#and i won’t be accepting asks with links either

[jjunieworld]

uhh yeah turning off anon asks for now..

[ms-demeanor]

You posted about adhd and I was hoping to follow up to clarify something. I’ve explained to my partner a million times about how the borderline-hoarding mess of his space is very mentally draining to me, and he understands but we’ve both essentially accepted he won’t clean his mess because he can’t because of his adhd. You’re saying he’s actually being a shit head?

This isn't necessarily an issue of him being a shithead, but it also isn't a sustainable situation. It's not good for you and there's a level of clutter that's probably not good for him either.

Large bastard is a lot more clutter-y than I am. The solution we've come to is trying to keep our messes at least isolated from one another; he can have his messes and I can have mine, but he can have those messes in his spaces, not all over the place. Sometimes those messes migrate, and that's when it's important for him to make the effort to rein them in rather than trying and failing to make a daily effort to keep our entire shared space tidy.

I think when you say "we've both essentially accepted he won't clean his mess" what I'm hearing is resignation; you're not happy about this but you don't know what to do so you've thrown up your hands and he feels helpless and unsure of what to do to improve the situation. This is the kind of "it's fine" that isn't really fine.

I think it would be worthwhile for you to each separately think about the mess and talk about it together. Are there areas that YOU *need* to have not-messy? Both for utility and your mental health? Are there areas where you can tolerate more mess than otherwise? Are there areas that are going to be harder for him to keep the mess out of than others? Are there things he doesn't *know* about cleaning up the mess?

I'm obviously a big "communication communication communication" person so I'm going to recommend a lot of talking about stuff, which is probably going to mean a lot of thinking about and interrogating stuff. I'm going to say "talk to him about why the mess bothers you" which means you also have to really articulate to yourself why the mess bothers you (for instance I'm not actually *bothered* by a messy kitchen, but I know it's going to reflect badly on us - and me specifically b/c of presumed gender roles - if someone pops by and the kitchen is a disaster, AND a messy kitchen is going to be harder to use). Genuinely, sometimes knowing *why* something is a problem might make it easier for someone with ADHD to do something. And it's not that he doesn't care that it upsets you, it's just that "Oh if I don't wash my breakfast dishes Anon won't have clear counterspace to make lunch" might be stickier in his brain (and less hard to look at emotionally) than "this thing I forget to do upsets my partner so I should do it."

For the record, I think that people with ADHD should read up on Demand Avoidance and see if it might explain some of the issues that they have in their day-to-day life; I've seen some really unfortunate situations with friends where trying to do things that their partner needed became the subject of demand avoidance. *I* have experienced negative outcomes of demand avoidance. The solution to that, however, isn't to stop making attempts to do the thing OR to simply try harder to do as they're asked/told (which reinforces the demand), it's to work on setting up a situation where the partners' needs are not interpreted as a demand. This is fuck-off difficult and requires a lot of patience and care and many attempts to succeed and will be different for each person and relationship.

(Also for the record demand avoidance isn't *super* strongly linked to ADHD and it's not a definitive symptom; like Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, it is something that occurs in some number of people with ADHD and can be a useful lens through which to examine various behaviors; you don't need to have DA or RSD to have ADHD, and having DA or RSD also doesn't invalidate your diagnosis; they're symptoms. For me, DA often feels like "if I don't look at it, it can't get me" - If I ignore all the messages I've got they aren't real and don't have real consequences so I'll just ignore my texts. If I don't look at the vendor email about the order, the problem with the order isn't real and it won't get added to my task list. If I don't look at the requests in my inbox I can't let people down when I don't do them. It's a self-protective coping mechanism but it's *maladaptive* and I can't just ignore the vendor email or all my texts. I need to work on a way of doing the stuff that I'm avoiding in a way that makes it less stressful and doesn't hurt the people relying on me. That takes a lot of effort, personal insight, trial and error, and )

But before I dive into specifics I want to be really really clear about one thing: sometimes people are simply incompatible. Sometimes one person has such a low tolerance for "mess" and the other person has such a high threshold for "mess" that it can't be reconciled. It sucks that this can end up being a thing that people break up over, but it is MUCH better to acknowledge incompatibility as early as possible instead of spending years and years building resentment.

There used to be a great forum called MiL's Anonymous that I spent a lot of time on. It had a lot of people in a lot of difficult situations struggling to get by and hold their relationships together. The question that was used as a litmus test to approach each situation was simple: If you knew today that everything about living with this person would be the same in five years, would you stay?

Because you can't control your partner. You can't control the future. You can only control yourself and your proximity to situations that are harmful to you. If you knew, 100%, that things wouldn't get better in five years, would you be okay with staying in this relationship? If the answer is "no," then that's that. Don't worry about questions of whether or not your boyfriend is a shithead, start the process of ending the relationship because there's a good chance the situation is going to be exactly the same in five years.

If the answer is "yes," and you'd stay in the relationship regardless of whether or not things changed, then it's time to take actions to improve your life within the context of the relationship.

(No judgement on that yes or no, btw. If you would hate living like this for another five years, and you would feel like you'd wasted your time and hadn't done the things you wanted to with your life, get out. Bail. Go. It will be better for you and better for your partner if you split instead of spending half a decade building resentments and and problems that you'll have to spend another half a decade healing from.)

Also, a note: you describe your boyfriend's mess as borderline hoarding - is the issue *mess* or is the issue *clutter*? I have friends who are very tidy, but whose homes are very cluttered. They like things, they have many things, they keep many things around, but their houses are always clean and well-dusted and orderly, just with a tremendous amount of *stuff.* I am addressing all of this as though the issue is mess, not clutter. If your boyfriend's situation is clutter (the space is busy and packed with things but it is functional and clean) and your issue isn't with *mess* (things out of place, things not having a place, things that need to be cleaned up gathering in stacks, falling behind on regular chores like laundry and dishes and taking out the trash) then you definitely need to assess whether or not you are compatible.

For instance here's a room that is messy but not cluttered compared to a room that is cluttered but not messy:

That first room is a *mess* but it would be very easy to clean up in under an hour. The second room is fairly tidy, but would take significant effort to pare down and declutter. BOTH of these can be difficult to live with but the second one is not dangerous or threatening to anyone's health. (The second one is QUITE cluttered and if every room in a house looks like this it can be overwhelming to live with; this is actually harder to deal with in a relationship than the first one in a lot of ways. I don't have a lot of advice for what to do if your partner is a high degree of tidy-but-cluttered because I don't actually think it's a problem or wrong to have thousands of books or bins full of lego or a million kitchen appliances as long as you have the space and can keep it safe and well-maintained; this is a really significant compatibility issue)

Okay, all that out of the way, here's the hard work.

Talk about this shit

Talk to your partner and define "mess." Make sure you are on the same page about what you mean when you're talking about what a messy room looks like versus what a tidy room looks like. Gather reference pictures. DRAW reference pictures.

Explain not just that the mess upsets you, but *why* and *how* it upsets you. In this context don't think of it as your boyfriend's mess, think of it as an unpleasant roommate. Discuss this using "I-statements". "When I have to pick up laundry all over the apartment, I feel like a parent more than a partner." "When there are piles of miniatures all over the table, I feel like I don't have anywhere to do things I'm interested in." "When there are dishes in the sink, I feel frustrated because I have to clean before I can feed myself."

Discuss, frankly and openly, whether he knows how to clean. I'm not trying to make excuses for him here but a lot of people with ADHD have a lot of stress and avoidance around cleaning because they spent a lot of time getting yelled at for not knowing how to clean properly.

Discuss your needs, be firm about what you require but willing to compromise. You *need* some spaces to be clean, and some spaces may be harder for him to keep clean than others. It may be MUCH harder for him to keep a bedroom tidy than it is to keep a kitchen tidy; if you need a clean and empty bedroom with everything put away and he simply cannot do that, that is a compatibility issue. But perhaps you need *your* side of the bedroom to be very orderly and can tolerate a moderate level of mess and clutter on his side. Maybe you're really really bothered by a messy kitchen, but it doesn't bug you if the dining table is covered with projects and papers. Figure out something more workable than "his mess goes everywhere and i live with it because he's incapable of cleaning" because he probably is not incapable of cleaning and you deserve to have places in your home that are comfortable for you.

Reduce friction for cleaning

Sometimes the problem isn't cleaning, the problem is the many many steps before cleaning, or not knowing where something should go when you are done cleaning. One of the absolute best things I've done for myself for cleaning my space is getting a broom holder and mounting the broom to the wall. Sweeping is now essentially thoughtless. I don't have to find the broom or pull it out from a pile of fans or go scrounging around for a dustpan it's right there on the wall, frictionless. So here are some ways to reduce the barriers to cleaning:

Make sure you and your partner both know how to use your cleaning supplies and know where those supplies are. When I switched dishwasher soap I had to re-show Large Bastard where I was storing it and how it was used, because to him what happened was the dishwasher tabs just vanished one day and he didn't know what I was putting in the machine or the process I used. He sometimes puts tools away in places that I can't see (he's more than a foot taller than me) so sometimes I can't get started on a maintenance project until he shows me where he put the battery pack for the drill.

Consider making a how-to chart to or having him make a how-to chart to keep someplace accessible so he can reference it while cleaning. Goblin.Tools Magic ToDo is great for this. Basically a lot of the time people with ADHD have trouble knowing what to do from step to step even if they've done something before, so having a step by step guide can make it easier (I have notebooks full of step-by-step guides for everything from paying for my tuition to removing licenses for my customers to weeding my yard)

Remove obstacles; don't keep cleaning chemicals in the garage in a box that's behind a stack of parts, keep them in the room you'll be cleaning. Don't keep the cleaning supplies that you use to clean the bathroom in the kitchen. Sometimes this means buying two bottles of bleach solution and two scrubbers and two sets of cleaning gloves but having fewer steps (fetch the windex, fetch the paper towels, fetch the gloves) is often the key to getting things done (open under-sink cabinet and grab windex, gloves, and paper towels that are there instead of in the kitchen).

This sort of overlaps with the next category, which is:

Create Dump Zones

One thing that I've found that seems very different between people with ADHD cleaning and neurotypical people cleaning is that neurotypical people are good at getting to a point where the cleaning is "done." They have checked off their tasks and they have finished and it is over. There are *SOME* chores that are like this (taking out the trash is a binary state, the trash has been taken out or it has not) and some chores are perpetual (horrid cursed dishes) but I think with people with ADHD, some chores that are binary for neurotypicals are actually perpetual chores. For instance "clean off the counter" is not a one and done for me. "Clean off the counter" may involve a three day reorganization project. "Clean off the counter" does not mean "wipe down the tile and put dishes away" it means assessing whether or not I need to make vegetable stock and bleaching three tea containers and reconsidering whether or not the sharps container should live somewhere else and going through the mail and figuring out what needs to be responded to and taking out the recycling and on and on and on.

We have had company at the house for the last two weeks, so I asked large bastard to clean off the dining room table, which is largely a project zone for him. Cleaning off the dining room table meant putting away his meds (and since he's a transplant patient that involves a 30 gallon rubbermade tote), throwing away some trash, and totally reorganizing his workshop. It also incidentally involved picking up a table from facebook marketplace and moving my plants, which has now involved moving my former plant rack outside (moving buckets, finding and organizing planters and gardening tools) and taking the former table to the thrift store (not done yet) and cleaning the rug that was under the former table. So "either the table is clean, or it isn't" isn't really true for us.

HOWEVER "hang on we can't eat until the table is clear so let's drive to Pico Rivera to get that console table right now" isn't a workable plan, so you create dumpzones as areas of holding between the start and the finish of the chore.

A dump zone can be a laundry basket. It can be a craft bin. It can be a back room or under your bed. It is a place to put things that you are going to deal with later because if you deal with them now it is going to derail the thing you are actually trying to do, which is set the table for dinner.

Dump zones are vital to cleaning with ADHD and I recommend them for day-to-day cleaning as well. The day-to-day dump zones might be more for you than for your boyfriend. For instance, Large Bastard works with bullets and he sheds bullets all over the house. I used to get stressed when I found bullets when I was cleaning because are these work bullets? Are these recreational bullets? Are they in testing? Do they need to be pulled? Do they go in the workshop or the office or the garage or does he need these today so they have to stay on the counter? And the answer now is "that's not my problem naughty bullets go in the jar." Which is perfectly sensible because he gets to say "mystery yarn goes in the bin" and "art supplies go in the bucket."

I feel helpless when cleaning a lot of the time. I'm frustrated and lost and I don't know where stuff goes and everything I pick up spins off into three projects in my head and every step feels like a wall to scale. Dump zones help me with that when there's pressure or a reason for cleaning beyond day to day home maintenance. People are coming over? The bedroom is a dump zone, I'll deal with that later. I'm just cleaning up because I need to? Okay I can find a permanent home for this new dish soap.

AS A VERY IMPORTANT COROLLARY TO THIS:

Active projects do not go in dump zones while you or your partner are cleaning. This may mean designating a project sanctuary area like a corner of the table or one particular chair in your main room where a project can be placed so as not to be disturbed. (if my current crochet project ends up in the yarn bin, that may mean that I don't pick the project up for another three months, it lives on the windowsill behind the couch because that's where it'll get worked on)

Do not put things away for your partner, put them in the dump zone for your partner. Your partner has to be the one to put their own stuff away in a way that works for them. I tend to find that this naturally puts a limit on the time stuff sits in the dump zone, because eventually you'll go "hey where's my thing?" and will put stuff away. If that doesn't happen, it's still generally better to have stuff in a dump zone than all over the home.

