#How to use Canva for POD

[cozidreamsreimagine]

How to Create Designs That Work for Your Print-on-Demand Business

Running a print-on-demand business is both exciting and challenging. Whether you're selling on platforms like Redbubble or managing your own store, creating designs that resonate with your audience is the key to success. But how do you craft designs that not only look great but also sell? In this blog post, I’ll guide you through the process of creating designs that work for your print-on-demand business, with tips and tricks tailored to help you stand out in a competitive market. Let’s dive in!

Why Design Matters in Print-on-Demand

In the world of print-on-demand, your designs are your product. Unlike traditional retail, you’re not selling physical inventory—you’re selling ideas. Your customers are drawn to your creativity, so your designs need to:

- Capture attention: Bold, unique designs stand out in search results.

- Resonate with your audience: People buy designs that align with their personality, values, or interests.

- Fit the product: A design that looks great on a t-shirt might not work on a mug or phone case.

Understanding these principles is the first step to creating designs that work for your business.

Step 1: Know Your Niche

The most successful print-on-demand businesses are niche-focused. Instead of trying to appeal to everyone, target a specific audience.

- Research your audience: Who are they? What are their interests, hobbies, or values?

- Find trending niches: Use tools like Google Trends or Redbubble’s trending searches to discover what’s popular.

- Create for your passion: If you’re passionate about your niche, it will show in your designs.

For example, if your niche is cozy, minimalist designs, you could create products that appeal to people who love hygge-inspired aesthetics.

Step 2: Brainstorm Unique Design Ideas

Once you’ve identified your niche, it’s time to brainstorm ideas. Here’s how to get started:

- Use keyword research: Tools like Redbubble’s search bar or Pinterest Trends can help you find popular themes.

- Look for inspiration: Check out competitors, social media, or even nature for fresh ideas.

- Think seasonally: Holidays, seasons, and special events are great opportunities for themed designs.

Pro tip: Keep a notebook or digital folder for design ideas. Inspiration can strike at any time!

Step 3: Master the Tools of the Trade

You don’t need to be a professional graphic designer to create stunning designs. With the right tools, anyone can make high-quality artwork.

- Free design tools: Canva, GIMP, and Inkscape are great for beginners.

- Professional software: Adobe Photoshop and Illustrator offer advanced features for experienced designers.

- Mockup generators: Use tools like Placeit to see how your designs will look on products.

If you’re new to design, start simple. Minimalist designs with clean lines and bold typography are often bestsellers.

Step 4: Optimize Your Designs for Products

Not all designs work on every product. To maximize sales, tailor your designs to fit specific items.

- Consider placement: A design that looks great on a t-shirt might need adjustments for a mug or sticker.

- Use high-resolution files: Print-on-demand platforms require high-quality images to ensure sharp prints.

- Test your designs: Upload them to mockup tools to see how they look on different products.

For example, if you’re creating a design for a phone case, make sure the key elements aren’t cut off by the edges or camera hole.

Step 5: Write SEO-Friendly Titles and Tags

Even the best designs won’t sell if no one can find them. That’s where SEO comes in.

- Use relevant keywords: Include terms your audience is searching for, like “minimalist phone case” or “funny coffee mug.”

- Write descriptive titles: Instead of “Cool Design,” try “Retro Sunset Design for T-Shirts and Stickers.”

- Add detailed tags: Use a mix of broad and specific tags to improve your visibility.

For example, if your design is a cozy winter illustration, your tags might include “winter mug,” “cozy vibes,” and “holiday gift ideas.”

Step 6: Promote Your Designs

Creating great designs is only half the battle—you also need to market them.

- Leverage social media: Share your designs on Instagram, Pinterest, and TikTok.

- Engage with your audience: Respond to comments and messages to build a loyal following.

- Collaborate with influencers: Partner with creators who align with your niche to reach a wider audience.

You can share behind-the-scenes content, like your design process or mockups, to connect with your audience on a personal level.

Step 7: Analyze and Improve

Finally, track your performance to see what’s working and what’s not.

- Check your analytics: Platforms like Redbubble provide insights into your sales and traffic.

- Experiment with new designs: Test different styles, themes, or niches to see what resonates.

- Listen to feedback: Pay attention to customer reviews and comments to improve your designs.

Remember, success in print-on-demand is a marathon, not a sprint. Keep learning and adapting as you go.

Final Thoughts

Creating designs that work for your print-on-demand business takes time, creativity, and strategy. By understanding your niche, mastering design tools, and optimizing your listings for SEO, you can build a successful shop that stands out from the crowd.

You have the power to turn your ideas into products that people love. So, what are you waiting for? Start creating today and watch your business grow!

Looking for unique, cozy designs that inspire and stand out? Visit my Redbubble shop to explore a collection of creative products made just for you!

[bamsara]

Hello! I was wondering what company you use for your sticker sheets? I bough one from your Ko-Fi shop and really like the quality, and the pricing you were able to sell at is waaaaaay more reasonable compared to any of the companies I've seen and used myself. Is it a POD company, or a mass purchase of them to sell on your own?

Thank you for your time if you're able to respond!

I'm really glad you like the quality, because I actually make them by hand at home! (Please forgive the lighting, my bedroom is my office lmao.)

I don't use a company (and Idk what a POD company is sorry!) but making them at home gives a lot more freedom of stock, just be wary it can be very time consuming depending on how many you need to make.

I've had other people ask before, so here's a rundown of how I make my stickers at home: At most you'll need:

Printer

Sticker paper (this is the type that I use)

Laminator and lamination paper (the lamination paper that I use.) You can also use adhesive non-heat lamination paper if you don't have a laminator, gives you the same result, just be careful of bubbles. You will get double your worth out of a pack because we are splitting the pouches to cover two sticker sheets.

Your choice of a sticker cutting machine or just using scissors.

First, I use Cricut's software to print out the sticker sheet with the guidelines around the corners so the machine can read it. If you do NOT have a Cricut machine, open up your art program, make a canvas of 2550x3300 and fill it up with your sticker design with some cutting space between them. This the 8.5x11 size for the sticker page.

I usually have bleed selected so the cut comes out cleaner. Tip for non-Cricut users below: Increase the border around your sticker design to fake the 'bleed' effect for a cleaner cut.

These are the print settings I use for my printer. I use the 'use system dialogue' to make sure I can adjust the settings otherwise it prints out low quality by default. Make sure if you're using the above paper that you have 'matte' selected, and 'best quality' selected, these aren't usually selected by default.

So you have your sticker sheet printed! Next is the lamination part. I use a hot laminator that was gifted to me, but there is no-heat types of lamination you can peel and stick on yourself if that's not an option.

(This is for protection and makes the colors pop, but if you prefer your stickers matte, you can skip to the cutting process.)

Important for Cricut users or those planning to get a Cricut: You're going to cut the lamination page to cover the stickers while also not covering the guidelines in the corners. First, take your lamination page and lay it over the sheet, take marker/pen and mark were the edges of your stickers are, and cut off the excess:

(I save the scrap to use for smaller stickers or bonuses later on)

After you've cut out your lamination rectangle, separate the two layers and lay one down on your sticker sheet over your stickers with matte side down, shiny side up. (Save the other sheet for another sticker page)

The gloss of the lamination will prevent the machine from reading the guidelines, so be careful not to lay it over them. It also helps to cut the corners afterwards to prevent accidentally interfering with the guidelines.

Now put that bad boy in the laminator! (Or self seal if you are using non-heat adhesive lamination)

Congrats! You now have a laminated page full of stickers.

For non-cricut/folks cutting them out by hand: this is the part where you start going ham on the page with scisscors. Have fun~

Cutting machine: I put the page on a cutting mat and keep it aligned in the corner, and feed it into the machine. For laminated pages I go between 'cardstock' and 'poster board' so that it cuts all the way through without any issues, but for non-laminated pages or thinner pages, I stick for 'vinyl' and 'light card stock'. Kinda test around.

Now I smash that go button:

You have a sticker now!

The pros of making stickers at home is that you save some cost, and you have more control of your stock and how soon you can make new designs. (I can't really afford to factory produce my stickers anyway)

However, this can be a very time consuming, tedious process especially if you have to make a lot of them. There is also a LOT chance for some errors (misprints, miscuts, lamination bubbles, ect) that will leave you with B-grade or otherwise not-so-perfect or damaged stickers. (Little note, if you have page mess up in printing and can't be fed into the cricut machine, you can still laminate it and cut it out by hand too.)

I have to do a lot of sticker cutting by hand, so if you don't have a cricut don't stress too much about it. I have an entire drawer filled to the top of miscuts/misprints. I keep them because I don't want to be wasteful, so maybe one day they'll find another home. Sucks for my hand though.

But yeah! This is how I make my stickers at home! Hope this is helpful to anyone curious

[lxzy-bxby]

Two Peas in a Pod

Husband!Leon × Pregnant!Reader

Tags: Explicit language+Mentions of smut ♡ Implied age gap ♡ Fluffish comedy ♡ No proofreading ♡ No use of Y/N ♡ By non-native English speaker

~ ♡ ~

You feel like crawling out of your skin.

AC feels like too much yet at the same time the living room is still stuffy as fuck. You’re so hungry, you’d kill for spicy Doritos but as soon as you think about those you feel wave of nausea knurling up your throat. Leon’s worn-out shirt sits amazing on your skin, all cotton and his cologne until his perfume suddenly makes you want to throw up.

Surviving through third trimester. Pregnancy is a blessing. That’s what they say, at least.

That’s all jokes, of course. You still can’t believe you actually have Leon’s kid developing inside of you. Someone you two made out of love, a whole ass human. That you’ll have to pop out of your vagina. Crazy.

You try not to think about childbirth, as if it will cancel the fact you’ll have to go through it. That’s gonna be later, though. Now you’re curled up against Leon, your bump against his side, his fingertips stroking the curve of your waist and you are the happiest you have ever been.

