#i want to start working on commission set up since it might be a bit before i get a job.

[protectorcraft]

wwwhhyyyy isnt kofi letting me log in on my computer- NEVERMIND GOT IT

[rustedhearts]

just friends (again) (roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader)

summary: you’ve convinced everyone around you that you and steve are just friends. now you just have to convince yourself—but it proves difficult when steve finally admits how he feels.

uses she/her pronouns and female anatomy.

✶ just friends (part one) ✶ the library

tags: pining, yearning, they want each other so bad they're so stupid, little angst/hurt/comfort, oh steve harrington the man that you are. didn't proofread so ignore any mistakes oops.

buy me a ko-fi! (my blurb commissions are also still open!)

“I’m having a little carpet picnic.”

Julia Roberts’ voice filled the living room with a familiar warmth. The pinks and whites of the Beverly Hills hotel room from Pretty Woman coated the couch and the surface of your face with a gentle glow. The Chinese food you ordered a few hours ago was starting to stink. Even Ted, who was curled at your feet for most of your movie marathon, could no longer stand the vegetative life and scampered away.

It had been a week since Eddie broke things off. After Steve punched him, you spent the Sunday post-knockout calling and texting, hoping to sort things out. But Eddie never picked up. Eddie never replied. You figured stopping by the shop was a bit too far—if he wanted to talk to you, he would’ve by now.

So here you were, spending another weekend on the couch. Single. Broke. Lonely.

“He thought I was cheating on him,” is the excuse you have for getting dumped.

But the look on Theresa’s face when you told her is the first time it made you recoil. The first time you doubted that Eddie was 100%, entirely out of his mind.

Theresa winced into the overpriced lattes you were drinking at a curbside patio on Wednesday. “Well…I mean…”

And you gasped, mouth agape and heart hammering in your chest. What the fuck did that mean? Because you were just friends. All Steve ever was and is: your best friend. Why did everyone act like you were having a secret affair when the doors were closed on the public?

“You’ve gotta be kidding me—“

“I’m not defending the prick,” Theresa justified. “He was an asshole for talking to you like that. But I can see why he might have thought that. You and Steve are really close. Like…very close.”

“We’re friends,” you insisted.

And Theresa dropped it, holding her hands above her latte with innocent agreement. But her words haunted you the entire week. Every time Steve filled your coffee and had it ready on the counter for your commute to work (he even used your favorite travel mug). Every time he came home with a bag of peanut m&ms when he dropped by the store because it was the little treat you always asked for, but he didn’t even need to be asked anymore.

But like any other Saturday, the apartment was void of him for most of the day. He mumbled some excuse about going to the mall through your door this morning, and when he came home twenty minutes into Pretty Woman with an Abercrombie shopping bag, you knew he’d been date shopping.

“Hey,” he called to you, door clamping closed behind him. His keys jingled on their toss toward the table cluttered with half-opened mail.

Cheek squished against a throw pillow, body splayed flat on the couch, you cut him a glance sideways and adjusted the volume. “Hey.”

Steve kicked off his shoes and set his bag near the door, making your chest tighten when he immediately sauntered toward the couch. He turned to the tv with his hands on his hips.

He asked what he always asked, despite his eyes watching the very thing. “Watchya watchin’?”

“Pretty Woman.”

“Did you already watch Mystic Pizza?”

“Yep.”

Steve sighed. “Damn. Alright, well, scooch over.”

When he plucked your feet up and flopped down under them, he smelled like the sickeningly sweet butter of a soft pretzel, and the overwhelming stench of Abercrombie & Fitch. You couldn’t believe he still shopped there.

His hands were still resting on your ankles, bracing your feet against his jean-clad thighs. His touch was warm, soft, all-encompassing—and suddenly all you could think about even as Richard Gere came on screen. Steve's touch, his heat, the body those hands came attached to resting just inches away. He was wearing blue today. He looked so good in blue.

You swallowed and coughed, cheek rubbing on the pillow. Steve’s finger twitched around your calf.

“You okay?”

“Mhm,” you croaked.

His eyes bored into you for a moment before he turned back to Julia Roberts. "Notting Hill or My Best Friend's Wedding after this?"

Your lips parted to reply, but then his finger began tracing shapes into the patch of skin between the bottom of your pant leg and the elastic of your sock. Air choked in your throat. Your eyes bulged on the glowing television screen. The muscles in the center of your body knotted and squeezed like nausea.

In your stock-still state, it didn't even occur to you that Steve somehow knew your entire I'm-sad-and-can-only-watch-Julia-Roberts-movies marathon setlist, but it certainly crossed your mind later on. You and Steve are really close. Maybe Theresa had a point.

"Um..." Your tongue darted out to lick your suddenly-dry lips.

"You good over there?" Steve chuckled, head tipping to gauge the features and their current predicament on your face.

You buried it further into the pillow, as far as it could go without hiding completely. "Yes, Steve, I'm fine."

Steve pulled back, settling into the couch again. "Jeez, oh-kay."

He waited a moment, and you inched free from your pillow enough to bring your eye back to the television, doing your best to focus on the movie you'd seen a million times and not Steve's hand sweeping under your pant leg. He'd done that a million times, too. Touched you. Felt you.

He held your hand when you crossed the road like a child that needed guidance. He braced your back to move you which way he wanted, and to pull you close when public situational occurrences arose that made him uncomfortable. He brushed your hair once when you were victim to an ungodly illness that had you picturing death. He removed your makeup on your birthday last year when you got so drunk you puked in the doorway.

His hands were always so gentle. His touch was always so soft.

But, God, why did it feel so different right now? Why did it feel so good?

"Want a mall haul?" Steve asked, too uncomfortable in the sudden silence of the living room. He was already standing and placing your feet back on their own before you could reply.

In your periphery, he headed toward the door to retrieve the bags he neglected. "Got a couple shirts to try. Also, am I too old for that store? I swear, everyone in there was like a little Taylor Lautner wannabe from 2012—meaning they were fourteen and on steroids—"

"Steve!"

He stopped. Standing at the edge of the rug with both hands on the corded handles of his Abercrombie & Fitch shopping bag to pull it open. The snicker gathering in his throat hitched into a snort, smirk drooping into wide-eyed surprise.

You never yelled. Not at him. Not at anyone that didn't deserve it, like the neighbors when they were arguing too loud again and you were trying to nap. Like the guy that tried to steal Steve's package a few months ago that you nearly tackled down the hall.

But never Steve.

You shot up on the couch, hands flying to your pounding head. "Just...please! I don't want a mall haul, I don't want to talk, I just...—I just wanna be alone."

Steve blinked, cheeks colored pink. He closed the bag slowly, paper crinkling as he went. He took it in one hand and backed up, stepping off the rug foot by foot. He glanced at Ted, who skittered in surprise at your outburst and was standing with an arched back and black pupils near the tv stand.

"Uh...yeah, okay. Sorry," he mumbled, scratching at the nape of his neck.

Your shoulders slumped, deflating into the couch as Steve turned his eyes to the floor and tugged at the back of his hair. That stress tick again—the one you hated causing. He turned slowly, caution stiff in his spine. You watched his finger twist and wind into a lock of chestnut hair as he trudged into the hall. His door clamped closed a moment later.

A heavy, moaning sigh shuddered from your mouth as you flopped back on the pillow. Two arms locked over your head, pressing down on your eyes to blind them and the horror you created.

"Slippery little suckers," Julia Roberts snickered on the screen.

"It happens all the time."

✶ ✶

You ate dinner separately. It was the first time you'd ever eaten dinner separately within the same four walls. Even the night you moved in together, when you were nothing but a pair of strangers gauging how weird it might be to live with the opposite sex without something romantic or sexual in the undertones—even then, you ate a greasy cheese pizza together on the living room floor with an empty box as makeshift table.

He asked all the right get-to-know-you questions, and when he successfully made you laugh with all his snarks and quips, you knew Steve Harrington would be an alright roommate. You never figured he'd become your best friend.

Tonight, you pouted into the salad you regretted purchasing yesterday because a "healthy" lifestyle was born and had died within the span of your forty minute shopping trip. And now, you wanted nothing but another wet, shiny pizza, and Steve Harrington's dumb jokes.

He ate in his room. Shuffled out while you were finishing Notting Hill and made another bland chicken-rice-and-broccoli dinner. And then he shuffled past you, shut his door, and ate it alone. Never even giving you a chance to tease his unseasoned plate for the purpose of "gains." You thought he could remain just as toned and handsome with flavor on his food.

By the time you were showered, redressed, and gurgling with lingering hunger, you were properly sour with guilt.

And maybe the black sweatpants with the bedazzled jewels on your ass were pulled on with manipulative purpose before you shuffled to Steve's door. You lingered there a while, gnawing on the skin around your thumbnail and glancing between the wood grain of Steve's door and the plush surface of your yellow slippers. At this proximity, you could hear the low hum of his radio behind the door. He had a strange affection for the 70s and 80s station.

If only you knew that it was because Steve knew "the all time hits of the 70s and 80s" were your favorite.

The radio dimmed, and a moment later Steve's voice called through the door. "I can hear you lingering out there."

You jumped, stepping away from the door. Your thumb returned to your mouth, teeth piercing the skin to nibble it away. The shuffle of feet and jingle of the doorknob came too swiftly for you to evade, and then the door swung open to reveal Steve in grey sweatpants and a tight red t-shirt. He looked good in red, too.

"Oh. Hi," you murmured, hand instantly dropping to your side.

Steve caged the doorway, biceps bulging on either side. You averted your eyes with a swallow.

He sighed. "Hi."

Steve watched you sweep a slippered foot back and forth like sloshing through water. He tipped his head and bit away a smile when he caught the edge of a jewel on your hip. His favorite sweatpants.

"Are you mad at me?"

Steve sighed again, this time a little shaken with laughter. "No, kid. I ain't mad at ya."

To prove his point, he nudged the door open with his palm and motioned toward the bedroom behind him. "Come on in."

You flopped on the edge of his bed, bounced up and down by old springs. Steve swung the door closed and joined you, easing back against his wooden headboard to reassume his rumpled position. He reached toward the nightstand and turned the knob on the radio to lower the Elton John song playing.

Steve snatched the small plastic basketball from behind the radio and tossed it in the air. "So, what's goin' on?"

You watched the ball soar into the air and come back down into his palm. "I didn't mean to snap at you. I was just...cranky."

Steve quirked a brow, catching your eye over an orange blur when he threw the ball again. "Yeah? That all?"

The corners of your mouth pulled down. "Yeah...? What else would it be."

Steve shrugged, chin turned up toward the ceiling as he watched the basketball fly toward it. Elton John died down and switched to Def Leppard. "Hysteria" was one of Steve's favorite songs.

"You tell me. You were having a Julia Roberts marathon."

"So?" Your thumb returned to your mouth, teeth ripping at the skin.

"You only watch Julia Roberts when you're sad."

"Not true."

Steve fixed his head straight again, eyes narrowing into a pointed look. The basketball sat in his right palm against his chest. You huffed, angling yourself toward the door to glare at it instead of your roommate and his smug, all knowing expression.

He waited a while, like he always did—waiting out your stubbornness and refusing to let it break him. You could talk to him, you knew that. He wanted you to know that.

"I guess..." You sighed, throwing yourself back on the bed with your arms locked over your eyes. "I guess I'm just upset that Eddie still hasn't called. I've been calling and texting him, but...he doesn't wanna see me."

Steve immediately felt every blood cell in his body curdle. Like they were burning and festering, irritated under his skin. He swallowed, bringing the basketball to sit between his knees where he could pick at the design with blunt fingernails.

"And you want to see him?"

You dropped your arms, letting them plop to your sides. "I mean...yeah."

Steve couldn't help it—he scoffed.

The sound had your head turning, brows furrowed his way. His head was shaking, eyes focused distinctly downward to avoid yours. All the smugness of his expression dimmed into something distasteful and angry.

"What the hell was that for?"

"Nothing."

"You scoffed."

"I sighed."

"No, you scoffed."

"Well—"

This time, Steve did sigh. He took the basketball in his hands and chucked it toward the door, causing it to boomerang off the wood and catapult back toward the mattress again. The sharp smack had you jolting upward, and your eyes widened on Steve when he hopped from the bed and stood to his feet.

"What the hell—"

"He's not good enough for you!"

You paused on weak wrists used to push you upward. Steve stood a foot away from the bed with pink cheeks and outstretched hands. They curled back toward him to sweep through his hair and tug hard at the roots.

"Steve—"

"He sucks. Alright? All your ex boyfriends sucked, but especially Eddie. He didn't understand you, he didn't appreciate you. He made you cry, for fuck's sake, and you want him back? I just don't get it."

Your lips parted, but it felt like gulping for water on dry land. And Steve watched, helplessly, as you stammered for words in the face of his impending and inevitable confession. Inevitably painful, he knew, but he could no longer stomach the tireless routine of finding the body closest to yours in another dark bar, hoping she would comfort him enough to soothe the ache he had for you.

You, who slept across the hall and shared the sofa with your head on his shoulder. You, who looked at him like some sort of light source with those little round eyes. You, who made his heart pound and weep endlessly every second that you were near, and every moment you were away—leaving him in a constant, centrifugal loop of torture.

So—knowing it might ruin every bit of good the pair of you worked so hard to keep—Steve stepped closer to the bed and swallowed. He prepared himself to form the words he'd practiced a million times over in his head.

"I just figured that eventually...you'd get tired of all the wrong guys, and realize that...I'm here. That it was me, that you loved me. Because I love you—don't you love me?"

He paused, but it would never have been enough time for your mind to process his proclamation. He had a look of such anguish embedded in his features, all scrunched and screwed together with wet, shiny eyes.

"And I figured it was easier to sleep my way around than sit and watch you waste your time with these idiots. But they were never you. And I never bothered to get to know them, because I only wanted to know you."

Your breath hitched when Steve crowded your corner of the bed, hands clasped over his chest. You had to tip your head back to meet his eye, and you felt your arms shake in their locked position holding you up. The sight of him blurred with the onset of your own hot, salty tears.

Steve sniffed: a wet slurp proceeded by a tear slipping down his cheek. He wiped it quickly and sank to his knees before you on the bed, hands coming to cradle your bent knees.

"I just can't take it any longer," he whispered, and his hazel eyes were like shiny coins gazing up at you.

His lips were wet with his own tears. His tongue swept them away. Every breath inhaled rattled in his chest, and every exhale shuddered his cheeks full. He chuckled when he rubbed his palm into his eye and turned it red, sweeping his forearm over his face to clear the tears again but they just kept coming.

"Fuck, say something, please," he huffed, lacing it with laughter despite its absence of humor.

Your throat felt like it swelled to twice the size. Sickness rolled in your stomach. But it only grew at the thought of breaking Steve's heart with your silence. Because the longer he looked at you with those almond eyes, and the longer he sniffled and massaged your knees to comfort himself—the more your heart crumbled.

"I...I don't know what to say," you croaked.

Steve inhaled again, stuttering through a sniffle. He wiped his cheek on your knee and chuckled again. "Yeah. Yeah, of course—it's okay."

"Steve—"

"It's okay," he insisted, scrambling to his feet. He backed away toward the door and you finished pulling yourself upright.

"Steve, wait—"

"Really, it's okay, honey. I'm just gonna...—we ran out of ice cream, so 'm gonna g-go—go get some. Mint chip, yeah? Okay."

He sniffled again upon his exit, slipping through a small crevice he opened the door to. The front door slammed shut moments later, and you rolled onto your stomach to unleash a scream into Steve's mattress.

"Stay tuned for more all time hits of the 70s and 80s!"

✶ ✶

Steve did not return with the mint chip until nearly midnight. It came in a plastic bag that announced his arrival even before the clamber of keys. Yet, it was the squeal of old hinges that woke you from your couch slumber, and you jolted upright as the door swung open.

Steve closed the door and stood there for a moment, spotting you in the dimness of the living room. You rubbed your eye and he shifted on his feet. Ted scampered off the couch and butted at Steve's calf.

He held up the plastic bag. "Got the mint chip. It's uh...it's all melted now, though."

You wanted to reply, to make him feel better again. His eyes were still pink and puffy, and you hated the thought of him spending hours in his car or another dark bar agonizing over what you might be thinking. Worst of all, regretting any of what he said.

Because you spent the past few hours doing plenty of thinking. You laid in his bed, curled on your side, and looked at all the pictures pinned to a cork board above his desk.

The sepia toned film strip from a wedding last fall where you took him as your date. You were smiling in every one, and to the unbeknownst you might have already appeared as a couple.