Do not decide you know what things go together from your partner's stuff and try to "put like things together." The neurotypical urge to put like things together is the mindkiller(j/k). You do not know which things are "similar" in your partner's organization schema and attempting to organize things on your own is going to end up with all of the things "organized" being functionally lost forever from your partner's perspective. Large Bastard's mom would do this and it was infuriating, she'd say "oh I put all the electronics stuff in one box" and she would mean soldering irons, transistors, ham radios, HDMI cables, and cellphone chargers. We are *still* going through boxes of stuff that she "tidied up" when he was hospitalized in 2020 and 2021.

To prevent the need for quite so many dump zones over time, you can work on setting up landing zones and "homes" for projects and tools.

Landing Zones

Landing zones are places where things go when you come inside from doing various things. Sometimes your landing zone only needs to be a tray for your wallet and keys, sometimes your landing zone needs to be a place to take off muddy boots and put a trowel and gloves down before you shower.

To make an effective landing zone, consider what behaviors you're trying to minimize and whether the people using it are ACTUALLY going to use it. For instance I was tired of the corner of my hearth getting cluttered with random junk so I hung up some hooks and put a shelf and a basket there and it became a really effective landing zone for my bag and keys and the mail, but it was VERY ineffective for Large Bastard because it's by a door that isn't the primary door he uses to enter the house. As a result I always know where my keys and bag are but he has trouble finding his keys and wallet. He tends to enter the house through our bedroom and has an overloaded valet next to the door and that's usually where his wallet ends up. Mounting a shelf to the wall above the valet and putting a basket and a hook on it will be a better place for his stuff to land. It's not that he's not using the first zone because he doesn't know that it's there, or because he doesn't care about lost time when I'm searching for my car keys after he borrows them, he's not using it because it's not by the door he uses. That's all.

I have a landing space for when I come in for gardening that's different than the one when I come in from grocery shopping. I have a landing space for when I walk into the dining room instead of the kitchen when I get home.

Landing spaces prevent stuff from piling up all over the place because they are a limited functional space that should be used frequently. Mail ONLY goes in the landing zone. If you have mystery mail or if you're not sure it's safe to toss, you put it in the landing zone. You can't let the mail get piled up too high or you won't have a space for your keys. You can't let the change in your wallet tray get too deep or your wallet is going to slide off, etc., but you also don't just put change on the coffee table or your nightstand because the landing zone is right there.

Homes for items are just what they sound like. They're the place the item goes. It lives there. My meds live on my nightstand. You would not believe how poorly I did with taking my meds on my vacation because they weren't on my nightstand. A while back large bastard lost one of his sets of sorted meds and we tore the house up looking for them because he couldn't find them in his nightstand, which is where they live. *I* found them in his nightstand because I emptied out the entire top drawer (he had only looked on the top layer) and found them underneath a radio and a hammock. Even though they were *hidden* they were in their home, so they were findable. I recently needed ink for an art class. Art supplies live in a dresser by my desk. Ink lives in the art bin or the top left drawer. The ink was not in either of these places (it was on a cabinet in the dining room behind a teacup) so it took me weeks to find it.

Sometimes the reason that ADHD spaces are so messy is because objects have been assigned homes in places that are visible and if they get moved they get lost. This is a genuinely difficult problem that requires a lot of effort to solve and can involve a lot of trial and error for creating a tidy living space. For some people, open shelving and visible storage might be a good solution. For some people, assigning a VERY clear home and inculcating that location by habit is the only way to clean up a space. For some people one very cluttered corner to at least isolate the chaos does the trick (for me and large bastard open shelving doesn't work because anything in one place for too long becomes invisible; that means that I rely on assigning things homes and large bastard relies on having contained chaos and a general idea of where to search but what that DOES NOT mean is that he is clean or tidy. His spaces look like an explosion. But he can mostly find his stuff and do what he needs to do and as long as that's limited to specific places in shared spaces I can live with it; the dining room table can be a disaster, the kitchen cannot).

People organize things differently. It often takes a while for neurotypical adults to settle into an organizational style that works for them and ADHD adults may need to settle into a new system every few months for it to continue working. The cleanup and declutter is most likely going to be a permanent project that is always going to demand some level of attention from everyone in a shared space, but "my ADHD means I can't do it" is not really going to fly. Maybe his ADHD means that he can't keep his space tidy, but it doesn't mean you can't move stuff from shared spaces into dump zones or that he can't do stuff around the house.

If he's insisting that his ADHD means that he can't clean it is possible that he's not being a shithead, he just feels helpless and doesn't know where to start and has adopted the belief that he's a useless piece of shit who can't even keep a tidy space like a grownup because he's internalized a lot of shitty attitudes (hello, my internal monologue about keeping a clean house). But it's also possible that he's just being a shithead.

It's something that's worthwhile to investigate with him. If he's unwilling to make an attempt, then he's being a shithead.

It is also not your responsibility to rehabilitate another person. If he wants to clean and it's something he feels bad about and needs some help and support with the way that someone might need help or support for learning to use a mobility aid, that is fine but you don't have to be the one who gives him that support if it's detrimental to your health, and you don't have to be the one to teach him that stuff if it's not something you're capable of. And if he is NOT interested in working on making your shared living space more accessible for you, that is not your suitcase to unpack and you just have to ask yourself the question from the start: would I stay with this person if I knew the situation was never going to change?

IDK, I'm sure a lot of this reads like "anon you must take on the emotional labor of training your partner to be an adult" but it's really meant to be more of a way of assessing yourself and your relationship. If you created landing zones do you think he'd use them? Would he get angry if you assigned a laundry basket as a dump zone for his stuff while you tidy the living room? Is living with him long-term going to be comfortable for you if nothing changes? Do you have enough of a shared definition of "mess" that you're at least in the ballpark for what counts as a clean house?

anyway good luck, and a reminder to folks that I'm compiling a bunch of adhd resources and other information on my personal website, ms-demeanor.com. It's coming along slowly but it will eventually include stuff like ADHD cleaning tips and how to tackle a hoard, so maybe keep your eye on that space.

[thecraftydragonc]

Hello everyone, I am opening up donation commissions! Specifically for these donation drawings the cause I want to focus on is the ongoing genocide and humanitarian crisis in Palestine. It is more important than ever to donate to help Palestinians as Israel's attacks only get worse by the hour. It may be easy to feel disconnected from something happening on the other side of the world, or that there’s nothing you can do to help. However, even just a small act of kindness can change someone's life. I know this small donation campaign won’t single handedly change the world, but I am hoping it can be that small act of kindness that someone needs right now. 

So, how will this Donations for Drawings campaign work? It’s pretty simple, you donate to a cause that helps Palestinians and I will draw something for you! The more you donate, the better the drawing will be, but no donation is too small! This campaign will run for 2 weeks from 5/29 to 11:59pm PST on 6/12. Additionally the campaign won’t end until we reach the goal of at least $100 in donations (but we can go over the $100 goal in the 2 week timeline). I am accepting donations to family fundraisers, eSims, and donations to organizations/charities, however escape funds and eSims are a priority right now. If you need help figuring out where to donate, here are some options. This isn’t every fundraiser out there but it’s a good place to start.

Family Fundraisers (These are all vetted fundraisers): Gaza Funds (If you’re having trouble deciding on a family to donate to this site will automatically suggest a fundraiser when you open it) Operation Olive Branch Help Gaza Gaza Evacuation Relief Fund fundsforgaza | Instagram | Linktree

eSims: https://gazaesims.com/

Organizations/Charities: PCRF CareForGaza Supporting Displaced Families in Gaza https://piousprojects.org/campaign/2680 State of Palestine | World Food Programme Doctors Without Borders The National Emergency Appeal: Medical Aid for Palestinians Crips for eSims for Gaza | Chuffed | Non-profit charity and social enterprise fundraising (if you can’t donate an eSim yourself you can donate here)

Once you donate you need to send proof of your donation to me. This can be done through a direct message or this google form https://forms.gle/bUzTb4bgCefc3Wec8. Proof of donation should include a timestamp, what type of donation you made, and how much you donated. Please remove or blackout any personal identification or banking information. Also, specifically for eSim donations you must also show that you forwarded the eSim to gazaesims@gmail.com. I am only accepting donations made during 5/29 or later.

For the drawings themselves, I am up for drawing anything (though I’m best at drawing dragons), Oc’s or Canon characters, just nothing that is NSFW, gore, or has hateful imagery. In your message please include a link to the character's profile (like a toyhouse page or wiki for canon characters) and/or include a reference image. The more you donate the better the drawing will be! Images of Palestinian solidarity can also be included in the drawing for free if you’d like, just specify that in your message. Additionally, these drawings will likely be posted to promote this donation campaign as well as donating to Palestinian causes in general. I can either tag you in these uploads or you can remain anonymous if you wish. 

Thank you for reading all of the info for the donation commission! If you have any questions feel free to ask.

Additionally, if you want to help Palestinians but unfortunately can’t donate, there are still so many ways you can help! You can participate in boycotts https://bdsmovement.net/get-involved/what-to-boycott, do your daily click https://arab.org/click-to-help/palestine/, call and email your representatives to demand a ceasefire, and keep yourself educated by listening to Palestinian voices and learning from resources like https://decolonizepalestine.com/.

[l0serloki]

Early Mornings

(Chamber, Yoru, Phoenix, Breach)

A/N : There will be a part two to this with the valorant women. I'm finishing it up now and will link it here when it's done!

masterlist + part two

Chamber :

He’s quick to get up but very handsy. He knows you both need to get dressed but he can’t help himself.

“You’re too tempting mon amour. You cannot blame me.” 

He will help you get dressed as well if you ask. He enjoys picking things out for you to wear. (He also enjoys taking them off later in the day.)

Very soft and gentle. It’s only deserving for his little love.

Chamber’s warm hands rubbed against your cheek as his voice filled the silence. You groaned as you knew the daily routine he had set by now.

“Darling, you know you have to wake up.” He slowly peeled you back away from his embrace, your eyes adjusting as you woke up. In the past you had hated getting out of bed. It was cold and miserable and only meant you had to get up and actually do things. But with Chamber it hadn’t been as bad.

“There we are.” The Frenchman cooed into your ear as he helped you sit up, his palms digging into your shoulders. Your body relaxed against his touch as he eased you further up and to the side of the bed. 

“Would you like me to get you some clothes?” His voice was soft as he finally stood up, leaning down to leave a kiss against your forehead. You only nodded as you stretched out. 

His nimble hands slid on your top, leaning down to give you a kiss every time he had to move you. You only smiled as you enjoyed the intimacy. He could’ve dressed you up in a clown suit and it would’ve been worth it. 

Yoru :

He will be cranky. And complain about his ‘personal heater’ leaving him. (He will pull you back into bed multiple times before getting up.)

Half the time he won’t get up. He will convince you that any obligations either of you had are not worth it. Why would he bother with other people anyways?

When he does get up he will mumble curses under his breath. He will be grumpy for another two hours before he fully wakes up.

“Don’t.” Yoru grunted as your hand moved up his chest to wake him up. Turns out, the grumpy man was already sentient.

“Baby you know we need to get up. We promised Phoenix to help him on that mission today..” You whispered out and he turned to face you. Yoru’s arm wrapped around your torso, forcing you into his chest. You accepted your fate as you got comfortable against him.

“When have I ever listened to Phoenix?” He chided as his grip got even tighter. It would be futile to fight with him so you might as well get a bit more sleep....

Phoenix :

“Babe, five more minutes..” 

It’s never five more minutes and if you don’t drag him out of bed.. he will oversleep.

Once you finally pull him out of bed he’s full of life. He’s jumping around and pulling you against him as he presses kisses to your cheeks.

“Phoenix we have a mission today..” You groan as you smack your pillow into the man's head. He only grunted in response, throwing up his hand to give you a sarcastic middle finger.

“The mission isn’t for like six hours babe.” Phoenix rolled over, rubbing his palms against his eyes. You only let out an annoyed sigh.

“Try two. We still haven’t gotten our guns ready either.” 

Phoenix’s eyes widen a bit as you tell the time. His hands move to push himself out of the comfortable sheets.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? We’ve got to get ready!” He pulled you in for a chaste kiss before hopping up.

Breach :

He snores and does not wake up easily. 

You could push him off the bed and he most likely would still be asleep. It’s almost unnatural. 

When he does wake up he stretches out and sits in bed for a few minutes before he does anything. Usually he pulls you into his chest and lays his head on top of yours. (It’s one of his favorite things about waking up.)

“How the hell are you not awake?” You groan as Breach lays face first against the ground. His snores echo in the room as you climb off the bed and pull him back up.

“Huh?” The man finally seems to be jostled awake as you struggle to pull him back into the sheets. 

“We have to get up!” You choke out as he falls against you, pushing his weight onto your chest. He only gives you a little grin as he pecks at your chin.

“Do we? Why don’t you push me off?” He teased as he buried his nose in the crook of your neck. You couldn’t possibly get rid of him when he was this needy.