Your eyes flicker back to TV and the show playing actually catches your interest. Speaking honestly, you rarely enjoyed something Leon picked out. It always some action type of movie and the whole watching session is followed by him laughing at the unrealistic way movie director pictures the battlefield. But his laugh is always worth it, so if he wants to rewatch ‘Mission: Impossible’ for third time a month, you won’t object. After all, he does watch Desperate Housewives with you. Even though anytime he joins you on the couch, TV screen ends up forgotten and you find yourself bouncing on his cock so desperately, those housewives can only imagine.

But tonight’s different story. Your due date is in two weeks, and Leon is scared of breathing too loud next to you, let alone trying funny business. You don’t find yourself sexually willing as well, having belly the size of watermelon. You can’t even guess how come Leon’s hands still all over you even though your body is a canva of stretchmarks and swolleness. But by the way his hands grope your full tits every night, just touching lightly and tenderly afraid to hurt you as he whispers to your ear how bad he wishes he could make love to you, you start to think he’s into this whole pregnancy body thing. At least because it was a rare time he used the phrase ‘making love’ before—he preferred to say ‘fucking’.

Indeed, pregnancy did change your body—as much as it did change Leon’s soul. Like yeah, of course you’ve always been his soft spot. But now you’re his softest spot.

Maybe that’s because it’s a first child for both you and him. He’s thirty-eight, yet he never even held a newborn. You’re a bit younger and it’s your first pregnancy, so of course you barely even realize the fuck is going on. Being first-time parents together is quite an experience. There’s none else in the world you’d like to share the experience with.

With your eyes still glued to the screen, you reach out to grab a cup of ginger tea Leon carefully infused for you this morning. Your forearm brushes against your big belly—any movement feels like making a clown out of yourself with being this far along. Leon’s eyes notice the way you fuss and he gently squeezes your waist.

”Lemme do it. You’re gonna pop if you do as much as raise your arm,” He chuckles in amusement, reaching over to get you your tea. You take it from him, muttering out a soft ‘thanks’.

Leon’s palm slides towards your belly, rubbing it lovingly. You know what’s coming next, so you open your mouth first.

“No, she’s not kicking now, it’s been just five minutes. And I’m feeling alright. Well… as alright as it is possible to feel when you’re about to burst in some weeks.” You declare, your hand covering his on top of your protruding abdomen. “But she’s gonna be there soon. I honestly can’t wait. So much things I wanna do…”

You start to rant about how bad you want to sleep on your tummy once again and how many iced coffees you’d devour. Leon laughs softly, gazing at you affectionately, “Sure, baby. Anything you’ll want you’ll get. You deserved it. Now all there’s left is to just poop out our daughter and call it a day.”

You scoff immediately, “No labour mentioning.”

”Right, right.” Leon raises his arms in surrender. “No thinkin’ about it. At all.”

You hum, satisfied and you two focus back on TV. Leon’s hand back on your baby bump, his lips pressing occasional smooches against your temple. You relax completely, feeling utterly content.

Doesn’t last long, though.

Another fifteen minutes—and you abruptly feel cramps. Literal cramps. First day of period kind of cramps.

…Can you start your period while pregnant? You think to google it, but before you can even try and remember where the hell your phone is, it just… goes away.

Luckily, Leon remains blissfully unaware, still glued to the TV. Your hand rests on your stomach as force of habit after nine months of pregnancy—and you gasp. Your belly feels stiff. You have zero idea what does that mean. Labor? Miscarriage? Where’s even your baby?

Your hands shake wildly in fear. That’s when Leon finally notices, his brows furrowing immediately as he caresses your shoulder and takes your cup of tea from your trembling hands.

“Baby? What’s wrong? Are you hurt anywhere?” He coos, trying to read your eyes.

While they already go misty.

“I don’t know,” You whine. “Baby feels… weird.”

Leon’s frown deepends, “What do you mean ‘weird’?” He then palms your belly and his own eyes widen. “It’s… firm, huh? Maybe that’s her… back? Like, spine? Wait… Her head’s supposed to be downwards, not upwards, right? Can you feel her head, baby? Does she… God, how do we know if does she even have a head?”

You whimper, “She does! Didn’t you see it on scans? Why’d you even bring up her head? Whatever, I have no idea what’s going on!”

Leon winces at your outburst, stroking your back reassuringly.

”Sorry. Don’t… don’t be nervous, please. No good for the baby.”

”I’m not nervous!” You raise your voice, but before you can express your fury again, you feel another cramp. It goes away as quickly as the one before, but you’re on edge nonetheless.

You slump against the couch… And feel wet, fresh patch of liquid underneath.

“Oh my God!” You practically shout. “Leon! Water! Water broke!”

Leon barely holds back from squeaking himself, his eyes landing on damp spot as well. Then he finally croaks out, “You sure you didn’t… I dunno, piss yourself?”

You do not stand on ceremony and smack his chest, “Are you stupid?! Go get the bag and call Dr. Ambers!”

Leon blinks a few times before he jumps onto his feet and rushes upstairs to collect your duffet bag, the one you methodically packed when you was barely even showing.

While he’s out and about, you whine to yourself. Labour? Tonight? Maybe there’s way to stop it? Need to ask your ob-gyn when Leon phones her.

Leon is quick and mostly calm, perks of being an agent, but the shock in his eyes is still visible. He quickly throws your bag into the car, then coming back to help you to stand up. You both don’t even change. Nor lock the fucking door to your new fucking house.

Leon supports you as he guides you to car, meanwhile you feel weird. Are contractions really that… um, dull? You settle in the backseat, massaging your belly absentmindedly. Leon already turns the ignition on, looking at you through the mirror.

“Hold on, honey. Just a bit. Will you… will you be able to keep her inside for a li’l more?” He rasps, maneuvering car from your front-yard.

You nod in confusion, not feeling any kind of pain at all anymore. Should you… should you tell him about that? But as you feel your still stiff belly, fear comes back again.

Leon in the driver’s seat, meanwhile, was going crazy. He had read the articles, all those parental books, he honestly was preparing intently… But now all his thoughts were filled with panic. Primal, pure panic.

You make your way to the hospital so fast you completely forgot to warn your midwife on the phone that you’re arriving. You discard the thought, Leon already at your side of the door, helping you outside and wanting to carry you, but you walk on your own, surprisingly steady.

Leon blinks stupidly once again, but doesn’t mention. He has never seen a birthing woman before, after all.

Minute later you two are by the reception table.

”My wife’s in labour,” Leon explains in a rush, buzzing with anxiety. “Our obstetrician’s Rosalie Ambers."

Receptionist lady throws a confused glance at you, but clarifies nonetheless, “Surname?”

”Kennedy,” Leon replies before you even register the question. “We’re expecting a girl, due date is 22nd, our medchart is—”

”It’s okay,” The receptionist cuts him off gently, “Second floor, room 218. You can use the elevator. Check in with your ob-gyn first, please.” She squeezes out a knowing (huh?..) smile as she gestures towards elevators.

You two rush in the direction, your hospital bag hoisted over Leon’s broad shoulder and his arms never leaving your body, holding you close and patting your tummy.

Elevator comes to its stop at the destined floor. You and Leon patter to your doctor’s office, him forgetting to knock as he pushes the door open and ushers you inside.

“Doc, we’re in labour,” He speaks in panicked voice, dropping your bag by the entrance and helping you to seat on the settee. “How long will it take? I got work tomorrow and I’m unable to call in, y’know, uh, really important job… Is it possible to speed it up? I mean only if it’s going to be easier for her, of course… Can we get her painkillers? And can I be in operating with her? I brought a bathing robe, thought that will do, also her… Baby, we forgot your ID! Do we need an ID to have a child? I can drive back home, but if—”

”Mr. Kennedy,” Your ob-gyn stops him with all her professionalism, yet there’s a hint of laughter in her voice. “I have to talk to your wife, first things first. Mrs. Kennedy, aren’t we due in three weeks?” She turns to you, arching her eyebrow.

You gulp, “Yeah, but… I had contractions… really weird contractions, and my baby… She went rigid!”

To your surprise, your midwife barely even changes her expression.

”How often you felt your contractions?” She palpates your stomach.

”I… I don’t know, I had to count?” You mewl. “Like… inconsistent… Not painful but… I don’t know, like cramps? I thought I got my period, but I can’t get it, right?”

”…Yeah, you’ll have to count.” Doctor finally chuckles lightly, stepping away from you. “In three weeks, when you’ll be in labour.”

”…Huh?” You bat your eyes in oblivion.

She smiles gently once again, “You’re not in labour tonight, Mrs. Kennedy. And it’s not your menstruation either. That’s false labor. We call it Braxton Hicks. In layman terms, your uterus is preparing for the real action. Your baby is okay, but we can run an uzi if you’re worried nonetheless.”

You turn to look at Leon, his face expression matching yours.

”But… my water broke…” You mutter, looking in between your things for confirmation. You eye the pant leg of your bloomers…

You look up at Leon, your cheeks flushing and you wish you could just get sucked into the ground. His eyes meet yours as he notices the blot too.

…Where tea stain starts to dry already.

And Leon lets out a loud lough.

Your lips twitch, feeling both amusement and embarrassment. But it doesn’t last long, especially after you notice your gynecologist smiling as well—and a genuine chuckle escapes your lips.

So fucking awkward.

But when it’s with Leon, it’s always no big deal.

And there’s no other human being in the whole entire world you’d rather to be loony scaremonger together with.

Because if you’re being a half-wit soon-to-be mother, he’s being a half-wit soon-to-be father.

~ ♡ ~

[makereadgrow]

The Why of Sewing 3: Fabric Anatomy (Fiber Content)

This post is in a series I am starting that is going to talk about concepts in sewing and fiber arts and try and explain some of the whys behind the hows.

The beginner sewist is often (correctly) advised at the beginning of their journey to start with cotton fabric, sometimes specifically woven cotton, but not always. Nevermind that cotton fabric can vary from a tshirt to denim and canvas.

We have learned the difference between a knit and a woven fabric in my previous posts (check the tag #the why of sewing which should bring up the whole series). Let's talk fiber content.

