#Very fun to make been stuck in the sketch for like a week but finally made a breakthrough today

[whlskr]

That feeling when your doppelganger mails your juicy yearning letters to your Ex for funsies.

Clementine of the @thenightpost, a wonderful eerie podcast about cursed gay posties solving mysteries in the Skelter. Huge recommend, if not for the show then for the very charming people behind it 💕

[cilil]

Today I unearthed a folder in which I saved some good memories from school, mostly drawings and doodles I made together with friends or by myself, and it's making me emotional.

I... found that I made fanart for a game I loved at that time and... the art wasn't bad. Especially for a teenager and beginner artist (yes, I am a beginner artist to this day, it's embarrassing, I know). The art was cute, even has some attempts at shading and converting colors to black and white. I like it. A lot actually.

And now I just sit on my bed, holding these old sketches, and wonder why I never pursued art. I loved it so much. I had fun. My younger self wouldn't have kept these drawings if not, and my older self can see it on the paper, in every line, every stroke, every tiny grain of pencil dust.

What made me think that this wasn't worth pursuing, not worth trying again until many years later? What discouraged me? I don't remember an exact moment or anything; the only thing I know for sure is that I knew and believed - and know and believe to this day, to be honest - that there's a lack of innate ability on my part and that others my age are so far ahead and were back then as well. Hell, I've been behind since I failed to color within the lines in kindergarten.

It feels and felt like a fool's errand to deal with my clumsy hands and messed up back for hours just to end up with something that is... maybe charming in my eyes, but so, so subpar in the grand scheme of things.

I stuck to writing in the end because it was the only thing people said I was good at. And I'm glad I - just this once - had the courage to do so and to keep going and, eventually, push myself into sharing it on the internet too. Through sheer delusion and determination and lots, oh, lots of writing I clawed myself up to a place where I feel just confident enough in my skills to not constantly question myself and happily create.

And therein lies the answer for art as well, doesn't it? "Just keep trying, just put in all those hours and days and months and years of work for it as well, until your hands bleed and your back gives out, eventually you'll get there! Talent is not required either!"

But it's not that simple. I'm not sure I can do this again, muster enough courage and delusion to be terrible for years until I finally start making things that go from subpar to mediocre. And maybe never from mediocre to decent or even good.

When I learned to write, I had other people's claims that I was talented to fall back on and wasn't as hopelessly behind other people. Now motivation is lower and frustration is higher. Learning curves and empty canvases paralyze me; the last time I made art it took me 2 full hours until I could push past it. Not to mention that I'd picked out all references and tutorials and everything a week before.

Where does this leave us? What will I do, you ask? Well. Even if I never beat these demons I can assure you that, every once in a while, the urge will overcome me and I will attempt something. Maybe I'll learn and improve just a little by accident. Maybe I'll even get my ass up and actually learn sometime.

I am technically currently doing an art event somewhere else, so at the very least I will be forced to make a few pieces.

And I know myself a bit better these days. That also helps.

I know that, if anything will get me past the demons, it's obsession, the need to illustrate my own fics and, most importantly, porn.

[ntls-24722]

half a sketch dump bc I've had these on the backburner for like... a week at this point 💀

The holy trinity. What I was trying to play with was Rinkalla having a weirder beard - the original concept for her hairstyle was that she's always wanting to do stuff with it. What I thought would be fun is if she had one of those giant, detailed, decorated beards you see in a lot of mesopotamian art. That and it'd make sense for the time period that homo mousike's in.

Solidifying Bugs + the lionflea redesign where I bit the bullet and went straight up dromaeosaur.

Bugs are 8 legged "mollusks" rather than being fully hardshelled, and due to not having a full carapace weighing them down, bugs got huuuuuuge, from being as small as our insects to being as big as elephants. They're pretty much nautiluses that got up on land and evolved to walk on their tentacles with concentric muscles rimming their muscle groups to add support, and they retained their shells as a beetle-like carapace on their backs. Wings are extremely common just like they are in our insects, coming from a derived antennae - The edges of wings are covered in the chemosensory hairs that allow them to smell and taste, and bug ear canals are at the wing-armpits, allowing them to create an external ear when their wings fold up around them.

The ancestors of lionfleas are these occasionally bipedal, beetle-mantis-ospreys that evolved their back limbs to become tails. Lionfleas began to lose more of their limbs as they became more and more bipedal, and during their "ground owl" period they doubled up on the chemosensing hairs both to smell better, but to muffle their flight, just like how owl feathers are fuzzy at the edges, too! Lionfleas can fly, but not for very long, but wings make them stupid scary jumpers.

Speaking of these osprey-beetle things, here's the development of another member of their clade...

Here's this post. I included this whole page because I find it so funny that you can literally SEE the progression happen. I even wrote out "holy shit" when it clicked bc i was losing my mind.

Anyways, the first half is the hypothetical birdguy-DJMM fanchild and the bottom of this page, along with this next picture, is the djmm alien I've been looking for.

Finally, I figured out a design that made a chin and nose necessary, and made the teeth-plates possible. It's only a bonus this guy turned out to be a cutie patootie.

It's a parrot! It's a squid parrot! It came from the same ancestral beetle that the beetle-osprey did, and it evolved wiggly teeth for dexterity and facial expressions. There's a GIANT socket where its teeth sit in, where it can be pulled up into the DJMM "teeth-plate" position, and down into an awful hooked beak position for tearing into prey. Originally it was a modest joint like it is in parrots to better hold things and pull in prey, but it got exaggerated to the point the two hooks can sit vertically just for the sake of seeming demure to other squid-parrots (and to exaggerate when they push their teeth out when they want to look scary).

Their skulls are actually super narrow and only comprise of their jaw, and can actually be pushed out of their face like a goblin shark! Deeply awful! Demonic little thing! however they're very cute. I dont think I'll make these ones sapient, I like them more as fun little animals (and an easter egg DJMM in the, yknow, DJMM alien setting)

Dirt skeleton!!! dirt skeleton yayyy dirt skeleton!!!!! I put these two seperately because I didn't want these two to be cropped. these are so nice doodles.

The dirt skeleton is completely devoid of romantic or sexual desire but he still enjoys being kissed by Comet because he sees it as her bonding with him and he is quite attached to her as well. He fundamentally doesn't understand romantic attraction and doesn't get it, but he does get that there's a bit of social weight to being kissed that he's fine with recieving.

Second doodle is him being stuck in the same position for 5 years to allow his bone to heal. The times the dirt skeleton has fractured bone above ground, his crying eventually becomes this constant, irritable frequency that pretty much gets everything to evacuate within its mile-wide earshot, which is quite convenient. People who get near his site of healing literally get annoyed by this unhearable, yet deeply uncomfortable frequency playing and leave. During this, he also stops percieving the world, blinding and deafening himself, as percieving the world as he experiences the worst pain he can feel becomes overstimulating.

[morningnoodles]

i can't find it right now but i saw a post a few moons ago that was basically like, "the biggest thing you can do to improve your art is to make whatever you're interested in right now" and listen. LISTEN.

i get it. truly i get it. before this year, i rarely draw boys. least of all older men. i was one of those kids who drew girls and fairies and princesses and just stuck with that for most of my artist journey.

and then- april 2023.

amidst one of the longest creative block i've had in my adult years, i got really into lotr and the hobbit. i constantly had (and still have!) this need to draw the characters, especially bagginshield. and so obviously i followed that need.

i mean, if your brain that's been on block for more than a year suddenly goes, "omg i want to draw them i want to draw them i want to draw them", there is no other correct response but "okay let's draw them!" and the results were absolutely horrendous. over time i do see some improvement. just looking at the art i thought good enough to post back in april and my recent ones, i can see i've improved plenty in quite a short time. i even finally worked out a process in my digital art that i feel happy with!

but to me that was never the point.

i don't think i will ever share the sketches i did on those first few weeks and months. still, i look at pages upon pages of completely messy blobby sketches with great fondness, not because of how much i improved since then but because i remember how much fun i had doing them.

so yes, make art that you love and you'll very likely see improvements. but also making what you love is reason enough to make them.

[whoiskt]

Grad School Q4 - Week 1

All my classes are on Mondays and Wednesdays, so maybe I'll bring this back for Friday summaries.

Here's a Lloyd sketch that might become part of my business card. Working on that right now among many things!

I wasn't really ready to go back to school but rarely in my life have I ever felt that after summer break. This quarter is all required classes, which isn't the most fun but I'll get by okay. Plus, all the classes are pretty much back to back, which gives me such flashbacks to high school, since I'm just in the one building all day.

Anyways, I'm currently kind of nervous because to complete my MFA by the end of summer 2025, I need to go up for review this quarter. But it's required that I have taken 45 credit hours of 700 level courses. Unfortunately, 10 of my 45 credit hours are 500 level courses, so I am technically not eligible. But, since the thesis class is only taught once a year in the winter quarter, missing this milestone would mean pushing my graduation to 2026, which I cannot do, not spiritually and definitely not financially. So, I am asking for an exception to be made, and that is TBD. Because I have a lot riding on this, so I am really very nervous for the answer. We shall see.

I guess worst comes to worst I can switch to an MA. Let's be real... I am not professor material, anyways.

But to get to my week in review: My first class is a writing class. I got excited because I imagined I could do a Lloyd Void spin-off as my main project for this class, one that is geocentric in the sense it would follow my character Earth as a slice of life comedy before the events of LV. However, for this class we were sorted into short groups, and they prefered my sailors and music idea (the one I have been writing as a movie) and I might choose that. I am stuck with the ending, and maybe working that out in the class (since the class is only writing a measly 20 pages) is a fine use of my time as well.

My second class is a studio, and I am making LLOYD VOID KEY ART for the PITCH! This honestly is the most scary thing, because I have to make 9 whole completed illustrations in 10 weeks, and I think my current record for completed illustrations in 10 weeks is something like 4, with some VERY lazy bgs, which I am not allowed here, so wish me luck.

Finally, my last class is something something coloring? Honestly not fully sure but day 1 we had A LOT of hw already due for class 2. (we also had to color a page of a comic but I am not showing that here)

The artist is Lois van Baarle. THIS IS NOT MY ARTWORK I JUST COLORED IT:

Unexpectedly my prof said, "This is very well-done, perhaps even once of the best versions of this I've ever seen." I was shook. I have been studying color all year, trying to get better, but I never expected such a compliment.

I want to get better at reflective lighting still but I have definitely been feeling more confident in palette choices, at least.

Anyways, that's all for now, definitely more artwork to show you next week, bye!

[pumpkin-spike18]

✨Weekly Progress #29-30✨

Let me start this off by apologizing for my inactivity 🙇‍♂️ I try not to dive too deeply into my mental health on this blog, but those who know me well know how much I struggle with it. I think my brain shut down and retreated after finishing my recent projects. I relied on daily never-ending tasks to get me through each day with a sense of accomplishment so when that ended, I wound up in a void where I couldn't bring my creativity to amount to anything new.

I kicked my butt back into gear the last couple of days after realizing how little I did during week 29 (and week 28 looked inflated, but I did most of the work in 2-3 days leaving most of my week blank).

I don't know where I'll go from here, but I've worked out some new upcoming plans for future projects! And I'll do my best to start replying to messages and comments;; I've left everyone on read for long enough...!!

Thank you so much everyone, for continuing to support me al this time! 💕

Weekly Progress #29

Wrote O2A2 post mortem

Finished aKwtD ref sheet lines, flat colors

Weekly Progress #30

Finished aKwtD Liz refsheet

Finished aKwtD Camille refsheet

Reorganized/scheduled work

made SFB roadmap

Prepped SYVNH plan

Updated vgen services

Drafted more proposals

Sketched SFB sprite

Detective story concepting/outlining

A Kiss with the Devil

I completed the refsheets for Ley's upcoming yuri game!

It was a lot of fun designing them from scratch and then being able to render them in full body art! I've always shied away from full body pieces because they take a lot of time and energy... the refsheets took over a week from sketch to final piece. But I'm really happy with how they came out!

Camille, the player character, and her love interest, an immortal and possibly immoral eldritch creature, Liz!

A Sky of Falling Birds

I'm working on proposals for funding and marketing of this game as it will be a commercial work when finished. I created a new roadmap for how I'll plan to get more assets done (...and reduce the number of assets, hopefully). The current plan is to have a Demo 2.0 for Yuri Jam to better show off the story since the current demo focused more on the art and animation aspect.