[canarysage]

PSDs For Dummies <3

— as written by a dummy

hello dear readers and welcome back to canarysage, the world’s least comprehensive tutorial blog. today, we’re back at it again with photopea for dummies, and we’re tackling something i probably should have done first: psds.

example psds are: 1 (@cutesiplushi) 2 (@didlivio) & 3 (@lumieron)

what is a psd?

excellent question, dear reader! psd stands for photoshop document, and it’s a type of file format (like .png or .gif) that allows you to store a project’s individual layers! it’s a file format that, for obvious reasons, is exclusive to photoshop and photopea.

in editing circles, psd has become shorthand for filter. people use psds to save configurations of adjustment layers that are then used to filter images consistently, without having to remake them every time. when someone posts a psd, they’re posting a folder (hopefully it’s in a folder) with their specific set of adjustment layers for anyone to use!

where can i get psds?

right here on tumblr! check your favorite edit blogs, as they may have posted some, or search ‘free psd’ or ‘psd coloring’ in the search function. tumblr doesn’t allow you to upload psds directly, so you’ll be redirected to a site outside tumblr. probably either deviantart, google drive, or ko-fi, all of which are easy to use. deviantart requires you to have an account to download anything (luckily, an account is free!) and ko-fi may require you to pay money. google drive doesn’t have a search function in and of itself, but it’s extremely easy to download off of.

also, shameless self plug, but i post psds right here on canarysage! i personally use deviantart, but again, an account is free. if send me an ask, i may be able to provide you with a google drive link, if you ask really nicely (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

and of course if you don’t want to use someone else’s psd, you can always make your own.

how do i use a psd?

once you have a psd of your choice downloaded, open up photopea! or photoshop, if you’re rich like that.

once you open photopea, click this here button right in the middle of the screen, the one that says “open from computer”

from there, go to choose files and open up your psd! depending on from whom you got it, psds will look different once you open them. i’m using one of my own as an example.

you can see there’s two layers in my psd, a folder, and an image. the image is just for me so i know which psd this is once i save it—i like to save all my psds with images of real people so i know how it looks on moodboards or stimboards.

the folder is the important part here, that’s where the adjustment layers are contained. to transfer a psd, you can either go to file > new

which lets you start an entirely new project, or you can open an image using file > open

which will give you the image you selected.

as an aside, if you’re opening a psd and you already have a project in progress, make sure to click file > open and not file > open & place, as open & place won’t give you the adjustment layers.

then to move the folder, go to layer > duplicate layer into while having selected the folder (just tap on it, that will make it a lighter gray to show it’s selected) and duplicate the folder into whatever your image is

i’m moving mine to a random image of honami i found which is why it’s named like that. once the folder’s duplicated into your project, go over and take a look!

you should now see something like this! ensure that the folder is on top, as otherwise the adjustment layers won’t work.

here’s the difference between the unfiltered image and the image with my psd!

to save images in photopea (like i did just now) go to file > export as > (your preferred file format)

which will pull up something like this

i recommend either saving as a png (for still images) or as a gif (for… gifs) but that’s up to you! in order to save a psd, go to file > save as psd! that will save your project to your device

bear in mind that tumblr doesn’t accept psds as a file format, so if you’re going to post an edit, you have to save it as something else. also, don’t just save other people’s psds and claim them as your own—psds take a lot of time, effort, and skill, like any other art form.

can i make my own psds?

100% yes! i can’t give you a step-by-step process unfortunately, as there really is no one way to make psds. i recommend familiarizing yourself with adjustment layer and seeing what works.

shameless self plug again, but you can check out my other posts in this series to find out about some of the adjustment layers!

basically, i like to think of adjustment layers as a few different categories. light/darkness adjustments (ie: brightness/contrast, levels, curves, exposure, black & white, and threshold to a certain extent.) saturation adjustments (vibrance, hue/saturation.) color adjustments (hue/saturation, color balance, photo filter, channel mixer, selective color, gradient map depending on how you use it, and replace color.) and also, miscellaneous (posterize, which gives your images a pop-art crunchy kind of effect, invert, which… inverts your colors, and color lookup, which is a set of filters unto itself)

how you utilize adjustment layers is up to you! i personally like to use a variety and see what happens, my personal favorites being channel mixer, photo filter, and hue/saturation. you can also utilize blending modes (shameless self plug again,) or opacity.

if you have no idea where to start, you can look at other people’s psds to see their process. don’t copy or steal, for obvious reasons, but you can toggle layers on and off and see what happens and what each layer does.

making psds isn’t as intimidating as it sounds, you just have to start a project and start creating! it gets really fun once you get the hang of it (*'▽'*)

i don’t edit with photoshop or photopea, can i still use psds?

short answer: nope!

long answer: if you want use psds but you’re super used to ibis paint or whatever you currently use, have no fear! you don’t have to switch all your editing to photopea. you can make your main project in ibis or whatever as normal, then upload it to photopea and add a psd.

you can also make perfectly fine filters in ibis paint in your own right, with enough tweaking. there’s also apps such as polarr and picsart which come with filters, but i’ve never used them so i’m unable to vouch for how they work.

do i need to use psds when editing?

nope! psds are 100% optional. they’re a style like anything else—some people prefer them and some people don’t. it’s up to you.

did you genuinely write 1178 words answering questions no one asked?

yep.

what if i have a question you didn’t answer?

feel free to shoot me an ask! i don’t mind explaining further, and i promise i don’t bite. as with anything, this is just meant to explain to anyone who needs assistance—photopea for dummies by a dummy, after all. we can be confused together!

are you done now?

i am! congratulations for reading this far!

yours truly, canarysage

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for Jan behind the cut; Clark wakes up alive. ( chrono || non-chrono )

Clark doesn’t look towards the wall. 

“No,” he agrees slow and careful as he makes himself keep his eyes on Dubbilex. “I don’t want to compromise either of the projects.” 

Guardian–hesitates, and Desmond bristles. 

“Of course not,” Dubbilex replies, perfectly calm and easy. His expression is just as perfectly neutral as before, and his hands are linked behind his back. He’s all alien blankness, as if he weren’t miles closer to being genetically human than Clark could ever claim to be. Someone who could never walk out of this lab with his real face visible and ask for the public to accept him the way they’ve accepted Superman. 

The way they’ve accepted Superman’s face. 

Faces. 

Dubbilex set the fire, Clark remembers. The first time . . . Dubbilex set the fire that got Conner out, the first time. 

And Dubbilex is the one who said all genomorphs were brothers, according to Conner.

“Of course not,” Clark agrees again just as slow and careful, because their brother is so, so small in his arms and has never seen the sun or the moon or even the damn sky before. Because he’s never seen Kansas, never seen Metropolis; never seen the entire Earth from the atmosphere, all together and all at once. All singular and perfect and the same, no matter who or what was on it. 

All that this Conner has ever seen is whatever sorry excuse for a biased education and cold indoctrination Desmond and Luthor and the Light saw fit to shove into his head, none of which they intended to let him draw his own conclusions about or experiences from or actually think about. None of which they made real for him. 

None of which they let him live for himself. 

And behind the wall he isn’t looking at, there’s another boy with Conner’s face who they tried to do the exact same thing to, and then shoved into storage like a thing when they couldn’t. 

Clark thinks of Conner’s long-ago report, and of all the frustrated grief in-between the clinical words and flat, neutral phrasing. He thinks of every single hurt or lost thing Conner ever tried to keep, and how he couldn’t keep anything in the end. He thinks . . . 

Dubbilex is perfectly calm. Perfectly easy. Perfectly neutral. 

Or at least as neutral as that long-ago report where Conner had tried his best and done all he could, but couldn’t do a single thing for Project Match. 

Couldn't do anything for him. Ever. 

“If you wouldn't mind showing me the way into his room,” Clark says. “I don't want to cause any unnecessary property damage.”

“You’re not causing any damage, and you’re not going anywhere else in this lab! Put down the project and leave now!” Desmond snarls, storming up to him and jabbing a finger in his direction again. Clark turns just enough to keep himself between the man and Conner–and the G-gnome, too. Which–do they have a name, actually? He’s not sure when the G-gnomes and G-trolls started naming themselves. Not sure if they always did, or started later, or . . . 

Dubbilex is watching him very, very closely, he notices. 

“Dr. Desmond,” Clark says as evenly as he can as Conner shrinks down smaller inside his cape, keeping his face hidden against his chest. “You’re clearly misunderstanding this situation. You aren’t in charge here. If it’s up to me, you won’t be in charge of so much as a book club by the end of the day. So it’s up to you if you want to cooperate or if you want to explain yourself to the legal system as a hostile witness.” 

“You’re the one who’s going to need to explain himself, you arrogant bastard!” Desmond says furiously. 

“Sir–” Guardian attempts to interject, still sounding unsure, and Desmond whips around and glares at Dubbilex. 

“Do your fucking JOB!” he roars at him. 

Dubbilex doesn’t so much as tilt his head. 

“Of course, Dr. Desmond,” he says, and then reaches out to the nearest console and taps a single key without taking his eyes off Desmond, and nothing else. Something whirs in the walls, the sound audible to even baseline human hearing. “Project Match may be accessed through here, Superman.” 

Desmond turns absolutely white with fury and immediately throws himself at him with a furious, barely-coherent volley of curses. 

Technically, Clark is perfectly aware that Dubbilex has telepathic powers and can handle that situation himself, if he chooses to. Desmond’s just a baseline human without the Blockbuster formula in his veins, and not a particularly fit or well-trained one. He’s an unarmed scientist who works a desk job in a dark underground lab, lives a largely sedentary lifestyle, and makes other people do his dirty work. 

But also, if Clark can’t put goddamn fear into the bastard, taking the opportunity to embarrass him a little is a fair compromise, he thinks, and sticks a foot into Desmond’s path. Desmond trips right over it with another curse and hits the floor face-first, all the air audibly getting knocked out of him. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Doctor,” Clark lies. “Are you alright?” 

He is not sorry. 

“Ba–bastard,” Desmond wheezes, trying to shove himself back up. 

“Oh, bless your heart,” Clark replies with both perfectly polite sweetness and more frost in his voice than the ice breath could even dream to match. Then he steps over Desmond and walks over to Dubbilex’s side to glance towards the door that’s opened in the wall, not quite certain how to proceed. Conner is one thing, but Match . . . 

Match was never . . . 

Clark never knew Match, before. Never met him; never even saw him in person. He doesn’t know if he can be trusted, or if he’s even enough of a person to really be a person. He didn’t know him, and as far as he knows Match wasn't even in any place to know himself. Assuming, again, that there’s even a real “himself” in there to be known either way. 

But Dubbilex set the fire, last time. 

And this time he’s opened a door. 

So Clark adjusts his grip on Conner, and goes through it. 

He reacted badly to Conner once too, he reminds himself. Because of his own doubts and fears and things he didn’t know. Because of what he didn’t understand and wasn’t prepared to handle. Because he’d been violated and taken it out on the wrong person. 

Because he was just afraid. 

He knows better than to do that again. 

Match’s room is his pod and the systems keeping him locked in unchanging stasis inside it and nothing else. Dubbilex steps in behind him, and Clark can hear Guardian attempting to reason with Desmond, still sounding disoriented but doing an impressive job of holding firm and resolute despite that. 

Clark looks into the pod. Match looks exactly like the original version of Conner always did, both the first and second-to-last time Clark ever saw him. 

(he doesn’t like to think about how he looked the LAST time.)

“Project Match should not be awakened,” Dubbilex says, but doesn’t elaborate past that. Clark wonders how much the man knows about what he knows. Wonders if he should be concerned about that. 

But Dubbilex set the fire, before, so maybe he doesn’t need to be. 

Maybe. 

Clark is very good at trusting people because he has the room to be good at trusting people, but sometimes it’s harder than others. With Conner in his arms small and vulnerable and alive, it’s even harder than “sometimes”. 

He keeps his eyes on Match, and doesn’t think about how Conner looked the last time. 

His face was just the same, though. 

Conner’s fist tightens in Clark’s cape, and Clark glances down at him again. Conner’s staring up at Match, his eyes very, very wide. Clark wonders what he’s thinking, but isn’t sure what to actually tell him about this. 

Maybe bringing him in here was a mistake. 

He couldn’t have left him out there with Desmond, though, so there wasn’t much else he could’ve done. 

. . . ‘El’? appears in Clark’s head as a guarded little question. Conner looks just barely uncertain, and is still staring at Match’s–no. Not his face. 

He’s looking at the stark red El crest on Match’s solar suit. 

And–well. Clark did tell him that, didn’t he. 

“Yes,” he agrees carefully. “That’s the El crest too.” 

Conner stares at Match’s crest for another long moment, then looks up at Clark. 

hope, appears in his head, not quite a question this time but still something resembling one. 

“Yes,” Clark agrees again, and keeps his tone just as careful. 

we all . . . wear it, comes into his head, slow and hesitant, and Conner touches his own chest with a much, much smaller hand than he ever had before. Than he ever remembered having before. 

Clark thinks of all the worst-case scenarios, and a few even worse ones, and–

Clark–exhales, and then smiles down at Conner. 

“Yes,” he says. “We do.”

[depressopax]

Hi!!! if it's okay (and if your request is still open) I was wondering if I could request a fluff scenario for Jimmy McGill? :D where he gets all soft and loving sjdjdj can be both sfw and nsfw ... thank you !! ♡

Thank you for the request!!! <3 Been meaning to write about Jimmy for quite a while, so this was the perfect sign to do it lmaooo I was gonna do a NSFW too but realized that the SFW version was at 1K word already 💀 Will do a part 2 tho!  Oh well, enjoy these cheesy Jimmy headcanons 🥹🫶

Jimmy McGill relationships headcanons

Fandom - Breaking Bad/Better call Saul

Jimmy x gn!reader || SFW HC's

Pairing: Jimmy McGill/Saul Goodman x gender-neutral reader Genre: Fluff, headcanons Warning(s): None that I can think off?? Cuss words maybe, slightly angsty Jimmy lol. Reader is gender-neutral and referred to as "partner" and gn!pet-names. Words: 1.1K Summary: Being in a relationship with Jimmy McGill would include... English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 || AO3 link || Masterlist || Request || NSFW version ||

Jimmy is not good at figuring out his feelings.

