#i've always found this painting interesting

[atley01]

Tips for all of my alternative & Chronically ill/ disabled friends!

A big thing that's helped me feel more comfortable accommodating my disability is finding accessibility tools that reflect my personality / interests.

I should put a disclaimer that making disability "aesthetic" should not be the most important thing about your health! I do this where I can to help me accept my disability.

Here are some alt accessibility tools I've found / made & utilized for myself!

1. If you're prone to nausea:

Anti-nausea meds work, but I also find that peppermints work just as well! I always have mints on me. At home, I've stored them in this coffin container!

I do keep a few of these mints in my bag, as well as ginger hard candies (they taste very strong, but are VERY efficient). I got the peppermints at Dollar tree, and they've genuinely been a life saver.

Alternatively, I've found this adorable ouija board altoids container that has mints in it!

The mints are even fun-shaped! I also saw other horror-movie themed altoid containers in-store as well. Since they're tiny, they dont work well for severe nausea, but they are still helpful!

2. If you struggle with temperature-regulation:

For me, my hands and feet are always FREEZING, but my core will be super warm. What has helped me a lot has been gloves and fuzzy socks!

I have a lot of spooky gloves like this, but I prefer the fingerless ones because I can still use my phone and be warm at the same time! I've also heard my friends who are wheelchair users say gloves can help protect your hands if you use a manual wheelchair. Another added bonus is that certain gloves can help limit mobility for those of you who struggle with hypermobility in your hands.

3. Do you have noise-canceling headphones? Decorate them!

I decorated my N/C headphones in shark stickers because sharks are my special interest!

These are Soundcore Life Q30's. I have gotten compliments on the stickers many times! You could put halloween stickers on yours or decorate your headphones in other ways! I've seen people crochet horns onto the headband portion of their headphones.

4. I would recommend any chronically ill person carry a cup around to stay hydrated:

ESPECIALLY If you need electrolytes. You can either have a drink like propel or powerade in your cup (or any drink of your choice, and you could put electrolyte packets in there).

This specific cup isn't the best at keeping my drink cold, but it holds a decent amount of liquid! And it's spooky. If you're someone who struggles to drink enough water, I've found that getting a fun cup helps me a lot!

5. Make communication bracelets!

If I'm having a difficult time voicing my needs, or I'm in a verbal shutdown, these bracelets can come in handy for me.

I'll either wear them on my wrist when needed or present them to my friends so they can read the bracelet and understand what I need. I keep them on a keychain that way I dont lose them and can transport them easily. An example of some of the phrases I've turned into bracelets is; "No spoons," "spoon debt," "verbal shutdown," and "flashbacks," (for when I'm having a PTSD episode.) You could make a bracelet with the medical condition you have as a DIY medical-alert bracelet. I added tiny spoon charms to some of my bracelets because I thought it was funny.

5. Mobility aids!

Decorate your mobility aids with things like stickers, kandi, lights, etc! Pinterest, instagram, and tiktok have a lot of good ideas. You can easily customize your mobility aids to look spooky or look however you want them to!

6. Bags!

I know that for me, I NEED to carry a bag around whenever I go out because it has important medical items that I need, but it also keeps all my important items like keys, id, ect, in one spot so that I dont forget / lose them. SOME spooky bags are expensive, but you could find a plain black bag at a thrift store or walmart and accessorize it with patches, keychains, and pins! I've seen people paint designs onto their bags before as well.

• You dont have to spend a lot of money on your accessibility tools!

Find ways to DIY them, or get them secondhand! You could even try working with household items you already have! A lot of these items, or items very similar to it, can be found at the dollar tree - even the materials needed to make the beaded bracelets! (Outside of the spoon charms)

Thats all!

If I think of more, you'll see me again! Be spooky, and be kind to yourself!

[thescummanifesto]

[icewindandboringhorror]

Daily Log

Trying out (probably just temporarily) making short daily-ish notes about things, in an attempt to see if it helps me be more reflective or productive lol.

Activities: Badly carved an eye into an avocado pit with a nail cuticle tool thing. trying to think of better designs to carve into avocado pits. I don't really have the right tools, maybe should order some carving tools. I hate buying things online eeeeee..

Worked on translating a poem into Avirrekava (my constructed language for one of my fantasy species) so I can paint it onto a tapestry sort of thing I'm making, kind of in the style of medieval illuminated manuscripts? I do not have paintbrushes small enough.