Like fabric structure I basically break fiber down into two groups: natural fibers and synthetic fibers. Below I am going to talk about the fibers you are most likely to encounter as you shop as a home sewist. It is NOT a complete list of fibers, nor could I list the entirety of fabric types made with each fiber.

Natural fibers: these are fibers that come from plants and animals and require minimal processing to be made into fabric.

Wool: This comes from sheep, which are sheared 1-2 times a year. The animal is not hurt in the process and even sheep not raised for fiber production must be sheared for their health. Wool is warm, but breathable. It can be easy to work with in some ways, but it does shrink when washed and so many modern sewists avoid wool. Some folks have sensitivities to wool as well. Wool is most commonly used in suitings and knits.

Image: Shorn sheep in a verdant field (Source: By Roger Kidd, CC BY-SA 2.0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=13035358)

Silk: Silk is made from the cocoons of silkworms, and generally harvested prior to the hatching of silkworm larvae. Silk is expensive to produce and considered a luxury good. Silk is shiny and lightweight, it can be surprisingly warm. Silk can loose its sheen in the wash and because the fiber is so delicate it can be difficult to sew. There is a lot of misinformation on the production of both silk and wool online. Worm Spit has been educating fiber artists about the process of making silk since 2002.

Image: a vintage style poster showing various stages of the silkworm moth (By Bibliographisches Institut, in Leipzig - Meyers Konversations-Lexikon, 4th Auflage, Band 14, Seite 826a (4th ed., Vol. 14, p.826a), Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=2317808)

Cotton: Cotton comes from the cotton plant, there are several varieties commonly grown and it is the most common natural fiber used in textile production. The cotton fiber comes from the seed head of the plant. Cotton can be made into light breathable fabrics and warm cosy fabrics. The list of fabrics made from cotton might actually be endless but here are a few you might encounter: jersey knits, denim, quilting cotton, gauze, lawn, voile, sweatshirting, twills, poplin, oxford cloth, canvas...

Image: the cotton boll, or seed pod (source: Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=689304)

Linen: Linen comes from the flax plant. The fiber comes from the long stem of the flax plant and can be difficult to break down into a usable state. It is also difficult for modern spinning equipment to make into threads, which is why linen tends to be quite expensive in comparison to cotton. Linen is cool to the touch and very strong. It also wrinkles very easily. Coarsely woven linen can be uncomfortable for some to wear. Linen tends to be made into simple plain woven fabric, occasionally knit fabrics, and can vary in weight from handkerchief linen (very fine, almost transparent) to canvas. I recently reblogged THIS POST which had some incredible links regarding linen production.

Image: linen cloth recovered from Qumran Cave 1 near the Dead Sea (Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=248420)

Synthetic fabrics: these are fibers that have been manufactured through industrial processes.

Polyester/Acrylic/Nylon: These fabrics are plastic. They are made from different types of plastic, but ultimately a liquid petrolum product is extruded into a long filiment and made into cloth. They can be made into woven or knit fabric. The way they are made can have many different properties. Generally polyester is what you find in the home sewing world. Polyester is not breathable and because it is oil based it tends to hold on to smells. It melts when it is too hot and therefore can only be ironed carefully. Polyester also tends to be very strong and can help make very sturdy fabrics. Because polyester is very inexpensive to produce it is frequently combined with other fibers to reduce production cost.

A diagram of "dry spinning" polyester fibers (source: https://encyclopedia.che.engin.umich.edu/fiber-spinning/)

Spandex/Lycra/Elastine: this is the stretchy stuff! Generally found in combination with other materials this is what makes fabric go beyond the mechanical stretch that is produced by the fabric structure. In small amounts mixed with cotton it makes a fantastic tshirt jersey, 100% spandex is great for swim and dancewear. As we discussed in the knit article I posted previously adding stretch to sewing does make it more complicated to work with, but used wisely spandex is your friend. Best not pressed excessively as the fiber has a protein structure that breaks down when it is hot. Also if you have a garment or fabric with a lot of spandex content you might want to consider avoiding the dryer.

Rayon/Viscose/Bamboo/Lyocell/Cupro/Tencel: There are SO MANY names for cellulose fabrics. These are sometimes categorized as semi-synthetic fibers, or even put in with natural fibers. They are all the same thing deep down. Cellulose (generally sourced from trees and plants) is chemically broken down into its most essential parts and then extruded into a filiment. These fibers were originally developed as a silk substitute. Rayons are fine, breathable, and have a drape that clings to the body. They shrink in the wash and can continue to shrink through several washes. They also can be fragile when wet. Rayons are made into both woven fabrics and knits and they tend to be thin and fine fabrics. Rayon fabrics, especially those labeled as bamboo are frequently greenwashed as environmentally friendly, because they are sourced from a renewable resource, but the process of producing cellulose fibers is highly polluting and uses significant amounts of water.

While there are outliers, most textiles you will encounter while shopping for fabric will be made of the above fibers. A deeper dive into these would be fun, but I find at least 3 potential rabbit holes I could go down every single post I make here.

[flippinpancakes64]

Could you do the cullens with a mate who is a painter?

The Cullens with a Painter! Reader

I haven’t painted in YEARS omg, I moved to using my iPad a couple of years ago but I still remember the basics so here we go

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He’s also an artistic person

So he understands what drives you to create

His favorite thing to do is to play the piano while you paint

It just makes him feel so warm inside

He loves watching you paint as well

It’s so fascinating to watch what you see in your mind and then as you translate it onto the canvas

And he loves your artwork

He hangs it up all over the walls in his room

Genuinely thinks you should enter in a contest

Alice:

She loves your artwork so much

It’s so fascinating to her how you can just conjure up something so amazing

She also loves to buy you new paints and canvases

Every time she’s out buying new clothes or something she sees a new paint and she’s like “ooh that color’s pretty”

Keeps every single thing you make for her

Loves watching you work

She doesn’t care if she’s being creepy

She just loves you and wants to hang out

Jasper:

He’s fascinated and enamored by your emotional state when you work

He loves when you paint faces because your mind flickers to whatever emotion you’re trying to convey on the paper

It’s a very interactive experience for him

He almost likes tuning in to your mind more than your actual artwork

But he does obviously love your paintings

He does whatever you want him to

You need a life model? Well it’s a good thing he can stay still for hours

Want more paint? He already has his car keys in his hand

Rosalie:

She used to be really into painting and drawing

But she always thought she was bad at it so she just stopped

So when you come around she falls in love with it again

She wants you to teach her everything

She’s always hard on herself

She thinks her stuff is never as good as yours

But she loves painting with you

She can almost overlook her own hatred for her artwork

And yes she hangs up everything that you make in her garage

Emmett:

I don’t think he’s a very artsy person

Unless you want to call the fact that he can gut and skin a bear in less than 30 seconds an art form

But he can appreciate good art

So when he sees some of your paintings for the first time he is blown away

“You made these? Like actually? That’s so fucking sick”

Proudly displays anything you give him

You doodled on a paper during school and he stuck it in the front pocket of his binder

And he tells everyone who asks exactly where it came from

Esme:

She’s a painter

I don’t make the rules I just follow them

All of the artwork currently hanging up in the Cullen house is her work

And yes she’s very proud of the grad cap piece

So she is so excited when she finds out you also love to paint

Two peas in a pod

Painting dates are a must

And she is more than happy to take down some of her stuff to make room for yours

You don’t even need to ask

Carlisle:

I feel like he’s a jack of all trades

He’s been around long enough I sure hope he knows how to do everything at least a little bit

But he’s nowhere near as good as you

He’s so proud that his SO is such a talented artist

He convinces the clinic to hang up a couple of your pieces in the boring exam rooms

People compliment them all the time and he tells them exactly who made them

Don’t ever worry about buying art supplies ever again btw

Vampire! Bella:

I don’t remember if she ever drew during the books or movies, but she just screams art kid to me

She had a phase in middle school, thought she sucked so she stopped

So she’s astonished when she sees what you make

“I couldn’t make that even if Van Gogh himself taught me”

She loves watching you work

It’s so calming to her

If she could sleep, she would fall asleep watching you

[cipherstarling]

Nightmare Realm! Bill Cipher X Reader Headcanons

I don't see a lot of reader-insert writing for what Bill was like before the events of gravity falls. I think he'd be wandering the Nightmare realm for a long while, trying to understand how it works.

You remember the day you met Bill. You two are peas in a pod, joined at the hip since then, thick as thieves- sometimes literally! It's rough out here, in the Nightmare Realm.

It was a slow development, eons of keeping each other company and one day, his attitude towards you changed. It happens after you express a desire to leave the realm, to find broader skies and diverse dimensions. He's right there with you, already thinking of a ticket out of here!

You sometimes catch the way his eyes widen with something close to love, yet closer to obsession when he sees you fight your way out of a sticky situation. It was an intensity that would make the devil blush.

He'll give ya anything you want. A puppy? Sure! He'll make it rain puppies. They'll have an extra set of eyes or limbs, but that's close enough right?

Flowers? He actually paid attention this time and MADE you ones you like- plucked straight from the mindscape of the world's best florists. They're just as cute, fragile, and breakable as you! So what if they screamed and sprouted eyes?

Bill would never admit that he grows softer by the day with how you look at him, marvel at his powers and being with those wide, sparkling eyes of yours.

When you aren't looking, Bill makes sure to check on those flowers. With a snap of his fingers, he'd force life into them, making sure they never wilt.

In a world full of opportunistic and truly desperate dregs of what used to be people, he made sure to keep your light alive. The nightmare realm feared Bill, he'd keep you were safe.

He makes a ukulele from the hair of whoever wronged you- stringed intricately to it WHILE their streaming head is still attached to the instrument! It makes for interesting back-up vocals. He'd sing you a happy, whimsical little serenade he heard on Earth once. 

He's make sure to zip up the mouths of anyone who talked badly of you- literally! Sometimes you come across those random people around the nightmare realm, still unable to run their mouths.

