#Ill probably draw little things for this as I go but I figured it would be good to put some thoughts into a fic!

[ninjastar107]

'Caught Inbetween' - A protoman-centered MMC fic

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3] [PART 4] [PART 5]

What was he, really? He was too advance to be like the other machines, but he was too mechanical to be human. Somehow he found himself being a bit of both, being seen as a kid dressed up in a costume by onlookers until they had a better look at his eyes.

The glow always gave him away.

Too mechanical to cause harm, but too human to follow orders. He was a machine, but to what purpose? A son? A vagabond? Blues let the 'thought' be his last. He watched the sunset through dimming vision, the orange mass wobbling and melting into the horizon.

-- "Solar powered, of course that blasted Dr. Light built this one…" an unfamiliar voice grumbled, " Faulty too, must be a prototype."

Where was he? Who was that? He was barely past the BIOS screen when the world faded out once again.

--

Something had changed. There was a new heat that ran through his tubes and wires, coursing with the force of a fusion reactor. Blues snapped his eyes open, the shock of his functions running without delay holding him in silence. Here he was again upon a table, just like the first day he was activated all over again. Above him stood the doctor -a different one this time- who marveled proudly at his work. "Who are you?" Blues asked in awe. "Just an old doctor who happened upon you. Dr. Light always gives up halfway through making a robot, and I always have to finish the job." Wily lamented, "Like with you and your faulty core that I generously replaced. Not all of his robots get this special treatment from me!" Blues sat up. The area around felt like a lab albeit a bit too bright for his liking. Why he could hardly see the doctor over the floodlight above him. A few white screens flickered against the wall, too bright for him to make out anything. "I have so little at my disposal but I had just enough to fix you up! Now you can go and fulfill your function!" Wily smiled. Blues thought on it, flexing his fingers. "I do not have one." Wily stared at him, eyes narrowing as a smug grin tugged at his cheeks, "Oh leave it to Light to not even program that into his machines… No matter, I can fix that!" Blues watched the doctor pace around before heading towards the monitors and merging with the light. He boxed his eyes in an attempt to dim the area, feeling for the light switch on the floodlight and accidentally knocking a few tools off a side table. Wily flashed a brief glare between rummaging about, his hands moving to make a slight modification to the helmet he fashioned. "Hold still now," Wily ordered and promptly stuck it on him, "There you go my boy, a little protection for your new purpose!" The world dimmed tremendously beneath the tinted visor, unveiling a level of detail more attuned to what he was used to. It must be a side effect to the new core, maybe too much energy flow to his optics? The only other explanation would be that this doctor looked at more than his power input... "You never explained what that exactly is." Wily ran a hand down his mustache in disdain, "The world out there is so cruel to someone like me, a shunned expert. Dr.Light gets all of the credit for all of the hard work I put in, why I'm practically exiled from society!" The doctor went back to rummaging, "There is this pesky robot named 'Megaman' always destroying my work! Nothing but minor setbacks, but annoying ones at that! I want you to stop him." Blues glanced down at the buster Wily had procured and offered. He had seen similar designed tools for construction droids, but never without extra wires or battery. "The pest has one similar, but yours is much more powerful. You should be able to defeat him easily- here, let ol' Dr. Wily install it for you!" Not that Blues was going to say no, this doctor saved his life after all and it wouldn't be right to not repay him in some way. He watched intently at the process, noting what parts need to be removed and readjusted so that he could reverse it later. This was just all part of the repayment plan, and once Megaman was defeated, he would return to his normal wandering ways. He wasn't programmed for combat…. but how hard could it be?

[pomefioredove]

hello hello! i see that the headcanon requests are open, so i have arrived 🐺🐺 i'd like to request the housewardens + chenya, neige and ortho with a reader that's mute! i feel like this would be an interesting thing to go off of. feel free to write it as something reader gained after a certain event, or as an illness that they were born with. platonic would be great, but i think romantic would be absolutely adorable too (minus ortho obviously) so go wild, do whatever you want >:) if this is fine for you to write of course!! love your writing, youre my favourite blog on tumblr hehe (runs away)

thank you so much!! and ofc ofc. I'm writing this based off my own experiences with being semiverbal so if I get something wrong,,, that's on me 😔

summary: nonspeaking reader type of post: headcanons characters: riddle, che'nya, leona, azul, kalim, vil, neige, idia, ortho (platonic), malleus additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

I think Riddle is more adaptive than others give him credit for

it's not like there's any rule about not speaking

(and if there was, he would make an exception for you. he's not completely unreasonable)

I can see him learning sign language with you

and if that's not your thing, he'll figure something else out

he's a fast learner, after all

and he wants to make you comfortable, too. not that he'd ever outright admit it...

(obvious favoritism)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Che'nya is always quick on his feet

or... on air?

anyway

that means that he isn't one to let the absence of conversation stop him from his usual mischief

and he does love charades...

it's almost like he can read your thoughts. or your... hands? expressions?

whenever someone is giving you a hard time, they miiight just end up talking back to a floating head

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Leona actually never really... brings it up

before he had the full story, he just figured you were shy around him

(which went straight to his head, of course)

so he was already used to it when he found out it's not something you can control

and... he treats you no different for it

he knows you're not stupid or rude just because you're not yapping all the time

and if anyone else gave you a hard time about it... they'd be answering to him

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

no worries with Azul

I mean, the guy can really do it all

sign language, pen and paper, text-to-speech, body language...

he's rather adaptable, and, trust me, being unable or unwilling to speak won't stop him

the offer to give you the voice of a beautiful singer is still on the table... but he can't blame you for not taking the deal

of course

in the meantime, you can come to him for anything and he'll help you out

on the house <3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Kalim's heart is in the right place

is he disappointed you won't be able to talk and sing and cheer with him? a little

you're used to the disappointment, unfortunately

but he doesn't give up so easily

or... at all

no singing? he's handing you an instrument

no talking? no problem, he knows you're still listening!

no hummin, shouting, cheering? he can make enough noise for the both of you

he makes sure you're included in everything

very sweet

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Vil has high expectations, but he isn't unreasonable

if you can't talk, you can't talk, and that's final

that doesn't excuse you from everything else in his strict regimen, though

what may be a weakness to others is a strength to him

you can improve yourself tenfold by focusing on what you can do rather than what you can't

writing, dancing, music...

however you choose to express yourself, he's very supportive

much like Kalim, he includes you in every conversation, every decision, every yes/no question

he's pretty great

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Neige! Neige is a sweetie

I like to think of Neige as someone who's actually quite timid in person, despite his career

it's probably your quietness that draws him to you in the first place

he is so very supportive

he's the kind of introvert to suddenly become extroverted when someone needs help

"excuse me, they asked for no pickles" type of guy

he'll hold your hand through everything if you need it, and remain by your side if you don't

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

Ortho and Idia are probably the best people to have on your side

Idia just feels so much more... comfortable around you, since he struggles with speaking, himself

he'll let you use his tablet if you need it to speak

...and then he'll get you one of your own, so he doesn't have a heart attack when you accidentally switch tabs

he'll even program a custom voice or two for you

Ortho is a walking translator for you

with a database full of information on body language and expression, he can determine your emotional state in a single glance

he's happy to help in any way he can, of course!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚

at some point, Malleus needs a shirt that says "#1 Prefect Defender"

you haven't said a single word to him but if anything happened to you he would curse everyone in this room and then himself

(he means well, I promise)

he's never minded, nor questioned your silence

certain fae communicate through lights or movement rather than sound, so it isn't even anything strange to him

you fit right in at Diasomnia

and you're welcome to stay here for as long as you please

(hint hint)

[aikrus]

"You're haunting me."

i don't think aizawa would let you go easily, and i'm probably not gonna do anything with this

"I love you," he breathes like that explains it all.

You step away and it's so natural these days that you don't even shake.

"I don't know what to do without you."

He's grabbing your wrist, tight but tender and you can feel the sparks traveling from the tips of your fingers straight through your ill stomach.

Looking at him, you can tell just how genuine the words are. He's a mess, glossy eyes and red, patchy skin. His lips are cracked and he seems breathless, he seems desperate.

You've seen him like this before.

"We can't keep doing this," you shake your head and plead he'll understand; but you know better. It's been nonstop in this give and take of yours, as foolproof as the water cycle.

"We can do this," he insists, but there's no point. His grey eyes spark with life and promise and hope, and despite the grimy streets he stood on Shouta was- without a doubt- beautiful in a radiant holy manner.

Last time, you think receiving that look along side the gentle stroke of his thumb across the inside of your wrist was enough.

"I can't."

You don't look at him- refuse to in fact and the tightening of his grip solidifies your resolve.

His breath hitches, it's a rare thing and hurts all the more. "But you love me. And you know I love you too."

He says it like it makes sense, like in this situation that's all that should matter. Still, too many nights were spent awake and in fear.

You knew too much, after the first time you kept seeing through more and more of this glamour he draped over you like a blessing.

He'll keep pushing. He'll never stop if you don't end it here and it's itching at your heart.

"It's not enough."

You wait a second and settle your stomach easily despite the acid rushing up your throat while hiding behind your closed eyes. "You're not enough."

He lets you go. It could be over, but seeing his foot step closer you figured it may take a little more- he's the type to need to draw conclusions by himself.

You rip your now free arm away from him and stumble back. He looks shocked and hurt, and people are starting to not so subtly group together and watch.

"You're a ghost, Shouta; my own personal monster to terrorize my every breathing moment. I wake up in the morning gasping for air and sleep each night so sure I won't open my eyes again."

You feel tears start to rush and let them flow without resistance. If he sees the way people look at him now he might let go a little easier.

"My phone rings and I'm shaking in fear, and I watch my words even though I know it wouldn't matter." He looks at you with a new layer of shock and maybe horror, though after a second it seems like nothing more like disappointment and regret.

You'd thrown the wire's he'd dispersed around the room that morning. He must've thought they'd be harder to see than the cameras, but your lover was known to underestimate you.

"I can't keep living like this." You look in his eyes clearly now, letting the grim expression filled with heartbreak etch itself uselessly in your memory.

He may not believe you yet, but you square your shoulders and speak directly: "I won't live like this."

It sounds like a threat and a small thrill travels up your spine when it becomes obvious he took it as one. Shouta looks positively devastated at the thought of you being harmed in any way, you supposed being upset was harm in a way.

You've had this feeling, and you swear on your soul that it's true, that if you didn't get out now you might never be able to.

"You're haunting me," you insist with one last tear, "and I think it's time to pass on."

You walk straight ahead- straight towards him- and brush past without looking his way. He lets you go, and that's more than you expected from him.

You took step after step with baited breath held in suspension each block. The farther you got the more you were sure; it was your time to be a ghost. You'd disappear, and you'd never have to think of the monster you found-and fell in love with-in Hosu ever again.

[zan0tix]

Pleaseeee tell me more about that homescryption au

A little something between you and me and everyone else who happens to look at this post. Im working on a lineup for the four scrybes :D

Roxys design is subject to change and you guys have already seen D1rk. Jane and Jake are in progress!!! (Also D1rk and Harley are the names for dirk and jake but weve been struggling to come up with appropriately fantasical/magical names for Jane and Roxy that align with magnificus and grimora😞 Harley feels old-manish enough that it fits in well… im sure well get there but if anybody has ideas feel free to comment ✌️)

But yes i can tell you more!!! ILL PUT IT ALL UNDER THE CUT THIS POST IS GOING TO BE LONG o7

Working with cyrus repliiku to flesh it out x3 he was the one who got me into the game and im CRAZY NOW!!!!

