#goober grove

[goobergrove]

Goober Grove - Pronouns A helpful Pride Month PSA, courtesy of It's Convenient!™

[avillanappears]

razzlyn goober grove I like her @goobergrove

[if-loki-was-a-fox]

Goober SMP Map!

Labels are probably kinda biased to what I've personally interacted with, but it should be most of the stuff, I think

[musetember]

your generation has, like, zero attention span for epic tales

Questies! Welcome to Musetember, our prompt challenge during September based on the Ancient Greek muses and the ways their stories and themes can inspire fanfiction and art. 

We have nine different themed prompts and a special tenth - The Chorus - that invites you to participate through commenting or lists of recommendations.

Unfamiliar with the muses? We’ll take you on a journey through them all. Every muse inspires, but each has a domain that resonates with her the most. Write a story that embodies the muse who speaks to you most strongly, or write something inspired by each one in turn. You can interpret their domains as broadly or as literally as you like; the main thing is to create in whatever way feels best to you. 

Calliope invites you to tell us an epic tale. Whether it’s the final battle between good and evil on Andowyne or a re-telling of an ancient legend from the old gods and heroes of our world, this is your chance to go ageless and big. What’s an epic tale? Classically these were long works like The Odyssey, passed down in stories upon stories. Don’t have the attention span for a tale quite that epic in length? Maybe your tale is epic in scale or ambition, rather than word count.

Melpomene looks deep into your heart and asks you, what is the worst that could happen? The muse of tragedy, she has seen over and over again the ruinous and inescapable paths people create for themselves and the ones they love. How could Sorsha doom her daughter to a loveless marriage? When hope is lost, what survives?

Thalia is here to make you laugh. With her, it’s time to embrace the most ridiculous premises, the silliest goobers and the bawdiest jokes you can imagine. Really revel in the humorous side of Willow, a comedy of errors, even a vaudeville au - just don’t forget that happy ending. 

Erato - more like E-rated! Erato is the muse of erotica, so it’s time to get your smut on. Write a moment of intense passion, of aching desire, of the deepest, horniest bond imaginable. 

Clio is your invitation to look into the past. As the muse of history, she’ll be with you whether you’re exploring the story of the first six fey to be cast out of the Grove, or if you’re deep in the research for a historical au in our world. 

Polyhymnia welcomes you to explore religion and ritual. Speak to us of the Order of the Wyrm, of beliefs that shape the lives of the Bone Reavers… or of Catholic schoolgirls just trying to catch a moment together. 

Euterpe sings. The stage is set and the orchestra is waiting - it’s time to celebrate music. Embrace the inspiration found in song lyrics, in band dynamics, in a brand new video edit, or ask yourself: does Kit really know how to play those instruments in her room?

Terpsichore extends her hand to draw you into a dance. From sexy grinding in a modern au to an aching slow dance in the rain, dance can be about self-expression or tight, rigid control. 

Urania looks far beyond this world and draws your attention to the stars, to the two moons lighting up the sky. The muse of astronomy is as present in the far reaches of the galaxy in a sci-fi au as she is in the constellation of Jade’s freckles.

Finally, we come to the Chorus. In Ancient Greek works, the Chorus often represents a voice speaking to or with the audience, a bridge between the world of the story and the world outside it. The Chorus is vital. Without their commentary, something important is lost from a story. Those who comment on fanfiction as just as important - you readers are part of this challenge too! Tell the writers what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling. Leave a comment on a favourite story that fits the thematic domain of each muse. Write up a rec list for your favourite muse, and share your favourites so that others can discover them and dive in.

Rules and some specific writing challenges below the read more!

Writing Challenges: 

Still needing more inspiration? There are different ways you can approach this. You can write whatever style your heart wants, or you could try your hand at one of these challenges that interpret the muses’ calls in different ways. 

The Fragment Challenge Write a drabble of 100 words, or write multiple drabbles as if they were glimpses into the same story with missing pieces in between. For artists, share a fragment of a work in progress - anything unfinished!

The Epistolary Challenge Write in the form of letters, a diary, newspaper clippings, social media posts… Or how about Nockmaar’s trip advisor?

The Lost Scene Challenge Write or draw a scene we missed out on in canon, or a scene that gives the impression it is part of a longer, unwritten fic.

All of these give you a fun way to explore the things you choose not to tell the audience, and play off the Ancient Greek theme that our muses inspire. 

Rules/FAQ

How long does the challenge last?

From September 1, 2024 until Oct 6, 2024.

How do I share my cool stuff?

If it's a fanwork appropriate for AO3, we'd love it if you added it to the challenge AO3 collection, which will be open until the challenge ends!

What pairings apply? Is this just Tanthamore?

This challenge is open to all Willow fanworks! You can create things for any prompt with any character or characters from Willow, you can write different pairings, you can do whatever you want forever. Just make sure that your fics are tagged appropriately!

Can my work be any rating?

Yes absolutely! Write the most E-rated thing your little heart desires, just tag it as such so readers can decide for themselves what they'd like to engage with.

Can it be any length?

Sure! There is no minimum or maximum word limit.

Does it have to be based in Willow canon?

Nope - it can be canon, canon-divergent, or any kind of AU you would like to write!

Does it have to be finished?

Nope, not at all. If one of the prompts inspires you to start a long fic, you are still totally welcome to add it to the collection during September and carry on working on it after the challenge is over.

[bucketfullofstrawberries]

The Moon's Teaparty REBLOG CHAIN!!

You're walking down the liminal void of the Paraverse. It's,, pleasant. At best. Not much, but it's certainly there for you to endure and somewhat enjoy.

As you walk, though, you happen to come across something on the ground. Rolling over and tapping against your shoe with a clink, stopping by your feet.

It seems to be a tube of some sorts,,, a scroll, maybe?

It seems like it.

Curiosity gets the better of you. You kneel down and take it into your hands, looking it over -- then opening it up. Before you, you see the following.

" Attention members of the Paraverse! You are all cordially invited to The Moon's Tea Party this upcoming Fall at Hook, Line n' Adventure™️ Grove. There will be food, drinks, and desserts provided free of charge. There is a cottagecore-esq theme to the event if you would wish to match the venue, however there is no strict dress code required. Gifts for the host are optional but appreciated for those who would like to bring one. " " Please reply to this message as soon as possible if you wish to attend this event. All are welcome to join the illustrious Moon on this joyous occasion! "

Three little stars - located near the bottom of the sheet - begin to glow once you've read everything over. A moment or so passes and they beam up what seems to be some sort of holographic-esq image.

You believe it to be the venue.

Now. This certainly seems exciting~

But here comes the question at hand.

Do you accept?

---------------------------------- 𓆩⟡𓆪 --------------------------------------

SO YES!! HI, HELLO THERE!!! GOOD MORNING, EVENING OR NIGHT, WHEREVER OR WHOEVER YOU ARE!!

I've actually been planning this little event for a while~ and it'a FINALLY HERE !! Some people on Discord have been waiting a good while for me to get it DONE too. HehHAH!! So, if you couldn't tell, this is SUPPOSED to be one of those Reblog Chain Events. And I'm hoping, to whoever wishes to participate, you ALL have fun with it!!

There's no real rules, just simply reblog THIS POST with your goober ( OR gooberS, if you have multiple ) dressed up in some sweet cottage-core-esq outfit. Bring whoever you like and whatever you like, it's all about having a wonderful time really~

Anyway, have a MAAAGNIFICENT rest of your evening~ Mx Marlowe will be delighted to see you there~

[littlejuicebox]

I just want to stay in that lavender haze.