He stopped a comet for you, just so you can cross the asteroid belt towards your favorite interdimexican joint. 

And if the line was long, he'd get rid of whoever's ahead of you with a snap- they'd turn into silly string or balloons. 

Of course, he'd turn them back to normal at your behest. He listens to you! Sometimes.

Bill is much more sappy than you give him credit for. He will deny it till his dying breath. It just looks… different than what mortals would call romance.

He painted the black canvas of the void with stars, comets, suns and moons for your amusement. He loves making them dance and spell out your name. Really extra, but Bill's all for big displays of affection!

He’ll poke fun at how dumb and easily amused you are, but if you see past his scathing banter, you'll see how his eye softens and gazes at you with an other-worldly fondness. Closer to obsession, really- but tom-ay-to, to-mah-to.

He'll never admit it, but he absolutely melts when you call him yours. Some other nicknames that would make him feel like putty would be Sweetheart, honey, light of my never-ending-all-consuming-void.

But of course, he won't say no if you started calling him by his REAL name. The one that would scramble your mind, melt your ears off your face, and vaporize you into nothing but atomic dust.

Just kidding. He won't tell you what it is. Depending on whether or not you're mortal, he'd never risk your well-being like that.

Much.

He will always praise you. For your ups and downs, for your wrongs and rights. He's right there with you, no matter what.

But, he'll get an extra kick out of seeing displays of power from you. Y'know, putting people in their place, defending him from opportunistic bounty hunters. Maybe burning a town or two in his honor, if you lack morals like that! That is H-O-T!

He loves you and his admiration burns. For Bill, love is something close to giving up your entire existence towards each other- in all forms, for all of time.

He will share pieces of himself with you, but give him an inch and he'll take a mile.

He's afraid of vulnerability. Love is a weakness, he's burned himself so many times with mortals and cosmic beings alike.

So, he'll expect you to give yourself fully to him... But he'll be hesitant to do the same. 

You and him against the world, forever and in death.

There are nights where he'll warp the nightmare realm into your own personal playground. 

He'll make music play out of nowhere, cheerful little tunes he heard in the mindscape of Earth's greatest artists. With a twinkle of his eye, he'll slip his hands over yours and guide you through steps. He teaches you new dances you've never seen before.

You'll dance the night away as he a chorus of screams and wearing flames surrounded you. Your very own, blue and warm spotlight shines over your perfect features. Bill can't possibly take his eyes off you! Whether or not your afraid or elated at the chaos he brewed, he absolutely ADORES you!

Love is acceptance and submission. No matter what, no matter the cost. So he won't understand why you disapprove of certain things he's done. He understands morality- but that's a meat-bag concept! You two are beyond that!

It would shock him to find you won't go with his Weirdmageddon idea.

His pranks turn harmful, well, even for you. Turning coffee to decaf was his worst idea before, but that quickly turned into making arsenic taste like blue raspberry so everyone in Gravity Falls wouldn't be able to tell the difference between that and Kewl-Aid.

Over time, his whimsical, funny little ideas turn into plans. Things that made you laugh out of the sheer absurdity of his ideas, becomes a twisted reality.

He expected you to be with him for all of eternity, no matter what.

So why? Why were you pulling away?

He just doesn't understand. Deep down, he does. But he refuses to acknowledge that.

The sweet gestures and love bombing come back tenfold. Until it becomes unbearable.

He nearly burns you in his attempt to show you a sun so bright and so powerful. He thought you'd love terrifying displays of power as much as he does. 

At some point, if he thinks you're pulling away, he'll try to cut you a deal.

He knows you from the inside out. He knows what makes you tick. What you need and want.

If you refuse him time and time again, he gets a little upset. But deep down, he likes the chase. He admires individuality, it is chaos and creative balanced- it makes you YOU. Not just some sad sack he had control over, in a world full of puppets.

Deep down, he doesn't want to take that individuality away from you by shackling you to his whims.

But Gods don't love the way mortal men do.

They consume and devour. Overpower everything until nothing is left and they can rebuild it all in their image. They do what they do best, cast dominion over everything they see and rule.

He whisks you away to the edge of the Nightmare realm, near a void no one comes back from. 

A pair of his slender black arms wrap around your waist tightly, almost suffocatingly. Another pair of them sprouts to lovingly cradle your neck and turn your gaze towards him. 

He holds you over the edge of this void, vast and endless. You drown in the twisted obsession building in his eye. He takes in your terrified, confused expression, and whispers promises of a future with him. Your form shakes, your feet swinging desperately for purchase.

"It's you and me against the world, I will never let you go."

All of this fear and hurt, just to prove his point. That you need him, and he needs you. If there was one thing Bill had been good at his entire existence, it was sowing fear deep into the minds of everyone he met.

It's up to you, whether or not you'll give in to that fear.

God, proof-reading this just makes me realize how in deep I am. Did you see the little secret notes between the lines? <3 Thanks for reading!

[evanescewriting]

"i can see all the colors"

above me they are shining and finally, I can see all the colors that surround me.

CONTENT: Vague descriptions of injury, descriptions of character death, potentially disturbing sensory (rotting corpse smell mentioned, etc.) comforting character death (for Curly), regret (for Anya’s situation), j***y is not named (🖕) SYNOPSIS: Captain Curly gets a glimpse of the universe outside the foamed up walls of the drifting Tulpar. AUTHOR'S NOTE: mouthwashing folks how are we feeling about that ending

In the end,

no one came.

No one came to free him from the cryopod. No one came to free the bodies scattered around the ship - no one to bring them home. Or for that one, dead, rotting pixel he had no choice but to now see - no one to throw him out into the endless universe like trash.

It was just him.

The bodies.

The tulpar.

And the cryopod he wasn’t meant for.

God, if one could hear him this far from Earth, he would give anything, anything, to be a captain worthy of that honor. Anything to go back in time, pick up the pieces of his sense he let fall to his feet, shattering and cutting him and all that once stood around and with him. And how they bled. How they bled so much that he thought, perhaps, the crimson beneath his feet was a red carpet that marked his glory. His leadership.

Perhaps this was punishment.

To want to give everything to go back as you freeze in a pod, slowly, slowly dying with no one to come save you.

A captain always goes down with his ship.

He wishes he could close his eyes - burning from dryness, and the cold. Perhaps this was punishment too. For not seeing. Now, all he could do was see. He felt as if he had been stripped away of everything. Gone were the skin and limbs. Leaving only behind the most vulnerable, most human mechanisms in his body. To see. To hear. To create sounds of pain, sadness, and desperation. He was a canvas of red - a tiny splotch of blue amongst the various crimson shades. Scaled small on the canvas, but within it so much knowledge. So many things that had finally been seen.

Time stretches by so slowly.

It rakes its nails across him and his ship. Chipping away at resolve and cleaning the remnants of sanity from his mind.

And still,

no one comes.

His ship is failing. His body is failing. What was it, that saying he had thought of not long ago as he considered his punishment? Ah- a captain always goes down with his ship. Well, Captain Curly was going down with his ship.

And his crew.

They are rotting. He is rotting.

And how long had it been, counting his time through the days, hours, and seconds that had gone by since he was.. not this. He felt that he had become something more. Something different. But truly - he was still himself, wasn’t he? The crash had changed him, of course, but isn’t that similar to the process of a sudden metamorphosis? It felt more burden than butterfly - but what if there were still the remnants of the caterpillar in him? Would it be somehow possible to call upon them? To use the skills from the past and translate them to something he could do now?

Yes - yes he thinks perhaps he could. He could call upon them. Use the strength of this form to deliver the most powerful something of all. Do something so very caterpillar (human) while being so butterfly (in his view, not human).

In this freezing, empty chrysalis, he reverts back to his roots, opening his jaw with pain - but that was a familiar thing already - and wheezing out something that only reverberates within the chamber. Echoing down the long hallway of his punishment, lost on the ears of the dead.

“S-S - orry.”

And then no one came.

And then he could not close his eyes.

And then, just before the end, he realized he was neither caterpillar, nor butterfly, nor human, nor anything more or less than that - but maybe, just maybe - he was forgiven.

And then he went down with his ship.

The metal walls and layers of the Tulpar had unraveled itself. All that remained was the exoskeleton of a ship - bones and ribs and skull - drifting through space. One, singular pod still connected to it. Two long dead bodies bound in their infinite voyage.

But maybe that wasn’t true.

Because he feels himself, somehow, come out from the pod - standing just on the edge of the peeling metal. Feet planted impossibly confidently with the absence of gravity.

Beyond death - Captain Curly can still see.

There are so many colors.

Purple, blue, orange, red - a cornucopia of color beyond imagination. Hues and shades the human mind could not even digest. He can see them all before him.

“I think my favorite might be the blues.” There is a voice behind him - sounding different when it lacks timidness.

“Guess mine!” Cheery, useless ray of sunshine that beams so far away from the sun.

“Green.” Straight to the point. But Curly knows that underneath the tone is a fondness for the two.

He can feel them behind him. Eyes turned to the mass of color above.

“Close! It’s pink, Swansea. Me and Anya’s colors make purple.” Daisuke says, and he just knows that maybe he is putting his hands on his hips in a ‘see how greatly that works out?’ motion.

For a moment, silence passes. Comfortable. Peaceful.

“What about you, Captain? What’s your favorite?”

And then he turns - and they are before them.

The crew. The three he should have saved. The three he could not save. The three he failed.

Whatever form he takes now - they stare at him with indifference. Passive curiosity on the simplicity of his favorite enveloped in the beautiful mass, far away from life.

He feels, somewhere within, the feeling of a held in cry or scream that only comes out as a freeing-

“Maybe the yellow. But the pink is nice - so is the blue.”

“Yellow is the best choice.” Swansea voices his agreement as he looks back above him.

“Yeah. Yellow is a good choice, Captain.” And of course, Daisuke’s eyes follow his mentors, even here. Even now.

“Blue is the best choice, though.” Anya says as she joins their gazes lifting back up.

He wants to ask them: was this always just right outside those walls? All these colors he could never see? All these ideas and concepts? All that pain and suffering?