A sketch for the final character sprite of SFB. I originally planned to give her two outfits, but I might try to cut that if I can...

Stuck in a Yandere Visual Novel... HELP!!

Yes...! I've still got a bit of work left for this project!! Mainly some future updates. I do want to get a steam release for SYVNH one day so I'm working towards that!

I will also be putting out some surveys soon for interest in merch based on the characters. The feasibility of it will depend on interest for what type of merch, ofc, but at the very least, I will be working on some new art for folks soon [: As a thank you for playing, and all the love you've shown for the game so far!

Other

I went into more detail than I probably should've in the intro of this post, but even in my "slump," I've been busy practicing art when I'm not getting my butt kicked by some Hollow Knight mini boss for 2 hours.

I've started a doodle blog, that some folks found in less than 24 hours 💦I'm not ready to formally connect the two together, but if it seems like I've been active there, it's just cause I draw a lot every day. It makes the monotony feel better. This blog will still contain all of my devwork, but all my art musings will be in that one.

I'm sure I'll have the courage to link the two together soon.

[binarybitex]

behind the scenes: Boss Babysitter

with the most recent chapter of Heart Hollow being released (Boss Babysitter), I thought I'd share some insights into my creation, writing, and notetaking for it.

caution: this post contains spoilers!

Welcome to Boss Babysitter; Mr. Andrei Wright decides he needs to come back down to the Hotel's floor after his Assistant Manager - Lewis Lockheart - destroys company property in an emotional overflow. Zeke, still processing having seen his orderly manager snap, has to join the two managers throughout daily tasks at Heart Hollow Hotel. The three of them oversee maintenance, attempt to review an end-of-week-report, and have a meeting with housekeeping. Not even halfway through the day, Mr. Wright decides it's time for lunch; Zeke offers him a cigarette outside in order to give the two managers some space. One questionable conversation later, Zeke trudges back inside to enjoy Lewis' company for the remainder of his break. After a brief history lesson and some comments that are just a bit too sweet for coworkers, Zeke and Lewis' attention is brought outside as Andrei Wright gets arrested for fraud.

the earliest mention of this chapter was from the very first Heart Hollow master arc list (dated 2019 or so). a lot of things have changed, but I knew from the get-go that Andrei was going to be arrested.

fun fact: when i was originally creating Heart Hollow in 2019, I was taking a much more adult-comedy-cartoon route. there was, in fact, going to be a shoot-out as (gasp) the FBI and (even bigger gasp) the IRS show up!!! i decided to scrap that. it just doesn't match the "real-life" drama route im taking now lol

the arc list from november 2021 is one of the first redrafts of the story after my 2-year art block.... the one from april 2022 was after I started making the comic. again, lots of things have changed, but I always outlined space for an episode revolving around Andrei's arrest

here's me brainstorming potential chapter names. i recall struggling with the name because i liked a lot of my options; however, i eventually stuck to "Boss Babysitter"

........

(eheheh it's a play on the hit DreamWorks film "The Boss Baby" featuring Alec Baldwin as "The Boss Baby")

the first idea on what i wanted the meat of the chapter to be about. i wanted to really put the nail in the coffin about Andrei's mismanagement and how that's been affecting Lewis.

more exploration into what the chapter was to be about. i find this one curious, actually, as this was from my earlier notebook (2021-2022) so I guuuuueeeeess I had a pretty good grasp on this chapter early on......??? thank god for notebooks bc it's really hard to keep everything crammed up in my brain.

the chapter before it ("The Heart of Heart Hollow") concluded on Lewis punching the employee bathroom's mirror. i had to bring up the aftermath, how Zeke was managing having seen that. i also wanted to touch upon Lewis' return back, and how unlike him it is to take an impromptu vacation like that. i knew even in the earliest drafts of this scene, that Lewis was going to lie about where he got his wounds from.

early sketches of Lewis' arrival after his impromptu vacation. these lil thumbnails make me giggle.... theyre just so silly lookin.

i also needed to consider how their day was spent with Andrei joining them. i broke it down piece by piece here, scene by scene. i love my additions of dialogue within my loose ideas. it really brings momentum to my writing process.

also, sidenote: can I just say that I do not hold the same beliefs as Andrei? he's a shit head and i wanted to make his character very uncomfortable to be around.

the scene between Andrei and Zeke was one I've had planned for years. it was so euphoric to finally write it out and send it out into the world. here's the snippet where he outwardly admits to his white collar crime.

for the longest time, I was going to reveal that Zeke was living at the Hotel at the very end of "Boss Babysitter"..... however, when I was writing the aftermath of the mirror break (in "The Heart of Heart Hollow"), I thought it appropriate to include Zeke's squatter status. the drama of the story starts to tie itself together as we witness Lewis do something dangerous and impulsive, and learn something rather confidential about Zeke. we start to wonder: who are these characters? what have they gone through to lead them here?

lastly...... just a little doodle of Andrei in prison garb. i love that he's let his beard grow a bit more.

[wilowby]

Pop or flop?

“If 6 Was 4”

-

Only an hour till Halloween night remained and Kyle was still painting the cardboard scythe that he’d built for his costume. Most every aspect of his diy outfit was last minute, using clothes and items he’d already had. But the props and more special details had to be made by hand, which was no biggie. He liked projects. But it was never as much fun when he was in a rush.

He and his pals had decided to dress as ninjas from a cartoon they used to watch when they were younger. Each character wore a different color, Stan had chosen blue, Cartman: green, and Kenny was hell bent on being the girl until the boys clowned on him enough to change his mind. In the end he was to be the red ninja.

Kyle had been stuck choosing between his two favorites, the ninja with the white outfit vs the one in black. As much as he appreciated genius characters, the ninja in black was just so much stronger and cooler, therefore the choice was obvious.

What excited him most about his costume was the golden weapon. The thought of being able to hang his very own life sized prop from the show in his room made having to actually build the damn thing worth it. He’d spent the morning sketching onto cardboard according to measurements he’d come up with, cutting and hot gluing, to finally be at the part where he could actually make the weapon, well, golden.

Though to be fair it was just a basic yellow color at the moment. But the sky was darker every time he checked and Kyle wasn’t sure if it was worth it to start on shading and highlights that he couldn’t finish. There was a front *and* back, after all. If he could just ensure the entire thing was one solid color and *dry*, maybe that would be enough.

Humming along to the sounds of electric guitars and drums emitting from his phone, Kyle did his best to ignore the alarming speed of his heart beats. It was just the medication, which the doctor said there might be side effects from. But he had to push through because apparently it takes weeks for that stupid small pill to kick in.

It had only been five days and Kyle was starting to lose weight. He could barely eat more than a meal and a half a day. Loss of appetite, another side effect. But people online said that was normal and everyone experienced it. He would just have to force himself and maybe set alarms for every meal time.

That part seemed strange to him. He thought the point was he wouldn’t be losing track of time anymore. Still, he followed that advice. As well as many other pieces he’d come across. To think his whole life would have to change, all his routines and habits. Just to support the new pace of his brain. Just to feel more normal.

Kyle put the paintbrush down to shake his hand. He was being so jittery it pissed him off. A lot of other things were making him upset recently, like the way he couldn’t zone out of boring conversations anymore because his ears began to pick up everything. Or how unappetizing his favorite foods looked like throughout the day.

When he woke up he couldn’t think. Like a cloud settled inside his head. But during the day, although clear, his thoughts still seemed empty. Like the metaphorical hamster he always used to explain his mind was just sitting there, thinking freely to itself but no longer wanting to run on the wheel. For what? It didn’t need it anymore.

Something about that made Kyle sad. He sat there staring at the brush and his project and willed something crazy to happen. A sudden bolt of lightning outside or the formation of a magical portal right beneath him. Or even just for his mom to come in and ask him a question. But nothing happened.

Moving only his eyes, Kyle glanced at his phone which was still playing music, a tune that was starting to sound like the same beat over and over. Before any consultation, he attempted to surprise himself by quickly reaching for the device. But it was no use, he had already seen that coming from a mile away. So predictable.

Defeatedly, he sighed and opened the messaging app.

Call?

He waited patiently for a response, which made him sick to his stomach.

The patience, not the response, which was:

👍

Kyle taped the video call button, adjusting a few strands of hair as he saw his reflection in waiting. A moment later, Stan picked up.

[xjoonchildx]

Hi Ana,

I hope you've been well. I'm super shy and normally, reaching out to folks, much less to one of my favourite authors on here (Greedy!Yoongi will always have my heart), would drown me in anxiety, but I finally managed to read Kanalia (I'd had that on hold for years) and I just had to tell you how much of a wonderful writer you are.

I'm an editor by profession and aspiring writer by hobby, and I loved every part of the story. The characterisation, the yearning and the passion, the final realisation that if the King wasn't going to keep to his word, all bets were off... It made me cry but also brightened up my sunday morning, so much so that I've come straight here to ramble all this at you after spending a couple of hours sobbing into my pillow while reading it.

Ngl, i wondered if it would veer off into a humdrum love triangle, as these things so often do, and I was pleasantly surprised that it did not. The scene at the stables, especially, chefs kiss! Although, I've got to wonder - this Hoseok had shades of Anthony Bridgerton - was that something you were going for? The subtlety in there was very well done.

I also loved the FL and the way her motivations and character arc progressed. It was done logically and skillfully and I felt myself wishing again and again, while reading through, that some of the traditionally published authors I've read possessed the skillset that you and many others, not just in the BTS fandom but also elsewhere, have.

I've been reading fanfiction for such a long time and nothing has ever come close to how well written Kanalia is, imo. It has always astounded me that so many people are simply hanging around in this world, writing such amazing fics, simply for the fun of it. I've written, both for work and otherwise, and I know how difficult it is.

Fandom is wonderful and Ana, you and your friends are such a lovely, wonderful part of it. Please keep writing.

(Please excuse the familiarity with which I've written - I've read your work and lurked on your blog for so long, it feels like you're a friend. I apologise if I sound too familiar 😄)

wow, anon. where do i even begin with this kind, supportive, motivating message? i'm humbled 😭💕😭

first, let me thank you for reaching out even though you're shy. i know for some people it's kind of daunting to speak to internet strangers, but i assure you this ask made my day/week/month/year.

second, thank you endlessly for your kind words about greedy and kanalia. the fact that you are an editor makes this feedback even more precious to me (and an aspiring writer 👀). this story took me a long time to write (as you know) and the fact that people stuck with me through that long process is just the best.

i super appreciate your feedback about the plot developments, too. i know a lot of people were expecting a very dramatic confrontation between LJ and the King, but something about that angle didn't feel right to me. i saw both of them living these shadow lives as the most likely and most successful option and certainly there is still drama in them both choosing to seek their happiness in other people.

as to the bridgerton angle, i have yet to get through a full season of bridgerton and it's not because it's not right up my alley -- this is actually my favorite kind of historical romance! i'm just lacking for time lately so i'm going to pick it back up because the few episodes i did get through i really enjoyed. but i've read many a historical romance, so no doubt there are some similarities.

your girl is weak for an outwardly-cold, inwardly-mush man as my fics are a testament to 😂

the thing about this wonderful message is that it's scratched that part of my brain that yearns to write a real book. a real series. i have a dream to convert the guarded series into real books (along with stories sketched out for the remaining members) and i don't know what's keeping me from trying. i'm in this awful space where i've accepted a promotion at work and the time commitment that i have to put in is crowding out my real passions and that sucks.

i don't have aspirations of being at the very top of my field, because even though i know i'm very good at my job it's not my passion. and don't i want to give myself time and space to be able to do my real passion? i really, really do. and when i go back and skim through the guarded series i see so many things that i want to change and tweak and make better. transforming that story is a dream of mine, and maybe it's time for me to stop making excuses and actually chase a dream.

anyways, sorry for the rambling. just know that this message means the world to me. maybe one day i'll be able to come here and tell you that i've finally made my dream come true 💕

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Ten. Faces

warnings: swearing, hate comments word count: 4.1k (not including pics)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: sorry its late!!!! this feels rushed but i was just too excited to get to some parts!!! also i have had some parts written out for SO long that they dont even feel cute to me anymore so im literally praying to every deity rn that you guys think its cute lmao anyway enjoy!!!!