That’s why it took him a while to realize he’d fallen in love with you. 

It’d take some time for him to accept what he’s feeling though.

Homeboy would be in denial at first. He’s scared to fall in love with someone, in fear of commitment and getting hurt etc…

But he’d show interest in other ways, without realizing it himself.

We’re talking about cheesy stuff: - Always looking good (and that’s not so difficult, HE GORGEOUSSSSS 👀) - Trying to impress you with his knowledge about things - Making sure to say something funny and make others laugh when you’re around, to let you know how funny and amazing he is lol - Compliments and teasing 

Noticing his attempt, you straight up ask him about it. “...Do you like me, Jimmy?” “What?? I-” … “Yes. I do.”

Once it’s said and done, he eventually asks you out on a date.

Listen… Jimmy may be overconfident, especially when it comes to his seduction skills

However, there’s something about you that makes him nervous.

What you think about him and how he comes across matters to him.

That’s why he plans a date weeks ahead, trying to make everything perfect

He tries figuring out what you like and dislike so he can use that to make a good impression. 

He takes you out to some fancy restaurant (RIP early season Jimmy’s wallet 😭)

The date goes well and he is very smug with his effort.

After a few dates, Jimmy realizes he’s fallen for you.

At first he tries to hide it. He doesn’t want to come across as “desperate” or “needy”. 

But then again… He’s not good at hiding his true feelings.

Luckily, you feel the same and eventually you become a couple for real. 

He was the first one to say “I love you”, and did so without realizing it.

You were leaving for work or something and he just goes: “Bye, love ya!” Completely flustered when he heard what he just said.

When you say it back, he feels a wave of relief. 

After that, he makes sure to say ILY as often as he can.

He won’t shut up about you. Like ever. 

“So then my partner said…” “My partner brought me this shirt!” “I’m taking my babe out on a date tonight” And everyone else will eventually be like: 😐”Shut up”😐

He’ll refer to you as his spouse/wife/husband, watching everyone confused “You’re married?” “I will be soon” 🤭

Jimmy’s a sucker for cute pet names. And yeah, some of them are probably “cringe” but that won’t stop him 

Baby, Boo, Sugar, Sweetie, Hot stuff, Doll, Kitten (😭)

He loves it when you wear his shirts. Especially as lounge clothing or when sleeping.

Jimmy also finds matching outfits adorable. 

Would probably take you shopping for either suits/blazers or just hoodies that you can match. 

He also buys matching jewelry, towels, morning robes etc etc… He’s one of those guys 😭

He has a picture of you standing on the desk in his office, as a way to carry the sweetheart with him all the time. 

…And also to brag about you to anyone that enters his office (but he puts the picture away when dealing with some of his unpredictable clients, homeboy is overprotective)

Speaking of being overprotective: He deals with a lot of shady people, so he’s very careful with who he chooses to trust when it comes to talking his love to you.

He prioritizes your safety over anything else. 

Ofc he’s scared for his own safety too, but pretty much puts it aside to make sure you’re safe first off. 

If danger comes up, he’d make sure to find somewhere safe for you to stay whilst he deals with it.

He would go so far as hiring a bodyguard for you tbh.

Being with him might be a struggle too

Homeboy is a bit unpredictable and impulsive

Doing stupid things is his speciality- 😭

No but literally, you’ll sometimes have to stop him from acting out on his weird revenge ideas or stuff that could get him into trouble.

“I was just gonna-” “No.” “But…” “Jimmy, no.” 

Sometimes you succeed, sometimes you don’t. But you love him either ways. <3

He also likes talking shit about people with you *cough* probably Howard *cough* - sure, a bit rude - but he finds it hilarious lol 

Lot of in-jokes between you and him

Jimmy is a daydreamer and is easily distracted

Especially by you.

He sometimes gets stuck thinking about you when doing boring work.

Until Francesca tells him to pull himself together lmao

Jimmy spends all possible time together with you. 

He is ambitious and serious about work, but after you and him became a couple his priorities changed. 

He finds time to spend with you. Last thing he wants is for you to feel like he cares more about work than he does for you.

If you’re adventurous and like being outdoors, he does too.

But honestly? He prefers cuddling at home and watching movies with you.

He is not a good chef, so he buys a lot of food from restaurants and brings it home if you’ve had a long day at work.

He makes sure to be a romantic bastard too. 

Candlelit dinners, taking baths together, picnics… You name it. He loves spoiling you. 

He wouldn’t admit it to anyone else but hear me out… Home-spa dates 👀

He did use to have his office at a nail salon, so he knows his way around those things

If you allow him to, he likes painting your nails - with him choosing the color

Like I said, Jimmy enjoys cuddling you.

He has a lot of feelings, traumas etc pent up, which he dares to let out around you.

He has learnt that he can be vulnerable with you and not get judged, which he appreciates.

That’s why he loves coming home to you after a long day and simply resting in your arms.

He prefers being the little spoon - to feel protected and loved by you. <3

To summarize: It might take him a while to put the pieces together and actually confess his feelings for you - but once he does he spends every day letting you know how much you mean to him.

I just remembered why I love Jimmy sm AHHH he deserves love and happiness <3<3 Part 2 soon!

[callsign-bunnie]

Would you write Nikolai x Price?

Like something happens to Price and the 141 get to see Nik just go nuts to get him back? Laswel involvement ofc

If you want to

Another draft that I never posted

Also, I'm sorry it's not more involved, I'm not the best at writing long drawn out action scenes, try as I may, so I went with this, instead. I thought it'd be cute

--

36 hours. 

That’s how long it took Nikolai to find Price.

It had been almost exactly, just five minutes shy, of 36 hours from when it had been revealed that Price had even been taken. Gaz, Soap, and Ghost were still putting together clues to even find the fucking man, and Nikolai had brought him back without a damn scratch on him.

Of course, Nik was coated in blood. Laswell, herself, had a fair amount, but it didn’t compare to the sheer amount of blood that Nik had. 

All three had stood there, their mouths stupidly agape, as Nik and Laswell escorted Price back onto the base, Price grinning from ear to ear, and had watched the two bloody individuals drop into chairs, exhaustedly. “Will not make that mistake again.” Nik muttered, dropping a combat knife on the table.

Laswell? She just snorted as she dropped a handgun. Both were bloody. 

“I’m thinking a shower.” Price had chuckled, putting his hands on the back of Nik’s chair. Nik had just snorted. “Damn, guys, did you even look for me?” He’d joked to the three.

Even Ghost had looked… beyond shocked. But, eventually, he’d just crossed his arms, huffing. “We were starting the process. We didn’t even know where you were.”

“Only three people know where Price would be on a Sunday.” Nik muttered. “Me, Kate, and the bastard who grabbed him. It was… easy to find him. Child’s play.”

“Child’s play?!” Soap spluttered, shaking his head. “It was hardly a day and a half, Nik!”

“Would have been less.” Laswell commented, rubbing off what looked like dried blood on the back of her neck. “But the helicopter malfunctioned.”

Nik nodded, his expression solemn. “But we managed.”

Price beamed behind them, his expression full of pride and joy. “I’m a little disappointed you two rescued me so fast, I was almost to my good material. I’d only gotten past the ‘you won’t get away with this’ bit.”

Gaz shook his head. “Wait, wait. Nik how would you know where Price usually is on Sunday? Like you said, I don’t even know that.”

Nik blinked at him and then shrugged. “He gets tea and crumpets from the same little shop, and it’s always playing the last football game. He sets an alarm for 9 o’clock, hits the snooze button, and then sleeps in until 9:30, where he then finally gets up, takes a shower, and walks there. Of course, he almost always stops by this animal shelter to pet the dogs, which puts him at the cafe at 10:30.”

“God save us if you ever become an assassin.” Soap mutters, but Price’s grin only widened. “So… how did you find him?”

“Well, I knew who had to have taken him. An associate of Makarov, though I wouldn’t call him an ally.” Nik continued, accepting a towel from Laswell and wiping his face. “And I knew a chain of people to go through to get the location. Ultimately, it only took one chain link.”

“Either of you ever slowly dismember someone?” Laswell asked, leaning back in her seat. “It’s not for the weak of heart.”

“Or stomach.” Nik agreed. 

The lieutenant and two sergeants just stared, again. 

Price had finally sighed and leaned down to Nik. “My love, that shower?”

“I’m coming.” Nik nodded, standing, and both men exited.

Laswell had remained behind, chuckling at the three boys. “Close your mouths, boys. You too, Ghost, I can see the concave in your mask.” All three did as told, and she shook her head. “I knew as soon as Nik had been the one to find out that this would happen. Word of advice? Don’t fuck with someone who only has one thing to lose.” She had finally stood, neatly pushing in her chair, before bowing and leaving.All three had shared a look between them, silently agreeing to one thing. Price calling Nik my love had not been the strangest thing to happen in the last 36 hours.

--

I can't believe I don't have a Nikprice taglist. I mean, it makes sense, I never write them (I never get asks) but damn.

Do you want to be added to this taglist? Reply to this post that you wish to be added to the taglist and I will start to tag you in it every time I post it. You can also use this form!

[featureenvyproductions]

here’s a bird’s eye view of my comic Eyan Eternal

For people who don't know what it is. Bc I think some of you might find it's right up your alley. Well this is an updated one anyway. I do actually have a volume of this out in print right now, but the low def, basic version is online and complete, and tbh, I just want people to read it. I took almost two years to complete this and quite literally poured every waking moment (after work and when I wasn’t fixing stuff in my house) into this to try and finish it.

Ahem

Here is one of these at a glance things! 

If that’s enough to intrigue you, take a look at my chapter masterpost which has convenient links to every chapter post so you don’t have to go figuring out where they are and what order they go in!: https://www.tumblr.com/featureenvyproductions/717516139934154752/eyan-eternal-tumblr-chapter-masterpost?source=share

If you like it and want to support me you can also buy a copy of the first print volume, which collects chapters 1-5 and has a smidge of bonus content (only available in the US right now, but that’s not going to be forever, and I’m working on an e-book as well): https://www.etsy.com/FeatureEnvy/listing/1447399615/eyan-eternal?utm_source=Copy&utm_medium=ListingManager&utm_campaign=Share&utm_term=so.lmsm&share_time=1683565699335

And now here is a more detailed break down if you need more info than that...

*Jonathan Frakes asks you things meme voice* have you ever wondered what you’d find if you REALLY lived forever?

Well, meet Eyan, an immortal vampire.

He’s slowly finding out the answer to that question...

...And it appears to be unbearable isolation.

Eons into the distant future, when most stars have faded in the night sky and the cosmic event horizon has confined any remaining beings to an isolated pocket of the universe, Eyan roams interstellar space in a repurposed generation ship in search of anything that could be considered alive/sentient in the way he is.

So far, he’s out of luck.

That is until he runs into an unexpected former rival on a remote planet - Zero, a sentient android he never expected to be the only other person left alive.

Well. That is, if either of them can really be considered “alive”. What does that mean anyway, when the humans who defined what it means to be alive are all gone?

This is something they’ll have to explore and define for themselves as they attempt to set aside their myriad of differences and try to work together on one of the few ways left to escape the dark fate of ultimate isolation - The Grand Encoder, a machine that can upload minds to a special medium - if it even works for them anyway. In the process, they slowly come to accept that maybe they’d had each other all wrong and weren’t seeing the bigger picture.

You may not find any action-packed Star Wars like escapades here in this sci fi drama. You also won’t find ponderings about the origins of vampires or what gave rise to robot sentience - It’s integral to the plot that these things just ARE. But you will find a thoughtful exploration of identity and how it can cause us to define ourselves and relate to (or abandon) each other depending on the framework within which we are doing that exploration and within which we are compelled to exist. It asks the question, what if the frameworks within which we defined our existence and purpose no LONGER existed...Where would we go from there?

And as two immortal guys who are the only folks left in the universe (as far as they know), Eyan and Zero are just the right people to mull over that.

There is both textual and allegorical queerness in this story - both main characters should be considered gay men, even if it’s The Future TM and terms/exact scopes of identities may not be EXACTLY 1-1 with today’s...But I want to be perfectly clear that it was my intent to make them gay because I wanted to see more gay guys in sci fi and I don’t want anyone erasing that. As for the allegorical stuff - I myself am a trans gay man in my late 30s, so this act of re-exploring and re-framing myself and evaluating how and why queer folks interact with each other the way we do is something I’m very familiar with, and I feel like other folks might relate. (I also peppered in some neurodivergent-person-in-a-neurotypical-world moods tbh.)

Of course it’s not all serious. I do have a bit of fun with some old school vampire tropes, tossing Eyan around and putting him in Situations.

