#『 outside of here ◦ ooc 』

[welcometogrouchland]

my Stephanie Brown hot take is that she should get mad bitches now that she's single in comics. Yes yes shipping BUT the one time she had sex she was punished by the narrative via teen pregnancy. I think she should be allowed to have as much sex as she wants with zero consequences. Could be a lot of sex, could be a little. Point is she should get to do it without getting narratively baby trapped this time. she should get them pregnant, actually.

[mammoth-clangen]

I love seeing the colour patterns on your clan gen homotherium and smilodon.

They remind me of cat colours. Colour mutations in animals (cats and prehistoric animals on general too) are my special interest

I remember that my favourite smilodon design was the one from Primeval. I still have the box sets and they were my favourite as a kid (and now lol).

Sad that Smilodon was most likely tawny like lions. It apparently lived in open areas so most likely wouldn't have spots or stripes. But that doesn't mean we can't draw them like it. Also I wonder what mutations they did have in real life (like white lions, white tigers, "strawberry" erythristic leopards, albino leopard, and melanistic leopards and jaguars do appear in the wild)

I actually discovered your comic when I followed the homotherium tag after seeing the frozen cub. I once saw lyuba the mammoth at the natural history museum, London, at a limited exhibition. I'm completely obsessed with the permafrost mummies. I hope I get to see more in person one day.

Here's my kitty, Zoe.

Oh my goosh what a cute cat ;A;

here's my creature, Fat Tilly! She's an 11yr old Selkirk rex who likes loafing and lying in the sun c:

And thank you! I adore colour mutations in extant animals and I agree that it's really fun to contemplate them in extinct ones c:

I'm gonna preempt this getting long and put a cut here jhrjhrf

I'm sure you will already have seen this, but for anyone interested in paleoart depictions of colour mutations, I'd really recommend this great article all about it

White Cat, Gold Plains was actually all about the premise of a Homotherium with piebaldism. Pied is one of my favourite pigment mutations because it's so much deeper than integument patterns; it's actually a neural tube defect that leads to distinct behavioural changes. WC,GP was about Kiina, the pied cat, and her struggles with always being view as 'childish' by her peers and struggling to fit in. There was also more human impact in this story, as Kiina gets picked up as a cub by a group of early humans. It was sort of my own experience/musings on neurodivergency played alongside some thoughts on early domestication attempts humans must have had (though we all know that, sadly, Homotherium did not end up domesticated). Pied animals are typically more trusting, which is why you see so many pied domestic animals! (Fat Tilly and Zoe both are, for example lolol)

Also the Primeval Smilodon has one of the most gorgeous and distinct designs of any media sabercat tbh, I really loved the episode as a whole even though it had a sort of sad-but-expected ending.

I don't remember where I read it, but there was someone discussing Smilodon patterns and the conclusion was basically "we can't be sure". While lions are solid as adults, they're spotted as cubs and likely had spotted ancestors seeing Pantherines seem to have strongly contrasting patterns as the default. Machairodontids aren't even the same lineage as Pantherines, so we really can't know what patterns they had except for Homotherium latidens having dark brown cubs! They could just as easily grow into a different adult coat, like hyena do. (side note, I was sorta hoping that absolutely amazing Homotherium mummy news might drag some people to my comic so I'm glad it did lolol)

Smilodon was also likely very ambush dependent, being too bulky for pursuits even as long as modern lions. Disruptive colouration could have helped with this even in fairly open habitats. This is actually why I gave the Ice Fangs very faint stripes; high contrast tiger striping didn't make much sense, but breaking up the outline a little couldn't be a bad thing even in a steppe environment. I also didn't want them completely solid because there are actual lions to differentiate cx

[x-reader-things]

“I don’t want to fuck this up.”

Ekko x gn!reader [could be read as either romantic or platonic]

Summary ; In which you and Ekko help each other find your spark of creating again.

Requested? ; No. Self indulgent.