**********

It had been about a week since Karl's slip up but everything was already more normal than Y/n had expected it to be. Of course, George, Sapnap and Quackity were all very understanding and gave her space while simultaneously reassuring her that she was safe with them. She fully believed it too, she knew she was safe with them and they weren't going to tell anyone her name.

The one unusual thing was now she had a heavy guilt, like someone dropped another sandbag in her stomach, every time Dream texted her. If the others knew, it was only fair that she tell him her name too, right? I mean, it's Dream. Dream! The boy who had quickly slipped his way into her life and, though she wouldn't admit it to Karl or Naomi, her heart.

But how? Does she just come right out and say it or wait until it gets brought up? She hadn't practiced telling anyone her name because she wasn't planning on doing it any time soon. Though, maybe she should have been seeing as she was going to see them all in person in a little over a month.

Regardless of the guilt, Y/n had other things to worry about today; Quackity was coming to visit. Karl had picked him up from the airport and the two of them spent all day catching up and doing who knows what but Y/n still hadn't met him. She was scared. She wasn't scared of Quackity, but scared because it was the first time one of her online friends would be able to put a face to her name and voice.

Y/n shuffled across her living room rug and reached for her phone on the coffee table, looking for some sort of distraction while she waited for them to arrive.

-

Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled, shaking her head as she threw her phone on the couch. Okay, he's right. It's gonna be fine. It's gonna be great. It's just Quackity. If he said anything rude or annoying or anything she could literally just step on him like a bug.

A sharp knock on the front door of her apartment snapped her back into reality. She shook her limbs of nervousness as she made her way to the door, two familiar voices begging to be acknowledged from the other side.

"Let us iiinnn!! Y/nnn!!!!" Karl whined.

After countless times asking the same question, she finally convinced Karl that she was okay with him using her real name in front of Quackity. He clearly still felt guilty about telling the boys her name, asking her multiple times in different ways whether he should call her Y/n or Bugsy in front of the guest. She finally got it through his head that she didn't mind either way.

"Hold on!" she yelled back. She unlocked the door and swung it open to see Karl and Quackity. "So impatient."

"Holy shit, you are tall! Goddammit, I thought that was a joke!"

Y/n laughed shyly at the greeting, looking at Quackity like he was crazy. "Hello to you too. Tried to warn you, dude."

"Yeah but, damn! You're tall and attractive, what the hell?"

"Dude," she said with a warning in her voice. She thought the flirting on Twitter was funny, but in real life she got embarrassed easier and wasn't a fan. "I'm about to kick you out of my house before I even let you in."

This was weird, meeting Quackity before meeting some of her other friends. She loved Quackity, but she had known George much longer and Sapnap even before that. There was no problem with meeting Quackity, she just had no idea how to act since she felt like she hardly knew him.

"Am I allowed to tell people that you're hot?" he asked as he fell on her couch, Karl following right after.

"Quackity!" Y/n yelled, her face heating up at a compliment. "Seriously?"

Karl cackled and shoved Quackity. "Shut up, Alex! No, you're not allowed!"

"Sorry, is that compliment reserved for Dream?" He cackled at his own joke and Y/n's face heated up even more.

"I seriously will kick you out of my house."

"You wanna be flirty on main but not in real life?" Quackity scoffed.

"I'm not flirty on main, you are!" she laughed. "Seriously, don't."

"Okay, sorry, I'll stop," Quackity promised with a laugh in his words.

The three of them fell into easy conversation, mostly because Karl and Quackity were already comfortable around each other at this point. They eventually decided to go to the mall, just to mess around and do something.

*reminder: covid doesn't exist in this fic bc we only want happy things so ignore their masks :P*

Y/n frowned as she unlocked her front door, staring at her phone. She had been so happy with all the fans freaking out about the meetup so she looked at the trending list, expecting to see a flood of keyboard smashes and happiness, but that's not all she ended up seeing. BUGKARLITY was trending, so she scrolled through the tweets and was upset to see not all of them were positive. In fact, when she typed her name in the search bar, lots of the tweets using her name were rather mean.

A few that stuck in her head called her an attention whore and said that her friends only flirted with her because she paid them too. Who on earth would even do that? Some hurt way more than others but she tried to push them aside. It wasn't like this was the first time she had seen comments like this, but they had only gotten worse since her Minecraft date with Dream. She was worried it was cause more hate for her friends and the last thing she wanted was to be the cause of their own hate.

She typed several different messages to Dream, deleting them all after she reread them. She felt like she had to request the same thing from him in a different way. Maybe because she felt like his words meant more, even if he really was just joking like the rest of them. She decided to call him instead of texting.

"Hi!" he chirped happily from the other end.

"Hi, Dream," she said as her chest filled with something warm at the sound of his voice. "How are you doing?"

"Good," he dragged out the word. "How are you?"

"Okay."

"Just okay? What's up?"

"Um," she started, immediately forgetting the words she decided she'd use. "I just... would you mind, uh, not flirting with me so much on, like, Twitter and streams and stuff like that?"

There was a silence before Dream's frantically apologetic words came through. "Yes, of course, oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. If I had known I was making you uncomfortable, I wouldn't have—"

"Wait, no," she interrupted but he must not have heard.

"—said things like... oh gosh. Bug, I'm really sorry—"

"Dream!" she raised her voice, getting him to stop ranting. "You don't make me uncomfortable."

"Oh. Really?"

"Of course not. I actually think it's really..." Cute? Adorable? Endearing? "funny," she decided.

"Oh. Then why...?"

She sighed heavily and explained what she told the others. "So, yeah. I just don't want you guys getting hate because of me so I figure if you stop then... you know."

"Bug..." he said gently. "I'm really sorry. I promise you that I don't—none of us think those things about you."

"I know."

"No, seriously," he said, clearly not believing her. "You need to understand that I..." he paused. "I mean what I say. Always."

Always? she thought. There's a few things he's said that certainly he didn't really mean... like calling her cute?

"I don't joke around like that unless I want to. I wouldn't say things like I say to you unless I really, really, genuinely considered you a close friend and felt comfortable around you. And I do."

Her heart swelled. "Thanks, Dream. I just... maybe don't do it so much for right now? Online, at least," she clarified, not wanting to deprive herself completely of Dream's flirting.

"Yeah, if that's what you want, of course."

"Well, I don't want you to stop flirting with me but, yeah."

He chuckled. "Oh, you do like when I flirt with you?"

She hummed and changed the subject. "Did I interrupt you doing anything?"

"No," his teasing voice dropped and was back to his regular self. "I'm just editing the video we filmed the other day."

"Oh, the 'Minecraft, but you can't touch the floor'?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh," she said, not meaning to sound disappointed. "I'll let you get back to it—"

"No. I mean, you can stay on the phone. Unless you're busy."

She smiled and put her phone on speaker and set it next to her foot on the floor. "I was just gonna paint. So I can stay."

Before she knew it, almost two hours had passed of them sitting in comfortable silence, occasionally speaking to share something with the other before going back to their tasks. It was comforting knowing she didn’t need to speak constantly and could just hang out with Dream.

Y/n's phone rested on the floor next to her, Dream on speakerphone on the other end, only the sounds of his keyboard clicking letting her know he hadn't fallen asleep or hung up. She wasn't sure when they started doing this, staying on the phone even when they had nothing to talk about, but they had done it a few times before. They had talked on the phone and Discord many times but it was usually always with purpose, not usually this silently-enjoying-each-others-presence nonsense. Who was she kidding calling it nonsense, she enjoyed it an embarrassingly insane amount.

She repositioned so she was laying on her stomach as she finished sketching an image that was in her mind.

"Hey, you still there?" Dream asked softly.

"Yeah. Sorry, am I taking away from your sitting in silence time with George?" she joked.

Dream chuckled lightly. "Nah, you're more fun. I was just seeing if you ditched me for Karl yet."

"Nah, you're more fun," she mimed truthfully. "But I'm very focused on this drawing."

"Can I see it when you're done?"

"Don't expect too much. It looks bad."

"If you don't tell me what it is, I can't know how accurate or inaccurate it is."

"Very true..." she trailed off, holding the canvas further away to examine it all at once. She wanted the sketch to be perfect before she made permanent choices with paint. She enjoyed the serenity they maintained even when talking, voices low and delicate like they were keeping secrets but not quite whispering. "Are you almost done editing your video from the other day?"

"Sorta. I'm at the part where you and Sapnap almost died laughing because a ghast knocked George into lava and then Sapnap laughed so hard he fell into lava."

She chuckled, remembering the situation vividly. "That was so funny. The way George screams is so funny."

"Let Naomi know that," he mumbled, causing Y/n to gasp.

"Dream!" she laughed loudly and he joined.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry. It's true though."

"Disgusting!"

A distant voice sounded on the other end and she assumed it was Sapnap. "What do you want for dinner?"

Dream responded with a soft, "Nothing, I'm good."

"Are you talking to Bugsy?"

He must have responded physically because the next sound was Sapnap's very clear, much more lively voice speaking directly into the phone. "Hi, Bugsy!"

"Hi, Sapnap!"

"Can you tell Dream to eat some damn food? This man literally hasn't eaten a single thing all goddamn day."

"Dream," Y/n scolded slowly. "Please eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"I'm not showing you my painting until you eat."

A door closed on the other end and she took that as a sign that Sapnap had left.

"I don't wanna see it anyway. It's probably trash."

"Take that back!" she gasped lightly. She looked at the canvas as she grabbed the first paint color and laughed. It was only a sketch and it was already trash. "Fine, then I won't go on the trip if you don't eat in the next ten minutes."

"That's punishing yourself too though."

"Who says I want to see you?" she asked.

"I never said anything about not seeing me being the punishment."

She had been caught. "It was implied."

"Sure it was."

"It's true though. Who says I wanna see your stupid face?"

He didn't say anything, but an incoming FaceTime call lit up Y/n's phone. A FaceTime call from him.

Her smile dropped. "Clay?"

"Answer it," his voice was lower and her heart started beating faster. Was he really about to show her his face to prove a point? Reveal his biggest secret that only a few close friends knew? To her of all people? She made sure she couldn't be seen in the small window and pressed accept, the voice call ending and the FaceTime call starting.

To her surprise, what came into view wasn't his face, but the logo of the hoodie he was wearing, the simple smile of his merch taunting her. She laughed, the anxiety slowly fading away as it was replaced with a heavy feeling in her stomach. Was she disappointed? Maybe a little, but he teased her into believing she would see him.

"Oh, wow! Dream face reveal! He looks just like his icon, no way!!!"

His chest moved up and down as he laughed, not moving the camera away. "You heard it here first, guys! You've known my face all along, the logo is actually my face!"

She laughed and returned to painting, not paying any more attention to her phone since he was now also showing his ceiling, a small corner of his monitor in frame but nothing else. "I mean it though, if you don't eat, I'm going to be so mad I won't even want to be friends anymore. Or you'll die from malnourishment before we get the chance to meet."

"I doubt it. I'm just not hungry."

"Whatever."

"Oh, hey, so you met Quackity today. How was it?"

"Very scary."

"Yeah?" he asked sympathetically, urging her to explain if she wanted.

"Yeah. But it turned out okay! He didn't act any different so it was fine. It was mostly just awkward. He's also so freaking loud. You would not believe how much louder he and Karl get when they're together."

"I can imagine. Aren't they doing a stream right now or something?"

"Yeah, I think so. I don't wanna watch though, I've had enough of them for the month."

Dream laughed. "How will you deal with them together for New Years'? It'll be for like two weeks."

"Who knows if I'll actually go?"

"Wait, what?" he asked abruptly, not even bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice. His keyboard stopped clicking and she could picture him staring at his phone as if looking at her. "Of course you're going."

"Not if you don't eat food! You have, like, 3 minutes to eat something until I officially am busy doing other things whenever the trip is."

Dream groaned and clicked a few things on his computer before the image on the screen became blurry as he walked through the house, still pointing it at the ceiling. She looked away again and kept painting.

"Quackity's really funny though," she continued. "It was super awkward at first but it was fun to have someone else to help me make fun of Karl."

"Wait, Bug," Dream called out over the sound of wrappers crinkling.

