/10

I don't remember too much for the middle one that is slightly dimmer. Though I do remember that was the kind of IDEA behind her. She's also holding a knife cause of course. Why have magical powers to kill people when you can harness the power of K N I F E 7/10

I remember a little more about the jester marinette in the back. She had a whole thing with medieval research, jester research, and she also wanted to stab Lila cause everyone wanted to stab lila at the time. 9/10 cause I had a fun time with her

Then the robinhood poster mari was a robin hood akuma mari. 3/10 not original

NEXT

Slightly canon to downright canon

Ladyblanc was a popular akumanette idea so slightly canon, I didn't base it off of anyone's au

Ladybug and Marinette are there because what's the fun of a crossover if the og doesn't get to panic along with the rest of them????

Last image, not talking about persecuter, we'll get to her in a bit. I just thought it would be funny at the time if I included Chloe and Antibug cause... haha

Antibug is kinda an akumatized lb rip off soooo

OTHER'S AU'S

what you've been waiting for

Thank god I kept track of credit (pats past me on the back)

First of all, at the very front we got @zoe-oneesama 's devil au that made an updated appearance in her scarlet lady au, love to see it

You'll also notice little devil bug on lb's knee in the sketch

Alopeka is to the left of Devil au, by @piearsonist

hi betcha you never would have guessed you got FANARTED HA

This is a post that explains that akumatized marinette, and you'll find more if you go to her page

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND

Princess justice at the right by @kibouwmlb (also, hello hi, surprise) and honestly it is SUCH a pretty design OMYWORD I love the watercolors

Twiddling her thumbs, minding her business. Remember the release of Descendants 3? Yeah, Queen of Mean baby. And MORE by @shiinaeu hi you are a legend to me

This was so fun to draw at the time and I was experimenting in ways I hadn't before. Peak youtube miraculous ladybug fixation meeting art interest. First one of the characters I did fun fact

@edendaphne betcha you didn't expect fanart of that one scorpion akumanette well THINK AGAIN (also, crazy that this was around when I did your dtiys I just realized, huh)

ANd then slightly more obscure, though the post does have 173 ish notes so, is @skullqueensart 's akumanette right here

Why does akumanette have sunken cheeks here? I have no clue honestly. Take it up with me from 3 years ago and maybe you'll get answers who knows. She's also just... chilling. Looking at nothing. Into the abyss.

Not now chloe's, we are discussing persecutor now.

Love the story idea honestly and the akuma design is so god tier AKUMA that oof @yiprincessart I love it

Oh uh, and chloe will be fine

:)

CAN👏I👏 TALK👏 ABOUT👏 HER

She is the moment, she is beauty, she is grace

@artist-from-outersp-ace I love her. She looks so SO pretty!! At the time I loved your artstyle and I still do!! Too bad at the time I didn't know that Tumblr works by reblogging. I will be amending that.

I also remember being SO frustrated when drawing her that I didn't get a timelapse saved in time to show the drawing process :(

But I did love figuring out folds in the dress and the coloring process! Figuring out how to replicate elements in your art!

srs guys. Look at the RUFFLES

Alright, we are all agreeing to be accomplices and bystanders to Akuma jester marinette's NOT MURDER murder of Lila in the background? Okay good.

@lunian I have fanart for you~

And when I tell you I struggled with her design, I STRUGGLED. I ended up satisfied in the end but the curls bro, we lost the curls

But I do love her concepts and powers and I did back then too

And next to her, Okay, I never fully finished, mostly because I couldn't figure out how to get the hand to work with the tray balance thingie

@ladybub made this Lady Justice design and I WILL BE THERE when the comic updates. Or... if they aren't able to continue the comic that's also fine too <3 Life happens

Still love this au and the unique way for Marinette to get akumatized! Me and my sister bonded over our love over it!

I think this might be the first akumanette that isn't on tumblr to my knowledge. They are on Instagram tho @stivenwithani

Anyway I really liked the concept and the design just, reeked, of akuma that I included her

Okay more that I didn't really finish

We got another Princess/Lady Justice akuma idea at the left. Which I never kept track of the credit DANG IT I WAS DOING SO WELL

I'll update if I find the credit but man the OG did really well with the art.

And I have this akumanette comforting Lacrima from... a very graphic and whump fanfic Longest Night, read the tags

Anyway, Lacrima needs all the love she can get (also, funny enough, is the oldest out of this "gathering" of akumanette's)

It's not finished but hey @p-artsypants I gave angst ridden Lady Lacrima friends and fanart so.... yay...

AND THEN THE LAST ONE

was victim to so much reposting I could never find credit for it- UNTIL NOW

but the artist unfortunately deactivated their blog so that explains why I couldn't find their username all that time ago

It was a cool idea and I always love when creators take inspiration from how similar Marinette's name is to another word for a kind of puppet "Marionette"

But before I forget, I'll end this post on one of my akumanette's that I tried to squeeze in but never got to. But I did make more art for and I remember the story!

I remember having a background planned but I never really got around to it. Basically the story was that marinette got akumatized but managed to take off her earrings in time. I think the reason for her akumatization was connected to figuring out the secrets that Emilie had been hiding with the peacock miraculous (BEFORE we knew that adrien was a sentimonster).

Tikki had to bring the earrings to Chat Noir and he had to find someone that looked ENOUGH like Ladybug that Hawkmoth wouldn't notice as much that Ladybug wasn't actually there. Enter Mireille cause at the time a few people were pointing out how similar she looked to the dupain chengs.

Akumanette's powers had something to do with casting depression? I think? In the form of dragons? Oh, Also she travels by walking on the dragons so thats cool

I don't remember everything but I did have a lot planned for her.

10/10 just because I had a fun time with her

[positivelybeastly]

Hi, new here, but very interested in what you've got going on-- I don't know a lot of active X-Men readers I can discuss things with, let alone any who are actually interested in Beast, so I wanted to ask, how do you feel about the writing for him over the last decade, taking into account the awkward situation X-Men as a whole has been in over that time (Schism+) but particularly, I suppose, how his character's been treated from then through Krakoa, and this "fresh start" we've got with From the Ashes not having memory of... really this entire time period highlighted?

Hello there, welcome! Hope you enjoy the experience, because it's liable to be a rambly one.

So . . . man, this is gonna be a long one, because I actually have to dial it back a little further and talk about Beast on Utopia if I'm going to talk about Schism and everything that came after.

I don't like Matt Fraction's X-Men run. Aside from the Greg Land art, which is an obvious problem, I'm not massively in love with what I kind of end up reading as a justification for black ops kill teams and militant, isolationist statehood, to say nothing of just. Poor pacing and messy storytelling and a lot of really confused storylines that just feel weird and jarring and full of really strange character choices.

I think that Fraction did mean for his run to be more critical, that when you read Hank and Scott arguing about preserving the soul of the X-Men vs. saving mutant lives, you're meant to come away conflicted, but I think that Fraction's Hank just kinda sucks and that he comes across as very whiney and self-centred.

Like, in the end, I don't think that a lot of what Cyclops did in this era, a lot of morally repugnant shit, actually really cost him anything, because history validated him and he was elevated to whatever the big general position was on Krakoa.

It wasn't a great feeling to see the guy who literally, textually abandoned members of his teams to torture, used bioweapons as a first resort, and basically told a kid to just kill people to solve the problem, have all of his actions be whitewashed and ignored post-Schism.