Pairing: Astarion x Original Female Character/Ranger AKA AstarionxWren Rating/Warnings: PG maybe 13?/ Act 1 Spoilers / Nudity / Sexual Tension / Gore / Angst / Anxiety / Cursing / Lae'zel being kind of a butthole Chapter number: Nine Word count: 3.9K Masterlist: Click here. Song inspiration: "Lavender Haze" - Taylor Swift Notes: I know only a few people read this series religiously but thank you! Wren and Astarion are my little lovely goobers and I'm glad at least one person loves them as much as I do. And I know my other work gets more attention, but this is my favorite storyline and I plan to continue writing it. That being said, if you do actually enjoy their story… I truly appreciate the comments on this fic and that’s what inspires me to keep writing them even though they don’t get as much traffic.

-----

After terminating the last few goblins, everyone recollected themselves outside of the dilapidated temple. A few healing potions were drunk, a couple of incantations were murmured and then the group turned to Wren with an expectant look, waiting for her next directive.

The half-elf woman never actually wanted to be a leader. But more than once, she’d had the damned role thrust upon her. It was becoming annoyingly, and unfortunately, apparent that this time would be no different. What was it about her that made everyone trust her judgement; why did they let her make the calls? Hadn’t Shadowheart been doing a fine job… couldn’t she just… keep doing it?

The tired little bird sighed, running her bloodied, callused hands through a mess of gut-splattered brunette hair as she looked towards the sky, quickly gauging the time. It was early evening by now. The last few rays of sunlight were glimmering upon the horizon as that soft blend of rose and orange began to melt into a deeper, star-speckled blue. The merry band of misfits had to accomplish two things at once by nightfall… so unfortunately, they would have to split up.

Wren rubbed at the jagged lightning bolt burns sneaking out from underneath her bracers; it hurt like hells. Her eyes glossed over the group as she took a deep, exhausted breath, and then muttered, “Well... I’m sure Halsin needs to get to Emerald Grove as soon as possible. Some of us should go with him and the others should swing by the bog to pack up camp and bring it all back to the Grove. We'll have to head out from there once we've all had some time to recover. Astarion and I will go with Halsin, the rest of you can pack up camp and then meet up with us.”

Lae’zel made it clear she disapproved of this call with a hissed, “Tchk! Why do we have to do all the grunt work, while you and your favorite vampire princess get the easier route.”

Astarion almost leapt forward to snap at insufferable woman, quite displeased with being called a princess. Before he could, Wren’s mouth hardened into a thin line at the challenge, and she quickly stepped closer to the Githyanki, tone dropped into an irritated hiss.

“You’ve been given more people than we have, Lae’zel. The Grove needed Halsin back yesterday, and Astarion is skilled at both downing and evading enemies… whatever we may happen to need along the way. The Archdruid can surely handle himself. As for the rest of you… Well, sorry to be the one to say it and to burst your little bubbles, but none of you aren’t quite as versatile as the two of us, and you all need one another to cover your weak spots. It isn't favoritism, it's pragmatism.

And as for me? I had my brain invaded and nearly fell to my death today… so no, I’m not interested in packing up camp and playing inventory manager right now. If that’s such a problem for you, Lae'zel, and you’re questioning my judgement, then leave my shit there for all I care. I have all I need in my pack... Or should I remind you, I'm not the one that insists on hauling a stone wheel all around Faerun when a simple whetstone would suffice?"

Wren and Lae'zel were roughly the same height; she stood nose to nose with the fighter, her two-toned eyes boring into angry reptilian ones. Gods, Wren was growing so tired of this. If no one else wanted to be the one to make the calls, then why was there always someone questioning her judgement?

“Oi, no worries, mate! I’ll take care of yours and Fangs’ stuff.” Karlach cut in, stepping between the two women, quick to try and ease the group tension. “Go on and we’ll meet you — the Grove has to be in an absolute state by now, what with Kagha and all her antics.”

Lae'zel spat at the ground and then spun away from Wren, and the two groups went their separate ways in silence.

-----

The short journey to Emerald Grove was a mostly quiet one. Astarion felt too mentally worn from all the revelations of the day to play the loquacious, flirtatious rake. Wren, on the other hand, felt absolutely shredded around the edges of both her psyche and her body.

The Druid and the ranger had a brief conversation about her father, but it soon became clear it wasn’t a subject Wren wanted to discuss for too long. She would trail off or become distracted during the conversation, her mind entirely elsewhere. Halsin graciously took the hint and let silence fall among the trio, chalking everything up to the exhaustion of such a tedious and gore filled day.

At the gates of Emerald Grove, many of the tieflings and a few of the druids welcomed the Archdruid with a chorus of ecstatic cheers. All three beings were ushered in with a smattering of hugs, thanks, and congratulations, which Wren numbly accepted and Astarion willingly played into. Halsin soon interrupted the small welcoming party and rushed to interrupt the ritual of thorns, unleashing a scary and very bear-like chastisement to all the participants. His thundering voice drew the attention of everyone in the grove, and Wren took the opportunity to quickly peel away from the scene.

Astarion’s eyes followed Wren as she headed towards where they’d rescued that Tiefling kid from the Harpies weeks ago. This was his chance; the other campmates weren’t around to stick their noses into his business. The vampire thought for a moment that he might try and use his body to lure information from her like a Harpy used their voice to lure tiefling children… and he quickly made his peace with that possibility. Whatever the method, the rogue had to act now, without the risk of outside interruptions. He had to pry some information out of Wren tonight.

The pale elf quickly trailed down the remaining stone steps while the other druids had their heads bowed, listening to Halsin's booming lecture. Silent steps led him around the curved pathway, down to the water bank. He thought he’d see Wren rinsing her hands and face, ridding them of filth or taking a small moment of silence to stargaze or smoke from that pilfered pipe. He truly didn’t expect to see a panicked little bird, tearing wildly her own armor, trying to rip it off. He stared dumbly at the wide-eyed and panting ranger, watching as she appeared to be in the middle of a battle with… well, herself.

Wren’s eyes snapped to Astarion, where he was frozen mid step, scarlet eyes assessing her hysterical movements. Suddenly, she called out in something between a strangled scream and a sob, shaking hands now pulling desperately at her chest plate, “Take it off! Take it off! Please!”

She fell to her knees, half in the sand, half in the water. Her hands ripped at the leather straps of her armor as she heaved. She sounded as if the weight of her armor were crushing her; she sounded as if she couldn't breathe.

Of course, she could breathe… she was speaking, after all. Astarion didn’t know what else to do but answer her pleading voice. So he moved forward, deft hands quickly unsnapping buckles and ripping leather pauldrons from the ranger’s shoulders. She gasped in relief, and without a word, nimble fingers moved down to snap off her chest plate and then quickly loosened the laces of her bracers.

His brow furrowed as he watched Wren’s face, still caked in goblin guts, with thin rivulets of tears streaming from her two-toned eyes. She clumsily slid her bracers off and threw them down into the sand. Wren was still heaving as she sank down into the earth and then suddenly, she was sobbing, her entire body shaking with the force of her cries.

Gods. This absolutely hadn’t been the plan; Astarion was, once again, totally out of his depth here. How did he keep getting caught in these ridiculous situations with her? None of this ever ran on any script he'd ever prepared for himself.

The rogue ran a stressed hand through his hair before he took a deep breath and kneeled beside her, placing his cold hands on either of her shoulders. “Darling, listen to me! Shut up, right now. Stop this instant or else the entire grove is going to be here staring at you in a few minutes and unless I’m horribly mistaken, you don’t want that. Wren, come on, that's enough!”

The ranger wasn’t listening; to be fair, Astarion couldn’t be sure she heard him in her current state. She was still crying -- well, wailing, really -- and the look in her eyes seemed a million miles away. He recognized that look, that feeling. It made his gut churn. The vampire began to panic; she needed to quiet down before this all became an even bigger spectacle, or worse, someone accused him of causing her pain.