"Hm?" She hummed, continuing to paint.

"Bug," his voice was much softer and he sounded nervous.

She looked at her screen and dropped the paintbrush as she focused on what she saw, grabbing her phone and holding it closer to her face so she could see, still making sure she wasn't in view. All the anxiety from the beginning of the FaceTime suddenly came back and hit her like a truck. Sitting on her screen, waiting to be seen, was Dream. His hood was up, tufts of blonde hair sticking out, and he was standing with his back towards a dark room, the dim light from his pantry making his face just visible.

He held up a cookie in front of his actual, real face. "Are you watching?"

"Y-yea... I... Yeah. I'm watching. Is that really you?"

He nodded once before shoving the cookie in his mouth. "There, I consumed food," he announced, his voice muffled by the cookie. "Now you're legally obligated to come."

"I—What? CLAY! WHAT?"

"What?" he asked innocently as he chewed, walking back to his room and still holding the phone up to show his face. His room light was on, making his face much more visible. If Y/n thought he was attractive in the harsh pantry light, he must have looked like a god in his room lighting, even as pixelated as he was due to the quality of FaceTime. He fell on his bed and Y/n could only gape at his features. He slumped against his headboard, surrounded by roughly a thousand pillows, sporting a small, shy smile as he stared at the screen. "Bug, what?"

She opened her mouth but no words came out. Needless to say, he was unbelievably handsome. Part of the speechlessness was from the shock that he showed his face out of the blue, but obviously, the majority of it was that he was pretty much the most attractive person she'd ever seen. It should be illegal for someone to look that good in a hoodie, especially when pixelated.

"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "Wanna take back what you said earlier?" He bit into another cookie.

"W-what did I say earlier?" Why was she stuttering???

"You said you don't wanna see me and that I'm ugly," he teased.

She paused for too many seconds too long before finally muttering, "you arrogant son of a bitch." He laughed loudly at that.

His eyes crinkled and he threw his head back. So that's what he looks like when he wheezes, she thought to herself, pretty.

Dream shuffled his position on his bed and rested his head on one of his hands. He looked so comfy. "Why are you so quiet, weirdo?" he mumbled.

She set her phone back down and touched her cheeks with her hands and looked away for a moment, grounding herself to the real world for a second. She couldn't process her thoughts when she was staring at a man as gorgeous as Clay. "I don't know, maybe because you gave me no warning before showing me your face? Or because you failed to mention that you're incredibly hot?"

She was so glad she had looked back at her phone or else she would have missed the glorious sight of his cheeks turning bright red before he turned the camera back to his ceiling. "Oh my gosh."

"Aw cute, I made you blush."

"Shut up," he mumbled. "You threatened to not come if I didn't eat something!"

"You didn't have to—you showed me your freaking face just to prove you ate a cookie!! DREAM! I would have believed you if you just said you ate something!" she laughed breathlessly, staring at the phone now for a chance to see him again. "I was joking anyway!"

"Sure you were."

"I was."

"Well, oh well. You deserved to see me anyway."

"Oh, I deserve to see you?" She laughed. "How big is your ego?"

"You know what I meant," he groaned. "You got doxxed by Karl and you met Quackity in person. And you've clearly had a bad day because of all the hate and stuff. You've done a lot of stressful things recently and you deserved to be let in on a secret too."

He was so sweet. Like, tooth-rotting, Halloween candy stash hidden under a kid's bed, upset tummy sweet. She also couldn't get over the fact that he was a million times cuter when he was shy like he was being now, his voice soft and unsure. It contrasted vastly with the confident, loud-mouthed Dream everyone usually saw, though she liked that Dream too. She wished he could show his face for just one more second to see what he looked like shy. Probably sickeningly adorable.

This was it, wasn't it? The chance she had been waiting for to tell him her name? He just let her in on his biggest secret, now he was the one deserving to be let in.

"Y/n," she said with a confident, but soft voice.

There was a long pause. "W-what?"

"Y/n."

He understood the second time immediately. "Y/n..." he tested, the smile in his voice clear as day. "I like it."

"Yeah, well, I guess you deserved to know the secret too."

"I would have been content never knowing."

"Really?" She didn't believe him. He seemed like the type to never be satisfied, always looking for something better. Not in a greedy way, but in a motivational, goal-oriented big achiever way.

"Really," he hummed. "I already feel like you're too good to be true so I wouldn't be surprised if you weren't a real person."

It was silent as she tried to collect her thoughts.

"Bug? You okay?"

"Yeah, I... it's just a lot."

"Sorry."

"No, it's not you. Well... I don't know. I just don't know what I'm supposed to say when you say things like that," she admitted.

He paused. "I think you always have the perfect responses when I say things like that."

"What do I usually say?" She smiled shyly, pulling her hoodie up to her lips.

"You usually call me a nerd or say you can't stand me. 'Oh my gosh I cannot stand you'," he mimicked before laughing.

"What? How is that the perfect response to you saying you can't believe I'm real?"

He hummed and she could practically hear him shrugging. "Because it's a classic Bug response. It's a hundred perfect you. So yeah, it's perfect."

She was silent, trying to compose herself before she exploded.

"By the way, check Twitter."

"Why, are you bragging about me calling you hot?" she teased, hoping to make him blush like she had earlier. It worked.

"Oh my gosh, no. Just look."

She clicked her home button and navigated to the app, her feed instantly flooding with the same similar messages.

"Oh, my gosh," she muttered, her fingers flying away as she typed out her own tweet in response to the love.

Dream chuckled from the other end and when she asked him why, he vaguely said that George texted him but didn't explain further.

"Um, I have to go," she said mournfully. "Karl and Quackity are coming over again."

"Booooo," he pouted.

"Sorry, you aren't the only man in my life," she teased before instantly regretting her choice of words. Too flirty, Y/n, she thought to herself.

"Hm, shame. Am I at least at the top of the list?"

She bit her lips, wanting desperately to repeat what she had told him on their Minecraft date. In the end, she gave in. "I always mean what I say too," she started. "You're my main bitch, baby."

Dream made some sort of sound, a mix of a scoff and a whine but Y/n didn't comment on it, just glowing with heat in her cheeks.

"Leave before I don't let you," he said softly and the heat only grew.

"Goodnight, Dream," she pressed, the tone in her voice letting him know he was being a tease. "Thanks for... thanks for your tweet. And for everything you said earlier."

"Of course. Sorry that you have to see those kinds of things a lot."

"It's okay when I have people like you."

"People like me? What does that mean?"

"Just.... people like you." Cute, sweet, kind, genuine people who make her heart flutter.

She could hear his smile in his words and she figured he knew the unspoken words in her thoughts, the ones she was saying without saying. "Okay. Goodnight, Y/n."

"Goodnight."

**********

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[outlandishscenarios]

I have to admit I have fallen into a rabbit hole of inspiration . I couldn't help myself q~q they were stuck in my head for days. I share the idea after many nights of hard work, with out further ado behold pirate Sun and Moon. I love pirates so very much and I had to, I really really had too. I spent nights thinking and building scenarios and I finally finished their designs.

And fear not I did make a y/n for this au cause why not really couldn’t help myself not to.

Im still working out the story and stuff for them all. I have so far is that both Sun and Moon are co-captains of a pirate crew and they each have their unique skills set to them so for example moon is left handed and a good swordsman, it's like he dances with his sword as he fights. While Sun is he's more defensive in swordsmanship, the one thing he's skilled at is his marksmanship he can shoot a cannon with precise aim and not only just cannons. Still adding bits to them and making ton more sketches to add more to them. I do have to admit there not animatronics and before anyone ask yes they are siblings which everything would be explained in some more sketches or I'll cave and write a story for them (more this option then anything really).

If your wondering why the belt like strap missing in moons second design drawing. I kinda forgot to write he takes it off before battle due to him not wanting to feel restricted in movement with it on, (he wears it for show cause it looks good on him). Yeah didn't see that till after I added the image here =-= sorry it's like 7:30 am I haven't slept and spent several sleepless nights for weeks doing these guys designs along with another au idea at the same time, not the smart decision on my end working day and night on these with no rest but that besides the point, they both been stuck with me so I'm sorry for dumping these ideas and designs out of now where.

Y/N was the fun one to do since I fiddled with different looks and design all while trying to give them a personality. This y/n is a hard work who trys to put above and beyond 100% and forgets basic things such as remembering to sleep or nap. I'm still working on the way things would go and how they join the crew but so far it's seems to be connecting.

The second idea was actually the first au idea but pirates won to be finish first, the other I'll send once I'm done with the final designs on both boys. Any ways have a great day every one or night or evening and be safe out there in the world. Apologies if they look blurry Tumblr made it fuzzy in posting q~q just tap on them to see them crispy clearer.

Edit: Moons sword placement has been fixed but I can't help but feel like in redrawing the sword I made it tiny then the original q~q. It will haunt me

[barbarianprncess]

is there a reason you’re blushing like that !!!!

i actually loved writing this so thank you for the prompt!

forever house

read on ao3

or

“Mom, I’m home!” Percy calls distractedly into their apartment as he wrestles with his skateboard.

“Hi honey,”  Sally answers from the couch, and he can hear the smile in her voice when she says “There's a surprise for you in your bedroom.” He furrows his brow and hurries upstairs. He opens his bedroom door expecting cookies and is instead greeted with familiar blonde hair and a bed overrun with papers far too complicated to be his own. He can’t help the smile that overtakes his face at the sight of his girlfriend, still in her Catholic school uniform.

“Hey!” He leans over his bedspread being very careful not to wrinkle her designs to plant a kiss on her cheek. “How’s my favorite genius?”

“Hey Percy.” Annabeth is currently scrambling to get her papers in order, which he finds odd because usually when he calls her a genius she’ll smile and kiss him extra gently. And then she only needs a little prodding and he can get her to explain what she's working on. She gets this crinkle in the corner of her eyes when she talks about her projects and gesticulates wildly to get him to understand. It’s awesome.

But right now, Annabeth is beet red, eyes manic, and piling papers with a vengeance. He’s not entirely sure what’s happening but Annabeths got this look in her eye- like one wrong move and she’s gonna bolt. “What’re you working on?”

“Nothing!” She says voice cracking in a way that clues him in on the fact that the subject of her stress but her work. Which Percy finds ridiculous because he may not understand the nuanced and complicated world of design, but Annabeth’s smarter than anyone, she’ll figure whatever it is out. Annabeth gets like this sometimes- ADHD fixation and her need for perfection is a combo that doesn’t mix well and in the months that they’ve been dating, there have been more than a few times when Percy had to loosen her fistes curled around her designs in frustration, and talk her down from a panic attack because Apollo didn’t love his statue. Percy hates that her work does that to her, but he likes taking care of her.

“Annabeth,” He says slowly, hands already positioned to relieve her of the designs that she managed to wrangle in her lap, but she bats them away.

“No, no it's not- I’m not.” She looks up at him and her eyes soften at his concern. “I’m fine, seriously I’m not stuck on anything.” Percy raises his eyebrows skeptically.

“Sooo… is there a reason you’re blushing like that?” Annabeth's hands fly up to her neck as if she can stop the flush of her skin from the outside. Which is a mistake on her part because Percy immediately grabs the blueprint she was so desperately trying to hide. She lunges for it, causing the remaining papers to fall forgotten on the floor, but Percy's growth spurt, along with the angle she’s sitting on his bed, makes it so he’s able to keep her at bay.

“Percy!! Give it back, oh my gods, I’m gonna kill you!” He’s heard that before and he’s still breathing so, he takes his chances. He makes out the words “Forever House: Annabeth Chase”, and a vague sketch of what looks like a shoreline. He catches Montauk and something about support beams when Annabeth finally succeeds in snatching the paper from him. She’s flushing even harder now, and her hands are covering her face.

“Which of the gods are asking for a forever house?” He laughs until he notices Annabeth shaking her head and she lets out a muffled ‘none of ‘em’ from behind her hands.

“Hey, hey Annabeth.” He says softly poking at her sides and pinching at her cheeks (he gets mostly fingers because she’s still covering her face but, all the better to grab her hands with). She sighs and lets him take her hands and sit on the edge of the bed, still not meeting his eyes. He squeezes the fingers in his grasp, a silent promise not to make fun of her, and she takes a deep breath and forces out an explanation.