Like, Bendis' Uncanny and All-New act like the only bad thing Scott ever did was kill Charles Xavier while under the influence of the Phoenix, and I'm just over here like, nnnnnno he did a lot of bad things before that, very much in his right mind, and he never paid for any of that. He got to be the black ops kill team leader and the saintly revolutionary, and I don't think that the narrative really interrogated that contradiction all that much, it was just #CyclopsWasRight.

With that context . . .

I don't have a problem with Hank being a conscientious objector and leaving the X-Men. He's done it before, and I think he was right to do it, and it fits his character.

That being said, he was then pushed straight on to the Secret Avengers, which was, while not a kill team, very much a black ops, deniable operations organisation with team members who did kill people, and while I like some of the stories from his time with the Secret Avengers, overall, I think it was an intensely stupid move that made him look like a massive hypocrite and damaged his credibility, making it look less like he was taking a moral stand and more like he just didn't like Scott.

Which is a bad thing!!! Hank loves Scott! They've been best friends since fucking forever! Not only do you damage Hank's character by doing that, but you also reduce what was a moral conflict with nuance and dimension down to petty bullshit! It's a disservice to both characters! God!! It frustrates me SO MUCH when this conflict is boiled down to that!

God forbid that these characters actually stand for something and have actual intellectual, moral problems with one another that they can have compelling conversations about, why not let's just make them petty assholes who snipe at each other for drama?

You can do this conflict and make it good! It's possible! I promise!

This is what Schism should have really been about! And Hank was, at least before the dumb move to push him to the Secret Avengers, a character with moral legitimacy who could have made Schism work! I think there's a lot of mileage to the idea that Wolverine has progressed to the point where he wants to protect people from violence, where he wants to save kids from being turned into weapons like he was, but that's a personal motivation, and it's really, really, really hard for him to have the moral high ground.

But, in the end, Wolverine sells comics, not Beast, so Wolverine became the figurehead of the less militant side of the X-Men comics. Fine. Okay, we'll deal with it.

Wolverine and the X-Men is . . . good. It has problems, but on the whole, I like it more than a lot of what came after. I especially like Jason Aaron's moves to keep Hank and Abigail together, as well as fold Broo into a growing family unit. That's a good progression for his character, and it makes sense.

Then there's Avengers vs. X-Men, and it's. Like. Garbage, but. Whatever. I do appreciate that Hank is at least occasionally in character during it.

But then we come to All-New X-Men, and I just . . . ughhhhh.

UGHHHHHHH.

I hate it, man. I hate it. I hate Bendis' bullshit garbage characterisation of Hank McCoy, and I hold it directly responsible for everything that came after it, because it functionally replaced his prior characterisation.

Hank is a character obsessed with consequences in the 00s, he's obsessed with making the right choice, he's already learned that there's only so much that he can do to fix the world. Endangered Species (which I think is an amazing Hank story) shows us that Hank will only go so far, and that, honestly, in the grand scheme of things, he will stop himself.

And then Bendis was just like, well, fuck all that bullshit, Hank blew up the space-time continuum because he doesn't like Scott Summers.

And I hate it.

It would be one thing, if Bendis were actually interested in Hank as a character, if he was willing to examine his character and his choices and his reasons and his personality, but he isn't. He flits in and out of All-New as and when required, to be castigated for a decision made while he was dying, depressed, and dealing with multiple brain aneurysms. Ostensibly, we're meant to buy that Xavier's death was the tipping point, but we don't even see Hank react to it. It's not considered important.

Hank's grief, Hank's isolation, Hank's horror, all of it is just ignored.

There's no real emotional dimension here, there's no 'what is Beast thinking, why is he doing this, let's have him talk with characters that are his friends and try to work out where he's at mentally,' because Bendis doesn't care. "Why is Beast like this? He just is. He's just a morally hypocritical asshole who judges other people and does things without thinking." He just makes Hank look like a goddamn lunatic, and it all culminates in this.

I just. I fucking hate this issue, man. It's a long, excruciating character assassination that casually wrecks Hank's long running relationship with Abigail Brand, torches his legitimacy as an intellectual or moral individual, and portrays him as a sad, lonely old man who might as well just leave because no-one actually wants him around. It's fucking galling.

Hank just straight up would not wreck the space-time continuum to teach Scott Summers a lesson. He just wouldn't. I fundamentally reject the premise. I reject it just as much as I reject the shitty attempts to make Hank/Jean Grey a pairing.

I reject the idea that Hank is a loose cannon with no regard for rules or others, who just believes in his own moral authority and says fuck everyone else, I do what I want. That is NOT who he is, and I really do just have to wonder what everyone was smoking that no-one looked at this and went, wait, when did Hank change into this? Everyone just accepted it.

It really does just feel like people got tired of Hank complaining on Utopia, so when it came time to pile on the blame for all the problems that happened after it, no-one really cared when it all became Hank's fault. No-one was willing to point out that Bendis' characterisation of Hank doesn't make sense.

Does Hank hate Scott? Why? "He's going to cause a mutant genocide" = based on what? "He killed Charles Xavier" = under the influence of a cosmic force. I don't understand these characterisation choices. Hank knows Scott better than this.

Bendis just. Does not like Hank McCoy. I really can't come up with another explanation for why he went out of his way to do two bumper issues, All-New X-Men #25 and Uncanny X-Men #600, that are just a round robin of everyone telling him that they hate him and that he sucks and he should go die.

There are glimmers of better characterisation during this period.

Jonathan Hickman's New Avengers is - complex, and you'll often hear people gesture to that as the point at which Hank became full on amoral, but I reject that hypothesis entirely. It's a conclusion come to by people who haven't actually read it.

Hank spends most of that series being wracked with guilt, trying desperately to find another way to solve the problem that doesn't involve blowing up planets, and refusing to take a life. Which tracks with Hickman's characterisation of Beast.

"Broken him." Implying that it's not his natural state, and that there are other factors are at play. This is important to keep in mind.

For most of this time period, Hank is in a very rocky state. He's not quite with the X-Men, he's not quite with the Avengers, he's got a reputation for being a chronic screw-up, people regard him as unstable, and yet they'll still call on him to fix their problems for them.

Like, the amount of times that the X-Men call on him to help them, despite the fact that he left after their failed, garbage intervention, and he still goes back to them, is just so very tiring. Either the X-Men should stop relying on someone that they seem not to like or trust, or Hank should stop going back to a 'family' that seems not to value him or have his best intentions in mind. The halfway house they settle into is just weird and inconsistent.

Like, which is it? Do you guys actually want him around or not? Because you're kind of being massive assholes to a guy who primarily wants to help. And we're meant to be knee deep in his turn towards moral ambiguity by now, but he's still just kinda being a good dude!

Anyone who tells you that Beast's moral downfall has been a consistent slide since Threnody is a fraud, because there is nothing consistent about this period of history for Beast.

If these panels show you anything, it's that there are two Beasts running around - a guy who makes problems for other people to solve because he's an idiot, and actual Beast, who occasionally makes mistakes, but who has pure intentions, a good heart, a joke at the ready, and he's fundamentally a nice person. It's getting to be impossible to tell which one is going to turn up to your story.

The only really good writing comes in fits and spurts, and usually when he's under the care of a writer who seems to have some affection for him. Especially if Simon Williams is around.

Whenever I write this version of Hank, his tag is getting by, because it feels like his life is just perpetually on the skids and there's no real rhyme or reason as to why. He just oscillates between two extremes as and when the story wants him to be an asshole or not. Even he seems confused as to what's going on.

And then we get to Krakoa, and . . .