The Polaroid from his most recent birthday, where you were sitting on his shoulders and clutching onto his hair for dear life. His sister took the picture.

The black and white he printed from his phone of just you on a park bench, feeding the ducks. You never even knew he had that one.

And when you shuffled to your room, you suddenly stopped. The clack of hard-bottomed slippers caught your attention, and you looked down at the plush yellow footwear around your toes—a gift from Steve.

You stood on the other side of your bed and stared at the windowsill full of miscellaneous yellow items all gifted from Steve. The movie ticket stubs shoved in your mirror and the hundreds thrown in a box on your dresser because you'd probably seen a thousand over the years with Steve, who loved movie theater popcorn and sitting close to you in the dark.

The birthday cards he wrote extensive messages of well wishes and gratitude for your friendship in with terrible penmanship. The purse he bought you for that you said you liked in passing but would never spend that much money on, and the note still tucked inside the zipper that came pasted to the bag on Christmas morning:

Because you deserve it.

Love, Steve

And then you ended up on the couch, falling asleep watching the door and waiting for it to open.

Steve trudged to the kitchen while you were lost in thought, and you hurried to catch up as he swung the freezer open. He wrapped the plastic bag around the pint of the ice cream and stuck it on the top shelf, hand reaching to close the door—when he was pushed forward by a force crashing into him.

And then there was warmth around his stomach: two arms curling around his ribs. Two hands pressing to his stomach and pulling him in. Steve stopped, immobilized in the open freezer door.

"I'm sorry," you breathed into his shirt, eyes closed tight. "I'm sorry I didn't say anything, I was just so stunned. And I'm an idiot, I'm an idiot, Steve, for letting this go on for so long. Of course I love you, of course you love me—God, I just never wanted to ruin everything. But you make me so happy, and I—"

Steve spun around, causing your head to lift off his back. You went to drop your arms, but he instantly brought them around his neck. Two hands, still frozen from melting ice cream, braced your cheeks.

"You mean it?"

You nodded in his hold, happy to see his hazel eyes free and clear of tears. "Yes. Yes, of course I mean it—"

"Oh, thank fucking God," Steve breathed, and then his mouth descended on you.

You curled to the tops of your toes to press into his kiss, whimpering at the warmth and softness of his lips. It felt exactly as you thought it would—anticipating their plushness every time he pressed his lips to your cheek over the years.

It lasted until the pair of you were breathless, and you heaved for air upon release. Steve brushed his thumbs over your bottom lip, smearing spit and hemming your airless grin.

He kissed you all night, and let his hands roam where they could not roam before. You fell asleep in his bed tucked under his arm, and when you woke you shared the refrozen pint of mint chip with one spoon.

And when Steve called his sister while you were showering to share the good news, all she did was laugh.

"Jesus, about fucking time."

[the-kingshound]

Personal update

As you might have noticed, I usually try not to leave too much personal information about me on Tumblr. Both because I am a bit paranoid, and because I want to be known as an author, as Kal, the side of me that can use gender neutral pronouns, that can be creative, and vulnerable, and free.

So this post might come as a surprise, but I have this weight on my chest and honestly, I have almost no one to talk to in real life. Consider this a vent, or a confession on my part.

I have not been shy in admitting I suffer from some mental health issues, mainly anxiety and depression. I have also admitted that my games and the community around them have been the only thing to bring me joy the last few years - when the anxiety has quickly become debilitating and then completely crippling.

Most of my issues were due to my academics. You may not know this, but I was enrolled in Medicine (I think it translates to pre med school). It was my lifelong dream to become a doctor, however ever since I started uni, my life has been quickly falling apart. So, more than four years later, I have taken a decision that was incredibly suffered but which has lifted an enormous weight off my chest.

I am dropping out of med school.

And while I am aware I am far from the first person to do that, this decision feels so final. The burial of a dream that had become my whole identity. But even though I cried, and I mourned the loss of the doctor I could have become, I feel like I can finally breathe. And that is what matters.

This means that I will be taking a year off of school. So I will be able to dedicate time to therapy and maybe to working on TKH, if my mental health manages to get a bit better. I would like to do more commissions, maybe even set up montly content for Ko-fi supporters, but we'll see.

Thanks for reading and thanks for the joy you all have brought me over these past incredibly bleak years.

[factual-fantasy]

27 Asks! Thank you! :}} 💞

@peaspods

I might not be understanding, but I'm imagining this as people opening up commissions so people can give them money and they can turn around and donate that money to me..

I fear that this would create the opportunity to scam people.. "I'm taking commissions on behalf of Factual Fantasy! They're very sick so please commission me!" only for them to run away with the money they make..

I've been thinking a lot about setting up some kind of commission/donation thing because I'm starting to kind'a need the money.. but idk, I'm just kind'a run down and need some time to keep thinking about it. Thank you very much though <:)))

@zecromgen5

Thank you very much! :) And I've been hanging in there.. there hasn't been much improvement to my health or my mental state. The fact that in April it will officially been over a year since my health started to decline, and the fact that I'm going to spend my birthday at home collapsed on the couch has made me feel very sad <:( But I'm doing my best to work on it.. I'm hoping this new advice from my doctor helps me feel better <:)

And something good HAS happened actually, I got my tablet/FireAlpaca to work again! :))

XDD SJKFJSH AWW! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD

I've only seen a bit of it from Markiplier. So far I'm 50/50. Somethings I like and others I don't care for 😅

@neo-metalscottic

Thank you so much! :D 'm glad you've liked my recent artwork!! :}}}}

Also for Homes eyes, that was just meant to represent its oppressive presence and the fact that its watching them in that moment.. 👁️👁️

And I don't have any plans for any of the neighbors or Wally to figure out the house is alive. My AU is more like "a day in the life of" thing. Having someone discover Home is alive would move the plot forward. Which I don't feel like doing <XDD

Now communication... Home understands the concept, but he has no way of communicating other than creaking the floorboards and slamming doors..

I've heard about the well. That could work for Cliffjumper and Breakdown maybe.. and the twins perhaps.? But wouldn't they have to have Tailgates body in order to revive him? Hmmm.. idk actually,,

I've watched the bayverse movies, most of Prime and a few other things here and there. I didn't mind the bayverse movies that much, but I can see why a lot of people don't like them <XD

I just imaging trying to consume more than one Transformers media would be a lot to take on.. and I also don't like the animation styles of most other transformers shows 😅

(That's actually how I decided to watch Prime. I took a look at all the shows and went "this one looks ugly, this one looks ugly,, this one looks REALLY ugly.. Oh, this one doesn't look half bad. TFP it is then!")

@acreaturecalledkyfa

I've watched Markipliers first video on it. So far I'm not sure how I feel about those two 😅

The way I immediately opened YouTube and went looking for it XDD

@fandomcenteral (Link in ask)

Thank you so much! :DD This will come in handy!

@mason-gaylord

Aw! Thank you so much!! 🥰🥰

@im-nice-but-i-dont-like-you

Jangles would be a helicopter probably, Gerald would be a tank, Cici would be a Miata and Bibi would be a slightly raised up Miata XDD

Aw, I'm honored that you miss them <:}} Though I don't know if I'll draw them anytime soon.. I'm really not into inserted OCs anymore <:(

I'm waiting on Markiplier to release more videos on it <XD

@fadlingartisanfreakwinner

I like to imagine that Pokémon can learn dozens of moves. But 4 is the limit for official Pokémon battles. So any wild Pokémon in my comics can use/learn as many as they want :0

And yeah, they had that chat eventually. I just never got around to drawing it 😅

@wolfie-777

Nah nah its just iced tea XDDD

@whereismycupofcoffee

:DDD Thank you so much!! :}}}}

AAAA THANKYOU SO MCUHH!! :DDDD

@nuggybee

Yeahh,, Sky has its ups and downs. I'm currently in one of its downs. It seems like I'm let down by everything they're releasing 😓

@smithanonsworld

I feel like I've never seen a rabbit that color... its so cute 😭💞💞💞

@heaventhehedgi3

That sounds like me! Though I don't draw Octonauts anymore 😅

I'll keep it in mind! :0

🥹🥹🥹Aw... that's so sweet! Thank you so much!! 😭💞💞

@captain-skyler1987

You made an account just to follow me? :DD Aw that's so sweet! :) Thank you!

Also I'm sorry to hear you got the flu :(( I hope you're better by now!

I also have not played Dandy's world 😅

@stargirldrawsx3

The first thing that came to mind was very anxious all the time 😅

@network-warrior-01

Ah, that was an April fools post. <XD There is no drawing

[pien-art]

-FAQ-

Hello! I've gained a whole bunch of followers lately and I've been getting a lot of questions about commissions, what my setup is, what brushes I use, etc, so I thought I'd make a post about it to answer everyone's questions at once !

Putting them under the cut <3

Commissions:

Commission prices are listed in my pinned post. You can send me a private message about your commission idea and we can get to talking :) It is helpful to have enough references handy (character, outfit, descriptions etc)

I am generally a fast drawer but I also have a job and a physical disability so there might be moments I can't work on your commission. But that is never longer than a few days at most.

Payment is upfront, the full amount and via paypal only. I know this might seem a bit scary but unfortunately there are a lot of people who end up not paying for commissions and I want to avoid that.

During the process I will send you frequent updates and will ask for input, to see if it is going in the direction you want. You can ask for changes during the sketching progress but once I've started on line-art and coloring, no big changes will happen. (You can for example ask for a different color for a shirt etc, but not for a different prop or pose or expression)

When it is completed, I will send the drawing to you via email. The drawing will remain mine and it is not to be sold or profited of by the person who commissioned me. If the commission is for something commercial/for selling, that needs to be discussed. I prefer to do drawings only for personal use!

For more questions, my dms/asks are open :)

How long have I been doing digital art:

I've been drawing digitally for about 5 years now i think? But before that I've been drawing and painting traditionally literally since the moment I could pick up a pencil.

Set-up:

It's just me and my ipad and apple pencil laying on my bed. I wouldn't even know where to begin for those whole multi-monitor/screen setups ;-; I draw only with Procreate

Brushes:

I tend to play with different brushes from time to time to get different textures, but generally i use the same few for most of my drawings/styles. My favorite one is the Peppermint Brush, for sketching. I use it in every drawing i make! I always sketch with it, and often do the line-art with it as well! And it makes for a nice textured brush for rendering as well! (i used it for a lot of rendering of the armor in this drawing)

The (procreate) brushes i use a lot are

for medieval style: inking - Ink Bleed (for line-art) artistic - Quoll (for coloring)

for general style: calligraphy - Chalk (coloring/rendering) sketching - Peppermint (line-art/sketching)

for realism: calligraphy - Shale Brush (full rendering) Also using the shale brush for smudging and erasing when drawing realistic

for lineart: smooth pencil from this pack by Heygiudi

How/why do you choose a base color:

I tend to look at a few different things when deciding on a base color/color palette.

the overall color of the reference pic

the color i associate with who or what i am drawing

the feeling/vibe i want to give off with that drawing

color has a BIG impact on the vibe of a drawing, so it is something i keep in mind when im drawing.

Using a color as a base to start, helps a lot with my drawing process. It helps me pick out other colors so they match better. It helps me get light/dark values right. And the chalk brush i use, has gaps between the strokes, so the base color will always come through a little. Having the same color come through in the entire drawing, helps pull all the colors together if that makes sense? I always start with a solid base color when i am painting traditionally as well!

Advice:

PRACTICE!!! just keep drawing and practice. I know this is such generic advice but truly practice is The Way. Learn from other artists but don't compare yourself to them. Everyone's artistic journey is different and there's no "good" or "bad". And most importantly make sure that you have fun when you're making stuff :3

I also learn a lot by studying art I admire and love. Figuring out what it is I like about it. (for example, the line thickness or the shapes or texture etc), and try to incorporate that in my own style in a way that is not directly copying or stealing.

[savventeen]

you say the stupidest (sweetest) things

pairing: seungkwan x gn!reader rating: 16+ (for swearing) wc: 4.5k prompt: seungkwan + "things you said at 1am" summary: you say stupid shit on the best of days, so when seungkwan comes over when you're having a bad bout of insomnia, the last thing he expects to hear from you is an accidental love confession warnings: insomnia, mental health issues, dissociation mention tags: fluff, friends to lovers, first kiss, reader is a little unhinged but who isn't tbh, they're also highkey allergic to genuine expressions of love/affection but they're working on it, banter, stimming, wrestling like children to try and work through emotions, reader is some flavor of lgbt+ (they make an "i've never done anything straight in my life" joke), reader's pov is dramatic bc they're dramatic oops a/n: this is for @dokyeomin as a part of my emergency commissions (check out the post here) and this was only supposed to be 1k but it 100% got away from me... i hope you still enjoy the fluff and all of the attached nonsense <3

From: Y/n 🔪 [11:47pm]

yo kwannie if i impulsively decide to go to the 24h convenience store how harshly do u think they'll jusdge me for buying every flavor of gummy candy available *judge i wanna see if i can melt them down into one Ultimate Gummy u know for Science

Seungkwan pauses brushing his teeth and stares down at your messages.

To be fair, it's probably not the strangest thing you've ever texted him. He's known you since your second year of college, after all, so he has about half a decade of experience with all of your various y/n-isms under his belt now.

Which is how he knows to trust his gut when it tells him that this probably isn't your usual brand of nonsense.

He spits the toothpaste into the sink and dials your number. You answer on the second ring.

“Before you say anything,” you start, “I was only half-serious about the gummies thing. Like, it's a fun idea, you know? In theory. But in actuality? I do not want to deal with the mess that it would create. Or the smells. Well, the smells might actually be pretty good depending on—“

“Uh-huh,” he interrupts dryly. “Y/n, when's the last time you slept?”

The beat of silence that follows is enough to confirm his suspicions, and the hesitant “Um” that follows is just the icing on the cake, really.

He sighs. “The fact that you have to think about it says enough.”

“I don’t need to think about it,” you argue petulantly. “I just… don’t wanna tell you.”

“Y/n...” he groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Look, I know, I'm sorry.” And you do sound a little bit sorry, at least. “I'm just. Having an episode. Don't worry about it.”

His shoulders droop as the words sink in. “Episodes” are what you've taken to calling your intermittent bouts of serious insomnia.

Generally speaking, you sleep about as well as the average twenty-something with a caffeine addiction. But every few months or so, it's like your brain completely forgets how to shut off and you end up staying awake for 40+ hours straight.

“Well,” he says, putting his toothbrush away and going back to his bedroom. “You know that ship has sailed, right? You know I'm gonna worry about it.”

Your deep sigh crackles over the line. “Yeah, I know.”

“So. Where're we at this time?”

He mentally braces himself. The two of you have done this enough times now that he knows that you know there's no point in trying to lie or beat around the bush.

“Uhhhhhhh, I'll be hitting the 46-hour mark in about 20 minutes.”

“Aish.”

The fact that you can say that so casually makes his heart hurt. He knows that whenever he doesn't get enough sleep, he makes sure everyone knows it and thus babies him accordingly. But you've always been so intent on hiding anything and everything you struggle with. It's taken years for him to bully himself past the walls you keep hidden behind shit-eating grins and an over-willingness to help.

“Okay,” he says, moving to the dresser to grab an extra set of clothes. “I'll be over in an hour.”

“Wait. What?”

“You heard me.” He tosses the clothes onto his bed before going to grab one of his duffle bags, firmly asserting, “You've got an hour to mentally prepare yourself for my arrival.”

“Honey, you've got a big storm comin',” you quote at him without hesitating.

“You sure do,” he assures with a snort. “Better get ready to feel the wrath of my friendship.”

“Why do you have to love so aggressively?”

He rolls his eyes while he throws his clothes into the duffle bag with one hand. “Because it's the only way you'll accept it, idiot.”

“No, it isn't.”

Your pout is so audible through the phone that Seungkwan has to stop and glance at the screen in disbelief.

“Y/n. Y/n L/n. Do not stand there and lie to my face like that.”

“I'm not lying!”

“Not—” He gesticulates wildly with one hand like he's going Can you believe this shit? to an invisible TV audience. “Okay, tell me this: what did you do the last time I sincerely monologued at you about how much you mean to me as a friend, hmm? No bits, no bullshit, just me telling you how much I love you and how amazing you are.”

A beat. “I'll hang up on you, Kwannie, don't test me.”

He barely resists the urge to shove his face into the bedspread and scream. “You're literally proving my point right now!”

“Kwannieeee,” you whine, because you know he's right.

