#A) snark is an art and most of you are not artists

[lustjunkiie]

oh, father! where art thou?

part one.

highschool au, long lost lovers, enemies to lovers if you squint, grumpy and sunshine-esque dynamics, simon riley & fem!reader.

cw) angst, use of 2nd person, allusions/vague depictions to intimacy eventually, drinking eventually, breakdowns, motherhood, simon riley is father, un-canon lore! all of it eventually

also! credits to the artists of the drawings and rendering used in the banner. they were reposted when i found them without credit, but i want to acknowledge them nonetheless. :(

also! to the one who started this all. @girl-lostconnection , everything i do , i do for you! entire thing inspired by this lovely person! :)

Simon Riley and committal didn’t exist in the same sentence. Not when he was a young lad — too underfed and too damn lanky with too many rough edges. Simon had never craved a permanent presence. As sad (and maybe a bit horrible) as it sounds, Simon wanted no one.

Even as his mother’s last wish was to meet her first daughter-in-law, and to meet her only son’s children.

I’m sorry, Tommy. She’d love you if she could bring herself to remember.

Even as he heard his mother’s last wish, he knew it was just another thing he couldn’t follow through with. Another thing he’d have chipping into his shoulder. I mean, Jesus, who’d want to marry and reproduce with the fucking freak that he is? Jesus.

So, at the ripe age of eighteen, after he’d buried his brother, and lost his father to the bottom of the bottle — like they’d never even fucking existed — he buried his mother.

Eleanor Riley. Gone too soon. Loving wife and mother.

Simon stared blankly as her body was lowered; the fact that he was the only one in attendance besides that fucking priest who will not stop talking burns like pure acid down Simon’s throat. Did she love no one? Was she loved by none, except this poor malnourished teenager, too stoic for his circumstances? Fuck.

Simon miraculously makes his way out of the cemetery, bile rising in his throat. His father was not home when he got there. Unsurprising.

Simon was unsure how to feel. But it seemed most logical to just . . . keep going?

And that, he did. He awoke to a silent home the next morning, all items untouched. His mother’s lipstick still on her wine glass in the sink. His father’s half empty bottle of scotch tipped over onto fabric, staining the couch. His brother’s room, unshaken by the sands of time. Toys strewn on the floor, action figures on the window sill, and comic books haphazardly strewn on the desk.

Let bygones be bygones, Simon.

Simon waited for the bus like normal. Well, like he usually would at this time of day. He didn’t even remember getting dressed.

When he got on the bus, he got nauseous again. Why was everyone looking like they knew? Like they were there, to see her blood dripping from the porcelain? Like they saw how Simon’s ribs were way too obvious to be normal? Like they knew where his father was? Fuck. There is suffering too terrible to name.

But he gets off the bus, and he’s aimlessly roaming the halls — trying to conjure where his first lesson was. Or, any lesson really.

And there you are, walking to orchestra. Dorky, round glasses perched on your nose and your violin clasped tightly in his hand. Buried in your own thoughts, just as Simon was, you two collide.

Your glasses fall onto the ground, clattering around somewhere and you clutch your violin case to yourself in the midst of the fall. Simon is almost unmoved by the collision, save for the backpack strap gone awry.

Apologize, Simon, you need to focus where you’re going. This wasn’t her fault, you were walking too fast and you need to apologize, hand her her glasses, Simon, do something. He thinks frantically.

“Seems like your glasses don’t work too well,” Simon snarks. No, not that something. He scolds himself for not apologizing or even handing you your glasses, and he doesn’t eat lunch that day to punish himself. Weeping over his own fucking lap in the bathroom. Grief is a fickle mistress.

But you are there. He saw your eyes when you stared up at him. Big, glossy and so beautifully colored. He couldn’t even describe it. And your cheeks. So pink, so full of embarrassment. And your legs as you leaned against the wall, trying to compose yourself. You are the sweetest girl in Year 11, and Simon has made a damn fool of himself.

Somehow, perhaps divine intervention, you find yourself at his lunch table a week later. And emphasis on his, because who would ever share a space with this man? You observe him, unabashedly, and ignore your friends as they give you strange looks because again, why are you sitting with him?

His eyes are sunken in, and he’s deathly pale. His arms are stick thin, and it’s a soul-crushing sight within itself. You roll him an apple. Why does he look so angry? You slide a granola bar across the table. His expression softens, but he is still apprehensive.

“Eat,” you order him. And disregarding what you’ve just said, he is sure you’ve spoken gospel with how soft your voice is. He shakes his head, however. Simon doesn’t take orders. He rolls the apple back to you, noticing your lack of any other food.

“Says you.” He says. But his voice is too gruff, and too weak for itself. He’s made a fool of himself again. You roll your eyes and roll the apple back.

“I’m fine. Eat.” You order again, but the bell for third lesson has rung and he’s gone. Leaving the fucking apple and the granola bar.

How will you ever get through to him?

You seem to answer your own question when you get to school thirty minutes earlier than usual, and you catch Simon smoking outside of the orchestra building. What the Hell?

You walk up to him, way too riled up for this early in the morning, and shove the granola bar against his chest.

“Look, I excused you runnin’ in’a me ‘cause maybe you were just zoned out. ‘N’ I excused your l’ttle snarky fucking comment ‘cause I felt bad for you, but don’t reject my food, mate. Bit disrespectful, innit?” You’re nearly as fucking British and Manchurian as he is.

Simon is almost bewildered. He takes the granola bar and shoves it into his pocket after a few beats of silence. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” he chuffs, stomping his cigarette beneath his ratty shoe. “I’ll go ‘n’ eat the blasted thing, yeah?” He says before walking off.

Unbelievable.

next part

[the-fab-fox]

I, personally, believe that Idia secretly is having the time of his life right now going up against Malleus.

There is just no fucking way that boy isn't a monsterfucker and been hella turned on by all the ob magical girl transformations. (If he saw a pic of them perchance if anyone snapped one)

And Malleus is ofc gonna be the best most fuckable monster—he means over blot mage, ofc—wait no. He gotta be real about this... Like fuck that... He definitely wants that dragon bussy.

And he's mad from what I saw.

He gonna go dick down that dragon's fat ass.

Okay horny post done.

If anyone wanna write me some Idia dicking down some dragon bussy (or art... Dun wanna leave all you lovely artists out lol

Idia dicking down some vintage dragon bussy.

Like litterally your mission, should you choose to accept, is the following:

Malleus opens up that door and rather than killing or otherwise attacking, they have a bit of a snark battle about the whole situation ("foreplay") before Idia mounts Malleus. That's really what all this was about anyway. He just really needed to get laid. I mean, he's like 178 years old and while that's the equivalent of a 17-18 year old in human years—if he's still a virgin, and that's very likely when you look at everything about him lbr. That would be quite a long time to not have had sex. But ofc now he knows he's old enough but damnit he doesn't really have friends and my definitely can't ask the one he wants to (Yuu) because he's inexperienced.

So really and truly this whole this was actually a ruse to get laid cause he wanna be dicked down. So bad. He need it.

Which fair.

Still don't condone his actions, but yeah

I get it.

(obviously I know that's not really the case. but come on. This is gold and you know it. 😏)

Alright. If any of your wanna write or draw for this, please tag me. I wanna see.

MINORS DNI. MINORS DNI. MINORS DNI. MINORS DNI.

[vanishedinvain]

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒'𝐋𝐋 𝐁𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐃𝐈𝐄

—𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞: 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥-𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader (but she doesn't show up yet, sorry lol)

summary: benedict's last moment of contentment before the storm that marooned his dreams.

warnings: very very brief mention of a gun, baby's first fic (it's me, i'm baby)

wc: 1.6k

next chapter // series masterlist

The Wiminet Art House sits just outside the limits of Mayfair, owned by the Dowager Baroness Lyra Wiminet. It is only half the size of a wing at Somerset House, and most of the artists are either anonymous or so unknown, they are as good as anonymous. It crams in an overwhelming number of pieces, barely a centimeter between each frame. It features a myriad of styles: soft landscapes, portraits, absurd finger-paintings, violent war scenes. 

When it first opened, every London newspaper dismissed it as the eccentricity of a widow, mad without a man to guide her. There was no cohesion, they said. Downright tasteless. Where was the class? The refinement? It was a laughingstock for all of two days before the ton moved on as they always did.

It was also Benedict Bridgerton’s most frequented gallery. And Eloise had no idea why.

“You have been here at least twenty times in the past year, and they have only changed a single painting,” Eloise pointed out on one of these trips. Though she did not prefer to visit the same blasted gallery with the same blasted paintings, it was more merciful than watching Daphne and their mother flit about the house searching for the perfect dress to secure a proposal from the Prussian prince.

Plus her brother promised to buy her an apricot ice afterwards.

“What could possibly be left to see?” she asked.

They were standing in front of a rather large seascape, one that spanned a quarter of the wall. Benedict turned away to look at Eloise, a grimace upon her face as she tried to see what her brother saw. It was a quality Benedict most appreciated in her; she was stubborn and quick to snark, but she never wrote off his interests as frivolous. She was attempting to understand, even if she was staring at the painting like it personally offended her.  

