#but like it took me days to figure out a color scheme for this blog

[vertebrae-entertainment]

1.25.23 - ‘Anchor’

Hi y’all! Its been a while since we did a proper blog update, so i figured it was time i talk about the thing people usually talk about when i bring up the main character of our fishing game: “whoah, he’s a big dude huh?”

Designing a tough guy

When me and Åge first discussed this project, I told them two things would make me automatically passionate about it. The first was that the main character should be a hot dude, and the second was that he should be transgender. Now, at a glance it doesn't seem that complicated (and it really isn’t). I like hot dudes, I like to draw bulk, and I am a trans man myself. Seeing as we are a two-person team, there’s no CEO to tell me what I can and cannot do, so naturally this was how the basic concept ended up.

Following from there I started designing. I took some amphibious inspiration, building him sort of like a frog- top heavy and with long legs, lending itself well to animating acrobatics. I wanted to make him tall and menacing, with a shadow covering his face to make him seem mysterious. At the same time I couldn't forget his fishing lifestyle. In the end he ended up somewhere between Batman and Popeye, with a sprinkle of elegance for good measure. It turned out to lend itself really well to build him like he was hunting monsters for a living, as that was what the game was turning into.

After settling on a color scheme of black, white and red, and taking inspiration from the simplistic designs of the UPA-revival movement for ease of animation, I figured he needed a tattoo- both to top off the design and hint at his marine connection. The anchor seemed obvious! A symmetrical object right on the middle, plenty of body hair, and our main man was ready for the screen!

The tough guy through a queer lens

I have a huge soft spot for towering tough guys, it's no secret. From Conan to the T-800, this hyper masculine archetype may seem dated and boring to others, but personally I cannot get enough of it. What kind of pressure does it take to make a man two steps from a monster? In an odd sort of way, I suppose I find it relatable. Furthermore, I always find masculinity as a topic lends itself really well to a transgender lens- it's like free nuance! It is one thing to be born into this cruel, limiting role.. But what does it tell of a character, their story, when it is a choice?

Some people express confusion learning that this fisherman is transgender, which drives the question: should you be able to tell? Frankly, I think there should be a hell of a lot more trans men in media before we tackle this question. Assuming someone can’t be genetically tall and bulky due to the gender assigned at birth is an awfully dated idea to begin with, in my humble opinion.

I am out here making what I  would like to see a trans man in a videogame do, which is be huge, wrestle monsters and kiss cute guys. A topic me and Åge started tackling back in the Liquid State days was the concept of a trans power fantasy- which is exactly what it reads on the tin. While there are few men (trans and not) who fit into the shapely mold of a hyper masculine, sword-swinging barbarian god, many admire these characters and live out their fantasies through them.

Besides, you can tell! We specifically make excuses to show off his shark-teeth patterned top surgery scars because we want people to know. Hey, are you a trans guy that likes bulky dudes? This one’s for you!

In conclusion

While my inspirations are deceptively simple and reasons are uncomplicated, I often catch myself thinking about this design. Is it realistic? Is it alienating? Is it empowering? Is it wise? Even if he was designed straight from a trans man’s gut with no worries about the greater question of good representation, I often find myself thinking as though the task of representing all trans men lies solely on my shoulders. It is an unrealistic, unfair expectation. I am not all trans men, neither is he. 

His design and background is a love letter to one of my favorite types of characters, no doubt mixed in with years of queer, man-loving brain soup. He is what I like, and what I want to see in a video game. At the end of the day, I can only hope that what I enjoy also appeals to others.

So far, all signs point to yes. :)

This is our fanart wall, right by my desk at our office. I put them right where i can see them every day. Thanks for the support, folks- it means the world to me.

-Hauk Want to know more? Follow us here or on Twitter for regular updates on this project- or click here to join our discord!

[okkotsvs]

yo !! I just wanted to drop by and say that I love ur blog sm <3 from the aesthetics to your writing? I loVE it (great taste for liking yuta and Nanami too because. yeah. them <3)

tysm!! 🥲🥲 ty for your kind words <33

[flower-zombie-rob]

Hiya! I know you're favorite ego is Robbie, but which of your drawings of him is your favorite?

Ooooo thats really really hard!!!!!

I have a few ones of robbie that I'm particularly proud of, firstly, the one that's currently my banner. I just think its really cute and I'm really happy with how simple and cosy it feels, as well as the way I dove into a little lighting, which I dont normally do.

Now I've also got this one of Robbie in an experimental Iris facility. This one, despite me really liking the color scheme and pose, has a special place in my heart because someone wrote a whole little fanfic based on it, which was absolutely amazing!!! I always like using glass to make texture and in general I liked the concept of this drawing and the background is all eerie. It's one of my slightly more serious ones, which are far and few between with my cartoonish art style.

But there's also these delightful little things, which are not only special because I think the poses in general of everyone in the frame are quite good, but because theyre drawings of an actual event! When I went to Comic-Con October, I met up with a few really cool jse creators and we spent the day cosplaying the egos. The photos we took that day were so fun that I just had to make them into drawings, so they are very personal to me and remind me of a good memory!!

These 2 are also really cute for no reason other than I felt really confident about them and I think they were just really good drawings and presentations on how much I love the character! They both just show him being who he is, a soft, sweet, baby zombie boy, and I love that a lot! Thats all I ever want out of a robbie drawing.

So there's a lot of stuff for me to decide when figuring out my favourites, mostly because I draw him so often!!! But yeah, these are my personal highlights, top two are probably my banner brick wall graveyard drawing and the doodling drawing where i drew multiple robbies, which one was your favourite? Id love to hear what peoples favourites were with my drawings of this character, whos so important now to my personal brand on this blog!

[auxiliarydetective]

I posted 8,240 times in 2022

That's 6,732 more posts than 2021!

689 posts created (8%)

7,551 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@badassbiburgerbob

@daughterofhecata

@darth-rhiannon

@mondfahrt

@literary-squagon

I tagged 3,552 of my posts in 2022

#hogan's heroes - 656 posts

#peter newkirk - 360 posts

#incorrect quotes - 317 posts

#the a team - 294 posts

#the orville - 264 posts

#die drei fragezeichen - 228 posts

#die drei ??? - 221 posts

#star trek - 193 posts

#quotes - 192 posts

#louis lebeau - 186 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#aka vickey gets upset and says something that you can't really translate that well so newkirk translates her posh saying into cockney slang

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

@florida-irl Clara/Balloracore! Definitely shows more of the Ballora side, but a possessed Ballora, so...

See the full post

48 notes - Posted January 27, 2022

#4

I made another animation. Or I extended this one. Psst... It has sound... Not really well-timed sound, but it has sound!

I now declare the Jelena purple vs yellow debate settled once and for all: Our queen gets both!

58 notes - Posted February 6, 2022

#3

Tada! Finally!!! Please click on the image for better quality.

This is my fanart for @sketchinarkomana's Toxic Boy AU! Sanji meeting Inari!

This took me so long, you have no clue... I can't figure out anatomy, not any day, so I have to rely on bases. I had to think a few days on how to get this done because I couldn't find just one base that would work. Finally, I settled for a little comic and edited three bases to fit it.

The little story behind this is: We're sometime after WCI timeline-wise. Inari is just relaxing, waiting for her crewmates and... Well, this isn't the Sanji she expected. Sanji meanwhile halfway panics because he mistakes Inari for her twin sister Pudding. A little bonding time over their similar childhoods later and they're besties now.

Now, for the colors. I originally planned for this to be directly after the timeskip, which is why Inari's hair is pink - she's bound to Big Mom. But this would also be the case after WCI. I've always loved those three-eyed sunglasses and this base just screamed for me to finally draw one! You might think Inari's outfit is familiar - that's because it's heavily inspired by Pudding's outfit during her first appearance in the Fishman Island Arc. As for Sanji's outfit, I realized there was sort of an old version (dress shirt, keychain, high-waisted pants) and a new version (t-shirt, no chain, low-waisted pants), so... I fused them! I was too in love with the chain not to

For Sanji, I had a bit of creative freedom because all the references I had were in black and white. I asked about what color scheme to use and went from there. His outfit colors were set but I took liberties with the rest. I intentionally used different color palettes for Regular!Sanji and Toxic!Sanji, with Regular!Sanji looking more like a normal human and being more tanned and Toxic!Sanji being paler. That just felt right. Yellow is a warning color so, even though I usually don't like it when people make his hair lemon-colored, I made it a bit more vibrant. The jump to the purple eyeshadow came pretty quickly then because yellow and purple have a great contrast.

Finally, there was lots of dead space in the bottom panel, so I filled it up with the names of Inari and Sanji's devil fruits and their names. This is my third color scheme for the Kami Kami no Mi, oops... Again, there were no colors for the Duku Duku no Mi, but I always associate poison with purple and then I went for purple and yellow again.

Bases by Louane-Knight and Asta9 on DeviantArt

66 notes - Posted April 20, 2022

#2

Has anyone done this before?

192 notes - Posted May 17, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Dear Hogan’s Heroes fandom, there is a scene in "Is There a Traitor In The House" where Klink says "Schultz, turn on the speaker." It has MAJOR vibes of "Pull the lever, Kronk!" Please, I beg you, tell me I'm not the only one who hears that and someone make this a thing. I do not have the skill

192 notes - Posted February 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[piripaprika]

Awaited Your Arrival (Diluc x F!Reader)

Awaited Your Arrival (Diluc x Reader Smut)

SUMMARY: Diluc went out on a stupid mission, you waited for him, things get steamy n fluffy at the end. I wrote this on my twitter, didn’t beta it in the slighest, but since the genshin fandom’s writing amazes me I wanted to share my two cents with all of you amazing people.

Tags: AFAB reader, choking if you squint, also a praise kink if you squint, some dumbification if you squint too, fingering, facesitting, teasing, light nipple play, overstimulation, y’all fuck in the grass on a hill, so I guess exhibitionism if you squint, but it’s nighttime so I don’t really know if it counts LMFAO, subtle dom diluc, subtle sub reader.