“Also, because I'm never letting you live it down, I will remind you exactly what you did."

You say his name again, but it's muffled, and he assumes it's because you're hiding your face in shame.

“I gave you a sincere, heartfelt speech about how much your friendship has changed my life for the better and made me become a better person—” he ignores your wordless pterodactyl screech, “—and how do you respond? By staring at me like a deer caught in the headlights, slowly raising your arms to give me double finger guns, winking, and then slowly backing out of the room like an awkward mannequin!”

“...”

“Well?” He puts his free hand on his hip. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“… I’ve changed a lot since then.”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes before moving to continue packing his overnight bag. “It was literally three months ago.”

“Yeah, and? Doesn't change the fact that I've changed,” you assert.

“Into even more of a nuisance? Yes, you're absolutely right.” He smiles when he hears you scoff playfully.

“Listen here, Boo Seungkwan. You know that well-rested Y/n is ready to throw down with you at a moment's notice. What do you think sleep-deprived, zero-impulse-control Y/n is going to do the second you get to their front door?”

“Stop referring to themself in the third person, hopefully,” he mutters, finally zipping up his bag and heading to the door. “And then after that, they're going to let me bully them into resting.”

“Hmm. The council has heard your proposal, briefly pondered it, and deemed it “unnecessary” on the basis of: they're a bad bitch that can't be stopped by neither time nor physics nor any god of your choosing.”

Seungkwan scoffs as he puts the call on speaker and sits to put on his sneakers. “Well, “the council” can go fuck right off.”

“What if the council would like to fuck right on?”

Pausing in the middle of tying his laces, he blinks down at his phone. “I'm— what?”

“Okay, real talk, what do you think it would mean in this case? Like, would this be like a 'hop on' versus 'hop off' situation? Or more like an 'I'm down for this' versus 'I'm up for this' kinda situation? Because it would have very different outcomes depending.”

Seungkwan decides that this is a debate better left for another time. “I think it means that I'm going to be at your house soon and that if you're not in your pajamas with hot Sleepy Time tea and the series Planet Earth ready to go, there will be consequences.”

“Booooooo, you whore.”

He finishes tying his laces and jabs his finger at the phone. “Consequences, Y/n.”

“Ugh, fine.”

“See you soon, love you, bye.” He hangs up before you can get another word in, but doesn't move from his seated position in the entryway.

Slowly, he takes a deep breath in and lets it out, taking a moment to lean back on his hands while he stares at the back of his front door. Specifically, at the large collage of sticky notes and pictures and doodles that have taken up residence there.

A few of the notes are ones he's gotten from other members of your shared friend group over the years (the one from Chan that reads "if u eat my rice i'll eat ur kneecaps xoxo" hangs proudly in the center, right next to a picture of him sleeping that Seungkwan managed to capture from an extremely unflattering angle). But most of them are from you.

Dumb puns, meme references, bullshit animal facts you made up just to get him to laugh… almost all of them are stupid in that extremely charming way that only you somehow manage to pull off.

But the one he's staring at now is almost completely hidden by other notes and pictures that have been added to the collage. It's a pale blue, the ink starting to fade a bit with time — the first note you ever gave him, back when you two were just people who happened to sit next to each other in an astronomy class.

Even though most of it is hidden, he doesn't need to be able to see all the tiny words you crammed into the small space to already know exactly what it says.

how do u make a space party? u planet :P u looked sad today, hope this makes u feel a little better also if this is 2 forward feel free 2 pretend i don't exist. or punt me in2 the sun idk u'd be doing me a favor tbh

He'd almost skipped class that day because of how bad he'd been feeling, but he'd decided to try and push through. And before that day, neither of you had interacted with more than a polite greeting and the occasional question about the homework.

But then you'd passed him that note, and he'd passed one back that said “that's dumb. but thank you” with a smiley face, and you'd passed another one back that said “do u think lizard people have ever been to space?” and the rest, they say, is history.

Seungkwan shakes his head with a sigh before standing up and grabbing his bag and his keys, striding determinedly out the door. He's got a best friend to take care of.

Seungkwan should be at your place soon, and you're not quite sure what to do in the meantime.

You have your laptop hooked up to the monitor in the living room with Planet Earth queued up, you have the kettle filled with water and ready to go on the stove, and you have mugs and teabags ready on the counter next to it.

The Required Tasks™️ have been completed as much as possible without the arrival of your best friend, and now all that's left to do is wait.

Which, normally, you're not the worst at. You're excellent at entertaining yourself, actually, mostly because there's always something to think about. Whether it be about cute dogs that you've seen over the past week (I wonder if the pomeranian down the street will let me pet him next time), potential plot twists for the new fantasy drama you're a little bit obsessed with (what if Gregothy was cursed the whole time???), or generic ponderings of the human existence as a whole (do souls have the metaphysical equivalent of a fingerprint?), you're pretty much always thinking about something.

Which is totally fine and dandy and cool or whatever when you have the ability to, you know, shut it off. For example, when you need to do something simple and necessary like, oh I don't know, go the fuck to sleep.

You also hate when that manic mental energy somehow translates into kinetic energy as well. It makes you feel like a hamster in a cage, watching yourself running and running and running on that stupid wheel until you exhaust yourself.

Tonight's metaphorical wheel: stimming like wild in the kitchen. Flapping, rocking, (gently) slapping, making weird and fun mouth sounds, the whole shebang.

And again, normally stimming is fun. Stimming is great. But stimming because you feel like if you don't stop moving you're going to literally vibrate out of your skin is, to put it lightly, Not It.

It takes you about ten minutes to work out all of the energy until you no longer feel like your blood was replaced with pop rocks.

With a groan, you lower yourself to the kitchen floor and lay down face first. Because despite how exhausted you feel in every possible way, there's still something like an itch in your conscious, a fucking pea underneath the miles of mattresses that refuse to let you just. Fucking. Sleep.

Your pity party must've lasted longer than you realized (or, more likely, you dissociated for a hot second there) because suddenly someone's knocking at your door at the same time you get a text from Seungkwan.

And you know it's a text from Seungkwan specifically because you got Vernon to help you change your notification settings so that whenever Seungkwan texts you, the "i love you.. bitch" sound clip plays instead of a normal text tone.

For a fraction of a second, you contemplate slowly inching your way to the door like an uncoordinated caterpillar, but you swat the thought aside like you’re swatting a gnat and you awkwardly roll to your feet and make your way to your front door.

Without hesitating, you unlock the door, swinging it open with a flourish and sticking a finger right in Seungkwan's face before he can utter a single syllable, forcing him to cross his eyes.

You open your mouth wide like you're going to say something, pause for a moment, then tap your pointed finger to his nose with a quiet "boop."

He blinks, expression turning deadpan, and sighs. "I should have expected this, honestly."

“Yep!”

You let him into your apartment, and he makes himself right at home, mildly bitching at you as he goes to get the tea ready, and something within you shifts.

The inside of your head is still a bit of a dumpster fire, unfortunately, but inside your chest... something clicks into place that you're not sure that you're ready to name. Whatever it is, though, it's soft and warm and kinda feels like your heart is being hugged.

Smiling to yourself, you follow him into the kitchen.

💤 💤 💤 💤 💤

It was pretty much straight to “business” after that, and it only takes Seungkwan one cup of tea and two episodes listening to David Attenborough's dulcet narrations for him to knock right out, leaning heavily against your shoulder on the couch.

Which means it's now the perfect time to sit there and Admire Your Bro™️.

It's rare to see him so still, you think. He's an active guy, in pretty much every sense of the word, and you always feel a little honored when you get to be witness to his quiet, vulnerable moments like this one.

He looks so serene, face smoothed out and painted in soft twirling shades of blue from the screen of the monitor, though you can't see too much of it from this angle. Mostly you just see his cheeks and stupidly adorable button nose.

And you've seen the same thing a million times before — in all kinds of states and expressions — and despite how much you've tried to ignore it, each and every time you've caught yourself noticing just how cute Seungkwan is, it's caused that thing in your heart to scrunch up, full of the L-word feeling that you've kept unnamed for what feels like forever now.

Except, maybe that thing in your heart is tired of scrunching up. Maybe it's decided that it's tired of forever.

Maybe that thing has finally decided to burrow itself out of the walls you've built up because you find yourself finally allowing yourself to think, Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

You don't realize that Seungkwan has completely stilled against you, but you certainly notice when he suddenly throws himself forward so he can turn around and stare at you incredulously. Only he overshoots a little bit and ends up falling off the couch with a squawk and a dramatic flail.

"Oh my god, Kwannie are you okay?!"

He stares at you from where he fell, wide-eyed like you've grown a second head or like the time you'd tried to convince him that birds weren't real and actually just a government conspiracy.

"Am— am I okay? No??"

Now it's your turn to move off of the couch, coming down to his level to see if maybe he hurt himself when he fell. "Fuck, okay, did you hit something? Do you need an icepack?"

Seungkwan being Not Okay is maybe one of the worst things that could ever happen in the entire universe and you're trying not to panic as you reach out to check for injuries.

"No, no, stop—" he bats away at your hands and you stop in your motions, now kneeling in front of him. "I'm not hurt!"

Your brain does the cartoonish screech thing as it comes to a halt, and you furrow your brows. "But.. you just said you're not okay?"

"I'm not!" His eyes are still wide in shock, but he also looks confused and maybe a little bit like he's about to cry?

Oh no. If he cries and it's somehow your fault (because it has to somehow be your fault) you think the world might actually end.

"Okay, uh. I am— confused,” you start, sure you must look as lost as you feel. “But, um, what can I do to help?"

He swallows, and a part of you realizes that he's looking at you with an expression you've never seen before. "Did you mean it?"

Knowing that it's significant but not yet knowing why, you maintain eye contact. "Mean what?"

"What you just said."

You blink. "...that I'm confused?"

He shakes his head. "No, before that."

You have a hard time remembering what you just said when you're not sleep-deprived and worried you've just somehow accidentally caused irreparable emotional damage to your best friend. "Uh... when I asked if you were okay?"

"No, fuck," and it's a shock for some reason, hearing him cuss right now. You hear him say much worse things all the time, but you think it might be the way he said it — with a kind of desperate vulnerability that you're not sure you've ever heard from him before.

That thing in your chest twinges and you think maybe you're the one who's gonna start crying.

He says your name like a plea, and then he's on his knees right in front of where you're kneeling on the floor, reaching forward to cup your face in his palms. "You said— Y/n, you said "holy shit I think I'm in love with you.””

Oh.

You're pretty sure your heart falls right out of your ass and bounces across the rug, judging from the way it comes to a dead stop. You blink at him. Full of new and sinking kind of dread, you whisper, "...I said that out loud?"

He laughs, but it's tinged with incredulity and sounds a little too close to a sob for comfort. "Yes! You did!"

And wait, no, your heart is still stuck in your chest, because you can feel it start pounding against your ribcage in double, triple, quadruple time. He must see the fear in your expression, because suddenly his eyes are narrowed in a determined scowl and he growls, "Oh no you don't."

Then you find yourself going down with a yelp as Seungkwan octopuses himself around you, trapping you within the confines of his surprisingly strong arms and legs as he basically tackles you to the floor.

You try and wiggle away even as you know it's useless, and he grits, "Y/n dammit, answer my question."

"Why were you even awake?” You deflect, getting an arm free and trying to give him a wedgie. “You were supposed to be asleep!"

"I was supposed to be asleep?!” He screeches, easily evading your reach and poking your ribs to get you to reflexively pull back your arm. “You're the one who hasn't slept in literal days! And stop avoiding my question!"

"No!" He has you trapped once again, and you resort to licking his arm.

"Oh my god!"

He muffles his scream into your shoulder, long and frustrated, and then he just... goes limp. He loosens his hold and just lets his full body weight kinda crush the parts of you he's ended up lying on and just... lays there.

This is your chance, you know — to wiggle free and escape and run away from your feelings just like you always have.

But, for some reason, you don't — that scrunched-up thing in your chest holds you back. You stay there, lying beneath Seungkwan on the floor of your living room at one-something in the morning, and the two of you just breathe.

"It's okay, you know," he murmurs after a moment, so quiet you barely hear him over David Attenborough still narrating softly in the background. "If you didn't mean it. It's okay."

Holy shit, I think I'm in love with you.

And you realize how easy it would be to play it off, to blame it on the sleep deprivation, the way you blurted it out like that — to say (to lie) you meant it completely platonically, like the way you propose to Mingyu at least once a month when he cooks you all dinner.

And you also realize, quite shockingly, that despite how a part of you still desperately wants to run away, the larger part of you wants to stay. Doesn't want to run. Doesn't want to lie anymore.

You swallow heavily, briefly close your eyes, and take in a deep breath. "And if I did? Mean it?"

This time, you do notice when Seungkwan goes still. Slowly, he lifts his head so he can look you in the eyes.

When he doesn't say anything, just continues to look at you with an unreadable expression, you try to continue.

"Would you— would that— would it be okay? If I meant it? When I— when I said that I'm in love with you? Is— because um, like you said, it's okay if it's not, and uh—"

Your nervous rambling comes to a stop when he once again cups your face, but it's gentler than before, closer to a caress. The whole time you'd been talking he'd been slowly sitting up, and now he's on his knees next to where you're still lying down on the floor, looking down at you like all the hope in the world is somewhere to be found in your expression.

"Y/n." he says your name like it's something precious, and you feel the absurd urge to burst into tears. "It would be very okay." His thumbs make gentle arcs across your cheeks. "And just to be clear: you mean it in a non-platonic sense, right?” He chews on his lip. “Hopefully, in a very much romantic sense?"

Staring at him staring at you, eyes bright with hope and a little bit of wonder... you can only imagine you must be looking at him the same way. Your chest feels like it's full of helium but also like something warm and gooey is sloshing around in there. And all that hope and wonder and holy shit is this actually happening? is causing your tongue to stick to the roof of your mouth, and all you're able to get past your lips is a breathless, "Hopefully?"

"Oh my god," he groans in frustration, but it's light and airy and makes you think of amusement park rides and fairy lights and how you want to annoy the shit out of this man for the rest of his life, if he'll let you. He's shaking his head, smiling, beaming, and he asks, "Why can you never give me any kind of a straight answer, huh?"

"Because it's my life's purpose to be the bane of your existence until the day we die," you say, reaching up to hold his face too. "Also because I've never done anything straight ever in my life."

And then your body is moving before your brain can think it though, dragging him down until you can press your lips to his and finally, finally know what it's like to kiss Boo Seungkwan.

He makes a little noise of surprise, one that you can feel buzz against your lips before he melts into you. And oh, any thoughts you might have had are forcefully ejected from your brain because all you can focus on are his lips pressed to yours, the way they move slowly, gently, turning this chaste kiss into the most scorching experience of your life. His nose bumps against yours and the heat of his warm breath sends tingles throughout your body, and his hands, fuck, his hands are still holding you gently but also with a firmness that feels like he doesn't want to let you go.

And then he's pulling away, and you whine at him because this may be the cruelest thing he's ever done to you ever in your entire life. "Noooooo, why'd you stop?"

"Because, as much as I'd love to continue to make out with you on your floor while an old British man narrates about life on the Serengeti—” he mercifully ignores the way you choke on your spit at the way he talks about making out with you so nonchalantly "—it's past someone's bedtime."

Your mouth drops open in offended shock. Was he actually going to put you to bed like a child? Like you both hadn't just declared your romantic love for each other? "Are you fucking serious?"

He just stands up and crosses his arms, looking down at you with a single raised eyebrow. You take the part of you that finds it annoyingly attractive and promptly smother it, crossing your own arms from your position on the floor.

"I'm not a baby," you definitely don't pout.

"Hmmm...” And then the bastard fucking pouts at you. “But you're my baby."

You blink at him.

"Welp, that was nice while it lasted,” you grunt, rolling to your feet, “but I suddenly need to relocate to Antarctica and become a penguin herder.”

He pulls you into his arms with a laugh, and you let him, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder.

“You know,” he starts after he's held you for a few moments. “This isn't how I ever imagined how us confessing to each other would go.”

You snort.

“But also,” he continues, “it feels very 'us' doesn't it?”

"Yeah,” you murmur, not bothering to lift your head from his shoulder.

“Mmm, is someone finally sleepy?” he teases, starting to waddle you both towards your bedroom. “Did all the emotions finally wear you out?”

Instead of nodding, you lightly kick him in the shin and the sappy part of your brain that is currently in charge of everything thinks that his indignant squawk is one of your most favorite sounds.