“Do you remember when you were eleven and Colin brought home that mystery novel for all of us? The one where an opera singer was killed in the middle of a show.”

“An Aria Most Deadly,” she recalled, smiling, “I couldn’t put it down. Col was scolded for bringing home such a—how did Mama word it?—terribly gruesome and improper book.”

He chuckled, remembering their mother’s scandalized face. As Colin was being scolded, she had set the book down on the settee. Eloise, ever nimble, snatched it and ran up to her room with nary a scuff across the floor.

“You re-read it over and over, looking for the clues, even after you’d finished it days prior. A snide comment from the stagehand that was once humorous turned dark. The author’s insistence on describing the location of the candelabra suddenly became obvious.”

“The details were so much clearer in hindsight,” she remarked.

“That is usually the privilege of hindsight.” He gestured back to the painting in front of them. “What do you see?”

She stared for a moment, tilting her head to one side to see if a change in angle would help. It was a turbulent scene, violent even, with outbursts of red and orange screaming amongst the cerulean and imposing slate clouds as the ship went down.

“A shipwreck?” Eloise answered with a shrug. “An unfortunately timed storm?”

Benedict stepped back, and grabbed Eloise by the shoulders, shifting her to the right so that she could stand in his place. “Do you see that spot of red on the ship?”

She squinted slightly. “Clearly, a fire broke out on the ship. Likely from the gunpowder catching on the wood. I mean, it says it in the title, Ship on Fire in Water,” she said, reading off the plaque underneath.

“But look closer at this spot of red at the front of the ship. Or that one by the captain’s quarters. Compare it to how the artist paints the flames,” Benedict insisted, gesturing to each area of interest. “He or she blends out the flames with orange and a bit of yellow usually. But these particular spots aren’t. They’re blended with brown. Maybe even a bit of black. That’s not fire, is it?”

Her eyebrows raised as the realization dawned on her. “It’s blood! Someone was killed. The captain, maybe?” She turned back to look at him in unbridled excitement at the newly-uncovered narrative.

Benedict smiled widely, crinkles forming around his eyes, watching his little sister finally get it, get him. “Possibly.”

“What do you think was the motive? Was it a mutiny?”

He shrugged. “That I am unsure of, dear sister. Every time I come back, I see something new. So, perhaps we need to look at it longer. Or make our rounds and come back with fresh eyes.”

Eloise had bounded off before he even finished.

They spent another two hours in the gallery, making little comments on each one, attempting to decipher a story from it. They even requested a step-ladder for the ones that had been skied because Benedict, having met Lady Wiminet, knew that there was no rhyme or reason as to the placement of each painting.

There was a most brilliant park scene about half a meter down from the ceiling. The artist did not draw a realistic, soft sunset, but a heightened one with punchy plums and a bright tangerine shade to blend. It was a bold choice that Benedict would’ve never thought of. The scene itself was of a promenade, much to Eloise’s displeasure, but she found amusement in mapping out the interpersonal relationships of the swans in the lake.

They made their way back to the bloodied, fiery ship shipwreck, standing in amicable silence before Eloise spoke.

“I understand it now. Why you've been here twenty times. Why you sketch until your fingers shake at dinner, but then use your drawings as fire kindle at night. You’re chasing greatness.”

“I want to get one of mine on these walls one day, El,” he said quietly, as if they weren’t the only people in the room. It was the first time he had admitted that ambition out loud.

“You will,” she replied, equally quiet back.

He sighed in relief. He wasn’t worried about Eloise’s reaction, though her vote of confidence was cherished. He was worried about being so unworthy that the words would refuse to roll off his tongue, lodging in his throat as a croak. But the idea was out there now, and a mirthful giddiness sprouted forth in the soil where his insecurities were rooted.

“I’d be anonymous, though,” he added after a pause.

She frowned, but neither of them made further comments on the subject. He already understood what she didn't verbalize. She dreaded living and dying in anonymity without a university degree or prolific novel attached to her name, something to outlast her that wasn’t a dullard husband or terrifying child. She could not stand the thought that the world might feel zero impact from her existence. 

Benedict, however, was far less eager to sign his name on a canvas. He could be displayed in any gallery in England if he simply asked, regardless of whether he was even good enough. Who would dare criticize a Bridgerton painting, with nine generations of viscounts breathing down their necks? If he were to ever put his name on any of his work, he wanted—needed—to be so good that everyone would be too awestruck by what was in front of them to check whose name was etched onto the little copper plaque beneath the frame.

This was one of the only points of incongruence between the second eldest Bridgerton brother and sister that couldn’t be remedied by a simple anecdote or shift to the right. Though, perhaps there was no need for one; a painter would never ask a writer to adjust her palette and a writer would never tell a painter his meter was off-tempo.

It was an afternoon well spent away from the ornery obligations of the social season, coming home with their appetites spoiled from the promised apricot ices. Benedict grabbed An Aria Most Deadly from the library, and read the first few chapters before retiring for the night. He’d finished the novel after he pried it away from Eloise years ago, so he knew it was the conductor who had killed the opera singer. This knowledge only pulled the deftly placed clues into crisp focus upon this second reading; even the first chapter was littered with hints.

Perhaps that is why when he sits in the viscount’s study, the one that was never supposed to go to him, he often thinks about the night of Granville’s party. That night began with him feeling so alive, more alive than he could ever fathom. Yet, it ended with a sinking stone of dread taking up a months-long residence in the pit of his stomach.

Were there clues he should’ve seen?

If he’d been less drunk off the wine or the women or both, he’d have noticed Daphne wasn’t wearing the necklace gifted to her by the prince, even though he clocked the ostentatious clunk of jewelry when she left for the Trowbridge Ball. Or that the hem of her dress was muddy and her face was pinched, on the verge of tears.

If he wasn’t so preoccupied with how to take advantage of his freedoms as the spare of the family, he’d have noticed the blooming violet bruises on Anthony’s knuckles as he yanked Benedict into the study with considerable force.

It wasn’t until he was rolling his shoulder, about to complain that his arm could've been popped out of its socket, when the gun box was placed on the desk with a resounding thud. 

Things only clicked into place as Anthony began frantically talking about estates and dowries and an appointment with the duke at dawn, but there were signs from the moment he walked in the door.

The details were always so much clearer in hindsight.

next chapter // series masterlist

a/n: they dropped new abc pictures last month, and i decided to make it everyone else's problem by starting this fic. now it’s bridgerton eve!!! rejoice!!!

[stxrry-dxys]

i said i wasn’t gonna say more on the whole watcher debacle but sorry i just have to talk about the ai art allegations cuz holy shit this is a massive oversight.

before going in i’d like to clarify that i don’t think steven, ryan, or shane personally implemented this BUT it was absolutely their responsibility to check over what their crew members put in their videos.

disclaimer that i did not personally find these, they were brought up through reddit threads on the snark and main subreddit.

this is the most egregious one. look at the hands. the unnatural length of the fingers. the NUMBER of fingers, the way the hands curl. that is not a mistake a human artists makes. and the way the clothes distort, the fact that one of the shirts looks like it has a finger hanging out of it. in what world is this not obviously computer generated.

this one is harder to notice, but pay attention to the bars on the boat, how they’re uneven, wobbly, some even stopping and starting up randomly. the boat’s reflection in the water does not reflect back the actual silhouette of the boat. the silhouettes of the people are harder to see but a lot of them look more like wonky blobs, though admittedly this part is rather weak.

this is the one i think i believe the least but am bringing it up anyways for posterity. the foot is wonky and the back one appears to be missing. his proportions are very off. and i cant say for certain but i seriously doubt a shadow would be that thin from this angle. this one is probably the weakest piece of evidence but feels relevant to include anyways.

there’s more i believe but it’s 3 am and i don’t wanna go personally hunting for it.

this isn’t even a new topic, people have brought it up in comments and threads in the past. and i know good and well this goes against morals that they have brought up before, so this is not quite the look you’d want. using ai art that steals from other creatives to claim as it’s own is not something i’d hope to see from a company that prides itself on being high quality art. it is entirely possible this is just the doing of someone on the art or editing team, but when one of your figureheads and his wife is openly against generative ai like this, you would expect quality control to ensure this never happens.

i hope they’ll speak up about this, and either prove that this isn’t the case or deal with whoever implemented this, though i’m doubtful they will. if they don’t address it and continue to use ai generated art then i hope everyone all has a long look at whether or not this company is as genuine in its passion for creativity as they have tried to appear.

honestly either way i don’t care, im done with these three’s content and have been for a while, but those of you still supporting deserve all the information you can as they proceed forward with this “plan” of theirs. make whatever decision you want regarding this, i wish you all the very best.

[threeadventurers]

A Ten Year Thank You Letter a.k.a Mickey's Long Ramble

I normally have something ready for the day of the anniversary. In fact, I actually got an idea to do something for today considering it has officially hit the double digits and deserved something spectacular, but life decided to kick me in the chest so what I had planned is ah... delayed.