Spent a lot of time thinking more about the story with an investigator tracking a doctor who's doing strange experiments and they eventually become friends(ish) after trying to kill each other a few times, lol (set in my fantasy world though, so magic is involved, etc. It's just interesting to think about testing the limitations of magic and what type of experimentation people would do, especially if you own a hospital or morgue or other scenario where you have access to bodies, or good cover for hiding them, etc. Plus worldbuilding religions in the world, what their ideas of morality would be, what an "investigator" or police force would even look like in that setting, etc. Two jhevona main characters in a city full of elves and the in-world politics of that, class war and royals, pretentious scholar communities and how they'd operate, actual magic combat between two advanced magic users and what that would look like (mixing illusions or higher level spells with minor brute force tactics, evasion, enchantments, shapeshifting, etc.) etc. etc. ).

Organized some of my plants, but still need to replant some fully. Succulents grow SO fast, I think I'll run out of room. Also one has burnt to a crisp during the heat wave last week.. my son.. ToT.

Edited a few costume photos then gave up because my camera is evil and I always have that thing where it looks really cool in the mirror but then the final photos suck, which demotivates me to even do anything with them/feels like a waste.

Still chronic health issue sick stinky as usual, plus it's still warm inside from the heat a few days ago so being hot makes joint pain worse... evil.. no energy. fell asleep on the floor for like 30 minutes.

Tried a new oreo flavor and ranked it on my comprehensive oreo ranking list. Mediocre as usual, but I'm too far in to give up now gghj.. I have to just try them all. A fool's labor.

Notable sights: found one 6 leaf clover, two 5 leaf clovers, and eleven 4 leaf clovers. Saw a rabbit, 3 cats in windows, and 4 ducks. Also at some point I was squishing gum in my hand and pulling it apart and when stretched out it would make these really cool spindly spider web patterns. The sky later in the day was hazy pink, purple, and blue pastel sunset.

Goals moving forward: Wake up on time even if I feel sick when I wake up!!! Focus on more immediate projects, don't get distracted. Actually make room for investing in social time and replying to people even with minimal energy reserves. Stay consistent with physical therapy exercises. Plant nasturtiums. Finish and upload videos, email doctors, edit pictures, post the poll adventure thing that has been sitting in a draft for weeks.

Notable foods: None today, but I have asparagus for later which is exciting... my new favorite vegetable whilst on the stinky Nutritionist Prescribed Special Limited Diet

[moineauz]

જ⁀ 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘 𝐘𝐎𝐔 , various !

synopsis: his voice lines about you as his beloved partner

including: veritas, jing yuan, blade

side comments: dw i promise i'm working on the house of musica requests... i just wanted to do this for fun! also this is the first time I've written for jing yuan which is kinda funny. i liked writing for blade again. originally i had welt and aventurine in the mix but i wanted to post this hahaha.

extra: gn reader, angsty and fluffy moments, mentions of marriage, aventurine jumpscare later favourites: blade word count: roughly 2,085+

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐒 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎

WHO ARE THEY? I "So you're asking about my significant other? Are you shocked that I have a significant other? At the very least consider your question."

FIRST MEETINGS? "I met Professor ( Name ) when they barged into my lecture, they said they were 'lost'. Since then we had several heated debates academically. Have I lost in these debates? Several times yes, consequently making debating with them all the more... interesting. Especially considering that Professor ( Name ) has a well-rounded vault of knowledge in most subjects of academic and social relevance. Finally, a conversation worth my time.

GREETINGS? "Professor ( Name ) considers a good greeting the highest attribute. A curt smile and a cup of coffee suffice, thankfully they know when to remain silent. However, there are instances when they will talk relentlessly. Initially, I used my headpiece around them. Nevertheless, their conversations do occasionally convey subtle insightfulness and definite meaning. Gradually I have come to share some liking towards their rather pleasant 'small talk'."

PARTINGS? "A small kiss on the cheek: be it on my skin or the headpiece, that is all. However, I... have always preferred it on the skin."

ABOUT US: ART "Outside of ( Name's ) academic career, they share a peculiar fondness for art. Be it painting or sculptures they could very well get lost in a museum. When they discovered my fondness for sculptures and anatomy, they were... oddly quiet; tracing their hands over my sculptures- or my face to be exact. ( Name's ) admiration is always shown in silence, one of the greatest forms of praise.