The sappy part of your brain is right, of course, and when you wake up in your bed 15 hours later and accidentally smack him in the face, the urge to run is a little bit smaller than it was before. And the way he flushes bright red after you sleepily kiss him on the cheek is an image you're going to cherish until the day you die.

[chaosduckies]

Congratulations on 100 Followers!!! Big achievement!!!!

Gonna take you up on your open commissions so I’d love to see your take on a tiny being forced to ask a giant for help.

Your choice of characters but I’m a sucker for hurt comfort so go wild ❤️

Congrats again!!!

Thank you! :D

I'm sorry that this took so long to get out! I was having a minor writing slump but I'm back at it! I did have a lot of fun writing this and I hope you do to! (classic borrower asking a human for help)

Word Count: 4.2k

CW: Minor blood

Snow Fall

———Forest———

Everything was going great. I set off on my own, leaving my parents behind and starting my new life. Of course I was scared. Who wouldn’t be when you were two inches tall and leaving everyone you know and love? It was terrifying, but I had to. Borrower children, even though some were some-what good at borrowing from humans, were supposed to leave their parents as soon as they turned fourteen since it was a liability for their parents. I was just lucky and extended my stay for 3 more years. What could I say? I loved my parents just as much as they loved me, and no matter how many times my mom pleaded for me to stay, I knew I wasn’t that good at borrowing. I would eventually get us all in trouble. Which was why I decided to find a new home when I turned seventeen. It didn’t sit right with me that I was still leeching off my parents. 

Humans were scary. The horror stories, the pets, the kids. Almost everything about them scared me half to death. Just thinking about getting caught in one of those huge hands has me shuddering. I couldn’t think about myself getting caught, or what would happen to me, and to be honest, leaving my parents was the worst decision of my life. 

I wasn’t a good borrower to say in the least. I could barely hurdle over the counters without somehow hurting myself or becoming so sore the next day that I could barely move, I wasn’t the best at hiding. I had no idea how my parents did this at such a young age, but I wasn’t like them at all. How did they end up with such a failure like me? I laughed at the thought. 

My new home was nice. The human here had a schedule that I could work around. They left for work every morning, giving me plenty of time to get a little bit of food that they leave out sometimes, get some other things, and head back. They weren’t very observant of anything in particular, perfect for grabbing a few extra paperclips since my hook usually breaks from my own misuse. This house was perfect… or so I thought. 

After a while, the person stopped laying out food everywhere, they had started packing up their things in huge boxes, people in strange uniforms came by and dragged out anything heavy. I had no idea what was going on, but it wasn’t good. I stayed hidden in my home in the walls, scared of what was happening. I was too scared to go out at night and get my daily necessities, like food and water. Humans were terrifying. If I was seen by even one of them, who knows what might happen? I didn’t care if I was so hungry that my stomach was digesting itself, there was no way I was going to get caught and placed in some weird science lab. Testing me everyday, killing me slowly. I shuddered at the thought, wrapping myself in the thin cloth I managed to snag before any of this moving was happening. 

Lately the seasons have been changing, and the human that I thought was still living here hasn’t bothered to turn on the heater. This only made things a million times worse for me. I was already hungry, practically starving from not having eaten anything for the past three days, and now it was freezing cold. There was nothing I could do about it though. I was terrified. Scared. Too paranoid about what would happen if I stepped outside the comforts of my dingy home in the walls. No matter how much I wanted to go back with my parents, I couldn’t. More because I barely even remember the way back home, but also because it was already dangerous enough getting to this new home. I had no choice but to stay here in hopes that I could get over this fear of being seen and that the human had left some kind of food out. But there was no such luck. The house was empty. Furniture moved, heater off, no sign of food in the cabinets. Just nothing. My hope diminished as I sluggishly walked back home in defeat. There was no way I was going to survive. 

The human that I found so easy to maneuver around without being seen, that left food out, was now gone. Who knew when another one would just move back in? Most days I would walk around out in the open because there was nothing to do. I mean, without a human there was no chance of me surviving. I was too afraid to go outside because I knew there were animals that wouldn’t hesitate to mistake me for food. So staying inside was really my only option. Plus, it was just the slightest bit warmer here than outside. 

Sometimes I’d go sit on the windowsill, stay there for hours watching these tiny white balls fall from the sky and cover the ground. People passed by wearing thick coats that protected them from the harsh cold, and I couldn’t help but feel jealous. I looked back at the thin piece of cloth wrapped around me, barely giving any warmth while humans were able to be so warm, get food without having to worry about anyone seeing them (or in my case get food at all), heck, they weren’t even scared of anything. 

I sat alone, in a quiet house just waiting for anything to happen. I didn’t care if it was good or bad. I didn’t know how I was surviving for so long, nor how I was still moving despite searching the top shelves and countertops desperately for something. But of course it was always the same way it was. Empty. Nothing was changing, but in a bad way. 

My legs were sore from the amount of climbing I’ve done the past few days, my body was getting even weaker than it already was. I guess I really was going to starve to death, huh? All of that talking with my parents about making sure I would have enough to last me and it’s just wasted. How was I supposed to know that only a week after I found a new livable home that the human I was just barely getting used to was going to move out? Life wasn’t fair. 

Today was yet another sad, depressing day. I dragged myself along the floor, trying to at least be active while I was struggling to survive. Would another human be coming here soon? As much as they scared me and borrowers alike, most relied on them to help us survive. When they’re clumsy and forget easily, it’s easy to “borrow” a few things here and there. They leave food out or there’s an easy way to get into a cabinet, we can take a few things they wouldn’t notice. It was almost impossible to live without relying on a human in some way. Ironic how the thing I fear the most was the thing that was keeping me alive. 

I hoisted myself up onto the windowsill, breathing heavily as soon as I was safely up. I groaned in pain, wrapping up my hook and sitting by the window, once again staring at the white scenery. Other houses just across that had a slight smoke coming from the top of their house. Must be warm… I rubbed my arms, watching as a few people walked by, possibly on their way to work. I shivered, regretting not taking my “blanket.” 

Life wasn’t fair. I knew that much, but I forced myself to stay alive for whatever reason. My figure was getting slimmer from the lack of food, but I somehow kept moving. It was cold, but I gathered up any cloth I could find and wrapped myself up at night. My hook looked like it could break at any point in time, but it was hanging on just like me. If my hook did break, then there was basically no way for me to get anywhere but home and on the floor. I hoped that something would happen one day, but nothing ever did. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught something gray scurry along the floor. I stared for a couple long seconds before shrugging it off and continuing to look out the window. It was probably just my imagination. Great, now I’m hallucinating. I sighed, watching as cars carefully passed by. 

I don’t know how long I stayed on top of the windowsill, but eventually there was a change of scenery. At first I thought it was just my mind playing tricks on me, but there it was. A car parked right in front of the house, headlights turning off and revealing a human, zipping up their jacket and looking down at something and back at the front of the house. I was too caught up in my fascination to realize that I was out in the open. The human slowly started making their way up to the front door, holding something that looked silver in their hands. 

I scrambled for my hook, climbing down as fast as I could, which was very painful. At some point I lost my grip and fell, but to my luck it was only a couple feet. I hurried to my feet, pulling my hook from the ledge it was dangling from and ran as fast as I could to reach the extremely tiny hole I squeezed myself through. I took a few seconds to catch my breath before the front door opened. My eyes were wide, my heart pounding fast. Would my luck finally be turning around? 

The human was taller than the last and looked much younger. I couldn’t really get a good look at their face, but I could make out his dirty-blonde hair. I could hear my own heartbeat. Is everything going to go back to normal? Would I be able to survive on my own again? 

The human moved around the place, shivering and pressing some buttons on something. Soon enough, the house was slowly but surely being warmed up. I let out a quiet sigh of relief. It might not be much… but at least it was something. Better than the frigid cold that had been filling the house for who knows how long. 

They moved around the house, checking everything out and smiling, their eyes a nice shade of light-brown. They looked… so nice. For a split second my mind wondered what would happen if he would ever see me. Would he keep me as a pet like I’m pretty sure most humans would? Or… nothing? No, why would I even be thinking about that? He would obviously want to hurt me even more than I already was. 

My stomach rumbled quietly, I winced, but confused to watch as they came from outside and back in, carrying a few boxes, bags and a small case that had wheels on it. Was I finally… saved? If this human was moving back in then I could actually have a chance to survive? I silently cheered to myself. How long has it been? Almost a week maybe? How did I even manage to stay alive? Didn’t matter anymore I guess. 

I continued to watch the human, putting up things in the boxes, setting up a few mini tables and placing picture frames of him and, who I was guessing, his parents. Of course occasionally taking breaks for a snack or two, leaving a plastic container filled with what looked like fresh fruit and vegetables. After most of the boxes were unpacked, a few still in their bedroom, he went back outside, most likely to fetch something else from his car. He usually took a while out there… so maybe it would be enough time to go and quickly grab something to eat? No, that was too risky. What if I was wrong and he came back early? I doubt I’d have enough time to find a hiding spot while out in the open since he didn’t exactly have any furniture or anything. 

I slumped, making my way back to my bland home in the walls. I had always tried to decorate… but since there hadn’t been anyone living here for me to “borrow” a few things from, I haven’t been able to decorate. Only the small bed I made by gathering up a bunch of cloth that the human before had forgotten about. It wasn’t extremely comfy, but better than anything I could’ve asked for. Otherwise, boring room. But it’s not like I need to decorate it anyways. Surviving was my main focus right now, and now that there was someone actually living here now… maybe I’d have a chance to get back into things. 

The wait was long, hearing the human talk to someone on what I think they call a phone, hang up, set up their house again and spend most of their time gathering up all of the blankets and pillows that he had brought with him and gathering them all up in what I think was going to be his room. As comfy as it looked, I knew I couldn’t just take a couple of minutes to get somewhat comfortable. Lately every night has been spent cold, hungry, filled with false hope. If I could just take a couple minutes to have some kind of sense of safety and security, that would be great. But I haven’t been able to, and I doubt that I’d be able to even now. I never realized just how hard it is to survive. Imagine what my parents went through while taking care of me… 

I hugged my blanket close, my eyelids threatening to close at any second. I heard the sound of the door open once again, and the loud sounds of him dragging something across the floor. It was all fine for me though. My eyes shut close, I laid down, and soon enough my mind drifted off. 

——————

When my eyes opened, there was a quiet noise of people talking outside. My heart had skipped a beat, thinking that there were more humans living here. That would make it impossible for someone like me to get past without being noticed, but as I groggily stepped outside, rubbing my eyes to wipe away the sleep, I realized that it was only the tv that wasn’t there a couple hours ago. 

I looked around the dark room, seeing that there was now a singular couch in what was the living room, a tv, a table that held two more frames. How long had I been sleeping? Or better yet, just how exhausted was I? Obviously the sun had already set, so I guess it didn’t really matter. I headed back to my room, grabbed my hook, and took off, every now and then finding a hiding spot just in case the human was somewhere I couldn’t see him. 

My head turned towards a dark shadow scamper right across from me, but I didn’t pay any mind. Probably just my imagination, right? Right now I was just trying to make sure that the human was asleep right now just before I go and see if he had any food out… or at least something edible in the cabinets. 

I checked the living room first, hiding by one of the legs under the couch, peaking my head out just enough to see him having trouble keeping his eyes open. Good enough for me. I ran quietly back to the kitchen, throwing my hook as far up as I could before testing if it was safely secure. I started my trek up, my arms and legs begging in me to go back down. Despite my arms threatening to tear off from the lack of strength. I really wasn’t good at borrowing. 

As soon as I reached the top of the counter, I took a few seconds to catch my breath. Once I get used to the human’s schedule I may finally be able to get back into things. No going hungry for that long, not worrying if I’ll make it to the end of the night. as soon as he turns on the heater things would be even better… I wouldn’t be shivering at night and struggle to find something that would act as a blanket. Yet another reason to be jewels of humans. They had everything borrowers didn’t. It wasn’t at all fair, but we all knew what would happen if a human found or saw us. The thought was pure torture to even think about. Literally. 

On the counter, there really wasn’t anything for me to see except for the half-eaten sandwich just lying on the counter. I silently walked over, not really wanting to eat part of the sandwich that they had already bitten into but I had to unless I wanted him to already be suspicious when it hasn’t even been a full day. 

I started cutting off pieces, making them fit inside my bag and taking a few more unnoticeable pieces for tomorrow, learning from past mistakes. As I was cutting, I realized that there was something off. The tv was still on in the other room, I figured that the human still hadn’t left the couch either, fighting off sleep. So why did it feel so off? I treaded carefully, watching every tiny movement that caught my eye. For a moment it was so quiet that I could hear my own heart pounding in my chest, and then too quiet. 

My eyes searched around, taking my final piece into my hands since no more would fit in my bag. I might as well grab as much as I could. Better than having nothing. I let out a sigh of relief, grateful that I wasn’t dead, that I’d at least have some kind of way to survive. Out of curiosity, I took a small bite out of the sandwich, only really getting the bread part but it tasted so good. To be honest, a sandwich was a definite score for borrowers, now when you’ve been starving for days on end, it tastes amazing. 

Two glasses hit each other behind me, I turned my head seeing them spin before returning to their still pose. My eyes widened, hurrying to my hook that was still hanging off the edge of the counter. I looked back, the light making it easier to see a rat chase me down, easily twice my size. I let out a yelp as I ran through several spice glasses in hopes of losing it, only to hear them all fall onto the counter with a loud thud! That was bad for two reasons, one because not only was it making a mess and trails that I’ve been here, and two, because I knew the human would want to come and investigate what was happening. Of course being the person that I am, I would never be able to run faster than this  surprisingly malicious rat. 

I struggled to keep up my balance, eventually tripping on thin air, dropping the small piece of sandwich a few feet away from me. I quickly rolled over, my chest heaving up and down as I faced the rat not even given a second before they scratched at my shirt. I winced, holding my stomach and seeing my hand covered in some blood. My breathing was getting more heavy as I saw a silhouette by the kitchen entrance. The lights turned on, blinding the rat for just a second as I quickly stood up and kept running towards my hook, holding my stomach. I knew what was happening, and there was no way I would be found the second a new human moves in, right? I blinked back the tears building up in my eyes, tripping once again. My vision was blurry from the tears, and judging by the small squeaks from the rat I thought was a good couple feet away, that meant that the human was here. 

Forcing myself to sit up, I looked at the bowl that kept moving. The rat screeching to be released from their prison. The human placed some heavy books on top, sighing to himself as he muttered something under his breath I couldn’t catch, but I didn’t really care. I scrambled back onto my feet, trying to run yet again and slammed into something soft and squishy. I winced as I fell and soon my entire world was moving again, the soft surface now everywhere. 

It settled in my mind slowly, realizing that I was in human hands. It hurt to breathe from my new wound, but I couldn’t help it. Tears streamed down my face as I struggled to muffle the sounds of my quiet cries. 

“Oh! U-um, I didn’t mean to…” Their voice sounded quiet and worried. I just continued crying, not even caring what would happen to me. Who was I kidding? I could never have survived on my own! I should’ve known when that first human moved out. Sure it was okay at first, but obviously them moving was a sign that I wasn’t meant to be on my own. I should’ve listened to my parents and stayed with them. This would’ve never happened, I would be alive and healthy instead of on the brink of death and in Death’s hands himself. Literally. Who knows what this human would do to me? It was scary to think about. 

“P-Please don’t h-hurt me.” I mumbled most likely too quiet for his ears to hear, leaning against what I think was his thumb. He flinched slightly, but why did it feel so… comfortable? 

“Aw little guy,” He smiled softly, “I’m not going to hurt you, okay?” I leaned into the warmth from his hands, hugging what was his thumb closely, still crying to myself. What else was I supposed to do? Of course I was scared but… I also just wanted someone to hold me. Right now I didn’t care that it was a human and I’d face my consequences later, I just wanted to be promised that I wouldn’t have to try so hard anymore. That I could just live without thinking about what I could manage to get for dinner. 

“You were just… hungry?” He asked as I picked my head up, seeing him looking straight at the piece I had dropped on the counter. I shakily nodded my head, hoping he would see. For now, I would just hide my fear. Right now this human was giving me everything I’ve wanted this past week. Comfort, warmth. Heck, I’m even crying in front of him. How embarrassing was that and he still hasn’t said or asked me anything. 

“Hm, here little guy.” He tried tilting me back onto the counter, but I grabbed onto his sleeve and hung on tighter. I didn’t want to be let go already. I know humans are bad and I’d face the consequences eventually, but right now I’d like to think that not all of them were as horrifying as the stories make them out to be. 