But he knows that they’ll tell him yes, it was. And only now can you see it, Captain.

Only now can you see all the freedom, the relief, the joy, the stars and their colors.

And tell us - tell us when you come to that conclusion, too.

Tell us if you think it is beautiful.

[shona22]

Happy WIP Mondays! We are at 7k words for the first chapter so far and I'm trying not to put beyond 9. Hopefully. Positively. Un-betaed at the moment

“Okay, I'm sorry. I'm sorry.” Stiles groaned out from the arched entryway, just in front of the kitchen. He's rocking on the heels of his washed canvas shoes, hands clasped behind. There's an exaggerated frown on his face. He appears genuinely apologetic, just, not as much as he's voicing it out to be. “I know, you were busy and — yeah, you've been trying too, listening to us, and let me just say I thought you were replaced by some pod person because what the hell, Derek, when did you start taking my advice instead of taking–”

“Stiles.” Derek sighed with all his might. After the pack had dispersed, Stiles had lingered. He found his calling near the wall shelf, not quite looking at the books Derek had unearthed from the vault, just…letting his unfocused gaze linger on the cracked spines of the hardbound. The sensation of Stiles’s silence felt like prickling needles, like dehydration at a parched desert. Derek's been a bit miffed, mostly cautious, and waited patiently for the boy to leave him the fuck alone. But when has Derek's life gone according to the plan?

“Right.” Stiles sighed, pressing his palms into his eye sockets. “I'm apologizing.You should accept it.”

Derek almost snorts out the warm beer he had been nursing. He takes a moment, letting his eyes linger, going top to bottom and again the top of the boy’s head. Stiles, in all his pale-skinned, jittery glory, is simply infuriating. “You're demanding I accept your apology?”

“I'm making a suggestion.” He pops the words out with a petulant curling of his full lips, an insistent sinful pout of pink that's awfully tempting. But the expression stays there only for a moment before Stiles lets himself slump forward, reaching the kitchen counter that separates them. “Can I have that?” He say, pointing towards the beer can with a newfound audacity sparkling behind his brown eyes.

“No.” Derek said firmly, pulling himself and the can deliberately out of Stiles’s reach.

He had absolutely refused to supply alcoholic beverages to the pack – not because he's a law abiding citizen that's afraid of the Sheriff – but because he simply didn't carry enough wolfsbane infused alcohols to supply them so freely. Maybe, one day, he will teach IsaacIssac how to brew his own.

And giving Stiles a beer potent enough to affect a werewolf? Fat chance.

“You're underage.” Derek added bluntly.

Stiles pulled such an ugly expression that all Derek wants to do is reach between the space and slap it away. It's not new, the aggression he had felt towards the human boy— and worse, is that he's acted on it before. Stiles is infuriating, a poster child of adhd that could power a small town, and only could be enjoyed in small doses. And enjoyed is an overstatement — although his wolf heaves like a sickly Victorian child whenever he gets hit with the telltale scent of his mate. So the aggression? It's nothing new. It's a safer way to touch, better way to warn.

“I'm probably going to get killed anytime next week,” Stiles bemoaned with faux graveness. “And the only thing you'll remember is that you refused to give me a beer as our last conversation.”

“You're not going to die next week.” Derek rolled his eyes, turning his back to Stiles. The autumn sun was setting at a leisurely pace, still peaking over the horizon and painting the loft a dastardly shade of orange. He wants to pull the curtains in the main hall, but then again, he doesn't want to switch on the fluorescent lights indoors just yet. He needs to cook dinner. The sink is filled with dishes. There's laundry he needs to take by Mrs. Witherspoon’s laundromat down the streets. There's—

“Uh, did you not hear anything I said?” Stiles yelled, incredulous, and it cuts through Derek's train of thought. “The thing is going off killing virgins now, and guess what I'm? I'll give you two chances.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

“Stiles.”

“Yes, I'm, indeed Stiles. How did you even guess, Derek? Now, for your second chance. What am I?”

“A general pain in the ass.”

“Hah.” Stiles deadpans, curling his fingers to rest his face on his palm as he leaned forward, back arched. “A virgin. I'm going to die a virgin.”

“You're not going to die a virgin, Stiles.” Derek exhaled loudly, feeling the veins on his forehead throb.

He switches the faucet then, letting the water cascade over the dirty dishes and the lull in the conversation. The yellow scrubbers Ericas got him were a tight fit, he wonders if she got it from the kid's section because no wash gloves should have a size limit. It's not as if Derek's awfully big, he's bigger than most— a definite sore thumb in the clandestine town of Beacon Hills. Back in New York, he was dwarfed by men the size of wall pillars, but back then he was younger and also a beta. Although, if memories serve right, then Hales were always a peculiar bunch. People had always given them a wide berth, a fleetingly curious glance. Even the women were taller and broader. If anything, he remembered the then Sheriff being thoroughly loomed over by Talia Hale.

This all to say that when Stiles slides up bedside him, all meek like a church mouse and smelling divinely of lust and want, Derek could only concentrate on the fact that he looked all soft and small, easy to engulf if Derek were to hold him close. He's flushed, red cheeked and bitten lips. The pretty nose, the moles. His rigid, swimmer shoulders that tapered into a tiny waist. He's too skinny, but there's a give to his belly where the graphic shirt sticks tauntly. Almost like the baby fat had refused to melt down. “What do you mean by that?”

What? Derek blinks, then repeats it out loud. “What?”

“You said…” Stiles’s voice is unsteady, he plays with a lock of hair around the nape of his long neck. “I don't have to die a virgin.”

“...I did.”

“So, you're– are you–” He takes in a large gulp of breath, then looks straight up, right into Derek, right at his soul, where it's dark and sick. “You're offering? To take my virginity?”

The sound of water hitting the melamine plates was deafening.

[jordanching-blog]

Living lighter

I've been consciously trying to figure out ways to leave less of an imprint on the earth... here are a few things that I've implemented:

Reducing plastic use:

Water delivery in glass jars (spring water AND no plastic!)

Laundry pods instead of plastic containers

Refillable deodorant

Reusable jars for when I go to the herb store

I buy compostable garbage bags and reuse the produce ones for daily trash (would like to eliminate those though)

Reducing paper waste:

Using towels instead of paper towels and napkins

Using canvas totes when grocery shopping

Shopping local:

I stopped shopping at huge corporate owned grocery stores like Whole Foods and shop at my local neighborhood places

Curbed my Amazon addiction (still definitely use it, but try my best to reduce as much as possible)

Diet:

Eating mostly plant based (but some wings and fish here and there)

Things that weren't so great that were reusable:

Menstruation cup (super messy and not for me)

Q-tips (I bought this off a kickstarter and didn't feel like it was cleaning anything)

If I owned my own place, things I'd implement:

Bidet (use way less toilet paper and everything is so much cleaner)

Solar panels

Ways to reuse gray water

Compost (you'd think LA apartments would have this but nope)

It might not seem like much listed out, but it does make me feel better that I'm actively trying to reduce my imprint. If everyone did something small, it'd add up to something big! A book that I just finished, Braiding Sweet Grass, really made me think about our relationship with the Earth and how we can make it more reciprocal.

I'm always looking for more ways to improve, so if anyone has any suggestions, would love to learn!

[boxturret]

The Mystery of the Exploding Truck

Atlantis: The Lost Empire is one of my favourite movies, in fact its the one gisnep 2d animated movie I like. This is a little rambling article about the convoy of vehicles that the middle of the movie focuses on.

The movie features a ton of really interesting vehicles, from the massive Ulysses submarine to the more conventional trucks, all brought to life by some really stunning 3d animation. If you've looked in to behind the scenes materials and toys there's actually quite a few that were designed but never used. (Well, actually most if not all of them are in the movie, you just have to look closely, but that's another topic entirely)

Recently, I was watching the movie closely and was quite impressed how consistent the convoy is throughout the movie. After the Ulysses submarine is destroyed only one evac pod survived (conveniently the one with the main characters in it) and it contained a small fraction of the number of vehicles for the expedition.

This little convoy is what makes the final trek to Atlantis. Its made up of 8 vehicles:

1-The Command Car

2-The Drill

3-The large tanker truck that actually houses the escape balloon

4-Cookie's wagon

5-The Oiler, the truck containing fuel

6-The truck hiding the plane launcher catapult

7a and 7b-two generic covered trucks

Its quite consistent about this. There's some scenes where you can't easily see ALL of the vehicles, but overall they're quite good at keeping it straight.

Where things get a bit confused is the scene where the fireflies attack.

There's a truck they explodes behind Milo, it seems to be one of the covered trucks, you can even make out the emblem on the side of the canvas. The truck that Milo is attempting to get in is also one of these for what its worth.

Then afterwards another truck blows up, the Oiler.

The larger explosion of this one seems enough to take down the bridge and cause the rest of the convoy to fall in to the chasm below.

As they all fall down the bridge you actually get a pretty clear look at every remaining vehicle.

First you've got a covered truck followed by the plane launcher, then the tanker, the wagon, the command car, a second covered truck and then finally the drill. So that's everything minus the Oiler, 7 vehicles in total.

So somehow a third covered truck appeared only to blow up.

For the rest of the movie the convoy has less focus, since they've gotten to Atlantis, but it remains constant. Audrey says that two of the vehicles were totalled and for the rest of the movie you only see the digger, the two covered trucks, though their coverings eventually get removed, the tanker, and the plane launcher, so its possible that the two vehicles in question were Cookie's wagon and the command car, leaving the functional convoy at 5.

So I guess just for completeness sake, he's what happens with the rest of the convoy.

The group takes the two covered trucks with them to Atlantis. Can't imagine how brave you'd have to be to drive on that bridge.

And then once they've revealed their true intentions the trucks carry the kidnapped princess and everyone who didn't stay behind back to the shaft.

And then they get zapped. A tragic end to these two loyal trucks, so far from home. It wasn't even intentional, Vinny accidentally hit the kill button.