So instead, for the time being, I'm going to express my thoughts and feelings. Because I'm a sentimental sap and if I can't express in art, I will in words.

As the story goes, ten years ago, Three Adventurers was, originally, suppose to be a one shot based on a dream I had. It was going to be about Link and Graham and how the former was travelling, briefly crossing through Daventry, and had a short adventure with the latter. Graham was then going to gift a scarf as a thank you and Link would have continued on.

Short, sweet, and to the point.

But as I opened the document, ready to work on this one shot, I felt it was too short. So on an impulse thought, and due to a current hyper-fixation, I tossed in Guybrush as someone to push the two further out than being heroic good guys.

After all, the trio had more commonalities than differences. A Venn diagram as I would constantly insist.

All three were heroic (to leveling degrees), used their wits to solve puzzles, and had the occasional snark (again, to leveling degrees).

More to that, having Guybrush thrown into something wasn't entirely new, as once upon a time when I was a kid, I imagined a what-if with Guybrush meeting Link (which, at the time, I didn't know who Guybrush was, I only ever knew him as 'the blond pirate Link') and them having a borderline rivalry.

(As you can see, the now playful rivalry never really went away, but the animosity absolutely vanished.)

Needless to say, it... grabbed me in a choke hold the more I thought about it. And those thoughts became doodles, occasional small fics here and there, and eventually it became what it is: The Three Adventurers.

A story about a trio of friends who go on adventures, learning to grow while discovering new things, getting stronger while also having moments of weakness and doubts but overcoming it because they had one another. And, of course, the occasional goofball antics and sprinkle of drama/angst for the heck of it.

A story I wanted to see since I was a kid. Because as much as I love stories of romance and daring rescue missions for those they love... I wanted to see the platonic approach. And these trio hit that scratch perfectly.

Granted, it initially was going to be a bunch of one-shot adventures with no tie in or overarching plot, just on the off-chance that the trio didn't interest me anymore, in case nobody really cared and I felt discouraged as artists and storytellers tend to do when there is no audience to grab and share.

I had my spite to drive me, and I still do to a terrifying degree, but sometimes the spite would dwindle to a "what's the point" which led to occasional artist's block and imposter syndrome.

But leave it to the trio to prove me absolutely and terribly wrong.

Because the interest never left. The story evolved. And they introduced me to all of you.

The Three Adventurers would not have continued as strong or as consistently were it not for any of you.

Because of Graham, I met the most amazing people in the King's Quest community who continue to find new things to explore within the series and inspire me to keep creating (and tackle Graham's hat... the bane of my existence).

Because of Guybrush, I was able to connect with the Monkey Island community... even if I don't speak all that often or at all. Getting the occasional reach out always startles me but simultaneously makes me happy to talk about the Mighty Pirate(tm).

Because of Link, he acted as the weird bridge between the two as for some, he was the common denominator that most people had in terms of recognizability. One may not know Guybrush or Graham, but they knew who Link was.

I'm always stunned and surprised when I hear from ya'll about the trio, about how one or two of them inspired ya'll to check the other's respective game, how the comic lightens the day, how the fic and ficlets resonated... always and consistently stunned and surprised even ten years later.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think something I did, even as nothing more than fanwork, would resonate with you all.

I cannot stress it enough how it means the world to me, especially during these times where finding motivation to pick up the pen is difficult due to personal events, where the imposter syndrome is at an all time high which leaves me feeling at my lowest, where finding time to work on it is borderline stressful, how ya'll reactions and feedback and motivation has me feeling like I'm floating on a cloud and sparks back that drive to keep going on.

It reminds me why I started this - it's a story I wanted to share and a story that somehow, someway, resonated with you all too.

I like to believe I grew as both a person and an artist because of the trio, but I know it would have never ever happened were it not for all of you.

Whether it's the occasional comments and reblogs...

Whether it's listening to me kvetch and grumble on pages, glitches, hats and beatsheets...

Whether it's the random reach outs to express how you all feel...

It gives me that drive alongside that useful and reliable spite.

I mean it when I say Three Adventurers probably would not have gotten far were it not for you all, and so from the bottom of my heart I want to express me deepest and most heartfelt thank you to you all.

Thank you for reading this fanwork.

Thank you for putting up with my sillies, the good and the bad.

Thank you for the comments and messages.

Thank you for sticking with me for these ten years.

Here's to more adventures with the trio!

With nothing but love and appreciation,

-Mickey

[mermaidsirennikita]

How many mangas you have on your collection?

Hmmm, it's probs easier for me to rattle it off lol

I have:

Wicked Intentions by Elizabeth Hoyt

Scandalous Desires by Elizabeth Hoyt

The Raven Prince by Elizabeth Hoyt

The Leopard Prince by Elizabeth Hoyt

Dreaming of You by Lisa Kleypas (which is split into two volumes)

It Happened One Autumn by Lisa Kleypas

Devil in Winter by Lisa Kleypas

Seduce Me at Sunrise by Lisa Kleypas

Married by Morning by Lisa Kleypas

The Pirate Prince by Gaelen Foley

Princess by Gaelen Foley

Prince Charming by Gaelen Foley

Shadowheart by Laura Kinsale

Soooo I guess if you split Dreaming of You into two I have 14? With.... 5 more on their way..... I struggle with impulse control and love collecting romance stuff, oops.

And not that you asked, but if I had to rank them in terms of quality....

Married by Morning. Definitely edits the story a good bit (they all do) but it's one of the sexier~ ones and the only one I have with like, a couple of full color pages. I have no idea why, but they're BEAUTIFUL.

Princess. Does an amazing job of capturing the incredible insanity of Darius and Serafina. Darius's hair is PERFECT. PERFECT. Maybe the hottest design tbh. Also one of the sexier ones! They did Daddy Lazar dirty tho.

Devil in Winter. Manga Sebastian is... pretty much exactly how I imagine Sebastian... So...

Dreaming of You. Beautifully dramatic Derek, love that it's two parts, Sara's design is perfection, the wintery vibes are *chef's kiss*

Scandalous Desires. Ponytail aside, the Mickey design is otherwise flawless, nails the snark, you can feel the like... chemistry? In the art? If that makes sense? Super well. And the baby is adorbs. Also! WINTER IS HERE! SO IS ASA! THEY'RE SEXY! I wish we'd gotten their books. :/

Shadowheart. Absolutely stunniiiiiing design. This has some pretty significant deviations (I mean, not surprised, but it goes beyond what you'd imagine they'd have to edit for Shadowheart) but Allegreto is PERFECT designwise and you get a lot of heavy villain vibes. The manga books are great for villain content.

It Happened One Autumn. Westcliff is constantly SWEATING in this one, which I find personally... hilarious. And accurate. Shockingly, they did NOT edit out the thing Lisa edited out of this book. It's pretty great.

Seduce Me at Sunrise. I mean, I think this manga for sure has its design issues with Cam and Kev, but tbh, they.... mirror Lisa's general issues with Cam and Kev. Love Win's design, love the kidnapping sequence, wish it was a bit sexier like MbM, but tbh it's overall really fun. And the baaaaaby stuff in the end is so cute.

The Leopard Prince. This is probably the most explicit one, and I think it captures Harry Pye's "... Oh.... no......" lust around Georgina really well. Very good.

The Raven Prince. Very much condensed lol, like very, but still gets a good handle on the story. And the Aphrodite's grotto drawing is... priceless

Prince Charming. This one has some real fun designs for the heroine's body (how.... can she possibly pass for a mysterious robber with those things bouncing around). That said, the scene where he pins her to the ground because he thinks she's the masked robber and there's TENSION is SO. PERFECT. FOR A ROMANCE NOVEL.

Wicked Intentions. Lol I love this one in a lot of ways, but I also find Temperance's design... artistically good but distractingly modern. The bangs! Caire's design is fun but not very sexy to me.

The Pirate Prince. I... HAVE.... SO MANY ISSUES.... Allegra looks like a child, it's not great, I'm honestly bummed that such a wild bodice ripper has such a subpar design. And it's kinda insane because Princess and Prince Charming look nOTHING like it.

[lucius-morningstar]

Archibald Vittorio

This is one character I actually forgot to introduce, and I want to stress this, He is not a child of Sir Pentious and Cherri Bomb, I was going to make him one but then I decided against it mostly because while he could pass off for it, he has his own vibe as his own person/soul. So I figure let's make him a sinner from a similar time. Let me start by saying the artist who created this design is named GalaxyPink17. So anyway let's begin, everyone say hello to Archibald Vittorio

This haughty perfectionist is someone who cares very little for playing around. He takes his work seriously and isn't the biggest fan of others who don't take things seriously. His best friend is his snake head who he named Phineas, which as sad as it was, he didn't really care. He was perfectly fine with it just being the two of them, however that changed when he met the most annoying woman on the planet. A Morningstar daughter by the name of Carmen, who if Archibald were to admit, was everything he could not stand in a person and if it were up to him he'd never speak to her again.. Unfortunately it was not up to him. Phineas took a liking to her snake Eden and as much as Archibald despised the woman, Phineas's feelings mattered too as much as he disliked that it did. Unfortunately Carmen had a similar mindset when it came to her snake as well, she liked her happy so they came to a rather poor agreement in his eyes. They'd tolerate each other for their sake. He will always tell you it was the worst deal he's ever made in his life but of course he'd grumble through it.