ABOUT US: TRUE APPEARANCES "I have questioned how ( Name ) has perceived our relationship. Considering that we are both colleagues, it can lead to speculation amongst other *sighs* inappropriate comments. Hence, I prefer to keep our relationship known only to those who need to. I believe them to be devout and... undoubtedly caring. I hope my attitude towards them conveys a similar message.

CHAT: WORK "Although we teach different subjects, we occasionally mark or review the work of our students. You may call it a 'second opinion'. Thus, their opinion is one that I trust."

CHAT: SERVICE "( Name's ) actions can initially appear simple-minded. However, underneath simplicity, lies thoughtfulness beyond comparison in both work... and at our residence.

PASTIMES DONE TOGETHER? "Film is not an art I deliberately take part in or seek out for leisure. However, ( Name ) was quite adamant and passionate about film. Thus, we've watched a myriad amount of films and TV shows together, both acclaimed and disdained. I have my own varying opinions. I must admit, after a long bath, a film in bed is quite soothing. Considering that ( Name ) similarly enjoys the pleasure of a bath, our nighttime routine is undoubtedly satisfying."

ARGUMENTS: "One must always think before they speak for there is a price to pay. ( Name's ) silence is decisive, deliberate and painful; burning right through your chest. Debates are loud, quarrels are bitterly silent."

SOMETHING TO SHARE: "Solitude is the greatest gift to civilization and self: introspection enlarges the expanse of the mind. However, the pursuit of knowledge is not only found in discovery and text. It is through experience alone. I have found much knowledge in solitude and an equal amount through genuine companionship. Hence, I share my deepest revere. "

WHO ARE THEY? II "My lover. That is who they are to me and all you need to know."

EXTRA: AVENTURINE'S OPINION "I met Ratio's lover when I visited for business matters. But, all that went out of the door! I saw a lovely individual by his desk and thought, 'Who is this?' Ratio never, and I mean never, allows anyone to screw his desk up. Yet, here they were, seated at the edge of his desk toying with his stupid chalk greeting me with a bright smile. We immediately hit off. I suppose Ratio does have some luck in him, but then again, ( Name ) was the one who first asked him out. Less to do with luck, and more to do with destiny. In my opinion, destiny is not something I fully believe in, however, when I watch Ratio and ( Name ), it's difficult to imagine a universe where they aren't together."

𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍

WHO ARE THEY? I "You are looking for Commander ( Name )? Sadly they're on a business trip, however, I'd be happy to answer in their place."

FIRST MEETINGS? "( Name ) is an interesting soul. I've heard of their praised skills in combat and decisive thinking. Many assume I met them on the battlefield. Yet, I met them over a coincidental cup of tea."

GREETINGS? “I find it amusing how our everyday greetings have evolved. At first it was a salute. However, I find that a kiss on the cheek is a much more efficient way of greeting and brightening up the mundane tasks *sighs* of work.”

PARTINGS? “Why bid farewell when one hasn’t said hello? Partings have always been bitter. Yet, I find comfort in knowing that all things lead back from whence they came.”

ABOUT US: AGE “Time for long life species is fickle and plainly slow. Despite that, ( Name ) has constantly made time— less daunting and more fun. ( Name’s ) life span… is a touch shorter than that of myself. Hence, they have brought forth a new value in every passing year to which I cherish. This year I plan on doing something special for their birthday— though, don’t tell them that.”

ABOUT US: SILENCE "As much as ( Name ) glows in social settings, they equally enjoy stillness, if not more. There never is any obligation to fill the void when we're together. It is as natural of an act as breathing.

CHAT: PRODUCTIVITY "( Name ) likes to be on task. I, however, don't always find leisure in such activities. ( Name ) quote, 'holds me accountable'. Of course, there are moments in which I can distract them."

CHAT: FELINES "They are quite fond of Mimi. Unfortunately, Mimi is rather... aggressive when around ( Name ) and has been for a considerable amount of time. One time ( Name ) was attempting to bargain with Mimi for her favour. *Chuckles* What a sight.

PASTIMES DONE TOGETHER? "Master Diviner Fu Xuan would frown upon it... but I suppose napping on the Seat of Divine Foresight is considered a 'pastime' when done regularly enough."

ARGUMENTS: "I do not attempt to quell the frustrations of my dearest. It is not often they disclose them to me and it does pain me to be the cause of their anger. Nevertheless, if it means the two of us will grow closer, then I will gladly offer myself to the brute force of my dearest. Of course, the swelling of regret still stains the heart."