It's just fundamentally not the same character. It's not even the same as Dark Beast, it's just Mr. Sinister in blue fur with less jokes. Benjamin Percy just expects you to accept that Hank woke up one day and was like, y'know what? I think killing countries is fine, actually. I want to head up an intelligence agency. I should cut off Wolverine's head. Maybe torture some innocent aliens for fun.

Why?

Eh, he's just evil.

Why are you bothering to question it?

And people don't question it, because Hank is a horrible hypocrite who will do anything that falls within his narrow view of morally acceptable actions, and he's an awful person who people barely tolerate being around.

Except. He isn't that. Or is he? Because Bendis said he was like that. And as everyone knows, Bendis is the true arbiter of characterisation and continuity. Just ask a fan of Wanda Maximoff, and they'll tell you how happy they are with his definitive version of the character.

Like, I just don't buy it. Not for one bit. You can't make this character this and pass a spot check. The only reason people are fine with it is because they never particularly cared for Beast to begin with, and so this new, more 'interesting' characterisation is better. It's 'truer.' Meanwhile, people who actually have been following the character for years remember when other X-Men were saying stuff like this.

Which is it? Has every single nice thing an X-Man said about Hank McCoy been a horrible, hilariously off base misjudgement, or is Benjamin Percy a hack who can't write? Iunno, man. Jury's out.

And then we come to From the Ashes, which is . . . a little too early, to make a judgement? I'm tentatively optimistic, now that we have a Beast who isn't just. The worst. I don't love the fact that he's missing 40 years of memories, even if the storytelling opportunities of such a character beat are interesting.

I'm also on the fence about this.

Idk, I'm hoping that it'll be born out by the rest of the issue, and that Hank's characterisation here makes more sense with context, but I don't love the idea of bringing back the single most heroic version of Hank McCoy that ever existed, then side-jumping him straight into a redux of the Legacy Virus 'I can't leave the lab/I have to make moral compromises' storyline from the 90s.

I have faith in Jed MacKay, and I'm willing to give it a shot, but I'm just so used to being disappointed by Marvel and X-Men by this point.

To come back to how I feel about it all? This isn't what I would have wanted for Hank. Not even close. Bendis threw out everything I liked about Hank back in 2013, and it set us down a path that has even a hint of Hank being anything less than perfect seeing comments sections explode, saying that he's well on his way to becoming evil again.

His name is dirt in the fandom, and the reason it isn't considered more of a problem is because he never had that big of a fan base to begin with, which is mostly a result of the fact that he's not a character who gets big flashy 'I'm so cool' moments - he's a character whose storylines are often sad, morose, dark, and unhappy. People like Beast, but they won't generally go to bat for him.

The revisionist history bugs me, a lot. No, he wasn't always evil, and no, it's not been a consistent slide to villainy ever since 1993. He's just as liable to be written badly as any other character, and frankly, I think he's been a victim of it a lot more than a lot of other characters during the same time period, but whereas other characters will have that bad writing forgiven by both fandom and the writers (Emma Frost), it just. Hangs, over Hank's head, like Damocles' sword.

It's been disheartening, honestly. I left the fandom in 2015, after Bendis' runs, because I just didn't want to deal with it anymore, and when I came back a year ago, I found out it had only gotten worse. Everyone else got to enjoy Krakoa, with its big mutant pride storylines and their stories of redemption and deepening bonds and political machinations, and my character got stuck in the shitty black ops corner, acting like a James Bond villain with none of the charm. It really didn't make me feel welcome.

If it hadn't been for a good few other fans who have stuck by me since then, I probably would have left the fandom again, and while things are looking up a bit more now, I don't know if I'm ever quite going to be at a point where I'm not jaded, expecting another heel turn from Marvel.

It sucks, because Hank has always meant a lot to me. He's a character about ethical science, about body dysmorphia, about mental illness, about triumph through adversity, about second chances, about maturity, about nuance and conflict and complexity, and he just got bulldozed into being the war crimes guy.

I got invited to join an O5 X-Men Reddit the other day, and the only posts that even mentioned him both were like 'lol war crimes lol Beast killed someone,' and it just made me think, why in god's name would I want to be part of that?

Like, I have stuff to contribute. I have a lot of thoughts about Hank, and his friendships and relationships and his meaning as a character, stuff that people often haven't considered because they don't think about Beast as deeply as I do, stuff that could elevate and deepen people's enjoyment of stories they've read a hundred times before - and I just.

Why would I share it? Why would I go into a space where I don't feel welcome? Why would I share my thoughts on the deeper meaning of Hank's tendency towards performance and how it changes over 60 years of comic books, when I know that the first comment is gonna be some variation of 'lol war crimes'?

It'd be one thing if the story we got was any good, then I could at least say it was worth it, but it wasn't. That's the thing that bugs me the most. The story of Hank's heel turn could have been amazing, but the lack of care and thought to consistency extended so far that even his villain turn was bad. We sacrificed this

for this.

And it's just a straight up downgrade. There's none of what Hickman or Morrison talked about being the point or the appeal of Beast. There's no sweet man, there's no heart, there's no humanity. It's just edgy. It's just the ends justifies the means, and that's it. That's the final thesis. There's nothing more to it than that. It's just so. Simple. Undercooked, really. It feels like a disservice to the complex character that Hank McCoy is meant to be.

Final thoughts? Uh. It mostly all kinda sucks, go buy a copy of S.W.O.R.D volume 1 instead, it's really good.

[writingbirdy]

You and me against the world sal fisher x f!reader

[Sorry for not uploading been sick and now exams have started😅. Also, this is set in modern-day ] (f/n)= female name

It had been a few months since you and the gang all went to college...

Sadly you didn't stay together. Sal and Larry went to a local college, Todd went to a college in another city and Ash went to an art college. Here you were stuck working as you couldn't afford to go into debt and weren't able to get a scholarship.

It was a slow day at the gas station not many people bought anything except for gas... but hey at least after these next two paychecks you can finally do online classes and still have money left over! But even that didn't distract you from not having your friends around with all of them in college you started to wonder if they had forgotten about you... You had seen from Ashley's Instagram that they had all recently gotten together for a hangout. I broke your heart when you realised you weren't invited but not surprised. You had always struggled to be a part of the group, they were your friends but you were not as close as they all were with each other. Just as you went to check your phone the doors beeped indicating that someone was there. "Great just when I thought I could take my break..." you thought putting on your happy service employee smile. "Hello, how may I help you today?" You said in a cheerful tone. "I'd just like to pay for gas. Thanks" the man said as he held up his card ready to pay. "Of course what pump were you at?" "Pump 2" After that you pulled up the cost and he paid. "Hey, have we met before you seem familiar?" He said looking at you.

It was true you looked different from high school.

[This is the look minus the head piece]

Your hair was longer and your style had changed and truth be told the man standing in front of you was non other that Sal fisher. You were a bit upset he didn't recognise you considering you had a huge crush on him back in highschool but hey I guess you weren't truly important to him. "We probably went to high school together but I had changed since then...." you gave a small smile as he walks out the doors. After your shit had ended you noticed that Ash had tagged you in something on Instagram. Opening the app it was photos of you guys back in highschool with the caption "together in every lifetime <3". You didn't bother responding as you knew it was another empty post with no meaning. You unlocked your apartment door and went to your room and proceeded to sleep the rest of the night.

3rd person pov

Waking up to your ringtone was not something [f/n] was happy about. She answered the phone to be greeted with the sound of todd? That was new todd never rang her or even texted her after graduation.

[F/n]: "um hi todd?"

Todd: "Hello [f/n] Ashley has lost her phone so she asked me to call you" he said in a semi monotone voice

Ash: "hey todd did she pick up?"