He softly laughed, cupping both hands around me again. I sniffled, “C-could you… h-help me? P-please.” I tried wiping away my tears, but they just kept coming. My eyes felt red and puffy, my legs felt like jello, heart racing. I was a mixture of emotions. Terrified, filled with hope, and most of all grateful that this human hadn’t decided to hurt me yet. 

The human studied me, worried. I stood still for a moment, hoping I would get my answer. It seemed ridiculous to be asking a human this. One that probably had no idea that they had saved me in the first place. My heart thumped in my chest, waiting in the eerie silence, awaiting my answer. My stomach still burnt from the deep gash, but I've had to go through worse. There was still some blood that was getting on the humans’ shirt sleeve, but that was the least of my worries. 

I felt something rub against my back, making me flinch, but lean into the gentle touch. Some part of me knew that this was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. I was sitting in a humans’ hand, talking to one, being seen by one. And for some reason, it all felt right. Everything felt right. That this was meant to happen. That it was alright for me to be vulnerable to this human. 

They started moving their hand as I continued to cry, pressing my face into the fabric of his shirt. When I opened my eyes, I found myself in a makeshift hug. I could hear his heartbeat in the background beating rhythmically, the slight rise and fall of his chest with every slow breath he took. I sniffled, shocked from the gesture but otherwise grateful. I wasn’t going to die. I was alive. I felt safe. There was no more suffering, no more false hope, no more anything. I would be fine. I smiled to myself, trying to wipe away the tears trailing down my face. 

I guess sometimes it’s okay to ask for help. 

——————

I hope you enjoyed! I don't know how to feel about this myself, but I think it's alright! Again, I had a lot of fun writing and thank you for the prompt!

Slowly getting out of my writing slump, hopefully get these prompts done plus something reallyyyy exciting (well at least it is to me)

Thank you for reading! :D

Taglist: @da3dm

[kayrrhin]

hello!

i saw your commissions were opened after a fic i read, idk if you write for multiple characters but i’d like to request for robin, law, cora, yamato, and ace, with no peculiar pronouns for the reader, it can be fluff or nsfw, as you feel more comfortable with!

feel free to add more or not write for some ofc, no pressure it’s totally understandable, don’t overdo yourself, please and thanks!

I'm going to be honest, you made a commission which literally features all of my all time favorite babies so let's goooo, i also assumed it was all separated since there were no specification, good reading!

3am baking

characters: Robin, Law, Corazon, Yamato, Ace

fluff, use of pet names, ft. teenager law in Cora's part

Reader's gender is not referred so it can be any gender

Warnings: use of swear words, a bit suggestive at Law's part, french

Robin:

"wow, so far it looks good!"

You looked at the cupcakes you and your girlfriend were making, so far there was only the dough but wow it looked good.

"I'm amazed that we're able to make such good cupcakes at this time of day, at least so far the dough is good!"

You grin at the archeologist and wipe some of the flour off her nose.

"Thanks, love."

You smiled and began to put the dough into the moulds, putting them in the oven.

"Now all we have to do is wait!"

Robin put her arms around you from behind and kissed your temple,

"I just hope Sanji doesn't take this the wrong way"

You chuckled a little

"The only thing Sanji might do is cry because we made it ourselves and he didn't cook it for us, or be amazed because it's going to be super good!"

You kissed her cheek and smiled proudly.

"haha, I guess you're right, I have to say though, what a strange urge to want to cook at such an hour, darling"

"Yes, I know, but at least we'll have snacks to read"

She smiles sweetly and kisses you, her soft lips resting on yours.

"Actually, I just hope they're still good tomorrow"

You looked up in a thinking manner for a bit,

"aaah you're right...it's probably going to be a little drier depending on how it goes..."

Your lover chuckled and kissed you.

"Don't worry too much, with a bit of tea it's going to be great, love"

After a little while you finished the cupcakes and boy were they good, as was the sleep you got afterwards.

Law

"You're messing up your sleep schedule right now."

Your boyfriend said, watching you make cookie dough,

"Oh, you're one to talk! At least it's not to overwork myself but to make cookies!"

You smile and continue to work on your work of art, but you feel someone approaching you.

"Let me help you at least, it might be fun... I guess."

He seemed a little embarrassed but helped you with the cookies anyway,

"Aaaw, thanks, love!"

You smiled at him and continued to bake, when the dough was separated, the surgeon put them in the oven, setting the temperature correctly.

"Can you put a timer on please?"

"Yep, I got it!"

You set the timer and start waiting, Law lifts you up to sit on the counter and kisses you on the forehead.

"I'll never understand how you can cook for ten people in the middle of the night"

He then kisses your jaw and puts his hands on your waist,

"I'll say it's my will to eat that gives me this strength, or a mental breakdown"

He chuckled and kissed your lips, slowly moving down to your neck, kissing it and leaving a few marks here and there, he started to get a little more impatient only for the timer to remind you both that the cookies were still in the oven,

"Yes! My cookies!"

You got off the counter, took out the cookies and turned off the oven.

"wooow, these look dashing!"

"Yes. They are."

You laugh, seeing your boyfriend a little frustrated by the sudden stop,

"Come on, sweetheart, we can continue where we left off for a few minutes, the cookies still need to cool."

"I don't know if I love you or hate you, [Name]-ya"

Corazon

"I'm surprised we made it this far without burning the kitchen down!"

You've finished putting your mixture on the plate to put what will soon be brownies in the oven,

"Me too, you've really taken the easiest thing to do"

Your lover wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to his giant body.

"Yeah, I figured at 3am, burning the house down wasn't the best way to make something"

You laugh, nuzzling your face into his chest, him, resting his head on top of yours.

"You're right, I'm not sure Law would like us to set the house on fire."

He pulled his face closer to yours and kissed the tip of your nose, then your temple, and lips.

"He'd probably kick our asses if we did, I wonder who the real adults are"

You both laughed and stayed like that for a little while, to be fair the reason he hadn't set the kitchen on fire was because you were making sure he wasn't near anything that could catch fire, mainly his coat which was left in the living room for that specific reason.

"I think the brownies are good, let me turn off the stove"

You did so and smelled the brownies,

"wow, that smells really good, mi vida, we did a great job!"

He kissed you on the cheek and stumbled, causing you to lose your balance.

"OH FUCK—"

You looked at the brownies that were about to fall out, but they were replaced by a pillow.

"hah?"

"Can you be careful??? First I wake up because you can't keep it down, when I get up you're immediately about to injure yourself, and you're the adults here?"

"Right! Sorry we woke you up..."

"and thanks for saving us from a third degree burn!"

The teenager looked at you both and sighed.

" It's okay, plus it smells good, it would be sad to let it go to waste"

You look at your partner and both laughed

"Well, I guess it couldn't have gone without at least one little mistake"

Yamato

"Woooh! [Name], look, it's growing!"

You giggled at your golden retriever boyfriend who was looking at the gateau au yaourt in the stove.

"Yeah, that's the baking powder, baby"

Your boyfriend looked at you in awe, it was the first time in a long time he'd cooked in a real kitchen, so when you said you wanted to make a cake at 2:56am, he looked at you and instantly got up, already jumping towards the kitchen.

"This is so cool! And it smells so good too! My love, you are so good at baking! You are a god/goddess!"

Your boyfriend lifted you up in his arms, you laughed at his gesture.

" Pretty boy, I think you're over-reacting, I only have basic cooking skill"

He laughed and peppered your face with kisses, which made you giggle.

"Love, can you put me down? I need to turn off the oven"

"Oh yes, sorry!"

He puts you down and lets you reach the oven, you turn it off and take out the chocolate cake, the smell of the cake reaches your nostrils, but you smell something else, like vanilla.

"Wow, that smells good, you know why it smells like va...ni...la?", Finishing your sentence, you turn your head to notice the empty bottle of vanilla extract on the counter.

"Um... it smelled good, and like vanilla so..."

"Please tell me the bottle wasn't full."

You prayed for a second, imagining that the strong taste of vanilla was too much for your taste buds and mentally cried, but your boyfriend assured you that the bottle was almost empty when he did so.

"Ok, time to try it then, I really hope you're not lying because it smells like vanilla hell right now".

You took a bite and ate it, it was indeed very good and the vanilla taste wasn't overwhelming, which reassured your taste buds, you kissed your lover and took the cake to bring it in your room.

"Ah! I told you I didn't put it all in!"

Your boyfriend exclaimed, proud that he had not made a dumb mistake (for once).

"Yes, you did! I think it's time to eat it while reading about Oden, don't you think, big guy?"

"YES!"

Ace

"oui, oui, baguette ! Quoisan !"

Your boyfriend laughed as he helped you prepare the croissants.

"Ace, shut the fuck up, it's 3am if Tatch hears us, we're dead"

The last time Tatch caught you, you were punished by cleaning the bathroom for 3 months, but you both had a sudden urge to cook after a long make out session.

"Come on, this time we're doing a good job and the ingredients were paid by us, this time if he catches us he won't have anything to blame us for"

He smiles as he rolls the dough into a croissant shape.

"You're right but still, I'm not sure having two dumbasses in your kitchen at 3am is the best way to wake up, even if you just want a glass of water."

the freckled boy finished making the shape and placed a napkin on the plate to let it sit and walked over to you and threw his arms around your waist.

"But I like to cook at night with my dumbass and my dumber self"

He chuckled and kissed your cheek.

"Pff, you're so cheesy, what's happening to you so suddenly, love? A second ago you were speaking broken French if I remember correctly."

You look at him, amused by his sudden display of affection.

"Hey, it's not my fault that my heart races when I see you."

"Oh, you're in your flirty state again, finish the croissant, idiot, and kiss me afterwards."

You both chuckled and he put his lips to yours, he was so goofy, my Lord.

"You two again???"

"Fuck, Tatch, wait, we can explain!"

[audliminal]

It's Just a Game, Right? Pt 3 Redux

Masterpost

"It's a pun." Tim announces, the second he steps into Bernard’s apartment. He waves a folder at his boyfriend, moving to spread it’s contents out on his table.

“What’s a pun?” Bernard asks as he leans over to look at the annotated sheet music Tim has produced.

“The random notes are discordant because they’re off-key. And the off-key­ notes are the key to the Caesar Ciphers.”

“Oh,” Bernard says, leaning in closer to read one of the notes. The person Tim had hired had done an exceptional job; they were a bit bemused by the request, but once they’d gotten started they’d managed to transcribe a clean copy of Space Oddity, and then they’d not just identified the incorrect notes, but explained why they were wrong. Tim wasn’t sure all the information would be necessary for the puzzle, but it had been interesting nonetheless.

“Also I made a mistake the other day,” Tim says. “I’d assumed that the key to the ciphers wasn’t in the scale, because a scale has seven notes, but actually it has twelve.”

“Wait, what?”

“The chromatic scale; the complete set of possible notes in nearly all western music,” Tim clarifies. “Not the eight notes that make up a standard key, but the twelve that encompass every note available in a single octave. Apparently it’s not always twelve, though. The number of pitch classes can range a lot, though most stay below twenty in number. The Gamma scale, interestingly, was invented for the 1986 Beauty and the Beast film, in order to create near perfect triads. I couldn’t really tell the difference, but the sample notes sounded… interesting.”

Bernard, who had torn his head away from the musical score, stares at him for a long moment, before he starts to grin.

“You went on a Wikipedia dive.”

“I did. It was very interesting and also, very much not my field of expertise. Also, most of what I read doesn’t relate to your game.”

“That would be crazy if it did,” Bernard says.

“The point being, that some of the discordant notes correspond with the shifting of the images. Whichever incorrect note is closest in measure to the moment the image changes, is the key to that individual cipher, with how much it’s been shifted up or down.”

"Damn, okay." Bernard looks back down at the sheet music, then straightens. “A pun, huh? Good to know they have a sense of humor.”

“Puns are quite literally a play on double-meanings so they’ll probably pop up elsewhere. In my experience they’re pretty useful in puzzle and riddle design.”

“Huh.” Bernard tilts his head considering the new information. “I wonder if the Riddler uses many puns...”

"All the time, actually."

"Dude, why do you just know that?" Tim freezes, remembering too late that most people don't have access to dossiers on every rogue. "No, never mind I know you're like, weirdly knowledgeable about the bats and the rogues; I shouldn't be surprised."

"Well, maybe everyone should pay a little more attention to rogues’ MOs," Tim says pointedly. "They are generally considered to be the most serious safety threat in Gotham, after all.

"I mean, I know generally what their deals are, I just don't go all Genius-Mode about it." Bernard laughs, then gets a thoughtful look on his face. Oh no, Tim thinks. "Hey, maybe the bats should, like, commission your help to deal with the Riddler. I'd bet you'd work through his weird puzzles in like, ten minutes!"

"I feel like they're doing fine as is."

"Yeah, I guess, but like. What if they could do it even faster, right?"

"Maybe." Tim fiddles with his pen. "Do you want to know what else I found?"

“Yes, please.”

"I noticed that the length of time for each photo was different each time. I thought it might be a choice based on the music, since they always shift in time with a note, but there wasn't any logical pattern I could find there."

"I mean, that doesn't seem like a dead-end, that just sounds like we're missing something."

"Exactly. So I made a list of the duration between each incorrect note, and I ran that through a code checker, and it turned out to be encoded in base 26." Tim sets down the next page in his folder and points to the corresponding list of numbers, and then below it, to where he's written out the translation. With any luck, Bernard will focus on the transcription, and won’t ask what code checker Tim used.

"Dude." Bernard says, eyes wide as he stares at the page. “That’s ominous as fuck.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Tim says. When he’d gotten the translation back, he’d felt his blood go cold. He’d practically much fled the Batcave, as soon as he had the software properly closed.

"This is so cool!" Bernard exclaims grabbing at Tim's shoulders and shaking him lightly, accidentally pulling his attention back into the moment. "How have I not dragged you into solving ARGs before this? You're actually so good at it! Just wait till I tell everyone on the forum!"

Tim blinks, Bernard's sudden excitement is a jarring juxtaposition against the words on the page; completely unlike the dread and adrenaline that starts to kick up in Tim’s stomach when he thinks about it. But he can’t blame his boyfriend; this whole thing is just a game. And the people that wrote this, that made these videos, that encoded these messages – the real people, are having fun. He should be too.

Tim takes a deep breath and does his best to match Bernard's excitement. But the words on the page keep staring back at him.

help us please help us

[sankatsuka]

Backlit Lens Flare and CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY Discussion - Reigniting The Passion Lost to Peer Pressure

Everyone wants to have a place to belong, where the hard work we pour into the things we love will be seen and appreciated by people. But what happens when you decide you will never find this place and resign yourself to a life of solitude, only to be proven wrong by a group of people who insist on your wholehearted hard work? And it only later dawns on you that you will someday have to part ways and you will lose the miraculous place you finally found.

This is what I like to think Rui Kamishiro encapsulates - the battle between being yourself and wanting a place to belong. How easy it is to get swayed from what you love when you think you've found this place and start to subconsciously dedicate your passion to this place instead, to the point that if you're not aware enough, you can forget the feelings in your original passion (resulting in the hesitation and doubt in Curtain Call). After all, nobody is the same, and if you focus too much of your passion on them, that passion becomes about them and not yourself. Ultimately, it is how not acknowledging a healthy boundary with people who are different from you can affect your passion (Shiho as a character is very integral to this).

Warnings:

I believe the entire WxS plot is meant to be misdirection.

Personal interpretation of Rui and several characters by inferring from text.

I believe Rui is a flawed person with no bad intentions, so there will be criticism of his character here. I really suggest turning away if it upsets you.

Spoilers for all WxS unit stories up till Backlit Lens Flare (as well as for Saki, Shiho, Akito, Mafuyu and Mizuki's characters up to their most recent stories)

Edit (11/2/2024): Made multiple edits as always, but biggest change is talking more about the foils in CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY and Kitty's message. Edit (12/2/2024): Compulsory mention of Rui's mom and how he was set up for failure from way back then. Edit (12/2/2024): Expansion on the parallels between Rui and Mafuyu - what it is that makes them the CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY and Jackpot Sad Girl. And a summary on how three commission parallels supports this interpretation of CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY about Rui's characters. Edit (13/2/2024): Lets add a bit more about how Resonate with You criticizes Rui's actions in Curtain Call. AND MANJI ALSO BEING A SLANG MEANING EXCITEMENT, STILL APPLIES TO TSUKASA IDC!!