WC: very long like 70-something twitter posts, so like, almost 4k words

NOTES: this is also crossposted onto my other blog, bangingoutthetunes! 

~~~~~~

“I’d missed you terribly, Diluc.”

“Oh, is that so?” Your lips gave way to a laugh envied by the long-set sun.

His lips curled into a smile, or at least as much as a man of his stoicism could smile, at the notion that he had crossed your mind during his hour-long errand. It had been a thoughtless task for a sword wielder of his caliber. The menial nature of killing elemental slimes, ever cumbersome to travelers on the outskirts of Mondstat, had allowed his mind to wander to how beautiful you looked illuminated by his fireplace when the living room was had all to yourselves, no one else accompanying the two of you on your rendezvous.

The fire’s warm glow and crackle emphasized the beauty of your silhouette,  your head tossed back in bliss as his ever-permanent grip on your hips remained steadfast through his thrusting. Taken aback by his mental wandering, he blinked himself back into the sight before him your presence an ailment for sore eyes. The scent of sin flooded his nostrils as he stepped closer to you.

“I’d missed you dearly.” He had as sharp a tongue as it was reserved; he’d never dare say something he wouldn’t commit to.

"It really is wonderful to be in your embrace once more. I never tire of your presence. And, as such, I prepared something for us.” Taking your hand in his, he rested your knuckles on his lips, peppered in kisses, and Diluc smiled into the delicate sign of affection. He cocked an eyebrow as he looked into your eyes, which hid the secrets of his universe in their obscurity.

He took your bare, manicured fingers and laced them with his own leather-gloved hands; once more, he felt a shiver crawl down his spine as he recalled that same hand steadying your weight on his chest, digging its nails into his silky and sweaty flesh.

“An arrangement? Please, lead the way, my love.” A soft giggle shaped beautifully with the symphony of cicadas, grasshoppers and wind that played for the two of you tonight.

Your grip tight in his hand, you led him through the vineyard he called home to a hill a hundred or so meters from where you stood awaiting his arrival. There, at the top, laid an old, but spacious, quilt with a bottle of the vineyard’s sweetest grape juice and sandwiches hidden from the elements beneath a glass lid.

“Since you’d been out bartending all day and barely stayed for dinner, I figured the least I could do was ensure you had something pleasant to return to after a tiresome day.” You raised his gloved hand to rest on your cheek. Now you were the one to fluster the beautiful red-haired man as you learned into his hand, the knuckle of his index finger pecked by your lips. In spite of his warm color scheme, the fire wielder was rarely ever one to get hot in the face, but when you looked up at him between fluttered eyelashes and ease written all over your face, his heart melted, and he only knew of you in that frozen slice of time.

His response was innate; his right hand gripped the small of your waist and hoisted you onto his chest, and in an effort to steady yourself your calves wrapped themselves behind his tailbone. With you steady in his hold, he made his way towards the hill’s crest. You giggled in his embrace and your eyes widened in surprise when he laid you down on the area behind the quilt with a soft thud. Still pressed flush against you, Diluc buried himself into the crook of your neck and your breath hitched in your throat. Your warm exhale tickled the outer shell of his ear. He sighed into your collarbone and shuddered as he sat up, straddling your hips in the process.

Placing one hand in between the valley of your chest and the other in your hair, he leaned down once more to place a hungry kiss on your half-parted and expectant lips. His kiss felt hot, and incredibly desperate, his fervor akin to that of a a god starved of his ichor. His lips were soft and gentle, like the beating of a Phoenix’s wings, as they embraced your own in wet pops.  As he became needier, shakier, bolder still, he slipped his fingers on the plush of your chest and kneaded the flushing tissue in time with his ministrations.

Letting go of your hand, if just for a moment, he nibbled the tips of his gloves off of his hands and cast the pair aside with a hushed whisper onto the quilt. He ran his fingers through the front of his scalp as he marveled at the sight of you, so soft and pliant beneath him. The moon, ever envious, shone a light on your husband to catch sight, if just for a moment, of his splendor. “I must express my gratitude to you for your ever-delicate preparations, my love.”

“You know I adore you, and I know you would do the same for me.”

With a gentle tug on your scalp, he removed his hand from your hair and slid it up your waist, resting it just above your ribcage. Your hips twitched involuntarily into his own and he moaned into your kisses, prodding his tongue past your lips to lick your teeth. The delicious sensation coaxed another twitch of your hips into Diluc’s crotch. He felt your pebbled nipple through the fabric of the thin nightgown you wore as he rolled your areola in between his index and middle fingers. When your honeyed sighs would melt into soft moans, your husband would smooth the sensitive flesh over with his thumb. However, just when you thought his teasing was over, he begin to pinch at you the slightest bit harder once more.

Diluc parted his eternal kiss, a thin string of saliva connecting your tongues, and he dove into the flesh between your jaw and earlobe; the possessive side of him he’d often kept tucked away was fond of nibbling you where he knew anyone would notice, the whispers and side glances of others damned. At his behest, scarlet and violet flowers bloomed beneath the topmost layer of your skin, and they trailed from your jaw down to the dip in your collarbone. In between his teasing and the warm summer air, the linen of your nightgown had begun to stick onto your skin. Taking notice of your discomfort, Diluc began to unfasten the clasp of your top to let the cooling night air kiss you alongside him.

His hands cupped your cheeks and his left pinkie stroked the underside of your jaw as his brilliant vermillion eyes bore into your own. The corners of his eyes crinkled and they shone, rare unadulterated affection seeping from his gaze. Your head tilted, only slightly, and you took his thumb in between your teeth, nibbling it as you rolled your hips up once more. Diluc hissed at the grind, eyes fluttering shut while he basked in the sensation.

Diluc’s breath hitched in his throat, head thrown back at the satisfaction brought about by your ministrations. There was only so much you could have done lying beneath him, but as your hips rocked together gently in sync, he lost himself in the moment once more. He undid the laces of his collared shirt and tugged the offending material to the side, exposing the soft flesh of his toned chest. His fingers glided over your skin, a hand coming to rest below your jaw, thumb and forefinger locked at its apecies. The weight of his knuckle rested at your windpipe as choked you slightly, your head dizzying at the delicious feeling, and stars began to crowd at the corners of your eyes.

Diluc’s free hand came to rest at your own, squeezing it gently. He then brought it up to his parted lips, hot breath tickling the goosesflesh, and placed a kiss on the backside of your palm before bringing the pads of your fingers to rest on the middle of his chest. “Indulge me, won’t you?”, he commanded softly but sternly. Only you knew him well enough to understand that he was now begging for your touch. You dug mindless, but pretty, patterns into his skin, and had he received the faintest bit of sunshine on his chest the pressure would barely enough to leave the faintest of pinks. However, your dearest night owl’s pale milky skin burned an angry red where you had marked him. Scratch marks trailed down his sternum.

Itching to get out from underneath him, you tugged at his shirt collar and pulled yourself up to encase his puffy lips between your own. You tugged at his ponytail to steady yourself as you shifted your legs, coming to sit atop his strained and needy cock. Diluc was a terribly skilled tease, and he knew his gentle tender touch would never enough to sate your hunger. His fingers fluttered to caress every inch of your body he could get a hold of. You understood, that for the sake of prudency, he was trying to hold back, but his hungry eyes could never lie to you. Your fingers laced themselves together at the back of his neck, and you once more pulled him into a searing kiss. Surprised by your initiative, Diluc rested his forefinger and thumb at your chin, intent on bringing you as close to him as he could. Diluc's right hand trailed up your torso as he moaned into your tongue’s prodding, long and slender fingers pulling you ever closer into his embrace.

In contrast to your near nudity out in the open, your lover still wore far too much for your liking. There were far too many layers between the two of you, especially now that you wanted nothing more than to feel his skin on your own. You brought your hand back to the base of Diluc’s collarbone and tugged at the loose neckerchief, casting it aside to meet his gloves. Your hands pulled at his jacket’s collar, urging him to discard the burdensome coat; Diluc caught on to what you’d desired, and rid himself of his button up shirt, the layers above it, and the sash that held his vision. Pesky garments removed, the two of you shivered in tandem when a sharp breeze cut through the still night. Your nipples hardened further at the cold feeling, and Diluc, ever-present, felt them pebble against his skin. He grunted at the feeling, cruel and tantalizing.

With a gentle pop, he excused his lips from your own and acquainted his hot and wet tongue with your chest, prodding to elicit a reaction. A heady moan left his mouth when you tugged his long locks of his ruby-esque hair in time with the grinding of your hips.

"I beg of you, my darling, why don't you tell me how much you adore my lips on your skin?” Diluc’s tone was commanding and needy, all the same, as he kissed and licked at your chest. He seemed intent on finding the patches of skin that made you shiver in his grasp and sing his name. His grip held you firmly in place as his hips bucked into your crotch. Your resolve began to waver at the sight of his sharp, and almost predatory, lust-ridden gaze staring up at you. Through it all, his sweet lips and sharp tongue continued to nip at the most sensitive skin on your chest. “Come on, my love, sing for me.”

“Ha-haaaa~, just p-please, stop teasing and fuck me stupid already, 'Luc...” His teasing came to a brief stop as he glanced over at the untouched sandwiches and grape juice bottle. He shrugged and looked up at you, panting: “You’re the meal I’d been dying to taste all night anyways.”

With unsurprising ease, Diluc pulled you down so your hips straddled his own, and his fingers teased the edge of your nightgown. They feathered their way onto your ass and gave it a rough slap for good measure. His manicured nails scratched the apex of your thighs, tantalizingly close to your wet slit.

“Be a good girl, spread your legs for me, and hold still.”

With that, he wrapped his hand over your thigh and began to dig his palm into your hidden clit. Your body shook, face buried into the small of his neck, and you bit down on his skin to muffle the sighs and groans of pleasure his teasing elicited. When you nodded in approval into his cheek he plunged his fingers inside; spongy walls, warm and wet, greeted him and sucked him in eagerly. His middle and ring fingers prodded so deep and so well that they threatened to tease at the opening of your cervix. He began to rock his fingers at a steady face as his other fingers applied pressure to your perenium.

“Diluc, please, I need more,” you whispered into his ear, hot breath fanning into the outer shell. The proximity of your warm lips to his earlobe made him buck into you once more, and a moan left the two of you as a symphony. “You’re doing amazing, please fuck me, I need you.”

He held you ass in a vice grip as he thrust his index finger in, scissoring the canal to ease the passage of his coming cock. Your soft pants and moans in one ear and the squelching in his other drove him to an ever-quicker pace. He ground his palm into your clit further. "God, please, just like that keep going. You’re doing ama-aahhh…“ your words faltered at the tip of your tongue as he thrust the index and middle fingers of his other hand into your cunt, beckoning the spongy flesh of your sweet spot to let you come undone. "J-just like that, fu-fuuuck…”

He removed his palm in favor of the first fingers he plunged into you. His deft and slender fingers, riddled in callouses and soaked with your secretion, coaxed your bundle of nerves out of its hood. Chasing your orgasm, he rubbed your clit into its hood and beckoned its head into the pads of his fingers.

“N-nnghn, Diluuuc, ’m gonna cum…” You couldn’t see, you couldn’t hear, you couldn’t think; the only thing flooding your mind was him. The white-hot heat that had warmed your arms and legs crashed onto you, drowning you in nothing but bliss and the sweet scent of release. You heard the red-haired vigilante groan into your ear, his cock straining still against your crotch, desperate for attention.

He pulled you up to sit on his sternum, your cunt dangerously close to his deviant tongue. Diluc’s gaze sharpened as he admired you above him, tits out and skin flushed with arousal.

“Get on your knees and hike up the skirt.” As you heeded his command, he kicked his boots off and undid his belt, shimmying his pants off to expose his precum-coated dick to the elements.

You began to gently lower yourself onto his hungry lips, but a low growl from beneath you was all you heard before he pulled your hips down to rest snug against his lips. The sensation of his mouth sucking your labia dry made you pant as you ground your hips into his face. As he licked up your slit like a kitten lapping up his milk, his nose buried itself into your clit, and his grip on your hips tightened, presumably in satisfaction, as you moaned wantonly into the night.

You instinctively tried to back away from the overstimulation, but his strong hands keep you steadfast above his face. Mind wandering, you couldn’t help but muse that he wouldn’t mind dying suffocated in between your thighs with the fervor he was devouring you.

With the umpteenth pop of the night, he licked up to your clit and rolled the hood as gently as he could in between his teeth. You keened over, pulling on the grass, knuckles glowing white. He held your thighs in place, grip tightening, his own hands as pale as the sun, like a man on death row consuming his last meal. Looking over your shoulder to distract yourself from the overbearing stimulation, you noticed that his hips, his cock twitching slightly below his belly button, were rolling into nothing. Precum glistened on his tip. With a tug on his ponytail, you signaled that it was time to ease up. His muffled groans begged to stay in his heaven.

You removed his hands from their purchase on your thighs and shifted downwards, his cock flush in between your ass. You pressed a chaste kiss onto his mouth, fingers tangled in his own and in his hair, and you could taste the familiar saltiness of your secretion on his lips and tongue.

He groaned into your kiss as his hand lined his cock up to your entrance. He barely managed to whisper “Ride me” before he rutted his hips into your cunt. You shifted yourself back, palms now digging into his chest, and you took in his thick length as you began to shift back onto his torso. Diluc's hips twitched as he bottomed out into you, a delicious sensation overcoming you once more as the head of his dick acquainted itself with the most sensitive areas of your canal. The ribbed walls of your slick fluttered around him, and he grabbed onto your tit to steady himself.