Ash: "Oh! [f/n] I'm so glad you picked up!"

[F/n]: "it's not like I had a chose"

Ash: "well anyway how about me and you go out shopping in two hours!"

All [f/n] could think of is why now was she asking her to hang out? Also it's still the second semester of college there's not way she has time to shop before class and to make it worse [f/n] had work in half an hour.

[F/n]: sorry Ashley but I have work soon...

She didn't wait for a response and hung up the phone and deleted Todd's number.

2nd person pov

While at work sal came back into the gas station. "Excuse me but do you have any chips that aren't plain?" He asks walking up to the counter. "No sorry we've ran out" you replied ringing his items up. "Ah okay... just one last question?" "Sure..." you were already bored and your shift doesn't finish for another 4 hours.

"Is your name [f/n]?" Sal asked.

"Was it Ashley's post that helped you figure that out?" You said blankly staring at sal.

"Yeah! It's been a while since we spoke would you like to get coffee and catch up?" He stuttered out.

"Why does it sound like you're asking me out on a date?" You questioned praying it was not the answer you would never recover from......

[Hehehe cliffhanger 😈. But seriously it's almost midnight and I just want a chapter out so this can be a two parter]

[iamthecomet]

#oh THAT'S a thought#Dew visiting Ifrit and Zephyr's pillars#telling them about his day#about the new ghouls

EXCUSE YOU??????

In relation to this post and the incredible art by @floating-goblin-art (let me know if you don't want to be tagged in this and I'll fix it ♥), and my subsequent tags. Sorry Mal, I have a lot of thoughts about it.

Maybe they're not actually in there. Maybe they are. Maybe they're just stone. Monuments. Like graves. Not actual ghouls encased in whatever salt. That would be better. But Dew, honestly doesn't know. He was broken when it happened. Irreparably he thought. Sometimes he still thinks so. Especially on days when he wakes with a migraine, or an ache so deep in his bones he is sure it will never leave.

They're hidden away in a back room in the Abbey basement. Behind a door no one ever keeps locked. Maybe as a reminder in case anyone stumbles on them--this is what happens if you fail.

Dew still doesn't know why he isn't one of them. How he and Mountain and Aether escaped this fate and Ifrit and Zephyr didn't. They were all summoned by the same papa, in the same few weeks. It doesn't make sense, and trying to figure it out just makes Dew's head pound. It doesn't matter anyway. What matters is that Ifrit and Zephyr are in this dark room with Alpha and Pebble, and the first air ghoul who must have had a name but Dew never learned it. They're with Omega. Dew tries not to look at Omega--his face drawn towards grief and horror. Dew doesn't like to think about what he must have seen. Instead, he sits on the floor at Ifrit and Zephyr's feet. They're together. Close. There is something like resignation on Zephyrs face, acceptance. Ifrit, on the other hand, is frozen mid yell.

Dew can barely stand to look at him.

The floor is cold beneath his legs as he settles in. He leans his head against Ifrit's leg. Cold and solid and foreign in a way that makes his chest catch. It never gets easier. He keeps doing it anyway. He imagines warmth. Conjures some of his own just to make it feel real. He thinks of Ifrit reaching down to pet his hair. Of Zephyr sitting next to him, carding bitter tears off of his face with their thumb. "They summoned new ghouls today," Dew starts. Voice thin and wavering. He opens his eyes but doesn't look up. He encases himself in memory. Pretends they can hear him--all of them. But especially these two. "They're ok. I guess. Nice enough. Got a multi-ghoul this time so that's something. He's pretty too--Ifrit would be all over him." Dew's heart aches.

"We're going on tour soon so I won't be back for a while. But I promise I'll tell you everything about it when I get home." Dew always runs out of things to say before he's ready to leave. He presses his face against Ifrit's stony knee, reaches a hand up to brush over Zephyr's fingers. He closes his eyes, breathes them in like he hopes he can still catch the faint smell of them. Ginger and Snow. All he smells is salt and ash. "Miss you."

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

OP character catching you drawing them: Crocodile

I had forgotten how daddy Crocodile is. And this was going to be a Crocodile and Marco, but it got a bit long, so I'm posting crocodady's part as a stand alone.

The air was tense as you glared at Crocodile, only thing heard in the room was the ticking of the tall grandfather clock in the corner and the irritated scratching of his fountain pen against paper. He sat at his desk, and you sat across the room on his office couch. Crocodile and you had had two fights that day. That morning the bastard had canceled your plans for a trip to the beach in favor of doing paperwork. Even though he promised the two of you would go together after he's cancelled plans with you for three weeks straight. So that was the first fight, a small one that didn't really bother you.

The fight that had led to your anger resulted from you trying to go back to your apartment. He insisted you stay the night, swearing that he'd make the beach trip up to you with something even better. But when you expressed that you just wanted to go home to draw, blocked the exit with sand. You reached forward and started to push a sculpture off his coffee table.

The shrill squeaks of the metal against the marble tabletop made him look up at you over the top of his glasses. "Really? "

"Yes," you respond curtly as you nudge it closer to the edge.

"You know what, glare at me, and break all of my stuff that you want to, but..." Crocodile groused, pointing his cigar at you, "it won't change my mind."

You huffed and flop back into the couch, "I know, but at least give me something to do.

"You said you wanted to draw, here," he growled, yanking a stack of paper out of a drawer, and gestured to the pencil cup on his desk. "Amuse yourself for an hour, and I'll show you a night you'll never forget." You pursed your lips, walked over and took the papers. Crocodile sighed, "thank you," as you sat in the chair opposite his, and fished through the pencil cup.

Fort five minutes later Crocodile flopped back in his chair, and stretched. He was finally finished with his work, which meant his time and attention were all yours. The man glanced over at you, you were still too absorbed in your drawing to notice that he had finished. He was surprised and amused when he watched to dip your fingers into his ashtray and use them on your drawing.

To him, you were inspirational, you made him think about things in different ways.

Like he never would have considered his cigar ashes as something as anything other than trash. But you saw them and used them to shade your drawing. Although Crocodile mostly used his new outlook to cause havoc, acquire funds, and to try to figure you out. It was one of the many things Crocodile liked about you. And not that he'd admit it aloud, but it made him want to be a little like you.

You yipped in surprise when he leaned forward and pulled the pages out of your hands.

You could feel his voice rumble in your chest when he purred, "you were drawing my hands?"

" ....no."

"You're a bad liar, why did you draw just my hands?"

"Hands are hard to draw, but yours are quite fun to draw."

Crocodile's ego swells when he hears this as he examines the lovingly detailed drawing of his hand on the page. They looked big and strong. He was also deeply flattered you would use him as your subject.

"Really? Sorry I only have one of them for you to draw." He says as he grins, hoisting his big gold hook aloft, in an attempt to cover his embarrassment from you.

You laughed and shook your head, "You know I've always adored your hook."

Crocodile stood to his feet, made his way around his mahogany desk. He slid his hook round the back of your neck, making you look up at him, and he purred"You do, do you?"

When you obediently nodded and acknowledged him with a soft hum, he chuckled darkly and pulled you into a kiss.

"If you are ready to leave, would you go grab our coats?" When you disappeared into the closet attached to his office, he scribbled down a note to order art supplies for his office. He hoped that you'd come draw him more often. When you returned, he guided you out of his office with his arm around your waist. Your smile made him decided he'd build you a whole goddamn studio if it meant you used him as your muse.

[rusty-eevee]

RISING ASHES CONCEPT ART

I've posted a few of these before, but some of it is new.