Anyway if this all sounds interesting to you, take a look at my tag and site (above)! I’d appreciate it! I also like to hear from people and see if there’s anything about it you related to! :)

I also do everything. Every last monotonous step (well, aside from literally loading up a printing press to churn out volumes lol - BUT REST ASSURED IF I HAD $10K TO PISS INTO THE WIND I WOULD DO THAT TOO). So if there’s ANYTHING you want to know about my process, I’m happy to tell you so please ask, especially if you’re like trying to get started on your own comic or trying to go to print :) 

Edit before I go ahead and blaze this: I want to say, to be honest, the creation of comic was initially motivated almost entirely by the isolation/loneliness I’ve felt in my life. It’s not as bad as some folks’ and I know that, but it is a really prevalent thread throughout my life and sometimes is almost unbearable, and my comic began as an exploration of that loneliness, as well as a narrative exercise to try and express the depth of it at its worst point. I’m putting this out here because ultimately I don’t know...maybe someone will catch my drift and understand the feeling I’m trying to illustrate, and maybe they’ll want to see the plot that came of those feelings. I am not above the need to feel seen lol, especially if other people out there feel like they can resonate with this experience as well.

[matchingbatbites]

baby you can bite me (18+)

This is one part self indulgence, one part gift for the delightful @strangersatellites Thanks for both putting up with me and enabling me <3 Ao3 Link | 2.3k

Listen, Eddie knows he's weird. He knows it, he accepts it, fuck, it's a huge part of his image. He's weird and he's not afraid to make it everyone else's problem.

It's just- He just feels like there's a difference between being weird, and being fixated on Steve Harrington's teeth. And not in a passing 'oh he has nice teeth', oh no, that would be far too normal for someone like Eddie. No, it's been three years since Eddie noticed Steve's teeth, and he's thought about those perfect, pearly whites far too many times to be considered anything even close to normal.

And like, of course Steve has perfect teeth. Eddie isn't sure if Steve just has good genes or if there was a year of braces that he arrived in Hawkins too late to witness - though Eddie’s money is on the good genes because Steve is fucking gorgeous, but either way.

The bottom line is that Steve has a mouthful of perfect, polished teeth that Eddie wants to lick the backs of. He wants to look at them up close and in person, needs to get his fingers in Steve's mouth and map out each and every one until he has them memorized.

So when Steve finally asks him out a few months after the whole Vecna ordeal, finally kisses him at the end of their first real date, Eddie does his absolute goddamn best to be normal about it. Steve has said over and over how he likes that Eddie is odd, how he likes his little quirks that other people usually tend to find annoying. It makes Eddie feel safe, makes him feel comfortable to just be himself around Steve, and it slowly chips away at his need to come off as normal.

That kind acceptance is probably the reason why Eddie only makes it a month before he caves into his fixation. One month of deep kisses where he bullies his tongue into Steve’s pretty mouth, where finally gets to lick and taste while still being as casual about it as he can possibly be. 

He makes it a month before, on a night where they’re just hanging out at Steve’s place, he asks a soft “Hey. Can I do… something weird?”

They’re spread out across the couch and Steve tips his head up, looking at where Eddie is currently laid on top of him, nestled comfortably in the vee of Steve’s legs. 

“How weird? Like, normal Eddie weird?”

“Uh, I guess?”

“Then sure.”

And Steve gives him that soft little smile that’s just for them, the one that oozes endearment whenever Eddie does something odd or silly, and he knows that Steve won’t judge him. The reassurance doesn’t stop Eddie from being hesitant as he reaches up, as he settles his hands on Steve’s jaw. He pushes Steve's upper lip up with one thumb before finally, finally sliding the other over those pretty, shiny teeth. 

He rubs over the front of them first before tracing along the edge, feeling how perfectly they line up. Presses the pad of his thumb into Steve's little canine, nowhere near as sharp as Eddie's is, but so fucking cute regardless. He switches from his thumb to his forefinger and traces along the bottom row, pushing Steve’s mouth open wider as he slides his finger along the edge, all the way to the far molar on one side before following the line back to the other side.

Eddie pauses when he feels something, though it’s not against his finger, oh no. Steve’s dick is rapidly growing against Eddie’s stomach, impossible to miss with how close they’re pressed together, and he can't resist smirking down at the gorgeous boy beneath him. 

“Well now, it seems like I’m not the only one enjoying this," he mutters, pulling his finger out and tracing Steve’s lips with the spit-slick pad. His boyfriend’s face is a pretty pink that’s only getting darker with each second, and Eddie's smirk grows into a grin when he mutters a soft "I like your hands."

"Yeah? You like it when I stuff my fingers in your mouth, angel?"

Before Steve can respond, Eddie pushes back into his mouth with two fingers, slides them along his teeth again before dragging them back over his tongue, pressing down on the muscle and soaking up the little whimper he releases. Steve’s hips press up, grinding his dick against Eddie’s stomach, and the metalhead coos softly, borderline condescending. “Yeah, you do like that. So greedy for it, huh baby?”

He’s still surprised at how easy it is for them to slip into this dynamic, Eddie demanding and dominating, and Steve so subservient, so willing to let Eddie push him around a bit. They’ve only been together for a month, but the roles feel so natural, and Eddie's little metal heart had turned to goo when Steve explained it to him.

"I like that I can let go of everything that doesn't matter and just focus on you, and know that you'll take care of me too."

Steve whines high and needy, cutting through Eddie's thoughts, and the older pulls his fingers out before crashing their lips together, needing to taste and bite and lick into that perfect mouth. Eddie loves how Steve opens for him so willingly, adores the little noises he makes as Eddie shifts up so he can grind their hips together properly. 

He keeps it slow and controlled, a clear juxtaposition against their frantic, biting kiss, but it seems to be doing the trick as he feels Steve's hands scrabbling at his back, grabbing for purchase. Eddie grinds down almost torturously slow, causing the kiss to break as Steve's head drops back with a low moan, and Eddie can’t resist diving down and licking a sloppy stripe up the line of his throat.

“Eddie, I want-”

“Mhm? Tell me what you want, sweetheart.”

“I want- fuck, I wanna suck you off, please.”

“Yeah? Want me to put something else in that pretty mouth of yours?”

Steve nods with a groan and Eddie sits up, says "Get on your knees for me then," and watches as Steve gladly complies, moving to kneel on the floor in front of him. He leans back against the couch as Steve immediately goes for his belt, gets it off and opens his pants as quickly as he can and fuck, Eddie loves how eager he is to please.

He shudders as Steve pulls his dick free from his jeans and strokes it a few times, smearing the precome that's already weeping from the head of it. The younger leans in to press his tongue to it, gives it a sucking kiss as he looks up at Eddie through his lashes.

Eddie holds his gaze as Steve sinks down onto the shaft, and though he's only done this a handful of times, he continues to impress Eddie with how easily he takes to it, how happy he is to have his mouth stuffed full of Eddie’s dick. Steve picked it up quicker than he expected, such an eager student one Eddie introduced him to a constant flow of praise, and now his boyfriend is a fucking natural at it.

He sucks on Eddie's dick like he's getting paid to do it, licks over the head on the upstroke and takes him all the way to the back of his throat, occasionally choking himself on it because he likes it, because he knows Eddie likes it. Eddie's mouth runs the entire time, a constant stream of "That's it, baby. Such a good boy, take it so fucking well," falling from his lips until he can feel his orgasm creeping up on him.

Eddie can't help himself as he pulls Steve off by his hair, as he shoves the thumb of his free hand into that gorgeous mouth and smears his precome all over his teeth and tongue. He watches Steve's eyes flutter shut as he takes a moment to catch his breath.

Fuck, his boy is so beautiful.

"Here's what's gonna happen now, Stevie." 

The younger hums around his finger, his big eyes blinking open to look at Eddie because he's learned to do that, he knows to look at Eddie when he speaks and Jesus, it's such a thrill for Eddie to realize that.

"I'm going to fuck your gorgeous face now, okay? I'm gonna fuck your pretty mouth and I'm going to come in it, but I don't want you to swallow until I tell you. Got that, sweetheart?"

Steve hums in confirmation and Eddie shoves his thumb as deep as it can go before pulling it out again. He pushes that hand into Steve's hair and his grip is gentle as he feeds his dick back into that lovely mouth. Steve’s jaw goes slack and his tongue flattens against the underside as Eddie pulls him down, down, until Steve’s nose is pressing into his pubes. 

Eddie holds him there for a moment, just to feel him swallow around the head, just to watch him be good and wait for what he wants. He waits until Steve lets out a low whine, and only then does he pull Steve back a bit, creating a little bit of distance so he can snap his hips up and properly fuck into Steve’s mouth. 

Sometimes he wonders what he did, where did he go so right to end up here, to have Steve fucking Harrington on his knees, gagging on Eddie's dick like he was fucking made for it. To have Steve's pretty hands clutching at his thighs to ground himself even as Eddie watches him start to float away, his eyes hazy as he lets Eddie just use him. 

Steve is drooling, unable to swallow with his mouth full and Eddie knows his pants are going to be done for by the time they’re finished, but he can’t find it in him to care, not when his boyfriend is making those little punched out sounds like he’s actually getting fucked - and Jesus.

Just the thought shoves Eddie right to the edge and he says as much, says "Gonna fill up your pretty mouth, baby. Don't swallow yet, want you to hold it for me. You can do that, yeah good boy?" Steve hums in response, the sound muffled by the skin filling his mouth, and Eddie tries his best to be careful as his thrusts get sloppier, more uncoordinated as he chases his orgasm.

There’s the gentlest scrape of those beautiful teeth over his dick and Eddie is gone. He tightens a hand in Steve’s hair, pulling him back until the head is sitting just inside those perfect lips, and he uses his free hand to jerk himself until he's coming over Steve's pretty pink tongue, filling up his mouth just like he promised. Eddie pets through Steve’s hair as he takes a moment to catch his breath, and when he pulls his dick free from those plush lips, Steve seals his mouth shut, keeping Eddie’s seed safely inside.

“Fuck, you’re such a good boy for me, sweetheart. Come up here and let me take care of you.”

He pulls Steve up onto his lap and quickly gets his pants and underwear out of the way so he can get his hands on his boyfriend. Steve’s dick is red and shiny and slick, already dripping precome without Eddie having to even touch him. He wraps his hand around it and doesn't waste any time, stripping him at a quick pace, and hears the younger whine as best he can with his mouth still full.

“Open your mouth, sweetheart. Show me the mess I made.”

Steve’s jaw drops and Eddie feels pure heat shoot through him as some of his come dribbles out over his chin. He practically growls as he swipes it up with two fingers before shoving them into Steve’s mouth, covering them in the filthy mix of spit and spend as he fucks Steve’s mouth with them. After a moment he adds another, stretching his lips a little wider, and Steve moans loud when Eddie’s rings knock up against his teeth.

His hips stutter as Eddie shoves his fingers deep, and he knows Steve is close, can hear it in the high whine he releases, can feel it in the trembling of his thighs. He presses deeper as he finger-fucks Steve’s face, matching the pace of his hand as he jerks off his boyfriend.

“That’s it, baby, come on. Wanna see you come with my fingers down your throat.”

That’s all the permission Steve needs. His teeth sink into Eddie's fingers as he drops over the edge, and Eddie hopes, prays, that it leaves a mark, that he'll get to carry around an impression of those pretty, pretty teeth for days. Eddie strokes him through it, milking Steve until he’s whimpering from overstimulation, only stopping when he feels two taps on his shoulder - too much, slow down.

Eddie swaps his hands, pulls the fingers from Steve's mouth before replacing them with the fingers on his other hand, adding Steve's own come to the filthy mix in his mouth.

“Swallow for me now, angel.”

And Steve does, he swallows as best he can around Eddie's fingers before he sucks on them, doing his best to clean them in his post-orgasm high. His tongue runs over them and between them, replacing seed with saliva, and the pleased noises he makes are almost enough to get Eddie going again.

He pulls his fingers out, grinning at Steve’s whine of protest, and wipes his hands on his shirt before pulling Steve’s pants and underwear back up, not bothering to clean him off just yet.

“Let’s go take a shower, sunshine. Get you all cleaned up, then we can take a nap, okay?”

Steve hums in agreement and Eddie smiles, knowing he’s going to be floating for a little while longer. He can’t resist leaning in to press one more - okay, three more kisses to Steve’s pretty mouth, before nudging him to stand up.

It’s not until later, once they’re clean and tucked into Steve’s bed, that his boyfriend pipes up again.

“So my teeth, huh?”

Eddie just groans and shoves his face into Steve’s shoulder, and the younger laughs.

[quinnylouhughesx43]

Peter

based off of Taylor Swift’s song from The Tortured Poets Department

warning: a bit sad, longing for ex-lover, use of y/n

Ethan Edwards x fem!Reader

summary: Ethan and reader childhood friends —> lovers —> break up —> reader heartbreakingly waiting for his return.

author’s note: the photos are intended to tell the story them growing up. the last last picture are two quotes from the book “better than the movies” by Lynn Painter. (can be found on Amazon, books a million, barnes & noble, etc. links were too long to post)

Ethan and (y/n)’s older childhood friends always joked the two would fall in love one day. It was always a big laugh between the two of you because what business do 8 year olds have thinking about love?

In a blink of an eye you’re dancing at your end of the year eighth grade formal together, your heart has never reacted the way it was at that specific moment. Confused and a bit scared you kept your head staring at the floor while your hands were firmly placed on Ethan’s shoulders. His hands placed awkwardly on your waist. He cleared throat and paused both of your movements. “Hey (y/n)? Can I do something and you promise you not get mad if you don’t like it? We can just forget about it after if it’s weird.” His words were rushed and hands shaking. Your eyes connected with his, a slight nod yes to confirm you were okay with whatever it was he was asking for. As if the world moved in slow motion and no one else was in the school’s lobby, where the formal was happening but the two of you, Ethan ducked his head down just the few inches he needed to in order to give a quick kiss.