The drill was abandoned after it broke through the wall in to the main chamber, and then eventually met a magma induced end.

The plane launcher finally gets to fulfill its true purpose, before cruelly being killed.

And the Tanker grows up in to a beautiful balloon. (it disappears after this so it might have transformed in to the balloon somehow...)

I don't see a tractor with massive metal wheels in there but anything is possible.

Now the question is, where did that truck come from? Well its interesting, because up to that point, there's actually been a missing truck. If you've looked in to the toys there was a truck for Vinny, an explosives truck.

Its actually in the movie, you can see it very briefly in the background of the loading scene.

The tires match up, as does the haphazard way the truck is loaded.

Now this could just be written off as one of the many casualties of the submarine sinking, but it actually does appear later on, in the scene where they trick Milo in to thinking he's drunken nitroglycerine.

Without seeing the wheels its hard to say for sure, as the covered trucks do take their canopies down occasionally.

One thing against this being part of the convoy is that Vinny goes to drive the Oiler initially, and gets told that he's not allowed within 50 yards of it, which wouldn't have happened if he had a whole truck full of explosives just for him.

But in any case, this mysterious third covered truck appears from no where and explodes. As a little gruesome detail you can actually see the hand of the driver pressed up against the window if you go frame by frame.

Its an interesting catch-22, where the more you like something the more you watch it, and the closer you watch it, so you start to pick up on little mistakes and inconsistencies, and now you know that they're there, forever....

Really, though I'm pointing out an error, I'm really trying to highlight how much care and attention was put in to the movie, outside of that one slip up they did a great job of consistently depicting this little convoy as it travelled to Atlantis.

I feel Atlantis is unfairly maligned, but a lot of care and heart went in to this movie.

For my next trick I'll track all the Sub Pods.

[keanuquotes]

The Enduring Appeal of Keanu Reeves He battles evildoers in 'John Wick 4,' manufactures two-wheel pieces of art, and is worshiped by the internet, but Keanu Reeves swears he's just a normal guy. And he’s got the scars to prove it. Ky HendersonMar 15, 2023 9:00 AM EDT It’s easy to look cool when you’re riding a motorcycle, but it’s hard to look cooler than Keanu Reeves on a brisk, sunny afternoon in Los Angeles. He rests his left hand on his thigh and steers with his right, which gooses the throttle as he weaves around slow drivers. He wears a form-fitting black canvas motorcycle jacket that accentuates how trim he is—even more fit than he appears on-screen—and a beat-up Shoei helmet. He leaves the visor up, choosing instead to shield his eyes with sunglasses the Terminator might wear to a Hamptons garden party. Reeves looks at home and at ease on a motorcycle. He looks cool.

At a gas station stop, he suggests switching bikes. We’re each riding cruisers made by Arch, the motorcycle company Reeves co-founded with designer Gard Hollinger in 2011. The company produces high-end, highly personalized production bikes; I’m on a 1s, the company’s new $100,000+ sport cruiser. Reeves is on an older model, KRGT-1, but it’s his personal Arch, a true one-of-a-kind. It's the only Arch ever painted YK Blue, a color Reeves and Hollinger commissioned based on the ultramarine pigment famously mixed by mid-century French artist Yves Klein. Reeves says all that’s left of the paint is in a tiny can stored somewhere at Arch in case the bike’s paint ever needs touch-ups.

Which it most certainly would if, let’s say, some idiot were to put the bike down in front of a horrified Reeves while riding down the Pacific Coast Highway. Thankfully, there’ll be no lowsides today. Although the bike is beefy, with a 2,032cc V-twin powerplant, it’s easy to maneuver and comfy as a BarcaLounger.

Keanu Reeves stands in motorcycle factory holding blue mug Brian Bowen Smith

Reeves eventually leads us back to Arch’s factory building, which is nondescript from the outside but artfully decorated inside using shipping containers to separate working areas. Metal fabrication is done behind one; customer bikes are lined up in another with technicians hard at work. After Reeves dips outside for a cigarette—the 58-year-old both looks like a much younger man and smokes with the frequent abandon of one—he leads us to a small conference room.

“I like meeting people, but I’m a little reserved,” he warns as he settles into an office chair, looking far less comfortable than he did on a motorcycle. “How much of my private life do I want to talk about? I don’t know. Otherwise, let’s hang out.”

When Reeves was growing up in the Yorkville neighborhood of Toronto, he was consumed with existential thoughts. He discussed death a lot more than the average 11-year-old, for instance—but not because he wanted to die. He just wanted answers to big questions. Perhaps not entirely unrelated to his interest in mortality, he was also obsessed with the biker gangs that periodically motored into the neighborhood. It wasn't pods of dentists letting loose on weekends. It was leathers, patches, menace—the whole deal. And Reeves loved it.

“They looked exotic,” Reeves says. "They looked to me like they were free. Plus the bikes were cool and sounded great.”

Despite his childhood fascination, Reeves was in his early 20s before he first rode a motorcycle. It happened at a movie studio in Berlin—where else?—when he saw a woman on an off-road enduro bike in a parking lot. He approached her and asked if she’d teach him to ride, which she agreed to on the spot. (If you’re wondering why a woman would do that for a total stranger, search “Keanu Reeves in the 80s” in Google Images.)

Not long after he got back to Los Angeles, he bought a 1973 Mk2a Norton Commando, having long admired the classic brand. That bike currently sits in the Arch shop, which is notable for two reasons: One, few longtime riders are lucky enough to be able to hold onto their first bike. Two, over the years Reeves has…suffered some mishaps.

“Yeah, I’ve fallen off a few times,” he admits of the accidents he’s had on a variety of bikes. He takes a swig of water, then corrects himself. “Not ‘fallen off.’ Crashed. I’ve got a couple of hit-by-cars. A couple of going-too-fast. I’ve laid a couple of bikes down but I was riding in the winter, so that’s not really ‘crashing.’ That’s about it. The usual stuff.”

He’s broken ribs, knocked out teeth, sliced his leg open so deep that bone was visible. His most spectacular accident occurred in 1988, only a couple years after that day in Berlin. Reeves was riding alone at night in Malibu’s Topanga Canyon when he took one of the twisties too fast. By the time he came to a stop, he was lying on the pavement wondering if he was about to die. As you know, he didn’t—but he did fuck himself up pretty bad.

“I ruptured my spleen,” he says matter-of-factly. The widely reported version of the story goes that he needed the organ removed, but Reeves says it’s still intact. “They sutured it up and put a Band-Aid on.” He has a gnarly scar running vertically from his sternum down to his belly button, but in the right light it just ends up accentuating his abs because, well, he’s Keanu.

Reeves first met Hollinger through a mutual acquaintance about two decades after that crash, when Reeves wanted a custom sissy bar—basically, a backrest for a passenger—added to his 2005 Harley Davidson Dyna. Hollinger, who at that point was a relatively well-known, well-respected customizer with his own small LA shop, wasn’t interested.

“I knew I could build him the world’s most expensive sissy bar,” Hollinger says, “but I also knew it wouldn’t be satisfying for either of us.”

Instead, Hollinger spent the next five years completely reimagining the bike. He’d work in spurts, changing or adding something, then handing the bike back over to Reeves for months. By the time the bike was finished, Hollinger says, about the only parts of the original Dyna still remaining were the engine and the serial number on the chassis. Today that bike—a chromed-out ride fit for Mad Max—is displayed in the shop, the inspiration for what eventually became Arch.

Keanu Reeves on motorcycle wearing black canvas jacket and sunglasses Brian Bowen Smith

Eventually being the key word. When, during the long process of modding the bike, Reeves first suggested to Hollinger that the two team up to start a motorcycle company, Hollinger didn’t have to think about his answer.

“I knew what a tough business it is, what a challenge it would be—and that it would not be a great investment,” Hollinger, now 63, says with a laugh. “It was a wonderful motorcycle I built and it was wonderful getting to know Keanu, but starting a motorcycle company sounded like a horrible idea.”

Reeves didn’t relent. As the pair became better friends—and as the motorcycle continued to take shape—they’d have long conversations about the realities of starting the company. Hollinger would show up to their discussions with pages of questions written on a legal pad, but what gradually eroded his hesitation was the thoughtfulness with which Reeves described the experience of riding a motorcycle.

Finally, nearly convinced, Hollinger asked Reeves to boil everything down to one reason why they should do something as seemingly crazy as starting a motorcycle company. The actor came up with it on the spot—a reason Hollinger immediately understood, which allowed him to envision the company and its worth as an opportunity to do something meaningful and long-lasting.

“Because,” Reeves told him, channeling the mortality-obsessed 11-year-old kid gawking at dudes on motorcycles, “we’re going to die.”

Related: 2023 Arch 1s Sport Cruiser Is the American (V-twin) Dream

There have been many jokes made over the years about Reeves being a dummy, but after spending about 8 seconds with the guy it’s obvious he’s keenly intelligent. I mention that I read lots of sci-fi and fantasy books as a kid, which prompts him to ask whether I have opinions on several titles, followed by recommendations to read several others.

Thing is, his idiosyncratic public persona—which is sort of like Ted (not Bill) if Ted were a little more shy and a much better dresser—isn’t an act. Reeves isn’t trying to fool his critics or fans. And he isn’t really putting on an act in an attempt to prevent people from knowing who he is. He’s just this very singular, introspective, likable person who happened to become a pop culture icon.

All of that said? He can be pretty goofy. His physical mannerisms are sometimes at odds with what he’s saying, like he’s being controlled by feuding puppeteers. He speaks haltingly, stopping and starting and stopping again, often all in the same sentence, as he considers what exactly he wants to say or, just as likely, what he doesn’t want to say. More than once over the course of an afternoon he giggles—yes, giggles—at something he says or thinks, placing his cupped hand over his mouth like a theatrical school child hiding laughter; the gesture is as strange as it is endearing. He's somehow both laconic and verbose, calm and keyed up.