SOMETHING TO SHARE: I've lived one life yet many all at once. Companions scattered amongst the universe and enemies whose names I've gradually forgotten. Yet, underneath the breath of my dearest, I'm simply a man in his spouse's embrace. Nothing else matters."

WHO ARE THEY? II "My most loving spouse."

EXTRA: FU XUAN'S OPINION "When Commander ( Name ) came into the Seat of Divine Foresight to help the General... he grew all the more 'lazy'. A part of me feels sympathetic towards Commander ( Name ), imagine having your own spouse bully you into doing your work? Alas, it's not my business to speak about their marital life. Besides, the two go hand in hand, like a puzzle piece clicking together. Both can do well without, but when joined together, they are a force to be reckoned with."

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐄

WHO ARE THEY? I "Their weapon may be thin, but it pierces holes even in the most... stubborn of enemies."

FIRST MEETINGS? "Elio's script is always followed. However, ( Name ) is a detail I did not anticipate or was foretold. My body met the tip of their spear before I saw their face."

GREETINGS? "Over time ( Name ) has grown close to the Stellaron Hunters- especially Kafka. Their presence is imminent despite not being a Stellaron Hunter themselves. ( Name ) smiles whenever we meet, it has always been more than enough."

PARTINGS? "My promised end will come, yet an absurd inkling of regret remains."

ABOUT US: THE BLADE "( Name ) believes the blade to be a form of art. They had said, 'The blade dances in air with undisturbed poise and precision, a kind of mercy not known to themselves.' I asked them why they chose a spear then. They replied, 'Because I could never dare replicate it's beauty.'"

ABOUT US: WOUNDS "( Name ) never wanted to be a traveller, rather, they opted to string fabrics together with a needle and thread. Perhaps that is where their skills come from."

CHAT: MIDNIGHT "The mara is like a ghost. Yet, ( Name ) is a fool. They embrace the ghost I can't seem to remember other than its bottomless spite and fear."

CHAT: SCARS "Their hands never 'keep to themselves'. ( Name ) prefers to trace their hands over surfaces and make shapes. They tend to draw stars... so many stars."

PASTIMES DONE TOGETHER? "When there are no missions, we sleep in silence. Under the guise of sleep and their warmth, immortality does not follow me."

ARGUMENTS: "When all is said and done, silence remains."

SOMTHING TO SHARE: "If there is life after death, then I wish to meet them in the same manner, again and again with that smile and spear."

WHO ARE THEY II? "The person who taught me how to breathe and pressed their lips against my skin."

EXTRA: KAFKA'S OPINION "Blade will never admit it. But, ( Name ) cares for Blade and Blade does too. The pair will never put a name to the push and pull between them. I caught Bladie once; staring out into the open universe searching for something with a spark of life that doesn't belong to a dead body. I wonder if ( Name ) put that there."

masterlist.

[roosterforme]

Vintage | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You love teasing your husband about his deep and unwavering devotion to his Bronco, but he's insistent that it would come in second place to you every time, and he intends to prove it. While you're away on deployment, he concocts a plan to get you behind the wheel of your very own vintage beauty.

Warnings: Swears, fluff, mentions of smut

Length: 2700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

"Sometimes I swear you love that thing more than you love me."

Your voice startled Bradley as he ran the wet, soapy sponge along the hood of his vintage Ford Bronco, pulling him from his thoughts. That was something you frequently said to him, jokingly claiming that you were the second love of his life. But you both knew it wasn't true. Especially not tonight.

"Hey, Baby," he whispered, coaxing you closer to him as he tossed the sponge back into the bucket. "Come here."

The setting sun painted your face with orange and gold, and he noticed the sadness in your eyes. He quickly wiped his hands on his jeans and then held them out to you, and you were in his arms in an instant. "Bradley," you mumbled against his chest as he squeezed you, getting your shirt a little damp in the process. But you didn't seem to mind. "I'm going to miss you."

Detailing and cleaning what used to be his dad's 1973 Bronco had become a way for him to relieve stress. He would get out the soap and turn on the hose when he needed a few minutes to himself. It was easier to be alone in his head, processing his thoughts and worries when he was washing the light blue masterpiece he'd spent so many years and a lot of money preserving. He always found himself in a better headspace to deal with whatever was troubling him when he spent some time with the Bronco. And today was no exception. 

"I'm going to miss you, too."