The first kiss for both of you.

Awkward, yet not weird for either of you. The beginning of what turned into a long beautiful journey. Until it wasn’t beautiful.

꧁꧂

“(Y/N) I am so tired of this repetitive argument. It happens over and over. I got accepted to Michigan and I got a scholarship for hockey. Their program is notorious for building up their athletes and getting them drafted. Drafted! You’ve known since we were kids that the NHL is what I wanted for myself.” Ethan tried to keep himself composed until he couldn’t. His desire, compassion, and dedication to chasing his dream often overshadowed his love and dedication to you. His childish mannerisms peaking through. “I just want to know where I fit into this plan? This future of yours.” You tried to keep your voice strong and unwavering but just like each time before the lump in your throat prevented you from even being able to breathe properly.

He sat down on the edge of your bed. Quiet minutes passed before he finally spoke again. “Maybe there isn’t an us in the future..” His words are so quiet you aren’t sure if you heard him correctly. “E?” You whimpered. Tears streaming one after the other. He didn’t look at you right away. Knowing if he did his resolve would shatter.

Taking a deep breath, starting over. Looking at you after a couple minutes had passed by and leaning over to wipe your cheeks dry. “I know this is going to be hard to hear. It’s killing me to even say it. It killed me to even think about it recently. I’m going to be gone for a long time for school. I won’t be returning home. My parents will be coming there over the holidays. It will be easier with training. I can’t ask you to sit here while you’re going to school yourself and be tied to me. Especially when we will never see each other. Neither of us have the money for traveling to and from. I’ve been so physically sick thinking about leaving you. We’ve only argued since I decided but honey this is what’s best for me and my dreams. I’m sorry I’m being so selfish but I can’t pass this up. If I stay here I take a chance at never having an opportunity at the NHL at least I know I’ll have an opportunity there.” Your tears stopped at some point. Sadness turned to numbness. Lost to the words he was saying.

“(Y/N/N). I can go and grow up while I’m gone. Get drafted. Or not. Then I’ll come find you if you’re still single. . We can live our dreams then. I just can’t ask you to sit here and be miserably alone.” Pressing a quick kiss to your forehead he left your house. That was the last thing he said to you in person. You didn’t see him again before he left. He tried but you declined. Not wanting to hurt anymore than you already were.

꧁꧂

You just watched Ethan’s NHL debut with the New Jersey Devil two weeks ago. Pride swelled in your heart for him but heartbreak also overtook you. He never came back for you. You’re both 24 now, he could’ve come back after college since he was drafted pre-degree but he never did. Since ‘goodbye for now’ turned into ‘goodbye’ you sat down at your desk and started writing him a letter. You were going to mail it to his mom’s house. She can mail it to him.

Dear Ethan,

I hoped you'd return with your feet on the ground, tell me all that you'd learned because love is never lost when perspective is earned and you said you would come and get me, but we were only 17. My shelf life on the fantasies has expired. Please forgive me, Ethan, I really tried to hold on to the days you were mine. But the young girl turned into a woman who sits by her window has turned out the light.

You said you were going to grow up and you were going to come find me. Promises that were oceans deep, but never to keep.

Sincerely,

(Y/N)

Little did you know he was back in town at his parents’ house and received the letter himself. He was there to see you. He was back for you now that he was settled and could care for you both properly. But he was too late. You had shut the door on him. You stopped supporting him quietly. Stopped following the scores of the games and watching. . Ethan played the rest of the season terribly, not having his number fan, supporter there. It didn’t matter if he knew or not that she was always cheering him on. It just solidified for him, he no longer had his rock. His reason for being. That he fucked up all those years ago. That he no longer had a reason for what he thought was his dream. His dream was really your dreams. He wanted the future you wanted with him and now he will never have it all because of his selfishness back at 17.

[indiaalphawhiskey]

Hi India. I feel really bad for asking this but I wondered if there is an explanation. I always see Larries say 'anyone but Louis' because if Harry is being romantically linked to men then Louis is always excluded when it's very obvious that something went on between Harry and Louis during 1D. Whether it's Harries or the odd time the media they never bring up Louis. So I always see this 'anyone but Louis'. But I noticed that Larries won't accept Harry with any man but Louis. They would prefer him to be straight than with a man who isn't Louis. Isn't this a similar thing? Anyone but Louis vs no one but Louis. Or am I missing a point? Thanks!

Um, it’s very late where I am, so I’m gonna try and be as coherent as possible.

Personally, I believe Harry and Louis are together, and have been for the last 13 years, and the reason I believe Harry has been with “no one but Louis” as you put it, is absolutely not because I would “rather Harry be straight than be with someone else”. It’s literally because I’ve never seen Harry (or Louis) look at anyone else the way they look at each other.

I say this, time and again: to me Larry isn’t a ship. Larry is not me playing with two dolls and making them kiss each other. Neither part of the couple is “swappable” with any other “character” no matter whether man or woman, no matter what level of attractiveness or wealth or fame, no matter how many pap pics are taken of them walking side by side shirtless and in silence or fake kissing next to a car or dancing on a yacht, because none of those things equate to being in love.

What convinced me of Larry isn’t the amount of time they spent together, or how handsome they both are, or what a cute couple they make (even though they are hella cute). It’s literally everything else. It’s their body language around each other, it’s Harry’s stupid little nose scrunch and how it’s disappeared now that they’re never seen together, it’s the way they always seem to reference the same documentaries and albums, is how they dance their little pointy-pointy victory dance that I’ve never seen anyone else do, its how they speak of England as home and LA as work, its the fact that their deep-seated values are so aligned, it’s the entire discography of songs that tell two perspectives of the same love story, it’s the way they describe success with insanely similar verbiage that you can imagine them discussing it laying next to each other in bed…

For me, it’s Harry for Louis and Louis for Harry not because I won’t accept anything else. It’s because I’ve never seen anyone else even come close to being on the receiving end of the way they look at each other. If I see either of them acting that way towards someone else, I’ll consider changing my mind.

I think what people don’t get is that this isn’t really a point of pride for me. I don’t ‘get anything’ by believing in Larry (in fact, there are many times I wish I could spare myself the heartbreak of knowing so much about celeb closeting and just forget about it) or by convincing other people to believe in them. I literally just believe it. And maybe one day there will be enough evidence to change my mind, and then I won’t believe it. It’s just… today’s not that day. 🤷🏻‍♀️

[scribbling-dragon]

breaking the ice

summary:

“What have we got here?” The man grins, brushing closer to him, but not quite close enough to touch. He tilts his head, hair laying flat against his head. Sparks shower out, cyan and orange dotting his clothes. He turns his arms over, admiring the pattern they leave behind before they fade again and the man is in front of him once more.

“What are you doing?” Martyn asks, the fifth time the man has teleported to be beside him, no longer jolting in surprise at the sudden shower of sparks and appearance of the man beside him.

(ao3 link)

(2,714 words)

If Martyn could shiver, he’d probably have shuddered his way out of his own skin by now. But he can't, meaning he’s left to continue floating miserably upwards, accepting his fate of continuing ever upwards, never to escape from the clutches of the sky.

He won't freeze, either, when he gets beyond the sphere of warmth that keeps everything else alive. The lack of air might bring a more significant challenge, but he might just be able to freeze himself entirely solid.

He slumps a little at the thought, though his slumping does very little to stop him from rising several feet higher. The air here is a little thinner, the tips of mountains just fading from his view as they grow smaller and smaller below him. His hands haven't begun to tingle with the tell-tale sign of the effect wearing off. His veins continue to buzz with the magic coursing through them, and, not for the first time, he curses his own curiosity. And then the stupid geyser that had seemed like a lot of fun at first- but now, this.

Something pops behind him, and he twists, hood falling in front of his face as he turns. He pushes it back, just in time to watch a man disappear in a puff of particles, orange and cyan swirling around his face. He blinks, sneezing as one lands on his nose. He jerks with the motion, spinning halfway round in the air.

The man reappears a moment later, particles bursting outwards from a previously empty bit of air. He grins up at him, seeming to hover in place for a moment as he hovers. Martyn continues to rise in the air, but he twists to look down at this new person.

Whatever was keeping the man afloat seems to disappear, as he plummets. Martyn shouts something- no words actually make it through his brain, coming out in a scramble of noise as the man drops like a stone. He pops back into existence beside Martyn’s head, hair floating around his face, stirred by an invisible breeze.

“What have we got here?” The man grins, brushing closer to him, but not quite close enough to touch. He tilts his head, hair laying flat against his head. Sparks shower out, cyan and orange dotting his clothes. He turns his arms over, admiring the pattern they leave behind before they fade again and the man is in front of him once more.

“What are you doing?” Martyn asks, the fifth time the man has teleported to be beside him, no longer jolting in surprise at the sudden shower of sparks and appearance of the man beside him.

“Watching you,” the man answers simply, twisting about in the air casually, as though there’s nowhere else he’d rather be, like, maybe on the ground? “You seem to have gotten yourself in a predicament, huh?” The man has an accent, smoothing over his words as he watches Martyn with something close to fascination.

“Yeah, nothing like endlessly floating and waiting for everything to be over.”

The man laughs at that, teleporting twice more before he stops. The teleporting cuts his laugh up, makes it more choppy, disorganising it and spreading it apart. It’s odd, to watch this man disappear and reappear, floating around Martyn as though he’s the one with levitation.

“Do you trust me?” The man asks, once he’s managed to stop laughing. Martyn didn't even think it was that funny.

“Why would I trust someone I don't even know the name of?”

The man’s face scrunches up, the bands on his arms pulsing for a moment. Martyn watches them move with fascination - he had thought they were tattoos before, circular designs decorating the man’s arms. But they move, as though with minds of their own.

“Why would I help someone I don't even know the name of?” The man counters. He reappears on Martyn’s other side, forcing him to turn and face the man-without-a-name. “Why do we do anything?”

“Right, thanks,” he pushes the man slightly away from himself, conscious of how close they had begun to drift. The man pops up on his other side, legs crossed beneath himself as he watches Martyn. “Don't exactly need a second crisis on top of the current one.”

“A crisis that could very easily be solved,” the man smiles, “if you trusted me.”

Martyn watches him for several long moments, which is made increasingly harder with how he seems to enjoy popping in and out of existence, twisting in a circle around Martyn, forcing him to follow along with his actions.

“Fine,” he grits out after several long moments, causing the man’s smile to get even wider, the points of his teeth becoming more obvious as he leans closer; the grin is almost cheshire-like in nature. “I trust you.”

“Fantastic!” The man disappears again, and Martyn’s stomach drops, considering that maybe this had just been something for the man to toy with, and that he actually wouldn't be able to help in any kind of way.

He scowls to himself, limbs going loose and relaxed as he slumps over in frustration. It does nothing, the endless force continuing to carry him upwards, towards the gaping maw of the void above. It’s slowly widening, opening in greeting as it prepares to swallow him whole. Maybe it’ll even kill him, if the cold won't.

Air brushes over the side of his face, stirring the short hairs there and causing him to shiver. The reaction is involuntary, as is the way his mouth opens slightly at the feeling, a silent breath escaping him.

“Hold on for just a moment,” that same voice breathes into his ear, a hand slipping under his arm to press against his chest; the heel of his palm digs in just below his heart. He can feel the thumping of it vibrate against the man’s hand. A warmth blooms out from there, heating his skin to where he’s almost convinced he’s burning alive.

And then he’s gone.

He’s left feeling weightless, still lifting higher into the sky. Where it had been easy to breathe before, suddenly, now, the air refuses to enter his lungs. It leaves him with a heaving chest, pressing a hand where the man had just touched him. It’s still warm, his heart still thumping hard enough to be felt, hard enough that he worries that his ribs might bruise.

He digs his fingers into the skin there, looks down. But the fabric isn’t charred, no blackening or curling edges of fabric to hint at why that warmth seems to have wormed its way under his skin- why it now seems to be intent on cooking him alive.

His coat is too warm for him, claustrophobic around him in a way it’s never been before. He curls his hand into it, feeling uncomfortable with this sudden heat when it’s the opposite of everything he’s meant to be. His fingers dig into his chest, curling into his skin, as though he could rip this sudden warmth from himself.

He curls a little tighter into himself, feeling the steady beat of his heart against his palm. It’s reassuring, something to measure and breathe beside, to confirm that he can still breathe, that the air isn't thin enough to send him into light-headedness.

Just as everything balances itself back out again, something tugs in his chest. It’s soft at first, a small, experimental tug, as though testing the waters. Whatever it is, the test is deemed successful, as the grip tightens and then yanks.

He stumbles, hunching over as a dizzying wave of nausea washes over him, hands braced against his knees. He sinks a little further down as the dizziness doesn't go away, and his vision turns black and watery- wavering slightly, like a shitty video.

The ground beneath him is solid- the ground below him.

He gasps out on the next breath, blinking in an attempt to clear his vision faster, glancing around at the field he’s currently sat in, and the house a few feet ahead of him.

And he’s alone.

There’s nothing around but a few chickens, all a safe distance away from him, clucking happily to themselves as they root around in the grass for seeds and worms. He stares at them for longer than he probably needs to, watching them move around; watching the way the wind ruffles their feathers; watches the way two of them step towards each other, heads jittery as they eye each other up, before moving onwards again; watches the way that a butterfly lands on a stem of grass, the way it bends beneath the weight, the way it flutters its wings once before drifting off again.