Thanks to the amazing artist stellaartist13 I got some art of one of my newest characters who I never got around to showing.

You recognize Carmen, if you don't then you will. For the owner of this lovely design is an creator I've done gift art for before.. That's right @albatrossright and Carmen and Eden is her creation. Carmen drives Archibald nuts. She hardly ever calls him by his full name. If lucky. What does she refer to him as. Archie-Boy Archer Short-stack Sir Snark Sir Archie (He will never admit he doesn't mind this one too much) Mr. Arch himself Snarchibald (He hates this name and not just for the poor grammar or how it sounds) Will they become a couple. I have no fucking idea in all honesty this was made as a joke post xD.

[wordrage]

PSA: Fandom is a Party, Not a Market

It's been a couple decades since I first entered fan spaces (fandom). Overall the experiences I've had within a fandom have been extremely positive! However, there is a behavior I had to unlearn through trial and error, what the unwritten rules are of how to conduct myself.

Here are some tips if you're new to interacting with fanworks within fandom:

Fanfic/Fanart is a gift.

The writer/artist created something and it's being shared to the fandom. If you appreciate and enjoyed the gift, tell them! Joy is meant to be shared, and being in a fandom means we're all here to celebrate a shared story or experience!

Comments/reblogs/likes/etc are all ways to say "thank you" to the artist or writer that took the time and effort to create and share their joy.

Think of fandom like a massive, ongoing party. People are coming and going, having chats and discussions about the book, show, movie, etc. on and off. You can walk around saying hi and join in on these open conversations.

Occasionally, someone goes up on stage to announce they are going to post a new piece of fanart on the wall for everyone to look at if they want. Everyone interested can make their way over to where the art is displayed by the artist and check it out.

Someone else announced they just put a new fic on the fanfic shelf. Everyone is over there reading and chatting about what they enjoyed with the writer and each other.

Just like in a real life party, if someone came over to any one of these groups unasked to start telling everyone why they dislike whatever is being talked about, it isn't going to be received positively. Some people might agree with you and join in, but most will see a person committing a social faux pas.

How Do I Return the Gift?

The polite and expected etiquette when coming across a fandom fic or fanart that you're not feeling is to either keep scrolling, or hit the back button. Don't like, don't read has been an age old saying in fandom, for good reason.

If the fanart or fanfic isn't to your taste, move on! There's no need or reason to tell the writer/artist you didn't like what they created. Unless you are specifically asked for constructive criticism by the writer or artist, your input is not needed nor asked for. To reiterate the above, fan creations shared are a gift. Just like if you received a gift you didn't like or want, especially one made by the gifter, would you immediately tell them all the reasons you don't like it? List reasons why they should rework it to your taste? Write critical "reviews" posted to sites like Tumblr, Goodreads, TikTok, etc. where the writer or artist can see them?

Why? What is your goal to do this? If the artist/writer didn't ask to be criticized, then you're doing the equivalent of telling someone that just wrote you a story or drew picture for you all the reasons it's bad. Who are you to decide what is good and bad?

How Will They Know They're Wrong?

Fandom means we are all here to celebrate something we all enjoy. You kill the mood of the party when you do things like complain how another fan's art failed to meet your expectations.

Also, please remember the artists and writers are fellow fans. Real human beings that put their time, effort, and a part of themselves in their work. Art is subjective, but there's a time and place to criticize that person, and at the public fandom party in front of everyone is not it.

Instead, form friendship's with fellow fans that share your tastes and are like-minded, and complain to them directly. Step out of the party into the yard for privacy and form a group chat where you can post your honest reactions. Run through the emotional reaction you're processing after seeing something you strongly dislike.

Warning: Unchecked snark and negativity can quickly turn toxic. Venting is fine, we all have to do it, but if you find your group space is only complaining about other people's fan works, or complaining about the people themselves, then maybe it's time to take a break and go home for a bit. Maybe go check out some other parties, or share your own fic/fanart.

Tag Responsibly

Lastly, if you're going to ignore everything above and continue to intrude at the party with toxicity, don't be a jerk and tag the fandom. Or ship. Or the creator's name. If people wanted your criticism, it would be asked for. Don't hurt someone's feelings because you wanted your 5 minutes of Internet fame.

[cnidarianrui]

psst can i rq some tiny shinonomes hcs???

OF COURSE~!! ^_−☆

Headcanons under the cut! Thank you for the ask, anon!!

...(i didn't know if you wanted headcanons of akito and ena separately, or together, so i did both! I hope you enjoy!!)

AKITO U・x・U

I personally headcanon Akito as a kid regressor, around 5-8 when he's little!! He is definitely a little brother regressor, even with people other than Ena! He just has little brother energy!

Secretly so clingy!!! It's not something he wants people to know, but when he's small and with someone he really trusts, he will always be close to them!!

With Vivid Bad Squad, he tries to hide when he's feeling a bit smaller than usual, but his partners are quite good at picking up on his small traits, and the slightest affection and care from them makes him the smallest boy!!!

Surprisingly picky when small. Carrots are obviously a big no-no, but it's hard to get the little guy to eat any veggies when he's small!! Why would you eat anything other than pancakes and cheesecakes?

Surprisingly, a great playmate!!! He gets along much better with people when he's small, and enjoys playing! With older regressors he can play sports, with smaller ones he can color and play pretend with!

ENA U^ェ^U

Like my headcanons for Akito's age, I believe Ena is a kid regressor, probably around age 6 on average! She maintains her pride even when she's small, standing firm on being a big girl when she's small, even though some petnames or sweet affection has her feeling so small!

Her artistic flair doesn't disappear when she regresses! However, her art makes a shift, from painting with brushes, to finger-painting! She makes the most beautiful pieces for her friends, being the talented little creator she is!

With Niigo meeting at 1 A.M., a little Ena struggles to stay awake for that meeting. There have been a few occasions of Ena regressing and falling asleep to the sounds of her friends voices on Nightcord, but it's so adorable to think about, how could they possibly mind?

The plushies in her room get the most use when she's little. If she is feeling lonely and can't chat with any of her friends, she has sleepovers with her plushies!! And, of course, she still enjoys selfies and photoshoots when little, so she can occasionally dress her plushies up and take photos with them to send to her friends!!! (they find these photos so cute)

We all know Ena is very stylish and aesthetic, caring about her appearance greatly, which carries over into her regressions! She loves playing dress up, having so much fun, being a pretty princess, a famous artist, a model, anything she can imagine while going through her closet!! ...she's a bit shy about this pastime, but she enjoys it so much!!!!

TOGETHER!!

You might not assume this from first impressions of the Shinonomes, but they are some of the cuddliest regressors ever!!! Playmates, caregivers, and especially eachother, they cuddle with all of them!! When the Shinonomes are small and sleepy, they cuddle up together with plushies and nap!!! They were a bit shy about it at first, but its grown into an important part of their bond when regressed.

Ena is occasionally quite whiny when she's little, wanting to play, color, cuddle, dress up, and being denied these fun activities only makes her whinier. Luckily, Akito, who I believe is an amazing playmate, is always up for it!! Anything for his big, or sometimes little, sis!

While there is some snark and argument in their relationship still, it is definitely muddled. Regressing is a very comfy, safe thing for them, and part of this comfort involves their happiness together. They play fight, wrestle a bit, horse around, but at the end of the day, the two siblings care about eachother deeply.

THANK YOU FOR READING, AND AS ALWAYS, HAVE A GREAT DAY, EVENING, AND NIGHT!!!!

[msweebyness]

MiracOlympus- Theatre Deities

Here’s the next batch of gods! The theater class! Enjoy! @artzychic27 @imsparky2002

Ayesha:

(Euphrosyne)

Goddess of joy and cheer

Can find a silver lining in any situation, negativity is a foreign concept

Personal cheerleader for any deity who needs it

Impossible not to smile around her

Great at talking people through their problems

Anthony:

(Thanatos)

God of death

Everything he says is morbid in some way, but he’s still a snark king

Only smiles around Jesse, otherwise he’s a dark cloud

Black Hair, black wings, black everything

SCARY when he’s mad

Jesse:

(Melpomene)

Muse of theater, specifically tragedy

Just as dramatic as his twin, Jean

Will start crying at the drop of a hat

Kind of a pessimist, worries a lot

Seeing him smile is a rare gift

Dot:

(Clio)

Muse of history and records

Keeps METICULOUS files of all happenings on Earth and Olympus

Can be a bit OCD about her records

Can recite an unbelievable amount of trivia

Can be persuaded to sing with her siblings

Petra:

(Iapetus)

Deity of Craft and artistic skill

Always working on some new project

Super critical of her own work

Loves visiting earth to find new materials

Can make anything into a fun art project

Roxie:

(Nemesis)

Godex of Retribution

Can be persuaded to forgive, but NEVER forgets

Believes very strongly in fairness and just punishment

Gives the most savage burns

Refuses to lose an argument

Candace:

(Eunomia)

Goddess of order and lawfulness

The Responsible One™️

Huge stickler for the rules of the divine order

Gets stressed when things go off course

Aggie, Alix and Ismael drive her up the wall

Brecken:

(Cybele)

God of wild creatures and nature

VERY protective of all wildlife

Sweet as a kitten with his friends and Evie

Doesn’t like being inside

Has some animal features, i.e. feline eyes, claws, etc.

