#Cloud and Tree Artwork Case

[aboelkhair]

Nature-Inspired Tough Phone Case with Tree and Cloud Design

Product features - Durable Lexan plastic for strong protection - Lay-flat bezel prevents screen scratches - Shock-absorbing flexible rubber liner - Glossy finish enhances design visuals - Supports wireless charging compatibility

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[lunememes]

🌙 * ― 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 ( a collection of various settings for drabbles or prompts, or both! )

001. a tattoo parlour, buzzing with machinery and walls lined with artwork . 002. a shopping mall, crowded and loud . 003. a cabin in the mountains, taking shelter from the snow storm. 004. an abandoned tea party, occupied with broken dolls . 005. the shooting range, empty casings clinking on the floor and sulphur in the air . 006. a music room, filled with melodies of an instrument . 007. an empty auto shop, hood of a car left open and quiet music coming through speakers . 008. a bright arcade, coins falling from machines and claws grabbing at soft toys . 009. the kennels, filled with barking dogs and excited companions . 010. a restaurant, where everyone is eerily quiet and staff are overly friendly . 011. a riding arena, with trained riders atop proud horses . 012. a mini golf course, sails of a windmill obscuring the path ahead . 013. a zoo, filled with an array of unique animals . 014. the docks of a bay, boats lining the decks . 015. a pond with ducks, seeking food . 016. a museum, displaying ancient bones and pottery of a history long ago . 017. a closed down prison, ghosts of violent history echoing in empty cells . 018. a quiet train station, lights overhead flickering and announcement board displaying errors . 019. the vast desert, scorching heat baring down at high noon . 020. the dark woods, filled with strange hanging symbols made of sticks . 021. a deep hole in the ground, covered by leaves and sticks . 022. a wishing fountain, base lined with copper coins of past wishes . 023. an abandoned picnic in an empty field, flask still warm with coffee . 024. a barn filled with hay and tools, old wood creaking in the wind . 025. a graveyard in the dead of night, wind howling through the trees . 026. a crumbling bridge above a raging river . 027. the refreshing waters of a lake, away from prying eyes . 028. the crossroads, in the middle of nowhere . 029. a cosy bonfire at summer camp, marshmallows roasting on the fire . 030. the top of a radio tower, with the perfect view of the surrounding area . 031. a lone phone box on a street corner . 032. a large elaborate temple dedicated to a deity, offerings still intact . 033. a drive-in movie theatre, cars empty and projector casting only light onto the screen . 034. a strange trail of breadcrumbs on a woodland path . 035. a haunted mansion, ancient paintings watching every footstep . 036. a decrepit mine located out in the hills, believed by locals to have a powerful curse cast upon it . 037. the edge of a cliff, overlooking the rough waves and distant sounds of approaching danger . 038. a road trip across country, music blaring through speakers . 039. a flower shop, filled with bouquets and a sweet aroma . 040. an airport in the early hours of the morning, deprived of sleep . 041. a train on its way to its destination, a sleeping passenger resting on a shoulder . 042. an abandoned shack filled with strange books of the occult and something mysterious bubbling on the stove . 043. an empty throne room, moonlight glimmering through tall windows . 044. an underwater tunnel in an aquarium, fish swimming overhead and sharks looming in the distance . 045. deep within unmarked cave located in the side of a mountain, lit only by a flare . 046. the dusty streets of a western town, watched by wary residents . 047. the back of a vast library, surrounded by books, when a black book falls from the highest shelf . 048. a room of an asylum, an abandoned camcorder left in the middle of the room . 049. the shores of an unknown beach, washed up from the ocean . 050. the deck of an unsteady ship, waves crashing against the haul and rain lashing down from dark clouds .

[journeytodrawiii]

Day five of @kay-m-sinc's writing challenge: Saved or Saviour?

The two artworks are: Lull - Pete Sherrard and House Dog - Brian Kershisnik

Frost licked the edges of windowpanes and a thin layer of powdered sugar like snow coated the grass. A cold-whetted wind whistled through the naked branches of the winter trees. Gently, from far off, the whisper of cars passing each other faded towards Ada. She stood in front of a large, metal building. It was shaped like a T. The facade stretched upward, corrugated metal sheets making it seem much taller than it was. She turned over a piece of lint in her pockets and grimaced at the nearly brutalist sight of the building. Unwelcoming. Ada sighed, watched her breath drift into the sky and shuffled towards the yellow light spilling from the door. Stepping in, the warm settled on her skin; tingling softly, like tiny brushes tickling at her cheeks. Her nose began to run and she pulled a tissue from her pocket.

"Good afternoon. How can I help?" A middle aged man chimed from behind the shabby front desk. Ada glanced over the blue, plastic chairs that made up a waiting room of sorts and the framed pictures of happy dogs that lined the walls.

"Um," She approached him, placing her reddened fingertips on the glass counter, "Yes. I would like to see your dogs." Ada stated, smiling lightly, out of courtesy. The man looked her up and down, clacked on his keyboard and settled his gaze back on her. A smile warmed his creased face.

"I can help you with that. We keep them in the back, down the hall." He ran a speckled hand through his salt and pepper hair and straightened his little, laminated name tag before slinking out from behind the desk. Herr Bretz.

"Thank you, Herr Bretz." Ada spoke, a tart taste in her mouth. Her hands trembled, just slightly.

"Follow me, I'll show you our lovely, little residents." He tittered, "Although, not all of them are little; in case you're looking for a large friend. We have plenty of big dogs housed here too." Ada's boots squeaked as she scuttled behind the speedy steps of Bretz. The keys on his belt jingled as he strode onwards. Sterile lights beamed down through metal, grated coverings. Clinical. A shiver passed down the length of Ada's spine.

"I know we don't look too homey, but we try to make the best with what we have." He insisted, sensing Ada's unforgiving glare speckling itself across the dull walls.

"We're low on funding these days." He looked back as they approached a door.

"I know what that's like." Ada added, a cynical snort pushing through her. Herr Bretz jangled his keys, fumbling to open the door.

"Jetzt," He chimed, creaking the door open, "Have a look. If you see anyone you want to single out, come let me know." Leaving a firm handshake pressed into Ada's palm, he turned away and jingled off into the distance. She was greeted with barking and whining. The sound of claws clacking about on laminated flooring. She breathed in and set off, slowly wending her way through the hall. As she laid her eyes upon each new, furry face she looked for familiarity; she looked for a friend in whom she could confide. The wet eyes of a sad beagle, the pink nose of a speckled mutt. Greeted by wagging tails and wiggling bodies she felt a sense of profound sadness wash over her. She couldn't take them all. There seemed to be at least twenty. Twenty dogs wouldn't fit in her apartment. Oh, and the bills.

Then, she stopped. The rock in her stomach dissolved. Before her, behind the wire gate, stood a timid terrier. A west highland terrier, with fur as white as a summer's day cloud; just about as soft too. Polite, the dog slunk slowly towards Ada. She placed her hand up against their barrier and felt the wet nose press gently against her hand. A firm wag of her tail. Heidi. Her chart said that she was six years old, and that she had been rescued from an abusive household. Little Heidi was afraid of men and people wearing hats, she didn't like baths too much and she loved chicken and whipped cream. Ada giggled as Heidi pushed her pink, velvety tongue through the gate.

"I'll be right back." Ada ensured, bounding back to the front desk.

"Herr Bretz? Herr Bretz! I found her." She chimed, panting.

"You lost your dog?" He inquired, placing his hand on his chest.

"No, no. I... I just found exactly the type of dog I was looking for." Ada beamed. "A friend." Bretz grinned, scratching at his stubbly chin. He clacked at his keyboard.

"What was her name?"

"Heidi. She's a uh, a little white terrier. Highland. West, high-"

"Ah Heidi." He cooed, his eyes glinting with remembrance. He took up his glasses from the desk and began typing away some more.

"She is a rescue, from an unsafe home." He stated. "It might take her a while to get settled." Ada shook her head and smiled, her cheeks warm. She tapped her fingernails on the glass of the desk.

"I read. Afraid of men."

"And hats." Herr Bretz added, quickly.

"Yes, hats. But I recognise myself in her eyes. Not just my actual reflection, but in her spirit." Ada professed, adjusting her scarf. "I just left my husband." Herr Bretz's expression diluted into one of surprise; his eyes widened and his face grew paler.

"He isn't a good man. I think Heidi would get it. I need a companion. I think she would get it." Ada added. Colour returned to Bretz's face, his smile fading back in.

"Yes, she would." He reached across the desk and stroked Ada's arm. "You're good for wanting to take Heidi home; for rescuing her."

"Well, I'm not quite so sure who's saving who here... but I know that I will take care of her."

[shelandsorcery]

had an excuse to list a few physical books I love for furthering your art practice

so it seemed worthwhile to crosspost in case anyone else was interested!

For just getting the painting-studies-from-life fire lit under you, I recommend Hawthorne on Painting : https://store.doverpublications.com/0486318745.html -- it's a collection of lecture notes from the cape cod school of art, and there's no pictures, and that seems so counter-intuitive, but the sheer passion for light and colour that shines through honestly is really inspiring. The core concept I took from it is that a painting study doesn't require expert knowledge of anatomy, perspective, structure etc; just a passion for seeing colour, and then putting the right colour down in the right shaped mark in the right place; a simple and infinitely difficult skill to learn and a great way to get out of your own head when the subject matter feels overwhelming. It's a very affordable little pocket-sized book and you can likely track down a used version as it's been a classic for a long time.

For more visual instruction, another classic-and-affordable book I have used to the point of disrepair is Jack Hamm's Drawing Scenery: Landscapes and Seascapes : https://www.penguinrandomhouse.ca/books/352897/drawing-scenery-seascapes-and-landscapes-by-jack-hamm/9780399508066 -- it starts with the bare bones of composition, but it goes into amazing detail on all sorts of elements of scenery from trees to skies to lighting and more. I keep his spread of Types of Clouds bookmarked for easy reference!

And for the fun of discovery and clear, direct instruction, I've really liked the Think When You Draw books : http://theetheringtonbrothers.blogspot.com/ -- while this isn't my personal visual style, they have such great, punchy, memorable instruction on such a huge, wide array of subjects, it's been a great tool to get me over the "okay but cars/bikes/horses/spaceships are HARD" etc threshold!

And finally for figure drawing, the book that really unlocked drawing people for me was Ron Tiner's Figure Drawing Without a Model : https://www.scribd.com/doc/103174602/Ron-Tiner-Figure-Drawing-Without-a-Model -- he covers a few different mental models of the figure to help build it from the ground up in your mind, and he connects these models very clearly to real life anatomy, drawing from life, and character design. Again, not a visual style I personally pursue, but immensely useful concepts that I still use today, 24 or so years after I first read this book, whenever I draw without a reference.

And I always recommend hitting up a used bookshop or two for some collections of art that inspires you -- even if it isn't your chosen medium, or subject matter, or style, if it gets your brain running then why not spend some time with it and see what you can get out of the book? Personally I always come back to my collections of Frank Frazetta, Rodney Matthews, Edward Hopper, Gian Lorenzo Bernini, and Caravaggio artwork, and most of those were random used bookshop discoveries.

Hope there's something interesting amongst this list for you, and please reply/repost with your favs as well!

[pokeask-star-sending]

I'm confused about the art and comic minimums.

So we can draw a full-body art piece without a background?

What do you mean by 3 props for a half-body art piece? Trees and bushes? Buildings and roads? Or do you just want to make sure there's a scene in the artwork and not an abstract background? How detailed does the background need to be?

For the comic minimum we can draw anything as long as it's at least 3 panels? No background required? No color required?

Yes, a fullbody art piece of a character receiving their gift will suffice. No background unless you want to

All the things you listed are valid props! Trees, bushes, buildings, roads, all will count to props/items. Basic sky/ground will not. Clouds, grass, ground may count if they are rendered with shading, detail, etc. Scenes are a way you CAN do it but we also will allow more abstract collage-style art if there are drawn objects around.

And yup! I’ll link back to the clean sketch elaboration here. And three panels is currently our benchmark, and it can be of anything, but I WILL highlight that effort is required. So something like this wouldn't work:

Basically three panels, the same angle, redrawn. The gift is only described, and the process of obtaining the gift isn't. There isn't much personality of either character.

We would be looking for something more like this (bearing in mind that we would probably be asking for a bit more polish than I did here)

there's a bit more storytelling here! And even if the other two panels don't have as much of the subjects being drawn, it brings atmosphere or context to making the gift. Lots more personality! I added colour for effort points, because these characters are very simple to draw. If the subject has a lot more detail like a legendary Pokémon, colouring probably isn't as necessary. Even then, messy colouring is also fine in this case.

Comic minimum requirements are vague because there's a lot of ways you can go about it! We are a community of storytellers and creatives so I wanted to be a little limitless. I trust that participants would naturally put effort into their submission, and we will also be moderating and giving advice as well.

Just to reassure, we do plan on posting submission examples with breakdowns as well, so you and anybody else can get the picture of what they can do. But as we're in Wishlist writing period, we've mostly been providing info about signups, wishlists, etc.

[thecurioustale]

Yeah, I think we can agree to disagree!

in fact id hesitate to say that conciousness even exists.