“Well, a couple weeks ago, while I was waiting for you to get out of school, me and your mom talked for a while and she mentioned some of your trips to Montauk and how much you loved them, and we were looking at pictures and she mentioned how you always said you wanted to live there, right on the beach when you got older, and inspiration kinda struck and I started sketching out your hypothetical beach house. And I guess subconsciously, your beach house became a version of…. the forever house.”

Now, Percy’s heard of the hypothetical ‘forever house’ before. Annabeth had told him once about her favorite theoretical place, created when she was little. Having lost every person and place she was told to call home, caused a deep distrust for anywhere she lived in the future. (He doesn’t blame her, he’s not sure he could ever trust anything if he went through what she went through before Luke turned to Kronos- let alone everything she went through after.) So to cope, in her head she’d design a house that she’d build when she was older- now known as the forever house. She told him she daydreamed about building it, how it’d be open and bright with huge windows so she’d never feel alone again. But, despite its openness, it’d be sturdy and rooted in place. The design and location changed over time but it always had big windows and it was always immobile. And no matter what happend, that house would be her ‘something permanent’. Her forever house.

As what she was saying registered, Percy’s smile grew impossibly wide. Annabeth must’ve assumed he was laughing at her and deflated. “I know, it’s stupid and creepy just forget it ok I didn’t mean-”

He let go of her hands as she rambled and cut her off with a kiss. He wasn’t sure how to articulate what he was feeling with words, so he let his body speak for him. His thumb swipes at her cheek (I’m sorry that you had to build a house in your head because the people that were supposed to love you didn’t, it wasn’t your fault, thank you for trusting me anyway), he runs fingers through her hair (It’s an honor to be a part of your future, I’m going to care about you, on purpose, for as long as you’ll let me), he tilts up her chin to deepen the kiss (I love you, all of you).  

When they part he rests his forehead on hers and allows himself a minute to be in awe of her. He learned a long time ago that Annabeth was brave. But after learning so many of the intimate details of her past, he thinks that her ability to love at all is an act of bravery. Everytime she tells him a secret, or holds his hand, or lets him walk through one of her walls is an act of rebellion. To love Annabeth is to be in awe of her relentless courage.  

“Thank you.” He whispers. He doesn’t clarify what for and she doesn’t ask. She just smiles something small and says, “You’re welcome.”

He kisses her forehead because he can and half-laughs out, “You made me a house.”

“Ugh.” She buries her head in his shoulder bites at his collarbone in annoyance. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t, you love me, you know how I know?”

“I’m begging you to shut up.”

“Because you made me a house!” He says gleefully into her hair.

Annabeth shoves him back on the bed and he pulls her down with him. She half on top of him, face buried in his chest when she retorts,

“I made us a house.”

He hopes she doesn’t mind when his arms tighten around her. It’s instinct. And a necessity. And when he whispers i love you into her hair, it's a silent promise. A promise to do anything and everything possible to get them to that house one day. From the way she smiles into his shirt, she’s gonna do the same.

[lifeofkaze]

Hi love!

Sorry for bothering you, but could you do something like really cute and fluffy between Charlie Weasley and reader where he's all shy and delicate maybe teaching her about dragons and their characteristics pls? Like, something that feels really intimate, you know?

I absolutely love your writing and I believe that you could make justice to the character.

Take care darling,

-A

Thank you for the request, loveliest anon! This is actually the first fic request I’ve ever gotten and I’m so happy you like my stuff so much, this makes me very very soft.

This fluff piece was just what I needed to get my mojo back hopefully. Please let me know if this is like what you had in mind - I for one had a lot of fun with it! <3

***

Favourites

Charlie Weasley x Reader

Word Count: ~ 2.800

As a Care of Magical Creatures test covering dragons of all things is imminent and you were too distracted in class to pay proper attention, you know just who to turn to for help.

“You want me to do what?”

Charlie Weasley blinked at you in confusion. He could feel his blood rushing in his ears as he looked at you standing in front of him, clutching you Care for Magical Creatures book to your chest as you raised your eyebrows at him.

“I asked if you could help me studying for the test next week?” you repeated your question, brow slightly furrowed. “I can’t keep track of all these dragon traits and who would know them better than you?”

Charlie felt the heat creeping up on his face. Of course, the test. It was all he had been able to think about ever since Professor Kettleburn had announced the topic; all except you of course.

He tried to formulate a coherent answer that wouldn’t make him look like a blabbering fool in front of you, but the way the dappled sunlight that broke through the trees reflected in your hair distracted him more than he cared to admit.

So he resorted to a weak nod. “Uhm, sure, I’d love to. See you at six in the library?” he managed to stammer out eventually.

A beautiful smile formed on your face as you nodded in enthusiasm. “Sounds great, see you there!”

Charlie watched as you swished around and walked back to your friends, who greeted you with giggles and whispers as they glanced in his direction. You gave one of them a playful swat on the arm, before your clear laugh carried over to him onto the warm summer air and made his heart clench.

He knew all of his dragons by heart, of course he did; this test was the first he hadn’t bothered studying for at all. But now, he suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to prepare himself.

 *

The light of the sun had already started to turn into the beautiful golden shade that heralded the end of a warm autumn day as you skittered into the library. You were a little bit late for your study session with Charlie, and the exertion from running all the way from your Common Room flushed your cheeks slightly red. Your friends just hadn’t let you go, all of them just as excited for what they called ‘your dragon date’ as you were. Not that you’d ever tell them that.

You found Charlie sitting at a table near the windows and your breath caught for a moment as you took in the warm light that washed around his frame; it was making his ginger hair glow like fire, the only vibrant speck of colour in this dusty old room full of books.

He had his nose buried in a big, leather-bound tome, his eyes darting over the pages frantically; you noticed how the tip of his tongue stuck out between his lips in concentration. He was so immersed in his reading, that he only noticed you approaching as you sat down next to him. Jumping in shock at your sudden appearance, he almost knocked over his ink bottle, only catching it at the last second before its dark, inky content could wash over the thin pages of his book.

“Oh, you’re here already, I didn’t even notice you until now.” His freckled face had flushed a shade darker than usual as he put his ink bottle back into its position and made room for you on the table.

“I’d rather say I’m here finally,” you responded, feeling a little bit guilty at making Charlie wait. “But I see that you started without me.”

He hurriedly closed the book. “No, I was just reading up on some facts about Welsh Greens so I have them sharp in my mind,” he explained, “in case you have questions, you know?”

It was only now that your eyes took in the numerous heaps of books piled up on your table. “First question,” you said as you ran your fingers over the backs of the tomes stacked on top of each other. “I thought the test was about dragons native to Europe and not every single one in existence,” you pulled out a particularly old looking book containing myths and fables, “and beyond.”

You silently counted the numbers of books Charlie had amassed and your eyes went wide. “Charlie, these must be all the books about dragons in the whole library,” you laughed, giggling at the flustered expression of the boy beside you.

“Well, not all the books,” he clarified sheepishly. “There are quite a few in the Restricted Section and then there’s the two I have up in my dorm but forgot to bring and- “

You cut off his rambling by gently touching his arm; he shut up almost instantly, glancing nervously down to where your hand was lying. “It’s alright, it was just a joke.”

“Of course,” Charlie muttered slightly embarrassed. What was wrong with him?

He watched as you pulled your notes from your bag; they were rather sparse compared to the almost three scrolls of parchment he had scribbled down himself.

“Where do you want to start?”

You hummed to yourself as you considered your choices. A warm, fuzzy feeling spread inside Charlie’s chest as you drew your lips into a pensive pout and tapped your index finger against it.

Finally, a neat stack of white flashcards, that lay hidden behind a book on Sea Serpents, caught your attention. You reached over Charlie and pulled them towards you.

Your mouth dropped open as you flicked through them; on every one of the laminated cards was an extensive profile of every kind of dragon imaginable. The descriptions were written out in a neat, accurate hand that looked nothing like the careless scrawl you’d seen on Charlie’s class notes.

But what took your breath away were the detailed drawings below the text. They were done by pencil and although they didn’t move like magical pictures often did, they were so lively as if they only waited to pounce off the paper and take into the air.

Charlie watched you apprehensively as your fingers traced the outline of what appeared to be a Swedish Short-snout. He felt his heart beat faster at the soft, admiring look in your eyes as you turned towards him.

“Did you do these yourself?”

He nodded in response. “It’s hard to find decent descriptions all in one place,” he explained quietly. “I don’t know how accurate the sketches are though; I’ve never seen a dragon in real life.”

You flashed him a radiant smile that had his heart rate pick up considerably. “I don’t care if they’re realistic; they’re brilliant!”

Encouraged by your excitement, he took the flashcards out of your hands and fanned them out, their blank backs facing you. “Then I’d suggest we start with them; pick one!”

Running the fingers along the cards twice, you finally settled on one and drew it out of his grasp. Charlie’s freckled face lit up as he saw which one you had chosen.

“The Ukrainian Ironbelly,” he exclaimed, “my favourite!”

All of his former shyness was suddenly forgotten; this was his prime discipline.

“The Ironbelly is native to the Ukraine, as its name suggests, obviously. It’s considered the largest dragon species in existence with an immense wingspan, long talons and scales that are said to be harder to pierce than steel. It’s name stems from the metallic grey colour of his underside and ever since one particular large specimen carried off a whole sailing ship in the late 18th century, they are under strict observation by wizarding authorities.”

You did your best to jot down the information Charlie dumped on you with impressive speed but there was no way you could keep up with his excited ramblings. So you resorted to listening to him as he lectured you about feeding habits, hunting methods and the average temperature of the flames an Ironbelly could produce.

He sighed wistfully as he paused for breath. “They’re amazing.”

You couldn’t hide your smile at his dreamy expression as you picked out your next card from the stack. “Okay, how about this one?”

The dragon it showed had ridges running along its back, ending in a nasty, arrow-shaped spike at the tip of its tail. It barred its teeth at you in a vicious snarl.

“That’s my favourite, the Hebridean Black,” he repeated his words from before, positively bouncing with energy this time around.  

You glanced at the card you two had just worked your way through. “I thought the Ukrainian Ironbelly was your favourite?” you teased him.

Charlie’s bouncing stopped instantly as he blushed bright red; you hadn’t meant to bring him down and felt sorry all of a sudden. So you propped the card against one of the book piles and turned to him.

“So, tell me more about it.”

Relieved to be able to tread on secure ground again, Charlie immediately recounted all the facts about one of the two dragon breeds native to the British Isles to you.

You continued in this fashion; your pulled a random card from the stash and Charlie would tell you everything he knew about it. He grew more animated with every new flashcard; as it turned out, every dragon you talked about was his favourite.

Seeing him so caught up in his favourite subject had a warmth spread in your chest and the smile on your lips never vanished even once. You had given up on writing Charlie’s words down about four cards ago and were merely staring at him explaining to you everything about these fantastic beasts that made up all of his dreams and musings.

His excitement quickly spread to you and you found yourself hanging onto his every word. But the more you were listening to him, the more you found your concentration shift from the dragons you were discussing to the boy beside you.

Your head propped on your hand, you admired how recounting scale colours and preferred environments of Romanian Longhorns brought a twinkle to his blue eyes and how his contagious laugh had you chuckle at the idea that people would confuse a Hungarian Horntail with a Norwegian Ridgeback.

The dimples forming in his freckled cheeks as he smiled at you were the exact reason why you had needed help with studying for this test in the first place. When you had talked about dragons in class, the eager smile and the slight scrunch of his nose as he scribbled down every single word Professor Kettleburn had to spare had left you breathless and unable to concentrate on anything but the butterflies dancing in your stomach.

The pile of flash cards had dwindled down until only a few more were left. Your breath caught in your throat as you turned around your next pick; the pictured showed a slender dragon directly from the front. It’s wings were outstretched and it seemed to be staring directly at you out of wide, pupil-less eyes. It was the only drawing so far that was coloured.

Your finger traced the subtle colour gradient rippling over its pearly scales as Charlie looked over to see which one was next.

“The Antipodean Opaleye,” he murmured, taking in your fascinated expression, “it’s singularly coloured scales and eyes are the stuff of legends.”

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, trying to imagine how the scales of a real life Opaleye might shimmer in the sunlight.