Eri:

(Hecate)

Goddess of witchcraft and magic

Still gothic and theatrical as heck

Has a potion or spell for everything

Only likes to come out at night

Everyone is at least a little scared of her

Aggie:

(Atë)

Goddess of daring and impulse

Will NEVER turn down a dare

Harbinger of chaos

Giving the other gods heart attacks on the reg

Lacey’s parkour bestie

Margo:

(Eos)

Goddess of the dawn

Wakes up the world with encouragement and affection

Still a romantic, Rose’s matchmaking buddy

Biggest morning person ever

Dresses like the sunrise

Soo-Yeon:

(Eurus)

God of the east wind and fall weather

Quietest and most restrained of the winds

Still a nervous wreck, tbh

Tries to wrangle his fellow winds as best he can

Can be intense when it’s needed

Has wings like a falcon

Parker:

(Kratos)

Goddess of strength and fortitude

Can deadlift just about anything

Always up to fight for a good cause

Can be VERY stubborn

Best workout coach

Staci:

(Erebus)

Goddess of the ether and gloom

Emotions are impossible to read

Likes to hang out in the shadows

Still snarky like no other

Hangs in the Underworld most of the time

Evie:

(Erato)

Muse of song and lyric poetry

Voice so pure it will make you cry

Still very proper, but cuts loose when singing

Master of wrangling her siblings

Writes love songs for Brecken

Mona:

(Morpheus)

Deity of dreams

Half-awake 90% of the time

Things they say are confusing, but also profound

Cannot stop falling asleep

Keeps a dream journal for the whole world, great at interpretation

Eloise:

(Metis)

Goddess of prudence and deliberation

Consistent voice of reason on Olympus

Does complex math problems or puzzles to relax

Not the most versed in emotion, but a good listener

Always has at least three plans

Anais:

(Urania)

Muse of science and space

Spends hours locked in her lab, working on countless experiments

Never goes anywhere without their telescope

Infodumps about the periodic elements

Is very���intense when curious about something

Missy:

(Asclepius)

Goddess of health and medicine

Will punt any of her fellow deities if they’re not taking care of themselves

She cares, it’s just aggressively

Serves as Olympus’ doctor, nurse, physical therapist, nutritionist, etc.

Snarky, but it’s out of love

Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs!

[aeolianblues]

Realising. I have (/had) a lot of sympathy for NME, since they played a big part in shaping musical and pop culture, and crucially, I started reading NME in 2013. The things artists said about them being two-faced shits did not really resonate with my experience of reading the NME. I'd spent a decent amount of time over the years, watching people like Andrew Trendall do good, in-depth and considered interviews with artists, often video ones that are less easy to manipulate if you will, that actually treated musicians like complex, thinking, feeling human being trying to express themselves through art, and writers like Rhian Daly who wrote a lot of the news stuff pretty factually— none of the snark that accompanied every news story of the past. I was fairly sympathetic to their cries of no one supporting journalism anymore, and I was saddened by them going out of print in 2018, and I agree it's a hellish landscape for journalism in general; worse for a non-news, leisure magazine like a music mag. I was happy that they were coming back in any form at all, with those bi-monthly (every 2 months) magazine drops.

I realise now (after the Fontaines incident, which I thought was in extremely poor taste after they'd spent the week before that posting clips of Andrew's 30-minute interview recorded at Grian's house) that had I been reading NME even 5 years before I started, I might certainly have been in the chorus of people celebrating the publication's woes. They were fucking horrible. Particularly from the late 00s onwards, they just got more and more tabloid. They ragged on new bands repeatedly. If you looked a certain way, if you had certain sentimentality, they would eat you alive, even as any other infrastructure in place to give you a boost slowly fell apart.

I realise now that they were on the back foot. They were playing niceys because they knew that they got way more publicity out of doing a collaborative Instagram post with pink pantheress than she got out of it. They went down the tiktok artist discovery route, they branched into covering K-pop (notably, not in NME Asia, as they did with indie bands from Asia, but in the UK/global NME). All just finding the artists with the largest audience they could woo or at least expose their website advertisers to. BTS don't need the NME, their fans don't even read it. They are too busy compiling 'x weeks since BTS has been in the Spotify charts; stream BTS, army!!' charts on twitter. All BTS gets out of this is saying they've fulfilled UK/English language press obligations, and maybe hopefully exposed themselves to someone over age 35.

Then the Oasis reunion happened. 35 articles a day. And the minute they found an opening to rag out a new band, throw them to the dogs (Oasis fans over the age of 45), they did. Stirred up this shitstorm—the Fontaines 'controversy' is that their guitarist and bassist aren't Oasis fans. That's 'controversy'. That is the stupidest thing i've heard. They're allowed that opinion. To turn it into a focal point story also is to imply that this is a point we should take note of and cross-examine. I think they did Fontaines so fucking dirty, and it reminded me of why people were wary of these magazines in the first place. They wait until they have the moment and momentum to sell you out, and they do at the first chance. So distasteful.

So yeah, this felt like old-school NME bullshit. No wonder most millennials don't feel too kindly about them. Gen Z readers caught them at a low ebb.

I'm not saying burn them all down! I'm saying this culture and attitude still very much exists in journalism, dormant as it stays right now. Look at the tabloids.

[februaryfangfest]

Each week in the run-up to February Fangfest, we'll be spotlighting a different sub-pair/group within the Fanged Four, because your works (and our love) can be for those individual relationships too! We'll be sharing some fic and art that we adore which depict them, and hope you'll enjoy and go shower the creators in comments and kudos/likes!! And oh, hey, if it serves as propaganda for you to go create your own things? Win-win.

This week's spotlight is on the whole Fanged Four as a group, as well as various poly relationships among any three of them. Whether it's the original three prior to Spike's siring or after Darla's re-siring in modern day, or Angelus finding his way back home to Drusilla and Spike after his curse is broken, or even Darla with the kids after Angel is separated from them by a soul, any combination of these characters is ripe with passion and vulnerability, conflict and affection. With a history spanning centuries, every story of these complicated characters and their group dynamic has endless potential for exploration!

In this post, we’ll be sharing the delightful Fanged Four (and Fanged Threesome) works from 2024’s February Fangfest and Fanged Four Family Bingo. Enjoy! And don’t forget to leave a comment and kudos :D

Fanart

Title: Valentine's Feast Day Artist: genericaces Rating: Mature (Vampire Cuddle Pile, Bloody Affection, A Suggestion of Corpse Piles) Medium: Digital Art Summary: The gang enjoys a nap after a Valentine's Day of carnage.

Title: Family Portrait Artist: QueennHalloween Rating: Gen Audiences (Family Photos, Ruffled Trim and Jaunty Hats, Sepia Bonus) Medium: Digital Art Summary: The Fanged Four Family are ready to send out their Valentine's Greeting Cards

Fanfiction

Title: Blood, Salt, and Heartflesh Author: QueennHalloween Pairing: Fanged Four Rating: Explicit (Wibbly Wobbly Timey Wimey, A bloody great reunion, Blood and Gore and Sex Aplenty, Sex Magic, Slipping the word Childe in there as a treat) Length: 22,297 words Setting: BtVS Season One Summary: Spike and Drusilla ride into Sunnydale a season early; now a united front with Darla, they force Angel to have to make a choice on who's side he's on and where his heart really lies.

Title: Cupid Unchaste Author: vampbrat Pairing: Fanged Four Rating: Fanged Four, Explicit (Daddy Dom, Public Nudity, Corporal Punishment, Sex and Mentions of Vampires Being Vampires) Length: 5,509 words Setting: Victorian Summary: Angelus and Darla decide Spike must have a Grand Tour of Europe. They just have a little personal business to attend to along the way-- but Spike's feeling reluctant to help, so has to be convinced. A fool for love will go to great lengths on Valentine's Day-- but playing the role of Cupid is a bit much.

Title: Breathing Lessons Author: vampbrat Pairing: Fanged Four Rating: Explicit (Waterboarding, Vampire Fun With Breathplay, Femdom, Sprusilla Being Brats) Length: 3,002 words Setting: Victorian Summary: Darla usually leaves disciplinary measures up to Angelus but occasionally feels she needs to step in. A little drowning can be a calming factor for even the most recalcitrant brats.