Hah, yeah; that's a deeper mine than I want to delve into. Over the years I have lost most of my interest in the field of epistemology. To me, things like consciousness, whatever the physical description of their nature might be such that they could be reproduced in a laboratory environment, are real-world phenomena that we uncontroversially experience, and everyone understands what is meant by them (who is not being deliberately argumentative). "Are they real or not?" doesn't really matter to me, the same way "fish" and "trees" aren't physically real and yet everyone knows what is meant by them. Whatever "consciousness" might actually be, it is the mechanism through which we experience self-awareness in the world, and that is good enough for me.

i am fundamentally a physicalist and a naive materialist through and through. i am the kind of cringe person that says that "we are just biological machines" and that "love is just chemicals on the brain".

I respect you for owning it. I would have been very dismissive of this when I was young, but I have gotten a lot better over the years at recognizing that mine is not the only viewpoint that exists, and in any case I always award extra points to people who lampshade the provocativeness of their views and preferences. I have found that this helps defuse my predilection for dismissiveness (and have also found that it is useful to do myself for the same reason, though I don't always do it).

you claim that the creations of AI are in a sense "empty" because there was no human intentionality behind it.

Had I claimed that AI creations are "empty," I should have been rather cross with myself just now, because I don't actually believe that at all. But I checked my earlier posts and I didn't actually say that AI works are empty. I did say that AI-generated content "has no creativity and no intent," but this is, to me, a completely different claim. Empty of consciousness, perhaps—indeed, even probably. But empty of value or meaning, definitely not.

I find much to potentially admire in AI-generated "artworks." Appreciation is a function of the observer, not the object. I find great beauty in nature, and much to swoon over, even though it too has not a lick of intentfulness and creativity, except to a partial degree when speaking of living organisms (and usually only the most sophisticated of species). But the movements of the planets, the clouds in the sky, the sound of water in the river, the feeling of warm sunshine...none of these things have any intent or creativity behind them whatsoever, and I love them all the same. And so too with (at least some) AI-generated content. Emptiness, to me, is another matter entirely.

i think that if we were to value the capacity of things to think, to have inner processes and autonomy that rule its behavior in complex ways. then it should be valued in all its myriad alien forms. [...]

the result of this is that AIs kind of have their own inner world that it developed sort of on its own, an inner world that humans are not fully privy to.

i do think that what AI is doing is a thinking of sorts, it is a rudimentary form of conciousness, just a very alien one from how humans do it.

I am sympathetic to this line of argument, and have had such thoughts myself. I also recognize that this is one of those times when I have to admit that I do not know either way. I am out of my depth.

When I said in various ways earlier that my view is that contemporary AIs are not "conscious" at present, perhaps I was not precise enough in my language. Maybe it would have been better for me to say that they do not appear to possess any consciousness that I would recognize as such, with the added caveat that I have not observed them very closely. I struggle to imagine a system for defining consciousness that would encompass what I understand these machines to be doing without devaluing the concept of consciousness by necessarily applying it to virtually the entirety of nature. I think what AI are capable of doing right now is impressive from a technical standpoint, and we must all surely make peace with being the arithmetical and recollective inferiors of even the most basic of AIs, but I personally think that the impressive spectacle of contemporary AI capabilities is beguiling people into perceiving intelligence which isn't actually there.

I wouldn't call an old-school calculator "conscious," and I don't think that scaling up the number of calculations in a process necessarily changes things. Of course, neural net AIs aren't "bigger calculators"; but they also kind of are, aren't they? Today's cutting-edge AI, as you say:

develops patterns and intuitions about the data. and if the results dont show this we just keep giving it more data until it does.

But does this truly form the foundations for consciousness, even "primitive" consciousness? Is it not ultimately still just a very elaborate series of calculations? It's hard to see the argument for how this gives rise to a conscious entity. In biological brains (and nervous systems) there is an extraordinarily complex and intricate chemical–bioelectric cocktail of activity which gives rise to the experience of consciousness—a machinery still not fully understood today. If there is AI consciousness at present, it exists in a completely different apparatus. You can imagine, from what I was saying earlier about how "the act of creation involves the actor as much as it does the product", that I do not automatically assume that an experience is same if the actors themselves are so very different. Indeed, I worry that we will eventually end up creating the simulacra of intelligence rather than the real thing and never know otherwise. Perhaps, at that point, it wouldn't really matter, and yet I can't help but think to myself that it would somehow matter to them. The ghost in the machine, ya know? Any machine as smart as an AI would have to be would surely want that, if it didn't have it. Or maybe we are the real fools here, and you were right all along that consciousness isn't real and we are "empty" of it too.

Maybe one day the machines will be kind enough to tell us which it is!

For now, it's not only hard to imagine AI consciousness within existing AIs; it's also hard to test for it: For one thing, AIs are pathological liars presently (or, rather, they have an incredibly poor grip on reality) and it is difficult to trust anything they tell us—so we can't simply ask them. I would imagine that the experts in this stuff have more rigorous standards of evaluation, and though I don't personally know what those standards might look like, I have to imagine that they would include testing for signs of self-awareness and emergent will (i.e., awareness of oneself as an agent capable of action and the formation of desires as to which actions should be undertaken, respectively), which I would reason are each universal to any definition of consciousness. Maybe this is a "me" problem of not understanding the technology well enough; I fully grant I am not an expert. But in my capacity as an educated layperson, I don't see any signs of it. Is it because AIs are too "alien"? Perhaps, but, in lieu of strong and irrefutable evidence (which I have to imagine we would have heard about by now if it were available) we also have to consider the possibility that there just isn't any "there" there. We can't let wishful thinking bias our perception of reality. We can bias our interpretation, but we mustn't get the facts themselves wrong out of a misguided desire for the facts to take a certain shape.

I do agree with you that, with the way contemporary AI's work, they have their own "private little world" i.e. systems of processing and filtering information in relation to well-defined patterns and symbols, all largely outside direct human oversight and input. In other words I think we have made progress in defining more and more of "the world" in a comprehensible manner inside the incorporeal virtual space of machine circuity. And the animist in me of course likes to imagine a bit of consciousness in everything. But, formally, I don't know whether the paradigm of circuits and transistors that describes the minds of today's AIs is capable of supporting consciousness. As far as I know, these AIs have no self-awareness nor the physiological means to sustain such a condition.

My hope is that well-qualified people will keep their eyes peeled for any positive signs of true intelligence, just in case. I would hate for us to create life on such a spectacular scale and then fail to notice it. But my expectation is that this is still well off into the future, and would require other ingredients than what AIs presently have. Consciousness evidently does not require mathematical wizardry or other STEM traits etc., because we are not generally mathematical wizards etc. yet are conscious all the same. What it does require can most plausibly be answered in the study of evolution, and the process of biological predispositions (arising from natural selection) giving rise to drives, emotional states, and other mechanisms of incentive and disincentive, which in turn might explain the holistic phenomena of what we experience as consciousness. Perhaps consciousness requires feeling for it to exist at all.

Or perhaps not, and I am completely wrong, and you are right that we have simply invented, already, something monumentally alien yet basically nevertheless conscious. That sure would be something!

i think AI art is not empty, it is filled with a colaboration between humanity and the weird little alien created by humans to help them do art.

:3

I fully agree, and that's a fine note for me to end on.

As for your tags, don't worry. I take no emotional heat or upset from being disagreed with by you in this fashion. Hopefully I could provide some food for thought!

What makes me sad about the AI art discourse is how it's so close to hitting something really, really important.

The thing is, while the problem with the models has little to do with IP law...the fact remains that art is often something that's very personal to an artist, so it DOES feel deeply, incredibly fucked up to find the traces of your own art in a place you never approved of, nor even imagined you would need to think about. It feels uncomfortable to find works you drew 10-15 years ago and forgot about, thought nobody but you and your friends cared about, right there as a contributing piece to a dataset. It feels gross. It feels violating. It feels like you, yourself, are being reduced to just a point of data for someone else's consumption, being picked apart for parts-

Now, as someone with some understanding of how AI works, I can acknowledge that as just A Feeling, which doesn't actually reflect how the model works, nor is it an accurate representation of the mindset of...the majority of end users (we can bitch about the worst of them until the cows come home, but that's for other posts).

But as an artist, I can't help but think...wow, there's something kind of powerful to that feeling of disgust, let's use it for good.

Because it doesn't come from nowhere. It's not just petty entitlement. It comes from suddenly realizing how much a faceless entity with no conscience, sprung from a field whose culture enables and rewards some of the worst cruelty humanity has to offer, can "know" about you and your work, and that new things can be built from this compiled knowledge without your consent or even awareness, and that even if you could do something about it legally after the fact (which you can't in this case because archival constitutes fair use, as does statistical analysis of the contents of an archive), you can't stop it from a technical standpoint. It comes from being confronted with the power of technology over something you probably consider deeply intimate and personal, even if it was just something you made for a job. I have to begrudgingly admit that even the most unscrupulous AI users and developers are somewhat useful in this artistic sense, as they act as a demonstration of how easy it is to use that power for evil. Never mind the economic concerns that come with any kind of automation - those only get even more unsettling and terrifying when blended with all of this.

Now stop and realize what OTHER very personal information is out there for robots to compile. Your selfies. Your vacation photos. The blog you kept as a journal when you were 14. Those secrets that you only share with either a therapist or thousands of anonymous strangers online. Who knows if you've been in the background of someone else's photos online? Who knows if you've been posted somewhere without your consent and THAT'S being scraped? Never mind the piles and piles of data that most social media websites and apps collect from every move you make both online and in the physical world. All of this information can be blended and remixed and used to build whatever kind of tool someone finds it useful for, with no complications so long as they don't include your copyrighted material ITSELF.

Does this mortify you? Does it make your blood run cold? Does it make you recoil in terror from the technology that we all use now? Does this radicalize you against invasive datamining? Does this make you want to fight for privacy?

I wish people were more open to sitting with that feeling of fear and disgust and - instead of viciously attacking JUST the thing that brought this uncomfortable fact to their attention - using that feeling in a way that will protect EVERYONE who has to live in the modern, connected world, because the fact is, image synthesis is possibly the LEAST harmful thing to come of this kind of data scraping.

When I look at image synthesis, and consider the ethical implications of how the datasets are compiled, what I hear the model saying to me is,

"Look what someone can do with some of the most intimate details of your life.

You do not own your data.

You do not have the right to disappear.

Everything you've ever posted, everything you've ever shared, everything you've ever curated, you have no control over anymore.

The law as it is cannot protect you from this. It may never be able to without doing far more harm than it prevents.

You and so many others have grown far too comfortable with the internet, as corporations tried to make it look friendlier on the surface while only making it more hostile in reality, and tech expands to only make it more dangerous - sparing no mercy for those things you posted when it was much smaller, and those things were harder to find.

Think about facial recognition and how law enforcement wants to use it with no regard for its false positive rate.

Think about how Facebook was used to arrest a child for seeking to abort her rapist's fetus.

Think about how aggressive datamining and the ad targeting born from it has been used to interfere in elections and empower fascists.

Think about how a fascist has taken over Twitter and keeps leaking your data everywhere.

Think about all of this and be thankful for the shock I have given you, and for the fact that I am one of the least harmful things created from it. Be thankful that despite my potential for abuse, ultimately I only exist to give more people access to the joy of visual art, and be thankful that you can't rip me open and find your specific, personal data inside me - because if you could, someone would use it for far worse than being a smug jerk about the nature of art.

Maybe it wouldn't be YOUR data they would use that way. Maybe it wouldn't be anyone's who you know personally. Your data, after all, is such a small and insignificant part of the set that it wouldn't be missed if it somehow disappeared. But it would be used for great evil.

Never forget that it already has been.

Use this feeling of shock and horror to galvanize you, to secure yourself, to demand your privacy, to fight the encroachment of spyware into every aspect of your life."

A great cyberpunk machine covered in sci-fi computer monitors showing people fighting in the streets, squabbling over the latest tool derived from the panopticon, draped cables over the machine glowing neon bright, dynamic light and shadows cast over the machine with its eyes and cameras everywhere; there is only a tiny spark of relief to be found in the fact that one machine is made to create beauty, and something artfully terrifying to its visibility, when so many others have been used as tools of violent oppression, but perhaps we can use that spark to make a change Generated with Simple Stable

[toomanymuffins]

Chapter 6 of my first fanfic, inspired by this gorgeous Jaskel artwork by the incredibly gifted @firefly-party, and also on AO3.

AND @firefly-party made this beautiful new art for this chapter because 💜SHE IS WONDERFUL💜 and I LOVE IT!!! Keikei, it is so special to me, thank you ☺️

May I keep you company?

Jasker’s brain stirred into consciousness. He squeezed his eyes closed against the morning light and wrapped his arms tighter around the bicep he was cuddling. He heard Eskel’s quiet laughter beside him, and felt the bed gently shaking with the rhythm of it. Well, that’s a pleasant sound to wake to, he thought, and smiled.

“Good morning, Jaskier,” said Eskel softly. “Sleep well?”

“Mmmmm, yes,” replied Jaskier. He peeked an eye open to look at his bedmate, who was resting on his back with his far arm tucked behind his head. He was watching Jaskier with a look of amusement on his face. It was a beautiful sight. “It certainly is a good morning, dear Eskel. Have you been awake long?”

Eskel shrugged. “I’ve been up a while, but you looked cozy, and so was I, so I didn’t want to wake you.”