You began to bounce yourself at an experimental pace, hips slowly rocking into his own as you adjusted to his girth. After having been patient for so long, though, Diluc’s virtue had been spread thin. He shifted his hand onto the small of your back and pushed you flush against him once more. The hand that had lined up his dick now held the side of your hip, hoisting you up slightly so he could bury himself to the hilt. After a few languid thrusts, you brought your hips down to meet his in rhythm as you rocked yourself back and forth, sweet moans and heady whines echoing into the dead of night.

“You feel so good for me, sweetheart,” Diluc murmured, his eyes shining, his gaze glazed over with desire and adoration. Sweet words of praise fell straight into your cunt and you bucked into his thrusting more quickly, chasing the precipice that dropped into unmatched pleasure.

Your pace picked up when you felt the head of his cock twitch inside you, pulsing with desire for you to milk him dry. His tight grip on your hip and scratches on your back, coupled with his silent chant of “I love you, you’re mine, an angel” into your kisses all but sent you over the edge.

"You’re so fucking wet, it feels delicious,“ Diluc hissed into your ear, voice viscous with lust. It was too much to bear, and you felt yourself begin to come undone and drown once more, filled to the brim with salacity that satisfied your desire.

You were ever closer to that seemingly unreachable precipice, and the hand at your back pushed you into his chest. Diluc’s intent at that moment was clear; he wished for nothing more than to mold the two of you together into a renaissance masterpiece. Diluc saw you lean in and place a kiss on his nose, tears beginning to brim at your eyes from how thick and heavy and delicious he felt inside your fluttering cunt. Your touch was tender against the soft skin of his cheeks, your lips were half parted, silky and swollen with sin; to Diluc, the angelic expression on your face was a beautiful contrast to how harshly you ground your hips into his own, chasing the release you’d coveted for what felt like forever.

The gentle forte crescendoed and the knot in your abdomen snapped. You saw nothing, black, emptiness, and them him, Diluc, hair disheveled, eyes glazed, tongue lolling, breath panting. The wind was knocked out of you in a loud cry; and Diluc’s cock was milked dry within you as it twitched and pulsed inside your entrails. This feeling is what drove mankind to insanity; this is what everyone chases after and sinned against themselves for. Diluc, ever steadfast, ever loving, gave you his everything expecting nothing in return.

There was a deep whine hidden behind each heave of breath he huffed out against your skin, and you were sure he came just as hard as you had. Silence, the idyllic kind you remembered in fond memories, overcame the two of you as heat and desire emanated from your shared skin.

Diluc’s whisper was soft, gentle, loving: "I’d missed you just as much as you missed me. I promise you we’ll have these sandwiches for breakfast tomorrow... unless my fair lady craves a post-coital snack?” You giggled into his chest, a smile painting itself on your lips.

“Truly, love, I’m all fucked out; all I want in life is to fall asleep beside you; we can worry about sandwiches and unfermented wine in the morning.”, you huffed into his chest.

Diluc sat up, hoisting his arms beneath your shoulders, and fumbled for his coat, throwing it over your nude frame to protect you from the breeze. He pulled out with a muffled groan and laid you down on the old quilt as he gathered the wine and sandwiches into the basket they’d been brought in. He then carried you, and the basket in hand, as he did the day the two of you got married at the cathedral, taking the long way back to his estate.

You were warmth in his arms, cheeks flushed and hair tussled. To him you had never looked more breathtaking than you did in your vulnerability. He bumped the door of his manor closed with his hips and climbed the steps to your shared chambers, careful to not wake you, as he’d thought you had fallen asleep in his arms. He placed the basket beneath the nightstand and turned over the covers to bring you into bed, laying you with the jacket beneath you so the cold sheets wouldn’t disturb you. His clothes and boots were dammed to the elements. He only cared about you and resting after a long day.

He crawled into bed with you, pulling you into his chest, a long leg resting its thigh over your hip.

“I love you”, he whispered against your forehead, eyes shining as he pushed your hair out of your face.

You opened one eye to peek at him, and smiled: “I know.”

~fin<3

~requests open but I can’t guarantee I’ll do them, reblogs comments and shares always appreciated! Have a wonderful day<3

[nancypullen]

Progress

We’re making baby steps toward getting this house the way we’d like it.  I think it was Martha Stewart who once said that a house is always a work in progress.  While I agree with that, I’ve always thought that meant adding little things here and there, maybe updating a bathroom or two, or refreshing your color scheme or wall decor.  I want to get to a place where the “work in progress” is just new throw pillows or a pretty plant, ya’ know?  Okay, whine over. I confess that I’ve had fun the last few days.  I’d been on the hunt for a bedside table for Matt’s room.  I wanted something with a little character -  vintage, retro, whatever you want to call it.  I just didn’t want brand new factory-produced stuff.  I had poked around a couple of area antique stores and the stuff I found was either too big too small, too feminine, or too fragile.  I wasn’t having any luck.  Last Sunday we were driving back from dropping off the grandgirl and I was telling the mister all of that.  He asked if I’d looked at Goodwill. I had not.  So he pulled into the local Goodwill parking lot and I found the perfect piece right inside the front door for ten dollars.  Score!   It’s actually an old record cabinet, for storing albums - that made me love it even more.

I brought it home, cleaned it up, and got to work. It only took a couple of Snapped podcasts to get it to this point.

Why yes, that is a mountain of Amazon boxes in the garage.  We’re due for a trip to the recycling center.  Anywho, I put a nice, matte black on that cabinet and replaced the old knobs with these cool leather pulls.

Instead of albums, I filled it with National Geographic magazines because our family is big on National Geo.

And, HALLELUJAH, the carpet installers finally came this morning and I was able to put Matt’s room together.

That little cabinet worked out perfectly!  Whew! Just in time, too. Matt is flying in tomorrow and then the whole fam damily will be here for the holiday weekend.  I still have plenty to do in this room, but for now it will be cool and comfortable for him. I also had time to put a clear coat on that little chair I painted. Then I had to find a fern. I had my heart set on a fern, not flowers.  I figured I could substitute another green plant, I just didn’t want to do flowers, I thought it might be too busy for that multi-colored chair.  No one has ferns for sale in late June, it’s more of a “Hey, it’s spring!” plant.  Most folks have killed their ferns by now.  I crossed my fingers and drove down the road to Clayton’s, a big farm stand with green houses.  Lo and behold they had one fern hanging with a few scraggly leftover plants, and she was half price! Score!  So this sad chair with the broken seat....

is wearing some makeup and sitting on the front porch now.

Yippee!   I love it when things work out. Although we still need to buy granite for the kitchen counters and hopefully get the cabinets painted, I don’t even want to think about it right now. I think we both want a break from begging people to do some work.   I’m going to sleep like a baby tonight.  Most of what has been worrying me is now checked off the to-do list.  Tomorrow I’ll do a big grocery haul. I have forgotten how to feed a crowd. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner for six for several days? I’m thinking taco bar one night, something on the grill another, and everything else I can think of sounds too hot.  Can’t we all just sit around and eat watermelon? I’ll just keep sandwich stuff on hand for lunches, but everyone likes different things for breakfast.  Maybe I should just buy a tub of greek yogurt and some granola and we can do fresh fruit parfaits.  Or maybe I’ll win the lottery tonight and I’ll have the whole weekend catered.  That sounds best. Alright, I’m off to plan menus and make a grocery list. It feels like we’ve made some progress around here and maybe, just maybe, these blog posts will become less whiny and more interesting.  UPS just delivered a curtain rod that I ordered (I wanted one with a French return) so the panels I bought for the sliders will be up soon.  Starting to look like someone lives here!  I’ll keep you posted. I hope that this bit of fluff has distracted you for a few minutes from the craziness of life.  Hang in there, we’re all due for a win.  Good things are coming. I just know it. Stay safe, stay well, stay positive. XOXO - Nancy

[dragonofthedepths]

Poro-chan as he appears in my Devidol AU!

(That I have only mentioned once before in an almost throwaway manner on this blog but have discussed more than any of my other ideas on the discord, hehe. *awkwardly rubs back of head* I need to get together a full post on it sometime.)

I do not know how long this took me, and for once I do not care. This was 90% character design which is my absolute weakest point when it comes to art, and not only that it was 90% costume design which is by far my weakest part of character design! And despite being the weakest point of my weakest point I think the result is killer and I am so. Freaking. Proud. Of this!

Nishi is gonna revel Poro’s color scheme someday and completely overturn this, but too bad! Until that day comes I will cling gleefully to my golden Poro-chan. (Disclaimer: I did not have any kind of color scheme in mind for him at all when I started this drawing. I just got extremely attached when I started shading.) (Also I have like 5 different skin tones saved on invisible layers and this is neither the prettiest not the one that best matches my mental image but it’s the pretties one that comes anywhere close to my mental image without looking completely washed out. (Before I went ape with the gold everywhere I was thinking as black-and-white as possible.) I do not guarantee this will stay. I might give in to the pretty any make him much darker. I might figure out how to do even paler skin without looking weird and basically color him like milk. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk.)

[snarky-art]

My enchantix redesigns that I’ve had laying around for a while. I’m going through my computer to try and clear up space and came across some winx stuff. I haven’t done the wings for them still to this day in any finalized way because they are very intimidating to me lmao. Some info here on how enchantix outfits and fairy outfits work as well as the inspirations for the clothes for each of the characters below! I’m going to include some more individual design notes from my sketchbook later too.

In my version of the winx redo, all fairy transformations have to do with a sense of self to an extent. The more sure and secure of oneself one is, the more likely certain parts of the outfits are to carry over to the other transformations. For example: I have multiple transformations for Daphne that I’ve done, but there are a lot of traits carried over in the designs (her tirar, her color scheme, cut of cloth, etc) since she was always very self assured in who she was. She was Marion and Oritel’s daughter, future queen of Domino, and the keeper of The Dragon Flame and she was going to become as strong as she could for her people and the universe so she could use The Dragon Flame as best as possible. (I swear I’ll upload her stuff at some point they’ve been collecting dust for literal years now sskdjkjfla).

The same can’t really be said of the girls here, and that’s fine too. Aisha is the one with the most confidence in who she is and that shows here in the carrying over of her metal accents (arm bands, a metal ring at her waist, albeit with a jewel in it this time) and the cloth that goes across her chest and wraps around her waist.

Another thing that can influence the appearance of a fairy transformation is closeness with another individual. Aisha at this point already knows she likes Musa (I’m going to upload a post after this going more in depth on their relationship in my version) and her double buns are influenced by that since that’s one of the main ways Musa likes to style her hair (she also helped Aisha really perfect how to do the hairstyle and as that was one of the first thigs Aisha ever really did with a friend after Anne left when she was young and not including the pixies, so it holds a lot of sentimental value to her. Musa was the one who went out of her way a LOT more than anyone else to try and get Aisha comfortable with everything. The other girls did too of course but Musa just kind of gets how it feels to be alone more than they do so they really understood each other.) Musa in turn also has armbands like Aisha and some cloth hanging from the tie around her waist in a way similar to the cloth trail around Aisha’s.

Bloom also has similar armor to Stella because of this, since Stella is Bloom’s closest friend out of the 6 and is the one who introduced her to magic and what it can mean to be a fairy.

Enchantix in itself works basically the same as it does in the show, and as the main focus of it is to save someone from your planet so you can become a guardian of it (there can be multiple guardians for a homeworld too. I always thought it was weird that it was implied there can only be one. The guardian fairies of a planet act as a protective council of sorts. They are expected to place the priority of protecting life on the planet above all else and sometimes align themselves with royalty as advisors for things if they it is requested of them by the royalty, but they are expected to be willing to break ties with any allegiance if the leader is doing things that upset the balance of the planet and enact cruelty, not that guardians have always done that in the past). As a result, it is tied closely to the culture of their homeworld, or the culture that the fairy is from if the planet doesn’t have a largely homogenous one.

Musa is based off of Chinese and Japanese culture, which is a really broad statement I know since there is so much that goes into those countries, but I tried my best to have it line up with the clothes she wears in the show and it seemed to be similar to that (and obviously her homeplanet is clearly inspired by Asia). Similar to what her original skirt seemed to be, the pants are inspired by paper lanterns, and the upper shirt part is inspired by the tops of dresses during the late tang dynasty. The design of the belt she has, although I didn’t really do a close up of it, is braided similarly to shimenawa (a rope used in ritual purification in the Shinto religion). She has an open lotus blossom that her hair is in the middle of that holds her buns in place and her makeup is based off of the Tang Dynasty and the little hair piece she has acting as her tiara thing (all the girls had one so I tried to carry that over) is based off of Quing dynasty hair styles specifically but like, similar hairstyles were used in other eras too I just liked those specifically.