The four alpha scrybes methods of inscribing cards are that Harley uses his magic blunderbuss and the things he shoots become cards, Roxys cards are the fantasical characters she creates in her stories, Jane will be a detective of death, uncovering how cards die and writing up a casefile in her detective agency about them (might give her a magic magnifying glass. Well see), and D1rk were trying to figure out something with Sburbs captcha card + ghost captcha system like how Po3’s cards are printed from real robots

The students/the scrybes underlings are going to be other homestuck characters or splinters!

D1rks will be the robots (aradiabot, arquius (wanted him to me more unique than just brobot + hal so he gets to be a robot) and jadebot.

Harleys will be jake-ish splinters rather than new characters. Thered be the Adventurer (prospector), the Hunter (trapper/trader), the Sailor (angler), the Ectobiologist (mycologists), and the Actor (woodcarver) and his campaigns would be more Action packed like jakes action movies type stuff hehe

Janes will be the dead trolls, nepeta, equius and feferi. Not much to say besides them being dead lol 😭

And roxys were still figuring out but nerm. Viceroy/Casey, Rose (maybe goobert but they are actually nice and kind to her) and Eridan….(lonely wizard he was banished to the shadow realm for being annoying 😁👍)

Luke Carter is going to be Calliope and Satan in the greater scheme of the daniel mullins-verse will be Caliborn/Lord English because i think itd be very funny for him to just. Be making video games and thats his evil plot. LOL and Sado would be Gamzee. (Will not expand to pony island or the hex this is just clearing up the ending of inscryption)

Kaycee would probably be Aranea but like just some normal girl. Not all that sure abt the OLD_DATA tho ??? Maybe just all the wrong doings Lord English has committed and influenced culminated into the files or the code that brought him into the universe I DUNNO.

Retconning the drawing i did when i first scribbled this AU, i believe when harley turns the other scrybes into preexisting cards d1rk would become a seagull (kingfisher replacement) roxy would become a jaguar (wolf replacement) and jane would become a jackalope (pronghorn replacement) 😁

And the way harley would be defeated would be using his blunderbuss on him with a special bullet instead of film. Po3’s decapitation fulfilled the Dirk prophecy too LOL

I think that of the gameplay/card gimmicks themselves would work basically the same but i might try and come up with more creative homestucky twists on them

Im planning on finishing the designs and making sprites and more mockup screenshots :3

I might write up or draw a comprehensive ref sheet for this au someday but for now heres what weve jotted down 👍

[the-s1lly-corner]

TADC cast x supportive!reader (platonic)

except its hyper specific and applies to my oc specifically because i need a little pick me up today reader is like the circus members anchor as well as a generally serving as a support system and has been in the circus for a while. havent decided on how long but definitely getting close to kinger in terms of how long theyve been stuck. kind of gives off dad energy have not shared the oc here on this blog but i have shared them elsewhere, wont say where because im embarrassed </3 this was originally gonna be a ship chart dynamic but im too tired to draw everyone plus this feels more fun using 'you/your' pronouns for the reader even though its an oc so you guys can at least like, insert yourself REMINDER requests are closed, this is a personal request from myself. any requests sent now will not be answered even after they reopen. please respect that and understand that requests are closed

CAINE:

saved caine for last (yes i know hes the first one in the list hush i dont actually write these in order) i think you and him would have friendly back and forth banter. youve accepted your place in the digital circus long ago so you dont see much point in trying to interrogate him for information on a possible exit. and sure, i dont know if caine can abstract, but i think he enjoys the conversations between the two of you... that said, given how accepting you are with everything as well as having a "roll with it" outlook on the digital world, he probably uses you as plot stuff and props for IHA; be it as a false hostage or as a means to progress the adventure... definitely has a soft spot for you, i think... jax and bubble have a dark bet on when you will finally abstract/j

RAGATHA:

ah yes the optimistic duo, the hopeful pals, the sillies. you two are probably the main reason why everyone else is... mostly... fine, i mean i think having someone be so friendly and open cane make things a little easier for other people. as well as this you two mutually lean on each other for support and uplift one another when things get tough. i mention it in kingers part, but you too are also afraid of bugs but you would help ragatha clear her room of centipedes in a heartbeat, even going as far as to collect them with your bare hands.. so uh... take that as a testament to yalls friendship

JAX:

now im a little stumped on this one because i really dont think the "reader" would be buddy buddy with jax... or maybe they would be... hmm.. on one hand i can see them scolding him for pushing his pranks 'too far' (ex. the ragatha centipede thing, assuming he actually did it), but i can also see a "supportive figure and rebellious kid" dynamic. except jax isnt a kid but you are old enough be his dad, probably.. i think ill just leave that here since i dont have any other ideas

POMNI:

youve been here for a while, so i think naturally pomni would gravitate towards you in order for possible solutions and escape routes, perhaps she would approach kinger, too... but this isnt about kinger </3. fine line between outright shattering their hope but also instilling it, neither are great options... one can lead to despair and the other to obsession; both will lead to abstraction... but theres also the fact none of your past attempts at escape had been successful, nor did you ever find any leads. as for actual potential friendship i think you would take the same route as ragatha in the pilot; show her around and explain things to her in a fairly digestible way. as well as this you tend to gravitate towards her during her first IHA until she gets the hang of them; typically making sure she doesnt get lost or hurt, as well as giving her pointers that could help with the task at hand

KINGER:

writing kinger first, you guys are like the dads of the circus. you more so because you still have a decent hold of yourself. you were there when queener/queenie abstracted, and you were there for kinger during the still on going grieving process. as for actually friendship ideas, you two just sit and talk to one another. thats it, really. i could go on about all the things you two do together, and i probably would since kinger is my favorite and this post is literally about my oc... but i truly dont see these two getting up to anything insane outside of IHA. kinger needs someone to help him fill the silence, and you would be there. and vice versa, i think... bonus, you dont like bugs but you still grin and bare it while listening to kinger rattle on about his cool bug facts... i think that would be nice..

ZOOBLE:

optimistic dad who likes fishing and moody teen who bullies kids on roblox. thats literally the dynamic, except again, zooble is an adult and the reader has no kids... but hey its the same energy. tries to get zooble to engage with IHA but not in a pushy way but more in like... an inviting them to pair with them for comfort and security kind of way. sure you understand that they dont like them because theyre just so over everything but you want them to be included, especially since the IHA are meant to stimulate your minds and keep you guys grounded

GANGLE:

honestly i think you just adopt half of the cast at this point, the only people who arent your kids are ragatha caine and kinger... everyone else gets passed around in split custody/j now onto gangle, you probably try to give her peptalks to make her feel better as well as fixing her comedy mask anytime it breaks. as well as this i think you and her sit down and do arts n crafts together, perhaps even making new masks altogether... i like to think gangle hears a few... things about the others and knows things since shes so quiet and in the background so theres definitely some 'gossip' between the two of you... but not in a shit talking way, no i dont think either of you are like that, rather more so just talking about the others

BONUS STUFF:

you call gangle, zooble, jax, and pomni generic 'dad nicknames' so like. think sport, champ, bud, pal. stuff like that, with varying reactions... i think gangle wouldnt fight it and actually appreciates it. zooble scoffs and rolls their eyes, jax plays into it while loudly and obnoxiously calling you dad. (whenever you ask him to do something he loudly goes like "okay DAAAAAAD" before likely not doing the thing that was asked of him), pomni is just confused really since shes not all that used to it. huh. guess youre a dad of 4 now

you and ragatha tend to clean up after the others, leaving you two alone and you guys just. talk as you clean. probably do impressions of the others in a really comical and dramatic as well as exchanging stories

you and kinger hunt for new pillows to add to his fort. you try to coax him into stepping out of the tent and explore the grounds, so far you're unsuccessful

touching on the gossip thing from gangles part caine probably tries to ask you for some "juicy drama" about the others. who is having issues with her, whos crushing on who, stuff like that... i think caine would try to play matchmaker if there actually is someone who has a crush on someone else... this goes for the current cast as well as those who have come and gone from the digital circus (cough cough abstracted)

[theautotrophic]

my girl Violette!!!!

Dumping all the lore I have about my stupid little girlfailure bisexual radiostatic fankid <<<3333

So basically, she's a loser, a fossil, and I don't mean to sound hostile - but the demon is a coward >>:D

She's an absolute LOSER GIRLFAILURE just like her dad <3

Idk know how to explain it honestly, like, just think of the biggest, most dumbest of ass, girl loser you can think of and that's her

Just an absolutely deranged loser idiot

She runs a company with her brother Veer (maybe streaming or smth 🤔🤔 I haven't figured it out yet). She's the "creative mind" (kills people) and he's the brains behind the operation

A company name I thought of might be Viedio Enterprises?

For her powers they're a bit of a mixture between Vox and Alastor

She can travel via shadows the same as Alastor

She can use other people's shadows to puppeteer them

She's got a connection to the Internet and television the same as Vox because of her head and antenna

Can play things through her radio and on her screen and manipulate devices around her

Connection to radiowaves

She can probably traverse the Internet

Can corrupt technology

Basically, she would be an extremely powerful overlord if she wasn't such an idiot

I think I'm gonna have like two different timelines for this AU since I couldn't decide if I wanted them to be adults or kids when the hotel opens and Alastor returns after 7 years

Cause I think it would be really funny if Vox accidentally created her (and her brother Veer who I'll probably post for later once I actually make a good drawing of him) while Alastor was away for seven years and Alastor comes back and learns he has kids and is like "how the fuck-"

But also their adult personalties are so fun and I'd love to think about how they would react to Alastor going missing for 7 years (cause if they were adults he def would have raised them with Vox) and I just think the potential in that AU is more fun, while them being kids I can just think of a lot of art and funny moments to draw

So, in the case where they're younger Vox would accidentally create them a few months after Alastor has left when he's super desperate to find him. He would be like doing some type of demonic magic summoning circle type shit to try and summon Alastor or find out where he is but he has actually no idea what he's doing. So he's got like this whole setup sort of thing with like his blood and Alastor's hair in this wholeass satanic circle. And so he does the spell. And instead of summoning Alastor it like combines their DNA and BOOM, congrats ur a single father now. And now Vox just has two kids to raise. (Yes I thought of all this just because mpr3g makes me uncomfy (but also this scenario is both very funny and kind of sad to me and I will be drawing it at some point. probably)).

OR

if they were older, like in their twenties by the time Alastor comes back idk Vox would probably still accidentally create them somehow I'd have to think about it

So yeah ill probably just do both versions and do what I want

Anyways! Send me asks about her if you'd like I'd love to talk about her :]

[assortedseaglass]

The Seamstress & The Sailor - Chapter Twenty Three

Tom Bennett x Bess Vaughn (OFC)

[Masterlist]

Warnings: Strong Language, Angst, Smut, Violence, Depictions of War, Mentions of Death, Depictions of PTSD, Injury Detail, Era typical Sexism, Era typical Homophobia, Mentions of Sexual Assault, Mentions of Domestic Abuse (very brief), Depictions of Reproductive Health, Suicidal Thoughts, World on Fire Spoilers.

Notes: Been a while, hasn’t it? Here's 7K for ya. I’m writing this for me and the few people that are still engaging with it. If you enjoy it, and you know who guys you are, then I’m happy!

There are probably mistakes, but I'm ill. Soz.