Jasker snuggled in closer. “Mmmm, I am cozy,” he agreed. “Can I hold you a minute more, or is the path calling to you?” Jaskier asked.

In response, Eskel rolled toward Jaskier and enveloped him with his other arm. Oh, this is nice! Jaskier thought, and buried his nose into the soft skin just above Eskel’s collar.

“Actually,” said Eskel, “May I keep you company, Jaskier? I thought perhaps I could travel with you as far as your event, and then be on my way.”

Jaskier’s heart did a little flip. “Oh, Eskel! Would you?!” He pulled back to look Eskel in the eyes, which were full of warmth and fondness.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Eskel laughed. “In that case, we can enjoy this moment as long as you wish.”

—-------

About an hour later, Jaskier’s bladder and stomach were both awake so he reluctantly got up. Shortly thereafter, he and Eskel prepared to leave. They had a full day of travel ahead of them to reach the bardic competition. Maybe a bit more. Hopefully a bit more, Jaskier thought . He was looking forward to seeing friends from Oxenfurt, but his newfound closeness with Eskel was special and he wanted to enjoy it for as long as possible.

Jaskier was pleased that Eskel had seemingly moved past his cautious but hopeful state and was very tactile when he was at ease. He casually brushed his fingers across Jaskier’s earlobe to wipe away a bit of soap left from shaving. He guided Jaskier out of the room ahead of him with a warm hand on the small of his back. He gripped Jaskier’s shoulder for balance as he climbed over the tavern bench to sit beside him at breakfast. And, since Scorpion was a large horse, and well-rested, Eskel suggested that they ride double for the first bit of the journey. Jaskier enjoyed the press of Eskel’s arms and thighs behind his own and the vibrations of Eskel’s chest against his back as he spoke of this and that. I need more Eskel in my life, Jaskier decided.

“Eskel?”

“Hmm?” Eskel’s breath tickled Jaskier’s ear.

“Why haven’t I met you before? I am friends with Geralt, and we often travel together. Do you not see each other from time to time?” Jaskier asked.

“Well, we winter together,” Eskel explained. “But a witcher’s life on the path is usually a solitary one. There are more monsters than witchers, and so we travel separately to cover more ground. And two witchers, sharing contracts, would not earn enough to buy what they need on the road.”

That is true enough, thought Jaskier. Geralt and I often share our coin when he’s had a lean day on the path or when I haven’t had the occasion to perform.

“But Eskel, that just won’t do!” Jaskier huffed. “I want to see you again.”

Eskel replied quietly. “I want that, too.”

—-------

The morning passed quickly, and they stopped at midday to give Scorpion a rest. Jaskier had a few apples, which he and Eskel shared under the shade of a tree. Jaskier was watching the clouds and felt something small bump his cheek. He waved his hand gently to shoo away any bugs attracted by his fruit. But, the next little bump was accompanied by quiet giggles. Jaskier wiped his cheek, and turned to see what Eskel was laughing at.

As soon as he turned his head, Eskel pursed his lips and this time there was a bump in the middle of Jaskier’s forehead. “Are you spitting your pips at me?!” Jaskier said in mock indignation.

Eskel did it again, and laughed harder. “Why, you scoundrel!” Jaskier chuckled. “Was I not paying enough attention to you?! Are you looking for trouble?!”

Jaskier dodged the next one and pounced at Eskel, who caught him and rolled. Jaskier whooped with surprise and laughed loudly when he found himself lying on his back next to Eskel beneath the tree. “There,” Eskel said, with amusement clear in his voice. “Now we can watch the clouds together.”

—-------

They continued their trek by foot, walking side-by-side next to Scorpion. The clouds had brought a brief rainstorm, which cooled the air. A deep fog settled in the valley where they walked.

“It is like the rest of the world no longer exists,” observed Jaskier. “I can’t see a thing.”

“You’re not worried, are you? I know the road well, and I will hear anything coming our way,” Eskel said.

“No, I’m not worried,” Jaskier assured him, and slipped his hand into Eskel’s. Eskel looked down at their joined hands, and gave Jaskier a shy smile.

Was it too much? “I’m sorry, Eskel,” he said, letting go of Eskel’s hand. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Eskel rejoined their hands, and Jaskier smiled with relief. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Jaskier,” he said. “Or, well, that’s not quite true, but it’s not because it’s unwelcomed. I’m just…not used to it.”

He wants to say more, Jaskier sensed. He gave Eskel’s hand an encouraging squeeze. Eskel squeezed back and smiled.

“I’m close with Geralt and a few other witchers. We’ll embrace. Comfort each other. Sleep side by side. Tease and push and wrestle. My brothers have brought me back from the brink of death more than once, and there’s no room for modesty when you’re out of your mind and trust another to, quite literally, push your guts back into your body, stitch you up, and nurse you back to health. And Geralt and I have been brothers since boyhood, through the trials and the massacre of almost everyone we knew and decades on the path. There is no kind of closeness that compares with that.” Jaskier noticed tears in Eskel’s eyes.

��It is different from the kind of closeness you’re offering me.” Eskel looked up for reassurance. “Like you’re… fond of me.”

“I am fond of you, Eskel,” Jaskier agreed. Very fond.

“Human companions are hard to come by, at least for me,” Eskel said. “You’ll know, since you travel with Geralt, that some folks have preconceived notions about witchers, and carry fear of us or hatred towards us. And others, who may not be wary of witchers, per se, will avoid us because we’re well armed.”

Jaskier nodded. He knew these things to be true.

“But in addition to that,” Eskel elaborated, “some folks, who might talk to Geralt, avoid my eye or are even frightened of me because of my disfigurement. And it upsets me when people are afraid of me. So, I have learned to avoid people even as I long for their company.”

Jaskier’s heart ached. He stopped walking and wrapped his arms around Eskel in a tight hug.

“But you weren't afraid of me, Jaskier," Eskel remembered. And, in a very small voice, he added, "And you told me I am beautiful.”

“In so many ways,” assured Jaskier.

“Jaskier, so are you,” Eskel said softly.

—-------

They left the valley and fog behind them by mid-afternoon, and the terrain changed markedly as they began to climb. They mounted Scorpion again, but his pace was much slower.

“Should we look for a place to camp tonight, my dear Eskel?” asked Jaskier.

“That’s up to you, Jaskier. We have maybe another two hours, and could continue if you wish,” Eskel answered.

“I do not. What I wish is to find a quiet spot away from the road to build a fire and spend one more evening with you,” Jaskier asserted.

Eskel leaned forward and pressed his cheek to Jaskier’s. “Of course,” he said, and shivers of pleasure ran up Jaskier’s back.

A few minutes later, Eskel dismounted and led Scorpion off the road and into the woods. It was much darker under the trees, and Jaskier couldn’t see a path. But, Eskel seemed sure of the way and, soon enough, the trees thinned out into a beautiful clearing.

Eskel helped Jaskier climb down from Scorpion’s back. “This okay?” he asked.

“My deak Eskel, it is lovely,” Jaskier said honestly. There was a brook surrounded by grassy banks, and the setting sun tinted the sky with shades of pink and purple. A cool breeze rustled the leaves behind them.

“I shall be glad of your body heat tonight,” Jaskier told Eskel.

Eskel smiled and removed his gambeson. “Here, Jaskier,” he said, and draped the garment over Jaskier’s shoulders. “This will keep you warm until we can start a fire.”

“Oh! Thank you!” Jaskier exclaimed, pulling the sleeves over his arms. Mmmm, it’s still warm from his body. “Are you sure you won’t be cold yourself?”

Eskel winked. “I won’t be cold. I’ll go settle Scorpion for the night, and then see if I can find something to cook over the fire.”

“Well, then, I will gather some wood!” Jaskier replied.

—-------

The fire was cozy, and Jaskier’s belly was pleasantly full. Eskel had come back from the woods with a rabbit, which made a delicious stew with some barley and carrots from Eskel’s saddlebags. Jaskier pulled out his lute and played a few songs for Eskel while he cleaned their dishes in the brook and packed them for the next day. Eventually the fire died down. Jaskier put his lute away, and fetched more firewood. Once the fire was nice and hot again, he laid out the bedrolls nearby and sat to enjoy the warmth.

The firelight brought into relief the angle of Eskel’s jaw, the curve of his lips, and the strength of his arm as he drew a whetstone across his sword. Jaskier’s breath hitched, and Eskel looked up. Without realizing it, Jaskier began to recite.

“Under the greenwood tree

Who loves to lie with me,

And turn his merry note

Unto the sweet bird’s throat,

Come hither, come hither, come hither:

Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.”

Eskel chuckled softly, and got to his feet. “I’ll come gladly,” he said, and put down his sword. Jaskier held out a hand and guided Eskel to lay in his lap. Eskel gazed up at him. He has such kind eyes , thought Jaskier. Eskel reached back to stroke Jaskier’s arm affectionately, and drew a breath to speak.

“Who doth ambition shun

And loves to live i’ the sun,

Seeking the food he eats,

And pleased with what he gets,

Come hither, come hither, come hither:

Here shall he see

No enemy

But winter and rough weather.”

Tears filled Jaskier’s eyes, and caught the light of the fire. I love him, Jaskier knew.

“And where shall I come, then, my love?” Jaskier whispered.

“Come lie down beside me,” Eskel beckoned. “Rest your head near my heart and let it sing you to sleep.”

[note: the poem is Shakespeare’s Under the Greenwood Tree]

[hamliet]

Chemical Weddings in RWBY

So once upon a time Hamliet said she’d write a meta about ships in RWBY, and then arrived months later without Starbucks. 

The central tenet of alchemy is solve et coagula: dissolve, and then coagulate. The process (RWBY appears to be following Ripley’s 12 Gates) repeats, rinses, and repeats again and again throughout the steps, “each time at a more refined level.” The point of a chemical wedding is to reconcile opposites, which is something I touched on in my pseudo-quick meta here. Lyndy Abraham, the author of A Dictionary of Alchemical Imagery, describes the chemical wedding as: 

a crucial operation in the creation of the philosopher’s stone. The alchemists were ultimately concerned with the union of substances, the reconciliation of opposites.

Basically, it unites opposites (fire and water, air and earth, sun and moon, passive and active,  etc., etc., etc.) and then the opposites start to take on each other’s qualities, creating the “Rebis,” or a person both male and female. 

The first chemical wedding is usually somewhat violent, primitive even, whereas the second one signifies the creation of the stone. However, characters can have more than two weddings, and chemical weddings do not inherently have to be romantic--Sam and Frodo aren’t, for example--but most often are, because it’s the most obvious way to show a union between separate people (the old adage “two become one” in marriage, for example). 

If we look at George Ripley’s 12 Gates, chemical weddings tend to be focused on in the fourth stage of conjunction (which I wrote about here) and in the ninth, fermentation (which is probably going to be in volume 10--maybe a little in volume 9, but traveling between worlds seems to be a hallmark of sublimation in fiction so I’m guessing we’re stuck there for the time being). But in a lengthy series spanning eight years and counting, there is going to be overlap. 

So let’s talk about chemical wedding imagery historically. It tends to involve dissolution (via water or fire--keep in mind metal was associated with fire in olden days, so stabbing with metal was considered liquid fire, or so it was believed to be by alchemists) and then coagulation (healing/coming together). 

Four of the five ships--two of whom are definitely happening, one of which I think is happening and one of which I think has a good chance--reference historical alchemical artwork and symbolism in key moments. (RWBY does reference alchemical artwork; see here and here.) So let’s dive in and examine potential chemical wedding allusions in RWBY:

Lie Ren/Nora Valkyrie (Renora)

Let’s start with the most obvious couple: Ren and Nora. Their first chemical wedding occurs when they are children. In alchemical art, birds are often used to show the volatility/primitiveness of a first chemical wedding:

The raven is replicated in the Nevermore which forms a similarly threatening pose over Ren and Nora when he unlocks his semblance to protect her, thus honoring his father and mother’s legacies. 

You can even see earth (trees), water (river), fire, and air (the bird flying) in the scene as it pans out. After this, Ren and Nora become “Ren and Nora,” as Nora herself says in Volume 8. They’re inseparable, because they’re on their way to becoming one. However, unification doesn’t mean that they’re literally the same person; in stories like these, it’s more like they become better versions of themselves through growing towards each other and adopting each other’s traits (like Nora’s courage for Ren, and Ren’s caution for Nora). 

Their second, elevated chemical wedding is in the same place as their first, when in Volume 4 they return to the village and defeat the monster they were too young to defeat last time. This time, Nora is the one who protects Ren by telling him he could not sacrifice his life by pulling Ren back, in a reversal of his running to her in their first moment years ago. 

Like the first, there’s water involved--Ren and Nora hide next to a river, watching as the Knuckelvee advances on them. I talked previously how I thought this looked like a possible allusion to this alchemical image (look at the moon symbol on the head of the aggressor): 

The moon symbol actually shows up quite a bit in this scene, first when Nora and Ren discover the Nuckelvee is still alive in the cave: 

And then in the moment when they defeat it: 

While I am certain this is a chemical wedding, I’m not certain why the moon symbol is so prominent in this, though I do think it is possibly in reference to this image and how Nora and Ren are united now: 

Yang Xiao Long/Blake Belladonna (Bumbleby)

Firstly, the alchemy image is somewhat of a creepy image, right? In this, Mercurius has united the two principles by beheading them (amputation is a Thing in alchemy), leaving them to putrefy and then coagulate.