Warnings ; hurt / comfort, grief, a hint of survivors guilt but mostly just guilt in general, loss of a friend [unnamed uncanon character], not exactly a warning but hair is mentioned w / no specific hair type described.

Word count ; 2.3 k words

——————————————————————

You stare at the mural in front of you.

Tall and daunting. The tree grew around it like a shield, and the portraits were protected by the home built above in the branches.

Rain pattered on the ground. It had begun to soak through your clothes, dotted cold and unwelcoming on your cheeks. Slid off your head and yet caught into your hair at the same time. You were lucky it wasn’t pouring.

It smelled. A mix of petrichor and something putrid. No doubt from the smog that always left the sky over Zaun grey, and never clear enough for the sun to fully peak through. Such is the usual, for the undercity.

None of that mattered, though.

You were tasked - well, you took it upon yourself - to paint a portrait of another fallen Firelight. You were an artist like most of them were. You painted in your downtime for a while, up until recently.

The past year hadn’t been kind to you. Even with the Firelights being there, existing as a home. As a beacon of hope. For change. It wasn’t enough to fan the flames of the dimmed spark of creativity, that you longed to feel once again.

One failed mission after the next. An injury in your leg that had you benched for weeks. Chembarons were getting reckless, and enforcers were relentless - you feared when the other shoe would drop, when shit would hit the fan.

And then, the recent loss.

A close friend of yours.

The guilt was impudent. Almost impertinent. It seared into your bones like an angry flame that simmered and waited. Stars, you hated it so much. It never went away, no matter how much you tried to distract yourself by throwing yourself headfirst into work.

You took up more tasks despite the stinging twinge in your leg. You did more chores under the guise of letting fellow firelights take a break. Some meaningless and small, others bigger and more meaningful. Busying your mind so you didn’t have time to think too much.

And you took this task, especially, because you thought you could handle it.

You thought this would knock you out of your stupor, let you create again, out of respect for your fallen friend. Give yourself an outlet to let things be, let your mind be content, albeit in a melancholy way.

But the moment you stared into the blank space you were given to work with, all you could do was freeze.

One wrong move, and you’d fuck it up for good. One wrong stroke of a brush and a spray can would mess up the image of that friend.

And starting would ruin the blank space even more. It’d have marred the image you had in your mind, the one you needed to begin soon, lest you get sick from the rain. You didn’t want to mess it up.

You didn’t want to fuck it up.

You didn’t want to ruin the image of your friend.

The friend who you lost because the phantom pain in your leg grew too much to the point where it screwed up your footing on your hoverboard, made you swerve around an incoming bomb being thrown by a blue haired woman working for Silco, made you knock into your friend who lost their own balance and fell with a mind shattering scream, and then—

“Still haven’t started yet?”

Light thunder crackled in the distance, the rumbling amplified by your hyper vigilance.

Startled, you took in a sharp breath, and instantly turned to where you heard the voice from. You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath in. Your lungs were grateful for the intake of air.

On the wooden balcony below you, you caught sight of the main firelight leader. Ekko.

Arms crossed, eyes tired, head tilted in the usual way he did while regarding something he needed to comprehend. The twisted locks of his hair moved with his head, vibrant against the greyed out colors surrounding you both. Usually, the grounds and the walls surrounding the firelight hideout were more colorful. Today, the rain made it more somber.

“I…”, you tried to form a viable excuse. Whatever your words were caught on the tip of your tongue, and refused to make themselves known. Your eyes flitted back to the blank part of the mural, and back to Ekko.

You wondered if he’d understand.

“I. Can’t.”

Your words were stilted. Hesitant. They cut through the rain like a knife. Unsettled in the air.

Ekko straightened up ever so slightly. He dipped his head the slightest bit lower, with a blink and a raise of his brows. His dark brown eyes urged you to continue.