“Morning, pet. Brought you a cuppa. Poor thing,” A soft hand ran over Tom’s forehead, as though testing his temperature, and brushed the hair from his eyes. “You know you’re always welcome here.”

Tom’s head was pounding. Rubbing bleary eyes, he took the tea from the person above him. Perfectly manicured nails, ringlets, red lipstick and the overpowering smell of lavender.

“Cheers, Queenie.”

“Anytime, love. Here,” she draped his threadbare jacket over the bedframe. “Tried to get the mud out as best I could.”

“Mud?”

“Yeah,” Queenie chuckled. “You fell over by the park. Our Frank was worried he’d have to carry you the rest of the way. Listen, I’ve got bacon and eggs on the stove, pop down when you’re dressed.” With small, high-heeled steps, she tottered from the room.

Fuck.

Tom rose tentatively from the bed, his head pounding. When he felt he could stand without vomiting, he made his way to the small wash basin in the corner of the room and caught sight of himself in the old mirror.

If it wasn’t for the pulsing of his head, Tom would have suspected he’d died and was looking at his own ghostly reflection. Purple circles rimmed his usually bright eyes, which were dull and tired. His skin clung to his face- he could do with twelve plates of Queenie’s bacon and eggs by the looks of him -and the shadow of his stubble was darkening his chin. Despite his age, he looked old. As though someone had tried to draw youth after only having it described to them. A thousand lives had been lived behind his eyes, some of them he wouldn’t wish on anyone.

“Breakfast, Tom!” Queenie called up the stairs. Tom splashed his face with water and, looking at his reflection once more, had to fight the urge to spit at it. Pathetic.

Downstairs, Queenie was fussing around the kitchen table at which sat two distinctly different figures. Frank Smith was reading a newspaper, a steaming cup of tea beside him. Upon seeing Tom, he muttered a quiet “good morning”, and hid behind the paper. Opposite him was perhaps the oldest lady Tom had ever seen. Wrapped in moth eaten shawls and gawdy jewellery, she wore a permanent smile, though even from where Tom stood he could see that nothing much was going on behind her eyes.

“Have a seat, Tom.” Queenie passed him a plate of breakfast. The only seat available was by Frank, and the man shuffled awkwardly as Tom sat beside him, memories of Tom screaming at him in the school corridor swirling in his mind. The old lady opposite looked slowly up at Tom and gave him a gummy smile. She gargled a little.

“Hello, m’am,” Tom nodded his head and went about adding sugar and milk to his tea.

“This is Tom, Nanna.” Queenie bent low and shouted in the woman’s ear. “Tom. Bennett. Poor old thing doesn’t know today from tomorrow but she seems happy enough,” she directed at Tom, who nodded wearily and shovelled eggs into his mouth.

“Beautiful boy,” the old woman said. Her gummy smile was a little off putting but the kindness, even if she said this kind of thing to everyone, was just what Tom needed in his hungover shame. He placed his hand over hers. “Beautiful boy,” she cooed as though looking at a newborn. Tom supposed, compared to her great age, he was.

“She’ll be one hundred and two in March, won’t you Nanna?” Queenie shouted.

“Don’t look a day over twenty-one,” Tom said.

Nanna Warren let out a hearty heh heh and allowed Queenie to spoon porridge into her mouth. They all ate in silence, apart from Nanna Warren’s little murmurs and mutterings, and when they were done, Queenie took their plates to the sink. “Frank, love, take Nanna into the front room.”

Frank set his paper down resignedly and lead the old woman into the hallway. “Beautiful boy, beautiful!” 

“Got plans for the day, Tom?” Queenie turned from the sink and fixed him with a watchful but friendly gaze.

“Find m’self a bed to sleep in and a shower. Reckon I’ve got a few apologies to make an’ all.”

“Mmm,” War had matured Queenie Warren too. She was still girlish and flirtatious, but she seemed to have realised her words had meaning and was making amends for her off-handed comments of old. “Bess is some woman-”

Tom laughed fondly. “Yeah,”

“- I could never put up with you.”

Perhaps not. “I’ll be off Queenie, thanks for letting me stay. Say ta-ra to Frank for me.”

“I won’t, I know you two don’t see eye to eye. Take care of yourself, give Bess a kiss from me.”

Tom shrugged on his jacket, pulled up the collar and made his way into the cold day. Apologies. Where to bloody start.

Each of the Vaughn girls was looking at their father with disgust.

He had come downstairs that morning reeking of ale and grease from the dockyard, sat in his armchair, let out an almighty belch and promptly dozed off. When Cora kicked him and shoved a plate of eggs under his nose, he took them with a scowl and ate in silence.

“Just one more bloody man to worry about,” Bess huffed from the kitchen table.

“Bugger off back to Carver Mills then,” Fergal snapped.

“Don’t you two start,” Cora slammed a fresh loaf of bread onto the table. “I’ve heard enough bloody bickering these last twelve hours to last a lifetime.”

“Watch your language-”

“Be quiet!” All three girls shouted at their father and he fixed them with an annoyed stare.

Breakfast was a solemn affair with Fergal fighting through his hangover, the girls’ lack of sleep and Bess’ additional worry over Tom. In truth, some of it had waned in the hours since she woke up. After hearing Tom’s idea of a woman’s purpose in this world, her worry had dwindled to a mild apprehension. When Dot came in from collecting the milk and told her the Mrs Mason’s eldest had seen Tom entering Queenie Warren’s Cringle Park home late last night, her mild apprehension became a fully borne rage.

Bess liked to think she trusted Tom to stay loyal to her. But something in his astoundingly arrogant display at the Palais gnawed at her confidence.  

“Got any towels, Cora?”

“Dot, for God’s sake, wash your own.”

“Bess?”

“One, in my handbag.”

Dot kissed her sister’s cheek and began rummaging through her bag. “I’ll wash it and give it back.”

“Keep it, I won’t want it back-”

“I don’t need to be hearing about your filthy woman talk-”

“Be quiet!” Each of the girls shouted again at their father. Bess watched as Dot disappeared upstairs. She had been carrying a towel with her everywhere, just in case. She always did of course, in the event of her monthlies, but her monthlies were now three weeks late and she had an appointment with Sister Murphy in a week’s time.

A knock at the front door made each Vaughn jump.

“That’ll be Dennis with the post,” Cora was already rounding the kitchen table, pulling her apron off as she did so. Bess was in no mood to see rat-faced Dennis Warley and the contemptuous looks he saved especially for her and her tailored slacks. She stood from the table, gave Fergal a wide berth and went upstairs to dress.

Stuff Dennis Warley and his shit taste. Bess pulled out a dark dress from the draw she still kept in her sisters’ room, covered it in a dark jumper and pulled on some thick woollen socks. Her hair, still curled from last night, she tied off her face with a scarf, the frizzy strands settling on her shoulders.

Lying back on the bed, she cradled her stomach. It was a little plump, thinner now because of rationing, but still soft and doughy. Bess rubbed circles over it, wondering what it would be like to feel it grow. In her need for him, and his for her, Bess and Tom had been reckless. But surely, it would have happened by now? When he found his way back to her after his months on the run in Europe, she was so certain in her need for him, her love for him, that a sheath didn’t matter. When he had returned this time, so hungry for her after discovering his father gone, hadn’t she welcomed him openly? Given herself over to him completely because that was what he needed? Perhaps this time, she had given too much. She’d seem him with Vera, and Jan, and not worried about the consequences. After last night, however, she was scared.

Downstairs, Cora and Dot’s voices raised in pitch and volume, and Bess looked up at the ceiling. A new crack had formed there. Trust Dennis to say something stupid.

Only it wasn’t Dennis Warley at all. Downstairs, Cora Vaughn was locked in a battle with none other than Tom Bennett.

“I wondered when you’d show up,”

“Cora, I-”

“Roger’s not here, so don’t worry-”

“I’m not worri-”

“You looked worried last night when he dumped you on the pavement.”

“Give over, Cora. Posh knob wouldn’t get his hands dirty. S’why he’s off flying planes and leaving us lot in the muck-”

“Don’t you start on Cora!” Dot pushed past her sister and jabbed a finger into Tom’s chest.

“He tried last night, Dot.”

“Oh he did, did he?” Fergal Vaughn stood from his chair by the hearth and made his slow way to the front door. “Give him a piece of your mind did you, my girl?”

“I did, Dadda.” Cora’s eyes were still set on Tom. Indeed, so were Fergal and Dot’s. “And Dot gave him a smack.”

“Save your energy next time, Dot. You could beat Tom Bennett into next year and he’d still come up with some sorry excuse-”

“Is Bess in?” Tom pinched his nose.

“Care about Bess now?”

“Shut up, Dot.”

Fergal lunged at him. Tom’s arms instinctively reached outwards. The two men stumbled into the cobbled street, each gripping the other’s collar. They grappled for a while, Fergal’s size and Tom’s athleticism preventing either from felling each other.

Hearing the commotion from upstairs, Bess hurried down the narrow stairs and into the street.

“WHAT IS GOING ON?”

The bundle of bodies stopped moving at once. Dot slid off Tom’s back. Fergal dropped his arms from Tom’s collar and Cora stumbled backwards from her attempt to restrain her father.

“Bess, love-”

“Look at yourselves.” Bess folded her arms. “A disgrace to mam’s memory. And Marie’s.” She pointed at Tom. “Get inside. The lot of you.”

Like a troupe of naughty children, Fergal, Cora, Dot and Tom filed into the house. No sooner had Bess slammed the door was she grabbing Tom’s wrist and pulling him into the yard. “I’ll deal with you lot later,” she said to her family, each stood sheepishly in the kitchen.

The autumn air was crisp outside. Dadda’s chickens were scraping at the earth and scurried forward when Bess turned over a bucket to perch upon. Seeing she had nothing to give them, they went about their business.

Tom watched Bess as she lit a cigarette and stared ahead. God, she was gorgeous. Sat there in the morning light, hair aflame, all haughty and tight-lipped. She was just as he always imagined her. When she turned her head ever so minutely to look at him from the corner of her, he winked.

“Don’t flirt with me.”

Tom raised his chin and straightened his back. He knew Bess loved his neck, and from her low position she would be able to see the perfect angle of his jaw. “It’s working then.”

By way of a reply, Bess blew smoke into his face. With a small smile, Tom crouched before her and took her empty hand in his.

“I’m sorry,”

Bess watched him, taking another drag of her cigarette.

“I-,oh fuck,” Tom stood up again and paced the small yard. Apologies. How the fuck do you apologise? Not as a way to wriggle out of trouble, but to truly make amends? Before he could start, Bess spoke first.

“I heard you and Dadda had a little chat.”

“Yeah-”

“And then you insulted Bobby. And my suit,”

“You looked gorgeous-”

Bess hmphed. “Then you made a scene-”

“Dot smacked me!”

“Not hard enough!” They glared at each other. “And after that, you had the bare-faced cheek to insult Cora and Roger. On their special night!”

“I know,” Tom deflated visibly in front of her and Bess’ heart melted a little. A little. “I’m sorry, I really am.”

“What for?”

Christ, Bess was breaking his balls. He sighed. “For fighting with your father, for ruining Cora’s night and for the awful things I said to you and Bobby.”

“And?”

“And what?” He was getting annoyed now.

“Didn’t think you liked Frank Smith.”

“I don’t. He’s a prick.”

“But you spent the rest of last night with him? Was Walter Watson there too? Bragging about how you got into my knickers? Or planning how the three of you could next embarrass me, as a joint effort?”