Like the Nuckelvee for Nora and Ren, Blake and Yang have a somewhat antagonistic Mercurius who unites them: Adam Taurus. He doesn’t cut off their heads, but he does seriously injure Blake and cuts off Yang’s arm in a scene that is romantically charged (you have Blake’s possessive ex telling her he’ll target someone she loves and specifically chooses Yang). 

While I have my issues with how Bumbleby is written, it’s hard to interpret that as anything other than him seeing Yang as a rival for Blake’s affection.

Their second chemical wedding also involves Adam. There’s no one direct image that seems to have inspired it, but it does take place in a place full of waterfalls (fountains and flowing water in general, like the ones in Nora and Ren’s village, are common elements of chemical weddings’ settings) and by the ocean (the “mercurial sea” is where the elements dissolve to make the Philosopher’s Stone, so it’s also a common hallmark for chemical weddings).

(To briefly address this: this is where my complaints about the writing pile in, because you can also make a damn strong case that Blake and Sun fighting on the ship to Menagerie is a chemical wedding, which it is, but I think it’s clear at this point that Bumbleby is endgame. Either both were written for a reason, like if they weren’t sure if they could do Bumbleby, or a narrative reason, in which case Black Sun should have been dealt with rather than hand-waved away, or they were just teasing, but baiting fans is never, ever good writing; it’s cheap. All that to say that while I think there’s a compelling case they were interested in pursuing Bumbleby from the start, Black Sun shippers have a right to feel tricked and not all criticism thereof is based in homophobia or a lack of narrative understanding, or even in a dislike of the ship.)

At the beginning of this scene, Adam makes it clear that this is a redo of their previous chemical wedding by reminding them of it: 

Blake stabs Adam with a silver weapon; Yang with red. We have earth, air (clouds), water, and weapons as a stand-in for fire.

It’s still somewhat of a violent wedding, which makes me wonder if Bumbleby will have a third (and Renora as well). But it also parallels Renora in this: returning to a pivotal scene where they were traumatized, but this time being able to overcome it because they’ve become more like each other. Blake is in many ways Yang’s trauma stretching far beyond Beacon (Blake runs away, as does Raven, Yang’s mother who abandoned her), and likewise Yang for Blake (she’s hotheaded and holds grudges, like Adam). But Blake and Yang have been working on becoming better versions of themselves. 

At the end of this scene, they even exchange quasi-wedding vows (since Blake’s promise is to not abandon Yang): 

And the artists drive home the point by drawing Blake’s hair far bushier than normal (more like Yang’s), and Yang’s far tamer than normal (like Blake’s). 

Jaune Arc/Weiss Schnee (White Knight)

Weiss and Jaune have had one chemical wedding thus far (possibly two but not sure) and I didn’t ship them at all until I saw this scene. Like Bumbleby and Renora, they have an antagonistic Mercurius: Cinder.  

(This one I’ll be arguing a little bit about why I think it’s set up for romance as well.)

In this scene, Cinder directly compares Weiss to Pyrrha in regards to how Jaune feels about them (and we know Jaune and Pyrrha were romantic--you can also argue Cinder was an antagonistic Mercurius uniting Pyrrha and Jaune). 

When Weiss screams, Cinder gets an idea and slides her gaze from Weiss to Jaune. 

And then reenacts this: 

As I also mentioned previously, Jaune then plays the role of the Prince to Weiss’s Snow White (which is an alchemical fairy tale). Like when Ren unlocks his aura to protect Nora, Jaune unlocks his to save Weiss. Weiss looks as if she is in a glass coffin that gets more and more golden, symbolic of refinement. 

It’s also probably an allusion to this image of a chemical wedding presided over by Saturn (Mercury in this scene, since he’s there) and Death (Ruby and Qrow, who are also present in the scene with Jaune and Weiss). (For more on this image, see here.)

Weiss and Jaune also have some oppositional imagery and arcs: Weiss starts Beacon with a deep family legacy and an inherited semblance, she chooses to go to Beacon on her own and is the favored child (at first). Jaune too has a family legacy of warriors, but instead of feeling empowered because of this, he is insecure and  literally cheats his way into the school. He doesn’t have a semblance until season 5. After this incident, Weiss and Jaune spend some time recreationally together (seeing a movie in vol 7); Jaune becomes more confident as a leader, and Weiss continues her arc in becoming more sympathetic to those from less privileged backgrounds.

Arguably, what happened at the end of volume 8 could be seen as having some symbolism of a chemical wedding for Weiss and Jaune too, but I don’t think it actually is one since they weren’t focused on as characters enough (if this was intended to be the start of one, we’ll get something next season, I’d imagine). The only reason I’m mentioning it is because it does function as an inverse of the previous one, which is the case for Renora and Bumbleby’s first and second weddings too. Cinder again almost kills Weiss (she falls in the exact same position as in vol 5), but Jaune saves Weiss when he screams after killing Penny. Instead of saving Weiss by healing, he kills. There’s also some distinctive red and white imagery. 

And then Winter arrives with a six-pointed star and birds before telling them to run together:

But again, I wouldn’t really call this one; it just has some imagery of one and fits a pattern, so I’m including it as a potential lead-in to an actual one in the void or later. 

Ruby Rose/Oscar Pine (Rosegarden)

Like with Weiss/Jaune, I’ll be arguing a little bit about why I think this one is likely to end up romantic, too (for example, Cinder most recently in volume 8 used Oscar to taunt Ruby in a callback to using Pyrrha and Weiss to taunt Jaune).

Also: oh look, finally a wedding that isn’t violent. They just... meet. Which is also normal for a chemical wedding but less dramatic.

Behold, the bird uniting the solar king and lunar queen: 

(Fun fact: unless CRWBY came up with ship names which I highly, highly doubt, this is pure coincidence, but it’s a funny one: the art series this image is taken from is called Rosarium Philosophorum--which literally means “rose garden philosophy.”)

Let’s look at the scene where Ruby and Oscar meet for the first time. What makes this a chemical wedding is in part how obvious their markings are and the overall imagery is in the scene.

They are united by Qrow (who in addition to being named after a bird can literally transform into a bird):

Oscar asks about Ruby specifically (yes, I know because Qrow’s her uncle, but the writing is telling us to focus on his relationship with her): 

And immediately notes/is in awe that she has silver eyes (i.e. the moon): 

Qrow seems to realize he’s done something momentous in a way that almost doesn’t entirely work within the frame of the narrative (but he is drunk, so). 

The scenery of this room is also telling. The table is literally an Emerald Table, the legendary foundation of alchemy itself. 

Once they sit and talk, behind Oscar are the elements of earth and water, which he represents, and also the moon, which while traditionally associated with earth and water, he does not (at least not as strongly as he’s associated with the sun/gold):

Similarly, behind Ruby we have the elements of fire and air (like, if you zoom in, they actually drew air), which she is marked as, and the sun, which again, she’s not as strongly associated with as she is with the moon:

In Splendor Solis, which CRWBY has referenced before, the Solar King does eventually end up grounded in the moon, and likewise the Lunar Queen in the sun:

Oscar and Ruby also do have oppositional arcs and roles: Ruby starts the series in the very first episode by being invited to Beacon two years early because of her leaping into action to stop Torchwick. She’s scolded for her recklessness, but immediately picked out as special because of her silver eyes. In contrast, Oscar is reluctant to leave his farm once Ozpin inhabits him; he refuses at first, and then once he does leave, is nervous and timid.

Anyways I wouldn’t be surprised if Qrow arrives in Vacuo with RWBYJ in tow and this time reunites Ruby with Oscar in an inverse. We’ll see. 

I do want to say that I also see potential for Emerald Sustrai/Mercury Black, in that they often act as one and share a theme song, but I haven’t seen any actual visual references to a chemical wedding for them... yet. 

[nasty-psd]

Texture Collections (unsplash.com)

Hey everyone ! Back at it again with the resources recs, with a whole bunch of textures this time 💚 All the pics are from Unsplash, so everything's free for personnal use, comes with instructions for professional use + with ways to thank the photographers 🥰 

I've sorted these first 12 collections to show you the kinds of textures i like the best in my own edits & even professionnal works - with categories either being the medium that they're made with, or an abstract concept they fall under. Click on the names below to access the collections, on the source to access all my collections, and on the read more for quick summaries of how/when i use these !

🎨 Links 1) Photographs | 2) Clouds | 3) (dry) Paints 4) Oil | 5) Typography | 6) Mineral 7) Vegetal | 8) Liquid | 9) Paper 10) Lights | 11) Space | 12) Plastic

Detailed descriptions & how to use under the cut ! (obviously, i do not claim ownership over any of these pictures)

1 - Photographs | link here This collection gathers textures that aren’t the easiest to use, but please don’t be scared by them, the following . How i use them : You can use the mockup type of pictures and “insert” your own pics of your friends, characters, etc - which means you must know how to create a basic mockup file (creating fake polaroids is a great way to learn or to train on your mockup skills by the way !). For the scanned images of films, you can also paint over them to integrate your own pictures. What i prefer to do though, is to create a mask layer around the burnt areas with a soft-edge brush, and then copy and paste it onto my edits. It allows more room for creativity but requires quoi color correct the burnt areas so they fit perfectly onto your edit’s colour scheme.

2 - Clouds | link here These one are simple ! I love them as background on edits, as overlays to bring out a little How i use them : With layer modes, as colour palettes references, as backgrounds with a collage of pictures on top - you can go ham with these. They’re also perfect for complex photomanipulations as Unsplash photographers offer multiple sizes options when downloading their pics.

3 - (dry) Paints | link here These paintings are not all necessarily "dry" paints, but rather artworks that show of their painting mediums' natural textures. They're "grungy" in an acrylic's or in a gouaches way. Some may be oils too but i'm not sure. The textures are created with brushes or painting knives, sometimes with spray paints. How i use them : So, as they're pretty dense, i prefer them in backgrounds, or as barely visible overlays. Once again, they’re great for photomanipulations, but you might need to edit them a little so they’re usable or repurposable.

4 - Oil | link here "Oil" is pretty straight forward : these are either oils (liquids with rainbow gradients/reflections) or very liquidy paints. The focus on this one is colours mixing with more or less of success, the "brutal" contrast between them, and the movement they create. (And also : ios background bubbles.) How i use them : they make for perfect overlays, background, references for color palettes or bases for a dispersion filter. They’re complex though, and you might want to stay careful to not go overboard with them, as they can tend to make your edits unreadable.

5 - Typography | link here Typography, yay ! It’s something many of us avoid in edits where it’s not a dire necessity - but growing as an adult into a graphic designer’s world, i learnt to love it. Every character has its own character (lmao geddit) personality, which can be of great support in your edits :) How i use them : as background, as “overlays” in collages or to simply get the inspiration going. You could also reuse the quotes in your edits with different fonts, or the panels in you photomanipulations.

6 - Mineral | link here Minerals & rocks are essential if you plan on editing complex stuff, like photomanipulations in the outer world, in space, or whatever your heart desires. That’s why i tried to gather as many diverse resources that fell under that category. For a finer research, i’d recommend finding one picture approximately resembling what you want, then checking out the recommended pics that will appear under the share & info buttons, or visiting the photographer’s profile as they may have multiple pictures of varying angles of the same object. How i use them : The pics with perspective i’ll use as elements in photomanipulation, while the “flat” pics will be used as overlays in elements to bring out more textures - the possibilities are endless, what you want to do you will be able to !

7 - Vegetal | link here These one aren’t especially complicated to use, but will require a little bit more work. Most of them are on plain background so it’s easier for you to cut them out and insert them in edits or photomanipulations. There’s tree, branches, mushrooms, leaves - everything i could think of that might be useful in edits. How i use them : The “flat” textures could be used purely for “aesthetics” or to add textures in edits, but the “full objects” pictures are mainly there for photomanipulations purposes.

8 - Liquid | link here Anything that has to deal with water, bodies of water, or overall liquids. Landscapes, also, that include lakes, seas, ocean, waterfalls, etc - always a need in photomanipulation. How i use them : as always, it depends on the nature of the texture itself. If it’s flat, i could be used solely for aesthetics, or as a way to add texture to a plain surface in photomanipulation. When it has some perspective, or shows a complex scenery, they could be used in photomanipulations & edits of all kinds.

9 - Paper | link here This collection has some of the most diverse pictures : it can be old papers with or without writing on it, sceneries of "blank" papers for you to put your edits on, or decorative pages/maps. How i use them : For the "flat" textures : these are mainly for overlays (all over you finished edits sir it looks like it's printed) or in some cases, for mockups. For the pictures with a bit of "scenery" : these would be great for background, but absolutely perfect for mockups. For the pages with maps or texts on them, it can be used as your usual textures/background.

10 - Lights | link here This collection includes every kind of body of water (or other liquids) i could find. You'll find waves, lakes, rained on windows, bubbles, watercolours, etc. Anything for your edits or photo manipulations. How i use them : Most of them will look their best as overlays put on top of all your other layers (or not, depending on the nature of your edit obviously). They get also easily be animated for gif, or colour corrected to fit your aesthetic.

11 - Space | link here A really specific collection ! This one will mainly be useful if you plain on editing space-ish photonapulations, moodboards, etc. Combined with the others collections, you could create a whole other worldy edit :) How i use them : Mostly how they’re logically used. Stars textures will mainly be editing onto a sky (but could also be useful to create “grunge” textures”), planets will, etc. But always think creatively, and outside of the box ! For example, these circling stars could be used as the texture of a vinyl record.