“Not as beautiful as you,” Charlie suddenly blurted out. The words had fallen from his lips before he’d even had a chance to stop them.

Both of you froze as what he had said sank into your consciousness. You couldn’t believe your ears and were half sure that your mind must have played a trick on you.

You carefully glanced over to Charlie out of the side of your eyes; he looked incredulous and you could watch the colour of his face turning from ghostly white to a deep, vivid scarlet that clashed with his ginger hair in a matter of seconds.

Feeling your own cheeks starting to blush at the unexpected compliment, you desperately were looking for something to say to take the shock out of his widened eyes. But your mind wasn’t working properly anymore, so all you managed was a meek “Wow, uhm, thank you Charlie, that’s really sweet.”

It was apparent your words didn’t help his flustered situation as he covered his face with his hands and groaned “I can’t believe I said that out loud; I’m such an idiot.”

You didn’t know what to do to help him; you felt utterly flattered and confused at the same time. You thought about putting your hand on his arm to reassure him what he had said actually made you happy, but paused halfway, not quite daring to touch him again.

Still unsure of what to do, you got up and picked up one of the books he had used to illustrate the facts on his flashcards.

“I’d better get going, I guess,” you stammered without looking at the wretched boy sitting at the table next to you, “thank you so much for helping me, I think I’ll manage the rest on my own. Can I borrow that book though?”

He didn’t raise his face from his hands, but nodded anyways. You felt bad for leaving him like that, but your head was spinning and you desperately needed to sort out your thoughts.

But seeing Charlie’s slumped frame sitting at the table, all the bubbly excitement from before completely drained from him, tugged at your heartstrings so hard it almost hurt. So instead of turning around and leaving, you drew a deep breath, gathered your courage and stepped behind him, placing a light kiss on his cheek.

You could feel his shoulders tense and his breath hitch as your hair tickled his jaw and were glad he couldn’t see the deep blush on your cheeks as you straightened up, picked up your bag and his book and hurried out of the library with a racing heart, too afraid to turn around once more.

*

Charlie and you hadn’t spoken again after what had happened in the library. It had taken him quite some time to be able to think properly again after you had left; he had just sat at his table, hand on his cheek where you had kissed him, staring into nothingness, the peachy smell of your hair still hanging in the air.

Even though the thought of how soft your lips had felt on your cheek had been the most prominent thing in his mind, he had passed his test with flying colours; some things just couldn’t be erased from his mind, no matter what was happening around him.

He had just returned to his dorm after a particularly tiring Quidditch practise when he saw it lying on his bed, propped up against his head bord; the book you had borrowed from him to finish studying on your own.

For a brief moment, he wondered how you had managed to get it up here, when he noticed something white sticking out of the pages. Curious, he picked up the book and flicked it open.

Even without looking, he knew what chapter it was you had marked with whatever you had put in there; he had read this book more times than he could remember. It was the chapter on the Antipodean Opaleye; he grimaced at the memory of when he had last thought about this particular dragon.

A white flashcard was stuck between the pages, its laminated surface flashing as Charlie turned it around to read it.

A big smile stole onto his face as he saw the photograph of you laughing and waving at him that you had stuck on the front side. His eyes swept over the lines written in your feminine hand and his smile grew even wider as he read the ‘special characteristics’ section:

It has to be remarked, that this particular specimen was able to pass her test with full marks.

He was glad to hear his blurted out compliment hadn’t affected your marks in the end. He sighed wistfully, when he noticed the very small, scribbled note at the very end of the card; it wasn’t as neatly written as the rest, almost as if your hands had shaken while writing it down.

Greatest weakness: While not many weaknesses are recorded of this specimen, it is said that it can be easily tamed by ginger-haired dragon trainers in the making. Whether these rumours are true, remains to be determined.

Charlie’s mouth dropped open as he read the last section over and over again, not daring to believe what he thought they said. But after the tenth time, he finally allowed the butterflies that  had been fluttering in his stomach to spread into the rest of his body, his smile growing into the widest grin as he tucked the flashcard carefully into the book again.

This time, he was sure; this one was his favourite.

  Tagging: @weasleysandwheezes

[borkthemork]

Finally cleaned up this draft based on @/popcornbee’s art and it is now officially on AO3 as well, so I hope all of you enjoy!

---

There were numerous pathways for a sparrow to travel. Following their migration patterns, they'd travel down to warmer lands, typically somewhere protected for the nights. In doing so, they'd rest in the winter and return back all new. Refreshed for the upcoming springs and summers.

For American Tree Sparrows, these patterns were necessary to survive.

For Joe Sparrow, the true information depended. 

He liked to flit about on rapid wing beats. He preferred curdled mealworms due to previous battles hurting his digestive system. For migration, he remained stubborn on whether he liked the warmer breezes or if the Newtopian stables were of true home than anything else.

Newtopia had a history of domestic birds. Joe Sparrow was the mixed case when he grew all-natural, got captured and owned by one or more owners who called him previous names, and then found Marcy in the middle of sweltering rain. Where a mission lead to something new and surprising, bold and unorthodox, and the moment Joe saved her — chose her hand of all people — Marcy promised to keep him safe. Safe, protected, cared for.

And nothing had pulled these two away from each other. Not even the fleeting concept of gravity. Or the fact winter threatened his nests.

Anne asked about him before. On one occasion, where Marcy groomed him under Plantar barn shade, Anne looked at his big, round, puffy belly and wondered out loud where the scar above his eye fit in out of all things.

Of course, Marcy had the answer.

“Oh, you know Joe,” she sighed. “He keeps pushing his limits. You won’t believe how many scars this bad boy got during his old career. For the eye one, he actually got that scar back when he was just a fledgling, but this was during the morally ethical times where amphibians didn’t really care for mounts unless they were battle resistant.”

Her hand parsed through his plume, giggling when Joe tweeted pleasantly against her skin. “But now he’s in a morally ethical place, aren’t you, boy? Yes, you are.”

Anne snorted. She ruffled Joe’s feathers too, and the two giggled quietly when the sparrow seemed to lean into the touch. Almost as if the sparrow connected immediately to Anne.

And Anne teared up over the thought. “It’s just like mother nature intended.”

The week afterward reminded Marcy of her sparring days, but instead of swords and smoke bombs, she had worms and patience. Lots of patience as Anne attempted to feed some mesh into Joe’s beak — and ultimately got stuck when she leaned too hard into his mouth.

It was funny how all this bonding time left her blind to anything else on the schedule. Marcy could instruct Anne to direct the mealworms to Joe for hours and still find Anne’s laughter to be the highlight of her day. Maybe Joe would sit on Anne, and leave her yelling and laughing under floof-fulls of bird, and Marcy would sketch that scene than the typical mission schematics Lady Olivia instructed her to look through.

Marcy hypothesized that Joe's love for attention spurned her focus. It made sense for birds to tease if they didn’t get the proper reaction out of people. It made sense for a bird such as Joe to find affection in someone who exuded goodness from their heart. But then Marcy would remember Anne. For Anne had Joe’s affection at the palm of her hands but irritated the bird enough to prefer dipping her into a nearby pond just for the sake of playfighting. And that enough had gotten her intrigued.

Was it another phenomenon she needed to analyze? To understand fully until the cusp of discovery?

Perhaps. Not right now though.

Marcy had found a breakthrough. A breakthrough in Animal-Human Sociology. But her focus lingered elsewhere, came down to how she rested next to a bucket load of dirty feathers — snoring into her best friend’s shoulder until the moon rose high above the Amphibian mountains.

---

When Marcy stared through the sky, and the act alone reminded her so much of Kid Icarus. If she ignored the wings branching out from the corners of her eyes, and only focused on the colors then she thought of herself as flying. Flying through skies that bled yellows and reds like Aivazovsky, framed so well against the crisp horizons that Marcy could almost paint the perfectest picture in her mind.

And when wind buffered her hair, parted the clouds with her hands, she swore that the taste on her tongue was of fresh saltwater.

Navigation. Freedom. The fades from orange to blue to maroon. Marcy loved riding for a reason. She held onto Joe’s reins with the utmost quickness, spelled out her name with short dives and leaps through cumulus tufts. And in the aftermath, she wrung her coat dry of moisture.

At least, until Anne became a priority.

Anne Boonchuy. Friend of ten years. Friends since the term friends became part of the Merriam Webster. Now, the latter sounded silly, but friendship could be a frank concept at times, it was something Marcy had no clue how to navigate, and yet Anne found her and decided Marcy was worth her time.

So they were here now: One readying an avian saddle, the other petting Joe’s tufts with the heaviest affection. And aw, Joe seemed to like it, what with the amount of cooing he’d been doing for the past hour.

Not like Marcy didn’t want to get in on that action. She just needed to finish clipping on the latches — and when she did that, it would be go-time, her a-game.

“Anne, can you push me that satchel?”

“Sure thing, Marce.” With ease, Anne somehow lugged a chair-sized bag over to where Marcy was, and they remained silent afterward as she finished the remainder of preparations.

What preparations? Well, the kind that remained out of her league.

“Sooo, where are ya’ going, exactly?” Anne asked. She had the same perturbed look to her ever since she whiffed the scents from the bag itself.

Marcy couldn’t help but rub her neck, not knowing how well to respond. “Well, I’ve been planning to scout an area somewhere high up in the Southern sect of Amphibia. I got wind that some bandits plan to use a route to jump ambassadors from here and there on the pathways, and I just wanted to make sure that doesn’t happen again, you know?"

“For sure, dude. I mean, you are the boss after all. That stuff’s gotta be pretty important if you’re getting loads of homework for it.”

“Well,” Marcy puckered her lips. She was right in some sense. Chief rangers plopped themselves into some high category up in the Newtopian ranks. It made sense. “Correct, kinda. I don’t really call it a boss position, more so a job. A very fun job, actually. You’d be surprised at how many prefer office desks to infantry, it’s nuts.”

Although, the more she thought about it, being able to stay safe in a big ole’ cube than getting skewered by bandits did sound appealing. Less probability for harm, sure. But Marcy loved the hunt way too much for her own good.

If Andrias gave her another objective, she might as well do a little dance at this point; there was always something exciting to partake in.

And with Joe, the fun always doubled with him.

At least, until she remembered that Anne had been staring at her, snapping her fingers in front of Marcy’s nose. “Marbles, you good? Another zone-out moment again?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. Thanks, I was about to get worried, the internal dialogue I had was getting way too extensive for my taste."

"Well, now that you’re out of your internal dialogue stuff, I got to ask.” Anne peered at Joe again. “Can I get on your bird?”

Marcy blinked at her. “Oh. Of course. You don’t really need to ask me if you’re curious about riding him.”

“I know, but he’s a big softie, really wanted to make sure I got your permission before anything else.” She coughed. “Plus I’m not gonna take any vehicles without permission. Tried that once. Didn’t go so hot.”

Somehow, Marcy found herself giggling. She couldn’t pinpoint why; Anne’s honesty must’ve just been that funny. “Well, if you want to jump on the SS Joe Sparrow, I’d be happy to show you around and get you a front-row ticket to some action.”

“For real?” Anne beamed, only for her expression to melt into a frown, scratching her chin at the thought. “Aren’t you on ranger duty though?”

Okay, she had a point there. “I mean, yeah, but I’ve mainly done this stuff solo. Sure I’ve got Joe to accompany me but it’ll be interesting to have a second person on board for the ride.” Without a skip in her beat. “And why wouldn’t I have you go with me? Of course, I would. You’re always the best on road trips.”

And with that, Anne’s smile grew tenfold. Oddly beautiful. Oddly hard to describe. Weirder to even have herself think those things in the first place. “Count me in, then. Let’s go, Marbles!”

Oh well. She’d think about that later.

---

Joe softened his landings in-between. And at certain points, when the mountains dipped to valleys he rocketed around and buffeted the gales just for the heck of it. He had the heart of a little kid sometimes, every moment he swooped through some current or plummet forward if he got the chance. He liked to make himself seem so grand when he cheeped. And Marcy confided in the idea that no matter how aged this sparrow would become, he’d still be the softest avian around.

Always there. Always playful. Always…eager for potential mates. He was the total package for best mount in all of Amphibia, and Marcy didn’t want it any other way.

So with Anne, Marcy became delighted when Joe kept that same kindness. It wasn’t just Marcy doing rough landings against solid ground or her zipping through the air. There were two people, two people to consider on the back of his saddle.