“No,”

“Anything else to add?”

“No?”

“Then think.”

Tom looked up, wracking his brains. Cora, Dot and Fergal were peering out of the window, transfixed by the goings on in the yard. Cora and Dot hastily withdrew from the window. Fergal continued to stare at Tom and Bess.

“Erm-”

“Where did you stay, last night? Only, I said you could come to ours but-” She let the sentence trail off.

Fuck.

Bess’ eyes had turned dark. She leant forward on her knees and casually flicked the ash from her cigarette. She was waiting. Had thrown down her gauntlet. The challenge? Daring Tom to make up an excuse, as he always did. Well, enough people had tried to outsmart him before. There was a reason he was so good at stealing car parts and had managed to wrangle his way out of jail. It wasn’t this, though, that made his blood boil. No, it was Bess’ lack of trust.

“Stayed at Queenie’s.” It was blunt. Tom wanted to embarrass her for trying to trip him up. It didn’t work.

“She finally got you in her bed then.”

“Yes, she did.” At Tom’s words, Bess blanched. A few tears pin-pricked her eyes and she looked like a child. Tom softened immediately. “She slept in the other room, with Frank. They’re courting, remember?”

“Yes.”

“Or had you conveniently forgotten so you could have a reason to be angry at me?”

“You managed that yourself.”

Silence.

Once more, Tom crouched in front of Bess. She had nowhere to look but at his sandy hair, that silly old jacket, those extraordinarily blue eyes. “I know I behaved like a fucking prick, but I’d never do that.” It was too horrible an idea to even voice. “Please, please, of all people, please trust me.”

Bess looked at him. The little crease between his brows. The world-weary, tired eyes. His lips, pursed with tension. She reached out and stroked his cheek. From the window, a small squeal sounded. Dot.

“I do. God help me, I do.”

The door opened abruptly. There was Cora, a crying Vera in her arms. She shoved the baby at Tom. “Make yourself useful.”

Tom scooped his niece into his arms, confusion evident on his face. “Why do you have her?” He began bobbing on the spot to soothe the crying babe and Bess felt he stomach clench. Her stomach, and something farther south.

“You haven’t told him?” Cora scowled at Bess and Tom looked between the sisters. As though she could sense him doing this, Bess turned from her sister to Tom.

“It’s fine,” she stood up and approached Tom and Vera, running a soothing hand over the baby’s brow. “She’s fine, Connie popped over with the baby this morning.” She took Tom’s hand. “Lois was injured in last night’s raid.”

“Oh fuck,” Tom’s legs wobbled and Bess made to cradled Vera. He found his footing, but fear was etched across his face. Day by day, his family was growing smaller.

“She’s ok, Tom, she’s ok. Hit her head but she’s at home. Well,” Bess swallowed awkwardly. Where was the Bennett home now? “She’s at Connie’s.”

“You best get over there, boy.”

“Cora,” Bess said warningly. With folded arms and a small tut, Cora turned on her heel and stalked back into the house. Bess rapped a knuckle on the window. Dot and Fergal hurried away from the glass.

“Take Vera,” Bess gripped Tom’s jacket and pulled it around the wee thing. “Go and see Lois and maybe, if I’m not still angry at you, I’ll see you at the flat?”

Tom looked down his nose at her, taking a step closer. Vera, nestled between the two, settled and was content to make small gurgles as she watched two of the people she loved most above her.

“You won’t be angry for long,” Tom’s lips were dangerously close to Bess’. Thank God Fergal wasn’t still at the window.

“Is that so?” Bess whispered, bringing her face close to his. Thank God the baby was between them. From here she could smell yesterday’s cologne, the slightest whiff of lager and his Marlboro’s. It was intoxicating. Damn Tom Bennett.

“I’ve seen the way you look at me, Bess Vaughn.” Tom gripped the front of Bess’ jumper and pulled her close. “The way you’ve always looked at me.”

Both were remembering the day Bess returned from the central Manchester, clad in white and turning heads everywhere she walked. Remembering the way she watched Tom as he stretched to fetch her a glass of wine.

Just as Tom made to kiss Bess’ plump lips, she pulled away. “I need to go. Meeting Kasia at Southport.”

Tom looked at her with mock bemusement. “Southport? This time of year?”

“Aye,” Bess kissed Vera’s mop of soft hair and straightened. “She needs a friend and I’ve decided to be that friend. It’s nice, she tells me all about how disappointing Harry is-” she looked Tom squarely in the eye. “- and I do the same about you.”

“Nothing disappointing about me, love.” Again, he winked and Bess felt herself blush.

“Get away with you. Go to Lois.”

“Yes, captain.” With Vera tucked against his chest, Tom made his way to the gate into the ginnel. He saluted to Dot and Cora, who were once more watching from the kitchen, and opened the latch. A small hand wrapped around his wrist, and before he could fully turn around, Bess’ warm lips met is.

“I love you.”

“I know,” she smacked his arm. “I love you.”

Bess closed the gate behind him and listened as made his way down the ginnel, cooing to Vera all the way. When she turned around, the back-room curtain rustled. No doubt Cora and Dot would have plenty to say.

Vera was asleep by the time Tom made it to Connie’s small flat. He knocked on the door and was welcomed by the one-legged young man he had met just a few days before.

“She yours?” He used his walking stick to point at Vera.

“No. She’s Lois’. From upstairs?”

“Oh right. Yeah. Heard your sister took a knock in the raid last night.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m here.”

“Lucky really. Or unlucky, depending on how you look at it.”

“Unlucky, how?” Tom’s anger prickled.

“You’re in the war, mate. Don’t tell me you haven’t seen men blown to pieces somehow still clinging on to life-” He knocked is fake leg with his cane. “Better sometimes that the war finish us off, rather than making us linger in this living hell.”

“Can I see Lois, mate?”

The strange man shuffled aside and, cradling Vera close to his chest, Tom ran up the stairs to Connie’s flat two steps at a time. The door was open when he got there. Connie sat at the small table, making notes on some sheet music. She looked up at hearing the floorboards creak as Tom approached, and silently waved him in.

“She’s in my room,” she whispered. “Been sleeping most of the day but I heard her get up not long ago.”

“Cheers, Con,” Tom made towards the bedroom door but Connie stepped in front of him.

“Give Vera here,” she held out her hands and Tom tentatively let his niece go.

“Won’t Lois won’t to-”

“Best if it’s just you, I think, love. Will be alright, won’t we?” Connie cooed at Vera as she babbled happily.

The small room that Lois shared with Connie was dark. The dirty curtains were drawn and piles of baby clothes littered the cupboard. Fresh and folded, but left out of the drawer. The bed creaked and from beneath the tattered blanket, Tom’s sister appeared.

Her head was wrapped in a large bandage, the kind that Tom would give her when they played hospital as children. Her curly hair poked awkwardly from the bottom and did little to hide the black bruises beneath her eyes.

“What the fuck happened?” Tom perched on the end of the bed.

“You got any cigarettes?” Her voice was hoarse.

“Always,” he grabbed the packet from his trousers, lit one and passed it to his sister. “Since when do you smoke?”

“Since this morning.” Lois coughed through the smoke and relaxed against the iron headboard.

“So,” Tom nudged her leg gently but spoke firmly. Despite their argument, he was still her brother. “What happened?”

“Was getting an old fella from a house last night, it had been hit in the raids.” She shuffled uncomfortably. “And yeah, the ceiling came down on my head.”

“Only ‘cause you went back in to get his bloody teeth!” Connie walked past the door with Vera on her lap.

“Dad’s spirit is living on then,” Tom whispered under his breath.

“Oh for God’s sake, Tom!” Lois tried to get up from the bed but Tom was still sat on the covers. “I’m really not in the mood to be shouted at about dad. Again-”

Tom swore under his breath. “Lois! I know you think I’m a wind up but I meant it as a fucking compliment. Going back in to make sure that old lad was comfortable is exactly what Dad would have done.”

They sat there awkwardly for a moment and watched the cigarette dwindle into nothingness. When it was done, Lois covered Tom’s hand with hers.

“Thanks for coming,” she whispered quietly.

“I’d be a twat not to. Wish you’d called.”

“Where would I call?”

Tom huffed a sad laugh. There was no happiness to it at all. “The Vaughns?”

“From what I hear, you’re not very popular in their house.”

“Jesus Christ,”

“Connie told me after she dropped Vera off this morning.”

“I’ve already been round. Apologised.”

“Ooh, I suddenly got a chill,” Lois huddled under the covers. “It seems hell has frozen over.” Tom smacked her leg. “Don’t hurt me, I’m ill!”

“Doesn’t count when it’s self-induced.”

“How did it go? Your apology? Charm your way out through the back door?”

“I see you’ve still got no faith in me,”

It was Lois that nudged Tom this time. “Don’t be daft.” Tom didn’t reply, simply stared at the watch on his wrist. The battery had stopped, its hands pointing to 6.04. “Be more like dad.”

“You what?” Tom glanced at her. She looked ridiculous with that enormous bandage wrapped round her head, and in his eyes she seemed just as tired as he was, but her annoying I-know-something-you-don’t attitude remained.

“Actions, not words. That’s the best way to say sorry. To really say sorry. Something Harry could never manage…” Lois’ voiced trailed off but, when Tom laughed, she looked at him sharply.

“Bess is off to see Kasia this afternoon. Said something about slagging me an’ Harry off.”

“I could give them some fodder!”

Tom laughed, without bitterness, for what felt like the first time in years. “You should join them.”

“Can’t,” Lois sighed resignedly and looked around the tatty room. “Too much to do.” Dirty napkins and baby toys were scattered around the place. The laundry basket was overflowing. A plate of half-eaten toast was forgotten by the bed. With hands on his knees and head bent, Tom pushed himself from the bed and began sorting the clothes.

“What you doing?” Lois was standing now, wrapping herself in a dressing gown and making her way towards the small room where Connie was singing to Vera.

Tom looked over his shoulder at his sister and winked. “Actions, not words.”

An old gentleman and the woman tucked into his side scowled at Kasia and Bess as they ran past.

The young women’s shrieks took flight in the sky and carried across the flat beach. The tide was way out, a few algaed rocks just showing beneath the lapping waves. In the miniature tidal pools, Bess and Kasia stomped, kicked salty water at each other and ran away from the waves. It had been so long since Bess felt this carefree. For Kasia, even longer.

“Robina will kill me,” Kasia gasped between giggles as she wiped sand from her grey skirt.

“The sooner I get those trousers finished the better.” Bess huffed as she slung her arm around Kasia’s neck, and together they walked the long stretch back up the beach. In the distance, the old couple kept glancing back at them as they made their way to the promenade. Ahead of them, a solitary figure was making its way towards the water. Probably one of the clam fishers, thought Bess.

“Do you know,” Kasia said, looping her arm through Bess’. “I don’t think I ever saw Harry laugh like that. Not really.”

“Me neither. Saw him grin once when his private school lads beat the St Thomas’ team at cricket.”

Kasia exaggerated a frown and pouted her lips. “So. Serious.”

Bess laughed. “Our Tom doesn’t have a serious bone in his body. Perhaps we should swap!”

At this, Kasia fell about. “Poor Vera wouldn’t know who is who.” The pair cackled and cackled until Bess could do naught but gulp for air.

“I like to think Tom’s changed,” Bess laughed. “But I know he’d swap with Harry just to wind up Mrs Chase.”