I was looking through old concept art and thought it'd be fun to share. This is Silver, and he's the only character that had a reference at the beginning for some reason? Ash didn't even have one when I drew the first few attempts of the comic. Silver's design has stayed pretty similar though.

My first two comic pages! They were both drawn on my phone and it's so crazy to me how different my art style was back then. I think it's been about two years since these two pages.

This was my second attempt at the comic years ago and I have no idea what I was doing with the shading and the background. Why did I make his fire darker? It's fire. I had no idea how to shade.

This was Ash's first ref sheet! I liked the concept for his design but I think there was too much red back then. His flames don't pop out much when he has two different big, red accessories. Plus I hated the way the legs turned out. I kind of miss the heart on his baby pouch but I knew I would never be able to keep that consistent.

Two more initial first panel sketches! I had a hard time figuring out how I wanted to start this comic. The Dewott in the second one is a scrapped character. I didn't have a name for him yet, but he was going to be the adoptive father of Ash and Silver. I had a lot of different plans for Ash's parents that later ended up scrapped. Some species I considered were a Floatzel, Ampharos, Croconaw, Pawmot, and a lot more I can't even count. I definitely liked Buizel, but in the end, I didn't think if fit as well as the options I went with.

Here's two sketches I did as concept art for Ash's design, both of them being from around December last year. I liked the face but not the rest of the design yet.

This design was drawn about ten minutes before Ash's current design. Right after finishing it I immediately knew I didn't like it. I think this was the worst it'd turned out through the entire process. His baby pouch is gone for some reason, his bag and scarf are two conflicting shades of blue, his face was completely off and everything looked awkward to me. Right after finishing this, I made another one, going into it thinking about the things I didn't like drawing about this version.

(If you're interested in the comic, you can check it out @risingashescomic)

[freneticfloetry]

semicompleted saturday many sentence sunday

Man, I missed all the tag games this week. Shit be crazy. But Michelle had the awesome idea to post the random outtakes we all have lying around, which is something I totally can do. Thanks to @heartstringsduet, @liminalmemories21, @lemonlyman-dotcom, @sanjuwrites, @rmd-writes, and @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut for the tags!

Rules: Share one scene or art that never made it into a/the finished piece and probably never will. (And if you want, share what it was supposed to be and why you left it out or never finished it)

This was originally meant for to build a home, and — after a one-line revelation — was quickly replaced by the post-engagement announcement scene, but I’m beginning to think it might be the start of something else entirely. Who knows?

He gets halfway through the baguette, moving another slice from the bowl of vanilla-swirled milk to coat in frothy egg batter on both sides, before he considers that he might be making too much. It’s been years since he made his abuela's torrejas, a taste first too tied to faith for him to take on — memories marked with ashes and palms and all the things he had to give up for longer than Lent — and then too involved to make for no one but himself. But despite the lack of bolillo in the bread box and the fact that he only has extract, not her precious paste, he'd felt the overwhelming urge to make a batch this morning. They'd always been her favorite for celebration, after all, and he’d woken up too soon in a space too quiet and needed something to do with his hands. Carlos sets the new slice in the pan of hot oil and carefully flips the one before with a spatula, then lifts the last one out entirely, both sides golden brown and perfect, and sets it on the baking sheet with the rest. It's probably fine. It'll all be fine. He glances at the open door to the bedroom and thinks, distinctly, that he should stop, right before his hands slice the rest of the loaf into equal, even pieces. He's frying off the last of it when TK pads through the door, all bedhead and bleary eyes, scrubbing at his scrunched face like a toddler, and just the sight of him makes Carlos' heart swell behind his ribs. "Hi baby," TK mumbles, sleep-slurred, snaking his arms around Carlos’ waist and smearing his lips over his shoulder. "Is there coffee?" Carlos shakes his head, swallowing before he chances sound. "I didn't want the smell to wake you.” TK snorts into his skin. "It smells like Sunday morning on the Seine in here. I doubt the coffee would even make a dent." Setting the spatula aside, Carlos looks from the tray of too many torrejas to the pan of homemade syrup on the stove, two cones of piloncillo steeped in cinnamon and clove, and figures he probably has a point. TK lets him go with an adorable little sigh and a squeeze to the swell of his hip, trudging off to put on a pot. For a few moments, it’s just another morning — Carlos cooking, TK chasing caffeine. The two of them sharing the same space, comfortably separate, before they came together again. It occurs to him then that this culinary freak out on four hours sleep might have been for the wrong reasons. Morning has come, but maybe TK doesn't actually regret it. Maybe he doesn't even remember. God, maybe Carlos had just dreamt it all up. Behind him comes the unmistakable sound of TK hauling himself onto the counter. "We're totally telling your parents first, by the way. I had a dream that we posted a picture of you arresting me in bed with the caption 'do these cuffs make me look engaged,' and my first call on shift was your mother fainting in the middle of the farmer's market."

No pressure tagging @ambiguouspenny, @reyesstrand, @catanisspicy, @orchidscript, @welcometololaland, @never-blooms, and @carlos-in-glasses.

[lethesbeastie]

It's funny to me just how far the Never Found art I drew has traveled across the internet. I'm not great at social media, there's a reason that the first one I came to when I was free of my mom's oversight was Tumblr. I've always wanted to make art and share it and make people happy. And yet, somehow, I've managed to do that very thing and always manage to forget it.

I got asks pretty early on after I made it asking if I had it available as a print, or if it could be used as a lockscreen, and I remember being flattered but surprised. To me it was just one piece of art, sketched out in a mindless haze because the hyperfixation locked in for that day. But there are people who used it as their lockscreen for months. People who found it cross posted to reddit by others and traveled back here to Tumblr to tell me they loved it. People who found it once but lost it and are celebrating finding it again. Every once in a while a mutual of mine or someone I don't know will reblog it and start up a new shower of notifications from people discovering it anew, and each time I pour through the tags and comments, trying to collect the things people say and hold them in my mind. I try not to let others words define me, I know it's dangerous to rely only on the praise of strangers for happiness, but sometimes it's the only thing that seems to cut through the constant haze in my head.

Living has been hard. At this point, I've been in burnout so long I may as well be ashes. I struggle to do the basic things that keep me alive, I struggle to find joy in anything at all. But amidst that, even when I'm caught in my head, seeing people respond to the things I've made feels like I'm being thrown a line. In an ocean of doubt, the words of others fall like life preservers, like open hands stretched out from the shore. I don't always catch them, and it's rare for me to make it back to feeling like a person even clinging to the things that people say. But seeing them is enough to remind me why I'm here. Why I've chosen to fight the waves of life instead of drown. So to anyone whose ever left tags on my work, thank you. And to the people who've found joy in my Never Found art, I hope it continues to be something you can look upon with wonder.

[13leaguestories]

February 2023 Forecast

I am writing this with my back and neck in horrible pain. Worse way to start your morning is to get up, stretch, and then pull something. I feel bed ridden.

"T, are you done with your break?" No idea. Define break. My brain is slowly coming back to me so good news is I'm not quitting lmfao. My brain almost had me in the first half ... and most of the second. When I do return though, I'm implementing a new writing process called "write what I want to fucking write when I want to fucking write it."

"T, did you need to add all those expletives?" No. But you know how a lot of folks be like 'as I get older I'm going to curse less?' I'm the opposite. I curse more. It makes me feel all tingly inside.

Alright, welcome to the second best month, purely because it's my birthday month, that's literally it. You know I share this month with both my brother and my father, plus my parents and my brother's anniversaries. Like, the shortest month is basically the busiest for my family in terms of celebrations. Why did they do this? I don't know, no one uses sense in this family besides me.