Title: The Center of a Star Author: Harlow Pairing: Angel/Drusilla/Spike Rating: Mature (Crackfic, Zero Gravity Space Sex, Botanist!Angel, Fluff and Snark) Length: 1,202 words Setting: Sci Fi AU Summary: Angel, Spike, and Drusilla are on a research mission in deep space. With Angel as the science officer with a specialty in botany, Spike as the pilot, and Drusilla as the leader of the mission, things are going fairly well. And they all end up in a poly relationship. And Drusilla has big plans for their first Valentine's Day in space- there's no better way to celebrate their love.

Title: Welcome to the Family Author: Harlow Pairing: Angelus/Darla/Spike Rating: Explicit (First Times, Watersports, Shibari, Family Funtime Rituals) Length: 1,040 words Setting: 1880 Summary: Darla and Angelus welcome a newly sired William to the family. Properly.

Title: Fly Soup Author: SomeKindOfADeviant Pairing: Fanged Four Rating: Teen+ (Sickfic, Vampires Sweating, There's Only One Bed But They Aren't Enjoying Being Stuck There) Length: 586 words Setting: Victorian Summary: The family get into a little spot of bother.

Title: Principled Approach Author: SomeKindOfADeviant Pairing: Angelus/Spike/Drusilla Rating: Mature (Corporal Punishment and a little Humiliation as a treat, Brat Taming, Denial Isn't Just A River In Egypt) Length: 480 words Setting: Victorian Summary: Actions have consequences.

Title: Quality Time Author: Girlpire Pairing: Fanged Four Rating: Explicit (Come Inflation, Plugs and Rings, Sex Hex, Getting Exactly What You Asked For As Punishment, Sire Affection) Length: 2,534 words Setting: Victorian Summary: When Angelus is hexed by a newly-turned Spike to need to ejaculate every half hour, there's exactly one place it's all going, whether there's room in there or not.

Title: For My Toy Love Author: Girlpire Pairing: Spike/Drusilla/Angel Rating: Explicit (Macro/Micro, Giant Cock Worship, Sex and Magic, Pinneapple Allergies, Fluff and Smut, Drusilla the Bestest Borrower-Sized Vamp, A Smorgasboard of Adorableness) Length: 15,202 words Setting: A:tS Season Five Summary: Set during season five of AtS, Angel and Spike are in an established relationship with each other when Drusilla unexpectedly arrives on their doorstep in the pot of a mandarin tree. She is only six inches tall.

And as a bonus, because it's the last week before Fangfest begins... A little selfcest!

Title: Better Half/Worse Half Author: Harlow Pairing: Angel/Angelus Rating: Explicit (Extreme Dubcon, Sex and Toys, Bloodplay, Going And Fucking Oneself Quite Literally, Angel Being His Own Semi-Willing Captive) Length: 1,686 words Setting: Ambiguously A:tS Season Four Summary: Angelus figures out a way to split himself and Angel into separate bodies, and takes everything he wants from Angel.

[lovejustforaday]

2024 Year End List - #12

Seed of a Seed - Haley Heynderickx

Main Genres: Indie Folk

A decent sampling of: Americana

Haley Heynderickx has been on my list of artists I've been patiently waiting for years to drop a new record for a good long while now, though I hadn't necessarily realized it until I learned about the new record.

When last she dropped, it was her debut full-length, and I was a mildly depressed uni student that had discovered her music a few months later in the aftermath of two breakups in one year.

Needless to say, 2018's I Need To Start A Garden was a record that resonated with me in a year where I felt numb and fragile. Here was this folk artist, with this gorgeous voice, ever so slightly warbly, as if she had tears in her eyes with every note she sang, making these incredibly delicate folk mosaics all about her discontent and her isolation.

In particular, the arresting patterns of stillness and disruption that is "Show You a Body" was a track that, more than a few times, pulled me out of some of the darkest recesses of my own mind. I've now come to properly treasure this track, both for its impeccably captivating arrangement as well as the personal weight it holds for me.

After the debut, things got quiet with Haley Heynderickx's output. Six years came and went, and I had very much grown past that more tumultuous time in my life.

While I would not say I had forgotten about it, I do admit that I had not listened to the full length of Heynderickx's debut, or really any of its other tracks minus the aforementioned, for quite some time when I saw her new record pop up on my radar.

I decided to revisit the debut in anticipation of the new album, and found that my personal relationship to the record had morphed into what feels like an emotional time capsule that I had no idea that I had created. I was also reminded of just how much I loved that voice. Haley really might be one of the all-time folk vocalists for me. She has a way of articulating a lyric or a melody that is just so peculiar and graceful.

As for the artist herself, Haley Heynderickx is an American singer/songwriter and acoustic guitarist based out of Portland, Oregon. She began her love of music in her youth when she went to church, and then as a children's music teacher. However, her brand of folk music as an adult has a few too many expletives for a child, or any of the average church-goers that I know.

Haley apparently had almost considered moving away from being a recording artist in the six years leading up to this, having gone back to school to study herbalism and foraging, looking to retreat inward and get in touch with the natural world. And her proximity to nature through her studies can definitely be felt in the sophomore record.

Seed of a Seed has an even more organic, earthy sound compared to its predecessor. It's also a much warmer, all more comforting record - still somewhat solitary and fragile as the debut, but more in the sense that Haley is embracing being an introvert, and basking in the temporal beauty of the Earth, albeit not without a sense of snark. It's also a fairly brief record, like its predecessor, just a fleeting thirty five minutes that comes and goes quite easily.

True to its cover art, this record feels deep into the woods, well beyond the beaten-path. It is, in many ways, an escapist record, one that I very recently found is particularly effective to listen to in the dead of long bus commutes home from ugly parking lot wastelands in the dead of winter - provided your eyes are closed so you can really see the images she's conjuring. Just lay back, and allow the resplendent finger-plucking to take you away.

"Gemini", the opener, articulates this record's central themes most eloquently, with lyrics that personify Heynderickx's own intuitive drive to set fire to the mundane things in her life, abandon her stress, and just appreciate the small joys, describing a "woman in the corner" that periodically takes over aspects of her life. In particular, I adore the line about the woman making her "pull the fuck over just to stare a purple clover off the highway".

"Foxglove" is dirt road wandering Americana with a hop in its step. I very much feel the Autumn harvest season listening to this, and it sounds quite Appalachian despite the records basis in the west coast's ecology. Bound to make me long for pumpkin patches, plaid over-shirts, the smell of kindling, and rickety-looking scarecrows.

Just as I Need to Start a Garden had it's atmospherically stunning midpoint with "Show You a Body", Seed of a Seed has "Redwoods (Anxious God)". Now this is a track that really evokes what I imagine when I picture the forests of the Pacific Northwest - A towering cathedral of trees that makes everything feel shaded, protected, perfectly hidden away. Here, I am safe, amongst the grandiose thumping of the songs' folk percussion, warm cellos, progressive finger-plucking, and Haley's jovial melody. The chorus is exhilirating, like inhaling all of that forest air while tumbling downhill. Heynderickx's little "Hands on hips, humming bird clicks" line followed by her barely audible, actual tongue clicks is genuinely so charming. Bless this song, it's just what the doctor ordered.

"Sorry Fahey" is a humble tune, centered around voice and guitar with strings and horn accompaniment. The song is another piece about nostalgia and loss, but what's most fascinating is how Heynderickx chooses to convey its message, with irregular, pointed intonation that gives a sort of chipper "huh, who woulda thunk?" energy that is nevertheless all too poignant and bittersweet.

The rest of this largely blends together for me. Not a moment of this constitutes anything less than a lovely listen, though much of it manages to go by without much fanfare. But it's is a record that thrives in its beauty, so I don't really mind.

Moreover, Seed of a Seed reveals its greatest treasures in fleeting moments, rebelling against the endless gratifications in a world that has become fast, preferring to slow down and take in the glow of the sun and the scent of the morning dew. I suspect this one will grow on me even more with time. Haley Heynderickx has a way of getting into your head and heart with time, if her last record is any indication.

8/10

Highlights: "Reedwoods (Anxious God)", "Gemini", "Sorry Fahey", "Foxglove"

FOR FANS OF: Dragon New Warm Mountain... by Big Thief Designer by Aldous Harding Infamous Angel by Iris DeMent

[therosebunpost]

Fruity Domino Belt

Steve isn’t very artistic, but maybe that didn’t matter.

CW: An absolutely heinous pizza combo, and Steve being self deprecating about his art skills. Reader is often referred to with Fem pronouns and is called Bunny as a nickname. Her style is very distinctive, but other then that, she is written as inclusive as possible!

————

The next Saturday, Steve is over at the Munson trailer. A six pack in one hand, and a notepad in the other. It took him a while to come up with something he could make, something useful, but then he remembered your notepads. He's been able to communicate verbally just fine, but with his hearing going down the drain by the year and his migraines making it hard to think, let alone talk, he figured he might as well.

You open Eddie's door with a flourish. Your eyes were big, and shiny while pulling him inside where Eddie was already stretched out in the living room. He's got a tiny figurine in one hand and the world's smallest paint brush in the other.