Rui's character in the story starts off as someone who has thrown the part of himself who wants to have fun making things with people after being repeatedly let down by them. The early times with Wonderlands x Showtime helped him remember that desire from childhood to find a place that accepts that desire, that he criticizes Tsukasa for not appreciating WxS - for not realizing the best shows can't be accomplished without friends.

"--The best shows can't be done alone."

Following the fallout, Tsukasa and WxS' continued insistence and appreciation of him makes him start to see them as a place he can finally belong to. The place he's searched for for so long since childhood. That when he saw Tsukasa get hurt, he became swayed from doing the things he wanted to do for the first time and he hadn't even noticed it - because Tsukasa might leave him like his classmates had, so he has to hold back so as to not disappoint him further. This resulted in Tsukasa and Ruis second argument, with Tsukasa being angry at Rui for lying and holding back - which I later argue is the exact same feelings in his FUZAKERUNA in CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY.

"This is surprising. I didn't think I'd ever feel this way." "Being afraid of losing your place, and then being unable to face the actors who seriously respond to you - this is a failing as a director."

However, this entire ordeal ended in Rui acknowledging his weakness, putting the whole deal behind them and moving on with the show, as KAITO advised. (Spoiler: it isn't weird at all to say that this happens again, with how he deals with it so indifferently like this.)

And then in Curtain Call, he becomes painfully aware that everyone may leave someday for their dreams--

"Someday, the day we will have to depart will come... For both me, and everyone."

Doesn't this just seem like a repeat of Halloween in a different way? He's scared they'll all leave him alone. One can say that Curtain Call ignited the exact same fear of being left alone and losing your place that Rui felt in Halloween - and his reaction feels exactly the same too: acknowledge it, put it behind you and move on to doing what is best for the best shows. After all, Rui lives for the best shows, because it is what makes him most happy - albeit Backlit Lens Flare suggests how he doesn't actually fully remember the joy and passion for shows he had as a child (discussed later). The best way to put it is - Rui feels like a walking corpse of his childhood.

Normally, when you realize this possibility of parting in the future, you talk to your friends about this (see: Saki Focus 3, Get Over It). But Rui refrains from talking to the people he should be talking to (WxS) and proceeds to go for the most obvious decision for his dream by joining Arklands. Only after Asahi turns him away does he go for the next obvious option he sees - the reckless decision that he would do everything in his power to achieve everyone's dreams together. And he can so confidently chase it because he's smart, only to be put down in Backlit Lens Flare lol.

Rui has really just been powering his way through the things he finds unpleasant, as KAITO had told him to in Halloween, ignoring the bad parts and doing everything for the sake for the best shows. You can really, really argue that KAITO's advice in Halloween seems very, very morally ambiguous now lol. He doesn't think ahead of what is the best choice and what would make him happiest - it's as if he's avoiding the very line of thought of how he would do post-WxS. Compared to Shiho in Focus 1, 'Resonate With You', who shows how she has thought it through and is happy enough just spending time with Leo/need for leisure - Rui doesn't even reach this line of thought of what happens next.

I think that he avoids thinking properly about these stuff because he wouldn't have a proper answer to it. Can he really trust Asahi when many other people have disappointed him after showing some interest before this? On the other hand, he's argued with Tsukasa twice and everyone is still enthusiastic - WxS is the only place he's ever felt secure.

"There were a few people who saw my ideas and said, 'it would be interesting if we could do it'." "But even those people gradually became reluctant with the more new ideas I brought to them."

It may generally be underestimated in the story just how much Rui doesn't inherently trust people and actors.

Even CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY begins with 'Nobody's listening anyway. Music's all just fashion, players leaving the field after devouring dead sounds one night.' which can be interpreted as people who became reluctant after they spent too long around Rui as he says to KAITO above, innit.

And then, Backlit Lens Flare happens and Rui encounters ??? (Sakaki). Sakaki immediately identifies the problem with Bakuno's acting, pinpointing it to the directors instead of the actor. Rui was not able to.

Remember, the freelance option isn't permanent - there's the possibility someone may be recruited away (It's a story for another day that he is only really worried about Tsukasa instead of the whole WxS but doesn't realize this). Rui paying attention to their growths first of all before his own is testament to how he's trying to make sure they quickly grow so they can achieve their dreams together:

"...It seems it became good stimulation for both of them right away." "...I also need to more proactively study from this opportunity."

So even now, Rui is more worried about WxS over himself. He prioritizes making sure they are getting something out of the freelancing gig over himself. Only after watching them was he stimulated to do his best too - and here comes the question, where did his drive to be proactive for his own passion go to?

Sakaki's ingenuity finally pops this question to Rui's mind. Had Rui's brain not been filled with the worry of losing his place, he may have been able to think more clearly and just as quickly reach the same conclusion as Sakaki. If he had been filled with thoughts of what was satisfying for himself instead of how he could stay with everyone, he may have been able to create a much better film (see: Shiho Focus 3, Stick to Your Faith). In fact, why is he even so bothered about falling behind Sakaki, when Rui isn't even an adult or a professional director himself?

It's not normal to be bothered about that: Nene was never hard on herself for not being as good as Kazamatsuri, because it's a given she's far away. But she does get upset with herself when she realizes she had looked down on Sakurako and naively seen her as an equal. You only react that way with people you see as equals if you're secure.

Perhaps, the passionate person Rui used to be would have admired Sakaki and want to learn from him out of a pure love for shows instead. And not be so bothered about how he was falling behind professionals.

We see Rui fail twice in the story: not figuring out the problem with the scene, and not thinking ahead of personalizing the script like Ohara had. (There is a third time too: how Tsukasa and WxS seem so moved by Bakuno's performance that Rui played no part in - meaning there are others who could easily replace him - if the emotions in this discussion hold true). And it's no wonder it would have him start questioning and blaming his obsession with WxS for it - if he had not been preoccupied with them, he may have avoided his failures altogether, and even if he did, he wouldn't have been this upset.

It's like a hit to his ego. Is how he's acting and behaving really the same boy who loved shows and would do anything for a show that would satisfy him?

Right now, it's as if Rui is trying hard to protect his position as a talented genius that surpasses everyone so WxS will need him for their dreams and want him around. No one can replace him; only he can achieve their dreams for them.

But Sakaki and Ohara prove him wrong.

The closing lines of Backlit Lens Flare, where he focuses on his own feelings towards directing instead of anything WxS learned, implies this self-realization of how he had been behaving. Rui is finally focused on himself.

"I'm disappointed that I didnt come up with this method, but strangely enough, I feel refreshed." "Directing... really is interesting."

FIRST UP. WHY DID YOU NEED TO COME UP WITH THE METHOD. SECONDLY, WHY ARE YOU REFRESHED. It makes sense to me as someone who's been carried away a lot: when you realize you lost sight of your original intentions and began worrying more about so many unnecessary things, you feel bitter at your mistake but relieved and refreshed you've finally been woken up.

To me, all of these feel like they're pointing to Rui being afraid of losing his place in WxS. So he has to be capable of solving everything, achieving everyone's dreams, so they will need him for it and they can keep staying this way. Before this, it seemed like a normal human emotion he had just never experienced before, but now, it's starting to show it's actually detrimenting his passion.

This is what I believe the theme of trends are playing into in CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY - doing anything you can to make sure there will be people to hear and appreciate your music, and the spite in realizing you've lost yourself in that pursuit. Money is the artificial love you receive by catering to people so they would stay and listen to you. It's heartless, but following his character, it seems the crowd he's referring to is WxS. Because they have their strong individualistic dreams and just won't simply stay with him as he wants them to, he has to keep worrying about keeping up with them (Tsukasa mainly):

But still, here, there, everywhere, loners, manji, Gen Z, even monkeys want it.

Loners=Rui Manji (a sign of good things to come)=Tsukasa (being surrounded by good luck charms; kanji 天 being associated with heaven; inviting Rui to WxS) (edit: manji is also a slang for excitement, which Tsukasa literally is for Rui) Gen Z=Nene (digital age, playing video games) Monkey=Emu (in Rui's picnic card and Emu in Sky's Edge)

(In NY2, Emu ended up drawing tons of big luck omikuji, and Tsukasa is surrounded by monkeys in Island Panic - so you can suggest their roles are reversed. But the robot monkey Tsukasa in picnic suggests Tsukasa isn't a real monkey.)

Curtain Call and Backlit Lens Flare together show how not addressing and expressing fears properly and simply moving on changes nothing. Self-awareness and powering through is useless advice - anyone who's had troubles with lovers, friends and family know you need to talk and accomodate each other. Or not, is it even feeling loved and cared anymore, isn't it just about control then?

In Resonate with You, Shiho makes Leo/need think through their choice to join her into becoming a professional, rather than accepting them right off the bat. She knows from her prior experience working with people that half-hearted musicians would only fail, suffer and drop out. It is only by Leo/need wholeheartedly declaring their intentions of facing music sincerely and seriously that Shiho is convinced that they can all do it together for sure. This is such a contrast to Rui in Curtain Call where he decides on his own that he will find a way for WxS to achieve their dream together, while barely thinking at all. And he winds up focusing so much on making sure WxS stays together. You need to think it through, face the future seriously and talk properly. NOT JUST LEAVE IT THERE!!

Or else you'll lose sight of your original motivation from focusing too much on things that don't really matter as much to you: you'll just end up half-hearted.

Further proof that Backlit Lens Flare is Rui's realization of his half-heartedness since Curtain Call, is that Tsukasa gets angry at him in CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY like he does in Halloween. It isn't even a desperate shout to save someone - it's like a look of pure judgmental disappointment, as if they've been through this already. Stop lying.

He already shouted in anger in Halloween. If that didn't reach Rui, then there was no point in being all angry anymore.

Rui was repeating Halloween, trying so hard to protect the place he belongs to and forgot what he himself truly wants. From there, the lyrics in the entire CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY are self-explanatory: what happened to the things you wanted to sing? (I was so happy with the lyrics because it was exactly what I was thinking in Curtain Call but no one seemed to care).

One thing you can never take away from Rui is that he is a very, very passionate guy. He loves what he does that he would spend every waking hour of his day working on it. Even if he's become a shell of his former self, his body is still naturally drawn to shows (Samsa Kanade reference heh). And Rui himself believes himself to be purely passionate too. So when he realizes that passion has been thoroughly dirtied, it makes sense he's as angry as he is in CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY.

In Anni 2, Rui says he didn't know what he wanted to do like Mafuyu, but then he corrects himself to say he THOUGHT he knew.

"Actually, in the past, I didn't know what I wanted to do." "No... I should say that I thought I knew, but I actually didn't know at all."

For a brief moment, Rui thought he was just like Mafuyu with nothing to call his own. Until he quickly remembers that he did indeed have something he wanted to do, but claims to have been mistaken.

Why did you briefly relate to a girl who felt like she had nothing she wanted to do like everyone else, if that isn't a sign of his current state of mind - feeling like he has no dreams like WxS, and having to keep up with them so that he can feel like he belongs (discussed later in the parallels with Cinema). His lost passion became more evident at this point of the story.

If you 'thought you knew', then that means it was once a genuine feeling too. Even if you're alone, doing what you love is still fun - Shiho in her Focus 3, 'That Day, The Sky Was Far Away' demonstrates this. Although she had been let down by the bandmates, she was still fine alone because music made her feel better. And she even inspired Mihane because of her enthusiasm. After all, what you love to do should make you happy to some extent.

In comparison, Rui seems to have forgotten that shows were actually fun in middle school (probably because Stick to Your Faith never happened for him). When he approached Mizuki, he was standoffish and didn't think to introduce Mizuki to the fun of shows even when they expressed some interest in it. Probably because he couldn't even remember it himself. But being able to make that decision suggests he did still have some semblance of emotions that felt like shows were fun. Once again, a walking corpse of his chiildhood.

In the end, it's like he already lost this original joy for shows since middle school, and then grew even more confused about what made him happiest with the new joy he experienced after finding a place in WxS. He hasn't been able to wholeheartedly enjoy his passion because he's been continuously rejected, and he thought he was having fun when WxS accepted him - but in the end, that fun was from finally finding a place.

Update: Tetrad gives more implications of how Rui had gone astray post-Curtain Call. Tsukasa and Rui sing together, "We're facing the same direction", but Rui appears troubled. It's like Rui can't declare that he is chasing his dreams as confidently as the rest of WxS. Deep down, a part of him probably knew this even before Backlit Lens Flare happened but was afraid of facing it.

I would further go on to associate CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY to both Kitty and Cinema which its imagery resembles. The card set takes place in Shibuya where Kitty takes place in, and Cinema uses the same director's cut + Tsukasa's trained card directly mentions Cinema on the billboard.

There's also the naming that is clearly based on Jackpot Sad Girl - which I think just goes to highlight how both Rui and Mafuyu have the power through it mindset that it lands them dead and sad respectively: people need to reconcile their differences with others to truly love and feel alive (Rui) and people can't endure stress for too long without getting depressed (Mafuyu). Both ignored their human needs and thus this is where they wound up.

The parallel with Kitty feels like it's also within the overall messaging - how facing things can lead to losing yourself even more when you aren't mentally prepared and have no clear-cut answer (sounds similar to what Rui carelessly did in Curtain Call, doesn't it?). In Mafuyu's case, she seemed about ready to change herself again to please her mother, and in Mizuki's case, opening up to Niigo would make them more sensitive to what they say and probably even change themselves so as to not be left alone. Mizuki has even expressed this sentiment once by dressing as a boy in middle school, when they already knew they loved cute things since childhood and was even reaffirmed by their sister.

In Our Survival and Escape, the point is made that it's BECAUSE Mizuki never opened up to Niigo that they were able to protect their heart. Compare this to Rui, who bore everything about himself to WxS by not holding back with his performances and past and thus gained their unconditional acceptance. As a result, he becomes swayed by them when he realizes that things would come to an end and becomes preoccupied with stopping it even at the cost of himself - his passion. If Mizuki had similarly put their utmost trust in Niigo like this, it wouldn't be surprising either if they quickly get swayed to stop expressing themselves too if one of them ever expressed dismay (hinting that they would leave).

Thus, in order to find the answer to real love, you have to protect your heart first, even if it means running away and distancing yourself from others (Kitty). But unlike Mizuki, Rui was taught from childhood to simply not care about what people say, so he has never been aware of just how much words can affect you (compare the advice Mizuki's sister and Rui's mom gave them: completely different). This winds him up in CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY, where he's unknowingly adjusting himself for WxS to not leave him.

As for Cinema, both songs capture how Akito and Rui's struggles and fears at the time feel like the exact same - being left behind and losing your place because you weren't enough, to the point of losing who you really are (Akito pushing himself to be passionate to match everyone else, Rui falling into the trap of peer pressure to match everyone else. What they envy in 'everyone else' is how they want things that Akito and Rui don't feel like they really care about and view as meaningless. But in truth, they don't care about it only because they're more concerned about belonging - they've always had it deep down in them.).

But in Akito's case, VIVID BAD SQUAD directly reaches out for him when he pushes himself far too much and forces himself to suffer to make up for his lack of talent. That's why Akito is reassured that even at his weakest and most pathetic, there will be people there who refuse to leave him alone. So Cinema feels like Akito freely lamenting on how he's different from the people, that he can't keep up with them, but with VBS by his side, he feels like it's fine to find and pursue who he truly is.

On the other hand, CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY feels like Rui's suppressed spite from having to keep up with WxS in order to not be left alone. Because everyone else will betray him, it has to be and can only be WxS who've endured him until now. It's the first time he found people who would stay, so he's desperate not to lose them that he would subconsciously change himself so he can keep matching their needs. And the realization makes him spiteful, because he's lost what was fun for him from that need to change for others to stay. And he's left to stay lost to the very end, because the only way right now for him to be himself and stop worrying is by others matching him instead, but there is no way to 100% control people - compared to Akito who found his answer by coming to terms with the impossibility to control yourself to be someone else. Because VBS was there to accept him as he was when he was trying so hard to be someone else.

Rui will probably eventually realize he has to just accept he's lost his passion from the fear of being alone and stop lamenting controlling everything around him, once he gets tired of it and reaches his limit like Akito in Stray Bad Dogs.

Suddenly everyone started up onto a nonsense scenario (Whatever you do, wherever you look, there's a traffic of influencers.)

It's just like a movie, exactly like a movie. (But still, here, there, everywhere, loners, manji, Gen Z, even monkeys want it.)

No matter where you go, there's a story. (Just give me a punchline, its meaning can be whatever.)