“Darling! Wren! For gods sakes—“ The rogue snapped his eyes shut and plunged forward in a last-ditch effort. He smashed his always-cold lips into her always-warm ones, swallowing her insufferable cries, digging so tightly into her shoulders as if he were hoping to pull her out of her own mind with brute force.

They stayed frozen like this for several beats; time almost felt like it ground to a halt. Astarion could hear the half-elf woman’s heart thudding erratically in her chest and then, miraculously, slow itself to a steadier thrum. The vampire opened his eyes and pulled away to see the little bird staring dumbly at him, her perpetually berry-stained lips swollen from the crushing force of his mouth on hers. Wren blinked rapidly, but remained silent, before carefully lifting her hand out of the water and brushing it against her own lips.

“Apologies, darling, but I didn’t know what else to do. Now let’s get cleaned up and then we can chat about whatever is going on in that pretty but absolutely twisted head of yours.” Astarion murmured, quite ruffled, but still lifting himself to his feet and then holding out a hand to help the little bird up, as well.

The half-elf woman had apparently fallen selectively mute, but she nodded her head and followed the vampire as he dragged her back toward the grove circle.

He was still mad at her. Furious, really. He didn’t have all the words to explain why, but he felt she’d somehow been misleading or hiding things from him all along. But then again, hadn’t he been doing the same in so many ways? If he weren't outright lying, which he definitely had more than once, then wasn't he also concealing aspects of himself… just like she had? But somehow, despite the clear hypocrisy Astarion was aware of and chose to ignore, it still felt like a betrayal to him. And yet, even though she absolutely infuriated him… the way she looked in her panic plucked at his heartstrings and compelled him, beyond his better judgement, to comfort her.

Gods this was supposed to be easy. A nice, simple plan. But it grew increasingly complicated by the minute.

-----

Halsin kindly allowed Astarion and Wren access to his bedchamber. The bear of a man often preferred to bathe in the natural water source on the edge of the Grove, but he conveniently kept a tub for soaking within his personal chambers, more for his own rare moments of enjoyment.

“Thank the gods that the druid isn’t totally removed from society.” Astarion mumbled, after Halsin helped to fill the massive wooden tub with heated water and then politely saw himself out. He was about to have a lengthy conversation with Kagha… surely, they would hear the results later.

Wren hadn't uttered a single word, but she watched as the vampire moved around her, plucking jars from the shelf by the tub and sniffing them. Finally, he settled on one, and poured some of the milky contents into the tub, causing the water inside to turn a clouded haze of pale purple. Then, he spun to the little bird and clapped his hands in his signature, impatient chop-chop. “Well, come on then, darling. In you go."

Wren sat blinking at him, unmoving. Astarion scoffed and rolled his eyes, briskly moving toward the archer. “Little bird, surely you aren’t going to turn down the first real bath you’ve had in weeks and the only one you’ll get for who knows how long. Now enough of this. Arms up.”

The half-elf sighed and followed Astarion's order with heavy limbs. The vampire stripped her of everything besides her underwear and then tugged her with a bit of force, over to the tub. The rogue couldn’t help but admire the sinewy ripples of her back, and the freckles along her collarbone as he watched Wren remove her smallclothes and sink into the opaque tub of water.

The little bird closed her eyes and sighed as the comforting smell of lavender began to swirl around her. Wren allowed herself the smallest moment of bliss as she inhaled the relaxing tendrils of scented steam, but then she felt Astarion’s leg slipping into the bath with her and snapped her eyes open to stare at the silver-haired elf.

The man cocked an eyebrow as he assessed Wren’s wide, shocked eyes from where he faced her, now sunk chest deep in water, sitting on the opposite side of the tub. He huffed and leaned back in the bath as his long arms crossed resolutely.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re suddenly a prude now, little bird. This bath is more than big enough for the two of us, thanks to the behemoth it belongs to, and we’ve already seen one another completely nude and in the throes of ecstasy. So, if you think I’m going to pass up the only luxurious bath I might get in weeks, just because you’re naked and in a sour mood, you’re dead wrong.”

Wren chuckled; Astarion smirked in response at the first sign of her potentially improving mood. And then the ranger gave a good-natured eye roll before she shifted over just enough to make a bit of room for the rogue’s legs. But still, she didn’t speak.

The vampire occupied himself with dunking a sponge in water and wiping the grime off his own body. After that, he grabbed a small wooden cup off the bath tray and rinsed his hair; pale hands moved to scrub more of that milky liquid through his blood-flecked silver strands. Astarion closed his eyes and carefully rinsed again, inhaling the floral aroma and ensuring he felt no more suds remaining in his precious curled locks.

When the rogue’s lids fluttered open, the little bird had already moved to scrubbing her own body with a sponge. With his eyes closed, Astarion didn't see that she'd been staring at him, admiring his little smile and the way his hair looked weighed down by the water.

Wren flicked her gaze toward the vampire and sighed; her mouth opened as if she were about to speak, but then she sighed and shut it again. A few more minutes of silence passed, in which both beings simply welcomed the heat as it eased the soreness of overtired muscles.

Eventually, the ranger broke the silence, her voice still raw and scratchy from the earlier episode at the shoreline. The pale elf's eyes were closed as he lounged in the tub, but quickly snapped open when his pointed ears picked up her quiet, shaking voice.

“There are many pathways to and from the Underdark throughout Faerun. Kol was out with his friends, exploring one of those pathways. Unfortunately, they’d picked one that led to a cavern full of Phase Spiders… not unlike the one we encountered down that well.

We were out hunting when we heard their screams and went to investigate. By the time we downed the spiders, Kol was the only one alive… but barely.”

Astarion passed the cup to Wren as she spoke, and a few more seconds of silence passed as she rinsed and scrubbed her own hair with the lavender-scented solution. The elf watched from hooded, relaxed eyes as the water ran down the woman’s neck, languidly flowing down to that little spot at the crook where two faint pinpricks blended into a smattering of freckles, before finally trickling to where her breasts hid under the clouded tub of water.

“My father and the other elders wanted to leave Kol there to die… simply let nature take its course. But a few of the younger generation, including myself, begged them for mercy and they relented. Kol spent a week with us before he was well enough to go on his way and return to the Underdark. But he didn’t want to go. Life isn’t exactly great for male Drows in Menzoberranzan, especially not a second son, despite the Baenre name. So, he left a coded note in the cavern in case any of his other friends hoping to escape came looking for him... and then he was one of us.

Father considered Kol dead weight… he was softer, an artist… he would often draw me pictures of squirrels or other creatures. He was about average with a blade and terrible with a bow… but he was talented in other ways and surprisingly kind. I’d never met a man with a gentle, soft-hearted nature quite like him. And he pulled a softness out of myself that I’d shoved down and all but forgotten when my aunt brought me to my dad.

My father never wanted to be a parent, he remained unwed and unattached for that very reason, but I was an unexpected consequence of his actions and well… suffice to say I didn’t always have the most tender upbringing. Neither did Kol, but he honored his own nature despite that.

Anyway, my dad wanted me to marry Zahara, my first love… or one of the other warriors. His priority was to guarantee my safety and status within the clan. Either Zahara or I were going to be the next elder when one of the clan members passed… so it was the most pragmatic decision. But I was uninterested; so was she… we’d had our fun, but the romantic love just never stuck between us.

Against my father’s wishes, I snuck away with Kol... more than once. We sometimes journeyed down into the Underdark, and he showed me around very briefly. I suppose you've never been, but it’s beautiful down there, truly. We would never venture close to the city; he didn’t want to risk being caught… turning from Lolth is unthinkable and unacceptable in their culture. But I know he missed the beauty of the Underdark… he drew it all the time.

Father eventually relented and gave his blessing for Kol and me to be married. He knew I would leave and marry Kol on my own, settle down in some small hamlet or within a city, if it ever came down to it. So, we were married one beautiful autumn day, and we spent five years as husband and wife until his own kin found him.