"Geeze, Munson. Careful or else you'll start wearing glasses like me." Steve snarks to avoid focusing too much on the furrowed brow of concentration on Eddie's face. The delicate way he paints the tiny shield of the figurine. Something Steve hadn't thought Eddie could do.

"Look who finally showed up, and with beer! You're worming right into my heart here, Harrington." Eddie jokes, reaching over to grab a can before taking a guzzling sip. You have Steve sit in the middle of you and Eddie, so he's boxed in, not that he minds all that much. Sure, the floor wasn't all that comfortable, but he was too distracted by the two of you to care.

You have your project spread out before you. You had paint at the ready, the beads and dominos carefully laid out as well. There’s some wire and some other tools that he didn’t know the name of.

“So…your making a..?” Steve trails off, knowing that Eddie told him but forgetting all the while. Even before everything, he had a hard time remembering things, but now a days he found himself forgetting more then usual.

You didn’t seem to mind, though. ‘A fruit belt! Its based off my favorite fruits.’ He admired the doodle you made. “It’s cute.” He admits, wondering if he’ll ever see you wearing it. “Though…how are you gonna get it to go through the loops of your pants..?” He asked, eyeing the tiny metal eyelets dubiously.

Shaking your head, you flip to the next page. He watches the way the little puffball on your pen sways with the vigor of your writing. You probably had great essays, he thinks.

‘I have a lot of baggy shirts, and I thought this would cinch them in a bit. Plus, the idea is just cool!’

He nods, not really having any reason to disagree even if it wasn’t how he normally wore a belt. Though, fashion in general didn’t really make much sense to him. Most of his fashion advice just came from what his parents wanted, or what girls said he looked nice in.

A tap on the shoulder startles Steve. The former jock whirling around to look at Eddie, who jumps as well. “Shit! Hey, I just…did you hear me? Just now?” He asked, brows lifting as Steve stares at him blankly.

“I just…what did you bring to work on?” Eddie pointed out Steve’s little pad of paper. Steve hesitated, lightly drumming his fingers on the cardboard cover.

"...I..thought I could…color this. And stuff." He taps at the book. "I've been um, forgetting things a lot. Having a hard time…hearing." It felt weird to admit this to the couple, but then again, he might as well be truthful.

You perked up, scooping up your book and making a vague gesture towards his. You were smiling, and Steve's face was burning as you put two and two together.

"Yeah, it seemed to be really helping you, so…" He shrugged and Eddie's lips turned up into a slow smile. "Cool. What are you gonna paint on it?"

Steve paused, now faced uncertainty. "I…didn't get that far. This stuff isn't really my…wheelhouse?" He gazed at the cover, his artistic career over before it even began. Though it seems you weren't ready for that yet.

'well, what do you like?' You ask, turning towards him with raised eyebrows. 'that's what inspires me, along with my outfits or an accessory.'

Steve bites the inside of his cheek. He knew the answer, but was mindful of the company he was keeping right now. Eddie, 'throwing balls into laundry baskets' Munson was right next to him. But Eddie was eyeing him curiously, and you looked so eager to hear the answer…

“Maybe…some baseball, or basketball?” Steve admitted, ignoring the faint fizzle of disappointment when Eddie scoffed. You leaned over, shoving Eddie on the shoulder, much to the metalhead’s protest. You gave your boyfriend a glare, hands on your hips.

“Fine, fine, christ. What were you thinking exactly? Like, a hoop? Or a bunch of balls?” Eddie asked, gesturing with his hand while trying his best to not roll his eyes again. Steve shrugged, tapping at the cover. “Was thinking about a bat actually. Or maybe something water related?”

‘I think either of those sound really cool. I have stencils in case you wanna add one of the balls to it?’ You hand over the floppy plastic, and Steve chalked it up to the light but he was sure your cheeks tinged pink when your hands brushed his. You also handed him rulers, pens, and paint.

Vaguely he remembers going over colors in art class. Red and blue make purple, red and yellow make orange, blue and yellow make green. He looks at the paint in both your pallets, the colors swirled and mixed into a rainbow of shades and hues. He starts with blue first. His glob of paint was a bit too big, and it only got worse when he tried adding white to make it lighter.

Shifting to look between you two, his puddle of blue doesn’t seem to phase either of you, so he just starts painting. He loads his brush with tons of paint, slathering the front of his notebook with it until the entire thing was covered and oh no, why was it bending, shit, yours didn’t bend like this-

“Uh, you want me to grab a hair dryer? That’s gonna take years to dry otherwise.” Eddie cuts in, eyeing the globs of blue on the paint. The paint wasn’t even fully mixed, so streaks of white marbled the over saturated cardboard. It was kind of pretty, but not what Steve had planned. “Uh, sure, yeah. Thanks.”

Shifting in his spot, Steve stared at the mess with a sinking feeling. Honestly, he knew it probably wasn’t going to look great. Art really wasn’t his thing. He liked it, but he didn’t usually stare at a painting and feel some sort of desire to do the same thing. Usually it was just him trying to find the ‘meaning’ that Robin told him about. What meaning was there to find in a bowl of fruit other than pretty colors? The guy was probably hungry when painting it, maybe?

He felt a tap to his shoulder, his head shifting over to look at you. At the paintbrush in your hands. Your notebook is laid there, the length of your previous conversation with him growing and growing.

‘Paint goes a long way! Though trust me, I’ve also had that happen a ton of times. While you wait for it to dry, do you wanna paint some dominos with me? I have the paint mixed already. :)’

“Oh, yeah.”

Picking up the brush once again, Steve eyed the way you scooped up the paint. A much smaller blob then his previous one, and smoothed it over the ivory plastic. He follows your lead, frowning slightly as it doesnt come out as smooth as yours. Little bumps and lines of paint that looked similar to his old elementary projects. Still, it was kind of nice. Watching the color cover the once blank canvas. “How do you get yours so smooth?” He muttered, looking between your pieces.

You reach for your pad, pause at the paint on your fingers, before shaking your head and turning towards him fully. Gesturing with your hand for him to watch how you do it. He turns, shifting a bit as his knee bumps into yours. You grab another domino, your paintbrush dipping and grabbing a frankly minuscule amount of paint in his opinion. You slide the brush across the domino, and it makes those same bumpy ridges that were annoying him before. You smooth it out with your brush, laying it out with the others before grabbing yet another domino.

This time you scrape the sides of the brush, and the paint glides on smoothly this time, like it was dyed instead of painted. You smile and show him again, and again until you encourage him to pick up his brush and try it out. Honestly, he could understand the appeal once he managed to get that smooth stroke down. Kind of like when he really perfected his baseball swing to get that strong, nearly effortless looking glide.

You reacted a lot nicer than his coaches, though. Beaming at him, and nodding in praise as he kept painting. It wasn’t perfect and there were moments where the paint still beaded up or looked patchy, but you were proud of him. That counted for something. You didn’t remark on how he should have picked it up faster, or how this was easy shit and everybody else could have done it. Didn’t say he was stupid, or dumb. It was nice, really nice. Still, it’s not long before he remembers you’re going to be wearing this, whatever it came to be.

“Hey, if you uh…need to re-do any of mine, it’s fine, Y’know? I get it.” He murmurs after a few dominos. “They’re kinda patchy. Don’t look as good as yours.” And after all, it really was fine. He couldn’t blame you for it. You were probably just trying to give him something to do after he basically fucked up his notepad. There was no way that was going to dry with that much paint on it, he realizes that now. Now he was going to have to go home with it, probably ruined.

There was a moment where you looked between the two growing piles before shaking your head. ‘They look good, Steve. Once they dry, do you want to help me put on a second coat? I need to do the same for mine. Usually these need a few coats before they really look good.’

He glances at your work, and doesn’t really see what you mean, but hey, he kind of liked this painting thing. Might as well keep it going, even if he sucked. “Sure.”

Eddie finally came back with the dryer in hand. It’s an old, clunky thing that rattles when the metalhead moves. The plastic coating that protects the wire is worn in a few spots, but it roars to life when Eddie plugs it in. “Let’s leave it in the kitchen, yeah?” He offers, scooping up the gloopy book carefully. “While m’ in here, you hungry?? Could order pizza? What’ya say baby?” He calls, turning the dryer on before popping his head out to look at you.

Steve ignores the faint heat on his face at the thought of Eddie talking to him, like that. To the both of you really. Being his baby, your baby.

“Hey, Steve?”

Blinking, Steve snapped his head up. You both were staring at him, expectantly. He blinks again and Eddie makes a snorting noise. “Are you hungry, man? What do you like on your pizza?”

“Oh! Uh, anything. Whatever you guys want, don’t really care.”

"Anchovies with pineapple and mustard it is!"

Steve retched before he could stop himself. "What?"

"What, you said whatever we wanted? Felt like getting our special, right baby?" He grins over at you, and despite your wrinkling nose you nod with a smile. Though Steve rolled his eyes.

"There is no fucking way you actually eat that." Steve deadpanned, stabbing towards him with the end of his paint brush. "Hell, ten bucks says you'll both puke."