Flora’s is based off of Mexican style clothes. The top part is based off of Folklorico dresses and the petal style I used for it is based off of marigold petals, which are used to lead deceased loved ones to the families shrine during Day of the Dead. Her makeup is also based off of designs seen on calaveras. Her head piece is a flower crown which is now a common staple seen in women’s fashion during festivals due to Freda Kahlo and her hair is divided into two parts. The upper part is pulled back into a braid that has a vine weaved in with it, which I took inspiration from hairstyles down there that thread ribbon into the braids.

Aisha’s was a trip to figure out. So her homeplanet really is,, something. There’s some middle eastern influence (her name is also Arabic), her mom and her when she was younger wore some 1500s style renaissance clothes, and also they have a shaman that seems to be based off of African medicine men, and then also there are mermaids wearing European style armor, so I had to do some looking around to figure out what I wanted to do here. In the end I went with Moroccan and Zulu style clothing overall with a few other influences as well and tried to mesh them together. The headpiece and the sash/hood are based off of women’s head dresses in Morocco and the facepaint, arm and leg bands are based off of traditional Zulu attire. Cowrie shells are on the bottom of the leg and arm bands as they are used in Zulu attire in the same place as well sometimes, but also because a lot of African cultures see cowries as being representative as gateways to the spirit world (a lot of cultures have the spirit world and afterlife tied to the ocean). Her stack of necklaces are based off of the necklaces worn by the people Ndebele people of South Africa. Her shorts and top are rimmed with silver and the shape of the attire itself is meant to be athletic and practical for her. It is covered in fish scales. Her ears are a different color here than they were in her winx transformation also. That isn’t an enchantix thing but a biology thing I have made up in my head for Androsian people. The fins start off a light shade and then over time settle into a darker color, which is what it will permanently be.

Tecna’s outfit is ready for the cold. For the longest time we didn’t know anything about her homeworld except that it was cold, so, anyway Russia and Siberia lmao. The green lines on her body suit have light moving through them also which I just thought was a neat idea because technology is a thing. Her glasses aren’t a permanent part of the outfit also. They come out if she wants to concentrate her magic to do something very technical and intense. I thought it would be a nice way to carry over that faceshield thing she sometimes used in her winx form. Her physical features btw are based off of the Nenets people of Siberia.

Stella’s outfit is Greek based because I’m not original and I don’t know why almost all of us collectively agreed Solaria is Greco-Roman but we sure did do it. Maybe it’s because of the word Sol being in it.

Bloom’s is just,, European lol. Domino is a Renaissance Era place it feels like (probably because of her mom’s ermine stoat cape). So there. There are some similarities of hers with Daphne’s inadvertently (family ties can influence things sometimes too, which can be seen in the Bloom and Daphne comparison sheet on my blog), but Bloom doesn’t know that. When Daphne eventually does see her in her enchantix outfit during the time of or before the movie (which does happen in my version but with a LOT of changes. Daphne still talks to Bloom though and helps out like in the movie) you bet your bottom she takes a second to collect herself (happy to see the bond is strong enough that it did manifest physically in a way, sad because she remembers what it was like to once have that transformation and the general bittersweet longing for the time before shit hit the fan. I have so much stuff about Daphne I need to upload some of it soon).

So yeah! Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk:)

[criminalminds4days]

Family Matters: Prologue

As promised, here is the prologue for the series. 

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, violence and murder reference, public embarrassment, and very bad jokes!

Word Count: 3.2k

Chapter Board | Next Chapter

Tag list: @mcntsee @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @evelyncade @haylaansmi @paulaern @myfandomlife-blog

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(This gif is not mine)

Prologue: Get It Together!

She was gonna do it. Yes, of course, she was. She had finished college, gotten a doctorate, taken down an armed serial killer, been held hostage and now she worked for the Behavioral Analysis Unit, one of the most exclusive and hard to join teams in the FBI, so of course she could do this! Yet here she was, breathing heavily as she tried to press the button, it was now or never.

Maybe never?

No! She couldn't be afraid anymore, she had to do it. She was twenty-eight years old, she couldn't just... But what if her age was the reason this was pathetic? No! She had to do it, she had to do it. There was no turning back, if her family found out about this she would be humiliated (yet again). She couldn’t just say that at her age she had fallen so low. She had to cover it up, there was no other way. But what if they found out anyway? No, she couldn’t allow such a thing.

Breathe.

"Are you okay?" The voice of her coworker made her jump and almost drop her phone. She locked the screen and turned to look at him. He seemed confused at her reaction, but she simply fixed her hair as if it was any other Monday and what she was doing was perfectly normal.

"I'm fine."

"You don't seem fine." He pointed out. That was Spencer Reid, always kind, always honest. His brown hair was a curly mess and his brown eyes stared at her intently as he fixed his navy tie, he was wearing a white dress shirt and grey dress pants, definitely not the attire she imagined ever seeing from the sweater-loving resident genius at the BAU, however, she resisted the urge to comment, instead focusing on the issue at hand.

"Thank you, what all girl wants to hear." She debated whether it was worth telling him or not. While she and the other Doctor on the team weren’t necessarily good friends, being held hostage together and taking a beating to prevent him from being killed creates a certain bond between people, so she decided to attempt and share her situation. “I was trying to... Ugh, this is so embarrassing." She placed her head in her hands, lamenting every second of her miserable life.

"I don't know, maybe if you tell me it'll be less embarrassing?" He asked.

He was trying to be helpful; she knew he was, and she appreciated that more than anything, but it was hard to share how low she had fallen despite her age and position. She knew if someone would listen and not make fun of her it would be the man sitting at the desk across from hers, but she just couldn’t phantom saying it out loud. Then again, he was a genius, and he was not known for his successful love life, so maybe, just maybe he would understand the situation better?

"I accidentally told my annoying cousin that I was dating someone and now I have to bring my boyfriend to her stupid wedding."

"So? How is that embarrassing?"

"I don't have a boyfriend!"

"Why did you say you did? How do you accidentally tell someone you have a boyfriend when you don't?" She knew he wasn't making fun of her, that he was genuinely perplexed, but that knowledge didn't help subside her irritation.

"I only said it because she kept ranting about how I was gonna die alone and she was better than me..." She looked at him, his brow raised. "Okay, maybe she didn't say it exactly like that, but the intention was clear!" She cleared hair out of her face and continued, "Anyway, because I clearly do not have a significant other, I thought that if I hired someone to be my boyfriend during the wedding, it might be less painful?"

"You decided that the best way to solve your problem, of lying to your annoying cousin about your love life was hiring a fake boyfriend?" She looked at him, and a small smile played on his lips. "How does that make sense?"

"It doesn't! But I'm out of options here and I don't know what to do!" Her leg started bouncing as she bit her lip. "The wedding is this weekend, and I will die before I admit I lied to bitchy Anna!"

"That's a little extreme, don't you think?"

"Spencer Reid, you have no idea how far I'll go to shut bitchy Anna up!"

"Who's bitchy Anna?" Another voice said as Emily Prentiss, a tall woman with clear skin and dark short hair made her way to them. She was wearing a white dress shirt with a matching black blazer and dress pants, her small heels making a click-clack noise as she walked. If only she could have the confidence and stamina of Emily Prentiss, she would not be in this mess. Though she couldn’t daydream of being the woman in front of them too much after hearing Spencer’s words.

"Her cousin to whom she lied about dating someone. Consequently forcing her to now look for a fake boyfriend for hire." Spencer spoke as if nothing was weird about the whole situation.

"Why don't you just take Reid? It's not like he has plans, right?" She suggested as an amused smile played on her lips.

She didn't even have time to be mad at the man for spilling out her most embarrassing secret like it was nothing, because Emily's words made her perk up. She turned to him and he quickly shook his head.

"No, there is no way. I hate weddings, and parties in general."

"You owe me!" She argued.

"What? I don't owe you anything!" He defended himself.

"Of course you do, you told Emily something I confided in you!"

"You didn't tell me I wasn't allowed to say anything!"

"Spencer, please, I will do anything you want in order to make bitchy Anna eat her words." She placed her most convincing puppy face and looked at him. This face never failed, on anybody. She had mastered the art at age five and from then on the only thing it couldn’t get her was a normal family. Actually, scratch that, it never really worked after she became ten and Anna had also mastered it, but she was hoping this would be an exception.

"No."

Well, she had already embarrassed herself enough, so what was more begging in the great scheme of things?

"Come on, it's not like I'm asking you to marry me! I'm just asking you to pretend to be in love with me for one day."

"Be careful, that's how a lot of love stories begin," Prentiss said teasingly as she winked at the pair.

"Come on, I will give you money, I will drive you to work for a month. Whatever you want, it's yours." She said, "and Prentiss, this is the real world, not some cheesy love story. Spencer and I are much too mature for those silly things."

"No, I'm mature enough to know better. You just offered anything I want on a silver platter so I can pretend to be your boyfriend at your cousin's wedding. Let that sink in for a minute." He said as his smile grew wider, an idea clearly appearing in his mind. "Let me see, how about, a whole year of rides to work and coffee, for 24 hours of being the fake love of my life."

"Deal." She stretched her hand to shake on it and he looked at her, slightly offended. "Sorry, I forgot. I will make sure to wash my hands more times than necessary and wear gloves all week because you do have to hold my hand during the wedding, couples do that."

"Real couples do that, and it's not very hygienic."

"Well, for Saturday we will be a fake real couple, so let that sink in for a minute." She said as she triumphantly left the scene. She was making her way to the elevator, until she remembered she couldn’t really leave as she had arrived only thirty minutes ago, and her shift was not over until five. She fixed her hair and walked back to her desk as if she hadn’t just embarrassed herself in front of two of her coworkers and continued her paperwork. She heard a laugh from Emily’s desk and didn’t even bother to look up. She had figured out her plan and now she just hoped it would not explode in her face, so a few laughs from her coworker were worth the trouble.

Truth be told, there was a much bigger reason she needed to have someone at the wedding, but Spencer and Emily didn't need to know that. They didn’t need to know why she was willing to feed Spencer Reid’s addiction to coffee and his hate for driving for a whole year rather than tell her cousin she was still single.

Before she knew it, the weekend had arrived and she was in her car, a two-door gray Scion she had very proudly named Matthew when she bought him last June, and she made her way to Spencer's complex. She waited for him in her car after letting him know she was outside. She took the time to look at her now straight hair and her barely visible make-up. She knew blue was Anna’s favorite color, as it was also hers, so she made sure to wear a turquoise dress for her wedding, this was going to be a productive night, for sure.

"Hello, darling." He said as he buckled his seat belt. He was wearing a black suit with a tie that matched her dress, provided by her. His hair was lazily pushed back, giving his fluffy curls volume. She wondered what it would be like to touch it? Spencer would never allow it; he loved his hair way too much.

"We are gonna have the time of our lives, babe." She winked at him and began driving to the venue.

Of course, Anna would use the same venue she had been wishing for her wedding because it wouldn't be Anna if she couldn't have absolutely everything she ever wanted and more. The woman didn't know how long ago this passive-aggressive feud between the two had begun but she'd be damned if she let her cousin beat her at it. She pulled Spencer by the arm gently as she made her way to their table, which was front and center, granting her cousin the ability to see who she had brought along.

"If it isn't my favorite cousin!" She exclaimed. The girl fought the urge to roll her eyes. "And who might this be?"

"Anna, this is my boyfriend, Dr. Spencer Reid. Babe, this is my cousin, Anna."

"Anna, newly Hemingway." She emphasized her last name. As she reached to stretch his hand, but he simply waved. "Pleasure." She said as she retracted her hand and looked him up and down. It was only natural for her to do such a thing. "So cousin, have you heard that the family retreat has a date?" She exclaimed with excitement. "It's in about two weeks. You two obviously coming, right?"

"We actually have a retreat, with our team from the Behavioral Analysis Unit." She said, already looking for a way out, Spencer nodded in agreement.

“What a shame,” Her cousin said with faked empathy. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with what happened two years ago, does it?”

She was out of words, of course she would bring it up. Because of that incident she had convinced her mother to not force her to go last year and it was definitely the reason she was not going this year either, but the fact that Anna knew that got to her. She was ready to go home and cry of embarrassment once again. She had done it. Anna had won with one single question.

“Actually, I didn’t want to say anything hon, because it was a surprise,” Spencer spoke for the first time. “Aaron Hotchner, our boss, said that if I could memorize the whole itinerary, which I obviously can thanks to my eidetic memory and IQ of 187, that I could simply share the notes with you and we can take the weekend off since we are his favorites anyway. I was planning on a much more romantic evening than some family retreat but if your cousin is so determined to have us go, we shall be there.” He smiled at the bride, his amusement not so subtle at her reaction.

“You found a keeper,” Anna said, moving some blonde strands of hair from her face. “Anyway, I have to say hello to some guests, but I will see you two lovebirds later.” Her white dress got caught under her heel making her cousin almost fall, but this last one continued as if nothing happened.