They tracked us for days, waiting for the right opportunity. Kol was ambushed; they found him alone by the river near where we’d made camp. He was drawing, practically defenseless apart from a small dagger. I had been hunting not far away with the youngling group I’d been placed in charge of. I ran to the screams, but he was already gone when I got to him... Minthara was among them, she escaped… but one of her siblings and a two of her cousins were less lucky, in the end.”

Wren blinked away tears that were just beginning to form in her eyes as her voice cracked. She inhaled a shuttering breath through wobbling lips. Astarion watched the little lip scar that he was absolutely obsessed with as it trembled and fought back the urge to move forward and envelop it in a kiss.

The little bird dunked her lithe hands under the water and brought them back up to her face, wiping at the final specks of blood still stuck to her forehead and cheeks. She missed the spot near her eye, and Astarion leaned himself forward, lifting his hand to gently rub at the stubborn stain with his thumb. His eyebrows furrowed as he struggled to process all the information. And then, he stuck his foot in his mouth.

“So… when you said you downed two of house Baenre… it turns out you didn’t actually mean your own husband.” He murmured, his hand lingering a beat too long on her cheek.

“No! What?!” Wren snapped, her own eyebrows crinkling together as she pushed Astarion's hand away from her face.

Astarion rolled his eyes and huffed, leaning back again on his side of the tub. Part of him wanted to back off, but the more insolent and hurt part decided to double down. “Look, you've been quite mysterious about all this, and one can’t help but assume things, trying to make sense of it all. You’re hard to read!”

“Have you ever considered I’m not here like a book to be read?” The little bird snapped, suddenly lifting herself out of the bath. Streams of water trickled from her dark hair down her naked, freckled body. Astarion averted his gaze, suddenly quite aware he'd made another misstep and unwilling to piss Wren off further with his wandering eyes.

She climbed from the tub and snatched a towel from the shelf, wrapping it around herself before crouching and rustling through her bag. Then Wren quickly pulled her chemise from the sack and threw it over her head. When she turned and looked at Astarion, the expression on her face was a heartbreaking mixture of disappointment and sadness. She heaved a heavy, burdened sigh as she slipped her camp shoes on and shoved everything into her bag before grabbing it by one tattered strap.

“Astarion…” His name on her lips simultaneously sounded like a song and a slap, “If you’d ever bothered to actually ask me about myself… I would’ve told you the truth. I would’ve told you anything you wanted to know… if you’d just asked. I felt it, that night you pried into my mind, after the first time we kissed, you know. Why do you think you saw primarily nature scenes? That Wood Elf you kept seeing? It was a nightmare… not a memory.”

And then she walked out of the room, leaving Astarion alone and staring up at the ceiling. The vampire ran his hand through his hair and then groaned, dunking himself under the water’s lavender-scented, hazy surface. He closed his eyes, effectively cutting his senses off to the outside world. For a while, Astarion considered staying like this forever… he didn’t need to breathe, after all. Perhaps he could just hide in the tub, senses numb, all alone. Nobody would miss him or come looking for him here… that much was certain.

But soon the bath water started to grow cold, his fingers began to prune, and the rogue’s discomfort forced him to break through to the surface — and to reality — once again. He stood and shook his head, spraying scented droplets around the room before gathering his own towel and wrapping it around his waist. Astarion sighed and sat down on a bench, pinching his nose bridge as he wondered what in the hells he should do now. His body was clean, but his mind still felt riddled with debris.

Perhaps it hadn’t been Wren weaving a messy web around him… perhaps he’d been the one doing it to himself all along.

[melodiousmonsters]

Claiming myself to be the SECOND person to make fanart of epic sneyser because one goober on the ockulo grove server threw together some scribbles faster than i could

[starlightsuncrow]

Heyyy :3 can I hear about how Crow and Momo met each other for the first time in each version? I know you mentioned in Starfall at least that there should've been a rivalry between them, but how exactly does that go? And at what point in GW2 do they meet? (Am also curious to hear more about the Starfall Guild if you'd like to talk on that as well!) - @magitechbatt

Oh this will be so fun to explain!!! I'll start with the meetings and if i got space, the guild ! If not, i'll make a post <3 In Gw2 Crow stayed under Dragora's wing for a long time, but in s2, right after the meeting in the grove and its disastrous ending, Dragora urged Crow to join the commander and the others, since he couldn't. Thing is... Crow is very quiet in general. So you got this weird sylvari who barely talks and has a piercing gaze following you around because a firstborn told you they would be helpful. Okkk. Caoimhe wasn't impressed, but hey, any help is appreciated. At least he was extremely cuuuurious in understanding them though!

Crow who doesn't care about titles and actually despises them , which didn't help in this case, it's less about Momo as a person and more because...of the role? and Caoimhe who doesn't quite know...how to approach warmly this guy. Very formal for a long time! Until HoT starts and that's where formality was thrown into the wind. Working together closely and for survival truly does wonders to relationships. It's not as serious as I make it out though. They trip on each other because social stuff is neither strong suit.

As for Starfall! The meeting is funnier. Crow was scraping for money ( he's wanted by the Guild and so hunted constantly. I mean it) and went for bounties in small areas where the help is highly needed but less "seen". Momo was staying in the same area, driven by his purpose, meaning slaying anything that was a danger to a magic imbalance. So uh... Crow was looking at the bounties on a wall and uh.. Momo kiiinda was asking him to move, putting a hand on their shoulder but uh. Crow reacted and punched immediately. Startled them. Not a great impression. Crow decided to work together with him because it's safer and as a ...favor? apology? for that. It was supposed to be just for one big bounty. They kept going. First it was for safety, then to test each other, became a sort of amicable rivalry in who was gonna deliver the final blows and such, friendly competition. As for last...well, the company was nice wasn't it? Crow doesn't know yet he's a fae and Momo frankly didn't care in telling anything, because he thought it was gonna be a fleeting moment with a person. Too bad Momo <3. The rivalry was in part due to the dryad/fae thing, it isn't easy to surpass this eternal hate the two have, but ...neither Crow or Momo are quite normal for their own race standards. The other part is because they are goobers. Both isolated and tripping over social cues and stuff, they bonded over spars and fights and moments of reprise until it got harder to imagine going back to be alone ( It happens in Starfall for a while sadly <3)