“Nice, isn't it?”

Martyn jumps at the sudden voice, stumbling up and to his feet, almost toppling over with the momentum and lack of weightlessness as he stands. The man grabs him by the arms, easing him back upwards, continuing to hold onto him, even once he’s managed to get his feet under himself again.

“What the hell,” Martyn says. He pulls his arms back out of the man’s grip, taking a small step back, putting distance between them, no matter how small that distance actually is. “Do you get a kick out of scaring people?”

“Yes, actually.” The man’s head tilts to the side, and he’s grinning again. He’s watching Martyn, eyes dragging over him as he takes in every bit of him. “Only a few people ever hear me coming, and even then they don't know where I am.”

“That’s mean.”

“I could have left you up there,” the man’s face flattens back out. The rings around his arms drop to his wrists, rattling around the bone there like bangles before they come to a halt, clanking against each other as the man takes a step to the side.

He reappears behind Martyn, looking him over there. “You even have a tail,” he comments, and Martyn turns, still a little unsteady on his feet but pulling himself away when the man goes to support him again. “What are you?”

“Don't you think it’s a little rude to ask that?” Martyn responds, crossing his arms. Something about this man sets him slightly off-kilter, not certain on how he’s supposed to act when faced with someone he doesn't even know the name of. “I don't even know your name.”

“Scott,” the man grabs his hand and shakes it, “pleasure to meet you…?”

“Martyn,” he responds, when the man - Scott - lets his voice trail off meaningfully. “It’s still rude to ask what someone is.”

“I've just never seen anyone like you before,” Scott says, still circling around him. Like a shark circling its prey. The comparison does nothing to ease Martyn’s nerves. His fingers feel too stiff to even think about holding a sword right now. “The hooves and antlers made me think deer of some kind, but the grey and blue threw me off a little. And then you were just so cold when I touched you. Like you had ice running through your veins. And it’s waaay too hot for you to be wearing that coat right now, but you're doing it anyway?”

“You some kind of expert?”

“No, but I have been around the block,” Scott tilts his head to the side, popping in and out of space as he reappears next to Martyn, stretching up to peer at his antlers, a hand hovering just above his shoulder, as though for balance. “Seen plenty of people wandering about, some lost some not, others simply exploring. Some friendly…some not.”

“I can't see how anyone could dislike you,” he says. “You're so forward with information and understanding of people’s personal space.”

“All you had to do was say,” Scott says, stepping back and looking at him with his unfairly pretty eyes. “And there was hardly any time to tell you anything up there, I was constantly playing catch-up and toying with how far I could fall before teleporting to you again.”

“You could tell me now.”

“Alright!” Scott chirps, “Pleasure to meet you, strange ice man, I am Scott, the lovely and local transporter, at your service. And I don't even charge for use of those services,” Scott grins at him, as though any of that was charming. And- alright, maybe some of it was a little charming, in a weird sort of way. Like when you found a feral cat in the area near your house and thought it was quite sweet in its violent, insane little way.

He even does a little bow, bending himself at the waist and looking up at him from beneath his hair.

“Alright, alright,” he huffs a laugh despite himself. “I'm a chillager.”

“A chillager?” Scott pops back into his personal bubble with a flash of sparks, peering closer at him. “Are you sure? You certainly don't look like one I've ever met before…”

Martyn thinks he’s been quite controlled up until this point. He really, really thinks he has, actually. And, at this point, Scott is deserving of whatever Martyn serves to him. He closes his hand into a fist, yankwing downwards, feeling the water vapour in the air around them rapidly condensing and freezing.

The snow dumps on top of them with little mercy, large chunks of ice rolling further out. Martyn stares at the small mound of snow he’s created, considering that he’s maybe done a little too much this time, pulled slightly too much water into his control.

He watches the snow. The snow that has entirely swamped Scott, almost drowning him beneath it. He can't see hair nor hide of the other man. So he rocks back on his heels and waits. And then waits a little longer.

And then a little longer.

A small thread of anxiety begins to curl in his stomach - what if teleporters are extremely vulnerable to cold? He’s never met a teleporter before, will it be his fault if he’s accidentally just murdered the guy? What if he’s the last of his kind- he’s never met a teleporter before, that’s gotta be for a reason, right? What if they're all dead, and he’s just managed to kill the last of the teleporter species.

He digs his hands into the snow, shovelling it out of the way quickly, digging deeper and berating himself for dumping so much snow on top of the man- his mother would kill him if she knew what he’s just done. Exercising control and restraint is very important. All of which do not include dumping snow on a guy, even if he was really annoying.

He brushes against something solid within the snow, something that moves when he touches it. He heaves some more snow out of the way, coming face to face with a grinning Scott. The man’s hair is damp and plastered against his face from the snow, but he’s still grinning. Doesn't look even a little bit hurt.

He’s leaned over Scott, looking over his face for any small winces of pain, before he can even think about it. Maybe he just has a grin constantly plastered on his face, or something, and so he can't show pain or cold.

“Aw,” Scott sits up, snow cascading from his very bare shoulders. He doesn't even look cold. “Were you worried about me?”

Martyn scowls at him, considering how much more snow he might be able to dump on him with the significantly depleted water vapour around them. Definitely still enough to bury him again.

His silence is apparently enough of a response as Scott’s grin grows further, sharp teeth glinting under the light. “You know I could just teleport myself out, right?” He asks, a laugh beginning to bubble under his voice.

Actually, screw whatever his mother says. He dumps more snow on the guy, patting a hand against it to solidify it a little more, pack it in a little tighter.

Scott continues to laugh, even if it is slightly more muffled now. Martyn scowls at the mound of snow, hoping that he freezes to death a little quicker.

Except he doesn't, really, even if Scott teleporting behind him makes him reconsider the whole swearing off on murder attempts. He could make an exception, just this once.

[ourloveisforthelovely]

House of Black Part 6

Regulus Black AU

Request: Regulus and his wife are raising Sirius’ daughter after he ends up in Azkaban. Now after his escape Sirius comes to them to thank them and get to know his daughter.

Pairings: Regulus Black x Reader. Former Sirius x Reader

Link to Part 5

Rating: M- smut

____

Sirius waited until Abby was out of the room before speaking. Remus had gone back about whatever he was doing and acted as if nothing weird and uncomfortable just happened.

“So, are you going to say anything about any of that?”

Sirius questioned, feeling his temper building. Remus turned around with a raised eyebrow.

“What would you like me to say?”

Sirius scratched his head before sitting down.

“Oh, I don't know…maybe You just had your ass handed to you Sirius or Sirius, I’m awfully sorry that your kid hates you.”

Remus rolled his eyes. It was time for dramatic Sirius to make his entrance.

“Don’t you think that you are being a tad over dramatic?”

Sirius’ mouth dropped.

“Dramatic? I’m being dramatic?! Excuse me!”

Remus decided it was time to cut in.

“Yes, you are being dramatic. If you were expecting Abby to suddenly accept you and act as if nothing happened then you are crazy. Sirius, you need to accept the fact that this is a lot for a 13-year-old girl to take in. Up until a few months ago, she was used to it just being Regulus and Y/n that she had to answer to. Now you are into the mix and it's a lot for a child. Sirius, you owe both Regulus and Y/n a few thousand thank yous.”

Sirius was silent for a moment. He hated admitting that Remus was right but he was. Sirius did owe both Regulus and yourself a lot.

“Damn it, Remus. Why do you always have to be right? I just hate having to face that snarky look on Regulus’ face when I thank him.”

Remus shook his head. Why he was slightly surprised that Sirius was acting like this was beyond him. Sirius always hated telling Regulus thank you or that he was right about something. That was most likely one of those things that would never change.

“Yes, you should. As Abby told you, you are also lucky to still have your brother. This is a chance for the two of you to hash out your differences and be brothers again. I would take it if I were you.”

Sirius sat back down and lost himself in his thoughts. Maybe Remus was right. This was a chance to work out his differences with Regulus. The only question was how would he go about it?”

“The next thing I know you are going to tell me to let go of the fact that I’m jealous of seeing Y/n so happy with Regulus.”

Remus leaned back in his chair.

“Since you brought it up…whatever you think can and would happen between Y/n and yourself…just don’t. Y/n loves Regulus and she won’t leave him. You burned that bridge a long time ago. If you try anything to mess with them I will take you out back and beat you.”

Sirius stared at Remus with wide eyes before nodding. While Sirius would agree to Remus’ demands, that didn’t mean that he wouldn't internally groan every time Regulus touched you in front of him.

“Okay, okay…I’ll be good.”

(meanwhile)

You were barely awake when there was a knock on the door. Regulus groaned before getting up and quickly dressing. You followed his lead and made the bed.

“If it’s Sirius, I swear I will punch him.”

Regulus grumbled as he opened the door. He was relieved to see Abby and Harry on the other side of the door. Abby looked annoyed while Harry was clearly on edge himself. Regulus couldn’t help but feel sorry for them. Both of their lives were now in an uproar that neither asked for.

“Did he run you lot off that quickly? Not that I blame either of you for leaving. Being in the same room with him made me want to fight.”

Abby walked into the bedroom and sat down on the bed with a frown on her face while Harry moved to the window. You couldn’t help but smirk at the visible resemblance between Abby and Regulus when they were annoyed at the same person. Turning your attention to Harry, you couldn’t help but think about how much he reminded you of James standing there.

Like Regulus, you too worried about how much having Sirius back in your lives and the new upcoming war with Voldemort would throw Harry and Abby’s lives into a complete tailspin?

“No…maybe…Remus told me to come find you both since other members of their Order possy are turning up. I did tell Sirius off a bit. He seemed slightly surprised.”

Regulus couldn’t help the smirk.

“You told him off?”

Abby chose to not mention the fact that she told Sirius about the horocrux. She would let Regulus assume that Remus let that ball drop on Sirius.

“Just that he owes you and mum a lot. There were some other things too but that isn’t important right now. What is important is how are we going to get along with the members of the Order that don’t like us…for whatever reason.”

Regulus briefly considered asking Abby “what other stuff” were said but decided to focus more on the lot of people that he was stuck in a house with. The last thing that Regulus really wanted to do was be involved with the order, however, he knew there was little choice. Regulus would much rather just things the four of you, just like they had been for so long.

The four of us.

That was exactly how it had been for some time. After inheriting Harry, “the three of us” became “the four of us” and that had always been enough for Regulus.

“Things will be just fine. It will take some getting used to but we’ll manage.”

You said, in a calming tone before going over to fix Abby’s hair. She looked up at you with a frown.

“That means that we have to be nice and social?”

She questioned, making you giggle. It didn’t matter that she was actually Sirius’ daughter…she acted just like Regulus.

“The two of you really have no chill.”

You replied. Regulus and Abby exchanged a frown that said “we hate people.”

“No, I just don’t like anyone down there. I didn’t like them as a kid and that really hasn’t changed now. I also haven’t forgotten that they all essentially ignored our presence until Harry and Abby became friends with Ron. Over the years, they could have at least checked in or remotely acted nice. I also haven’t really forgotten that they were supposed to be your friends. Friends don’t do each other the way that they dropped you like a bad habit.”

Regulus grumbled. He would forever have a slight dislike for every member of the order for how they treated you. It didn’t matter if Regulus was a death eater or not, they were your friends and should have been there for you.

How you were so kind and full of grace amazed Regulus. Your grace and dignity. That was two of the many things that Regulus loved about you. Even if someone did you down right dirty, most of the time you still acted with kindness. That didn’t mean that you wouldn’t put someone in their place if they needed to be, however.

“Dad is right. Mum.”

Abby replied, casually.

You turned your attention back to Regulus giving him a wary look. Abby calling the two of you “Mum” and “Dad” again had to be her way of asserting that the two of you being her parents would not change simply because Sirius was now in the mix.

“Right or not, we can’t just go down there and act like complete assholes.”

“Oh, I can.”

Regulus grumbled. You turned your attention to Harry, choosing to ignore Regulus’ comment.

“How are you feeling, dear?”

Harry shrugged.

“A bit uncomfortable, I guess.”

Regulus only had to agree with Harry on that one. This whole experience was about to be uncomfortable as hell.

“We might as well get this over with.”

Regulus murmured.

As expected, the dinner was an awkward meeting from hell. You found yourself sitting silently while members of the original Order carried on as if Regulus and yourself weren’t even there. You nearly made a comment a few times but decided not to. It didn’t seem to be worth it. Only Remus and Sirius made efforts to speak to the two of you. Regulus ignored both sitting in icy silence.

Both Molly and Arthur seemed almost afraid to speak to the two of you. Not that you really blamed them. From where they were sitting both Regulus and yourself had to seem pretty intimidating. Neither of you looked especially friendly. The two of you had to look like the stereotypical members of the House of Black at the moment…cold, icy, and haughty.

You were still a bit bitter about Molly abandoning your friendship when you married Regulus. Speaking to Molly about anything other than the children was almost too painful. You were not about to admit to Molly nor anyone else in the Order that they had hurt you. Old wounds were best left unspoken of and left in the dark. It seemed best, to you, to appear as if their abandonment really caused you no emotional harm at all. If there were one thing that you learned from having Walburga Black as a mother-in-law it would be to be able to hide your true emotions like a champ.