"Thank you." She said as she squeezed his hand gently, realizing they were still linked. A whole thirty minutes, that had to be a record for him.

"Don’t thank me, now I understand why you call her bitchy Anna.” They both chuckled at the comment.

“I will call the day of the retreat and say you came down with the flu or something.” She assured him.

“No, I am definitely coming.”

"What? Why would you want to do that?"

"Because," He began, "in the time I've known you I've never seen you let anyone walk over you, or make you feel less. Remember when we met?" She chuckled at the thought. "I didn't appreciate the public embarrassment, but I gained a lot of respect for you. It was hard watching you let her talk to you like that and make you feel less. You are not less." He assured her as he looked at her, sympathy in his eyes. "You are an amazing agent and friend. I bet you're a great daughter and a reliable family member. You are much stronger than you give yourself credit for. If it wasn't for you, we would have never survived that day, I will never forget that. So, I will go with you, and I will be the best boyfriend your family has ever seen, and bitchy Anna can suck it."

She laughed at his comment and he joined. Boy, was she glad Spencer was here with her. Even if they had never been the closest of friends, she valued his opinion, and she was glad it was such a positive one. She wished this was the beginning of an actual friendship between the two.

"Honey!" Her mother's voice interrupted her thoughts, as she approached them

"Oh no." She mumbled, confusing Spencer. "Babe, get ready. You're about to meet my mom." She apologized with her eyes and turned to the bubbly woman that approached them. "Hello, mother." She said as the dark-haired woman with tan skin and stiletto heels that should be illegal reached her, giving her a tight hug. Her red dress matched the infernal shoes and a necklace of pearls adorned her neck.

"Who might this handsome fella be?"

"Mom, this is Spencer Reid, my boyfriend. Spencer, this is my mother." Before he could say anything she was already squishing his cheeks followed by the woman planting a kiss on each side of his face. "You are handsome, I bet my grandchildren will be gorgeous!"

"Mom!" She exclaimed embarrassed.

"What? Don't tell me you're not planning on marrying this hunk? He's a keeper, I can tell."

"You also said that about Tyler." She regretted the comment instantly, the reason being that she didn't need anybody else to know of that embarrassing story.

"Yeah well, aren't you glad you aren't with him anymore?" She said as if public humiliation was something to appreciate. "So how long have you two been seeing each other?"

"Two years."

"A year." She responded as she heard Spencer answer at the same time. "He means that he's liked me for two years, but we only went on our first date a year ago, a year after my breakup with Tyler."

"Yeah, that's right."

"Oh, well. I always thought you would be Mrs. Tyler Hemingway, but Mrs. Spencer Reid sounds so much better!"

"It's doctor." They both corrected.

"Even better!" After that, she walked off without saying another word.

"That's your fake mother-in-law dude... She's something else." She sighed with relief at her mother's easily distracted personality.

"Did she say, Hemingway? As in-"

"Yes, as in my cousin's new husband." She cut him off. "The same one that two years ago told me in front of most of my family that he was in love with my cousin and left me heartbroken and humiliated. That same Tyler Hemingway."

"I'm sorry."

"What doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right?" She heard his voice call her and she immediately tensed, Spencer noticed this and moved towards her.

"I am also sorry for what I am about to do, but it will make sense soon." He said as he let go of her hand and grabbed her cheeks, pulling her for a kiss as her ex-boyfriend now turned cousin-in-law watched, perplexed.

When someone describes a fake kiss, it is usually romantic. First comes the surprise, and then immediate compliance, but she was so confused Spencer had to basically squish her cheeks to make her close her eyes and for her to realize what he was doing. She followed suit and kissed him back, still unable to form a coherent thought. It was not like Spencer Reid was a bad kisser, if she had to rate it, it would have been the best kisser she had ever encountered, but the situation that had created such a kiss did not provide for her enjoyment. Not that she wanted to enjoy it, this was her coworker turned accomplice and hopefully actual friend, not someone she was necessarily attracted to, even though she could admit that he was a handsome man. That was not something weird, even Jennifer Jareau, JJ, their friend, and coworker had said it once or twice. You can admit someone is handsome or beautiful without being attracted, everybody knew that.

The cough coming from Tyler Hemingway made Spencer let go of her, as soon as he did he winked at her and moved a strand of hair behind her ear, subtly stabilizing her and covering her shocked face until it dissipated.

“I thought you weren’t one for PDA,” The groom asked. His black tuxedo and white dress shirt made him look handsome, his black hair was pulled back and his blue eyes observed them intently.

“PDA?”

“Public Demonstration of Affection.” She clarified. “Tyler, have you seen this man next to me? How could I not want to kiss him every minute of the day.”

“And this woman has me craving for her touch.”

“Lovely.” The man responded with anything but love for them. “I just wanted to say hi and apologize, I hope you did not mind the venue Anna chose.”

“Me? Why would I mind?” She laughed. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

She felt Spencer’s arms wrap around her waist from behind, even though she hadn't noticed he moved. His head rested on her shoulder, leaving small kisses on her cheeks. Who was this man and what did he do with Spencer Reid?

“I hope you do not take this the wrong way, but when she and I get married it would have to be a much larger venue, with a different layout. I mean, this venue is cute, but this beautiful woman could outshine it just in pajamas.” He smiled at the man and turned his attention to her. “I keep telling you love: stop thinking small, you are a queen among peasants and deserve nothing but the best. Anyone who can’t see the level of woman you are is simply an idiot.”

This was the moment she was ready to marry Spencer Reid and never let him go, just for the satisfaction of seeing Tyler’s face at his comment. She would forever be grateful to Emily Prentiss for suggesting she ask him.

[yakultberry]

daffodils in winter (1); l.jh

✪ summary: in ancient times, only two lovers were able to sway hades into granting them a second chance at life together. even so, a single look back doomed their love story to inevitably remain a tragedy. but is fate truly set in stone or are we able to mold it with our own hands?  ✪ pairing: orpheus!jihoon x eurydice!reader  ✪ genre(s): angst, fluff, reincarnation au, modern greek mythology au, just,,,, a lot of pining ✪ word count: 3.2k words 

✪ a/n: surprise @custardheart​!! i’m your cwc secret santa! c: <33 i had so much fun trying to not to make it obvious that it was me HAHAH i even told you my dog’s nickname in case you had seen him before. i always love our conversations hahah it feels like we could just talk for hours and hours, especially since we have so much in common hehehe you are literally one of the sweetest people i know on cwc and i’m so glad to call you my friend!!

anyway, this took me so long and it’s not even complete 😔 i really wanted to try making a fic that caters to you and all the things you like reading so i just tried throwing it all in there LOL also peep the banner bc i tried to imitate your blog aesthetic too (which i LOVE by the way). since i didn’t want to leave you empty-handed or for you to think i forgot about you while i complete this fic, i decided to just release it in parts adkjsfals hopefully that’s ok!! 

merry christmas and happy new year, taylor!! I LOVE YOUUU 🥺💖

It was nearly 10pm but the night was as lively as ever with people bustling and weaving along like the small stream that flowed through the middle of the stone-paved walkway. They strolled down the worn path on which thousands of footsteps had passed before them, their breaths lingering in the December air as they laughed together and whispered soft wishes. The harsh bite of winter never deterred couples from coming  out to the walkway; in fact, many lovers used the cold as an excuse to clasp each other’s hands tighter, to press their warm bodies closer together. Even on the harshest nights, the walkway welcomed a handful of couples who would stay until the early hours of the morning. 

This could, in part, be attributed to the walkway itself, or rather what could be found on the walkway. Anyone who stepped along the trodden path would soon find the walkway’s source of life and warmth: a flower stand. Now there were many walkways with flower stands, some even host more than one stand, but none ever seen like this. Even in the middle of winter, the humble stand teemed as though it were early spring with its variety of soft pink tulips, vibrantly purple violas, dainty white snowdrops, and daffodils so yellow they nearly glowed. Each flower was in almost unnaturally pristine condition-- there was never one droopy petal or dried up leaf. Rumor stated that if you bought a bouquet for your significant other, your relationship would surely last a lifetime, outlasting the winters that you might endure. 

Jihoon, of course, knew that this was all a very elaborate marketing scheme to lure out crowds of hopeful couples. While he didn’t have a green thumb himself, he figured that technology must have advanced enough to allow for such beautiful flowers to exist despite the cold, but he wasn’t all too invested in finding out the how’s and what-for’s of the small stand. As long as it brought out the crowds, Jihoon couldn’t care less if the stand scammed naive romantics into throwing away their money for some flimsy symbol of everlasting love. What mattered to him was finding an audience, and he knew, without doubt, that he would find one here. He could already feel the lingering eyes of passersby as he arranged his amp and microphone, filling him with a bubbling anticipation that made his fingers itch for his guitar. 

Despite the tattered appearance of the case, the guitar within seemed to be lined with gold along its edges, gleaming fantastically under the light of a street lamp. Upon closer inspection however, it was apparent that the instrument was well-worn with its own array of scuffs and scratches along the neck and body from its many years of performance. The guitar fit into Jihoon’s hands as if it were molded to be held by him, and he smiled to himself as he strummed each string to check for tuning. Just like that, he felt home. 

“Do you always have to set up so close to me?” At the sound of your voice, Jihoon felt his grin widen, and he immediately looked up to make sure that you saw it in all its smug, cheeky glory. You stood to the side with a pair of stem clippers in hand, which he might have found intimidating had you not been holding a daffodil in the other. The endearing smile that itched at the corners of your lips didn’t do much to scare him either.

“This is where all the foot traffic is, so yes,” he mused teasingly. He then pointed to the flower in your hand. “I see you’re getting ready to shower me in flowers after my performance. People usually throw roses though, you know.”

“Okay, just don’t let it get of hand this time,” you said over your shoulder, already turning back to return to your flower stand. He didn’t dare look away, because on your third step back, you always twirled to face him for a moment to flash your unfaltering smile at him, which he mirrored.“The whole neighborhood must have thought you were having a concert with all the people that came out.” 

“That wasn’t my fault!” he called after you, but you had already returned to your post, greeting several new customers who looked at your bouquets with awe and wonder. 

As you began to gather flowers for a couple’s request, you could hear Jihoon finally open his set with a healing, energetic tune that had the small crowd clapping along to the beat. The first time he had come out to the walkway, it had shocked you how the first note he strummed had immediately taken a hold of you, how it had somehow melted your concentrated frown into a smile with ease. It had been the end of a long day and you were ready to close up shop when a boy had set up for a busking session nearby. Although he only brought one small amp, you felt each note resonate in your chest, and felt the music brush your skin as though it hung in the air like a mist. Suddenly, thoughts of your stressful day had dissipated, dissolved by the boy’s guitar and clear, pure voice. It was unlike anything you felt before.

And yet, it was so easy for you to give in to the enchanting sensation, falling into its embrace like you were reunited friends.  

Now you anticipated the way the melody gently tugged your lips into a smile and how your heart beat seemed to fall into rhythm with each chord. You knew you weren’t the only one so strongly moved by the music though. The customers you were currently tending to, a young couple new to the walkway, had immediately turned their heads towards Jihoon as he continued his set with another lighthearted tune about confessing and butterflies. Their sparkling eyes told you that you weren’t the only one moved by Jihoon’s music, and you couldn’t help but notice how they subconsciously reached for each other’s hands, fingers intertwining fondly. Much to your concern, a wistful sigh escapes your lips at the sight. Your eyebrows furrowed as you felt a dull ache blanket over your chest. 

You tried shaking your head to rid yourself of the feeling, rushing to finish wrapping up the flowers in brown paper and string. “Your bouquet is ready!” you said much louder than intended, snapping the couple from their daze. Both blinked in surprise at their clasped hands as if just realizing how close they’d gotten, and you bit back a giggle when they could no longer meet each other’s eyes. Much like many of your other customers on the nights that Jihoon busked, they immediately joined his audience after paying, unable to get enough of his sweet voice. You stared after them for a bit, feeling somewhat intrusive as they overcame their initial hesitance and held hands once more. And suddenly it was there again: this time it felt more restless like you were waiting, but for what, you didn’t know. 

It wasn’t the first time you felt this way.  In fact, every time it creeped up on you like this, it frightened you how it settled in the pit of your stomach so effortlessly as if it had made a home there, deep inside you. It made you feel like you had been waiting for tens of thousands of lifetimes. Like you had been waiting so long that you forgot what you were waiting for.

At this point, you weren’t sure if you wanted to remember. 

Throughout your life, the weight in your chest had made itself known only a handful of times, usually in quiet moments when the dark felt like it could swallow you up. It was the reason why you took refuge in the bright hustle and bustle of the walkway and why you lingered if only to be surrounded by your flowers. But now, it followed you even in the middle of a crowd, in the midst of the music. 

“Hi! Could I get some roses?” The voice of a new customer finally tugged your attention from the couple, allowing for the pressure in your chest to dissolve for the moment. 

 “Of course you can, sir,” you chirped, relieved for the distraction. “What color?  Would you like a bouquet?”