Cinema and CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY are like the perspectives of two boys who feel like outsiders to the world, but one is actively trying change himself to belong somewhere and the other finds himself suddenly facing peer pressure when he used to not care about belonging somewhere. It's even contrasted in Akito's customer service front and Rui's indifference to school terrorism that they are foils of one another in a society. And probably why Akito hates Rui too - for taking any means necessary to achieve what he wants without a care for people, when Akito has spent his life working hard to be equals to people in order to belong.

[More similarities in lyrics, in no particular order (CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY in brackets):

Traffic’s already jammed up now. Oh well, nothing I can do about that anyway (Whatever you do, wherever you look, there's a traffic of influencers.)

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” "What was it supposed to be like then?" (What happened to things you wanted to sing about?)

Back then I'm sure it was there. The thing that I envisioned was there. When was it that I... (There must have been something you wanted to sing about.)

What are you playing at? Who are you trying to be? There's no way you could be that, right? (At this rate this will never end. What you want definitely isn't money.)]

Maybe it's coincidence, but the lyrics in Cinema also reference Curtain Call very early on:

Someday it'll be bye-bye when the end comes, so Smile for the curtain call and applause.

Cinema is accepting of it and faces it head-on. Rui still avoids it.

And Cinema also captured what happened in Backlit Lens Flare with Bakuno. Something Rui couldn't figure out on his own without Sakaki and Emu:

If you're not suited for the role, Then just rewrite the script!

This is as if implying Akito realizes early on that people are all different, and there may come a time you have to part because of your differences. So you don't have to keep worrying about fitting in - try your best to be yourself instead and smile when it all ends.

This is something that Rui hasn't faced at all, so it's pretty meta that he hadn't thought of matching the actor's individualities. It seems he's lived with the belief that directors have to adjust themselves according to the level they believe the actors are on and actors have to work their hardest to live up to the director's wishes at all times - because the director knows best. Instead of truly understanding their actors for who they are as individuals and what they individually need.

"I always try to cast actors in a way that brings out their strengths." "That's why I always get you to play the role of a type that is easiest for you to match."

And this becomes a regret for Rui in the same story - realizing that he hadn't thought enough about what Tsukasa really wanted and needed.

"...I feel a little regretful that I hadn't thought that far."

Nene's surprise at Rui's words further imply that this isn't how he normally is. That he wouldn't be thinking so much about people and their personal needs.

It isn't therefore surprising that he agrees with and commits to the mindset that he has to power through his emotions without speaking to anyone. He expects that from his actors, and applying it to real life, it means that your role and scenario have already been decided from birth and what was left was living up to it. It's frighteningly similar to the lyrics in Engeki, which I wasn't even thinking about. Except it wasn't forced on him but rather something Rui decided on his own, with no harmful intent from the people who fed that mindset. Even before KAITO - it was his mother who unknowingly instilled this in him:

"People are people, I am myself. If you take care of what you like, someday you'll be able to make friends too. Like how I met your dad." (i.e. don't bother with the painful things around you, just keep doing what you do and keep going until you get there.)

And hence why this commission is full of firey anger. The story tramples on the way Rui has lived until now, proving him wrong when he thought he finally found his answer by powering through his fear of losing WxS. How it made him realize that he had at some point been driven by something petty like being with friends forever and lost the passionate part of him, the one who would do anything to satisfy himself. He's realized he's no longer having fun like the child he used to be, evident from the lyrics that start off with how he no longer has anything he wants to convey.

"Now let's all laugh. Aren't views more important than art? A terrible price for the virus. So what will you do? Is that really fine?" The lyrics are as if Rui is finally realizing that everything he's been doing, making people smile up until now, has been just for views (for WxS to stay around), and it finally makes him question, is this what he really wants??? Where did all the passion, fun and self-satisfaction that he thought he was making shows for went to???

(This is a more literal translation, the popular TL translates it as Then what do we do? Was that how it was supposed to go?)

I don't know if it's clear now - but in conclusion, CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY feels very much like Rui realizing how he was more focused on protecting his place over enjoying what he does. The first lines of the song do seem to be screaming a spitefulness in not being able to just do what you enjoy: "No one wants to listen (...), I don't have anything I want to convey (...)"

That's why CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY is an ironic name, appearing on the director's cut to imply they're filming a movie of Rui's life. How Rui had been living dead against his own self - falling victim to peer pressure (trends) to protect his place in WxS. Until Sakaki reminds him of the heights his true self wanted to reach and reignites the passionate fire for theatre inside him.

In summary, to simplify it, CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY's parallels come together to tell a complete story about Rui Kamishiro (biased but idc): 1) Jackpot Sad Girl: The unhealthiness of Rui and Mafuyu's mindset of powering through what they think they want without properly talking to people. 2) Kitty: How putting your trust in people can sway your heart and steer you away from what you truly want, something Mizuki knows and thus avoids but not Rui. 3) Cinema: A combination of Jackpot Sad Girl and Kitty - how a person with Rui's mindset is left feeling angry and confused when realizing he has lost himself from having his heart unexpectedly swayed by people. This is foiled by a complete opposite like Akito who has lived a life with no reason to truly call his own and is bitterly aware of how it is all because his life has always been completely defined by other people.

(Man, I LOVE the Cinema foils so much. Akito and Rui are such perfect opposites I LOVE THEM.)

And finally, from the end of CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY:

Devoid of soul, music remains silent Unheard lyrics conceal their essence; without playback, music loses its meaning. Thus, modern music is pronounced deceased.

YES. YES. DEVOID OF SOUL AS I SAID, HOW RUI KAMISHIRO FEELS LIKE A WALKING CORPSE OF HIS CHILDHOOD. PLAYBACK!!! LOOK BACK AT YOUR PAST AND FIND YOURSELF!!! REMEMBER THE JOY AND PASSION YOU CAN'T GIVE UP RUI-KUN!!! Stop trying to keep people around, face solitude and be brave: what's most important is to be yourself!

Backlit Lens Flare felt like a reawakening for Rui, and it's why it's one of the best stories alongside Pandemonium for me. If Tsukasa is completely avoidant, then Rui is full of blatant lies. But of course because the writers will never clearly describe the emotions in WxS stories, I can't confirm this is the intended interpretation. It's just my own personal interpretation that I enjoy best and makes most emotional sense to my personal experiences.

But my opinions are bound to change because there are soooo many ways of seeing things. For now, this is what I think of Rui Kamishiro in Backlit Lens Flare and CYBERPUNK DEAD BOY.

[finlay-papers]

I fear I've summoned the entire SWTD fandom with a joke image I posted like 2 days ago...… /hj

Guess I'll do like everybody else slap out an actual "introduction" statement thing lol

I, myself, am multifandom but my Tumblr blog will remain chained to Still Wakes The Deep, other socials do conform to other fandoms and original characters (other social platforms won't be stated in this post or linktree)

You *can* ask me anything, whether it be general information about me, headcanons for a character you're drooling over /lh, such

I'm not particularly judgemental on the AMA bit lmao

To the 'AMA' commission bit, regardless of if I want pay or not, I can still do art/hc/char-sheet commissions without pay, since currently they're just hobby work on a hobby website

Of course hcs aren't a pay-to-have situation, so they nonetheless no matter what won't change, just ask and recieve them lol

More personally :3

My names Jack, I'm a transgender [male] teenager and I do writing and artistry for the most part of my internet presence. I'm danish, but speak predominantly only English online. I am textually tonedeaf, meaning I don't pick up on social cues and most sarcasm, use tonetags if you can. Alongside the comprehensive issues, I have an array of more issues, like heavy narcissism, apathy and extreme aggression control problems. I, of course, am trying to better myself and my mentioned respective issues, and if the unfortunate happens and the rather lacking aggression does file through, I do entirely apologize and take accountability once settling down. Albeit how possibly assholeish or unemotional I could seem. Most of my social media feature more mature content, whether it's just smaller mature topics all up to nsfw content. I'm not shy to graphic description and won't mind making something of those contexts [Like character.ai bots, which I'm starting to do soon, this text box will change once I finish]

TW: ‼️ Mentions of immorality [inhumane crimes] ‼️

In line of the "not shy to NSFW", I do have set boundaries around that for myself and my work. Which includes but is not limited to; Pedophilia, incest, hatecriming, trans/homophobia, grooming, age gaps too pedophilic [EXAMPLE: 19 x 54], borderline sexual misuse/abuse.

And boundaries as of my platform, as I potentially grow here, I'm not gonna use the platform to bash people. Though there is one minor exception and that is spreading a person for awareness of their actions. A thing I've been doing for years, and something I will keep on doing.

Umm, yeah that's the shit for now, might add on as we summon more‼️🔥

[sparkles-and-trash]

dabihawks, post war drabble ~

Keigo loves Thursdays.

Really, what's not to love? Like, it's the day before Friday, for one!

It's also a home office day for Keigo, so he can sleep in, which is a new thing he does now!

The fact that Thursday also just happens to be the day he meets up with Touya in the afternoons is merely a coincidence, not at all any reason that Thursdays are now so special to him.

Totally random.

However, here he is now, scuttling about his apartment that he has barley fully moved into, moving around his little trinkets and trying to make the place look more lived in than it truly is.

It's Touya's first time seeing this place since he joined him during the viewing when it was for sale, and Keigo might care just a tiny bit that it looks nice.

And if, when Keigo opens the door and sees Touya standing there looking all healthy (ish, he's getting there) and radiant and with the stupid half smirk, half smile he always sports when he firsts sees Keigo, if then his heart skips a beat, like it does every damn time, well then that is his business and his business alone.

Keigo can hardly keeps his wings from flapping when Touya takes in the apartment with awe, commenting at how Keigo finally discovered his own taste, and he can't help but following the white haired man around with little hops of excitement as they go.

Touya has a way of undoing him like this.

But after the initial excitement of the apartment dies down and they sit down on Keigo's new (used) couch with their tea, Keigo can tell there's something Touya's trying to say.

...but he can't seem to get to it, so Keigo decides to give him a nudge.

"So, how was the Program today?" the hero asks casually, eyeing the in reform ex-villain casually.

Touya huffs.

"It's all the same at this point," he says with a roll of his beautiful, turquoise eyes.

Keigo makes a questioning sound, and Touya continues.

"Actually," Touya adds, and Keigo perks up hoping to finally catch on to what's been bothering his guest.

Touya takes a moment to look Keigo up and down for a second, before he continues.

"I met this weird guy today, apparently he used to work for... them."

It's Keigo's turn to snort.

"You can say the Commission Touya, it's not a curse word," the hero says with a smirk.

"Not that a curse word or ten ever stopped you," he adds and Touya gives a small smile.

"Yeah, well, they only let very few people from there keep working with the new programs, but this guy clearly got to stay," Touya elaborate.

Keigo waits for Touya to finally get to the point, but he's getting a little impatient, which his frazzled wings are starting to show off.

"He asked about you," Touya finally admits, and Keigo's chest does a weird, contracting thing.

"Who..."

Keigo's voice trails off before he can finish his question, but he doesn't have to.

"He said he used to... I guess he took care of you? When you were little?" Touya asks carefully.

Keigo feels himself nod, but he doesn't find his voice.

It has to be Mera.

Mera, with his messy hair and deep set eye-bags, drowsy voice and oddly comforting presence.

Mera who never lost his patience with young Keigo who had no clue about the most normal things, who never ridiculed him, who bandages him up after rough trainings, and who tucked him back into bed after nightmares.

Keigo hadn't seen him since he turned eighteen and was pushed from the nest so roughly he nearly crashed into the pavement.

Keigo turned his attention back to Touya, and with a small voice he manages to ask:

"What did he ask?"

Touya's face was uncharacteristically soft when he took Keigo in for a moment before he spoke again.

"He heard that we're... friends, I guess, and wanted to ask me how you're doing."

Keigo wasn't sure if he imagined it, but he thought he saw a tiny blush on Touya's face when he fumbled to describe their relationship.

He sorta really hoped he did, at least.

"What did you tell him?" Keigo asked, and Touya hummed.

"That you're busy making your first very own nest, that you're still a squawking, strange little bird that's in love with his own reflection and- OUCH!" Touya's tired halted as Keigo (not so) gently slapped Touya's shoulder with his wing.

"You're such an idiot!" Keigo said as he rolled his eyes, but he couldn't hide his smile either.

When Touya was done pouting Keigo raised his eyebrows silently asking for the real answer.

"I told him you're doing better," Touya said simply, and Keigo nodded.

"That's true, I guess," he agreed.

Touya hums and moves to awkwardly pick at a loose thread at his sleeve, which is a sure sign there's more to the story.

"Touya..?" Keigo asked, and Touya nods.

"Yeah, he... he asked if I could tell you he'd love to meet you again."

Keigo's surprised to find his eyes growing a little wet.

"He asked if..?" he asks hoarsely, and Touya's nice enough for once to not point out how hard the question hit the hero.

"Yeah, and I said I'd ask, so, I guess this is that."

Keigo nods, a thousand thoughts flying trough his head at top speed.

Neither of them said anything for a while, and Keigo didn't manage to stop his thought until Touya lightly bumped into his shoulder.

"You can say no, you know?" he says casually.

"Would you come with me?" Keigo asks before Touya even managed to shut his mouth after speaking.

And now it simply hangs open in surprise.

"You want me...?" Touya starts, and Keigo nods.

"To come with me to see him." Keigo finishes.

Touya looks at him for what feels like forever, before he smiles softly, so soft Keigo's heart nearly explodes.

Keigo's eyes registers that Touya's mouth moves, but he doesn't need to hear to understand what the answer is.

Keigo meant to hug him, he swears, but then somewhere along the way his brain decided to go rouge and then...

Then he's kissing Touya.

And Touya is kissing him back.

They are kissing.

And Keigo is quite sure everything will be okay, after all.

[the-mandawhor1an]

6 months later...

TLDR: it's Zaddy's and my RP 'anniversary'; artworks; Wolke being emotional about her Tumblr experience; and a fluffy one shot/drabble at the end of the WAY TOO LONG POST

I've alluded to it before, I've commissioned some artwork of the two lovebirbs and they just so happened to get finished this week. Huge thanks to @kenobiwanx for making the two come alive 😭 I can NOT stop staring at them.

LOOK AT THEM 😭😭😭

Yes these are spoilers for upcoming events but I just 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

@zaddymandalorian Überraschung!

Back to the actual point *wipes tears off her face*

Let's set the scene...

My dearest Zaddy and I reconnected in November of 2023 as I had been on a work trip at that time and I needed someone to talk to. We'd been talking on and off for the last months, mostly smalltalk and sometimes me complaining about stuff. Worth mentioning is also that I sent her my Maia fanfic back in June. First person to read it besides myself. I've known Zaddy since spring of 2016 ish (which also means I've known her longer than my husband – fun fact) so I felt comfortable with her reading my extremely self-indulgent shit. Everyone needs friends like that ♥

We mused about the roleplays we lost to forum admins being ruthless in their inactive-thread-deletion efforts every 4 months. We had barely started a Witcher RP and I'm sure it would've been awesome if we had continued. We literally stopped 7 ish posts in so nothing had happened really. – Why was it inactive? Well I took a 14 month roleplay hiatus due to me being chronically fatigued. The joys of working a stressful job and being severly anemic. Oops.

I tested the waters and made an offhand comment about maybe giving in and asking her to plot something with me.

This is a very convincing re-enactment of what happened: (translated because we're German potaters)

Well... and that's when the fun began

I, being a total Pedro fangirlie, asked if we wanted to just take the synopsis of my fic and run with that. She agreed, I was happy, she was happy.

So it's been 6 months.

OH. MY. GOD.

I did not think I had it in me to be consistently posting daily for 6 months. We've laughed, we've cried, we've lost sleep over it. We've grinned into our phone screens like maniacs at work and luckily no one asked

And now, 260k words later, I'm still in love with the babies. In fact I'd say I love the little blorbs even more now. Maia has a face, she has outfits (multiple!) she has a family and a story (that's only about 1/3 written so whew we might make it to a million)

Of course I also love Zaddy very much (and I will keep lovebombing your ass, bitch 🖤💜)

You know what, fuck it, I'm mentioning more people. Buckle up! Wolke spreads some love!

@immarocketman for being the first person on Tumblr that I kind of clicked with because we share a love for Pedro and the color purple 💜

@roughdaysandart for 1) allowing me insight in her creative process making a Fanfic comic and b) doodling Maia basically as soon as she made an appearance in text form 💜

The moots: @thefrogdalorian @djarins-cyare @djarins-wife @pedroswife69 for interacting with me, commenting on my posts and being real cute in general 💜

Everyone that ever interacted with me on here has been nothing but friendly, I feel extremely welcome over here. Everyone who liked/reblogged or commented on my posts, thank you so much. 💕💕💕💕💕💕

Now that the sappy whining is over, who wants to read something actually interesting?