They're enemies by race, rivals and friends by progression and then something more i dont have the right label for it and neither do they ahah. There's always that sort of friction with them but they make it work! As for the Guild... that's all me ! It's a place, a bit isolated from the big city, where the mages get "reformed" into mage hunters. Starfall is a world where magic in the big towns and stuff is considered scary and kind of forbidden. So if people got caught or seeing a child with magic? Guild time. In Northward ( city) a mage child has to go to the Guild. Mandatory. In the public's eye it's just normal! Nothing bad happens to them after all. ( wrong). There's a lot of propaganda and brainwash. The Guild is formed by recruits, hunters, teachers, professionists, a leader and its right hand. Plus other mansions that don't need soldiers like librarians and such. Recruits go through a period of training and learning, slowly forgetting the outside and learning rules and what's needed to survive. Passing the test, which gives you a lovely magic brand ( tracker), you are now bound to the Guild, going out needs permission and the brand acts as a leash. Fun, i know. Hunters then go through actual training, where they can slowly decide what profession they wanna be: Spellbreaker, Assassin and Reflector. Each of them is to stop a mage to cast and be captured/killed ( the black gradients on the body is a tattoo that indicates how many tasks you completed. It's painful. It's a stain) In picking one or more, you get your own mentor. Not many can pick 2 or even 3, it's a lot of work and dedication ( or high ranks want you to shine). The more you prove you're a good asset , the more you're sponsored? That's how Crow ends up with two professions and a lot of people who wanted to see him rising up in the high ranks. This is where they form teams too, after seeing how the hunters work together in the trials and missions. It's where teams solidify , due to mentors being friends too or smth. (In my case... Crow and Swan were a team, no i've never shown Swan here aaaa) High ranks are mentors usually, people who can go in the fields but usually are the trainers and the ones with power to discuss and decide with the Leader. One of them is also the right hand. Hunters usually ...die in the fields. Not many had the chance to retire and work in the Guild, even less Hunters who were able to retire out of it ( these...usually are killed from the Guild itself to protect secrets ) It's a bleak prospect for a future but the brainwash is so powerful they don't quite realize or fight against it, and when it's too late...well... you know. Mentors don't treat you bad per se, but... it's all to create soldiers and weapons after all, there's affection or care but rarely it goes beyond that. You're numbers to them unless you're ,again, sponsored and quite loved in the Guild due to status etc... Let's not add the fact Crow got the worst mentor ever , that added even more fucked up things to the training and we're good /jk. There's some snippets still but they're related to Crow mostly. Like...you have no contact with the outside even if your family is alive. Yeah, it's a secret, yeah Crow found it, no the reaction to know it wasn't pretty and it was one of the small sparks that made him fight back. In Fallen Au... Crow becomes the leader of it and it's 10x more fucked up. I think this is the gist of it! Sorry about the length! And thank you so much for asking!! The Guild is my personal playground >:)

[gayest-squrrel]

I am once again going insane about snaktooth island

this time it's about the sauces baybeeeeee !! I was mulling over how horrid Wambus' special sauce is and why mother naturae should smite him because of it lmao 🙂 I was wondering "hey how did he do that actually" and thus began my research

This is probably gonna be a long post... read more at your own volition

As I wait five minutes for bugsnax to boot up I contemplate my life choices to spend two hours taking screenshots of sauce plants for the next hour and a half while sweating my ass off bc my laptop is burning my legs, and then Garden Grove finally loads and I go yayyy silly bug game 😋😋

The majority of the ketchup plants in Garden Grove are in Wambus' garden. I don't know if the fully grown one was already there before he planted it, but considering how the ground below it isn't tilled I think we can assume it had already grown there.

Most of the natural plants are in the lower level of the grove, because there's more room for them there lol. It could also be because of the river that runs through the ground

You got your ranch plants of course 😌 I don't really have anything to say about them right now

THESE THINGS HOWEVER ! These are the only occurrence of undergrown sauce plants besides the ones Wambus plants, which is cool :)

Onto Simmering Springs 🦅🦅 the chocolate plant really likes warmth and water, but not too warm since it only grows underground in sizzling sands where it's otherwise too hot and dry

chocolate grows all along the beach >.> It sure loves salt water I guess :)

And some hot sauce grows INSIDE A VOLCANOOOOO that's insane that's crazy what are you doing there

Most of the hot sauce in scorched gorge grows on the big rock in the center, but there's one cheeky little goober growing in the canyon.

And there's some more hot sauce plants by the oasis

And we got out previously mentioned chocolate 😌

the cheese plants, being the wild pieces of shit they are, grows on a fucking ROCKKK ITS JUST A ROCK these things will grow anywhere I swear

Just kidding I lied they won't grow anywhere, the sauce plants HATE the mountain. There is a grand total of ONE peanut butter plant in Sugarpine

And the other two peanut butter plants in frosted peak are both next to campfires, so we can safely say sauce plants DESPISE the cold. Peanut butter is just not like the other sauces and decided to grow there anyways

Brokentooth has every sauce except ranch

Now what can we learn from this ?

that tumblr only allows 30 images per post and i need to make a second one haha !!! I have more images :,) and more things to talk about

edit: next post

[obscurecharactershowdown]

Group E Round 1

[image ID: the first image is a pencil drawing of Monmouth, made by the submitter. Monmouth is a man with short hair, wearing a cloak with a clasp against his neck. behind him is a tree branch with leaves. the second image is of Goo, a blue blob with a 2 little black eyes and a half smile. end ID]

Monmouth

a young wizard in the service of the villain, the witch Nimiane of Endor, who defects to the side of the heroes in the second book. Monmouth is a pauper son and green man (seventh child born with nature-based magic) and had to hide his talents among the wizards who raised him. biggest claim to fame is transforming an entire slave ship into a floating aspen grove in order to free the captives. also, he has a knife

Goo

okay so goo . goo is like the silliest little goofball ive seen on a web series . he dances with PINECONES and makes and says weird wacky analogies and keeps all of them in little notebook for later use and also made a 3-5 hour film for his best friend bot after they said they wanted a new identity BUT he single-handedly spent like 30mil dollars or something for that but it’s okay hes trying his best !!!!! also he did NOT deserve to be voted out for that i really hope goo and bot reunite btw because they didnt get to talk much right before goo’s elimination and not ONLY that but literally goo got eliminated BEFORE he got to see bot’s transition he doesn’t even know that their name is bot he still thinks its tbd (…like literally. he still thinks their name is literally “tbd” because they said their name was tbd. yeah he’s kinda dumb like that but it’s okay i love him for it/p) as far as i know anyways their silly little meaningful conversation before his elimination that made me cry "yeah,, i liked it !! but.. it was,,. a lot :[ listen goo,, i-i dont need this new identity to be such a big grand spectacle , i just want you to treat me like. llike me . with all the uncertainty lately, it helps everything feel just a bit more,, normal , yknow .?" “oh,, ohfor sure ,! i get it !! it’s like,, you just wanted a slice of cake, and i went and gave you the whole bakery ,:D !!” “hehe, yyup, nailed it !! ,:)” UWAHHHHHHH😭/LH/POS and also he’s apart of an alliance with his bestie called the cheer factory !!!! and they focus on cheering people up and theysure as hell do well at it !!!!! they cheered up clover and the floor ithink yes the floor is a character ssshshshshhsshh / and goo literally lost one of the challengesbecause he laughed at the floor’s joke in order to cheer him up AND HE DID NOT CARE he was just glad he got to cheer somebody up !!!!! “another satisfied customer at the,, CHEER FACTORY !!! :D” LITERALLY HE WAS SO HAPPY and also when goo and bot were separated into two seperate teams goo is IMMEDIATELY sad when he notices bot isnt with him “sigh… i guess the cheer factory has become the.., cheer llc. :[“ I FELT SO BAD FOR THE BOTH OF THEM / but ahemem anyways goo is a silly little goober and that’s why he should be in this competition !!!🎉🎉 also a few extra bonus facts about him (sorry not sorry/lh/silly) 1 . he doesnt have limbs but like he also doesnt write with his mouth . his voice actor said he dances on top of the paper until it leaves a smudge 2 . did i mention he dances with pinecones/silly 3 . he likes fudge sundaes 🎉🎉 4 . his voice actor has made him diss subway before due to a request on one of his livestreams ( “lalalalala- SUBWAY⁉️eat fresh my butt‼️>:[[” ) 5 . hes blue

[mageofgoobygrove]

hi, goobers

i haven’t had this blog long, but i appreciate everything it has given me. this is definitely the outlet i needed to pick up writing again. i love interacting with all of you, and i love fulfilling ideas you send to me.

recently, i got a job to work weekends. i worked my first weekend + friday (32 hours) and it was pretty good. this was my very first job and i was hopeful this would be a new start. my mom helped me get this job and for that i’m grateful. but now i don’t have that job anymore. i got a text today that i’m just too young for the position and they’d rather have someone older to handle it. so that’s very devastating. i don’t even think i’m going to get paid, either, so…that’s wonderful.

i know i probably shouldn’t be putting this for strangers to read. but it’s too embarrassing to go and tell my parents right now, or my friends. i thought things were going to change, and now it’s gone.

i made a ko-fi just if anyone wanted to give a dollar. that’s the minimum. maybe i can make back what i lost, i don’t know. i’m scared and upset and i have no clue what’s going to happen once i tell my parents.

i’m going to stick around. if anything, this blog has made me happy. although my interactions with anons have been short, i really love my anons. i’m grateful for those who’ve followed me and liked my posts. i’m going to keep writing, no one will take that from me.

here’s my ko-fi. again, i don’t want anyone to feel pressured. it’ll just be under this post if anyone is interested. thanks, citizens of going grove.