“I-I can’t—“, you repeated, arms dropping to your sides in defeat. Your thoughts were buzzing in your mind and you couldn’t stop the words from flowing in time. They tumbled out in a jumble you swore on you could comprehend, and your arms gesticulated as you paced on the creaking wood below your feet.

“—every time I try, I just. Can’t. And I need to do this, I have to. I promised I would. And I can’t stop thinking about what happened but I need that to stop, I have to do this because they’re my friend and I can’t fuck this up, I can’t ruin the image of them. And I can’t fucking—“

You kicked a paint can at your feet. It soured over the ground below you, and felt to the grass well below the balconies.

“—bring myself to pick up a single one of these paint cans.”

Ekko’s eyes followed the paint can while it fell. It hit the dirt below, and the distant thump was drowned out by the rain. He clicked his tongue, and sighed with a shake of his head.

You were angry. You were grieving. It’s not like he could tell you to stop, nor would he ever. Any and every Firelight knew what it was like. Seeing you like this, though - abound with ideas, but with no spark, no drive anymore…

It reminded him too much of himself.

He was a leader. The leader of the Firelights. He focused his time on making their hideout a home. Bit by bit, he picked up the broken pieces of Zaun. Did his best to, at the very least. The chembarons, Silco and Shimmer proved difficult, along with Piltover.

With all that work, and all that responsibility, it left him restless. Left him exhausted. Even with the help of Scar, his second hand man, and many others within the community he created, it still weighed him down. Every time he opened that journal of his, without the need of making a blueprint for a new gadget to create, without the need for a map for a plan, the pages were blank.

When he tried, those pages were ripped. Those pages were full of jagged lines, or crinkled up and tossed to some corner of his messy room. He’d stare at those pages for hours, head in his hands, and wonder where the hell his spark went.

When did he lose it?

How?

Ekko took a few steps forward, and pulled himself up to the platform above. With a grunt, he heaved over the wooden railing as carefully as he could. The rain made everything they stood on wet, and prone to slip on. When he stood up, and dusted his hands off, he got a clear look at you.

You forced out a sound, a mix between a scoff and a wry laugh. Ran a hand over your head, and pushed water droplets flat onto your hair. Tore your eyes away from where the paint can used to be, and back to the mural. “Been stuck for months. And the one damn time I need to create, for them—“

You sharply gestured your arm out to the blank spot - an eerie crème colored sight compared to the rest of the wall, save for a few cracks - and your voice trembled. Water droplets fell from your hand as it flicked away from the top of your head.

“Hey—”, Ekko reached a hand out, and rested it against the opposite arm that stayed at your side. He grasped your elbow, and gave it a gentle tug. It tore your attention away from the wall, and back onto him. His voice was calm, almost somber. “— C’mon.”

He took in a breath, and his other hand made a breathe-in motion. You followed in suit, the smell of petrichor invading your nose, air filling your lungs. The tension in your shoulders went tighter.

After a few seconds, Ekko slowly breathed out. You followed him, and the tightness in your muscles faded ever so slightly.

Once Ekko was sure you were calm enough, he scoffed out a small breath, and the corners of his mouth twitched up in a wry sort of smile. It was small, but it was there.

“I… get what you mean”, he started. His voice was in a softer tone. One you didn’t hear as often, compared to his ‘Leader Voice’. It blended into the ambient noise of the rain, yet it was perfectly clear for you. Never broke the calm like the thunder did.

“When I got good enough, I started this—” Ekko looked at the wall behind you, an old ache settling into the small pinch between his brows. “—the mural. Thought that since i the skills, I could put this up. Thought that I could make something good, make something to remember them by, for...”

He sighed through his nose. You followed his gaze, and landed on the portraits you’ve known for years. Six portraits. The oldest ones. The same style, the same paint, the same process.

All were Ekko’s. The people he knew, before the Firelights had become The Firelights. Before he had to grow up as quick as he did.

“… your family?”, you asked tentatively, to complete the sentence for him. Ekko hummed in acknowledgment, and the smallest hint of a smile grew on his face.