In spirit of me being overbearingly loving, I've typed up a bit of fluff from the lovesick fools™ of Clan Mudhorn. Unbeta'd.

It was early in the morning, the sun barely over the horizon and engulfing the room in warm orange light, when Din awoke, a soft and warm body nestled into his side. She let out the softest little hum when he buried his face in her hair, wrapping his arms around her to hold her close.

"Sleep," he purred into her hair, placing a kiss on her forehead when her face turned towards him. Again, with a quiet hum, she buried her face in the crook of his neck. "How am I supposed to sleep when my husband has his hands all over me?"

"I'm sorry," he apologized and gently stroked her hair. "Why are you awake anyway?" she asked, finally raising her head so her sleepy, green eyes looked into his. "Hey mesh'la," he greeted her with a smile, placing a gentle kiss on her lips. "I don't know. I guess the sun woke me up, it's too bright in here." He sighed. "I miss the hut on Nevarro, it was always dark in there." "Come on, it's not that bad here. We needed more space anyway."

She pulled away from him, rolling over so she was on her stomach, hugging the pillow underneath her to get a better look at her everything. "Is the sun too strong, my warrior king?" a grin crept onto her lips as her eyes blinked slowly. Clearly this was way too early for her liking. To be fair, last night went on for longer than anticipated. "Are the little troublemakers awake yet?" She raised her head and turned to face the door. For now it seemed peaceful and quiet in the adjacent rooms.

Knowing well she would rise from the bed to check if he didn't stop her, Din hoisted himself over her body, practically pressing her into the mattress with his body weight. "You're not getting up to check on the kids now, cyar'ika," he muttered, peppering kisses along her shoulder. A chuckle escaped her lips as she rotated her head so she could see him in her peripheral.

She was so glad the mattress was soft enough to just give in under the weight, forming a perfectly human-shaped dent to make way for her body. "Whatever you say, great Mand'alor." For just a second she could feel him grind his pelvis into her butt.

He kept on pressing kisses on her neck, her shoulders, slowly crawling down her spine, kissing every little scar he found on his descent. "You really have to stop saying it like that." "Like what?" "With the bedroom-voice." He stopped to crawl back up to her head and leaned forward, giving her the chance to look into his face. His eyes were darkened, one of his eyebrows twitching upward.

"You're insatiable," she laughed, shaking her head. He slowly lifted off of her, immediately wrapped both arms around her and pulled her onto his chest. "That's your fault, my love." His voice was warm and silky, the vibration in his chest making her shudder. "My fault?" "You're just too beautiful so I can't keep my eyes or my hands off of you for long." "Di'kut" "Gar di'kut, forever." "Forever is a long time," she said softly and ran her fingers through his hair.

"And I'll be happy to spend every minute with you. I love you so much" he took her hand in his and softly kissed her knuckles. She sighed and watched him kiss every finger, eyeing her intently. She was mesmerized by his eyes, almost hypnotized by the dark brown, with the orange light surrounding them it reminded her of embers, glowing and warm.

Forever was a long time and although it didn't feel like it, time was progressing, evident by the threads of silver that sparkled in his dark brown curls. And although she felt like she herself was showing signs of ageing, he always told her she was as beautiful as the day he met her. "I love you more, mesh'la," she replied and rested her hand on his cheek.

"You and the kids are everything to me. I would die for you," he mused, closing his eyes as her finger brushed over his beard toward his lips. Her movements halted and the dark brown eyes reopened, scanning her features for signs of her sudden stop. The small crease on her forehead was enough for him to know exactly what was troubling her.

"Look at me," he pleaded with her, cupping her cheek in one of his hands now. "I know that look on your face. I would doesn't mean I will. Stop thinking about it. I'm here and so are you." Her hand slowly retreated to rest atop of his, thumb brushing over his warm and tanned skin. "Thanks to you, I am. You've saved my life once, I hope you don't have to do it a second time." She smiled warmly and nestled her face further into his hand.

Din grumbled and pulled her face closer, peppering it with kisses wherever he could reach. "I've saved your life twice. But it doesn't matter, you've given me more than I could ever imagine. I have a family now. And the most amazing wife in the galaxy." "I love you." "Until the end of space and time."

Both flinched when they heard a noise outside the bedroom. Instantly both heads were turned to the door, listening for more noises. One of the kids must've woken up, maybe their voices were too loud.

"Any guesses?" Din asked his wife, once again burying his face in her hair. "My gut tells me it's your mini-version," she suapected, turning her head to kiss him gently. "Your gut? Or your Jedi magic?"

Din rose from the bed, stretching his muscles in the morning sun, stared at by his better half. "And you say I'm insatiable." A sly grin appeared on his lips as he put on a shirt, his shoulders and bicep stretching the fabric just enough to make her hum. "The faster you check on the troublemakers the sooner you can come back to bed. Hurry, I'm not done with you."

She didn't have to tell him twice.

Translations:

mesh'la - beautiful

cyar'ika - darling

di'kut - idiot

gar di'kut - your idiot

[nananarc]

Gonna disclose my income as a freelance artist because I feel like it might give some perspective. And mostly bc I'm feeling a bit burnout and I want pity points ok? Lol.

Context 1: For sake of simplicity, all figures are net income (minused all fees, charges, insurance, benefits, etc)

Context 2: I live in a big city in Việt Nam and the cost of living is relatively low. A salary of 1000$/month is considered really good for someone living alone with one pet, no family or children, no debt or other liabilities. Entry level jobs usually start at around 200-300$/month.

.

Let's start in 2021 because that's when it can be considered when I started doing art professionally.

In 2021 and 2022, I was juggling between art school, a part-time online side gig, building social media for my art, and of course try to get commissions. But coms were few and far between, mainly because I didn't have an online present before and I only hang in relatively small fandoms. So all I earn through side gig and art were only some change, in total avarage to about 40$/ month. Some months made up for no income months.

In 2023, things starts to be a bit better as I get more confident in my skill, but coms are still few and far between and months with no income is still common. Side gig was few and far between too and pay less. Overall I'd say it goes up to about 80$/month.

This year 2024, art school is done, I can finally do art full time. But I was severely burnout because all the accumulated stress since waaaaay before catch up with me and i couldn't cope anymore. I have to spend a lot of time resting instead. Fortunately, I received a decent amount of coms each month, and the new patreon surprisingly got a few supporters (I fully realistically expected it to sit at 0 for at least a year). Overall, I have an 8 hours 4 days work week: 4 hours a day on com and managing social media and other stuff that actually makes money; 4 hours a day on my own projects and personal indulgence that doesn't directly make money. As of now, my income is about 180$/month.

.

You are probably wondering how the fuck do one live like this in this economy.

It's because my family is middle class and can afford a freeloader like me in their house, receive their pocket money and tuition fee. I'm privileged.

But of course my family isn't rich and if just one catastrophic event happens to us, we'd be in bad shit. I'm constantly in anxiety of money, work, and the future. It doesn't help that I'm late 20s and many people around keep reminding of how I'm not making money yet still leeching off parents. It doesn't help that, for years all i hear about art is it will just lead to failure and no money.

.

But still, I am thankful of my family for letting me stay here. And all my friends and supporters for giving me money oc lol, but more importantly, believing in me more than I ever do in myself. I read all of your little tags, your keysmash and compliments, and I keep them all dear to my heart, and I went back to them everytime I need motivation. I can't see where my future as an artist will be, but I cling to your support and love as the will to keep going. Thank you all so, so fucking much. I'd have been literally dead in a ditch somewhere without you guys.

Anyway, idk, I've always been adamant about wage transparency (especially in a corporate setting) but I rarely see this in freelance artists. except to flex, to promote the hustle culture, or to sell some courses they made. Most of us don't want/can't subscribe to the grind and have nothing to flex either. All we have is this shit economy. I'd wish we could have been more open about this and many of us wouldn't have to feel so lonely and despair all the time.

[eriisaam]

Would it be a bit much to just... want to make a VN (kinetic novel or otherwise) of OC things, even fandom ones?

It's been something in the back of my mind a lot. Moreso now than before, since making a VN start to finish had been a dream in general, and I struggle with practicing properly.

The goal I kept having is I had a heavy interest in VNs, especially choose-your-owns, dating-sims, raising sims, stuff of the sort. But I keep running into problems time and time again (especially every time I made it a reoccurring new year's resolution of sorts) where time and personal-background-noise aside, I tend to get motivation for an idea, see it through to an extent, and then panic and talk myself out of it for, among other things, not being experienced enough to do that particular now-out-of-scope idea, second-guessing the idea as dumb, or second-guessing how to approach an idea to the point after it goes all over the place between combining other ideas or rotating several approaches, it just ends up dying anyways.

Some ideas, even while not 'dead', are still in limbo because I doubt I had the experience for it (case in point the project Enoli came from), and others I keep hitting that catch-22 of wanting an idea to be simple to practice with (cuz getting too big otherwise risks being 'too ambitious/big/complex/whatever' to be 'allowed' to do right then), but then at the same time worrying when ideas become too simple/plain/grounded (that then it comes off as too boring or generic or whatever).

It's... not been a fun cycle to keep hitting...

On one hand: I know people practice with the OCs they're comfortable with to explore new territory with someone familiar. Even without VN practice, I still do it even with the summoner OCs in general in other ways, one of the big ones being things like learning how to make a proper ref sheet now. (And before that, an older OC with how to make a commission sheet.)

It's a lot less about really wanting a VN about, say, World of a Golden Fate that badly, so much as thinking it combines a lot of purposes and gives me a lot of experiences in areas I desperately need it in for other things, and at the same time it's with characters and lore I've worked on for a long time (not-so-much organized chronologically, or set to stone on paper, however...), has the most familiarity or sheer stuff figured out as it is, and if people do things like animations, to vtuber models out of their treasured OCs, then surely this isn't that far off from that thought either?

I've also, for the long time, been made especially aware a lot through past experience and otherwise how much people seem to react better to art than to writing, and I guess a part of me keeps thinking (in a not-so-positive way) that maybe World of a Golden Fate would be easier to digest if it went hard-visuals, since any time I dumped it in the past in the form of either fics or word dumps, I get told off for it a lot. (Not with any of you, all of you have been amazing, it's just... past memories of past encounters can bite like that still, is all.)

On the otherhand: It's a game. I'm still making a whole ass game. Visual Novels might be an easier medium to get into and make for than a whole MMORPG gacha, sure, but... that's still a whole ass game. Even a kinetic novel, let alone a visual novel that lets you do things, is still a pretty tall order as it is.

I always get selfconscious whenever I put the summoner OCs in particular out there in a grand way. Why invest so much time and effort in these OCs in particular? These OCs who had a history of not... always having the most pleasant moments attached to them in their development time and again...? Why would I be dumb enough to dedicate an entire game to them, and not put the same effort into a completely different game, a new plot, and with better worth put into that effort of what I can do with said game after? These summoners had a history of annoying and aggravating people, so why not focus on fresher faces instead? And how selfish and arrogant is it to make an entire game dedicated to a bunch of self-inserts you've been made aware time and again nobody cares about, let alone to that degree, right? You really think so full and so high and mighty of them and yourself?

And I don't even know if this is worth a poll, to be honest. I do have ideas, but, again, I worry the not-related-to-fandom, this-is-to-practice-and-learn-with-as-a-first-time-please-be-gentle ideas would be too 'nothing' to matter, and then in turn, miss the point of being a toe-dip in how to even do this kind of thing in the first place. The summoners, meanwhile, feel more familiar, but that's a lot of effort to go into them that just drawing loose art and writing couldn't also accomplish.

I'm not even sure if I'm making coherent sense airing this out. But it's been gnawing at me for a while and I'm not even sure what I'm asking about this. Advice? Thoughts? Just proverbially taking my brain out and shaking it like shaking loose whatevers out of a boot? I dunno, I'm still kind of waking up...

[littleststarfighter]

You don't have to answer this at all, just wanted to give some perspective/info from someone who's been doing illustration commissions for about 15 years: in my opinion, it's always better to work backwards from an hourly rate rather than doing value-based pricing.

When working with private individuals as clients, US$30-50/hr is pretty standard for custom freelance stuff depending on experience, but since you're new to commissions I'd recommend offering a discount for the first few slots (both to get things moving, and also to give yourself lower-stakes "training" until you get used to the process—sometimes your workflow will change in ways you didn't expect under the conditions).

Personally, I prefer to offer a fixed quote based on my hourly rate, because that gets any kind of sticker shock out of the way. I estimate the amount of time it'll take me, add ~10% as a buffer, and apply my hourly rate. The fixed quote also gives me a little freedom not to stress out if it's taking more or less time than anticipated; I just make a note for my next quote and adjust accordingly.

The hourly rate might seem high to you, as it often does to people who are used to more traditional salary structures. But keep in mind that as a freelancer, you're also your own admin support: you don't bill for time spent emailing, researching, invoicing, etc. Tax can also get a bit complicated if you start doing a lot of freelance work.

My own base (non-commercial) rate is US$60/hr, because I've been doing this for a very long time. Frankly, the reason I have a lot of long-term repeat clients who pay my rate is because I communicate well and deliver on time. I set out a timeline up front with scheduled check-ins at various stages, and then I stick to that timeline no matter what. As someone who's also hired many freelance artists in the past, I know that reliability will win over genius every single time.

Speaking of timelines, ALWAYS be specific about the number and scope of revisions you offer. Depending on the project, I might phrase it as "2 rounds of revisions, with up to 1 hour of work per round" or similar. I bill anything beyond that scope at a higher hourly rate, usually about US$90/hr, billed by the half-hour. This also gives you leverage to say "Sure, I can add a whole new character and completely change the background; that will take about X hours which will put us into hourly billing territory at X rate." Either they'll back down or you'll be well compensated for the trouble, and most importantly (from a client services perspective) you've not told them no, you've given them options and reminded them what they've already agreed to.

In terms of payment plans, I normally require 50% up front (non-refundable) and 50% on final delivery. Since you haven't yet built up a rep as a commission artist, I recommend a lower up-front rate (maybe 20-30%). I do strongly advise getting SOMETHING up front to lock clients in and make sure they can't completely ditch if something happens. Plus, refusing to pay a small deposit is a major red flag.

I offer a 5% discount for complete payment up front, because it's honestly worth that 5% just to not have to deal with chasing people down and sending invoice reminders and whatnot.

I'm sorry to hear you've been going through such a tough time, and I hope this was helpful and not too overwhelming; it's just stuff I wish someone had told me when I was first starting out, and I think it's important for working artists to share info about business practices. I wasn't strict about a lot of things back then (like number of revisions), and it always ended up coming back to bite me. It might seem counter-intuitive, but I promise that thinking through and setting a lot of rules/boundaries up front will save you a lot of stress and trouble in the end.

I seriously want to thank you for this. It's incredibly informative not just for me but I'm sure other start out artists too. You've gone over things that I'd have no idea to do, thank you.

I'm certainly looking into how to pay tax as being in the UK I've never had to work that out before as we have it done for us in most jobs. So that would have been something I'd have forgotten about and it's not something you want to miss. I definitely have to time myself working as I don't know how long I take as I've never thought about that either. I just know I'm slow. It's interesting to see what you'd charge hourly as I see a lot of fan commissions having a low fixed rate depending on what you offer.  So definitely have to look whether to offer that or like you suggest a more freelance rate of pay. I'll admit US$30-50/hr made me gasp but that's because I'm used to working for UK minimum wage (roughly $13 a hr) so that seems a lot to me. Gives me something to think about. Though I worry about pricing people out to begin with what with being quite slow and a nobody. And yes! Never forget about getting a deposit. I learnt that the bad way decades ago when I did try to do a commission and was never paid. That's what made me nervous to even begin as I can be a pushover. So need to be more strict in what I can offer and of course revise too.

Seriously thank you this is so helpful. Like you say there's so much people don't share about getting into freelance and commission work. Getting that step up, even if it's me doing it, is something I've no idea how to even start on. I get people saying why aren't you working in art? But my answer is always 'how?' It's something no one's told me about. How to sell yourself and your work. Even commission work confused me. So please don't worry this is beyond helpful and I'm very grateful for you taking your time to help me. It's been a very rough few months but I'm trying to stay positive. This may help me while I find work. Much love, Lucy 💖