“Brought you girls some dinner.” Over Kasia’s renewed giggles, Bess almost missed the voice behind her. She span around quickly and lost her footing in the wet sand. As quickly as she did, Tom heaved the paper bundles under one arm and gripped Bess’ with his free hand.

He’d washed since Bess saw him that morning, though he was still pale and tired looking. Over the top of his blue jacket, he wore a woollen coat of Albie’s, and Bess smiled sadly as she ran her hand over the lapels.

“Thanks, love.” She kissed his cheek. Behind her, Kasia was tucking her hair behind her ears and smoothing her clothes.

“Alright, Kasia?” Tom nodded at her and held out one of the paper bundles. As it passed Bess, she caught the delicious whiff of vinegar. Fish and chips.

“Yes, thank you.” Kasia smiled and took the food from him.

“Bess.” Tom handed his girlfriend her portion before turning back to Kasia and clearing his throat. “How are your brothers?” Bess saw him puff out his chest, an attempt at nonchalance. His eyes were worried though, downcast, as he tucked into his chips.

“They’re well, thank you. Jan is missing his play friend though.”

Tom smiled. “Well, anytime he wants to play footie just let us know.” He faltered and Bess held on gently to the sleeve of Albie’s coat, to remind him she was there. “And Grzegorz?”

“He’s managing. Vernon and Roger got him a job at the RAF base.”

“Was a good man, Vernon.” Tom said, and the three fell into a solemn silence, punctuated by the call of gulls and rustling of newspaper.

When they had each finished their food, Kasia collected the scraps and bid goodbye to Bess with a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you soon?”

“Stay a while longer, there’s no need to leave ‘cause of Tom.”

“That’s alright,” Kasia smiled at Tom, who looked a little stung. “It’s a lovely evening. You two enjoy your walk.”

Not leaving Bess to reply, Kasia left for the promenade. Tom made for the other direction, towards the sea. Bess watched Kasia go before trotting after Tom. His hands were tucked into his pockets and she looped her arm through his. He let go, instead bringing his arm about her shoulders so that she was tucked into his side.

He smelled of cigarettes and that laundry detergent that always reminded Bess of Douglas. There was something of Albie too that lingered on the coat. That cheap cologne he used to wear when they went out dancing. Bess chuckled and Tom looked down at her.

“Thinking of Albie,” she said simply. “And your dad.”

“Mmm,” Tom pushed Bess near the waves as they approached the water and she shrieked. He laughed and grabbed her around the waist. “Had to do it. ‘S what Albie would have done if he was here.”

“Yeah. Remember all the family trips we used to have down here when mam and dad wanted to wear us down?”

Tom rested his head atop Bess’ and they watched the water turn orange as the sun lowered behind them. They didn’t talk awhile, content in each other’s company and thinking of the past, but something in Tom silence told Bess he wasn’t happy. He was almost rigid behind her, his usual relaxed swagger gone. Tentatively, she inquired about the afternoon.

“How’s Lois?”

Tom almost jumped at her voice. “Fine, yeah, fine. Was rescuing some old man’s teeth when the house came down.”

“Douglas’ll never be gone.”

“That’s what I said.” He said nothing else.

Bess turned in his arms and looked up at him. “Where are you, mister?” She ran a hand through his hair. It needed a cut before he went back, surely it was too long for navy regulations now.

“What do you mean?”

“What are you thinking about?” He finally took his eyes off the ocean and looked down at her. Bess shivered. His eyes were stony and distant. The wind ruffled his hair and for a moment he looked like Gary Cooper or Spencer Tracy. “You’re so handsome.”

Tom ignored her. “’I’d like to think Tom’s changed.’”

Bess’ cheeks prickled with embarrassment. “Pardon?”

“’I’d like to think Tom’s changed, but I know he’d swap with Harry just to wind up Mrs Chase.’” He quoted again.

“We were only mucking around-”

“I know you said you and Kasia would have a giggle at me an’ Harry’s expense,” Tom was looking back at the water and not Bess. “But I thought at least you’d have a higher opinion of me.”

Bess’ lip trembled and she ran her hand through Tom’s hair again. “You know I think the world of you-”

“I saw the way you looked at me last night. The way your father looked at me. You all still think I’m exactly the same as before, don’t you? Just a petty criminal with nothing to give.”

“Where the hell has this come from?” Bess sadness was making way for anger now.

“Bess, I’ve come back to find my dad dead, my home gone and what do I get? Bloody,” he waved his hands angrily, struggling for the word. “judgement and dirty looks.”

“No-one’s judging you-”

“’I’d like to think Tom’s changed’,” Tom began to quote Bess once more but she cut him off.

“Well, I’d like to think you have changed but your behaviour last night proves my point. Getting drunk, fighting, staying at Queenie’s-”

“Jesus Christ. NOTHING HAPPENED!”

They stared at each other.

“Why do we keep arguing?” Bess said sadly.

Tom kicked a shell and made his slow way along the tide line. “I don’t know,” he sighed, rubbing his face.

Walking beside him, Bess thought that, in truth, she did know. They were opposites. Where her grief was quiet and slow-burning, Tom’s was sudden and raging and, as it shrouded them both, neither knew how to help the other.

“Did you and Lois chat much about your dad?” She didn’t know what else to say, and maybe talking of Douglas would ease Tom’s grief.

“Not really.” Never mind.

“Please Tom,” Bess clutched his arm stopped him in his tracks. “You can’t just shut down and never talk about it.”

“It’s what you would do.”

She stared at him. Fine. If he wanted to be difficult, she could do it too. “You’re not the only one who misses him, Tom. He was my friend-”

“He was my dad!” Tom bellowed. “I suppose you wouldn’t have minded a swap with him either. Harry, my dad, anyone’s better than me-”

“Oh stop being so fucking put down upon. You’re using this as some stupid excuse not to confront your grief. The war. If you don’t want to talk to me about it, fine, I can’t know what it’s like out there. But I’ve lost people too, and, and-” Bess stomped her foot like a child. “And I love you. I want to help.”

“How could you possibly help?” Tom sounded resigned rather than angry, but nonetheless, it felt as though he had struck her.

“I-I-I’m trying to do my bit, for you. For the war effo-”

“Patching up cuts and scratches? Fixing holes in soldiers’ socks?”

“I was under the impression,” Bess snapped and wiped a tear from her face. “That that is exactly what you think I should be doing.”

Tom shook his head. Actually shook his head in confusion. “What the hell do you mean, woman?”

“Woman! Exactly! Heard all about your argument with Lois,”

“Fucking Dot-”

“Yes. Dot. Connie told her that you blamed her for your dad’s death-”

“I apologised-”

“-that her job was being at home looking after him and the baby. Is that what you think? That that’s all we’re good for?” “This is all you’re good for, Bess Vaughn.” “You know that’s what Walter Watson said to me? That night? Do you agree with him?”

“No-” Tom took a step forward but Bess stepped back.

“Well?”

“WELL WHAT?”

Bess held her stomach. Tom didn’t notice. “Do you think our role s just that? Give you children and then while away our lives at home, mothering you all?”

“It’d be a damn sight more peaceful than whatever the fuck this is!”

Neither of them was listening to the other, just shouting over the top of whatever they had said last.

“Cos you know, you’ve barely said one word to me that isn’t “bend over” or “come here” since you got back-”

“Now I know why no-one would come near you-”

Bess stopped shouting. So did Tom.

“Fuck you.” Bess turned on her heel and marched towards the promenade.

“Where are you going?” With his long legs, it was easy for Tom to catch up, even if he was so tired.

“Home.” Tom still walked beside her and she found his very presence so close angered her. “Go away.”  

“Unfortunately for you, love, we live in the same place.”

They walked in stony silence towards the run-down bus stop, Tom a few steps behind to give Bess space. They perched at opposite ends of the bench and, when the bus arrived, were dismayed to see it full. Squeezed together on the leather seats as the bus rattled back to Manchester, Bess stared out of the window. Tom did too, glancing down occasionally to look at her. The exposed line of her neck. Her lips set into an angry pout. The place at which their shoulders touched burned and he wanted nothing more than to be even closer to her. He leant his head down, and light as baby’s breath, kissed her below her ear.

The skin of Bess’ neck rippled with goosebumps and Tom smiled a satisfied smile. When she turned her head to him, she didn’t meet his eyes, nor speak. She simply brushed her nose against his cheek, her lips grazing the morning’s stubble, and turned back to the window. It was as if to say, I’m still angry at you, but I love you, and at that very moment in time, that was enough for Tom.

The sun had set by the time the bus rumbled into Manchester. Air-raid wardens were already out on shift, their small torches replacing the streetlamps that would give the city away to enemy airplanes.

Bess made in the direction of Carver Mills when she stepped off the bus, but faltered when she realised Tom wasn’t beside her. Instead, he was stood at the bus stop, hands in his pockets.

“Gonna check on Lois. And the baby,” he said, answering her questioning gaze.

“And then?” Bess didn’t need to elaborate. They both knew she was alluding to his new found homelessness. Tom shrugged. “Dadda will still have you. You’re a bloody pair, the both of you, but he won’t have you on the street. And if,” she took a step closer and pulled Tom’s coat lapels around his neck to keep him warm. “-if Dadda won’t have you, I suppose I’ll have to.” She stretched up to peck his lips.

“Yes, captain.”

BANG

Bess shot up in bed and flicked on the lamp. A pair of study nurse’s shoes were forever positioned by her bed, and a jumper and coat were slung over the bedframe in case of this very moment. The bombs.

“Shit, fuck, I’m sorry.” Tom was stumbling through Bess’ bedroom window, his back leg caught on the frame. “Forgot about the blackouts.” He hastily replaced them in the window with a lopsided grin. No sooner were they in place was he peeling off his jumper and slacks.

Bess rubbed her eyes. Despite her sleep-filled haze and her lingering annoyance at the man before her, she could still appreciate the lean muscle of his pale torso that had only strengthened in his days in the navy. A light sheen of sweat clung to his smattering of chest hair, and his breath was laboured.

“Did you-” Bess budged up in the bed so that he could climb in beside her. “Did you climb up the building?”

“Why so shocked-” Tom nestled beside her.

“Your feet are freezing,”

“Used to climb through your bedroom window all the time,”

“Yes, but it wasn’t on the fifth floor.”

“Ah,” Tom said nonchalantly, leaning back against the bedframe. “Anything for you love, and a place to lay my head.”

Bess hmphed but curled her body against Tom’s. One large hand came to her waist and rubbed lazy circles there. It was a while before either of them spoke. It was in these moments over the last year that both Bess and Tom had learnt to enjoy their simplicity. Tom may not return from his next posting. A bomb could land on the roof at any moment. To lay there, with someone you loved so completely, really was the simplest and most divine miracle.

“’M off to the docks tomorrow,” Tom whispered into Bess’ hair. “To collect my papers.”

“So soon?” Bess pushed herself to sit and face him, her voice wobbling as it betrayed her worry.

“I can’t stay,” Tom pulled her back to his chest. “As much as I want hide here with you. You said it earlier, I need to stop running from everyone. From everything.” He rubbed his eyes and sighed. From her bedside table, Bess pulled a packet of cigarettes and lit one, placing it between Tom’s lips when she’d taken her first drag. Tom winked at her. “’S like sitting on the front step again.” He paused. “No. I think the only way for me to work out what I’m doing, who I am, is to get back out there. The open sea, the purpose. You an’ dad were right. The navy is the making of me.”