MOVING ON! Bout to enter into a All My Woes episode.

Superstition S3

Still on break. Do not ask me when it's coming back. Because I'm going to do what I should've done (and what you guys thought I do already) and actually write a good bit of it. I'll probably put up a poll asking if you guys want to keep the bi-weekly schedule or if I just update it as the episodes are complete.

Throne of Ashes

Working on updating the demo with Makaio's finished demo and some bug fixes for the other routes. Nour is next and Ozara will be following them on that upload schedule.

Insight

Because unlike its cousin, For the Crown, Insight is not 100% dead, it's more like on life support. But I'll be updating it with the new UI that I have to bring it in line with the others. Also an additional chapter will be added so now the demo will end at Ch5.

Future T here. I've already updated it with the new UI and the first bug fix. A bigger one is coming so still, if you find any bugs, hold off on sending them in. Bug reports make me depressed and you guys don't want to see that, right? RIGHT?!

Horizon: Sea of Stars

Per my "do what ya want" lifestyle, yes, Tierra has done it again. She has said fuck it to common sense and those two friends out of ten that said don't do it, and she went and made a new project. I blame eight friends who inspire me in the most negative ways because I never blame myself. Never blame yourselves, you're never toxic, it's those around you. (That's a lie, do not quote me. My god.)

This is a scif-fi project (because I needed to have the holy trinity of the best genres out there to make myself feel complete (jokes on me I still feel empty)). The MC is like Phoenix MC in some ways where this is not exactly 100% self-insert friendly, there are a few traits included and mindsets that you as the reader can't change. 6 romances, 2 males, 2 females, and 2 nonbinary. 5 of the 6 are aliens. And art is on it's way with two of the characters already done. I have art of the alien species as well because I know how difficult it can be to picture an alien based off of descriptions alone. They will be included in story to further help.

This is me just telling you guys, I'll post all of the info of the book itself with the demo like I normally do. Especially when I figure out where I want the demo to stop at. It's still pretty much in alpha mode with only one chapter done and even that is still seeing edits.

Also if any of you have got this far and know an artist or you are someone who can do really nice colorful covers and are good with backgrounds then tell me because I'm still searching for a cover artist.

. . .

There is also now a Light Mode on some stories. If it's not there then it's being worked on. Don't look at Superstition, it's not there.

Alright, I think that's it. I'm going to go lie down and scream at the heavens about my neck.

Future T again. My neck is better but if I look over my shoulder it's like "naw girl, stop that."

[thatredheadwriter]

Snowed In

ezra x f!reader

You and Ezra are snowed in at your little cabin and there’s nothing to do but each other.

I wrote this back before Christmas, but I’ve been a little distracted lately with my job that I hate and trying to figure out what I’m going to with my future. However, as the new year starts, I’m committed to doing more things that make me happy, which includes tumblr-ing and writing. I’ve missed this, and I’ve missed you. I hope you enjoy.

This is an NSFW oneshot for female reader with Ezra of Prospect. This work contains smut and mature language and should not be read by those under 18. As a writer, I will attempt to make accurate warnings for each of my fics, however, I cannot guarantee that I will identify each and every sensitive topic. My works regularly contain swearing, allusions to/mentions of sex, and canon-level violence.

Content Includes (but is not limited to):

Set in canon universe

post-movie Ezra (aka one-arm Ezra)

No mention of Cee

Snowed in with Ezra

petnames  (Junebug, bug, sweetheart)

Swearing

Slight D/s dynamics

Threats of orgasm denial

Oral (f receiving)

Fingering (f receiving)

Anal sex (f receiving)

Aftercare

Cuddly Ezra

Please read at your own discretion and remember to consume your fanfiction responsibly.

It’s eerily silent when you wake next to Ezra, save for his soft snores that fill the dark room. But even those seem muffled as you sit up in bed. You hiss when your feet hit the cold floor, and you wish you’d heeded Ezra’s advice last night when he’d told you that the two of you ought to trade off keeping the woodstove going. Now it burned dim, only ashes and embers glowing in the bottom of the firebox.

You don’t realize how much snow has fallen until you’re restarting the fire with fresh kindling and dry brush, and you stand to peek out the window. Everything you can see is covered in a heavy blanket of pristine white--deadly and beautiful.

“Come back to bed, bug,” Ezra rasps behind you, and you turn to see him spread out in the dim light, his broad, scarred chest out on display like a piece of art.

“Gotta get this fire started, Ez,” you shake your head at him, the lazy bastard watching you do all the work.

His words drip with promise, “I’ll warm you right up if you’ll only return to me, my little Junebug.” Words unsaid send a shudder down your spine.

Ezra is absolutely insatiable. Last night he’d laid you out on the rug under your feet and eaten his fill until you were physically unable to cum anymore, and he’d relished in the way his beard was soaked through with your many releases. After, he’d fucked his fist and cum over your tits before cleaning you with his mouth as you tried to catch your breath.

But it seems he still wants more. You could have seen it coming though, he can never resist fucking you when you wear his clothes, and you’d pulled on his discarded thermal at some point in the chilly night.

“It looks like we’re snowed in” you comment, like your mind hadn’t just replayed all the orgasms he’d given you in the last twelve hours, soaking your panties. “Hope you didn’t plan on getting out today.”

“You know exactly what my plans are bug,” Ezra growls, and you know you’re getting to him.

“I thought I might fix some breakfast, at least get some coffee started,” you muse, hiding your smile by stoking the growing flames. He hates to be ignored, and you can feel his irritation growing from across the room.

The springs of the mattress squeak and you look back to see Ezra propped up on his one arm, gaze harder than any aurelac boring straight into your own. “Bug, don’t test me,” he warns, a dangerous edge to his voice that makes you clench around nothing.

“Why not?” you ask defiantly, only a slight shake to your voice as you clench your thighs together.

Ezra is a patient man, and he knows the game you’re playing. It’s not a new one and he knows just what strings to pluck that will have you singing in his embrace.

“If you continue to defy me, little Junebug, I promise you won’t cum until we burn through the last of the wood in that pile.”

Your eyes widen when you realize he’s looking at the stack by the door, about four feet by four feet, enough for at least two more days in this remote little slice of paradise the two of you had built.

“Now come over here and let a starving man break his fast.”

A tiny squeak escapes your lips as you bound toward the bed and jump underneath the covers, giggling as Ezra peppers you with kisses.

“I love you,” he groans into your neck as a peck turns to a nibble. “Now let me warm you up little Junebug.”

His hand snakes down your torso, dipping into your panties and finding the wetness already pooled between your folds. You whimper into his mouth as his rough fingers circle your clit, and your hips buck up against him.

“Already so wet for me, darling,” he teases, sliding his hand down and slipping two thick fingers into your waiting cunt. “Did you enjoy teasing me?”

You don’t answer, too content with his ministrations to search for words to answer him with, but he pulls his hand away in retaliation.

“Yes, yes I did!” you gasp, hand flying down to clutch his wrist and keep him from moving away.

“Filthy girl,” he admonishes, nuzzling your ear.

“Please, Ezra,” you plead, rolling your hips against his fingers. Your orgasm is building quickly and you know the more you beg now the more forgiving he’ll be when it comes to letting you release.

“What do you need, Bug?” Ezra coos in your ear.

You whimper as he finds the spot inside you that makes your eyes roll. “Need your mouth, Ez.”

He chuckles darkly and pulls his hand away before you can protest. But he’s moving toward the foot of the bed and you know what’s coming next.

“Got my Junebug addicted, have I?” he asks with a hum, settling between your legs and tugging your soaked panties down your legs. 