For Regulus, the dinner was just as awkward for him as it was for you…even if he didn’t let on. He, like you, was also thankful that his family taught him the art of being stoic and appearing “unfeeling.” It didn’t matter how many times Sirius nor anyone else, for that matter, tried to speak to him or appeared to try to get a rise out of him Regulus didn’t crack.

He wasn’t sure why anyone in The Order wanted anything to do with him anyway? To them, he was a death eater. He was dangerous. It didn’t matter the good that he did. It wouldn’t matter that he nearly died trying to stop Lord Snakeface. So what if Regulus wrecked his body trying to stop Voldemort? None of it would make any difference to anyone in this room (except you). In The Order’s eyes, Regulus would always be “tainted.”

“And in a way, I suppose that I am just fine with that.”

Regulus thought coldly. He would much rather someone hate him for some hair-brained stupid idea than blow smoke up his ass and pretend to care for him.

The next morning, Regulus sat at the kitchen table reading The Daily Prophet when Sirius came into the room. He didn’t look up from the newspaper as his older brother sat down. Regulus quietly tried to focus on the words in front of him instead of thinking about the last time that he and Sirius were in this room together.

The morning before he left…before everything changed…

Sirius, meanwhile, sat quietly for a moment. He wanted to say something to Regulus. The silence was making him nutty!

“So, don’t speak to me all at once.”

Sirius finally commented. Regulus didn’t look up from the newspaper.

“What would you like me to say?”

He questioned, keeping his voice cold and emotionless. Sirius ran a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know, Reggie. Just say something, anything. This silence…I don’t like it. You can tell me that you hate me if you want.”

Regulus still didn’t look up. The annoyance of Sirius calling him “Reggie” was starting to simmer.

“My name is Regulus. Don’t ever call me Reggie again, if you want to live.”

Regulus’ casual threat didn’t bother Sirius much. As kids, Regulus threatened to kill Sirius at least once a day. Being an adult and doing it seemed to be no different.

“Y/n calls you Reggie.”

Sirius commented.

“Y/n is my wife. She can call me anything that she likes. You…well we both know what you are to me.”

Sirius groaned.

“Right, I’m the blood traitor. I’m the one who shamed the most ancient and noble house of Black…blah blah blah I’m a no-good bastard that ran off and left everything to you.”

“Now I don’t have to say it.”

Regulus replied. He half expected Sirius to start yelling at that. When he didn’t Regulus took a breath.

“I wasn’t going to say any of that because none of its true. You made your choice because that was what was best for you. It didn’t matter if that meant leaving me in this house and making me feel as if I truly meant nothing at all to you. My suggestion is just to let all of that shit go because I don’t want to say anything more about it.”

Sirius sighed. There it was. That was the truth that he needed to hear. He did hurt Regulus and Regulus hadn’t forgotten it.

“It wasn’t to hurt you. I would have taken you with me but I knew that you wouldn’t go. That’s why you were the good son.”

Regulus finally looked up from his newspaper.

“Sirius, I said that I do not want to talk about what happened. It's over and time we both moved on. Neither Y/n nor Abby needs the aggravation.”

Sirius remained quiet for a moment.

“Abby said that I owe both Y/n and yourself a few thousand thank yous for everything and she’s right. I appreciate you taking her in and looking after her…”

Regulus only nodded.

“I would hope that you would have done the same for me, had shoes been on the other foot.”

“You know that I would. Regulus, I get that we aren’t best buddies anymore but you are still my brother. I also know that I did Y/n wrong with the whole getting another girl pregnant but…she seems genuinely happy with you. I think that we both know that I would never have made any kind of a decent husband. She deserves to be happy.”

Regulus again looked up. Sirius was definitely right about that one. You deserved to be happy more than anyone else in the world.

“Yes, she does deserve to be happy and I’m happy that I am able to be the one to make her happy.”

Sirius leaned back in his chair and looked around the kitchen.

“Tell me that mum and dad were halfway decent to her.”

Regulus finally gave up on reading his newspaper and sat it down. There was no way that he was going to escape Sirius.

“Believe it or not, I think that Mum and Dad liked her better than she did either of us. I think that they felt awfully shitty about her family disowning her for loving me. They saw it as an act of revenge for stealing a Potter child since the Potters got you. Dad adored her. He said that she was the one bright spot in our family and I couldn’t agree more. Marrying her was the one thing that I did to make that man proud.”

Before Sirius could respond, Abby walked into the room. She gave Sirius a wary look before going over to Regulus.

“Where is mum?”

Regulus turned to Abby, raising an eyebrow at her seemingly nervous demeanor.

“She went shopping to get some things to brighten this haunted house up a bit. She should be home soon. What’s wrong?”

Abby chewed on her bottom lip. She looked between Regulus and Sirius before speaking again.

“Can you call her and have her come home?”

“Abby, what is it?”

Regulus asked, keeping his voice calm and even. Abby muttered a few words quietly and all crammed together. Regulus blinked a few times.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Sirius decided to try his hand.

“I know that I am getting old but I did not hear a word of that.”

Abby finally groaned.

“I got my period, okay?!”

She turned and stormed from the room without another word. Sirius’ mouth dropped while Regulus acted as if nothing happened.

“So do we take her to the hospital?”

Sirius finally asked as he stood up to pace around the room. Regulus rolled his eyes and shoved his newspaper away. This morning just kept getting better! All Regulus wanted to do was read the newspaper in peace. That definitely wasn’t happening now.

“Tell me that you don’t know a thing about women without telling me that you don’t know a thing about women. I’ll handle this while you be the designated basket case of stupid.”

Sirius only nodded.

“Regulus, I owe you one.”

Regulus stood up and moved to walk out of the room.

“You owe me a few thousand things.”

_____

@amelie-black @jessyballet @knreidy1 @georgeweasleydumbhoe @justfinishthis @fific7 @mimisparkle12 @teletubiswszpilkach @criminalyetminimal @siriuslyceleste @goldendustwoman @littleshadow17 @livshifts @jsjcue @ell0ra-br3kk3r @bxcndd @stelleduarte @millies0bsimp @coffeeaddictednymph @readtomeregulus @saramaple @missgorldafirst @i-love-scott-mccall @s-we-e-t-t-ea @taylor-will-be-the-death-of-me @buttercup-beeee @f4iryluvy @panpride @bennyberry @gugggu6gvai @yousmellllikecaca @quinis @mentally-unstable-hoe @daddyslittlevillain @goldensunshineshit @haroldpotterson @aurorasnape12 @ad-astra-again @dumybitch @marichromatic @melaninnbarbie @ravenhood2792 @play-morezeppelin @spideyxalmighty @lucasfilms77 @rubyroscoe1 @brokencasbutt67-writer @authoressskr @moldy-old-boot @hankypranky @summer-novak @emiwrites3reads @shaylybaby2032 @li0nh34rt @tas898 @deanwherescas @shitfaceddaniel-blog @sprnaturallover @wontlookaway @knight-of-gleefulness @untoldshortsofthefandoms @deanwherescas @mycuddlycorner @padf00ts-l0ver @un-lovesherself

[mitamicah]

New look but same old commissions!!

I updated my commission sheet so it also fit with IG - all information is the same as the previous (x)

I will link terms and conditions under the line :3

Terms and Conditions

1 General Information

At this time, I will be taking digital art commissions only.

Standard canvas size: 1200x1600 px, 300 dpi.

It is possible to ask for a different canvas size - the price will be raised for a bigger canvas and lowered slightly for a smaller one.

I have a limit of up to 5 characters per canvas unless something else is agreed upon.

Are you interested in a style not featured feel free to ask me and I can give you an offer.

2 Ownership

As the artist I own the final product: Please credit me if you post it (with permission) and do not delete the signature.

The art must not be used commercially.

3 Drawing limits

Things I will draw;

OCs; Shipart (within reason); Humans/humanoids; Animals of the canine, feline or equine families (cats, dogs and horses); Dragons; Anthropomorphic characters (to an extend); Children (to an extend); Elderly characters (to an extend); Fanart (more later); Armour (to an extend)

Things you have to ask me about;

SFW nudity; Muscular men or women; Big-busted women; (Mild) Gore; Monsters with undefined features; Birds, big fish and other less often drawn animals (eg. goats, rhinos, elephants, bears etc.)

Thing I won’t draw

NSFW nudity and scenes; Hateful art (lgbt-phobia, racistic, ableism etc.); Fetish art; Super detailed backgrounds

Specifically about fanart

I will gladly draw fanart of properties (movies, franchises, books etc.) that I know of and may also be persuaded to try fanart for stuff that I don’t know.

Please keep in mind that no matter what I will draw it in my style; I won’t replicate the style from a specific show/manga/book etc.

4 Work in Progress updates

I'll send work in progress (WIP) pieces when I am done sketching. Exceptions will happen when:

The owned art is a sketch drawing.

You communicate that you are not interested in wips

5 Payment options

At this time, Payment will happen through paypal only.

I will send you an invoice using the PayPal address you've stated in the commission form (more later).

The invoice will be in Danish Kroner, DKR.

Please do NOT send any money before I've accepted your commission.

Please pay within 3 days of getting the invoice - if this is not possible send me a dm/mail.  

Have I not recieved the payment within the 3 days' deadline, the deal is off.

It is not possible to split the payment. (aka paying half now and the other half later)

6 Refunds

As a commissioner you can get refunds before I send the first wip and/or if I do not update you within 14 days.

updating include the following;

sending you notes about the progress.

showing you wips of the progress.

being tagged in posts about possible setbacks.

If you decide to cancel your commission following the description above, you get 75% of your money back (little fee of asking for a refund).  

If you want refunds for any other reason than stated above, the same rules still apply IF you ask before the first wip has been sent.

If you ask for refunds AFTER the first wip the percentage will be calculated depending on how far I've gotten in the drawing process.

7 How to order

If want to commission me, please either DM me or send me a mail at thebadgerfoxdraws@gmail.com

If you want to make it easier for me you can fill in this form:

Username:

Offer: (eg. sketch bust)

Character(s): the name(s) and pronouns of your character/person(s) you want me to draw (to make sure I don’t misgender any character/person I may not know).

Reference(s): reference picture(s) of each character/person – (I prefer fullbodies for original characters). Please choose reference pictures in a good quality.

Background: (if you are not interested in a background or are indifferent, please tell me so as well).

Paypal adresss: (e-mail that I may send the paypal invoice to).

Other: some other details worth knowing - do you have a pose or expression in mind? do you not want wips? Etc.

[necro-hamster]

RULES ;

WHAT I WILL DO:

- Humans/Humanoids - Animals (Including fantasy creatures) - Furry/Anthro/Alien - Original Characters - Fanart - OC/Canon - Shipping - Character design/Character sheets* - NSFW** - Gore**

*These will cost more than the standard commissions. Provide me with info, and I’ll give you a quote!

**I have limits! If something goes beyond what I’m comfortable with, I have every right to turn down the commission. I will never make any type of post smearing you for what you requested even if I turn you down. I likely will not post NSFW images, and may request you leave me anonymous in reposts.

WHAT I WON’T DO;

- Mechas - Animation - Anything I deem to be racist, homophobic, transphobic, etc. in nature - Inc//est/Ped//oph//elia - Anything that's meant to mock or belittle somebody else - Real people* *This is okay if you have their explicit written consent. This rule also doesn’t apply to actors playing characters, obviously!

TERMS OF SERVICE;

- My work is not to be used as an NFT or to be fed through any AI generation programs. - My work is not to be used commercially. If you want to use my work for sale, we can work that out, but if you don’t explicitly commission me with this purpose, you can’t use my work on merchandise, advertisements, etc. - Do not claim the work as your own. If you post it anywhere else, including in edits of any kind, link back to my social media. - If your commission is above $49, I require half payment up front, and half once the job is completed. - I do not accept refunds. If you aren't satisfied about some part of the work, you let me know while I'm sending you WIPs, not a week later.

COMMON QUESTIONS;

Q: What type of payment do you accept?

A: I (almost) exclusively take payment through PayPal. I'm in the US, so I will be receiving my payment in USD. If you're from outside the US, please factor in conversion rates. It's not my job to help you with this. I'm also okay with payment through my Kofi, but will request a few extra dollars to cover the fees.

Q: What's your turnaround rate?

A: More often than not, I'll get a commission done within a week. Obviously, depending on how many commissions I have on my plate, this can vary, but I will always keep you updated and say beforehand if I'm a bit backed up.

Q: Can I use my commission for my YouTube, Twitter, Instagram, etc.?

A: Absolutely! So long as you aren't actively profiting directly from the commission by selling it (I.E., as stickers or on shirts), you can use it however you want! If you do want to use a commission for merchandise, we can work something out for that specifically.

Q: Can I make edits to my commission after I receive it?

A: Sure! I don't really care, it's yours after all. I just ask that you specify that any edits you make are by you when reposting or sharing the edited picture. (Ex: "This picture was a commission done by necro-hamster! He did the lineart, and I colored it in later.")

Q: Do you do deadlines?

A: Absolutely! If you want something done by a certain date, we can totally work something out. Depending on the deadline you're asking for, this may come with an extra fee. For instance, if you want something done in two days, and I have several other comms on my plate, I can bump you to the front of the list for a hefty fee. But, if you just ask me to finish something easy up by the end of the month, and I don't have much else piled up, I probably won't charge you.

Feel free to DM me if you have any questions! If you're interested in a commission, either message me here, or email me at necro.hamster.art@gmail.com!