“Take me with you,” Bess gripped his small waist all the tighter and buried her face in his chest.

“No chance. Not letting you loose with a load of sailors.”

“I can look after myself-”

“Exactly. It’s them I worry about.” Tom pinched Bess’ plump hips and she squealed. The sound, so unlike any Bess would ever usually make delighted Tom, and he did it again, tickling every bare patch of skin he could reach until Bess was on her back, writhing to get away from him as he penned her in with his arms.

She was panting when he finished, and her giggles took a while to subside. Red blotched her cheeks and her dark eyes were bright with laughter. The mess of her hair was unrulier than ever, tangled on the pillow. Below his hips, her nightdress had ridden up her thighs, the curve of her breasts just visible through the thin fabric.

Tom shut his eyes, committing her image to memory. “I’m sorry about earlier. About everything,” he whispered.

“I know,” Bess ran a hand through his hair and he stooped to kiss her.

“I’m sorry,” he kissed the juncture of her neck. “I’m sorry,” Nipped at the underside of her jaw. “I’m sorry,” his tongue ran languidly over her lips. A throaty moan left Bess and Tom lowered his hips between the spread of her legs. “I’m sorry,” he kissed his way over her chest. “I’m sorry,” lightly bit each pert nipple through the fabric.

“Tom, please-”

“I love you,” Tom kissed her stomach.

A jolt of fear gripped her. What if? “Tom, please-” It was said with hesitation then, but it died in her throat when his head dipped lower. Warm hands slid around the underside of her thighs and gripped her hips.

“I’m sorry,” his warm breath fanned across her core. “I’m sorry,” he murmured, voice muted as he brought his mouth to her centre. “I’m sorry.”

Notes: I’m sorry it’s been ages. Life, ya know? This will have a happy ending!!

Tags: @aemonds-wifey @multiple-fandoms-girl @jessssica1234 @babyblue711 @heimtathurs @exitpursuedbyavulcan @myfandomprompts @allthefandomtherapy @reblogedworks @valerie977 @bookwyrmsblog @phantomontheinternet @chainsawsangel @greenowlfactif @thelittleswanao3 @yentroucnagol @beiigegalx @adragonprinceswhore @notasockpuppetaccount @houseofdupree @marysucks-blog @chattylurker @vhagar-balerion-meraxes @nolongereviliwantlove @just-emmaaaa @mefools @aquakaris @its-actually-minicika @whoknows333 @arcielee @honeymaltgelato @girlwith-thepearlearring @fangirlninja67 @evita-shelby @cherievictoria @schmexie @ewanmitchellcrumbs @blairfox04 @theoneeyedprince @targaryenrealnessdarling @cherievictore

[freebooter4ever]

ok slow day on the blog so im about to get all soppy and artsy. Because a) this man drives me insane and i continously try to figure out why slash justify it to myself and b) i am so obsessed right now with that one leg muscle that kinda goes flat when you sit but also is a key part of how to structure the leg when drawing. Blah blah blah hockey butts yeah great but what if... hockey inner thigh....

Ughhhhhhh kill me now.

Anyway im gonna adress a trend i have noticed in the pens fandom mostly displayed through passive aggression towards me or other creators...and that's the use of references. There seems to be this idea that using references is lazy or cheating or means that this person isn't making 'real' art. And im gonna call some bullshit. Every single artist since someone decided to paint their hand and try to recreate a cow on a cave wall with their thumb has used references. Talk to real commercial artists and they use WAY more references than you can imagine. My current job is super stylized and unique. But back when i worked in hyper realism on C*ll of Dooty and superheroes and stuff? Never not once did the illustrators not utilize references. Often us 3D artists were given a photo with a posed actor, which we used to pose the 3D model, which then was illustrated on top of directly by the illustrator. Those artists had to churn out hundreds of illustrations a month. They did not have time to get precious about it.

And lets talk about 'sourcing'. Yes, if you copy a photo directly almost pixel for pixel an artist should probably reveal their source. But so rarely is this the case. If you put any kind of spin on it - your own style, change the colors, add or subtract the background - that is YOUR art and there is no need to link to or include the damn 'source'. It's not a 'source' at that point. That would be like asking the amazing folks who photoshop artistic 'edits' together using photos and brushes to link to the original photos at the bottom of all their posts. This is just silly.

You want to know what commercial artists did before the internet? My old friend here has a studio from the 70s-2000s that has an entire wall full of neatly organized stacked drawers of printed references, a lot of it clipped from magazines and books. Each of them labeled by subject matter. And this artist worked in some of the most famous advertizing studios during that era.

So, coming back around to hockey thighs, because I know there are certain folks in the pe*ns fandom that get annoyed and angry at my daily drawings (which is so sad by the way, get a life). I have to admit this is the first time this has ever happened in a fandom so it threw me for a loop. But I also know there are younger artists out there who follow me so I want to explain my process a little. Most of my daily doodles are studies - its one of the reasons its been easier to do them during my illness than any more serious creative work. When i doodle i am looking at references and trying to recreate that as i see it. The key point being 'as i see it'. I am usually trying to learn things like: in this photo what about the lighting is compelling, and how can i make it more so? Or what is the focus of the drawing and how can i let the rest of it fade? Or whats the main gesture and how do i exaggerate that? And always, always im trying to study anatomy from new angles. For me its not enough to learn what a 'knee' looks like because the shape of the knee and the muscles around it change depending on how it's posed. And it is often those changes that make it so beautiful. Or in this case that beautiful sexy stretch of thigh between geno's knee and groin.

Often times if i imagine a 'pose' in my head, i will then go pull as many references as i can where the body's limbs are roughly arranged how i want it and then draw those over and over until i feel like i have enough of a grasp on that anatomy to recreate it for myself. So please, dont listen to the haters, use those references or dont use them freely. the haters are idiots who are projecting their own fear of inadequacy and learning to be creative onto you. <3

In my next essay i will discuss how baffled and humbled i am by the way my love for geno's face has utterly transformed my artistic eye...

[ereyies]

i love your of mice and men oc. let me tell you i was scrolling thru the omam tag after reading that book for class because GOSH that ending destroyed me. bronwyn is so cute!!! and i love the ideas you have for her character and how she’d add onto the book. is there any more of your character that u thought of?? i’d love it hear it! ur art is stunning btw!!!

artists and writers are the backbone of dead fandoms. but i dont know if you could even call this fandom dead cuz i dont think it even had a life 💀

THANK YOU SO INCREDIBLY MUCH!!

this means the entire world to me you have no idea just how touched i am that you love my oc 💖 💖!! be VERY careful going through the of mice and men tag because unfortunately there are a LOT of nsfw bots!!

as for anything else relating to Bronwyn and her character, I don't have much else written/in mind other than that I have already shared other than maybe two things (copied and pasted from a document i made just to keep track of her lore):

Candy and Bronwyn probably wouldn't be close despite Candy having worked at the ranch for years. Not because of anything bad that happened between them, however I imagine that Candy was initially the main contributor to all the gossip said about her on the ranch and later on he learned she wasn't a bad person at all and just a lonely ill child, but by that point he had both immortalised her as a legend but condemned her from ever making real connections with people again. Knowing what he started and how he unintentionally isolated her and prevented her from being easily able to make friends with people on the ranch, the guilt would probably prevent him from forming any close connections with her.

I feel like if she were actually a character within the novel, her presence within the story would be similar to Andrey Bolkonsky in the musical Natasha, Pierre, & the Great Comet of 1812 (brilliant but strange musical btw, if you're interested in musicals it's definitely worth a listen!!). She is this looming presence amongst all the characters, always being mentioned in passing during conversation, this figure that everyone is aware of yet never sees, never actually being present in person up until the very end.

Candy would probably be the reader's introduction to Bronwyn, since Candy is a known gossiper. She'd be this influence in the story but is never truly there. I'm not too sure how she'd be important if that were the case though? Perhaps she'd be a figure symbolic of a 'point of no return' for all the characters. They all have a dream that isn't totally impossible which they come very close to achieving, and could very well leave their situation, but Bronwyn never had a chance and can never truly escape, locked up just to be forgotten about. Maybe she'd be a warning of the terrible fate which Lennie would have faced if he had lived and been institutionalised.

ANYWAYS moving past all of that; i have only made very few drawings of Bronwyn since my last post talking about her (admittedly due to extreme art block). But I’ve mostly been brainstorming about Curley and Bronwyn, the similarities and differences between them, mostly differences. Here is some of my recent art:

I always love experimenting and playing around with my style, trying out new brushes, techniques and colours <33 The last isn’t exactly my favourite mostly because i was just getting a feel for how to draw Curley and had little to no references for the pose and so it looks a little stiff. But!! I made many notes for my ideas while I was doing the sketch:

Thank you once more for your ask!! It means the world to me <33 I was so embarrassed when I first made her and feared being called ‘cringe’ or that people wouldn’t like her or something else along those lines, but the reception so far has been nothing but positive and encouraging!! I definitely plan to make more art and potentially even write some short fanfics including her in the future!!

oh one final thing, i also made a spotify playlist for her!! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0qrBhwqopc6KrC7RouFxOZ?si=GPudTv12S92QwBBXqxw0Bg&pi=khdpmOzjTfeQP

Thank you once more for being so kind <33 I hope you have the most wonderful day/evening/night!!

[freementallyillkid]

Toddler Hc

jinx x reader

Word count: 680

Sorry it’s kinda short. I wasn't feeling this prompt for some reason :/ hope you like it at least a little

-100% tricked when your toddler was a baby, they pretty quiet and went to bed without too much of a fuss

-Apparently they were just saving all their energy for when they hit year 2

-Very much like jinx in the good but slightly tiering way very artistic (though you struggle to figure out what they’re drawing) and always running around jumping off of something (which stresses the both you out to no end)

-VERY early on you realized how no toddler proof jinx’s lab is, which might seem obvious but when the both of you spent 90% of your time there you forget that the treasure chest of explosive is completely in reach for toddlers

-timeskip to 2 days later you’ve finished baby proofing it (probably) after that one you both really started to realize how stressful it is to much sure your kid is safe, not even in Jinx’s lab just living in the undercity

-This leads the both of you to become very protective of them (even more than before if it’s even possible) they will NEVER be allowed in the last drops bar no matter how old they are, any new staff will be going through teens stalking someone on the internet level background checks.

-Toddler is also 100% spoiled neither you or Jinx grew up with a lot so the baby will have anything they could want (maybe your both using it as a way to heal your inner child) + with silco king pen of the undercity they have the ultimate protection and spoil-y grandpa

-jinx makes HUNDREDS of little toys and crap for them

-on the more angsty side it was a real struggle to find a way for Jinx to be around as much as she wants to be with her episodes, she is prone to be way more reactive and violent

-Another thing that the both of you noticed pretty early on thankfully, you came up with a system just a random word or phrase maybe a noise to let you know when she could feel any kind of episode coming on and when she was already in one it was pretty obvious so you could take toddler somewhere/with someone safe so you could tend to Jinx

-This of course lead to you pretty often finding Jinx crying about how she was a ‘terrible mom’ you would always hold her and tell her how it wasn’t her fault and how being parent was going to be a wildly different experience for someone with mental illness

-and of course she does the same thing for you if you ever feel like you’ve failed as a parent in some way

-Jinx she wasn’t really old enough to remember much of her bio parents and even though Vander was a good father she didn’t get to be around him for very long and Silco isn’t really the best role model for what to be as a parent and if the you didn’t have a great parent you both feel like your not prepared to be parents

-not really knowing what should really be considered right or wrong while still wanting to let your kid know they do what they need to in order to protect themselves +when the hell do you even have that talk with your 2 year old??