The customer, who stood alone, seemed to wiggle in thought. “Red, I guess! Don’t worry about wrapping them up! I’ll just take them as is, since I’ll be throwing them to that busker over there.” 

“Oh! Wow, he must have made a real fan out of you, sir.” 

At your statement, he let out a chuckle. “Oh, for sure. I wish he chose a warmer venue though.I guess that can’t be helped,” he said, giving you a meaningful nod, eyes gleaming as they always seemed to. You were taken aback by the sudden realization: You’ve met him before. 

“Right,” you replied absentmindedly, forcing yourself to focus on gathering the last of your customer’s order in an attempt to mask your bewilderment. You were positive that you had never seen this man’s face in your life, yet you were struck with the insistence that not only did you know him, but that he knew you too. He was there, somewhere in your memory. But the closer you tried to get, the further you seemed to step into a murky fog; was it a far away memory or was it just a dream? Chancing a glance at him only served to fluster you even further, especially with the way his smile made you feel as though he could sense your inner bewilderment. You cleared your throat and timidly returned his smile as you handed him his roses. “Anyway uh-- here is your order, sir! He’s about to play the last of his set, so you should probably get over there. Hopefully he likes them!”

“Oh, I’m sure he will love them,” the customer grinned, placing cash in place of the flowers. “Well, I’ll see you around!” 

And with a quick wink, he made his way to join Jihoon’s audience, and once more, you were left to deal with your thoughts on your own. What was it with the customers and launching you into emotional reveries tonight? You decided that that was a good excuse as any to close up shop for the night; you weren’t sure that you’d be able to handle another bout of deja vu or inexplicable longing. Plus you wanted to properly watch Jihoon’s last song, as you always did. You glanced over at him as you cleaned up,  but you were quick to avert your gaze when he suddenly met your eyes and offered you a wide grin. 

As much as you enjoyed his music, you couldn’t ignore how his appearance in your life coincided with these recurring feelings. It was perplexing how it seemed that with one strum of his guitar, he somehow brought you both comfort and simmering unease. But if you were being honest, you couldn’t say you hated it. You knew that if you asked him to set up  a little more upstream, your flower stand would undoubtedly become your haven once more. It was an easy fix. Simple. But even when his weekly busks frequented to every other day, you only found yourself clutching tighter to that moment of elation when he began a performance. 

When you stood there and listened to him play, you had a growing certainty that you would go through any length of suffering if it meant you could keep that moment. 

Jihoon was barely able to sing his last note when the crowd drowned him out with applause and, to his surprise, showered him in several roses from the stand. He caught one in his hand, eyes shining with laughter as he immediately searched for your face. Instead of finding you though, he caught sight of someone that wiped the smile from his lips. Before he could so much as curse under his breath, the man took hold of his microphone and addressed the audience.

“Bravo, bravo! Ladies and gentlemen, please give another round of applause for Woozi, Olympic Entertainment’s feature producer! Woo!” the man boomed a little too close to the mic. “Olympic Entertainment sincerely thanks you for all of your love and support from this past year. We hope that you can continue supporting us and listening to Woozi’s ballads in this upcoming year. Please be on the lookout for his new single that we will be releasing on New Year’s Day!”

As the crowd erupted into murmurs and whispers, the man turned to beam at Jihoon, who replied with a stare as cold as the wind. “Soonyoung, what are you doing here?”

“The boss wants you to stop screwing around and get back to the studio,” Soonyoung said with a shrug. 

“I’m not screwing around! You know damn well why I came out here--”

“Hey, those were his words not mine-- I’m just delivering them.” Jihoon tensed when he felt Soonyoung’s hand on his shoulder, having half a mind to shrug it off. He knew though, that Soonyoung had little choice when it came to the boss’ word, and neither did he. There was no use in taking out his frustrations on his friend, especially when the damage was already done. “You know that I would never have taken it that far if I didn’t have to.” 

Jihoon sighed, nodding. “I know. I’ll just see you tomorrow.”

The crowd gradually dispersed as Jihoon packed away all of his equipment, and suddenly, he felt the full force of winter without the warmth of the crowd shielding him. He hadn’t expected that it would be so cold. After his previous busk sessions, several people in the audience would stay a while longer and approach him, usually to make conversation about his music or to simply thank him for the performance. Now they kept their distance, looking his way discreetly while they whispered about who he really was like he couldn’t hear them. Jihoon scoffed and slammed his guitar case shut, numb fingers fumbling at the clasps.

“Are you okay?” He didn’t have to look up to know that it was you. 

“I’m fine,” he huffed out, jaw clenched. When you didn’t make any move to leave, he gave in and looked at you, a grave mistake on his part. At the sight of your sympathetic smile, he sat back down on the bench; there was no use struggling to put up a front when you seemed to see right through it anyway. You sat on the opposite end of the bench, facing him to show that you were there to listen. After all those times he came here, this was probably the closest you’d ever gotten to him, and yet Jihoon found himself wishing you had sat closer. “Well, I’ve been better.” 

“I’m sorry that I sold that guy those flowers. If I had known that he was going to do that, I--” 

“No, that was all on me,” Jihoon said quickly, unable to let you apologize any further when you were merely doing your job. “You probably think I just came here for some promotional stunt.”

“I mean I didn’t, but now that you mention it…” Without knowing it, Jihoon let out a chuckle at your teasing.  “Even if it was for promotions, I don’t think anyone here would mind. Plenty of people busk to promote themselves. I don’t think that makes their songs any less genuine.” 

He shook his head, the sigh that left his lips hanging in the air for a moment. “I mind. I love my job and everything, but I really needed a break from all that extra stuff. I came here because I knew it would just be about the music. No one had stopped to listen because it was my music or if it was a Woozi production or whatever. They only listened because they liked it. Now I won’t know if that’s actually the case.”

“I don’t see why they can’t enjoy your music while knowing who you are,” you said, eyebrows scrunched together, and Jihoon watched as you rested the side of your head against the back of the bench. Have your eyes always been this captivating? You dropped your voice to a stage whisper. “Is that your secret? Is your music magical only for those who don’t know your true identity?”

“Something like that. Isn’t my music a bit more impressive if I’m just a regular person and not a professional producer?” Jihoon laughed. “I mean, imagine if people knew the secret behind how you grow your flowers in the winter. Don’t you think they’d be less inclined to buy them?” 

You snorted. “I don’t have a secret, though?”

“Oh come on, you literally sell springtime flowers in the winter! You must get them imported or have some kind of fancy greenhouse.” 

“I literally can’t even rent a space to sell my flowers indoors. I can’t afford any of that! They’re just flowers that I’ve grown in my garden. I tell people how I grow my flowers all the time and it doesn’t change anything. It still means something to them,” you said insistently. And then, softer, “Just like how knowing you’re some big shot producer doesn’t change the fact that I’ve never heard music like yours before.” 

Jihoon swallowed, wanting more than ever to close the distance between the two of you. It was a gravity that he felt ever since his first performance, something he had originally attributed to the walkway and how perfect it was for his busks. As he sat here beside you though, the force seemed to tug at his chest almost painfully until it was aching. With his hands clenched, he tore his gaze away from you, unsure of what he was going to say next. His thoughts were fuzzy, like a static television screen going in and out of focus, and the only image he could make out was you. Or at least he hoped that it was you. 

“By the way, ballads? I’ve only ever heard you play happy songs.” 

“This was the only place I could play them,” Jihoon replied quietly. When his eyes met with yours, he was taken aback by how much he meant it; even if he tried to play these songs in the studio, he was certain that it wouldn’t be the same at all. Forcing a smile, he finally met your eyes again. “It was nice while it lasted.” 

“Wait, are you not… are you not going to come back anymore?” 

“I don’t think I should. There wouldn’t be any point, right? Since people know who I am now.” 

“Oh.” I still don’t know who you are. This time, you were the one to turn away from him, a small frown on your lips. A harsh wind came in then, ruthlessly rustling the bare branches of trees and lifting loose petals from the ground around your stand. They swirled in the air wildly for several moments before raining down on where you and Jihoon sat in silence. Seeing how he shivered, you took the scarf off your neck and wrapped it around his own. “Here take this.”

“W-what about you?” When he moved to return the item, you shook your head and smiled.

“I’m used to the cold.”

[bookwyrminspiration]

I have no clues how to submit and anon submission but!! I drew the Echo Cat and sent a picture to your inbox!! If you wanted to put it in a post to talk about it then please do, if its not too much trouble-

I'm probably jsut being dumb with the submissions though, and sorry if I'm coming off as rude or insistan or anything-

Have a nice night!!

-Heathen

okay so this took me...longer than it should have to answer but!! I am here now!!! and maybe one day we'll figure out this anon submission thing and won't have to take circuitous routes to look at such incredible art, but today is not that day!!

also it's no trouble at all to talk about it! I love looking at people's art (once I get through more asks I hope to go through a bunch of people's work and reblog it because so much of my blog is just me talking). And you're not coming off as rude or insistent or anything! Anyone is welcome to direct my attention anywhere they'd like, whether it be different art and fics (including your own), books, movies, shows, etc. they'd like me to check out. I'm here to infodump about kotlc, yes, but also to be friendly with you all, and that's easier when talking goes both ways!! So feel free to direct me to different things!

and now onto the art!!! (I'm posting the digital one instead of the first sketch, but if you'd like that one included just let me know and I'll add it)

[ID in alt text.]

I am. I am in love with this cat-like this oh. oh it's so nice. Everything about this drawing is!! Better than every expectation I could've possibly had when you said you drew Echo. Did I have any expectations? no. But you did such an incredible job!!

Your detailing is so clean, like all those little tufts of fur throughout the body. They look spiky but also soft and comforting and I just wanna pick it up and hold it and pet it. The ears too!! The way you've positioned them is so smooth, which is very satisfying. And you've kept Echo looking black in color while also still adding shadows, so huge kudos to you!! Working with black can be difficult when so much of the depth just...doesn't show up even irl, so it's very impressive how you've used the lighting to create areas where the shadow will show.

The expression!! Echo can't really have the big pupils cuteness in its expression given that its eyes are just plain white, so I love how you've brought in the tongue to still give that adorable factor while staying true to its design! The eyebrows too!! I forget that animals can be drawn with eyebrows, but given Echo's different capacity for facial expressions it makes a lot of sense! Idk what it is about the shape of the eyes but I absolutely love them--they're so fluid and it fits in perfectly with its whole vibe.

And then the glitch effect!! The star of the show!! A lot of the time glitches will be in like reds and greens and really vibrant colors, but the way you've done it with black and white to match Echo's color scheme...incredible, fantastic, show-stopping, pure ecstasy, enthralling, captivating!! And then there's also the hints of color that tie it all together!! I use the word glitch to describe how it moves to much and like..yesss, now I can see it actually glitchy like in the tech way!! Absolutely marvelous.

You have absolutely outdone yourself with this one!! I love everything about it and will treasure this Echo for eternity--seriously it's so cool seeing people draw art of the wings au, given that I'm just here writing what I think is interesting. And here you are, not only reading it but creating for it?? Thank you so much, I can't even put into words how thrilling it is, so I really appreciate you sharing it with me <33

[number5theboy]

Creator Tag Game

I was tagged by the awesome Michelle @lilapittss​, thank you, I really love your creations!!

rules: answer the questions and then tag 10+ other creators to answer the questions!

first creation and most recent creation of 2020: I’m restricting it to creations published on this blog alone, which I started at the end of April. The first gifset was a gifset of Five, specifically non-verbal acting moments that I love, to celebrate my new URL. And the last gifset is me right back where I started from, it’s Five again, a collection of same moments between show and comic Five that I am very proud of.

one of your favorite creations from 2020: It is my most self-indulgent gifset to date, but I love my gifset of Five & Figures from Greek Mythology he reminds me of. The colouring turned out fire, and I like the text I came up with a lot. Five really is a character that feels like a Greek hero, truly one of those fatally flawed, deeply tragic characters that has a similar framing to a Greek tragedy, and I like that a lot, because it comes with an inherent moral ambiguity. It’s pretentious and maybe a bit reaching, but if it fits, it sits.

one new style you tried this year and a gifset that uses it: Blending! I tried it on this gifset for the countdown to season 2, it took me a small eternity and I am not satisfied at all with the result, and I haven’t tried it since, even though I’ve been wanting to.

your favorite coloring: I LOVE the colouring on this gifset of Five and Vanya fighting. It looks so good, I adore it, truly.

a creation that took you forever: It is literally called the Mammoth Project - I made this extensive Five appreciation gifset where I tried to showcase as much of Aidan Gallagher’s character work and range as possible. I’m proud of it, but it did take me over a week to complete.

your creation from 2020 that received the most notes: Five Suffering For Nineteen Days Straight currently stands at 7.7k notes, and it also took me forever, and it makes me happy that it didn’t flop. 

a creation you think deserved more notes: this gifset of Five and the Handler and this general gifset are two of my best colourings ever, and the gifsets flopped HARD. Especially the first one deserves better, I still think it’s gorgeous.