“Yeah. My family.”, another sigh, and his shoulders dropped when he looked up at the rest of the mural. “Back then I created so much. Started this tradition, whenever we lost someone. Helped to create so many things for us. For the Firelights. A lot like you did, when you first started here, y’know? But now—”

Your eyes met again.

“—you can’t even look at a blank page anymore.”, you finished. He gently squeezed your elbow, and your hand had instinctively found its way to rest against his forearm.

“You get it”, he nods. “So…”

He let go of your arm to lean down and grab a paint can. Your hand lingered against the arm of his jacket, the outside of it already littered with dark spots from the rain. When Ekko stood up, he shook the spray can at his side. The mix bearing hit against tin of the can, and mixed the paint up enough to be properly used. After that, he took your hand off of his arm, and turned it so that your palm was facing up. He placed the paint can into your hand.

“—Let’s just… Take things slow. See how things go from there, alright?”

The cool metal of the can soaked into the skin of your hand. Your fingers curled over it, and tightened their grip.

“I don’t want to fuck this up.”, you whispered.

The very thought of starting the portrait you dreaded to creeped up from the back of your mind. The cold seeped back into your spine. You wouldn’t say it out loud but it terrified you to the very depths of your being.

“You won’t.” Ekko’s voice broke through the anxious haze that began to cloud your head again. His hand remained on the other side of the paint can in your hand. A promise that he wouldn’t leave you alone. “I got you. Besides—“

He gestured to your leg. A reference to the injury. “—standing up here alone for hours at a time won’t be good for that leg of yours. Figured you need someone to help when you need to rest it.”

You gave him a weak smile. A small thank you for the thought. He wasn’t wrong. Standing for that long would hurt. However…

“It’s gonna make it real, Ekko.”, the tremor in your voice returned. Warmth stung behind your eyes. Warm tears, against the cold air. “Losing them.”

The tremor in your voice this time had finally broken it into pieces.

“I know.”, Ekko murmured. He definitely knew. “It’s gonna hurt for a long time. But this—“

He waved his hand towards the mural. “—is the first step to healing. I’m gonna be right there with you.”

You nodded, and wiped a stray tear that fell from the corner of your eye.

“Alright.”

Ekko moved his hand away from the can, and you walked forward. You stepped on the creaking wood of the step stool in front of the mural. The intimidating blank stretch of the concrete felt way larger than it appeared. But when you took a deep breath, and caught the encouraging nod of Ekko when he went to your side a little ways away, the tension fell away.

The rain pattered calmly behind you.

The cold didn’t sting as deep. Neither did the guilt.

You shook the can at your side again, and raised it up to the wall. You sniffed once, and exhaled a shaky breath.

One spray after another.

One shape formed into an ear. Another, a nose. Soon the eyes.

And soon, a face. A little extra help from Ekko turned that face into a person. Your friend.

Nothing was marred, nothing was ruined.

And for once, the world seemed a little less cruel.

[min-xie]

help i cant stop drawing fem neuvillette

[ohgreat-moretapes]

Hey Tim, my dad recently had a seizure and I wanna be able to comfort him...it really scared me and of course it scared him too and I figured you might know a good way to help me to comfort him? I'm sorry you have to go through stuff like that all the time I wish I could comfort you too...🫂

Everybody's situation is unique so you'll need to find what works for y'all personally of course, and that's just gonna come with time.

But that being said, I am certain what would mean the world to him is just simply spending time with him. I've had a lot of health scares in my life and a lot of those times I just wished someone was there by my side, not to take care of me, just to distract me and help pass the time while I was healing.

Board games, crafts (without sharp objects), getting into a podcast together, gardening, starting a collection of some kind... Fun little things like that can make such a big difference.

And that being said, don't forget to look after yourself too. If you feel like the stress is weighing on you too, you gotta make time for yourself and make sure your own needs are being met before doing things for others.