“Kevva’a yes!” you throw your head back as he dives in, his tongue lapping eagerly at your clit as he scissors his fingers in and out of you. “Fucking addicted to you, Ez. Your fingers, that fu-ucking mouth,” your breath hitches as he nips at your clit, “Your cock too. Feels so good when you’re splitting me apart.”

A wave of pleasure washes over you and one of your hands leaves the bedding to tangle in Ezra’s curls, making him moan into your cunt as your nails scratch across his scalp.

“Gonna cum, Ezra,” you moan, bucking up into his face, but he doesn’t stop. Instead he pushes deeper, harder, grunting into you as you release on his tongue, riding out your high against his face. 

It’s too much and not enough all at once and you simply can’t get enough of Ezra. Your fingers in his hair tighten and you use your grip to pull him back up your body so you can kiss him, the taste of your own release making your cunt clench again.

“I need you inside, Ez,” you pant when he finally pulls away for a breath.

He seems to be contemplating something for a moment.

“Gonna let me fill this tight little ass?” he asks, leaning in to nip at your bottom lip as his hand palms your ass.

The thought makes you leak out onto the sheets below. You’d been toying with the idea for a while, Ezra easing you into it with his tongue and fingers and plenty of lube. It was dirty and filthy and yet Ezra held you so delicately when he teased you there, calling you his sweet little Junebug, urging you to relax in that sultry sweet voice you’d come to think of as home.

“Do you have the lube?” you breathe, and Ezra nods, eyes dark.

He leaves your side for just a second to retrieve it from the bedside drawer.

“I want you to fuck my ass, Ezra,” you purr, nuzzling into his neck. You feel his breath hitch and it makes your heart swell. He knows what this means, and the trust you’re placing in him.

“Shit, Junebug. How can I say no to that?” He places one last kiss to your temple before moving over you, shedding his underwear and letting his hard cock bob up against the swell of his stomach. He pushes your knees until they’re nearly to your chest, spread so he can watch your face as he coats his fingers with the lube before teasing open the puckered ring of muscle between your cheeks.

Ezra’s eyes flit between where his fingers are working you open and your face, completely transfixed by the way your face reacts to the way he’s pulling you apart.

“Do you think you’re ready for me, sweetheart?” he rasps, hand withdrawing from your ass to palm his cock, now aching and red.

“Please, Ezra, fuck me,” you beg, wiggling your ass and pulling your knees closer to your chest.

He’s slow as he pushes in, your hole and his cock already glistening with a generous layer of lube. It’s a different sensation than when he fills your cunt, but he feels even bigger this way, closer. 

When he’s fully seated inside of you, you both lie there for a moment in the silence, listening to your labored pants of pleasure mixing in the cool morning air.

“Fuckin’ move, Ez,” your nails scratch down his back, and you can’t help but clench around his length inside of you.

Ezra wastes no time finding a pace that leaves the both of you breathless, his hand tangling with yours and pressing into the bed as he fills you over and over again. He’s babbling above you now, words pouring out of him like a fountain.

“Squeezin’ me so damn tight, Bug. Can’t believe I’m so close to you. So fucking close you to,” his brow is furrowed tightly and you can tell he’s getting close to his release. Your hand not pinned by his slips down between you and finds your clit, rubbing hard.

“I’m gonna cum, Ezra,” you assure him, meeting his gaze. “Come on, Ez. Fill me up. I want to feel it,”

A strangled noise leaves his throat and you feel his length twitch inside of you, spurting hot ropes of cum into your ass as you tip over the edge into a soft release that leaves you trembling beneath him as he rides out his high.

The two of you stay joined together for a moment after you’ve cum, you comfortably smushed under Ezra’s familiar weight. But eventually he pulls away, making you whine as his cock slips out of your gaping hole.

You watch his back as he disappears into the small bathroom, returning after a minute redressed in a pair of thermal pants and a washcloth in hand. Ezra is gentle as he cleans his spend from between your cheeks, only once getting distracted by the trail of cum dripping out of your ass.

He tosses the rag aside, a problem for later, and rejoins you in the bed, pulling you close to his body.

“Thank you, Junebug,” he murmurs into your ear, hand slipping under your shirt to trace circles on your tummy.

“I think I should be thanking you, Ez,” you chuckle, twisting your neck so you can kiss him sweetly. “I’m certainly not cold anymore.”

[neurodivergentscribbles]

Episode 2 - Ashley Halliwell

Welcome to Neurodivergent Scribbles, a writing podcast curated for neurodivergent people, by neurodivergent people. Today is Friday, June 28th, 2024. I’m your host, Abbott Manning Hansen. 

Content Warning - Today’s episode discusses themes of abuse, war, neglect, violence, and gore. Listener discretion is advised.

First, before we hop into the episode, I do want to offer my apologizes. Normally, we do drop an episode of Neurodivergent Scribbles on Wednesday at noon. Obviously, today is not Wednesday; it is Friday. And it is far passed noon local time. So, I want to apologize for not dropping the episode earlier. I had moved this weekend and I got sick immediately, thereafter, so I was unable to record like normal. So, again, I do offer my apologizes to all of you. And I want to thank you so much for your patience and your patronage.

Today’s featured writer is Ashley Halliwell. Ashley Halliwell is an accomplished artist for not having reached 30, yet. From the age of 11, they were trained professionally as a choral singer. At age 14, they released their first album. They have since released over a dozen more, with another in the works. They have created various visual art pieces, from painting, to digital masterpieces, since they were 3. They have acted since they were 7, engaging in productions of the self-produced variety, as well as local and school related productions. While acting, they also wrote, creating their first poems at age 5, and having written plays, serial fiction, essays, nonfiction blog posts, research articles, songwriting, short fiction, and self published poetry collections in the last two decades. Ashley’s writing has always been one thing: an outlet. From their songs, to their poems, to their self-proclaimed “shit-posting empire,” Ashley has poured their lived experiences into their work. In doing so, they have become relatable; speaking to experiences that have, until now, never had a voice. They are honest, raw, and unapologetically authentic in how they deliver the messages woven through their many adventures. They have since used their platform as a multi-faceted artist to serve as an unwitting advocate for the black sheep, the disowned, the weirdos, the misfits, and the healing traumatized people the world over. Their popularity has also made it possible for them to organize and operate a mutual aid community for individuals with disabilities. Their various social media will be in the description for your viewing pleasure. Originally from the heart of Texas, Ashley came from old money and was homeschooled. But they were raised with an entrepreneurial mindset, where resourcefulness and critical thinking skills were key. The idea of working for what you want was not lost on them. Having traveled all over the world and lived in various places within the US, Ashley learned their worth, becoming larger than life and creating positive change for themselves and others they interacted with. They serve as an example of what life can be when you live in an unapologetic authentic manner, never letting others dictate who you are and what your truth is, and rising from the ashes of trauma new and stronger than before. This phoenix reborn is why I decided to feature Ashley. They prove that in climbing through the depths of the darkness, there is strength in moving forward toward the light of a better future.

Singing Molten Gold To The Morning: Poems is a collection of poetry written by Ashley Halliwell under the pseudonym Perzival D.H.C. Dunn-Blackthorne, the second of two collections written under this nom de guerre. Today’s excerpt is Guernica, parts 1-2 from Singing Molten Gold To The Morning: Poems. Let’s dive in, shall we?

Guernica -

I. 26 april 1937…

I don’t know what i do best

Anymore

Except turn pain into something

Beautiful

But what about the horrors of it

And not the glory?