a creation with a favorite scene/quote: THIS GIFSET OF FIVE THROWING DIEGO UNDER THE BUS. It has the tag ‘listen he is a bastard and I love him so much’. I stand by that tag.

a new fandom you joined and a creation you made for it: well, all of this is TUA-themed, but I do adore this gifset of Season 1 lyrics that would have fit a Hargreeves sibling they weren’t used for.

a creation you made that breaks your heart: The one that broke everyone else’s hearts too. Just a gifset of the 567 siblings and how they were made into monsters by people just using them.

a ‘simple’ creation that you really love: I simply adore my Luther&Diego relationship development gifset. It’s a simple theme of blue and orange, but it turned out pretty, and I love my idea of the black and white gifs representing the start- and endpoint of the development. Good himbo bros are a weakness of mine.

a creation that was inspired by another one (add both your creation and the one that inspired it!): to be honest, the only one that was inspired by something else is the show/comic Five comparison, it was inspired by and expands upon this post

a favorite creation created by someone else: where to start....

very recently, this beautiful Vissy gifset by Ren, it’s SO pretty and SO romantic and I love the way they set it up, especially that last gif has been living rent free in my head since I saw it

everything Arianna has ever done ever, she makes the most beautiful, aesthetically pleasing creations, but I’m very biased and I really love the gifsets she made for me, this beautiful Five gifset and especially this horror gifset she made for an AU of mine, I still look at that one about once a week

GOD I LOVE THIS ALLISON & VANYA GIFSET that Michelle made, I am SO emo just thinking about it, it’s gorgeous and emotional and I love it. 

the wonderful Francesca, queen of the colour orange, made this Five gifset that I just adore, the colour scheme and the blur and the little circles with the pops of blue....gorgeous and the quote is perfect

The Hargreeves Siblings Suffering™ that Myra made an updated Season 2 version of. I remember the Season 1 version, and it is still as painful, and Myra’s blending is SO good in all her gifsets, but I love the contrast of colour and black/white here so much

Isha’s gifset of Soft™ Hargreeves Siblings just warms my heart and makes me smile every time I see it. She also made great gifset of the relationships of the siblings throughout the siblings, specifically Diego & Vanya and Five & Vanya. 

In the completely opposite camp, Zahraa made a gifset entitled # team zero braincells, and it is exactly what one would want it to be. I remember seeing it and laughing my ass off. And this Five gifset of hers is one of my favourite Five gifsets ever, period. Because it showcases what I like most about Five, which is Aidan Gallagher’s performance. It highlights so many good acting moments and I love it to bits. 

Artemis made this STUNNING gifset that is just a call to take Reginald down for all he did to the kids, with a BEAUTIFUL layout that I really adore. It looks SO good. And she is an expert at funny gifsets that also look super pretty. This one Vanya ‘miss my with that ‘weapon accuracy’ shit’ delights me to this day, just the idea and execution is on point, hilarious, 111/10.

Maggie just has such a grasp on colourful, vibrant gifs, and I have since made peace with the fact that I will never ever be able to colour Five as prettily as she did in this Bruised And Battered Five gifset. Literally nothing tops that second gif. It is so beautiful. Also, both on a colour and typography and emotional level, this gifset of Five and Vanya just hits perfectly. The quote fits them so well and I’m such a sucker for gifsets that celebrate their sibling relationship, and I love it so much. 

last but not least, Tess has been a genuine joy to talk to and one of the most creative people I’ve ever seen on this site. Shoutout to their little Hargreeves Emoji Quotes creation that is SO cute, and their Five and Allison Quote sets, they look STUNNING and the bold colours and typography.....Tess, your talent!!!

some of your favorite content creators from the year: Legit, folks, I couldn’t pick a single creation by someone else to shout out, so I picked one or more of each of you, because you are all amazing and talented, so I wanted to pay you compliments. You have filled my dash with so much beauty and joy and you are all such inspirations. I wish you all a wonderful new year, @almondchestnut, @seance, @lilapittss, @evakant, @andyoudoctor, @diazalex, @zavens, @fivevanyaklaus, @lukehan, @ogaferoga, you all rock. Also if any of you haven’t done this tag (I have lost track) feel free to do it :)

another couple more creations of yours that you love:

my pair of Five character moments that I drenched in the same colouring: Five + sarcasm + coffee and Five moonlighting as the Commission assassin therapist

my Umbrella Academy Film Genre AUs: Horror Movie and Film Noir

Lost Hargreeves parallel gifset, because the last two gifs still make my heart clench

[eremiie]

hi hi hi!! i'm new to tumblr (originally posting from wattpad) and i wanted to ask on how you made you account so aesthetically pleasing??? ahhhh i've tried everything ):

heyyy hi!!!! it took me like 29329 days to come up with the theme i have now but i would say

1. decide what color scheme you want to doo,, i’ve had brown, sage green, and baby blue! you’ll need a background color and an accent color! if you can’t decide on 2 colors feel free to do white or black and a color, it’s however you want it to be tbh

2. then try to make your header,, you don’t need a header at all actually but yeah, i know a lot of people like to like center and square their headers (aka mine rn and my last theme), a lot of people use nendoroids as their headers too, or centered gifs!

3. if you’re a writing blog then you’ll probably want a navigation center?? figure out what you want in yours, i put an about me, masterlist, tags i use, what i wont write, etc etc and linked things to it

4. to decorate your navigation you can just use divider to divide it up or do what i did which was add like images to give it a pop? it’s kind of like a moodboard is what i did

but yeah get creative!! dm me if you need help!

[camxnoel-updates]

Hardship happens fast, recovery is a slow process.

‘’Look, I’m an extremely private person. I generally shy away from sharing personal information, especially sensitive or vulnerable parts of my life. I feel like many actors are this way, opting to reveal their emotional centers through the lens of character and performance rather than in black and white. But I’ve got nothing but time during the Great Pause of our World, the corona days. I’m well aware my personal story is not a tale of hardship or woe even close to the level of a worldwide pandemic, but perhaps someone may hear my story and appreciate it.

A little over six months ago, I was playing soccer. A break up that led to an emotionally draining on-again-off-again relationship dynamic had finally ended for good a couple days prior. Perhaps this was why I was trying to distract myself so heavily with athletics. I can’t say for certain, but maybe I overworked and weakened my leg with constant running, jumping, twisting. I had played tennis earlier this particular Sunday morning, went for a run, and still felt restless. So I hopped into a pickup soccer match.

It’s incredible how quickly fortune can change; priorities shift in mere seconds. An instant can color the rest of your life. This is exactly what happened when I felt soccer cleats on the side of my shin and heard a loud, distinct crack coming from inside my body. My opponent had leaped onto the center of my lower leg in what I’ll phrase charitably as a rough tackle. I felt his foot pass through my body and knew it was broken before I even hit the deck. I looked down to see my leg at very odd and unnatural angles, being held together by my shin guard like a strip of duct tape strangling a bursting pipe.

One 911 call and several shots of fentanyl and morphine later, I was in the back of an ambulance calling the Shameless production office telling them they’re going to need to re-open the writer’s room and make some changes. I was genuinely more upset at this point about my work being affected than my own body. In my nearly twenty years of acting, I had never missed a day on set, no matter how deathly ill I had been. However, my sock and shoe had been snipped off by the paramedics by this point, and I was able to see that the only thing attaching the lower portion of my limb was some muscle and sinew. My foot and ankle had fully turned around 180 degrees and were now facing south. One of my bones poked and prodded under the surface of my skin, desperately trying to make a jailbreak. So I figured I might not be able to film that scene the next morning.

An x-ray revealed that both my tibia and fibula, two of the largest and slowest healing bones in the body, had snapped cleanly in half. By this point I had called some of the people closest to me. I can’t describe the relief I felt as my friends, my makeshift family, filtered in and out of the hospital room. The warmth and calm that washed over me at the site of their faces accomplished what all the opioids had failed to do. They brought clothes and toiletries, they told jokes, they held my hand.

It took three nurses holding me down and two doctors to twist my leg back around and wrench it into place. A few days later, they cut me open and installed a 16 inch titanium rod through the center of my bone, bolted securely into place. Few more days and I was released from the hospital. I stayed at my manager’s house and later with my angel of a coworker, Shanola Hampton, and her family.

And I gained some perspective. Of what it means to take things for granted. To be able to roll a garbage can to the curb, or pick up a napkin which has fallen to the ground, or hop out of bed without excruciating pain. Life is delicate, health is fragile, and we’re all a bunch of pressurized bags of squishy meat with very limited expiration dates.

To be able to leap and dance and roughhouse is so much of who I am. Up to this point, I had considered it integral to my identity, my fundamental personhood. Physical autonomy is a privilege most able-bodied people don’t even realize they have. And as I had mentioned before, I’m a very private person. Moreover, I view myself as extremely self-sufficient and self-reliant. And there was no worse vulnerability than having to lean on other people for help (sometimes literally.) Yet here I was in this situation, where basic chores and tasks were no longer accomplishable without my friends. My beautiful friends.

And it truly hit me. The importance of community. The value of being there for people when they need you, and of accepting support when you need it. No man is an island. Who we are is not only defined by what we do but also the people who we choose to fill our lives with. There’s nothing like a little suffering to boost your empathy. My injury wasn’t even that serious in the scheme of things, but I gained a greater appreciation for the people who stepped up for me during this time, and recognized some of the people who didn’t. Choose kindness, fill your life with people who value the right things.

I wish I could say that it was a linear line of positivity, progress, and healing from there. I wish I could say that I never relapsed, never felt bitter. Most days were good. But some days I wallowed in self-pity, I drank, I hated the misfortune with a bitter passion. The banality of not being able to do the things you want can ache with a boring dullness that stings far more than the initial hurt of the injury itself. But eventually I learned new ways to entertain myself, placed greater importance on other pursuits and shifted my priorities. I’m thankful for the last half of a year simply for opening my eyes to the obvious things I had been missing.

Now, six months of physical therapy and personal training and healthy living later, and I am almost fully recovered. Yesterday I walked for 5 miles, jogged up hills, even sprinted a few times. It still hurts a bit, but I’m almost fully back. And I have faith I’ll be completely on my feet (bad pun) in the next couple months.

I guess that’s why I wanted to share this story. The world is injured right now. People are hurting and dying in an exceptional and awful way, the economy is in bad shape, many people’s jobs are on the line. So much of the things we so easily took for granted are not currently available to us. I hope the Earth takes this time to shift its priorities, to understand the joys of simple things we cannot currently do like going to a restaurant with friends or hugging your relatives. I hope if people have the means, they can give to those suffering in some way. I hope we as a nation choose kindness, charity, and positivity during this period. I hope we don’t rush this or selfishly leave our homes when we shouldn’t. I hope we protect those most vulnerable.

Healing requires time, it demands patience. This all happened suddenly. But that’s the thing: Hardships happen fast, recovery is a slow process.’’

via Cameron Monaghan’s blog.

[scrawler-jay]

of mice and artblock

So, midterms happened and I abandoned this blog for a while. But now I’m back, and I come bearing mice.

*

I’ve been really struggling with finding subjects I like to draw. I’m happy to work on skeleton studies until Judgment Day to better understand anatomy, but I know I need to balance “homework” art with “for fun” art, or else risk losing motivation for learning to draw -- and I’m so used to writing fiction at this point that no subject really appeals to me artistically unless it’s got 5,000+ words of story attached (or at least some narrative/character ideas, yanno -- something for my brain to pick at). The obvious solution is to draw concept art and characters from my written stories, but I feel really intimidated by that because I’m such a beginner artist that nothing I create now will do justice to the vision I have in my head.

I need art OCs and concepts – things that I will only draw art of, and have never written a story about. Stuff that doesn’t have to match a previously established, written story, and that I can change as I learn more and my skills improve.

I ended up drawing a bunch of mice.

This was initially just a whim. Human anatomy requires a lot of skill to pull off, especially faces and hands, but mice felt more beginner-friendly to me. Admittedly, I was going for a more cartoony style as opposed to photorealism, so if you’re looking at this from a realism perspective then these are pretty poor mice. However, I don’t feel ashamed of them, which I am taking as a good sign.

I kept drawing one mouse over and over. I ended up calling him Leo just because it was funny – “leo” refers to lions, but here Leo is just a little mouse. But of course, giving him a name (and a gender, incidentally) is the start of a story. Via a flight of fancy, I got it into my head that I wanted to do a painting of Leo trying to catch a big snowflake. I made some thumbnails of what I wanted the scene to look like, and then cut out a roughly 7 inch x 7 inch piece of watercolor paper from a big sheet that I had under my bed, sketched the scene in pencil, and then finished with watercolor pencils (and a white gel pen for the snowflakes). The process probably took 2.5 to 3 hours.

So, now the lore is that Leo is a mouse living in a little house in an old tree at the edge of the woods, and he wears a red scarf. I did not like this painting. It seemed over-saturated and the colors didn’t quite work the way I wanted them to. I ended up watching a tutorial on color theory, and decided to redo the painting using my newfound knowledge of color schemes. I used this color palette tool to get an idea of what kinds of colors would look good together, and settled on a complementary scheme with bluish green and brownish red.