-Jinx also being depressed about how your kid will never know their aunt, uncles or grandma and grandpas thinking it’s her fault

-She tries to find pictures of them and is only partly successful so she draws pictures of them too

-Being a parent in general is so hard already with tantrums, getting a toddler to sleep, feeding them, entertaining them, education (is there even a proper education system in the Undercity???), making sure they feel safe and loved.

-But all that in the first place but that as first time parents living in the undercity with at least one mentally ill parent???

-In the end no matter how tired ya’ll are you both love your toddler more than anything in the world and would commit multiple war crimes for them

—-------------------------------

[callibones]

hello!!! 🩸🟪 again. sorry for asking so early in the morning--i know you said you timed your last poast so i would see it so i feel bad for changing my hours but i had some extra free time. in the future you don't have to time your responses if you dont wanna. i peruse your blog at least once a week or so so ill probably find things ! and i dont wanna bother you first thing, thank you SO MUCH for that injoke guide! i'm like lvl 500 autistic so i had trouble figuring them out naturally. this makes things sm easier.

second thing... you have a bill cipher fictive? that's inch resting. i think i might also be plural too but i'm kinda off and on about it. but when u said that i looked back at the post they made and it was tagged with a #👁️? and then i looked at your other posts and there's a few tagged with a #👑. and your posts are usually tagged with #callie.txt.exe. so i thought hm. so i don't make any mistakes--what's your bill cipher fictive's name? how many people are there? is callie around the majority of the time? this is probably invasive so you don't need to respond to any of this JKHJBGVFCDXRCFGVHBJKNHBGVFCDXCGHBJKNHJBGVFCDGFVHBJ. also ive definitely Won and have obtained zero shelled feelings ever absolutely.

third. I LOVED OIL AND WATER!!! thank you sm. i haven't finished reading through all the other fics you reblogged though so when i do ill send you my thoughts on all of them in a different ask. you are so Based but not in a weird way in like a cool awesome way. fourth. i.. do rlly wanna dm you but my main thing is that i kind of Lost access to my main account a bit ago? idk how i was just stupid and Forgor

so ive been slowly trying to rebuild it on this new one. problem is, it's not Done yet. i'm worried im going to dm you and it will be Incomplete and you will forever perceive me as a Flawed, Unfinished version of myself. it would simply tarnish the wonderful 🩸🟪 brand, you know?

so i think.. if i do dm you, it'll be in a little while. i'll probably create a dedicated sideblog for the occasion when i do, ok? i do wanna hear you yap in a more controlled environment.

last thing i swear. so this actually has NOTHING to do with anything else you said but im like freaking out. so i checked your youtube channel and i noticed your description.

television for a head.

this is cool and all and your sona is SO AWESOME but this also Sucks for me because this ENTIRE TIME i've been drawing you as a computer! i have so much callibones fanart of you as a fucking desktop where it's like nested so your monitor has a little desktop assistant that is also you and it goes on forever and ever and ever with even smaller callies and that idea was WRONG!! i shouldve known from the antennae but i thought that was a bug thing not a tv thing (which, by the way, excellent choice on your part. when i'm not an assembly of shapes, i do enjoy being an insect.) but i was a FOOL!!!

so this makes me realize hey wait what else am i getting wrong? this thing is colored differently in this image than all the other images. what's the correct thing to do? and i came to the conclusion that i need to just ASK YOU! (wow who could've guessed. you're so smart.) yeah! i am! the smartest in the whole world even

if you happen to have any, i need reference sheets of your sona. if you have reference sheets of the alternate variants (or are those headmates? i saw one was called calliope and i think there was a bill cipher one so is that the fictive? i don't know but i want to draw them) those would be appreciated too. i have made a grave error and i must resolve it immediately.

with that. um. thank you for humoring me, id like to thank all our sponsors for getting me to write this ask, i will join the discord servers and message you one day because i am Not Afraid of Anything in the Whole Wide World. toodles

HELLO 🩸🟪! hope i didnt keep you waiting too long.... wanted to finish my ref first! PLUS i got a whoooole buncha busy goin on so im SUPER occupied.... but now i got time just for YOU! i definitely didnt time this one im just postin it now that i Can.... but im sure you can use the tag and your weekly browsing skills to find your way back here. hehehehe.

SECOND: very observant! yes, while we haven't made an official post for it, calliope uses the crown emoji and calcifer uses the eye emoji! that's his name, by the way. in fact, here's the whole gang, labeled with NAMES & PRONOUNS!

("who the fuck" is me, sorry. hehehehe.) (putting the id on this one out here so its easier. from left to right, you got:

the commissariat (she/they) in red, in a fancy longcoat with a jacket makin a serious pose

me, callie (it/fae/she) in green, in my usual "have a rotten day" top that shows my bra a lil and my short skirt

calliope (she/thon) in purple, wearing thons over-the-top storm supervillain dress

calcifer (he/she/it/they and it insisted on including "calcifae/calcifaer" as well) in yellow, with a suit, a shorter skirt than mine, a sword, and the bill cipher triangle-eye pose

and callyris (she/it) in pink, with short-shorts and a crop top fully showin its maintenance panel.

i'm around the majority of the time, but there's five of us includin' me and Calcifer! he's more than just bill cipher, btw. he's he/him lesbian bill cipher! hehehehe. he's also like genuinely growing as a person and i'm REALLY proud of him. also it's okay i have shelled one feelings too. calcifer says you're probably pretty easy to take advantage of and should call her.

THIRD: YAY! cedardivine, who made that peanutiel story, JUST made a separate post the other day with all thons blaseball writing. so GO CHECK THAT OUT! i sure plan to. :-D

FOURTH: cmon you dont gotta brand. EVERYONES flawed and unfinished! including me! im fucked upppp dont put me on a pedestal. im incomplete too!!!!

FIFTH HERES MY REF!!!! i made it just for you (genuinely!) so you GOTTA show me your fanart now because omg? omg???? omg???????? you made fanart of me? sobbing and crying??

also youre KINDA right about the desktop assistant thing! i fuckin love the nestedness so much and theres definitely some stuff where i imply that! but thats because.... so the actual sona is a desktop assistant virus thing. but fae takes on the appearance of a tv-head bot! so when fae's in The Real World fae uses a Made Physical version of that same cartoony self to walk around in. and on that robot's an OS running... the actual desktop assistant! so while it's not infinitely nested, you're right that my reality is Layered. i wonder if it could go deeper than that....

theres not a lotta art of the others YET but heres SOME FUCKIN AWESOME ART MY WONDERFUL FRIEND OF RIGORMARCY DREW OF THON so lookat that.

and here's calcifer's never-before-posted discord pfp, just for you:

calcifer sez: THERE'S MY CARD! GIMME A RING IF YOU'RE LOOKING FOR A NEW DEITY TO CHAT UP. THE SHELLED ONE MAY BE DEAD, BUT I'M AROUND FOREVER! FOREVER.

so. do what you will with this information.

IN CONCLUSION please send me your fanart if you wanna and feel like it because thats SO AWESOME that you made some... literally misty eyed.... ill look forward to your next correspondence whether i know you as 🩸🟪 or as whatever your name is on whatever platform you wanna reach me with! feel free to shoot me a friend request on discord if tumblr aint workin for ya. tell em 🩸🟪 sent ya! because that's you. and you can send you. But not in the mail, unfortunately. 1984.

UNTIL NEXT TIME GOOBY!!!!

[lemon-wedges]

Just wanted to ask (and feel free to not answer), but how do you draw so much so quickly? I'm always impressed by how fast you doodle or paint. Also, wanted to say that I appreciate your Barok and DGS art as a whole.

and with this ask i have finally reached an artist milestone 😭

Well theres a short answer and a REALLY long answer (which ill put under cut when i get there).

short answer: practice + refs

which.....can be an annoying thing to hear. And as someone who studies art and has bought a LOT of online courses trying to figure out how industry people can just churn out work like nothing. it feels like a let down every time i find out their big secret. just practice and photo refs. Every. Single. Time.

LONG ANSWER:

its how you studying your refs. heres how i do mine

sorry if this is rambly. but ill try my best to at least be clear. BUT THIS is the EXACT way i taught myself how to be quicker.

I do not know if youve taken any art classes but essentially one of the ways to study gesture drawing is by first tracing ur photo ref to get a sense of the flow/proportions of the body. youve probably seen a billion of these tutorials floating around:

So last year around hmmmm june/july? i was NOT looking to get better at my anatomy or gesture. i was actually trying to get better at clothes. but my problem was it took me so long to draw out a figure (which i was fine with cause i liked how my people looked at the time) that i could never really just focus clothing part.

So i told myself look. ur not looking to draw in this style like this forever. so for now SIMPLIFY SIMPLIFY SIMPLIFY!!!! I WANT THE BAREBONES OF A HUMAN HERE TO MAKE A MANIQUIEN FOR CLOTHES OK

but how do i do that....

Im gonna use this piece as an example from my rise and yosuke fashion palooza month. FIRST u see i got all my photo refs together. i like those poses on the right and i want to switch out the clothes for the other ones i picked out. i trace out my poses. kind of like the tutorial up top but since this is about draping i was focused the exact places their waist/arms/legs/etc would bend.

and like the tutorial u turn off the photo ref and do a drawing based off that traced piece.

then i would turn on my refs and add on my clothes

And after a month of just doing that over and over and over. i was surprised to find that figures and poses were so much easier to understand when i would break them down like this. and once u get familiar with them the faster and more confidently you'll draw them.

I and still do this btw. heres my otasune from the last week

i used photo refs for all my sketches. if i cant find anything online to match what i want i just take photos of myself. and some might say well arent u just relying on reference TOO much?

AND AGAIN take it from someone who has spend a lot of money buying classes from their fav artists in the industry. The Secret of how they churn out so much cool work so fast always turns out to be this. practice and photo refs.

Every. Single. Time.(tho this is omitting a lot. im not getting into like they way they stylize their art work. that actually the fastest and funnest thing to do once u have ur base down)

Now PAINTING

The thing is, i dont actually post up all my work on this blog. So theres a ton of stuff you havent seen me do. These are some paintings i did 2 years ago for a class.

I already know how to pick my values and set up lighting. When you see me painting my figures now. i am not focused on learning these basics im actually just honing a technique.

you might see me post readmores with these kinds of wips. I lay in all my colors and lighting with the lasso tool. ALL THE MAJOR DECSIONS ARE DONE HERE

(the little miniature i add on the side basically tells me what the overall feeling is going to be when i blend in the lineart to be cohesive with my colors) ( also if you had any questions on my prepainting process tho. feel free to ask!!!)

and if you compare this wip to my finished piece youll actually find that i dont stray that far from what i've laid in.

everything happening at THIS stage is about feeling out how i want the textures to blend with one another and getting funky with some brush strokes.

and thats it? im not sure if any of this is helpful but if anything. i hope you come away from this feeling like what ive been doing here is nothing special. "THATS IT???? THATS ALL THERE IS??? well i could have done that :T"

exactly man. you can do ALL OF THIS aND MORE!!! I BELIEVE IN U :D

but ill let this be the last thing i leave u with my friend: my barok sketch and the refs i used for his boobies

[notnights]

You mentioned that years ago you felt just as miserable as you do now. Which means you've lived threw this before, and you will again.