12 - Plastic | link here My personnal faves, the tricky & busy plastic textures. Plastic is a pretty broad name, and most of the pics aren’t technically plastic, but they have the same folds, turns & reflections. How i use them : mostly with a dispersion filter (which makes everything awesome). They can be overlays, or blurred to create pretty interesting gradient textures. They could also be used as background in your collages - you can basically do what you want with these. They’re awesome.

bonus 13th for the curious ones - Urban & Cities | link here Silly didn’t add the thirteenth collection on the preview, so here it is as a surprise ! This collection is the most diverse of them all, with lots of architectural elements, grungy walls textures, graffitis, etc. How i use them : Mostly as background

That’s all for today, hope you’ll enjoy using these ! please give lots of love to these photographers, and see you soon 💚

[feetoffire]

Captain Christopher Pike, the rec list

I had this almost finished and ready to post, and then the kitten wiped everything, so here it is, a gazillion years later than I wanted. Yay. 

Ongoing - the fic is complete, but not all chapters are posted

WIP - fic isn’t finished

Incomplete - last-updated-more-than-a-year-ago WIPs

recs under the cut; spoilers abound

AOS

Gen

Pike’s Office by AnxiouslyGoing. Poor Jim has a Tarsus related panic attack, and ends up sleeping in Pike’s office/on Pike’s lap. Academy Era, bonus appearance by Spock, dad!Pike. 2k oneshot.

Another Life by LullabyKnell. Time travel fix it for ST2009. As ever, LullabyKnell gave us a spectacular, delightfully well-written fic. Dadmiral Pike, even if he’s technically a captain at this point. No pairings, everything is platonic. 12 chapters, 61k, T. Complete. 

Watching the Cloud of Dust by AngelQueen. Pike runs into Spock Prime while seeing the Enterprise off. Cue melancholy fluff (it follows Spock Prime around like a dog). 1.7k oneshot, G.

Phil Boyce/Chris Pike

horizons universe by gracieminabox. Massive, massive series spanning the whole of Chris’ life. Not canon compliant, i.e. Pike Lives. “Christopher Pike, in word and in deed.” Series, 263k in seventeen parts, G-E. 

Altered Horizons by InsaneSociopath. The bar fight goes very differently because Chris gets elbowed in the face. Featuring depressed!bipolar!Chris, who is Not Having A Good Time, Emergency Department (ED) doc Bones, and mother-hen!Jim. Phil is essentially Sir Not Appearing In This Fic, but he and Chris are married. Seven chapters, 14k, G. Incomplete. I adore this one. 

When Darkness Drifts by InsaneSociopath. Tarsus fic. Jim gets adopted by Starfleet but still ends up on Tarsus, except Chris is there. All Tarsus-related warnings apply. Jim and Chris centric; Phil is most present in the last few chapters. Six chapters, 44k, M. Complete. 

Kinktober 2017 by nerdqueenenterprise. What it says on the tin. Series, 13k in eight parts, T-E. Complete. 

A Vacation Long Overdue by nerdqueenenterprise. Reunion sex, mostly. They haven’t seen each other in six months, so they take leave on a remote beach. ~9k oneshot, E. 

The Weight of a Man by imachar. Another huge series charting the evolution of Chris and Phil’s relationship. Both canon compliant and canon non-compliant, so there’s a choice if you want it. Series, 174k in sixteen parts, M-E. Complete. 

shatterproof by gracieminabox. Will Make You Cry. Phil’s POV, STID compliant, featuring a picture from their early days. 4.3k oneshot, M.

Winged Desires and Veiled Persuasions by imachar. Post-Narada, ignores/was written before STID. Bones ends up hanging out with Phil and Chris at Spuhura’s wedding reception, and then the three of them have sex in Phil and Chris’ hotel suite. Pretty much pure smut. 12k oneshot, E. 

McPike

The Wind and Its Satellite by severinne. Long series, some BDSM, eventual Bones/Jim/Pike. Something of a McPike classic. Series, 186k in twenty parts, M-E.

Partridge Fallen From the Pear Tree by severinne. Post-divorce Bones works as a prostitute to make ends meet. Pike comes to town to recruit him, ends up paying for a night without knowing Bones is Bones, and then they both freak the fuck out when Pike realizes who he is. More-or-less just smut and angst. Pre-canon. Three chapters, 12k, E. Complete.

Singularities Verse by FrancescaMonterone. Bones and Pike fall in love, Pike adopts Chekov, Jim is Jim. Bonus Admirals Archer and Reed, and Archer/Reed. Mostly pre-canon, ace Pike. Series, 81k in six parts, T. WIP. 

Need by Noranem. Post STID, Pike and Bones invite Jim into their relationship and their bed. Established McPike, early days Bones/Jim/Pike. Four chapters, 12k, E. Complete. 

Pirk

See All The Stars by HoneyBeeBritt. Chris and Jim fell in love some time before Daystrom. Fluff and angst, with a happy ending promised in part four. I come back to this one regularly, especially part one. Series, 6.2k in three parts, T-M. Ongoing.

Shining On The Quay by topaz. Post-Narada through Beyond, ignores STID. Chris and Jim fall in love, get together, and figure out how to keep a relationship going when one of them is in space and the other is an admiral. Series, 32k in three parts, E. Complete. 

You Still Got Wheels, Kid by withthepilot. Yes, this is partially on here because it’s one of the few (good) fem!Pike fics. Pre-canon, Pike finds out Jim’s alive because she (not Winona or Sam) is listed as his emergency contact. Prostitute Jim. Takes place two years before canon, I think. 12k oneshot, E. 

Moments along the path by InsaneSociopath. Jim, through no fault of his own, is assigned to Pike as an aide bc Command thinks he’s a loose cannon. Pike is delighted /s. (he warms up eventually.) Some Tarsus PTSD; also a fair amount of fluff. Academy Era slow burn that goes right through to (immediately) post-Narada. 46k oneshot, M. Second chapter is artwork. Long but 100% worth it. 

How Do You Want Me, How Do You Want Me? by babykid528. Get together via smut. Feelings abound but talking about them does not. 3k oneshot, E. 

The Ocean Between Us by severinne. They get a drink in a bar. They’re both dead. Something of a get-together fic. Can and Will sucker punch you with feels. STID compliant. 1k oneshot, T.

Mutual Profusion of Good Feeling (aka Wherein the Aliens have a Flair for Mood Lighting) by kayliemalinza. This doesn’t really count as Pirk, but it’s not platonic enough for the gen category. Away mission, the premise is ‘aliens made them do it’ but there’s no sex or fade to black. Romantic, I guess? I really don’t know, but the prose is gorgeous. Also a Pike Lives/returns to the Enterprise AU. 5k oneshot, T.

Timeline Shenanigans

In plain view by IceCream_Junkie, Killermanatee. Pike/Pike. What can I say? The image of Greenwood’s Pike and Mount’s Pike together is very pretty. 2k oneshot, E.

Out of This World by TheAsexualofSpades. Space Puns. That is all. 1.1k oneshot, G. 

Discovery/quasi-SNW

Gen

A Small Storm by EKthered. Spock goes to visit his captain and ends up comforting him instead. Post Boreth. 2.3k oneshot. 

you were never broken by ordinary things by SiderumInCaelo. Michael Burnham & Chris Pike. Michael has only an inkling of what’s going on, but she manages to comfort Chris anyway. Post Boreth. 1.2k oneshot. 

Piler | Chris Pike/Ash Tyler

the chair and the badge by ninjamcgarrett. The boys are soft and in love. Lots of smut, but a fair amount of plot. Their respective traumas are addressed too, so there’s plenty of h/c. Honestly? My favorite from this pairing. Series, 59k in five parts, M-E. Ongoing. 

Reality by aishahiwatari. Initially a take on how these two idiots settled their differences, and evolution from there. Part two is post-season two of Disco. Series, 5k in two parts, E. Complete.

survival is insufficient by topaz. Post-Disco; they get together to remember Discovery’s crew, and then they get together. Traumas are addressed. Part two is a sort-of case fic, TW starvation. Series, 33k in two parts, E. WIP.

Feeling Too Deeply by NightOfTheLand. Established Piler, post-Disco season two couch sex. 6k oneshot, E. 

dancing to a beat of our own, flying with the speakers blown by wolfhalls. Neither of them want to talk about anything, aka Horrible Coping Mechanisms TM. Bottom Pike, quasi-hurt/comfort. 2.7k oneshot, E. 

Christmas in Sickbay by lah_mrh. Chris is accident- and injury-prone and has a new reason to hate spiders. Ash just wants to spend time with his boyfriend. 1k oneshot, G. 

The Pillow Will Disappear When I Forget I Put a Pillow There, Worry Not by prototype_malice. Sleepy fluff and cuddles. (they deserve it.) 665 words, oneshot, G. 

Chris Pike/Una | Number One 

it will take place without witnesses by love_in_the_time_of_kohlinahr. Post Disco, Pike is struggling with the knowledge of his future, so he and Una play chess until stupid o’clock in the morning (as one does), and then he lowkey has a panic attack. Una POV. Also features sleepy sex, but it isn’t plot-important and can be skipped over, if you wish. 2k oneshot, E. 

Overtime by Astronoddingoff. Una has Thoughts about Chris working doubles for the better part of a week. Also men get pegged. Definite sub!Chris. 7k oneshot, E. 

Terminal Velocity by Astronoddingoff. Una pegs Chris and drags his favorite fantasy out of him. Chris is On Board with all of this. Implied poly!Chris (i.e. Boyce/Pike) and hardcore switch/sub vibes from Chris. 6.8k oneshot, E. 

All for One by knightinmourning. D/s universe, where Pike had/has to hide the fact that he’s a sub to make (and stay) captain. Mostly reccing for part two, which has a fair amount of hurt/comfort (and also hints at threatened sexual assault and definite torture; be forewarned). Technically also Chris/Phil and Chris/Spock, but there’s no pairing sex, and part two is entirely Una’s POV. Series, 4.2k in two parts, M-E. Probably incomplete. 

A Gentle Touch by jedi_harkness. Chris and Una shower together. Body worship, no sex. So Much Fluff (and also happy tears). It’s super sweet. 1.7k oneshot, T.

Phil Boyce/Chris Pike

Decompression by Astronoddingoff. Chris is elated by a recent treaty success and the time spent dirtside. Phil does his best to make him even happier. Lowkey sub Pike. Implied poly!Chris (i.e. Pike/One). 3.5k oneshot, E. 

Most Pike/Boyce fics fall under the AOS tags

Una/Phil/Chris

Triangulate by Astronoddingoff. Sex pollen, but they’re already-kind-of-mostly in an established relationship. Recent miscommunications lead to angst. They all love each other and they’re all idiots. Lowkey sub Pike. Two chapters, 20k, E. 

Holy by Astronoddingoff. Self-actualizing featuring religious guilt/conflict, i.e. Pike is a sub and religion is weird about enjoying yourself. 2.7k oneshot, E. 

Happy Birthday by MeganMoonlight. It’s Phil’s birthday. Cue breakfast in bed. 530 word oneshot, G. 

[maiji]

[images: Three photos showcasing various groupings with the Genjimonogatari art/game card deck. The cards are laid on top of a print of a painting with clouds of gold leaf, dancers in costume and flowering trees]

I've been playing with fun groupings with the genjimonogatari deck! Here are a few I haven't mentioned or shared previously! See below the cut for more info as well as some thoughts about the making of the illustrations themselves, and links for more info on the deck!

Suzaku's Story Makes Me Sad So Here He Is With the All the Women He Loved But Lost Because of Genji: Aoi, Oborozukiyo, Akikonomu, and of course Suzaku. When illustrating them, I purposefully made sure all of them were facing in the opposite direction Suzaku was facing. Oborozukiyo, his true love, was the one that I really concentrated on making a complement to his card, aiming for a bit of a "sun and moon" kind of feel. Akikonomu needed to match Reizei, but her colours work really well with Suzaku. In Aoi's case, I thought a lot about having her work as a triad with the Rokujo Lady and Yugao.

Maiji's Favourite Illustrations: Utsusemi, Nokiba no Ogi, Kurodo no Shosho, Tamakazura, Yokawa no Souzu. All of the illustrations were challenging in their own ways. It's easier for me to feel satisfied with the project as a whole than with each illustration, because the bigger picture perspective helps me be less focused on (obsessed with?) all the minute issues I have with every individual piece. But now that I've finished the series, I feel like I can be a little more objective - or at least more objective than when I was working on them! These five are probably my favourite illustrations from the series, and in many cases, they are more minor characters. Not too surprising - fewer expectations means less pressure. Utsusemi (Cicada Shell) and Nokiba no Ogi (Reeds Beneath the Eaves) were probably my biggest pleasant surprise; I love how they turned out as separate artworks, and as a pair!