And then, everything went wrong.

I tried to redo the painting, still working traditionally. I rushed the sketch because I was so eager to get right into working with color. This time, to avoid over-saturation, I used watercolors out of a pan rather than in pencil form. Mixing the colors in the lid of the pan took a really long time because I was so picky about shades, and because I continued rushing I didn’t allow the layers enough time to dry. Leo’s scarf (now green instead of red) bled into his russet fur, and the mailbox was the wrong shape, and I tried to erase a pencil line and created a dark blotch over an area that was supposed to be white with snow – and then I gave up.

I had downloaded Krita, a piece of digital drawing/painting software, a while ago, but hadn’t had any success using it because my desk isn’t big enough to accommodate both a laptop and my small tablet. Using my lap to hold the tablet was an exercise in frustration, and I knew so little about how digital art works that I just felt really overwhelmed and lost whenever I opened the program.

However, Krita (like most digital art software) has an undo button that I find very alluring, so I decided to try it again, now on a shiny new desk from Ikea that is actually big enough to support tablet and laptop together. I think just the space on the desk really made all the difference, but also I was determined to get this artwork of a mouse to a place where I felt satisfied with it.

I spent a solid 5 hours working on what ended up being a very simple colored drawing of a mouse catching a snowflake outside his little house. I barely blended anything at all, and there’s no light source that required me to shade anything – it’s just flat color. However, I really like these colors, and I think I did well (for an absolute beginner). I want to go back and add textures/shading to give an impression of depth, but I'm not sure how.

Leo – like all of my figures – feels really stiff, so I also want to work on gestures/studies of mice doing things. And, thanks to the popularity of mice as lab animals and pets, there are way more reference photos of mice than I expected! Most refs depict the house mouse, Mus musculus, but I did find the work of a wildlife photographer named Dean Mason who spent 15 years photographing harvest mice (micromys minutus).

Unfortunately, all of the prior artwork in this post I had drawn almost purely from imagination, and I think it shows. I studied two mice from photos in pencil, then erased the lines until they were barely visible and tried to do the fur texture in ink (with a dip pen, so there is some unevenness when the pen was extra inky).

Left is my first attempt doing the fur texture. I was more cautious with layering pen strokes, so you can see the lines of strokes fairly evenly. Right is my 2nd attempt, where I was bolder with the pen. I like these mice more than the one I created in the digital painting; these ones (especially the right) feel more Beatrix Potter-ish, which is a vibe I like.

Do I want to go back and fix the anatomy in my digital art of Leo? Yes. I also want to take another stab at doing this piece traditionally, but this time, I'd go monochrome and try to do everything in brown. However, part of me is exhausted from drawing ten million snowflakes and does not want to relive that experience with a gel pen -- I've already done it once with a tablet pen, and that was enough.

I have a hazy, far-off goal of creating a comic of Leo having adventures with another mousy friend, but that’s so far in the future that it’s not worth spending time considering right now. In the nearer future, however, Leo’s friend might become a reality – I know he’s an albino mouse (name TBD) who either escaped from a drug-testing facility (I loved The Secret of NIMH movie as a kid) or else is a pet who was dumped into the wild by a human owner who no longer wanted him. Leo is outgoing and adventurous, and this friend is shy and cautious.

[ren-c-leyn]

The Cost of Desire

 It’s been a while, but here’s another short story for the blog. Figured it’d be a good way to slowly get back into tumblr.

 This is a fusion story using these 1,2 prompts by @thependragonwritersguild, this prompt by @humdrummoloch, this prompt by @promptsforthestrugglingauthor, and these 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9 prompts by @givethispromptatry.

 Fair warning, while this piece doesn’t have any gore or violence in it, it is a more tense piece with the narrator stuck waiting impending doom.

~

 I remembered that day clearly, the one that began this secret obsession of mine. It was just one of those moments that never left me.

 Mother was an alchemist whom always gathered the ingredients for her potions herself. I don’t remember why exactly but she had decided to take me with her, but I remember being excited to go on a ‘real life adventure.’ I clumsily carried some of the baskets and trotted after her on my short legs. It went well enough, until we got to the forest filled with mist.

 “Shhh…” She held her pointer finger up to her lips. “We need to be quiet here.”

 “Why?” I whispered, still somehow loud enough to cause an echo.

 “There’s something that sleeps here. We don’t want to disturb it. Now stay on the path, don’t stray from it for a second.”

 I listened, but only because mother was there with me. Something about not being allowed to stray from the path and make noise made me want to run off the path and scream ‘hello there’ at the top of my lungs. And that desire never left.

 As I got older, I got more and more curious about the forest and what slept in it. Often, I would stray from the path, a little more each time to see if I could find anything besides the endlessly swirling white. My best friend, however, was a tattle tale and the one day I did stray off the path while they were with me, they ran all the way back to the village got my mother. Whom, was of course, furious. 

 “You’ve been told many times to stay on the path!” mother shrieked, pacing the main room of our tiny house. “One of these days something is going to take you!”

 That threat was enough to curb my wanderings until I became a true adventurer and discovered the secret of that forest. It was a place wizards hid powerful artifacts, artifacts powerful enough to make me the best adventurer of them all. A lure I couldn’t resist.

 Equipped with my weapon and my armor, I felt more than confident enough in my ability to take down the guardian of the artifacts. I strode into the mists, not even trying to muffle the clinking of my gear. All of mother’s warnings and rules were broken. I didn’t even remember most of them in that moment, my mind was focused on the prizes that awaited me.

 Oh how foolish I was.

 In less than an hour, I had found a stone path. It was strange, I hadn’t remembered coming across one so close to the main path, but I was not going to laugh off this bit of fortune. For all paths must lead somewhere, and the only thing to go to in this forest was the place the relics had been locked away. I rushed down it, drinking in the muffled sounds of my own footfalls as I went.

 And it was on that stone path that I met the creature mother had been so terrified of finding me.

 Two opalized eyes blinked at me through the fog. I could see no discernible pupils through the gloom but I knew that those eyes were sorting through my very character, figuring out who I was without a word. Chills ran up my spine, breathing got a little harder, and my heart sped up against my will. My legs, dear gods my legs, they trembled and nearly gave out beneath the weight of that stare. Run, run away, my instincts screamed. But I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t run. Not without something to show for my courage, or stupidity, in coming to meet the guardian.

  The eyes vanished and the mists began to clear. I sucked in a breath of relief just before the hairs on the back of my neck rose. The ghost-like chill of breathe on my neck nearly made me jump right out of my armor as I spun around, hand gripping the hilt of my sword for all it was worth.

 Before me stood what looked like a young girl. It’s difficult to recall exactly what she looked like. Whenever I try to focus on her appearance my mind goes hazy and I nearly forget what I was trying to remember. The one thing I can recall clearly was the sound of her voice. It was as if there was a constant whine of wind trying to drown out a girl’s voice, and it echoed in my mind. Her eyes were like opals and had no pupils, and I can’t recall there being any color to anything else about her. Just... cloudy whiteness, like a phantom.

 No, not like it. Not at all. She was a phantom. The ghost of every misdeed and mistake ever committed. That was her, that was what I faced that day.

 “Who are you?”

 I grinned, clenching my teeth together to keep them from chattering right out of my gums.

 “I am the greatest adventurer to ever stand before you,” I declared with shaky bravado, “and who are you?”

 “Oh, no one important.”

 “Well, that’s solidly not true.”

 She laughed, though it didn’t seem to come from her. It seemed to come from the forest itself.

 “It is in the grand scheme of things. In fact, I am no one,” the smile fell from her face into a dark stare that nearly made my legs give out from under me again. “but that doesn’t matter here because you are someone, someone who does not respect the grand scheme. And someones are not allowed in here. You must leave.”

  “No. I’m the greatest adventurer there ever was, and I’m not leaving without at least one artifact.”

 She shook her head, an amused smile growing on her lips.

 “They all say that, all of the somebodies. But you don’t understand, you never understand. Nothing you learned up there will help you survive down here.”

 I paused at that. Down here? Weren’t we still in that forest? I looked up but al I could see was more mist.

 “Look, I don’t know what mind games you’re playing, guardian, but I’ve come too far to back down now. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be on my way.”

 I turned back around and started to walk forward. The sense of dread and impending doom grew as I took the first step, but I didn’t care. I just wanted to get away from that being. But guardians aren’t known to just stand idly by while someone comes in and raids their treasure troves, and she was certainly no exception.

 “You’re not excused!” the forest howled as the ground quaked.

 I struggled to keep my balance as I looked around for the source of the earthquake. The next thing I knew she was standing in front of me, arms outstretched.

 “Not unless you turn around and leave. That’s the only way to walk away from me, somebody.”

 Irritated, I reached out to push her aside, but she was a little faster than I. A freezing cold hand wrapped around my wrist and sent what felt like ice up my veins. Everything was so cold, and so numb. I felt my strength all leave me as pain took it’s place. Soon, I was on the ground and the little girl was leaning above me.

 “You wanted to be the best. Now look at you. It’s going to kill you,” she whispered into my ear.

 The tingling feeling of paralysis held me in place, though I violently wished I could unsheathe my sword.

 “It’s going to hunt you down and kill you. Your end is coming. Even if you should leave, somebody, you’ve sealed your own fate.”

 Then, she was gone. Just like that. The feeling of dread, of being watched, it was all gone. Except I couldn’t move and I felt the cold spreading throughout my body. I struggled at first, but of course nothing move. Over time, I got some feeling back and was even able to push myself up a tiny bit. But the hours were so slow in passing that I caught myself wondering if time was moving at all. I leaned back against the ground, knocking my head on the cold stone. 

 It was pointless. It was so pointless.... Trying to fight the paralysis, trying to escape, wasting all that time talking to some strange girl, even coming here. I was going to die, and there would be no point to it. The ultimate tragedy.

 I was always terrible at goodbyes. I had a tendency to avoid them, if at all possible, and other times gave a simple wave and ignored the probability I would never see them again.

 As I found myself alone, struggling to make my body to move, I wished I had been able to say goodbye. If only to my best friend, who warned me not to go.

 Then, I fell asleep, letting the cold consume me. But that was not quite the end of my tale.

 The mid afternoon sun filtered it’s way through the sheer curtains to fall upon my face. My eyes slowly blinked themselves to awareness as sleep let go. I wasn’t dead. I wasn’t even in the forest anymore. I seemed to be at my best friend’s cottage, laid out in the guest room. The scent of herbs and incense filled the air as I looked around in a daze.

 A dream? 

 I was not that lucky, though. A chill rose in my blood and pain began to fill my senses. While I could move, it was stiff and agonizing. 

 My friend popped their head into the room.

 “How are you doing?”

 The bitter pain of the curse settling into my bones clenched once more, pulling a gasp from my throat.

 “Oh, you know, like I’m dying.”

 They crossed the room and settled into one of the chairs next to the bed.

 “By rights, you should be dead. You can be a real idiot sometimes, you know that? I can’t believe you went out of your way to provoke the creature of those woods.”

 “I am shocked and appalled that you would believe for even one second that I would do that.”

 “Are you though?”

 “Not really. How’d I get here, anyways?”

 “I went looking for you and found you laying face down in the grass beside the path. But you wouldn’t wake up so I drug you here and got the healers, who got the priests, who got the mage, who is sending a letter to the wizard’s guild.”

 I let out a low whistle.

 “Damn, sounds like you’ve had all kinds of interesting company while I was out cold. Why do you always meet the interesting people while I’m gone?”

 They laughed, but it trailed off into a grim expression.

 “I’m afraid that you’ve had your last adventure, friend. The priests and mages don’t even know where to begin tackling the curse that you ended up getting. What did you find anyways?”

 “Some... weird girl.”

 “Some weird girl doesn’t tell me a lot.”

 “She’s the Keeper of Forbidden Artifacts, and to be fair, she did warn me before she decided to kill me.”

 “Kill you?!” they jumped up out of the chair.

 “The curse.”

 “The hells she will!”

 And before I could stop them, they ran off, like they were going to get mother again. Only, mother wasn’t here to save me this time. No one was. I was doomed to a slow death, feeling my energy be stripped away day by day while others have adventures of a lifetime.

 So I pen down this tale as warning: Do not enter the mist-filled forest, for it is no place for mortals.

 The very slim chance of success, if it should exist at all, is simply not worth the cost of desire: a constant pain and chill that will slowly devour you and steal away your life while you fear the impending end that forever sits at your bedside waiting for you to finish withering away into an empty husk. Abandon ambitions of recovering lost treasures forged by over-ambitious wizards and find a more worthy quest to pursue.

~

Taglist, feel free to ask to be added/removed at any time:

@nemowritesstuff, @likelyfantasywriterspsychic, @dawnoftheagez, @orphicodysseywrites, @hannahs-creations, @writer-candy, @kaylewiswrites, @ravenpuffwriter, @tenacious-scripturient​, @ofinkblotsandscript, @mischiefiswritten ,  @kespada, @asterannie, @silvertalonwriteblr, @inspiring-prompts, @greenwood-writes, @wemitodd, @elkatheinkstained, @n1ghtcrwler, @writingiswilde, @say-no-to-negativity, @wordshavings