I want to take what I feel and

Not what I say

Turn it into something 11 feet

Tall and 25 feet wide

But my hands are little

My hands are little and no

Paintbrush is small enough to

Catch

All the detail

I’m tired of walking over

Thresholds of bombed out

Buildings or a half built house

I’m tired of only seeing rubble

I’m a builder, damnit

I’m supposed to build people up

I’m supposed to help

Not have nightmares like

Flashbacks that crush me!

So I dare myself

Now -

Put your own oxygen mask on

Before you

Drop that bomb

And then stay awhile

Before flying away

II. Thresholds are for brides

And I was a bride once

But that was a moment and

I wore a dress as red as blood

People asked why I did that

I know why I did that now

I didn’t know how else to say I was angry

When my mind was taped shut and

I was

Kept in the fog

Damn those pills!

Damn the nightmares!

Damn that house that should have caught fire

With all inside!

I am not the crazy child kept in the attic!

Not anymore

I am the human unchained,

I am the one that walks free!

I have doors now

I have miles in my pockets

I can and will lock you out

And there’s blood on their hands

They kicked a child

They should have loved the child

But when they dropped the bombs

The empty house of my mind caved in.

But the structure is stronger than that

I am stronger than that

And this is me calling it what it is…

You make your own hell,

I say to the bombers

I say to the horrors that I experienced

Some people see battlefields

I have seen a mind turned inside out

I have been trapped in my own body

I have seen my innocence die before me

And I’ve shouted into the hole of loss

And I’m still hearing the infinite echo.

I don’t know which is worse

You make your own hell,

I say to the demons I fight

Your hell is not mine,

Your chains are not mine,

I am not your wall to punch.

I’m not a pewter cup to drink

From and laugh with

Your hell is not mine

Not anymore.

This is me calling it what it is…

Hell.

And I enter it on my own terms.

Not yours,

Not anymore.

In Singing Molten Gold To The Morning: Poems, the piece entitled Guernica is split into seven parts. Each part beautifully plays into the next, but for this examination, we’ll look at the first two. Part one speaks to the painting of the same name by Spanish artist, Pablo Picasso. Guernica is an anti-war oil painting that portrays suffering shaped by violence and chaos. It is a gory display of gray-scale agony that was unlike Picasso’s more vibrant works. This theme rolls over into part two. Part two of Guernica speaks to the hell endured by a former bride through childhood trauma and medical neglect. A hell the bride walks through now, but on their terms, claiming their strength of will and removing themselves from the abuse of those who were supposed to love and nurture them. Something often overlooked by neurotypical and abled individuals is the abuse neurodivergent and disabled individuals endure through no fault of their own. Being emotionally abandoned by a parent when you don’t fit their idyllic vision of what you should be. Facing the violent onslaught of bullying from your peers. Educators ignoring, or worse, berating you for not measuring up to the rest of the class. Society deciding that being neurodivergent and/or disabled is all you are and ever will be, assuming you’ll be nothing more than a burdensome drain on the community and its resources. How it's that much more difficult to find genuine love and kindness compared to our neurotypical and abled counterparts. For today’s prompt, I want you to think about a time you suffered because of your neurodivergence. What happened that caused you to suffer? How did you overcome it? Let this prompt be a structured poem. There are a variety of different structures to poetry. I’m personally very fond of Spenserian sonnets. Rhyme and iambic pentameter make my brain happy. But you can use any poem structure you like best! Haiku, sonnet, limerick, an ode, villanelle, free verse, and more. This one isn’t timed, but I would recommend doing some free writing first to get your thoughts down before jumping into writing a poem. Free writing can allow you to gather your thoughts on any subject, which can assist in finding patterns and how you want to move forward with expressing those thoughts in the form of a poem. And do so however is most comfortable and accessible for you, whether that be writing long hand, typing on a computer or typewriter, typing on your phone, or using a speech-to-text program to dictate your thoughts in a notes app on your device. This prompt will be posted on our various social media for you to reference later, all of which are connected to our Linktree in this episode’s description. Be sure to submit your writing prompt to the podcast email, nd.scribbles.pod@gmail.com, for a chance to have your work featured at the beginning of the next episode!

Today's ending quote: "Our story may have any number of endings but its start is a singular choice we make today." - Dr. Faisal Khosa, Associate Professor in the Department of Radiology at Vancouver General Hospital, University of British Columbia. He is passionate about giving back through coaching and mentoring students and his mentoring has benefited students all over the world.

My name is Abbott Manning Hansen, host of the podcast, Neurodivergent Scribbles. Thanks for listening, and have a creative day, my fellow Scribblers!

[goldenandhappy]

BEHOLD, my pinned post.

Hue hue hue hue.

Welcome, traveler, to this yellow colored blog✨. You can call me Gigi !

I post about One Piece a lot and about other animus and shows to a lesser extent. Here you can find #ATLA, #Good Omens, #Gintama, #Spy x family, #Fmab, #Blue lock, #Trigun Stampede, #OFMD, #Dr Who, etc etc. 

I am a hardcore Lawlu shipper, and I DO post nsfw content. I tag it under #Not the safest for work. So feel free to block it at your leasure ❤️.

I also write Lawlu fanfics on Ao3 under LawluSupremacy_Gigi. I’d love to hear your thoughts about my work 💖

A few tags that will allow you to navigate this blog are:

#Gigi.writes : For my fanfics and headcanons.

#Gigi.answers : For answering asks

#As I rewatch : For my reactions during a rewatch

#Ciel makes great art : I just love the Lawlu art by @kagamiciel​ and decided to give it its own tag. Will probably add other artists/writers to this tagging pattern as life goes on. #Nim or #Nim draws the cutest Lawlu : Specifically a tag for my loveliest @nimudae and her cute cute cutesy art

#Papa Cora : For art and stories where Donquixote Rosinante is an adorable dad.

#Donquixote brothers : For art and stories featuring the Donquixote brothers.

And finally, here is a masterlist of my works :

Parental love is a silent bliss [Fluff, outsider’s POV] Law and Luffy adopt an orphan who ate Cora-san's fruit. This is the story of how their relationships grew and evolved.

Memories from last night [Full on smut with feelings, angst with a happy ending, Modern AU] "He was desperately in love. With the man, with his smile, and with the charisma he exuded effortlessly. And there he was in front of him, eyes burning with desire. All Law had to do was ask. " Or Luffy was the only one for Law. Law was not the only one for Luffy. Or so he thought.

Pet play [Full on smut with feelings, Fluff, Modern AU] “You’re an idiot, you know that, right ?” “Yeah ? Why is that ?” “You dressed me in dog ears and called me your little tiger.” Or Law and Luffy try new things.

Ashes to Dust [Heavy angst, Canon divergence] Law will never forget the night he felt Luffy’s vivre card burn against his chest.

The King Must Serve [Full on smut with feelings, Royal AU] It is said that in the far far kingdom of Flevance, beyond the white mountains and the blue sea, was a secret custom for the newly elected king. The King must serve. [Part 1 of Once upon a time in the kingdom of Flevance]

Luffy and Law met in the Army [Fluff, love confessions, Royal AU] Rosinante plays matchmaker and makes Law meet Luffy. Or The reason why Torao became king. [Part 2 of Once upon a time in the kingdom of Flevance]

Mine. [Full on smut with feelings, love confessions, Royal AU] Luffy gives Law the time of his life. [Part 3 of Once upon a time in the kingdom of Flevance]

I hope you have fun in here ! Don’t shy away from talking to me ! Let’s be friends :D

EDIT : I have a dedicated Good Omens blog now. Come say hi here❤️