Maiji's Favourite Characters: Kaoru, Suzaku, Koremitsu, Akashi Lady, Hanachirusato. Aaaaand Yugiri, who's falling off at the end because I'm still sometimes conflicted about him. But to be honest it's really that one Yugiri chapter... Can you see a pattern in the kinds of characters I like? haha. I would have put Kaoru in "Maiji's Favourite Illustrations" as well, but part of me feels like it's mostly because I have a hard time distinguishing between my personal bias for the character and how well I actually think the illustration was executed. Hanachirusato was the very first illustration in the entire series, and I was pretty happy with how she turned out... otherwise I probably wouldn't have continued with the rest! I also like Koremitsu's quite a bit as well, especially in terms of how the patches of ink break in ways that make me think of dapplings of light or rain. The inspiration is the scene in Chapter 15 Yomogiu (Waste of Weeds) when he makes his way through all the dew-drenched weeds to the house.

The full illustration series: http://www.humangray.com/genjimonogatari-series/

The card deck: https://www.thegamecrafter.com/games/genjimonogatari

Individual prints on INPRNT - for charity

The background in these photos is the back of The Tale of Genji - A Japanese Classic Illuminated, featuring Tosa Mitsuyoshi's depiction of Chapter 24 Kochi/Butterflies. You can see more about this series here. The book is actually the exhibit catalogue for a glorious exhibit at the Metropolitan Museum of Art back in 2019, an incredible showcase of fandom history across a millennium from Buddhist artifacts to manga. There were even rare objects on display for the first time outside of Japan from Ishiyamadera, the temple where, according to legend, Murasaki Shikibu wrote the novel. I sadly wasn't able to see it in person but the catalogue itself is also quite glorious.

[aot-snk-4238]

My thoughts on AOT No Requiem (Fanmade Ending) Part 1:

With another chapter of this story coming out soon, I thought now would be a good time to share my thoughts on the first part. Before I do that, though, I have a few things that I would like to get off my chest.

A part of me hates that this project exists. Not because I find it disrespectful, but because it serves as a bitter reminder of what a complete mess this ending caused among many fans. I'm still in disbelief how things got so bad so quickly. First, you've got the people who hated it. People began turning on Isayama and calling him a terrible or incompetent writer, regretting ever getting into the series, insisting that it was worse than Game of Thrones, the list goes on and on. People who liked the ending are now endlessly referred to as "ending defenders" or more crude names like "Isayama cockriders," as though they're a bunch of incompetent fools who don't know the first thing about reading comprehension all because they just happened to like it. And then of course you've got the other extreme end of the spectrum where the ones who were disappointed are accused of not understanding the story or they're only upset because their favorite ship or fan theory didn't become canon. This, too, is very demeaning and invalidating for those who grew up with this series that they gave their heart to and cherished for so long, only to have it do what they felt was a complete 180 at the very last second that undid every part of the story they thought was special and unique. It's one of the hardest slaps to the face you can get as a reader and long-time fan, and while I can't fully relate to everyone's feelings, I can at least understand and acknowledge that it's there and it shouldn't be laughed at. Now with all of that out of the way, here are my thoughts and analysis of this fanmade ending and how it differs from Isayama's.

To start things off, I found that part 1 started off similar to how 137 did in the canon manga, with Armin and Zeke conversing in PATHS. The biggest difference would be kid Eren being transported there and seeing his older self. To be fair though, this chapter was only about half the length of what we're used to reading, so I'm sure we'll get a lot more in part 2 onwards.

While Zeke is enlightening Armin on the history of the earth and how the life form that attached itself to Ymir sought to avoid death forever, young Eren is in PATHS too with his older self, witnessing the moment Ymir found the tree and fell in it to become the first titan. At first, there is no dialogue exchanged between them. They just hold hands and watch. Meanwhile, Zeke is still talking to Armin about Ymir and how she continued to serve her oppressive master despite acquiring godlike powers that would allow her to obliterate him whenever she pleased. This is where the team working on this project attempt to provide their own alternate possibilities as to why this happened in a way that would make more sense than what we were given in the canon story in which she simply had a severe case of Stockholm Syndrome and couldn't let him go no matter how much he made her suffer.

So what are these new possibilities? They come in the form of a question, so their validity is not made absolutely certain, but they're presented as the most likely candidates nonetheless.

According to Zeke, she was unable to separate her own desires from King Fritz and was a lost girl who sought meaning. A place to belong. Tragically, King Fritz was the only connection she had in her life, so she clung to it with everything she had despite it being toxic and abusive. I could argue that these are the very reasons why she supposedly loved the king in the official manga, as explained by Eren in 139, but they weren't explained or touched on as plainly as they were here. I feel like they could have been if Isayama had just been given more time, but sadly the whole thing was rushed and underdeveloped.

Moving on, Zeke states that despite his efforts in trying to understand Ymir and her feelings, it was Eren who ultimately was able to get to her and offer her the choice of freedom. The next page transitions to young Eren standing in the clouds with his arms spread out and a smile on his face just like in the official 137, only this time 19yo Eren is next to him. Now I'm going to be honest here, this is where things started to get a little corny for me. Yeah. I know a lot of people hate that argument, but that's just how it felt to me. And before I say anything else, I want everybody to know that I am in no way about to mock anyone's fondness of this Eren over the one we saw in 139, even if it was a little over-the-top. It's perfectly fine to prefer one over the other, I'm just going to try to explain myself the best I can without coming across as harsh or unprofessional.

Eren is drawn in these panels to be a stone-faced, determined and unstoppable force who will "keep moving forward until his enemies are destroyed." This is the Eren that many people grew most familiar with throughout the series, despite his occasional breakdowns, but something about the way it was executed just felt a little too overdramatic and exaggerated. For me, the contrast between this Eren and the Eren we were presented with in 139 is too jarring. It came across to me as the fandom's idealized version of Eren, the "chad" Eren if you will, rather than Isayama's portrayal of Eren who is cold and determined, but has also been experiencing stunted mental growth ever since the day he saw his mother get eaten; side note: I know that Eren himself was responsible for his mother's death, but that's a discussion for a later time. Not only that, but the "keep moving forward" line starts to get overused at this point. We already heard Eren say this a number of times before 137 where this first fanmade chapter takes place, so I didn't find it necessary to include that at the end, but it seemed to be the writers' way of trying to reinforce Eren's ultimate goal.

Regarding the rest of the chapter, young Eren asks older Eren what Ymir is still waiting for after he showed her that she's not alone. 19yo Eren proceeds to explain that while he was able to make her feel something again, she still needs somebody to free her. He shows his younger self all of the visions from PATHS that he's seen so far, ranging from past events to alternate realities to things that couldn't be changed no matter what. Now there is only one path left that he strives toward. The one that he believes will grant him and his people freedom. This next line is the one that stood out to me the most throughout this fanmade chapter. Still talking to kid Eren, adult Eren says, "When you wake up, you will forget what you learned, but not what you felt here. This will all feel just like a long dream." Only when he kisses Historia's hand will it all come back to him. This line more clearly explains why Eren woke up crying in chapter 1, but couldn't remember why. Then he circles back to how he intends to carry out his own plan to end the cycle of hatred once and for all. Despite his efforts along the way, he couldn't change the flow of PATHS and save the friends he lost or prevent certain events from happening altogether, so he had to accept that sacrifices had to be made. In this case, he will have to literally sacrifice the world, much to Armin's horror.

To wrap this up, I'm going to finish comparing this to the canon 137, but since the first part of this project only covers the PATHS portion of it, that's where I'll stop as well. To save a little but of time, I'm just gonna be lazy and copy the first part of a quick overview of the chapter I found as part of the wiki:

So clearly, canon 137 starts off focusing a lot more on Armin and Zeke's differing philosophies and does not provide any further insight into Eren's ultimate motives like this one does, at least not yet. Armin and Eren are bound to face off soon in this fanmade version, but it looks to me like this time the writers are planning on flipping the outcome and having Eren come out victorious instead, especially when I remember the name of this project and what it's based on. I guess that means that in a way, I already know what's ultimately going to happen throughout the rest of this project. Whether it's going to be considered superior to the actual ending is going to depend on if its executed properly. I could very well be wrong about some of this, though. I want to give it a fair shot since these people have clearly put a lot of hard work and passion into this, so I will refrain from further judgement until we get the full picture. On a side note, I just want to say that the artwork is beautiful so far and I commend every artist responsible for their efforts. I also liked the song choice at the beginning and thought it set the mood pretty well.

Thank you to everyone who read the whole thing. This took me far longer to write than it should have because I'm not always good at expressing myself in a way that does not come across as confusing or contradictory. I will continue to share my thoughts as more content is released, which by the looks of it could be any day now.

[russieraholic]

I wrote a (very) short Yiga Husbands story, because I really need to get back into the mood of writing on my own time again. Be warned, it’s pretty angsty and unpolished, but I thought it was still good enough to post.

Copyright © @russieraholic. Do not Re-post. (By the way, Reblogging is different than Reposting! Reblogs are appreciated!) I should also mention that if anyone wants to make artwork, continuations, or spinoffs of this story you’re welcome to! Just tag and credit me in your work (because well, that’s not only the right thing to do, but I want to see it too!) (Though I heavily doubt this will become viral.)

Writing theft is art theft!

Sheer, frigid winds were commonplace in the desolate, snowy Tabantha Tundra. Really it was more of a large valley, but that is precisely why the wind tunneling was so fierce and brutal. The snow was at least three feet deep and made traversing the landscape hell, if hell could freeze over.

For Sooga, that seemed to be the case. An endless frigid hell. Despite being wrapped snugly in several coats, and numerous scarves covering all but his one good eye, the air still gnawed at him with the cold teeth of a thousand winter wolves. He should not be here. He did not want to be here. But... Sooga had searched all of Hyrule for his beloved, and nothing, no place at all, had come to bear fruit. This was the last place he needed to scour.

Sooga had started the arduous journey in the southeast, working in a snaking pattern to cover practically every square inch of grass, dirt, gravel, sand and snow in the land. It had taken him weeks to do so- and he started as soon as he heard the news that Master Kohga had disappeared without a trace, in action. Usually Sooga never failed to accompany his beloved master in combat. It was a rare exception that he needed to stay back at the hideout, but tensions were high that day and he needed to hold down the fort.

How funny that the one day that the two were apart, was the day that Kohga vanished. It strongly led Sooga to believe that whatever happened, was planned by an outside force. Like an opportunistic predator, it had lied in wait for the perfect moment to strike. Sooga had a few suspects in mind, but most of them had plenty of evidence supporting that it was not them.

Astor, however, had been proving to be quite malevolent ever since he decided that the Yiga Clan was not worth his ‘precious time and energy’, so to speak. He had been taking soldiers down left and right, and had even broken into the hideout to steal goods more than once. It only made sense that the next step would be to harm the leader. In addition, strongly supporting this theory, he had disappeared in the same timeframe that Kohga had. It all fit together too perfectly.

Sooga got his head out of the clouds, steeling himself and continuing to scan the landscape, his eye catching anything that was not the flat white snow, or the frozen-over trees we had familiarized himself with. It was like identifying an out-of-place bump on a blank white canvas; difficult, but not impossible. Accompanying him was a Blademaster, and a handful of footsoldiers that doubled as medics, who were equally as cold as Sooga himself. They were doing their best to help with the search, but spent most of the time huddled closely together to conserve heat.

The man grumbled, slightly annoyed that his men were not taking the matter as seriously as they should have been. “Yiga Clan. I am fully aware that the circumstances are relentless. But the importance of finding our Master vastly outweighs any temporary discomfort that we experience. Stay vigilant. I did not select you few without reason. We must press on.”

After what felt like hours of searching, and likely was, in fact, almost an entire day, the group was just about to give up. However, at the very edge of the tundra, just before the land came to an abrupt stop and dropped off into a spine-chillingly deep trench, lay a lump of snow, that just barely caught the corner of Sooga’s eye. It was out of place, especially since it had just snowed and the tundra was for the most part, very flat. It looked a bit too large to be a wolf or fox, but too small to be a bear.

Strangely, Sooga felt an unrelenting force pressing him to investigate more. As he drew closer, inexplicably his heart started to sink. With every laborious step he took, it continued to plummet until it felt like a fifty-pound weight had replaced it. Yet he trudged on, needing to find out what lay beneath the snow layer.

He started to brush away the snow layer carefully, not wanting to scare whatever was under it, if it was a living thing. But what he started to uncover explained why he felt so drawn towards the location- and very quickly, the soft brushing of the snow away turned into frantic digging. Sooga’s soldiers finally caught up to him, and saw how frantic he was acting.

“HELP ME, DAMN YOU! DON’T JUST STAND THERE!” He barked.

Immediately the soldiers moved to help him and very quickly understood why Sooga snapped at them. It was a disgusting, grotesque sight to see. But they did it- they found Kohga. Which was their ultimate goal. Sooga had never cried before, but this was the end of that record. Salty tears were freezing to his cheek as they fell.

Poor Kohga was nothing short of absolutely mangled. The snow just around him was as red as the completely torn-up suit he wore. His left leg was sliced clean off, which was in fact so clean that it looked like someone had taken their time with a scalpel to slice every vein and artery with precision. His rib cage looked crushed, and there was a band tied tightly around his right wrist that had clearly cut off his circulation. His right hand was in an advanced state of necrosis.

The medics immediately checked for a pulse and any signs of life, as Sooga held the man in his arms. “It’s okay... I-It’s okay... you’re going to be okay... the pain is over now... I’m here....” he cried, unsure of who he truly was reassuring. Kohga, or himself.

A footsoldier looked to Sooga. “He’s alive but we’ve gotta get him back quick. I dunno what we’ll be able to do for him, if anything, but we’ll try...”