"You're on!"

You sit up in your seat, suddenly a lot less amused. You hold your finger up to Steve, indicating you needed a minute before hurrying after your boyfriend. Steve can't help the smile crossing his lips as he hears Eddie laughing and apologizing in the kitchen. Not even trying to hide it.

"I was just calling his bluff Bun, I'll eat it, okay?"

Eddie's voice dipped softer to where Steve couldn't hear him anymore. He hesitated before slowly leaning over to peer at the couple.

Eddie has his hands cupped over your cheeks, thumbs brushing the soft skin. He has such a soft smile, and his eyes are like liquid chocolate when it comes to looking at you. You're brushing his hair away from his face, caressing his temple, adorable pout still on your face even with the tender gesture.

God, Steve didn't know who he wanted to be more at that moment. Get to feel your sweet touch, or to feel Eddie's? Or maybe he could get both, be boxed in between you two again.

Steve startles when Eddie catches his eye. There's a glint in his and Steve leans back with a panicked grunt. Oh fuck, he hadn't gotten caught as of yet, and he wasn't sure what would happen if they did. Could he handle it?

"Alright, pizza's ordered Steve!" Eddie called from the kitchen, leaving the jock to let out a sigh.

-

Three pizza's ended up coming to the munson trailer. The anchovy and pineapple was at the top, looking just as gross. Eddie made a point to squeeze the mustard upon it artfully, a gleeful grin on his lips upon seeing Steve's mouth turn down in displeasure.

"Don't worry, we got some others too, in case you truly don't want this masterpiece." Eddie teases, nodding towards the boxes. You were already digging into one of the boxes, a gleeful smile on your face. Steve settles on the third box, pepperoni and cheese.

"Okay, I'm changing the bet, twenty five bucks says you won't make it through the first slice." Steve shoots back, narrowing his eyes.

"Seventy five, and I'll eat half in one sitting."

"A hundred if you eat that whole thing."

Eddie's eyes widened for a moment before he let out a small scoff before offering a hand. "Deal, hope you got that sweet dough in the pocket of those tight jeans of yours."

Feeling heat crawling up his neck, Steve reaches out and clasps Eddie's hand. "Don't worry about that, man. Just focus on that shit you call pizza."

The doorbell rings a second time, and Robin steps in with a rush of apologies. “I’m so sorry, I got side tracked, and I didn’t know what to bring- Oh my god what is that-“

While you’re explaining to Robin the unfortunate bet, Steve offers a wave before going back to painting. Slowly dragging the color across until it was smoothly covered. He watched the way Eddie gobbled at his pizza, suppressing his laugh the entire time.

Robin soon plopped down across from him, and maybe you were just as opportunistic as Eddie, because you also eagerly suggested she help paint the dominos. “Sure! Though, it probably won’t end up good. Whenever I paint, I either use too much paint or too little and it looks patchy..”

“I can help, here.”

Steve wasn’t sure why he offered, but soon ended up showing her the technique you had. Robin caught on pretty quick, which he expected, and soon it was a small circle of painting.

“Didn’t know you painted, Dingus.” Robin comments with a smile, gently nudging him and Steve shrugs. “Not really, had a good teacher.” He turns to look over at you, and he adores the bashful look on your face. He could absolutely get used to seeing it more often.

——-

-

Taglist: @ali-r3n (DM if you wanna be added!)

[robo-dino-puppy]

10 Fandoms, 10 Characters, 10 Tags

thank you for the tag @bluntblade! (i'm embarrassed this took me so long. also i've never been good at ranking things so uh don't consider this list in order of most favorite or anything)

Donna Noble (Doctor Who)

Character I think about if I'm having a bad day <3 This scene between the windows in Partners in Crime never fails to cheer me up. Also: "You're not mating with me, sunshine!" Theeeeee best platonic relationship with the Doctor IMO.

Varl (Horizon)

Aloy did not appreciate this good dude nearly enough. I want Varl to be my BFF. T_T But HFW happened and... I won't say too much about that or we'd be here all day. He's alive in my head and that's all that matters.

Cimorene (The Enchanted Forest Chronicles)

Cimorene! She's no-nonsense and clever. She wasn't a fan of being treated like a princess so she went and "got captured by" a dragon so people would stop bothering her, and helps her cook and organize her library. I mean, goals.

Loki (MCU)

I wasn't into the MCU when it started getting big, and in fact I didn't see any of the movies until I read someone on Tumblr (c. 2012) going on about (paraphrased) how awful it was that people liked Loki because he was the absolute worst and if you liked him you were a gross immoral person and you should feel bad. So I went and watched this Avengers movie everyone was talking about. And guess what haters? He is terrible and I love him.

Parker (Leverage)

Although I am not brave enough to throw myself off buildings, sometimes I amuse myself by thinking "what would Parker do?" and since a canonical option involves stabbing someone who's bothering her with a fork and jumping out a window, the thought cheers me up even if I can't do that.

Aziraphale (Good Omens)

He just wants people (aside from Crowley) to leave him alone in his bookshop. He never fits in with his "side" but tries to do what they want anyway, because that's the good thing to do, and he wants to be good. I can relate so hard, buddy.

Milo Thatch (Atlantis: The Lost Empire)

Ok so... I totally had a crush on Michael J. Fox and I was already interested in linguistics back when this movie came out, and then here's a main character voiced by him who was a linguist! Milo had to be my favorite :D

Elena Fisher (Uncharted)

I will fully admit that some of my initial love of Elena came from her AI covering my panic-flailing self early on in the first Uncharted game (I'm THE WORST at games with guns, even on easy, it's actually embarrassing) - but she impressed me right away when she was not overly impressed by Nate. And her snark game is on point.

Zeb (Star Wars Rebels)

I feel like Zeb needs more love. Comic relief character who actually has an unbelievably tragic backstory! And his story has so much untapped potential! We never really get to explore what happened with Lasan, and then then dump Kallus in there with his defection to the Rebellion and his whole *handwaves* history with the Lasats and eventual apparent (b)romance with Zeb - and the show had so little to say about it! Huge angsty storytelling miss right there. (Dave why.)

Brian Finch (Limitless [2015])

This dude! Lovable but he would be SO exasperating to deal with IRL. His arts-and-craftiness just resonated with me. He was always making stuff out of toothpicks and yarn and papier mâché and clay and and and- I'm still mad this show only got one season.

zero-pressure tags: @mari-mary, @ayaitch, @hannahmationstudios, @inomakani, @fogsblue, @nerd-artist, @singingkestrel, @prototypelq, @tjerra14, @artekai or just consider yourself tagged if you want to do it!

[alterrune]

The following is the 4th recorded audio tape from Killer Laurence during his incarceration in his universe before his escape:

You want to know what it means to be a killer? You ever been to the art museum downtown? They got this painting by a guy... I forget his name. Famous painter. He did portraits of slaughtered cows hanging on hooks.

You take a normal person to a slaughterhouse, and more often than not, they will puke their guts out. You make it into a painting, and suddenly it's art. There's no difference between the two. Not really.

Don't look at me like that. You know I'm right. You get it. I know you get it. You got to do something that matters. Make people feel something they've never felt before. Shatter the illusion that any of us are really in control. Think of the most profound thing you've ever done... the most beautiful thing you've ever created... and I promise you...

It's nothing compared to watching the life bleed out of someone. To see the fear in their eyes, to feel them pawing at you for release, to hear them pleading — begging... That moment, when someone realizes they are at their end... that's when you feel it.

That's true art. That's what you have to be — an artist... a sculptor... an architect.

Bare hands can feel good, huh? But the blade makes for such a prettier picture. Everyone's got potential... if they truly want to be an artist.

This just gets worse and worse...

Mmmm...oh man, was this the hotel's catering back in reality, Kyle?

(We just finished taking a dip in the pool, and are now having some lunch before we head out the rest of Clifton Hill, including Ballway Arcade and the African Lion Safari location. Alter is indulging in the hotel resturaunt area.)

I don't remember what the hotel even looked like, Alter. Aside from some vague memories of the swimming pool, which I accurately tried to recreate there, I just made something grandiose as hell.

Great. Hey, Vi? You're not going to drink like you did at room's minibar, are you?

No, don't worry. Vomiting like that actually physically hurt me. Believe me, I do NOT want to go through that again.

Oh yeah, as for Killer Laurence...yeah, no doubt he's lost his marbles. But, from what we've seen, he at least he seems to at least somewhat be like our Laurence. Psychopathic, megalomaniacal, and a serial killer, yes, but he still has Laurence's snark and sense of humor.

Yeah. Unlike Malice Lily, Killer Laurence seems to have at least some connection to reality.

Even more so after she cured him of that schizophrenia issue he suffered from.

We'll stop those two when we get the chance. But for now...

...who's ready for Ballway Arcade?

(After a rousing shout of "WE ARE!", and making sure we have our things, we all head out to Clifton Hill, with our first stop being the huge Ballway Arcade. This is gonna be fun!)