Sometimes it felt like the nearly five years you and he had been married were just spent alternating deployments. First he would be gone on an aircraft carrier for months on end, and then it would be your turn. You'd be sent abroad with the Navy before returning to him, and then the cycle would begin anew. Everything felt harder when you weren't around, and maybe that's why Bradley was out on the driveway right now instead of helping you pack for your early call time tomorrow morning. 

With your cheek pressed to his sternum, you cried softly. "It's only two months this time. And I'll have access to my phone. And I'll even be home in time for our anniversary. I don't know why I'm feeling so emotional about this."

He pressed his lips to your hair and whispered, "It's not like it gets any easier. You know that. I know that. It's going to feel like two months of hell on my end."

You sniffed hard then looked up at him with a little smirk. "At least you'll have the Bronco to keep you warm."

Bradley groaned and started to walk you backwards toward the house. "I mean, she's pretty and all, and I've definitely spent a night or two curled up around her gear shift, but I never gave her a diamond ring."

Your lips and your soft laughter against his neck sent a jolt of physical pleasure through his body, but he didn't want to rush this. He needed this to last, to hold him over for two months without your touch. Both of you tripped along to the bedroom where he smiled and whispered, "Let me show you that you're my number one girl. Let me prove you always will be."

Bradley was meticulous. He knew every inch of his Bronco, inside and out, but he knew you better. The sounds you made were prettier. The way you clung to him as he brought you pleasure was unparalleled. Your fingers laced with his as he connected his body with yours in the most intimate way, and it left him breathless.

"I love you."

-----------------------

Two days. He'd only been alone for two days, and he was already halfway through binge watching a season of a show that wasn't even that interesting. When he got home from work, he eyed up the couch and TV before ultimately changing into some sweats and heading back out to the driveway. He looked over the Bronco from hood to taillights, making a mental list of what she needed: new wiper blades, two new tires, and an oil change.

When he took his phone out to order the parts from his favorite website, he must have typed something wrong. It rerouted him to a vintage Ford resale page that left him staring at a sage green 1975 Bronco in rough condition. Man, she was still pretty though, with her original chrome and hubcaps. She was just an hour away, and the price wasn't too bad...

He glanced up at the blue gem in front of him. An idea started to take shape. He wondered how you would feel about it. With a smile, he ordered the wiper blades and oil filter that he needed and went inside to make dinner. But he couldn't stop picturing that chipped, green paint, and the vinyl that needed to be patched. 

If he knew he could get you hooked on a Bronco of your very own, he'd make this purchase. Two months to go. Shit, he might have just enough time to pull this off. He could practically picture you cranking the engine to life and waving goodbye as you pulled out of the driveway and took your Bronco for a spin. He wouldn't be able to say it with a straight face, but he'd say it anyway. "You love that thing more than you love me, Baby."

When he was stretched out on your side of the bed later that night, enveloped in your sweet scent that clung to the pillows, he closed his eyes and thought long and hard about what he wanted to do. It would be fun to prove to you once and for all where his loyalties lie. Or maybe it could just be a project that would keep him busy, and if you didn't like the idea, he could resell it after you got home. Either way, he drifted to sleep as he thought about you behind the wheel, and he knew it was too perfect to pass up.

----------------------

"Hey, Baby," Bradley said with a smirk as he answered his phone.

"Bradley! I miss you like crazy!"

"I miss you, too," he promised as he looked at the rather beat up, green Bronco before him. He got it for a great price when he offered to pay cash, and the tow truck just dropped it off a few days ago. Half of the engine was taken apart on a tarp at his feet, and it was currently jacked up so he could replace the oil pan. But he thought it was gorgeous. "I have a little surprise for you when you get home."

"A surprise?! Tell me. You know I can't wait that long."

"Nah," he said, kneeling down to check the wiring for the headlights. "I think I'll make you wait this one out."

"Rooster!"

"What?" he laughed, wedging the phone between his shoulder and his ear as he slipped his work gloves on and pulled at the loose wire. "You know, this is what you get for always giving me a hard time about my dad's Bronco. I love you so much, Baby, I'll make you wait for the surprise. It'll be sweeter that way."

"You're the worst," you groaned playfully. "Now I'll be thinking about what it could possibly be the whole time I'm gone. I'll be wondering what you have up your sleeve."

"As long as you're thinking about me, I'm happy," he rasped, and your pretty sigh in response left him a little breathless.

"I'm always thinking about you. Promise me as soon as I get back, we'll go for a long drive? Up along the coast? Late at night?"