Although Reeves has long been known as “The internet’s boyfriend,” he’s currently dating—sorry, internet—acclaimed visual artist Alexandra Grant. The pair first collaborated on the 2011 book Ode to Happiness after having known each other previously; in the following years they collaborated on other projects and co-founded the small book imprint X Artists’ Books. Their romantic relationship began about five years ago but only became public knowledge two years in, when they arrived at a red carpet event together.

When asked about Grant, Reeves leans back in his chair as though trying to put both metaphorical and literal distance between himself and the idea of discussing his personal life.

So, uh, maybe it’s best to make it about bikes: What’s Grant’s opinion of Reeves’ (occasionally injurious) motorcycle fixation?

“She used to have a motorcycle, so she’s fine with it,” Reeves says. Then he pauses, as he so often does, seemingly considering whether to say anything more. “She hasn’t ridden in a while.”

Despite his lifelong love of bikes, Reeves hasn’t ridden them much in his movies. There’s a brief scene in the landmark 1991 indie film My Own Private Idaho. There’s some riding in 1996’s Chain Reaction, including one scene in which he manages to outrun an exploding hydrogen reactor. He’s technically on a bike in John Wick 3 while battling bad guys, but that was all done while stationary in front of a green screen. He has no interest in shoehorning Arches into his movies, though a couple of Arches are featured in the futuristic 2020 video game Cyberpunk 2077, in which he also played a major role.

Reeves says there’s a brief motorcycle scene in the upcoming John Wick 4, a movie whose eventual existence might have been laughed at when the original film debuted. Despite the series’ current status as an unstoppable franchise juggernaut, it originally wasn’t even planned as a franchise—and it certainly didn’t appear destined to be one after John Wick received a somewhat tepid theatrical reception in 2014.

“It had some success in the theater, but it really became more popular in second viewings,” Reeves says. “So the studio asked if we wanted to do another one.”

Reeves does more than just kick unbelievable amounts of ass in the movies; he’s also had a hand in plotting out the sequels. The genesis of the third and fourth installments, he says, took place while he and director Chad Stahelski were on the road promoting the second and third movies, respectively.

“Generally, Chad and I cook ’em up while we’re doing press tours,” Reeves says. “We talk about what we’d do next if the current film does well. I’m like, ‘I want to ride a horse and do a horse chase!’ And Chad says, ‘Yeah, we can do it in Central Park!’”

Reeves says he doesn’t know what comes next for him, but John Wick 5 will almost certainly be an option—if he wants to do it. He’s currently developing a TV series, and maybe he’ll make the motorcycle road movie he’s long thought about making. He’ll also no doubt continue riding bikes and growing Arch because he loves doing both.

He says he may continue BRZRKR, the comic series he co-writes. He won’t stop helping others via his philanthropy (he declines to discuss other than to say it’s “in health and the arts”). And he’ll burnish his already-glowing reputation as, in his words, “a pretty respectful and considerate person,” because that’s how he likes to treat people.

“I’m just,” Reeves says as his mouth curls into a smirk and his arms shoot out in front of him as though he’s pleading to be believed, “a normal guy.”

via keanuworld

[bogoakandsilver]

This is where I might get backlash.

This is my art!

As in I digitally painted it and edited it on Canva.

I don't do it anymore because my space to draw whether it be digitally or traditionally is extremely small and overwhelming to try and set up the equipment again.

So I use Canva with its readily available graphics, fonts and photos to be creative in another way. I agreed with my sister the other day that AI art is stealing from artists and I refuse to use AI art in my designs.

Here in lies the dilemma though...I miss my art. I used to draw and digitally paint the weirdest yet coolest things and now that I'm working on being a POD seller, I want to sell merch with MY designs on them. Not just copy and pasted art found in Canva. (The fonts are killer though)

So I have around 10 Canva designs to set up on my store but I think after that I'm going to try and find a way to draw again.

I wanted to be honest with people about the new items in my store.

But I want my designs to be 80-100% mine not just 50%.

I'm going to work on being a better artist one day. I hope you guys support me in that and help buy some logo merch to help me afford a new art program and tools.

It is amazing how stunning someone's art can be if you invest in the mid stuff first.

A lot of us are waiting to pay bills or save up to buy more materials or programs with the money you send us when you buy something.

If you're against my Canva designs but still want to support me, I make jewelry! All Handmade by me 🩵

Check it out and let me know your thoughts 🫶

https://bogoakandsilver.etsy.com

[bagog]

N7 Month, 2023 - Day 18: Pack

Was stumped. A thin little angsty pre-relationship mshenko drabble about a mourning Kaidan after Alchera.

++

The debrief with the Citadel Council had been bad enough, but the debriefing under Admiral Hackett on Arcturus had completely wrung out the last of Kaidan’s patience. He and Joker had been the last to see Council Spectre and Alliance Commander Shepard alive. As ranking officer, Kaidan was getting most of the attention.

Search and survey missions above Alchera had come back negative for any other survivors. Many of the deceased crew had not been recovered, and neither had Shepard.

A burial in space. Kaidan wondered if that would be what Shepard would have wanted. He’d been in and out of meetings for the last 9 hours, telling the same story again and again. He wasn’t allowed to speak with Joker, or anyone from the Normandy. The isolation had galvanized his grief into such a thin point, he wasn’t even aware he still felt the prick of it. How many times could you describe the last moment of your Commander’s life before it became just another story, no added emotional weight. Just recounting the facts.

The small apartment he kept for himself on Arcturus Station felt foreign to him when he finally got back that evening. The Normandy, it’s claustrophobic sleeper pods, had begun to feel like home. He stripped off his uniform and lifted his shirt over his head, sat on the stiff foam mattress and sighed. He’d had friends on the Normandy, pretty good friends who he’d been through hard times with, and they were dead now. Too cold and too small in space to be recovered.

That was one thing he hadn’t gotten a chance to say in all the debriefs: he had lost friends. He had lost Shepard. And the loss was killing him. In a dim corner of the room sat Kaidan’s old brown pack: one of the straps sewn on haphazardly, numerous patches covering holes in the canvas. The sight of it forced a heavy huff out of him.

He walked over, picked up the pack carefully. The zipper stuck, but Kaidan knew how to pull it open anyway. There were civilian clothes inside: just a couple t-shirts, some slacks. There was a pair of swim trunks, sandals. In a separate bag was a menagerie of toiletries—cologne, hair products,--things he didn’t get to use aboard a starship.

The bag was packed for vacation. For shore leave, with Shepard. The two had agreed to spend shore leave on the Citadel together, and Kaidan—ever the boy scout—had packed ahead of their sweep of Alchera, it was supposed to be their final engagement before the well-earned break. Kaidan realized only now, looking at his ready pack, how excited he had been for the opportunity.

At the bottom of the pack was a data-pad: books Shepard had asked Kaidan to recommend to him. It was a task Kaidan had thrown himself at with unexpected fervor. Now that Shepard was dead… he couldn’t remember why.

He pulled the zipper back around, dropped the pack with a thud onto the deck, and returned to the bed. He didn’t need anything out of the pack. Didn’t want to smell like fine cologne, couldn’t stomach the soft civilian clothes, didn’t need to style his hair. All of that could wait, maybe forever.

He lay back in bed, telling himself “not forever.” The grief would pass away some day soon, and he’d be back to everything-as-usual.

The pack sat there in the corner for years.

[d1ana-m0nd]

╭─► ❝A sucker for you❞

Nicholas D. Wolfwood × GN! Reader || Written by Diana (d1ana-m0nd) || Inspired by @spinningwebsandtales

➢ Comedy && Not Proofread , Drabble && Word Count 561

➢ You just wanted some alone time with your thoughts and cigarette but a certain undertaker would not let you have that.

➢ NOTE : I'll be basing the fanfic on the original anime (TRIGUN) and I will mix my headcanon of Nicholas quiting smoking by using lollipop as a substitute.

"Hello, darling. Are you alone out here?" A familiar voice asked, you turned to see the lollipop-addict undertaker.

"We literally came here together." You retorded then went back to staring at the starry night sky. You didn’t want to tell him you had a hard time sleeping or else he would make a big fuss about it.

“And you shouldn’t have come here…”

“Oh please, you and I both know that this was inevitable.” Nicholas said with a knowing smile. You didn’t bother fighting him back. After all, he’s right, he would follow you everywhere you go just because you are his significant other. To Wolfwood, it felt like it was his obligation to be by your side 24/7 even though you didn’t hire for his services as your bodyguard.

With nothing else to say, you rummaged through your pocket and took out your secret stash of cigarettes, took a cigar then lit up the butt of it.

"I didn't take you for a smoker."

You merely let the smoke flared out of your mouth yet, no words were uttered.

The male who leaned against the wall, sighed in response to the silent treatment he received. “I have a feeling you’re not planning on telling me about what’s going on.”

“Oh, that isn’t a feeling.” You said followed by an empty laugh and small smile. You didn’t want to tell him that you wanted to give up on helping Vash, because you knew that would only break his heart, needle noggin’ and wolfwood are practically two peas and a pod. If one of them were to leave the other, the other person would be forced to embrace loneliness again.

Getting the memo, the man beside you decided he would just silently accompany you in star gazing. As he skimmed through the black canvas above him that had white specks of dots; he was looking for star alignments he was familiar with but had difficulty concentrating because of the smoke emanating from you. Wanting to get rid of the smoke, he thought he’d give you one of his lollies.

"Here, I got a sucker for you."

“Thanks.” You discarded the cigarette then took the lollipop from him and plopped it into your mouth. As your tongue plays with the orb of sweetness in your mouth, you realize something odd. The lollipop already had bitemarks and it had a layer of saliva on it, you momentarily took it out then faced him with an unamused look.

Nicholas feigned ignorance to your unamused gaze, even though he could see from his peripheral vision that you were silently seeking for his attention. He will admit, you looked adorable, though he will keep pretending he is busy enjoying the night sky. To grab his attention, you “lightly” punched his side ignoring how he grunted in pain.

“Was this the same one you were sucking on earlier?”