[goobergrove]

Goober Grove - Make a Terrible Comic Day Razzlyn takes a stab at cartooning.

[cicadaknight]

tag game (horizon)

tagged by @artekai 💕🤝💖 thanks, pal!

1. ride or die ship: fashav/kotallo straight to my grave. mythological tragedies, those two, i tell you what.

2. most annoying ship: the boat aloy takes to san francisco. can you imagine, never rowing before in your life and making that trek through choppy currents and storms? insufferable.

3. second favorite ship: aloy/kotallo. the parallels of aloy and kotallo being forced into roles they never wanted, being alone and outcast from their tribes, moving through their grief and rage by learning to trust a new found family? being seen by another for more than their physical prowess but their humanity and creativity? excellent shit.

4. favorite platonic relationship: SYLENS AND BETA AND GAIA. Sylens getting taken down a fucking peg or two by a teenage girl and an infinitely compassionate AI. Beta being able to collaborate with someone (and an AI) who sees well beyond her mistakes and faults. GAIA finding consistent, complex companions who remind her fondly of Lis. Sylens making Beta food and teaching her how to cook. HELP ME.

5. Underrated ship: So many. I really love Aloy/Drakka. The idea of him being such a counter to Aloy’s single-minded focus on saving the world by being an absolute goober. But her seeing that he cares so very deeply about doing the right thing and protecting his people. Alva/Beta is sweet. I dig Erend/Talanah.

6. overrated ship: the odyssey. just kidding, i already made a joke about a boat.

7. one thing i would change in canon: the entire last act? specifically varl’s death, that kotallo doesn’t fly to the grove with aloy, that aloy ends the entire tenakth/regalla conflict via single combat duel, and then fights alone twice more with erik and tilda. RIP all the build up to aloy understanding that she’s not alone and all the people in her life are as competent and complex and have just as much stake in the fate of the world as she does. and beyond that, i deeply regret the way they wrote talanah in hfw. she shoulda had that fourth bunk in the base.

8. something canon did right: don’t get me wrong, i wish fashav hadn’t died at barren light, but i love his back story and everything we find out through his journals. added so much nuance to carja and tenakth cultures and characters in just a handful of paragraphs.

9. a thing i’m proud of creating for the fandom: i’ve been in a perpetual state of burnout for yeeeeeears. this kotallo portrait was the first piece i’ve drawn in ages. i’m also working on a bookbinding project and doing art for Kotallo with amazing folks on Focus on the Heart.

10. a character who is perfect to me: Hekarro. I hope the writers, animators, and actor who made him come to life are very proud of their work.

11. character i relate to most and why: uhhh like every other neurodivergent queer with trauma and parental issues, i gotta go with beta.

12. character(s) i hate most and why: tekkoteh. absolute steaming pile of shit. genuinely every time i think i’ve reached peak hatred for that slime, someone writes a beautiful fic where i find myself despising him more. in my interpretation, there’s no world where he didn’t take advantage of, manipulate, and abuse kotallo after his parents died.

13. something i’ve learned from the fandom: awww this is cheesy, but i learned how to take a chance and post things i make again. most people are so curious and so excited to discuss lore or characters in good faith. oh, recently i did discover i missed MANY post-mission dialogues for side quests on my first few playthroughs.

14. three tags i seek out on ao3: i’m guaranteed to get drawn into anything re: kotallo and fashav’s early marshal days, lis character development, aloy/kotallo hurt/comfort (sue me)

15. a song i associate strongly with my otp/favorite character: i made this playlist based off this fic. it’s basicallg my score for fashav and kotallo falling in love during their marshal duties. instants by skúli sverrisson and anything by hermanos gutiérrez sends me into pondering fashav and kotallo’s lives together.

i’m gonna tag @poulticepurse @fogsblue @rowanisawriter @ayaitch @robo-dino-puppy if y’all wanna do this?

[cupozo]

Completed the Oct prompt "Night Is Dark And Full Of Terrors" so i had to do some writing. ended up writing more than needed but it is what it is. You can read it under the cut. TW for Drowning and mild body horror

It's The Hootenanny! Kits from all over the grove are playing games and filling their bags with all sorts of treats. Kits follow the path decorated with strings and streamers that sparkle in the warm light of Lanterns. Carved gourds line the path making a barrier between the warm safety of the festival and the dim uncertainty outside their light. Masked faces peer at folk mischievously with painted grins as they hand out the coveted treats. Like the other kits crowding the path Fig and Spec are make their way up the path to the great tree. Fig crouches self consciously, The tendrils on their cheeks betray them, curling and uncurling, unable to hide their nervous excitement. They smooth them down hoping it makes them less visible. They always betray them, never doing what they want. Like they don't belong on their body. In a way they don't, fig had no say in their appearance. Like the webbed ears and fish-like tail that replaced their hatchling traits. Forever visibly linked to the ether surge and the deep ones. They look down tendrils blocking their view of the dirt they stand on The only indication of there being a body under it is the small hand clutching a little pale of sweets. Their hand, they remind themself as they shift their grip on the handle.

    Fig feels a nudge “Masks. wanna look?” Spec is pointing at a bed-sheet banner hanging over a shoddily constructed table. red splattered lettering spells “Masks for sale." A scarecrow standing behind it grinning in their direction. “Ah uh sure” spec looks at their nest-mate with concern seeing the nervous darting glance from their hand and to the ground “if we need to go back..” “No!.. No I-I don't want to miss this year’s trek” Fig tries to look resolute in their statement but falls short glancing away when their eyes meet specs. “Mmk let's go then”

    The table is covered in stacks of masks all made of dried gourd skin, some with the characteristic warty surface of pie gourds, others with the smoother surface of lantern gourds. 10s of crudely carved eyes stare at the 2 of them.  Fig begin shuffling through the mask, some cute, carved into the shape of goobers or dotties, others warped and unsettlingly folk like. A shiver runs down their spine when they look at those one for too long. They flip those ones face down. A whining noise causes fig to look up from their sorting. “Hey fig, I think I'm actually gonna go bob for fruit. The tail is hungry.” they look at the Spec then the drooling tail. Straining toward the bobbing pond. Her tail was like his tendrils set upon them like a curse, but unlike fig spec seemed unbothered by the new parts of herself. They envied that in her. “You'll be safe without me, yeah?” It was only a few yards up the path “ah yeah” as long as she was within yelling distance they would be fine. Left alone fig continued sifting through the stacks. Someone nearby sniffles.  Fig pauses a moment  glancing up, no one around. spec, still over bobbing. The scarecrow, still standing there. They warily go back to looking at the masks. Another sniffle they look at the scarecrow again. “H- hello?” fig reaches out and tentatively taps the head of the scarecrow. A moment of still. Suddenly the scarecrow leaps from its position behind the table yelling “BOO!” fig yelps jumping into the air. Fig hits the ground running, dashing over to spec and he scarecrow gives chase. 