Take it day by day: drink water, eat healthy, avoid alcohol, and get some physical exercise when you can (extra points if it's something y'all can do together like pickleball or table tennis). I know everyone says this stuff but it really does help.

Here's to healing, we're in this together bud <3

-Tim

[peculiarbeauty-a]

hi guys ,

so i wanna be completely honest for a sec that i've been feeling super super weird being here and on my other blogs lately. i don't feel like i've had the same kind of drive. i've been trying to get through it and write and have a kickass time. i wanna be able to put myself into other hobbies though rn if that makes sense ?? and sometimes i can feel really overwhelmed like i have to look at follower numbers and i have to be present and i have to write or people won't wanna talk to me or be my friend anymore. and ??? i don't like that. i like to write when i want to and treat this as a hobby. i actually want to get into maybe painting and outdoor activities through a trainer maybe. go hiking more w/ my husband and stuff. there's a lot of things ?? i wanna do. and sometimes i feel this place takes up too much of my head , my heart , and just my time overall. and the worst part about it is , i can also feel REALLY depressed bc i will beat myself up for not being present. i'm such a people pleaser tbh. i try so hard to please others that i will stretch myself out far too much. i feel like everything might collapse if i'm not here. i don't like feeling like that. so i need a hiatus !!! i need some time to myself. to pursue other activities. to enjoy talking to my friends who aren't on tumblr too much if i'm honest.

i love all of you , you are so so cool . but i just cannot function rn the way i want to function. i don't even want to make these big ass promises bc i'm the type who will say things and then be writing two seconds later (but slap me if i do that pls. i need some peace of mind and being online is hard to get away from when you enjoy doing it) like , this place should not BE that serious. i have a job and actually I HAVE A JOB I AM HOPING TO GET THAT IS A HUUUUGE PROMOTION from the job i have now. so that's great yk ??? life is going on. i'm happy with my life. i just need to make decisions on what makes me happy and this just isn't right now.

[thewritersofdeceased]

im really bad at writing these little things before the official story thing ain't I? but recently, it snowed in my state so what better to way to get back into writing the outsiders x reader than small headcanons for them!!

The greaser boys x s/o who loves winter!

DARREL CURTIS

Darry prefers summertime all the way, it's too cold to do roofing in the winter.

But with an S/O who loves winter? He just wants to make sure they're warm.

If they're out in the snow too long, he's already preparing hot chocolate for them.

Of course, he enjoys the facts that Ponyboy and Sodapop enjoy being in the snow with them, but he gets worried about all of them getting sick

will take care of his s/o if they do get sick from the snow

SODAPOP CURTIS

Like Darry, Sodapop prefers the summertime! He doesn't own many jackets

But that doesn't mean he wouldn't play in the snow with his s/o! Sure, he'll get sick but he doesn't care!

He has so much fun with you! especially when it comes to snowball fights or even making snow angels!

after a while, he'd make his s/o come inside, mostly at night since he doesn't trust the SOCs to come around and start a snowball war.

PONYBOY CURTIS

Just like his older brothers, he isn't fond of the snow but he'll deal with it.

His S/O and him probably walk to school together, and it sometimes results with a snowball fight between the two.

He doesn't enjoy sitting on the snow mostly, it's way too damn cold.

And just like Sodapop, he doesn't wear jackets or own many so he always freezes..

JOHNNY CADE

Johnny's used to the colder weather so he doesn't have a problem with the snow

He'll sit with his s/o in the snow and watch them play, it'll just take a bit of time for him to actually play in the snow as well!

He'll definitely freeze a bit and complain, but who can blame him?

He also has never had hot chocolate- so, that's gonna have to be made for him.

DALLAS WINSTON

the biggest complainer in the world.

In other words, he absolutely HATES, no LOATHES, winter.

Winter pisses him off because he gets sick quickly and can't wear his leather jacket without freezing his ass off.

Complains ALL DAY LONG. LITERALLY ALL DAY.