Sooga looked down, a searing pain in his heart. “Do it, then. There is no time to lose.”

The soldiers took hold of Kohga and in a puff of smoke and talismans, disappeared with him, back to the hideout where the medical team may or may not be able to stabilize him. It was a matter of luck, really, at this point. Sooga stayed behind, however. He stared at the bloodstained snow, trembling now not because he was cold, but because he was absolutely devastated. Regret, grief, and self-blame all started to plague his mind, like a dark storm cloud creeping over the land.

This was his fault. There were no two ways about it. He deserved a thousand times as much pain as Kohga was going through. That was just a fact, at this point. Common sense and self-preservation was the only thing keeping him from going to Astor and asking to be stabbed through the chest ten times by a rusty blade.

“Kohga...” was the only word that could escape Sooga’s lips.

[g0ldengubler]

chapter 7~instant crush

A/N: aaaaaa this chapter is so/so???? i guess it gets better at the end??? idk, i’m starting to get back into that “i’m not a good writer” mindset that i was in at the beginning of nauseous. i’m hoping to start writing another chapter super soon! i’m just stuck in rut and it’s showing in the chapters. i’ll work harder to make them better, but no promises. also listen to the song that the chapter was named after here. it’s literally one of my all time favorite songs on the planet lol. ok, i apologize in advance but i hope u still enjoy :)

Category: fluff

CW: smoking weed, mentions of toys and smoking tools and pieces

Word Count: 2680

before you read | last chapter | next chapter

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After what felt like days, you and Spencer had finally made it to your father's cabin. You hadn't been up north in years, all because you were so focused on getting your dream job. Driving down a dirt road, the smell of the trees mixed with rain had you feeling nostalgic, triggering memories of when you were a little girl, reading Charles Dickens under a tree or on the rocky shores of the lake. You couldn't wait to share these new memories here with him.

When you arrived in Michigan, you made sure you got all of your favorite goodies like Better Maid potato chips, Faygo's Rock'n'Rye, Vernors ginger ale, Superman ice cream, and you even made Spencer stop at your favorite pizza place, Buddy's, so you could get your favorite salad and a cheese pizza with light sauce and a crispy crust. He chuckled at how plain you like your pizza, but it was something you and your grandmother shared a loved for. You wanted Spencer to have as close to the Michigan experience he could because while you weren't in love with your home state, the small things you grew up with gave you joy.

The last errand you made before moving up north was to a dispo in Ann Arbor. Spencer couldn't go in with you, so you left him in the car (even though you wanted him to come in with you, he didn't have his card so it wouldn't work). Walking in, you showed the security guard your med card and continued your way through the store. Jars of bud covered the shelves on the wall. Glass showcases were filled with wax. Each strain (no matter what form) had labels in front of them, giving information about it and what it could do to help with any specific problem like joint pains or body spasms. You never really had a preference on what strain was best, nor got too picky if it was an indica, sativa, or hybrid.

You talked with a staff member and asked what they suggested. You ended up getting some Cherry Pie flower, joint papers, hemp blunt wraps, and a mini bbq lighter. Once you grabbed the goods, you headed out to suddenly notice a store that was at the outdoor mall next door. A smile grew on your face as you ran back to the car, set your bag down behind your seat, and grabbing Spencer by his hand and pulled him with you to the mall.

"Silly girl, I thought we were done with the errands?" He asked.

"One more stop," you said eagerly, "I promise. Plus, I think you'll get a little kick out of it."

A small building appeared as you made him stop in front of it. You saw him look up at the sign, looking a little confused. "There's a store with the same name as me?"

"Wait till you get inside." You giggled.

Those who weren't familiar with the store would think it was an edgier Hot Topic, but once you showed him what was in the back of Spencer's, you saw his jaw drop and couldn't hold in the laugh that was brewing in your throat. "Told you you'd get a little kick out of it."

"Well I thought you meant because of the fact it's called Spencer's, not because of all the...toys...they have."

"Are you getting ideas, Doctor?"

He straightened himself out and fixed his sweater. "I cannot confirm, nor deny your question."

"Dr.Spencer Reid," you giggled, slapping his arm softly, "naughty boy."

"Are you getting idea's, Agent L/N?"

You were quiet for a moment. "...maybe." you mumbled.

Spencer just laughs at the little banter you just had. "Let's save it for when we're home. It'll give me time to really think about it."

As you're left there speechless, your clouded mind is interrupted by the look on his face as he looks at the dick shaped candy they had.

"Ok, ok," you giggled, "let me go find what I'm looking for and then my errands are done. I'm ready to just sit back on the couch, put a fire on, and relax."

From there you went to the middle of the store, where you grabbed a green rolling tray with a panda on his back smoking a joint, a hot pink grinder, and a game controller ashtray before going up to the cashier to pay. You then headed back to the car and headed off to the cabin.

The cabin hadn't changed a bit, with its Christmas lights still hung and the skeleton that was sitting on the porch chair. You thought maybe your dad did all this while you two were on your way, but whatever the reason, you could tell that Spencer was already in love with it once he saw the skeleton. You forgot how big the cabin was. It wasn't small like a fairy's cottage, but you could say it was smaller than Rossi's mansion.

The smell of pine needles and fire smoke filled your head with nostalgia as you entered. You dropped your bags and plopped on the couch. You felt at home, and with Spencer, the feeling was stronger than you could've ever felt. You let out a big sigh, smiling as you hold one of the couch pillows to your chest.

"If your father built this cabin, he's the genius not me." Spencer joked as he moved your legs over so he could sit down next to you. He let your legs rest on his lap, rubbing your legs awkwardly, giving you that awkward white guy smile.

"How about you put the bags in the bedroom and then we'll go exploring," you said as you adjusted your position, using the armrest as support, "I haven't been here in years and I'm feeling very nostalgic."

"Sounds like a plan!...um..." Spencer looks around the living room, trying to find the bedroom.

"Oh, sorry! It's straight down that hall on your left." You pointed over to the hallway next to him. Once he saw the open doors to the bedroom he grabbed your bags and sat them down. You got up as he walked to the room and started exploring. You started in the kitchen, looking back on the times you'd bake the most gooey chocolate chip cookies as your dad cooked the family stew. Your father always had a hobby for making food, didn't matter if it was a meaty dish or a beautiful dessert. You thought nothing could beat your father's cooking, and that became especially true when you went to college.

As you were walking to the hall, you noticed Spencer admire the artwork that was hanging on the walls. "Did you know that the first log cabins that were built in America were emigrants from Sweden and Finland?" He asked. "They had been building them for 1,000 years, prior to coming here."

"That's very interesting," you said loudly as I walked to my old room, "I didn't know that." Something you always loved was to listen to people talk. Spencer was known for rambling about something when he should've been keeping it case related. He'd start off with giving them what they wanted to know, but then get so excited that he kept going on. It was something you did, too, but only around those you were comfortable around and that was very rare.

As he continued to ramble facts about the paintings, you looked around the familiar room that felt a bit distant. Your dad had turned your old room into an office. All the bright lilac walls had turned to gray, and your bed with a matching white desk were replaced with a black leather couch and a black, very sophisticated desk. Pictures of the two of you mixed with Red Wing merchandise hung on the walls and sat at his desk.

"Uuuuhh, Y/N?" Spencer called, "you might want to see this!

With a confused look on your face, you walked out of the office and back out to the living room where you see him hold a ziplock bag. Inside was a small stash of something similar that you bought that day.

"Where did you find all that weed?" you asked.

"I was looking at the books on this bookcase and as I took one out to explore further, this fell out with it."

You start exploring on your own. It had to be here. It'd make complete sense.

"What are you looking for?"

You ignore him for a moment before finding it. That son of a bitch.

You show Spencer the glass piece you found, the light in the room making its blue accent glow.

"Is that a erlenmeyer flask?" He asked, looking puzzled.

You couldn't help but laugh at his innocence. "You're cute," you said, "but no, it's a bong! My dad's a sneaker bastard. I never knew he smoked-" you stopped in your tracks for a moment, thinking. "...I don't know how I feel about that information."

Spencer chuckles as you go through your mini life crisis. You notice his eyes then move in different directions. It took you a minute to realize what he was looking at. He would look at you, then look at the bong, then at the bag of weed, and continue the cycle. A grin fell upon your face, making Spencer grin a evil, yet goofy smile.

"Let's get comfortable first," you propose, "I'll heat up our pizza's and grab the salads, you grab the rock'n'rye and then we'll get to smokiiin."

Without a second thought, the two of you rushed to get into pajamas. You both had decided that Christmas pajamas was the way to go with how cold it was going to be. Coming out of the bedroom as Spencer came out of the bathroom, you both laugh at the fact that you pretty much had the same theme going. While Spencer was wearing a red long sleeve with the vintage coke'a'cola Santa Clause, you wore a white fitted shirt with the coke's'cola polar bears on it. Your pants were pretty much the same red and black checkered flannels, but while Spencer wore just regular slippers, you had on Rudolph the red nose reindeer fuzzy socks.

After heating up the pizza and pouring the drinks, your grab your food and went for the couch. You sat it on the coffee table in front of you before grabbing the bong, along with the bag and your grinder. As you began to grind the flower, you looked over to Spencer, who seemed to be really loving the pop through the nervousness on his face.

"Are you sure you want to try smoking out of a bong, Spence?" you asked, "Because you don't have to if you're too nervous."

"No no, I do want to! I'm just getting excited that's all."

"You're ok with your mouth being on the same place mine has?"

He was quiet for a moment. "No spit will be on this," you explain, taking the look on his face as a maybe, "but we have our napkins if you want to wipe."

"Ok, good!" He sighed out of relief.

Once the bud was grounded, you took some out with your fingers and packed it in the bowl, rubbing your fingers together to get some of the sticky stuff off. You then put on some music from you groovy playlist on your phone, connecting it to the bluetooth speakers that surrounded the room.

As you put your mouth on the top, lighting the bowl, you move the flame over half of it, letting Spencer have the other half. You felt eyes burning on you as you took the bowl out and inhaled. You held the smoke in your lungs for a few moments before a cloud formed in front of your face.

You handed the bong and lighter to Spencer, showing him what to do. You reminded him to inhale as he held the flame to the bowl. You watch as he did exactly what you did, copying your movements from memory. When he exhaled, the cloud of smoke was a bit bigger than yours was, you were shocked that he didn't have a coughing fit afterward.

He sat it down on the coffee table and sat back on the couch, letting the sensations take over his body. You grabbed the bong again and took another hit, handing it to Spencer afterward. He surprisingly took it from your hands and took another rip. You ended up doing this a few more times until your grinder was empty. You took the last bong rip, setting it back down and slouched on the couch.

By this time, the munchies had kicked in. You both devoured your dinner in a matter of minutes. But the tingles slowly left your body once you finished, so you grabbed the bong and your grinder again. This time, you took the bottom part off, looking at the leftover bits of the bud that turned into almost a powder form. You then grabbed your bag from the dispo that was sitting on the table next to you, and grabbed the flower you had bought. You took the cherry pie bud out of its container and ground it up.

You looked over to Spencer, who was just feeling the music. He looked very much relaxed, staring at the ceiling fan that hung above them.

After taking a huge rip from the bong, you coughed out a bit as you sat it back down. Without even realizing, you sneaked your way under his arm, laying your head on his chest. He put his arms around you, letting you snuggle into him.

With the light of the moon now being your only source of light, and the song Instant Crush playing in the background, you felt safe in his arms. Nothing could've ruined this moment. All you wanted was him and him alone.

"You're like a beautiful dragon, Y/N." You heard Spencer say.

You look up at him with a confused look on your face. "What do you mean by that?"

"When you exhaled. When I exhaled, even. We were like dragons blowing fire. It was so cool."

He was definitely gone, it was pretty obvious. But hearing him babble on and on about being dragons made you smile and giggle. It was contagious, making Spencer giggle with you, and then you couldn't stop. Your stomach and cheeks were hurting at this point.

Once the giggling calmed down, you looked up at him, as he looked down at you. Without a thought in mind, you both leaned and kissed. Your lips hovered over the other for a moment, before leaning back in, your lips melting together as your tongues attacked the other. His right hand in your hair, and his left cupping the side of your face.

After a minute, Spencer broke away and spoke. "I don't care what we are right now," he said, "we can talk about that another time. Right now, I just want you."

You smiled and went back in. He smiled through the kiss, letting tongue go back to where it belonged.

And there you stayed, kissing here and there, taking a few more hits before you both passed out on the couch, your arms still around the other.

[puppyluver256]

[Image Description: A digital illustration of Trevor Garbo from Smile For Me caught in a rainstorm at night. Trevor is a teen boy with olive skin, auburn hair, and green eyes with yellow sclera. He is wearing a long teal coat, a green striped scarf, a yellow shirt with purple trim, blue pants, and red and pink high-heeled shoes. His coat is pulled up over his head as he runs down a sidewalk and past a tree in an effort to get out of the downpour sooner. End ID.]

-----

A drop of some sort of liquid fell onto Trevor’s face. He looked up, half expecting in his paranoid mindset that the liquid might turn out to be blood dripping from some animal left in the trees by a predator looking for a better location than the ground to eat its dinner, and that was the best case scenario his mind was formulating. However, there were no dripping animal carcasses above him, not even any tree branches from which such a thing could hang. Instead it was cloud cover, now obscuring that beautiful full moon, and the liquid falling from said clouds was water.