    Spec, having heard figs yelp, is watching the chase. Letting out a frustrated sigh.  Fig lakes it to the bobbing pond running behind spec the scarecrow right behind them arms raised. They both run circles around spec a few seconds before she sticks her arm into the circle, clothes lining the scarecrow causing them to topple to the ground. The scarecrow sits up the head turned sideways “Heyyy” the scarecrow whines “Alright… that's enough fun for you boo” Spec gestures to fig “i told you to be nice to them you’ll give them nightmares.” “Nightmares, what are they a hatchling? I was just playing with them” Specs jaw sets ”but.. I’ll make nice if you really want” spec stares them down for a moment “Mk” Boo stands shaking dry grass from their cloak and adjusts their pumpkin head. They slides over to fig “Hey so, sorry for chasing you. It really wasn't my plan but you were getting suspicious of me too quickly, so I just went with my instincts.” they cackle “you’re reaction was great tho” fig still catching their breath whimpers “So you just chose to do that to me in particular?” boo cocks their head  “if you want to see it that way sure, but its part of my booth not only do i sell my art but i sell an experience.” “an experience.” spec says dryly. “Yes, an experience.” they say rolling their eyes through the helmet. 

    “So, What did you think?” the step toward fig “did you see anything you liked ill give you one for free since you were so fun to scare!” fig backs up a bit “i uh id have to go look agi-” “Oh! I have some with me, here” fig forces a smile “oh?” Boo lifts their large pumpkin head off revealing they had a Kibbie mask on under the gourd. “So did you like this one or~” they shuffle a bit under their cloak pulling another mask out replacing the kibbie mask for a soobus mask. “.. this one or maybe this one” the flip the gourd helmet over pulling another mask from it “Boo, give em some space you're being to much for em” spec warns “it ok i just have this one” They swap the swoobus mask for the new one. it is the grotesque form of something vaguely folk-like with wide eyes and jagged teeth peeking from the bottom. fig backs up further suddenly starting to feel themself lose balance. Fig sees spec begin to reach for them. The Crash of the water’s surface being broken deafens them as Cool water floods their mouth and nose. Black water surrounds them, dragging them down deeper and deeper. in coolness of the water they felt a light tickley sensation across their tail, and ankles. The clear view of their legs surprised them, now missing collar of tentacles they had grown used to.  green strands float suspended connected to a large tail barely visible in the dark water water.  white panic rips into their chest. thrashing trying to swim trying to get out. The water’s surface gleams with 2 white moons, them self weaken the longer they try to swim for the surface. 1 set of white eyes staring down at them. They feel their skin squirm under it’s gaze, pulling them toward the unblinking eyes. The stop Their lungs crying out for air, Their head growing foggy, their body growing limp. The moons begin to blur and bloom at the edges. There was no surface to swim for, no release of air, no escape. They feel that green strands wrap around their arm. They let themself be taken by the current. Writhing tendrils reaching for the gleaming eyes above them. The blurry warped shape of an adult folk looks down on them. They feel warm hands begin to lift them up. Crashing water once again deafens them as fig is pulled from the water. Gasping and coughing hoarsely they are sat on dry grass. Spec is there with them in a moment, an attentive hand on their back as they try to make their lungs stop burning.  They were only under for a moment but that's all it took. Hot tears well up in their eyes mixing with the cold water still dripping down their face.  The adult who pulled fig from the water brings a warm blanket and wraps it around them. “Do you need to go back to the den” fig nods shakily still heaving through sobs. “Ok lets go” The folk lifts up their shaking form breaking from the circle of kits that formed around them. Watching quietly whispering among themselves then dispersing to enjoy the rest that the trail has to offer. Spec and a mask-less Boo walk down the trail following close behind the carried fig back to the den

[neverkayzat]

This is the post where I go insane over every single detail I shoved into the Art of Scraping Through fanart I did recently! I spent around twenty hours on it so now you have to suffer my info dumping :')

Before I start ranting, I have to give props to Squaffle! They made me realize that I can make fanart of fanfiction by making fanart of fanfiction. Wow. I am really smart. Also, I used their designs as inspirations for what I used in this picture. Their art is phenomenal! Check it out! :)

First: The background!

There's something outside of each window! Each window is copy and pasted, but there is an outside. Even if you can't see it. Also, to the right is the Steelers flag (Pennsylvania football team) and a newspaper of the bar opening. You can barely see this in the final version.

Right above Frank's head is the map of West Grove (where they are)! Also, the second image is just a bunch of assorted photo's. I was trying to capture a really run down bar that has black and white pictures of the owners and old pictures of when their bar was a hit. Didn't reallllllyyy manage it, but hey, the pictures look nice :)

Second: The people

This is what the back, back ground people look like without any blur. Also, don't mind Frank. He was the last thing I drew.

These three are OC's of me and my friends, but humanized. Starting from the left is Eclipse, then Vas (who is conveying that Linen, another OC, is saying hi), and finally Arsonist, who is complaining about the humanization. I love sneaking goofballs into pictures they're not meant to be in.

On the left is my persona. It's me guys!! In the final, the only unblurred thing you can see is the fingers. On the right is Canvas, another OC, however you can just see her hair.

This guy in the background is also another OC (my word I'm fitting everyone in here). Not much to say, just that I was up at one in the morning drawing this goober. This is when I hit the ten hour mark.

This is a picture with only the middle people. I remembered that I didn't need to draw full people here. Also that they didn't need to be super detailed.

Fun fact! The guy on the left is someone you cannot see on the final because of cropping. I realized that this picture was not center, and centered it. These two are inspired by my brother (left) and father (right).

This guy is another OC, Bithal. I hate her.

Third: Overall Details

Every beer bottle has AST on the logo. For Frank, it's hard to see because his fingers are covering it up, but it's there!!

There are more drinks on Marc's side to show his drunken state. Also, his beer bottle is empty while Frank is still working on his, as seen in the final picture.

Marc's entire outfit. Oh my god.

The scratch thing on both of their skin! This is also seen basically everywhere but shhhh.

One final detail (probably will be multiple if I know myself well) to conclude this is that color theory is super cool. Marc is all warm colors. His outline is a mixture of yellows and oranges. These colors are associated greater with topics such as happiness and positivity. However, his outfit, demeanor, and outline is a contrast to Frank's deep blues. His outfit is mostly comprised of cool colors, those which normally resemble sadness, isolation, etc. Essentially, what I'm trying to get at with these colors are that Marc is more open in this scene (alcohol be like) while Frank is still the man we know.

Also, his laughter and bubbles are teal because in the comics, teal is one of the main colors that represent Moon Knight. Look at the Mackay run with its major use of teal. It's beautiful.

AANNNDD there are dots everywhere. I love the dots. There's so many of them. I constantly found myself asking "can I use dots here?" and the answer was yes. Yes, you can always use dots here. At the beginning, it was so the picture could resemble an old comic style, but I kind of gave up six hours in and went crazy without any motive.

I hope you enjoyed my very, very long rant on what this picture is all about!! I really enjoyed drawing this! See the final post here!

[saphssapphire]

WILT - Shelley Short Story - Edelsteen

Here's the next Shelley Short Story! Sorry it took me so long to write it and then even longer to remember to post it here lol

Uh yeah! Click the Read More to see the story and enjoy!

Am I gonna tag this with the Postknight 2 tag? Sure I guess

-FIVE-

Man, I love those goobers.

Shelley ran down a long path for her deliveries, feeling the wind in her face and admiring her surroundings. The sun shone high in the sky, slowly descending in the evening hours. Birds flew near the edges of the path, scattering as she approached. Leaves from the ground blew away in the dust cloud forming behind her, as more slowly descended from the grove of surrounding maple trees.

“Hah! A genuine Prisma Gem in the trash, who would’ve thought?” Shelley chuckled to herself. Earlier that day, at the eatery, they’d found one of the coveted gems in the dumpsters, thanks to Mallow. Loftie was absolutely over the moon about it.