Or atleast i really hope you do, you seem nice

The art you make and stuff you write is honestly beyond just hella awesome even the reblogs you make are just rad! (im bad at verbalizing this kind of stuff but i do appreciate you on my dash, im glad your here. But much more than that i appreciate the type of person you seem to be and the stuff you like)

I hope whatever is plagueing you washes away again as it did before, until then remember to take care of yourself please. Summertime is usually a tough time for people all over the world and we kind of forget we're like actual animals, Be your own zookeeper! Drink enough water and get plenty of sleep

I hope your day/night gets better man

The problem is several of it will never ever go away. It’s always with me most of it will always be with me no matter what. And that sucks. Hahah man that sucks. Sure some other things might get better but some others are always going to be there and will still be there when other problems arise again. And I constantly wonder if maybe I preformed some terrible deeds in a past life to get such a messy combination of problems. And every month seems like worse news comes up and who knows maybe if I had a break, maybe try and fix one of those things at a time things would get better but that’s literally impossible without how this stuff works.

I do feel like drawing and story telling is the only real value I have about myself but it’s not like viable compared to everything else wrong with me. It’s a skill that doesn’t effect or that I can even utilize in helping in any other things in my life currently other than I guess vent and make art. I draw so much it feels like such a byproduct I don’t even like post 40% of what I make because I either feel it’s unfinished or just not something people would be interested in (which is fine I draw for myself and mostly myself posting it or not is just a socialization thing more than anything else for me)

But it’s like that doesn’t help treat my illness, or help me figure out what’s wrong with my brain that makes it unable to drive a car, make enough money to treat me or move and get out of here, heaven forbid if my mother found out the type of stuff I was drawing, what she’d do should warrant her own stay at the psyche ward.

Sorry this is a lot to dump on a stranger a little anon I know you’re just trying to help and I do appreciate it I’m sorry I’m being so negative. I do appreciate small things like you liking stuff I reblog and do decide to share.

Yesterday I accidentally stayed up near 30 hours after a break down after reading a letter I received with sucky news. Then now just woke up after sleeping 19 hours and I’ll probably decide to sleep more what else I got to lose. But I still haven’t eaten. Even if I was given food right in front of me I don’t think I could stomach it I feel so emotionally awful.

[gatsby-system-folks]

Hi besties

I didn't feel like deleting this commission post. Thankfully, the friend who I opened commissions to help has stable housing now. I'm not saying commissions closed, I'm just busy lol.

Illustration:

Some examples of my work

I'll also do relatively short comics. This is a snippet from my webcomic. A sketch is $10, colored sketch is $15, lineart is $10, colored lineart is $15. Shading or lighting on anything will add $10. I'm not separating character art and landscape art, both have the same rate, but something with more than 5 characters or something set in a city (or otherwise densely populated/elaborate area) will be a little more ($5 for every character above 5, and an extra $10 for an elaborate scene). Comics are the same, each page (not each panel) will be treated as a piece.

Writing:

I'll write for ocs, and from:

Homestar Runner

Rise of the tmnt

The Usagi Chronicles

Gorillaz

Good Omens

Undertale/Deltarune

Homestuck (and its affiliates, such as pesterquest or friendsim)

Venom

Moon Knight

Treasure Planet

Hellboy

Doctor Who

Our Flag Means Death

The Chronicles of Narnia

The Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit

The original 6 Star Wars movies

The Spiderverse series, itsv and atsv

The Davina skit from Rab C Nesbitt. (I see yall shipping Davina with Mrs. Robinson and I love yall)

If something's not on this list, you can still ask, and if I've seen whatever the media is I'll probably write it. On the other hand, if i haven't seen all of the content for the medias listed above, I'll have to do some research so it might not be the best work (ie the only reason I'm limiting this to the first 6 star wars movies is because I haven't seen any more than that)

I'll do ships between canon characters or between ocs, I'm not comfortable doing x reader content at this point. Also.. they don't have to be ships lol I also do just. Fics.

Some examples of my work:

I'm gonna keep it simple and do $20 per thousand words, but there's not a minimum word count. That's $0.02 per word lol. When you describe the fic ill give you an estimate of how many words I can do it in, and we can adjust. If the fic goes more than 150 words over the final estimate then it's flat-rate (as in the price doesn't continue to climb)

Poetry

Any subject really. I'll add examples of my work when the website I post on is fixed. Poetry is twice the price of fic

Editing:

Keep it under 5,000 words for now. $8 per hour. I'll edit fic, essays, etc.

Worldbuilding:

If you need help figuring out a magic system, how pipes connect your city, weird biological facts about your aliens, or even just where to put the castle parking lot, I can help. Same rules of fic writing and editing: if we chat worldbuilding for an hour, it'll be $8. If you want a 500 word summary of your new worlbuilding, that'll be $10. The text of the chat of course is free, you can pause your time of course, and whatever time I spend writing the summary isn't double charged. So an hour of chatting+ a 500 word summary would be $18

What I won't work with, in any format

Heavy nsfw- light is ok

Incest, pedophilia, noncon etc

Hate, bigotry, overly political work, bullying

Torture

Glorification of not good things. Depiction does not equal glorification

Case by case: real, living people. Context below.

What I won't draw, specifically:

Gore

abuse (such as beating, verbal, emotional)

Self harm

Everything is case-by-case, if something makes me uncomfortable I'm not going to do it. You may not put my work into an ai scraper of any kind. Also I'll say it again, depiction does not equal glorification.

Context on real people: I mean if you want me to just draw a picture of Margot Robbie that's most likely fine, or write about the wacky secret society that Laura Ingals and St. Patrick were running that's probably fine, or if a real living person appears in the background that's probably fine (I see you good omens fans having Crowley and Hozier hang out at a bar), but I won't write shipping for real, currently living people, nor will i make them the mc of a story. I'd prefer not for dead people either, but that's not a hard rule. Once again, case by case.

[deathzgf]

( almost ) ALL MY AMREV + FREV WIPS ( 12 october - 5 november 2023 ) ! ! ! ! !

WARNING : long ass post jFDSFLKJSLF ( will all be under the cut )

NOTE : not everything is here ! a lot of my amrev + frev drawings are doodles ive done in class ( which i cant find ) + i Do Not Like a lot of them + Tumblr only allows so many images T___T

ah yes . . . the doodle that started it all . . . my good omens sona in the french revolution ! except i had no idea what i was doing at ALL and had no historical context ! which i now do have and it makes me ENRAGED for how good omens handled that era . . . why are they in the bastille in 1793 . . . ANYWAYS ! YEAH !

aaand because of that doodle , i researched frev fashion ! and guess what ! that robespierre fashion video came up ! wooo robespierre ! and then this was the first fucking thing i drew of him i cant . I WAS TRYING TO FIGURE OUT HOW THE FUCK HE MISSED SO BAD + HOW THE BULLET WOULD LOOK

BECAUSE after that i drew this ! pookie ! ! !

first saint just drawing . i was listening to angel with a shotgun on loop . . . and i thought . . . angel with a guillotine . . . get it cuz hes . hes angel of the terror . and . and . a

i dont have any explanation for this

i hate this . but first robespierre AND saint just drawing wahoo

first frev oc except the hair on that one drawing is red because i went back and changed it cuz i made their name Jules Le Roux and . You know . Red hair . yeah

jules and calixte ! ! ! calixte is @toastytrusty ' s oc and my sweet sweet little baby i love them dearly

. . . saint just doodle i forgor to come back to

JULES AND CALIXTE LORE

miku binder robespierre

saint just painting robespierres nails because :3

WE INTO THE AMREV NOW WOOO . anyways me when ive married and icarus and hes flown too close to the sun lol ( his wings are meant to be burning letters btw . yeah )

jules , calixte , and leonard interaction ! ! ! ! !

which didnt go well

this turned out gayer than intended i genuinely dont know what happened here

i wanted to continue this so bad but i fucking forgot about it but Uhhh uhhhhh uhhh

you know those vamp ! robespierre and vamp hunter ! saint just aus ? yeah

PLEASE STOP SAYING IT LOOKS LIKE A DICK IVE NEVER DRAWN A VIOLIN BEFORE PLEASE LEAVE HIM ALONE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE . anyways he playsss theee violinnn he tucks it right underr hisss chinnnnn

winning the idgaf war . unbothered . living his best life

theres a storytime for this drawing but ill save that for later . john adams ( 2008 ) scene redraw but instead of jefferson grabbing adams elbow its his waist except it looks awful and i need to redo it soo baddd

vamp ! robespierre and saint just ( ? ? ? i guess vamp hunter ! saint just cuz thats usually what goes with vamp ! robespierre but idk man ) . they were meant to be on like some moonlit picnic or some shit but then class ended and i forgor about this

donald trump , alexander hamilton , and thomas jefferson . need i say more ?

the ORIGINAL toxic doomed yaoi ( hamburr )

burr . boobies :3

that one scene from saint just et la forces des choses BUT AGAIN this turned out gayer than intended . why do they keep doing this

hey girl i think theres something wrong with your leg

semi modern band ! gay trio . . . thing . . . ? girl idk . but i gave up

making jules a proper ref ! who cheered !

AAAND THATS IT !

let me know if . you want me to finish any of these because otherwise theyre probably going to rot in my gallery HELP

[glitchyvoice]

Do you have any blorbos or ideas to share?

floodgates: open

yes!! i have a bunch of aus im working on though im assuming u mean cotl specific (the others are undertale/deltarune and homestuck related if theres any interest)

the main one im working on right now is fates twine, (which ill explain in more detail in a second) but i have two others. a pirate esque essentially dnd campaign au story which ive named tears in a bottle. im still figuring out designs for that one but nari is a critter the size of the lambs hand so thats funny. its called tears in a bottle cuz the lamb and the others in the pirate crew go to raid a lost city, and the statue in the middle of said city (which is of shamura. the bishops are all archfey in this au so theyre cool) is weeping golden tears into a bottle which contains nari. only the lamb can see these god tears and nari.

i also have ideas for a madoka magica x cotl au but i have no designs and not enough ideas to talk about it currently.

but then theres fates twine. fates twine ("fates twine binds the hearts of you and i" is the full name, fates twine is my shorthand) is a prequel au which starts when the old gods are still around, and out of the bishops only shamura has their crown. it explores what would happen if the lamb (who is named mara) found the red crown before nari could, and fought against their ascension. they actually meet nari when hes still a mortal because of this and they become friends. shenanigans ensue. (narinders name as a mortal here is paean. i thought it would be cool to link him to the demon he always becomes in game) i have a bunch planned and have like 4,000 words worth of scenes written for it. but they're all for different parts of the fic so it's not currently postable. the closest image i have for mara around the time they find the crown is this little sketch for a scene i made

they dont typically wear the crown they usually have it as a ring on their finger to hide they have it but for that scene they do.

this is a bit of an older design and artstyle but this is mara when theyre a bit older. this is. the only coloured drawing i have of them rn but im gonna work on more soon.

this is their current design at that age. the other lamb there is omen, their little sister. i have a whole page of doodles of her that im gonna post tomorrow probably. shes one of my favourite fates twine characters i love her sm lolol

and these are sketches of mara post them becoming a cult leader!! so yeah nari does still get the crown and ascend instead of them eventually and they become the last lamb and all that but its about the interesting things that them being the true god of death causes. so yeah. you also get one (1) paragraph draft snippet of the first chapter bc im feeling silly

so yeah!! yap over