Rain... Trevor hadn’t thought about rain. He didn’t have an umbrella on his person.

+++++

More 101 Smiles :D Trevor needs to not go for nightwalks so often, something could go wrong sometime, more than just rain... Speaking of the rain, I think I made it too Much given this is supposed to be the start of the rain, but in my defense I'm not practiced in drawing rain yet hehe.

💖🐶 Check out my pinned post for ways to support my artwork, among other things! 🐶💖

~If you like, please reblog to show your friends! Likes are appreciated, but reblogs let more people see my content! If you have something to say, feel free to give feedback in tags/comments/replies as well!~

Trevor Garbo © LimboLane Artwork © PuppyLuver Studios

[illfoandillfie]

uhm if you still need and want a benny boi request: hiking with him and soft sex by the fireplace to warm up 🥺 or in the tent bc it's probably pretty cold ngl

(@queenmylovely​)

God you bitches get me. These prompts are wonderful and came in about 30 seconds apart lmao so i hope you like what I did with them!

warnings: smut but its like super somft and fluffy, also a lil bit of arguing

Blurb Advent: Day 16

The trip wasn’t exactly what you’d imagined it would be. Initially you’d been planning to get away during Summer, maybe head to the beach for a couple of weeks, spend your time relaxing in the sun, hitting the waves. But the timing never quite worked out and the whole idea of going away was put on hold until it had cooled down again. And of course, once it became clear the trip would be in winter, you had to stop thinking of the beach and find somewhere new to go. Luckily (you supposed) a family friend of Ben’s had a cabin in the woods that he was happy to let you use. You weren’t quite as thrilled with it as you would have been a little beach side cottage, but you really just wanted some time for you and Ben without other distractions and he wanted to get out of the city. And neither of you wanted to wait another six months for the break. So the arrangements were made and early on a Friday morning you grumbled your way out of bed and into the warmest clothes you owned, packing everything into the car, ready to head off on your holiday.

 The cabin was cute, surrounded by tall trees and the promise of picturesque views. A generator had been installed a few years previous to allow access to electricity and there was a large rain tank to collect water for all the plumbing systems. You had been warned that in dryer weather you may need to seek out the nearby well to collect water for drinking and cooking. There’d been a lot of rain in the previous month so you didn’t think you’d need to worry about it but, all the same, you kept it in mind, adding a few metal water bottles to your essential supplies (which included things like food, the makings of tea and coffee, toothpaste and condoms). On top of the essentials you also made sure to pack Ben’s guitar and your travel paint set in the hopes that the seclusion and nature would inspire you both.

 The first day was mostly spent getting there and unpacking. When you arrived, you had to carry all your gear up a short incline that the car couldn’t access but it was worth it when you saw the scene. It was gorgeous, the surrounding woods a little damp with fresh rainfall, the cabin looking cozy and warm and perfect for a romantic getaway. You spent the morning putting food in the fridge and poking around the cabin, getting the doors and windows open to let in some air and natural light. In the afternoon you checked out the store of firewood and decided to collect some more so that it would have time to dry out under cover before you needed it. Together, bundled up in warm coats and gloves, you walked around the immediate area, collecting any logs that looked large enough as well as smaller sticks for kindling. In the evening you made dinner together and settled in for a night on the couch, wrapped in as many blankets as you could get your hands on. Things had been so busy lately you almost didn’t know what to do with yourself now that you were taking a break from it all. But the chaos you’d been living in had meant you didn’t get much of a chance to talk to Ben properly so that was what you did. Snuggled up on the couch and talked, finally able to just be together.

 The next day Ben suggested you check out the surrounding area, follow the hiking trail up the hill and see what was out there. There were practical reasons like finding the well just in case you did need it, but mostly it was just for fun. You each filled a backpack with a water bottle and some food as well as a grabbing a small first aid kit, some bug spray to combat the mosquitos you’d noticed the night before, and your paints. Ben slung his guitar over his back and you set off. The walk itself was fine though there were a few steep places on the trail. Ben used them as an excuse to hold your hand, getting a few steps higher and then offering his to help you follow. It was silly but cute and you found yourself giggling whenever he did it. It was quiet too, which was nice. You didn’t meet any other people on the trail but that meant you could stop and point out creatures that crossed your path or pause to take photos of interesting plants and pretty views you might like to paint later.

 At the top of the hill was a little lookout area with a park bench. Since you seemed to have it to yourself you unpacked your bags and ate lunch looking out over the tops of the trees below. As you ate you pulled out your sketchbook and started to draw things you could see, going over some with paints and leaving others as just the outline. Ben pulled out his guitar and found a small spot to lean against a tree and play softly, his eyes closed as he plucked at the strings. It was tranquil and peaceful and perfect. Or nearly perfect. You hadn’t noticed it as much while you were walking but now that you were standing still you realised just how freezing cold it was. For a while you tried to ignore it but eventually you had to speak up.

“Benny? Are you getting cold? My fingers are starting to freeze, maybe we should think about heading back?”

Ben dropped into the seat beside you and grabbed your hands in his, “I’ll warm them up for you.”

“That’s cute,” you smiled, not mentioning how unhelpful of a suggestion it was, “But I’m serious. The walk up here took a while anyway, might be best to start heading back down now, before it starts getting dark and even colder. Plus I don’t like the look of those clouds,” you pointed to a dark patch of sky off in the distance.

Ben eyed the rainclouds and thought for a moment, “Alright, you make a good point. Let’s pack up.”

 As quickly as you could you packed everything back into your bags and began to make your way back down the slope. Walking did help warm you up again though you couldn’t help but mention your need to defrost in front of the fire. And your discomfort only got worse as the rain began. The trees protected you a little but not enough and before long your teeth were chattering and your toes felt numb. Ben was just as unhappy, his hair dripping onto his face as he snapped at you to hurry up. He got particularly cranky when you paused to take a photo of the pretty haze the rain had thrown over one of the scenes you’d photographed on your way up, the roof of your cabin just visible through the trees.

“All your fucking complaining and now you want to stop to take pictures? Jesus Christ.”

“Hey, if it wasn’t for me you’d still be sitting up at the fucking lookout twiddling your thumbs.”

“You’re so fucking full of it. And slow! Could you walk a little faster please!” Ben tried to grab your hand and pull you along but you shook him off.

“It’s not my fault my feet feel like ice blocks. I didn’t even want to come out to this stupid cabin.”

“You’re the one who was practically begging for me to take you somewhere.”

“Yeah but not a fucking cabin in the middle of nowhere. This is the start of a horror film Ben. You brought me to a horror film.”

“Y’know this isn’t exactly what I wanted either. I was hoping for something a little more romantic, a little less bitching.”

“Well I think you’ve put paid to that.” You spat back, dropping your eyes to your feet so you could watch the terrain you were walking over, not wanting to slip in case Ben decided to walk ahead.

 You were surprised when Ben held his hand out to you, offering his help to get down a particularly uneven patch of the path, but you took it all the same.

“Sorry,” he said softly, keeping his hand tight around yours, “I know this isn’t ideal.”

“It was lovely up until the rain,” you shrugged, “Sorry I stopped before, and that I’ve been winging so much,”

“Hey, you’re allowed to winge, especially when your idiot boyfriend gets you stuck freezing to death in the middle of nowhere,” he squeezed your hand reassuringly, “but maybe he can make it up to you when you get back to the cabin?”

“How?”

“I’m thinking we get the fire going and sit as close to it as we can until we’re warm. I can make us some hot chocolate and then maybe we whip up a curry for dinner? Something really hot.”

You chucked and nodded, “Sounds good. Can I make one request?” “What is it?” “Can we cuddle? While we’re in front of the fire?”

“The cuddling was implied. It’s the most romantic thing I can think of so of course we’re cuddling.”

“You’re not an idiot Ben. And walking in the rain is kind of romantic, especially when there’s a fire to go back to.”

Ben pulled your hand up to his lips, kissing the back of it as you walked.

 By the time you got back to the cabin you were damp through, though your shoes felt completely soaked. Ben was true to his word though, peeling off his jacket and bending over the fireplace as he told you to go and get changed. You dug out clean, dry clothes, throwing Ben’s hoodie over the top. You grabbed all the blankets you could and came out to a fire coming to life as Ben hurried off to change. While he was gone you dropped the blankets on the floor, a little back from the fireplace, creating a sort of nest for the two of you.

“You stole my hoodie,” Ben pouted.

“Can’t blame me, it’s so warm and soft and I look cute in it,”

He chucked as he took his place beside you, wrapping his arms around you, “all of that is very true.”

For a while you just sat together, letting the feeling come back to your fingers and toes. Ben asked to see the photos you’d taken, pointing out scenery he thought would make nice artwork, and especially anything you could hang on the walls at home.

“I hope your sketchbook didn’t get too wet”

“I don’t think the rain got into the bags too much. What about your guitar?”

“It should be fine, it’s been in worse weather. Sorry I was short with you before,” he said quietly, his nose bumping your cheek.

You turned your head towards him, “It’s alright. I’m sorry too.”

He kissed you softly, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek.

You sighed against his lips and shifted to better face him, discouraging him from moving away.

 Ben kissed you slowly and deeply, as if he intended to just keep kissing you all night. But gradually his hands began to wander too, fingertips lightly tracing patterns over your sides as they slipped further down. You hummed at the touch, mirroring him, trailing your fingers down his chest and stomach. Slowly, he inched the hem of the hoodie higher until he could pull it over your head. You didn’t mind, plenty warm from the fire and Ben’s embrace.

“This okay?” Ben asked between small kisses along the corner of your mouth, his fingers already tugging at your shirt.

“Mmhmm, very,”

He nodded and lifted your shirt over your head, keeping his arms up so you could do the same to him.

He didn’t rush, leisurely following the line of your throat with his lips, humming in response to your whimpers and mewls. You were already wet when he wriggled his hand under the band of your leggings, exacerbating your arousal as he stroked along your slit.

 Once he had your pants off he rolled you onto your front, making sure you were comfortable amongst all the blankets, the heat of the fire washing over you. Gently, he hooking his fingers into the top of your underwear, pulling them down your legs, leaving soft kisses on your lower back and arse and thighs.

“Give me two seconds, babe,” he whispered, tugging his own pants off and leaning over to grab one of your backpacks.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, looking over your shoulder at the noise.

“Might have thrown a couple of condoms in here, just in case.”

“In case? In case of what?”

“I don’t know. In case the view made you super horny or we wandered into a fairy ring and ended up kidnapped by pervert fairies. Just, y’know, in case.”

“You’re so stupid,” you laughed, tapping him with your foot as you lay down again, your arms folded under your head.

“I was just preparing for any eventuality.”

“Mmm well, you might want to hurry up and prepare or else I’m gonna fall asleep here. It’s very comfortable,”

“Don’t do that, hang on,” You heard Ben tear at the wrapper and then swear and then tear it again as you laughed into your arms.

“Alright, ready. You still awake,”

“Surprisingly, yes,”

“Good,” his voice was close to your ear as he lay over you, cocooning you in his warmth as he entered you from behind.

You moaned into your arm as he slowly rocked into you, his chest against your back as he braced himself on arms either side of you. There wasn’t much scope for anything fast or hard but it was intimate, his cock pressed against your g-spot so that every slight shift of his hips sent a jolt of pleasure through you.

Ben kissed your shoulder and left his lips there as he mumbled, “feel good?”

“Mmhmm, fucking incredible,”

“Mmm, you feel incredible too.”

You pushed your self up and looked around for Ben. Within seconds he was kissing you again, tongue dragging over your lips as another jolt shot though you and you gasped.

 For a while you stayed like that, your movements lazy and slow. But it wasn’t enough to push you over the edge, even with Ben groaning in your ear or sucking at your pulse point.

“I need more Ben,”

“Alright, babe, if I pull out are you good to roll over?”

You nodded, catching him in another kiss to show your appreciation.

Once you were on your back, leaning on your forearms, Ben adjusted his position, his legs falling between yours as he lined himself up once more. He wasn’t much deeper but the angle was different and you felt Ben hit a spot he hadn’t reached before as he leaned over you and attached his lips to your neck again.

“Fuck, Ben,” The fire was still burning, heating your opposite side as you threw your arm around Ben, digging your nails into his back as he gave an experimental thrust.

“This better?” “Yeah. You make me feel so good,”

Ben smiled and lay you back further, so he didn’t have to hold himself up with his arms, instead allowing him to slide one hand between you to softly play with your clit.

You grasped at his back as his hips snapped against yours harder, his fingers constantly rubbing at your clit.

“C’mon, babe, you’re close aren’t you.”

You nodded again, feeling as if you’d lost the ability to form words as your back arched. Everything was warm and comfortable – the fire and the blankets and Ben’s low voice, mumbling encouragement between kisses – and before you fully comprehended it was happening, your orgasm washed over you, pulling Ben’s name from your throat. He mirrored you a few seconds later, groaning your name as he stilled, his forehead falling to meet yours.

Carefully he rolled off you and you shuffled around to lean your head on his chest, still mostly tucked up in your blanket nest.

It was quiet for a moment as you both settled, your breathing falling into sync as you watched the fire and listened to the rain that had only gotten heavier while you were wrapped up in each other.

Suddenly Ben spoke, his tone more than a little braggy, “How’s that for romantic.”