It didn’t quite please Kao as much, when they talked about the gem as a symbol of his “incredibly obvious” crush on Alfawl, earning them a flight into the roadside. And honestly? Shelley didn’t mind; she greatly enjoyed these little moments with the balcony gang. No worries, no judgment, no need to pretend; she can just be who she is with them.

It feels like forever since I’ve felt this great, Shelley thought to herself. Years and years of worry, of sorrow, of beating herself up over little things. But the world doesn’t have to be like that. Maybe, sometimes she can just accept things as they’ve been, and move on. Just let it be.

She slowed her pace a little, from a full-on sprint to more of a jogging speed, watching the blurred landscape come into clearer view. It should be nearing sunset soon- this feels like a pretty decent spot to watch it, maybe a short little stroll next to the river. The mountains near Hollorim City are still just barely visible around here, looming in the background over a vast forest or rich oranges. If she had her camera with her, it’d make for some pretty nice pictures- Mawsit would probably like that. Well, she can *koff* try to do some sketches for her, still. Very heavy emphasis on the “try”.

What’s she waiting for, then? Two more deliveries for the day.

-SIX-

“Thank you for your patience! Sorry about the wait!”

Alright, second-to-last delivery done. One more to go, last one for the day; she’s almost ready to head back. The road shouldn’t be much of a hassle at this hour, near the end of many Postknights’ shifts. Maybe a dire wolf here, a puffbit there, but she can more or less just zip through the path nice and easy-

As her scarf flaps in the wind, it snags on a branch, sending Shelley tumbling face-first into the dirt like a blooplet trying to make its escape. Unfortunately, unlike the blooplets, her bag gets knocked off and flies into the ground.

Shelley coughs, spitting out the bits of dirt and standing up to scoop all the knightmail back into the bag. She quickly inspects each scroll as she returns them; thankfully, there doesn’t seem to be any major damage to the paper or seals. Maybe a bit of dirt on them, but the scrolls themselves are typically discarded after each use, anyway. The contents are safe, and that’s what matters.

After reattaching the bag to her belt, she attempts to brush the dirt off her uniform and scarf, though it’s pretty hard to get the fresh new dirt stains out of them. Her pants have some rips from scraping it on the dirt, and the scarf’s got a new hole in it from snagging on the branch. Not a big deal, though; her clothes have gone through worse, and it isn’t hard to get some repairs for them. As long as the flower’s fine-

Wait- the flower.

Where’s the flower?

-SIX-THIRTY-

Shelley panics. No. No. This isn’t good. She can’t afford to lose that flower. Maybe her books, her necklace, her experimental kit, but never that flower. It’s the last thing she still owns from-

She sighs. I thought I was all over this. But once again, her brain’s looping, trying to send her hurtling back, forcing her to think about all of this again. Everything that went wrong. Everything that’s clearly not as big a deal as it feels like- right?

Nope. Nope nope nope nope nope. She has to get the flower back, no matter what. But where could it have gone? How did she lose it? It doesn’t make sense that it flew off on the trail; it was tightly secured, she swears. Right?

But then where could it be? The mailbox, where she was scrambling to load the scrolls into her bag, after remembering them far too late in the day? The house she’d just stopped at to complete a delivery? That one skirmish with an alpha dire wolf far too eager to tussle with a Postknight?

Wait. The Edelsteen? Could she have left it there? It seems possible, considering the rush she made trying to leave in time to finish her duties. If it fell off on the balcony, maybe someone found it and picked it up- hopefully one of her friends and not a random patron. Then again, it could’ve also been when she rushed out at the front door, where any random patron actually could’ve picked it up. How would she be able to expect that the flower was safe- if it was actually there?

That’s her best bet, though. Shelley takes off with a running start, back in the direction of the eatery, fast as she can. It’s getting late in the day- really late in the day, and the restaurant’s probably like an hour away. She has to be as quick as possible to try and get the flower back. 

No pests better stand in her way; if there’s even one pippop cluttering the road, it’s getting flung into the sky.

“I’m coming for you, little coralina.” 

-SEVEN-

“Coralina? After your flower?”

Shelley lets out a soft smile. Her eyes seem to glitter a little, next to the waters of the Gleam Grotto. “Yeah.”

The two sat quietly, right at the edge of a small cliff near the outermost parts of Eventide Cove. Shelley wasn’t sure how she’d ended up coming here again- at the dungeon, as the Ruxus explorers called it, or so close to Shello Bay. She’d made an effort to avoid these parts for a while, but when Mawsit wanted to go see the western Kurestian bay, how could she say no?

“I think it really suits you!” Mawsit says, beaming like the sun poking through a dark, gloomy storm. “Can I call you that, then? Coralina?”

Shelley lets out a small sigh. “My mother used to call me that, all the time.”

Well, that just hurt a bit more than she’d expected it to. She’s been avoiding Shello Bay all this time, because she didn’t want to have to process any of this more than she had to. And now, another person, asking whether they could use her old nickname… 

“Oh, she gave you that nickname?” Mawsit questions, then pauses. “Look… I know you’ve talked about how hard it was for you to lose her.”

“...It’s okay. Don’t mind me, I’m fine.”

I’m fine? Am I? Am I seriously unable to say anything else to anyone, except claim that I’m fine?

“Alright.” Mawsit replies. “That’s good, that’s good, but just remember, I’m here for you, alright? You can rely on me. Take your time, but if you need someone, I’ll listen.” 

“Thanks, Mawsit. Promise?”

“I promise, Coralina.”

The wind whips around in the late night, leaving Shelley alone with her thoughts, as she sprints closer and closer to the eatery.

-EIGHT-

Shelley screeches to a stop. She’s made it back to the eatery, but it’s so late that most of the patrons seem to be gone. The last few people seem to be streaming out of the front door. An employee or two seems to be packing up and heading home, even.

How long has she been out there? Three hours? Not good. The chances of finding that flower is definitely dwindling rapidly.

Alright. Someone could have already made off with the flower, but let’s try to take that chance- that’s all we can do. At least, if it’s still here, it shouldn’t be too hard to find, with the bright pink colors standing out so much.

She walks up near the balcony, under the flickering, wonky street lamp, checking around the dumpsters, the restaurant’s personal wishboard, and the bench. No flower here- though there’s certainly a lot of litter. Half-empty food wrappers and damp, crumpled cups- Al and Kao probably won’t like that a lot, but Mallow probably would. 

Kicking over the loose cobblestones in the back alley doesn’t reveal anything, either, so Shelley decides to head up. Climbing up the small spiral stairs to the balcony also doesn’t seem to bear any fruits, though. She’d assumed it was there, but between the umbrella tables, purnana hammock, and blooplet bean bag chairs, there really isn’t much except for what seems to be a fallen cupcake or two. The rest of the balcony gang is already gone, so she can’t ask them, but maybe she can find Al and Kao? Or any of the other employees, really- she’ll take what she can get at this point. They’re probably inside, tidying up for the end of the day.

As Shelley’s about to head inside, she hears one of the patrons’ voices coming from the front of the restaurant.

“Such a pretty flower! Who would’ve thought something like this would just be lying on the sidewalk?”

She whips around her head. They’re holding the coralina flower- her most precious possession- carelessly in their hands. Gripping it by the petals, fumbling around with it to look at all the details. The flower’s stained with dirt and gravel- she’s gonna have to clean that, as soon as she talks to them and gets it back-

“Oh, there’s dirt on this petal… What a shame, I guess I’ll just pluck–”

“NO!”

This is NOT happening. This is NOT happening. She won’t let it.

Shelley leaps off the balcony, barreling full-force into the customer- but it’s a second too late, and she knows it. Right as she crashes down, bowling both of them down on the ground, the flower goes flying-

petals torn, fluttering in the wind, 

her last connection, the one thing she felt like rooted her down properly,

the flower her nickname comes from, the symbol her mother saw in her

Ruined, 

No

torn, 

no

falling

falling