The undertaker wore a huge smile on his face. “To be fair, that was the last one, and it’s not like you haven’t sucked something that isn’t mine-” Before he could finish that sentence, you interrupted him with a punch to the jaw.

➢ TAGLIST : @attackontitansimper (If you're wondering why I tagged you in this one shot, here's my reason.)

[emo-gremlin]

First date with Lolzhax headcannons?

LETS GOOOOOOOOOOO

Lolzhax x reader first date!

🌌 He took a pod for the both of you, not telling you where he was going. All he told you was that it was close enough to the base that if an emergency were to arise, you'd have more than enough air and energy to get back to base.

🌌 He had you sit in the driver's seat with your eyes closed as he put in the coordinates to the surprise he wanted to show you.

🌌 "OK. We're here." He finally stated, an electric smile on his screen.

🌌 You look out the window to an array of stars, light and gas. It looked as if two forces had collided with each other. Whites, oranges, pinks and light purples dancing across the black canvas of space.

🌌 "This..."

🌌 "Its called a Planetary Nebula. Basically the residue of dying stars and gas they leave behind. Planetary nebulae only last for about 20,000 years, making them a very short-lived part of the stellar life cycle. I saw we were passing one and I..." He had trailed off, seeing how captivated you were at the sight before you.

🌌 He couldn't help but smile. The pure wonder in your eyes framed the view perfectly. Emboldened, he reached for your hand.

🌌 Before he could reach it, your hands shot to his screen, pulling him close so you could kiss him. "Its beautiful, Lolzhax."

🌌 He could feel his screen overheat a little, but he ignored it. "Not as beautiful as you..." He thought aloud.

🌌 You blush, "How did you even know this was here?"

🌌 "Part of my protocols is that I have the bases' sensors scan for potential risks. They picked up this dying star, and I thought you might like it."

🌌 You kiss his screen again. "I love it." You turn back to the nebulae. "Hard to believe all this happens off earth, huh?"

🌌 Lolzhax was silent. You look over at him, cocking a brown.

🌌 "Whats earth like?" He asked.

🌌 "You've never-" "I was made at the base. I've only....seen it in scanners and what the crew shows me in their pictures."

🌌 "Its...." You think. How do you explain it to someone who's never seen it? "Its home. It's a place of beauty, and pain, and kindness and cruelty. But despite everything you go through...the sun always comes back. You survived the pain and cruelty to see the sun light up the bright fall leaves, or the sun rise bathing the ocean waves."

🌌 Lolzhax was enchanted. Holding his screen in his hands as you told him about earth. His eyes turned to hearts on his screen as he clung to every word.

🌌 "Maybe I can take you some day." You ponder, looking back to him.

🌌 "R-really?!" His screen lit up brighter.

🌌 "I'll have to talk to a few people, but I think I might be able to pull it off." Lolzhax wrapped his arms around you several times, loose enough you can breathe, but tight enough he could lift and spin you.

🌌 "THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU!!!!!!" He bumps his screen against your forehead. His eyes had pixels in the corners, simulating tears.

🌌 You cup the side of his screen. "I love you."

🌌 THUNK!

🌌 "Lolzhax.exe has stopped working. Please call Fred bear for assistance. Error code 1L0V3Y0U2." His screen read.

🌌 You giggle, reaching for the walkie that was next to the auto pilot controls. "Hey Fred?"

🌌 "Hey! What's up? Everything ok with your guys' date?"

🌌 "Why haven't you fixed his bluescreens yet?" You hear a laugh coming from the walkie.

🌌 "Alright, I'm sending a recall order to the pod, it should bring you back to base and we can reboot him."

🌌 "Thanks, Fred." You reply, watching the Nebulae fade from sight.

This ⬇️ was the nebulae I used. ^^

Enjoy!

[lu-dao-writes]

𝐄𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐝 (𝙷𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚒𝚊𝚗)

🐚 𝒮𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ࿐ ˊˎ- 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎’𝚜 𝚊 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚖𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚎𝚗𝚊𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚢.

🫧 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔(𝓈) ࿐ ˊˎ- Mention of poachers, small mention of egg laying and being sold.

🪸 𝒜/𝒩 ࿐ ˊˎ- My first Hualian piece! I hope no one is too OOC🤞🏼🤞🏼! Also sorry for my possible weak descriptions 🫣💕. I created the image above in Canva, the artist of XL and HC is STARember.

𝐎𝐔𝐓 of all the mermaids they’ve rescued, Xiè Lián will forever be the easiest.

He hardly ever caused problems, fussed, or spilt any blood.

Líng Wén found it interesting because Xiè Lián lived in the ocean rather than in captivity, and he was very passive, almost as if he’s lived here his entire life.

Perhaps, she had concluded, he just lived in a large pod and safe environment and there was little to no danger. Líng Wén has been learning how to communicate with the mermaids and Xiè Lián had no problem wanting to help her learn, and she in turn was helping him learn human language.

But turns out, Xiè Lián was banished from his pod and that was the reason how they ended up rescuing him. The opalescent mermaid was captured by poachers and they were going to force him to produce eggs and sell them and his scales, and or maybe try to see if Xiè Lián himself could be sold for a pretty penny.

She’s glad that they saved him from a terrible fate.

Xiè Lián is not only intelligent, but just a friendly soul since he’s listened to her vent a few times when she’s had a rough day. Of course she doesn’t make this a habit though.

Of course Líng Wén shouldn’t have favorites, but she can’t help but elect Xiè Lián as her favorite.

There were some that were troublesome to deal with, like Qī Róng for example. He… Loved to play games and sometimes those games resulted in someone getting hurt or scared, but mostly disgusted.

Mù Qíng was rather bossy and fussy. If his tank wasn’t spotless he’d throw a huge tantrum. Thankfully Fēng Xìn had to deal with him and the bluette was glad she didn’t have to deal with what Fēng Xìn had to deal with on a day to day basis.

But looking at the newest mer creature that was rescued… Qī Róng might get a demotion…

This new mermaid is a male and if Líng Wén could describe him in a few words, she’d say he’s devastatingly beautiful. His tail is tri-colored: crimson red, onyx, and milky white that also decorate his torso, shoulders, fins, and face. The skin of his forearms are also black, and his fingers are deadly with sharp claws. The man is also missing an eye and the remaining one is pupil-less and a Smokey red, the corners being darker than in the center. And finally, he has long, flowing blank hair and ruddy red horns sticking out.

A very beautiful man indeed, but he was quite aggressive and stubborn.

He refused care or to eat and no one could enter into his domain because he’d attack them or give them the scare of a lifetime.

One day though… A breakthrough occurred.

Xiè Lián was passing by and the ravenette was instantly fascinated by the opal scaled mer, and Xiè Lián seemed just as captivated.

The ravenette refused to stop looking at Xiè Lián, even when Xiè Lián eventually had to tip his head back upright from having hung backwards, soon disappearing out of sight as he had to get a checkup.

Líng Wén was informed that the tri-colored mermaid refused to move or look away where Xiè Lián went, seemingly waiting for his return.

Péi Míng suggested that the two try to bond since they seem so interested in the other, but Líng Wén was hesitant.

Xiè Lián is the darling of the sanctuary and no one wanted him to get hurt.

This new mer is too unpredictable…

“IF we do this we need to be cautious. Perhaps we should take them out—.”

“Do you think he’ll even let us get him out of there?” Péi Míng asks with a knowing smile.

The bluette sighs tiredly, giving the man an unamused stare. Péi Míng does unfortunately have a good point…

“Let’s just put Xiè Lián into his tank. I honestly think he’ll be fine, call it a gut feeling.”

“…Fine.”

So here they are strapping Xiè Lián in so that he can be lowered into the tank. The marbled eyed mermaid gently squeezes Líng Wén’s arm, sensing her anxiety.

Her brows soften and she gives him a soft but small smile, reaching out to gently rub the top of his head. “Give him hell if he bothers you.”

Xiè Lián gives her a soft laugh and a nod before he’s being slowly lifted up and soon placed into the tank.

The water is a little colder and darker than he’s used to, but he soon gets used to it and leaves the safety of the ties, searching around for the tri-colored mer, but he was nowhere in sight.

‘So he’s hiding…’

Xiè Lián debates on finding him or just waiting for him to come out on his own terms.

‘It’s probably safer here,’ he thought, glancing towards his caretaker and Péi Míng . Although it quickly got boring just waiting, and to help warm himself up too, he starts humming and twirling around.

From outside the tank the two couldn’t help but smile as they watched Xiè Lián dance as it was always a treat to watch him perform.

“Look there!” Péi Míng suddenly gasps eagerly with a point, startling Líng Wén .

Xiè Lián was so lost in his own song and dance he didn’t notice that a red eye was trained on his form, inching out of the darkness.

It was only when the opal scaled mer heard foreign humming did he stop, spinning to find the source.

The newcomer is now a little closer and Xiè Lián can’t help but take in his form, his face slowly growing warm as he stares at his sculpted waist.

The ravenette was slowly growing closer and closer at a snail's pace, probably not wanting to scare the other, but Xiè Lián is far from scared.

The brown-black haired mer finally meets his eyes with the other and gives him a bright, encouraging smile, beckoning him over, and soon the ravenette was face to face with Xiè Lián.

Right away Xiè Lián notices that the other man dwarfs him by 2 to 3 inches, but still he wasn’t frightened.

The two were just gazing at each other and the opal scaled man can feel his heart fluttering a bit, not being able to deny how beautiful the tri-colored man is.

The ravenette’s lips suddenly inch upward into a smirk. “Am I that beautiful that I have you speechless~?”

Xiè Lián sputters a second before scoffing softly. “Don’t pretend you weren’t staring at me either… But to answer your question, yes, your beauty has me at a loss for words. You’re truly blessed.”

The ravenette’s fins fan out and he looks away briefly, his arms locking behind him.

“I’m Xiè Lián, and you are?” he asks, leaning a bit closer with a slight teasing smile.

The ravenette doesn’t reply right away and just as Xiè Lián goes to assure him, he speaks.

“Call me Sān Láng .”