And Joe never disappointed her. He pivoted, swerved on command, and coaxed giggles from the girl behind her, whose arms pressed tightly to her waist until their hair puffed out from the wind.

“Keep your arms locked in, Annie B!”

Marcy’s hands whipped the reins, whooping at the top of her lungs when the dive pushed oceans of air into their faces.

The straps and belts dug into their laps when Joe pulled up, braced them in a loop-de-loop that had their eyes rolling when they finally exited out to a steady level.

And Marcy could hear the laughter behind her.

The laughter spoke of so much joy and happiness, of a symphony that Marcy had heard so many times before, and Marcy leaned into her warmth when they passed from the hallowed groves to the shimmering Newtingale creaks.

All throughout the Southern sect, all throughout the faint rattle of Marcy’s heart.

---

The ride home had been a lot darker than Marcy expected. For most of her trips in and out of the valleys, a lot of her path-finding culminated in something one could describe as an adventure. If one described her and Anne beating up an entire bandit group disguised as a clown posse to be an adventure, then yes. That was what happened.

They went head-to-head, toe-to-toe. All while decked out in white makeup and smelly rotten clown noses. This all sounded ridiculous, but out in Amphibia, one should never ever underestimate a theatre group.

For entertainment was their cruelest weapon.

Anne had been the first to ambush the bandits during the mission. With the agile reflexes of a cat, she deflected each oncoming slash with ease while Marcy took aim, calculated her crossbow trajectory until the enemies all knocked unconscious in the mud.

If one ignored the clown get-up, then what she talked about seemed like a typical day for Marcy. Always saving someone. Always doing her best. Always making sure no newts got chewed up by some toad or frog dressed up in rogue wear.

But the difference today was that she had someone to accompany her. Or how that same someone jumped onto Joe and gave that feisty bird a few scratches to his feathers, trying to wash her face in the water bucket they stored earlier today.

It all seemed domestic-like. The kind that Marcy dreamed about in fantasy stories, where the protag had a close ally to travel the world until their dying breaths.

And gosh, it was so cool that Anne became that friend.

She seemed to enjoy it too, what with the close embrace when they finally took off for the night, her chin propped on her cloaked shoulder, or the fact her exhales drifted in crisp Amphibian air.

A sign that she was enjoying everything. Everything from the swoop of Joe’s wings, the purple haze of the night, or how the moon cloaked their forms in red lighting — masking the landscape in darkness like a blanket over bedding.

Anne sighed contently. Her face nestled close to Marcy’s neck. She didn’t show that she regretted being here.

Not one bit.

“I’ve never been this high up before,” she mumbled. “The only times I did were when some creature flung me up into the middle of nowhere.”

Marcy hummed to that. Anne's fingers ghosted the triceps of Marcy's arms, left goosebumps to form and bristle in the cold, it made everything feel weird. Comfortable. Safe. “So is this less traumatizing and more exciting then?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.” Her voice rang, all charmed and sweet. “By a long shot.”

And Marcy was glad about that. Ever since she found Joe, a lot of her adventures had gotten easier to deal with. From zooming over to the Dry Swamp to the many forests hidden deep underneath solid canopies, one of the many pros of having a steed like Joe was of the view.

A view that made scouting ten times easier. The kind that entangled her in clouds, the song of avians, and the dance of the breeze. The kind that chilled her nose, left cumulus droplets on her thumbs, and when she settled down from grazing the upper layers of oxygen her body’s equilibrium warmed her up like it always intended to.

To have Anne feel that same experiences — the same elation — made the trip all the more worth it. Especially when Marcy’s skin grew warmer under non-equilibrium circumstances. All due to the cuddly contact.

Oh, Anne.

“If you want, I know a froggy pitstop nearby that sells slushies twenty-four-seven,” Marcy said softly. Joe went into a descent, already maneuvered by Marcy’s quick hands at the reins. They weren’t going to land yet. At least until Anne said so. “Wouldn’t hurt to take in the view on a full stomach.”

“That sounds amazing.” Anne pressed closer, and Marcy tried not to think about the murmur, how low it rumbled against Marcy’s ear. Gosh, she must be really relaxed by now. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I’m ready for some grub.”

“Well, they aren’t really grubs more like a mish-mash of every insect on the palette.”

“I try not to think about it.”

With laughter escaping them, Marcy directed Joe into the forest space below, her heart synced with the beat of sparrow wings.

[jinmukangwrites]

@damianwayneweek Day 3 (6-15): “That wasn’t supposed to happen” | Reconciling with Tim | Autistic!Damian

Note: at this point, this is just "Damian cries and Dick hugs him" week. Someone send help. I love these two so much.

Warnings: angst and tears and Damian being a ball of separation anxiety.

---

The smell of sea salt mixed with the pollution of Gotham's coast is almost close to nauseating. If Damian hadn't already been feeling anxious and sick to his stomach, he would definitely be now.

And the thing is, he doesn't even know why.

It's been this way all night. It started before tonight, even. He's convinced himself it's probably something he had for lunch, but even a child would know that's a weak grasping of straws. No one ever gets sick from the food made in the Wayne Manor, not when Alfred is there to cook it.

But he tells himself it's because of that anyways. He feels sick to his stomach because the lettuce in his sandwich must have been old. Not for any other reason. And certainly not because his father has been off-world for the past month and Richard is once again holding the mantle of Batman while he's away.

"What do you say about heading home early?" Richard asks from where he stands besides Damian. The word home grates on Damians nerves for reasons that he... cannot bring himself to comprehend.

Damian nods his head, not saying anything. It's been a quiet night in Gotham anyways. His nerves feel fried from the constant anxiety pressing in his chest and he's sure the moment he gets to his bed he'll pass out.

Or at least stare blankly at the ceiling until he does.

The ride back to the manor is silent between Damian and Richard. Almost a month ago, it used to be loud with banter whenever he and Richard had a minute to themselves. They'd get back at the manor and Alfred would be there to pester them into taking care of themselves. Cassandra and Duke would enter and leave as they wished with the occasional appearances of Timothy and Jason. The only time they had to themselves was inside the batmobile, as there's not much private banter you can have while defending the streets either.

But it's silent now. Damian's chest and stomach hurts and no words seem to want to come to his throat, but he's not usually the one to start the conversations anyways. Something is keeping Richard silent as well. The thought that, for whatever reason, Richard doesn't want to talk to him makes his anxiety spike just the same as the thought of conversation.

It feels like the second they pull into the cave Damian's jumping out of the car and stalking towards the changing rooms. Alfred let's him stride past, lifting an eyebrow as he does, but he doesn't stop him. Alfred simply walks over towards Richard and offers him a cup of tea from the metal tray he's been holding.

Damian can hear the low rumble of words beginning to be exchanged between the two, but he's already too far away to make sense of them. He doesn't care to listen anyways. He just wants to get dressed and go to bed without anyone talking to him.

Without anyone asking him what's wrong. They must notice something is wrong, right? What would he say if they do ask? No. No one knows anything is wrong. Because nothing is wrong. Everything is okay.

He dresses into a clean pair of pajamas that feel fresh from the dryer and heads straight towards the exit of the batcave, not sparing Richard or Alfred a glance as he does so.

Everything is okay. He ate something bad for lunch.

That's all.

He manages to get all the way to his bedroom without running into anyone. Cassandra and Duke must be busy tonight, and he can't think of any reason why Timothy and Jason would be here at this hour of night. It's not surprising he didn't run into anyone. Why does he almost wish he had?

He shakes his head and closes the door behind him. Whatever is making him feel this way, it will go away if he rests. He's sure of it.

Wordlessly and single-mindedly, he removes the decorative pillows from his bed and pulls down the sheets. In a few practiced and fluid movements, he's under the covers and glaring at the ceiling, his stomach clenching.

There's glow in the dark stars above him, made of plastic and held to the ceiling with fun-tak. His eyes drift to a bigger glowing figure, it's circular and there's swirling patterns that mimic the global storm of Jupiter's surface. Another has two rings, like the planet in Treasure Planet.

Richard put them up the second month after Damian first came here. Damian had expressed... desires... to study and learn how kids who weren't raised in the League of Assassins lived. Glow in the dark stars was something Richard very much enjoyed getting off of Amazon that night, saying they were all the craze when he was younger. Every friend he visited had them in their bedrooms. His own childhood bedroom still has some old and dim ones hanging on the ceiling from when he convinced his father to get him some.

He didn't understand the appeal of them then. Nor does he now. Perhaps it's something to do with children in Gotham never seeing the actual stars because of the light pollution. All he knows is that in the desert he grew up in... these fake green plastic decorations do not compare to the galaxy he used to see as if the only thing separating him from the universe was a single pane of glass.

He turns away from the fake stars, closing his eyes, before they open again to glare now at his bookshelf, filled to the brim with books of all kinds and Cheese Viking figurines. There's a collectable coin there too, one Richard accidentally won way back when he decided to buy a mystery box from some website. It turned out to be pretty rare. He gave it to Damian and Damian got curious enough to look up the game.

It's his favorite game now. Because Richard found him a random gold coin.

Richard. His stomach clenches. Why won't it stop hurting? He has no reason to be this anxious.

No reason at all.

There's a soft knock on his door. Damian shifts so he's holding himself up on his elbows, watching as the door opens to reveal none other than Richard. His hair looks damp from a shower, which makes Damian wonder how long he's been glaring at random things in his room. He's dressed in an old Gotham Knight's tee-shirt with mustard stains around the right breast. Damian went to a game with him when he was wearing that shirt. He accidentally got shoved into Richard in the crowd, looking for their seats, when Richard was holding a hotdog. It got all over him, but the mustard is the only thing that persisted multiple rounds in the washer.

"Dami? You up?" Richard asks. Damian reaches over and turns on the dim lamp by his bedside.

Richard's eyes settle on him, and he smiles. It looks strained though.

That festering, lingering anxiety spikes.

"What is it?" He asks.

Richard walks into the room, then sits down on the side of Damian's bed. Damian bends his knees to allow room for him. He brings his pillow in front of his body and hugs it.

"Did I do something wrong?"

The question shocks Damian, as he didn't mean to ask it. It seems to startle Richard as well, because he goes stock still and looks at Damian with wide eyes.

It shocks them both, but it must be the reason if a bad lunch isn't.

Then, Richard breaks into soft laughter, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was about to ask the same thing, actually," he says, once the laughter dies down.

Damian frowns. Has Richard done anything wrong?

No. The answer is immediate. Richard hasn't done a single thing wrong. He's been nothing but his usual annoying and loud and pushy and kind and loving self since his father left and he came to keep the suit warm.

It almost feels like the beginning all over again. Waking up in the morning and smelling sweetened mocha instead of straight black coffee. Sketching in the afternoons by the fireplace in the family room and being interrupted by Richard barging in with a portable speaker, blasting the newest trending pop song. Going to bed with a goodnight hug. Bandaids snuck into Alfred's first aid supply that have cartoon and Disney characters designs. He's wearing a Frozen 2 bandaid now, on his knee.

If his father hadn't left with the rest of the Justice League, the band-aid would be a normal tan color and the day would be close to silent and alone.

It's feeling normal again, he realizes with horror. Because whatever mood Richard brings into the manor isn't normal. Normal is Bruce Wayne silently checking up on him throughout the day and calmly helping him with homework and giving tips on sketching techniques. Normal is leaning against the strong shoulder of his father as he tests those tips while his father reads a book, the only sounds to interrupt them being the ticking clock on the wall and the crackling of the fire.

Normal is... Normal isn't...

It's not this. He likes the time he spends with his father. He enjoys the wordless love and reassuring squeezes to his shoulder.

Normal isn't the loudness and silliness of Richard's affection.

And just like that, he finally knows what's wrong.

It feels the same as it used to be. Back when they thought his father was dead. Back when Richard seemed to be the only trusted adult in his life, and the daily interactions he had with him almost promised to be infinite.

And then they found out his father was still alive, just stuck in time. With the help of Timothy and others... They managed to bring him back.

And.

And.

And Richard left.

And Damian was left.

And.

And that wasn't supposed to happen. Was it?