STEVE RANDEL

like Dallas, hates it

He doesn't like the feeling of big poofy jackets, he just wants his vest

it also sucks for when he's working on cars, the ABSOLUTE worse.

makes good chicken soup for if you get sick outside though!

TWO BIT MATTHEWS

THE ONLY ONE WHO DOESN'T HATE THE SNOW!!

Becuase he has a little sister, he's used to going out into the snow with anyone!

Actually bundles up and goes out with you, going from snowball fights to snow angels, to making snowmen!

Two's the best man to ask whenever it's winter, doesn't matter how cold he gets!

[etdraconis]

( guys there's an iguana that's been sitting on our front door wreath since yesterday and still hasn't left or moved. i think he's stuck (don't think he's dead tho, he's still bright green... possibly just thawing out tho from yesterday) and i want to check on him but also don't want to get tail whipped by an iguana h e l p )

[godblooded]

so like… controversial opinion but… if you agree there should be more female muses or lesbians… uhh… write them?

[lazaruswitch]

Guy Gardner: sometimes nuisance, often great friend, forever ginger, former social worker and teacher, current Green Lantern and... father.

"What the fuck," says Kyle. He was pretty exhausted from his latest assignment, and hadn't even hit the showers or went to bed yet, so he probably misheard. Or was hallucinating.

"What, Jane?" says Hal, like that's a normal fucking thing to say when John suddenly starts talking about running into Guy's daughter.

"What."

"Jane, or RJ, whichever she says. You haven't met her yet?" he continues as he digs through a bag. "You're missing out Kyle, she's a killer cook. Smart girl too, got a massive scholarship when she got into NYU. Might've been top of her class? Aha!"

Here, Hal pulls out a bag of brownies and crows in victory. Kyle's headache only intensifies.

"Oh, life is so good to me sometimes. Kyle, I'd offer, but I value these more than my life, so you're going to have to do all the hard work yourself."

Whatever that means. Hal starts eating the brownies like he's reenacting a vaguely pornographic food commercial. Kyle grimaces and turns away to look at John.

"Since when did Guy have a daughter? I've never heard anything about her," he asks.

"I'm not too sure myself, but I imagine it's been a couple years now. She was about 16 when he took her in, if I'm remembering right," John answers mildly.

Kyle blanches at that because, well, again, what the fuck. It sounded like she was already out of college, or at least finished a degree. That was probably at least 5 years of her being around somewhere.

John must see something on his face, because he says, "We didn't find out ourselves for a while, and only by accident."

"Yeah," Hal adds, slightly muffled. "He'd gone radio silent after a mission, and we were worried 'cause he got pretty roughed up. So we show up at his place and whaddya know! Some teenage girl, and a redhead at that, answers the door with the nastiest look on her face. Thought she'd deck us, honestly. And then Guy rushes out - totally fine for the record - and nearly flips his shit at us."

John gives Hal an unimpressed look.

"Get cleaned up and rest, Kyle," he says. "You'll see Guy in a few days, you can ask him then. It's high time you met her anyway, considering her ring."

"Her what?"

[captainseamech]

//me at the beginning of the episode: ohhh a Gangle episode! She looks sooooo cute with that happy mask! And I dig the fast food vibes!

Me at the end:

[lususnatura]

[face-breaker]

me making settrigh more honey badger than wolverine + giving him an addiction to sugar & sweets + reading about how honey badgers actually do have a sweet tooth, hence their name

[mechahero]

//Hey, I really hate to do this during the holiday season but I've got a few adoptables here that I'll be selling as I really need the money for food.

Each adoptable is $10 USD and I've only got Cash.app as a purchase method! Please dm me if you're interested in purchasing! (Art under the cut below.)

[piningpercussionist]

(ooc)

Fellas. I may go Insane.

[tommyofspeed-a]

what if—and this is just a what if bc i’m still starting to consider— i end up moving tommy to a sideblog to my main blog ?