He hasn't allowed himself to think about much. It was something neither of them had acknowledged or mentioned. Richard once said he considered adopting Damian if his father was dead. Damian didn't stop himself from taking comfort in that.

And it feels like history is repeating itself. His father is away. Richard is Batman.

However, now Damian knows that the second his father returns, Richard will be packing his bags and leaving. This isn't normal. He can't get used to this again. He loves his father. But Richard...

It hurt enough the first time, watching him go.

And it will happen all over again. He'll get comfortable with Richard and his daily hugs and laughter, and then he'll be gone.

Separation anxiety. He has separation anxiety.

"Oh buddy," Richard coos, wrapping his arms around Damian and bringing him to his lap to hold him better.

He's crying. Tears are running down his face and it's stupid, because he knows that when Richard leaves again, it won't be like he'll never see him again.

But he's crying, and it hurts. Hurts more than if he had eaten something bad. He clutches to the pillow between them and let's the tears fall.

"Tell me what's wrong," Richard soothes, probably the only person in the entire universe to not freak out when he cries. Probably the only person in the entire universe Damian would allow himself to cry like this to. "What can I do to help?"

"It's stupid," Damian says, through it's through a hiccupping sob, which makes it sound very not stupid to someone like Richard. He sniffs and rubs his eyes on the pillow, forcing his breathing to go normal and to stop crying. "It's nothing. Father will come back, and- and you'll go back to Blüdhaven, and everything will be normal again."

Richard stills, then sighs. "So it's about that," he says softly. Of course he immediately knows what Damian means. He tightens his hold on Damian. "You know when your dad comes back, nothing will change between us, right? Even if we're on the opposite side of the world."

"I don't want to be on the opposite side of the world," Damian snaps, shoving himself away from Richard and glaring. "I want- I don't-" he presses his face into his pillow and groans.

Dick is silent, then he shifts closer and wraps his arm around Damian's shoulder gently. "I know. I don't either. But... it's just the way things have to be. You know this. Just like you know that... that if you ever really want to, I can clean out my guest room."

Damian shakes his head, his feelings feeling so all over the place and raw. "I just- when father came back, I didn't expect you to just leave. I don't want to choose. I-"

"I know," Richard whispers. "I know. I love Bruce. He's my dad too. But, you know us. If I move back in, we'll be at each other's throats. I'm a grown man now, Dami. I have to be on my own. He's... Protective. He still sees me as seventeen years old. And he's your father. You should be with him."

Damian sniffs. He doesn't nod. He doesn't shake his head. Agree nor disagree.

Simply understands.

It's just the way things are.

He stays silent as Richard continues. "And you know that I'll always be there for you, if you need me. I'll drop everything for you. Just say the word. I'll be running, even if I'm on the other side of the world."

Now Damian nods. Let's the cotton of his pillowcase soak up his silent tears.

He doesn't feel much better, but he doesn't feel so awful anymore either. He supposes that's the best it will get in this situation.

So he just sits there until his head begins to dip with exhaustion and Richard pulls him in so he's laying against his shoulder. His eyelids droop, and they stay there, together, like they used to.

It's scary to allow himself to become attached to things, but he can never help himself with Richard.

The best that he can do is enjoy it while it lasts, and make the most of it.

Richard will be gone when father comes home, but for now he's here, and he's warm, and he's solid.

Damian falls asleep, and Richard doesn't leave that night.

[tyrantisterror]

The ATOM Create a Kaiju Contest 3-D: Entry Roundup

You’ve been patiently waiting for the results of the ATOM Create a Kaiju Contest 3-D, and now... you have to wait a bit longer, but at least you’ve got an entry roundup with lots of sketches and a good bit of feedback for all the entrants!  My goal is to get the finalists illustrated in a week or two, and after that, the grand prize winner will be announced.  But, for now, the official entry roundup!  After the cut:

I should note that while I sketched these in the order they were submitted, my scanner saved the documents with random names, so they’re a bit jumbled.  You know, just in case you’re like me and would get confused noticing that it’s almost in chronological order but with some entries jumbled around.

@bugcthulhu’s Obsideban was designed as a counterpart to Rohobaron - the Black King to Rohobaron’s Red King, if you will.  Or, well, Black Queen in this case, as Obsideban also takes her personality from the “delinquent girl” archetype in Japanese media.  Bug’s designs always ooze personality, and I had a lot of fun translating this big, gnarly retrosaur into my own style.

@toothlessloveshiccup‘s Argonox is the first - but far from the last - monster in this breakdown that brings in a bit of fantasy influence to ATOM’s roster.  A golden-fleeced ram with a vicious streak, this sheep is both treasure and dragon at once.  And while it wasn’t written in the monster’s profile, given the Yamaneon-rich nature of its wool, Argonox might be able to replicate the healing power of the golden fleece too!  A very fun mammalian kaiju and excellent entry.

@highly-radioactive-nerd submitted Gunmetal Jeeves, a robot butler who can gigantomax temporarily create a holographic/hard light version of himself to fight kaiju.  That detail was a late revision added to the entry before the contest’s deadline, made after the creator realized that ATOM allows for some truly ludicrous bullshit, which is something everyone should exploit when making entries for this in my opinion.  Also, this is a robot butler who can size shift.  Revel in its awesome absurdity!

Ultranerd submitted Rajasaurus, a dimetrodon-like synapsid kaiju with electric powers.  His origin specifies that the electric powers are a result of the volatile nature of the Yamaneon deposits he mutated under, which is an interesting idea.  That’s another theme that cropped up a lot in this contest’s entries, actually - people really wanted to play with what Yamaneon can do.

Case in point, @polygonfighter’s Yamaneolith takes the Monolith Monsters homage at the heart of Yamaneon even more apparent.  I like the implication that there is a second mineral-based lifeform at the root of this Yamaneon cluster’s anomalous behavior - a parasite, perhaps?  It brings up some interesting possibilities.

@ariccio50 submitted Kukulkuzana, and damn is this a cool spin on the body plan of my martians.  I made a few changes here and there (splitting its tail into two is probably the biggest one), but tried to keep true to the original design, because holy hell is it gorgeous.  The idea that this is a mountain-dwelling creature is really intriguing to me, as it looks like a sea creature, but at the same time, that flexible and low-slung build WOULD work pretty well in mountains, and it’s just the right mix of plausible weirdness that makes for a fun alien design.

@akitymh submitted Aramzados, a Venusian monster that’s basically an organic hot rod car.  I like the idea of organic machinery being the gimmick for Venusian kaiju, and Aramzado’s does it subtly enough to not feel like that gimmick is the sole thing going for it.  I especially love this monster’s stange, apparently mouth-less blade-beaked face.

@virovac submitted Rurzar and Zar Rider, a Beyonder kaiju and mecha (respecitvely) that were both modified and repurposed by humans reverse engineering Beyonder technology to make, like, a motorcycle-saurus essentially.  It is a delightfully absurd concept, and a very, very detailed one (13 pages of description).  There’s a dark undercurrent beneath the sillyness, though, as this pair show that humanity might still be following the same path as the Beyonders before them.

@dinosaurana brings us Krangor, a humanoid monstrosity of living kelp!  The goal here was to create a Jack Kirby-esque monster dude, complete with the gibberish name and all.  He’s also made out of kelp, which feels very classic 1950′s monster-y despite me not being able to think of any monsters that were explicitly made of kelp.  I love him.

@kiryuthechimera submitted Genkakurah, a psychic retrosaur with some draconic features.  Though his substantial powerset is probably the biggest distinguishing feature of this kaiju (given that most ATOM kaiju pretty much have the same standard powers), what really draws me to him is that reptilian pseudo-beard.  It’s just a fun detail!

@glarnboudin submits Tiratola, and see, there’s that fantasy influence again!  Even more explicitly dragon-y than Kraydi, Tiratola still manages to toe the line between sci-fi and fantasy enough to fit ATOM as is while still cementing its ties to my own slice of fantasy fiction.  Man it’s good I’m doing a Midgaheim book next, huh?

@dragonzzilla submitted Scuttlebutt/Argonautilus, a hermit crab kaiju who lives in/with a hollowed out mecha.  That’s a twist I can’t recall ever hearing before, and the idea of a kaiju and a mecha having an equal partnership that doesn’t involve one being grafted to the other is really intriguing to me.  A very unique concept!

@evolutionsvoid submitted Fleagor, an enormous flea who has no idea what to do with itself now that there’s no creature large enough for it to parasitize.  I love that concept - it takes the core idea of the giant bug kaiju archetype (i.e. unsettling the audience by showing how terrifying small, “insignificant” creatures would be if our sizes were reversed) and really turns it on its head.  The name also plays on the Universal Monsters, who were a huge part of 1950′s pop culture thanks to their movies being re-released in that era, so all and all this one is very on brand for ATOM!

@skarmorysilver submitted Lilacorn, another entry that plays up that Midgaheim/ATOM connection.  Reinterpreting the mythological unicorn as an Cenozoic wooly rhinoceros-inspired monster gives it a very unique look, both in ATOM and in the general world of unicorns, and she has a bad-girl with a heart of gold personality to boot!

dracosaurus-rex submitted Florasaura, a two-headed plant/retrosaur hybrid monster.  I love me some plant monsters, I love me some retrosaurs, and I love me some rhyming the word “flora” with other words that contain similar vowell sounds, so this one has me written all over it!

@downtofragglerock submitted Sauroguana, a delightfully odd flying retrosaur.  There’s a great deal of charm to the original illustration that this sketch doesn’t quite capture - it’s a deceptively simple design with a lot of personality in it, and with those unique leg-wings it really doesn’t need a whole lot of frills to stand out.

Draxi submitted Brakan, an unimpressive burrowing retrosaur kaiju whose mastery of illusions allows it to convince other kaiju it’s actually a big, super-powerful badass that’s the ultimate fighter in the universe.  It’s a delightful parody of the concept of a fan self-insert god-mode character, with a really fun story built into it to boot!

@quinnred submitted O.N.I.A.C., a mysterious cocooned kaiju whose chrysalis has been turned into an organic computer of sorts by the people studying it, and seems to possess a fairly advanced intelligence for a kaiju.  It’s a really bizarre and ominous idea, with built in intrigue given how vague its nature is.  Is it just a kaijufied butterfly/moth who got stuck mid transformation?  A relative of the Mothmanuds?  Something else, perhaps equally alien?  Good story potential here.

shadyserpent submitted Vespilitor, a bat/retrosaur hybrid made by the nefarious Spooks Organization.  A mercurial prankster whose tendency to stir up trouble never crosses the line into maliciousness, he’s the kind of monster who would make a great foil to a lot of ATOM’s cast.  I’d especially like to see him in a prank off with Ahuul - it’d be like Bugs Bunny fighting Daffy Duck, but on a kaiju scale.

@multiversefan submitted the Yamaneon King, a nomadic kaiju whose refusal to settle down causes problems as he stirs up trouble at kaiju sanctuaries all over the globe by showing up unannounced and stirring up the locals.  He was basically designed to be a monster that the kaiju sanctuary initiative would struggle to deal with, which is a good idea for a post-ATOM Volume 2 story conflict.

Sir K submitted Jadeera, a kirin kaiju that can actually forcibly convert most of its body to Yamaneon to enter a dormant, statue-like state in a loose homage to King Shisa.  Though the fantasy elements are far more present than I usually prefer for ATOM kaiju, I think it should be noted they’re pushed that far for a purpose - a theme in Jadeera’s entry, which continues where its creator left off with their submission to the previous ATOM create a kaiju contest (Yokaigon), is that the world of kaiju is more complicated and challenging than many are willing to accept, which is a theme in ATOM itself.  Yokaigon’s more supernatural/occult powers are based on the ghost parascience of my setting, which ATOM has delved into a bit (Pathogen being the big example), so it’s not as out of left field as some might think.

@cerothenull​ brings us our final entry (unless some got lost thanks to tumblr’s shitty tagging system), the flying spider Naeranti.  She’s a kaiju spider who uses silk to make complicate hot-air balloons, more or less, and that’s just delightful.  ATOM could always use more spider-monsters, and with a really unique gimmick backing up a wonderfully distinct look, Naeranti is sure to stand out among her fellow giant arachnids.

Well, that’s the roundup!  In a week (or two, depending on how much my hand cramps) we’ll have the five finalists, and sometime after that, the grand prize winner!