He loved that idea. It would just look a little different than you were probably imagining if he could get this thing up and running again in time for your return. "We'll make a night of it," he promised. "I'll pack some blankets, and we can sit in the back and look out at the ocean. Can't guarantee I'll be able to keep my hands to myself though."

"Mmm. That's what I'm counting on."

----------------------

After about two weeks of watching a lot of YouTube videos posted by professionals, Bradley finally had the engine rebuilt. He was just waiting for some parts to arrive before he could put it back in place. "You're a needy one, aren't you?" he asked the green Bronco. "Nothing like her. She's a saint." He nodded his head toward the blue one before kneeling to replace the taillights. 

He was quickly realizing that the money he saved on the cost of the actual vehicle was being eaten up in the expensive, vintage parts. He was lucky he knew how to do most of this himself, even if it took twice as long. Today he was replacing the brakes and listening to a Motown playlist, and he fully realized that he felt calmest when he was with you or a Bronco. He snorted at how ridiculous that fact was as he scooted under the vehicle, but it was true. And having you tucked away in the back with the tailgate dropped, all wrapped up in a blanket while you turned him on just by existing.... well, that's when he would be happiest of all.

As the weeks wore on and the project progressed, the day finally arrived when it was time to try to start her up and take her for a little drive. Everything smelled like new rubber from the tires he'd just put on. The vinyl seats were still in bad shape, but when he slipped the key into the ignition and turned it, the engine purred to life.

Bradley's head tipped back as he groaned softly. "So fucking pretty. My god." He tapped the accelerator gently with his foot, enjoying the rev of the engine. He smoothed his hands along the steering wheel and the dashboard before he adjusted the rear view mirror to accommodate his height. Then he flicked the chrome switch and turned on the radio which he was surprised still worked.

My Girl by the Temptations poured from the speakers as the station crackled to life, and that felt like a very good sign. "Let's get out of here, Sweetheart," he whispered before shifting into reverse and leaving the driveway and his toolbox behind.

She was smooth and steady and everything he was hoping for. Would it ever fully compete with Goose's Bronco? Probably not. Was it worth the investment anyway? He'd find out next week when you got home. There were just a few things left to do before he dropped it off to be repainted and have the interior patched, and then she'd be good as new.

Bradley's phone rang in his pocket, and he smiled when he saw it was you. "Hey, Baby."

"Bradley! I miss you so much. I swear, if this thing was longer than two months, I wouldn't make it. What are you up to?"

"Oh, I'm just out for a little drive."

--------------------------

After eight weeks of nothing more than a few scant phone calls, Bradley was more than ready to have you home again. Maybe you and he could take a few days off from work. He'd help you catch up on some sleep after initially keeping you up all night. He already had some blankets ready to go as soon as you said you wanted to drive up to Carlsbad and watch the surfers at sunset before making love in the back of your Bronco.

Your Bronco. His wife's Bronco. It would take some getting used to, but it already made him smile every time he thought about it. With his hands on that familiar steering wheel, he drove toward the Naval base where both of you spent so much of your time. He waited, leaning against the light blue hood until you came running toward him in your uniform with your bags.

"Bradley!" you shrieked as you landed in his arms where you belonged. 

"I missed you," he promised, finally kissing your lips again after so many weeks. He felt your bag hit his foot, and he smiled as he tilted your face up for better access to your mouth.

"I missed you, too," you moaned softly, and he was already making the move to get you back home and remind you what you meant to him. But you dug your feet in outside the passenger door. 

"Where's my surprise?" you asked as you tucked your fingers into the top of his jeans and grinned up at him. "I've been thinking about it nonstop. Is it you?"

"No," he replied with a chuckle as his gaze drifted toward the Bronco. "You'll see soon enough."

You glanced at where he was looking, and you rolled your eyes before kissing his chin. "Did she keep you company while I was gone? She looks pristine, like you spend some time working on her."

Bradley kissed your forehead. "Just get in, Baby," he rasped. "The sooner we get home, the sooner your little surprise will make sense."

He knew the routine by heart now. The short ride home would start out with you holding his right hand and playing with his fingers while he drove. Then your hand would migrate to his thigh when the Bronco was about five blocks away. Then as soon as the tires touched the driveway, you'd unbuckle your seatbelt and make your way over to his lap.

The routine was important to him. He loved it. He loved taking you inside and directly to bed before coming back out much later to get the bags. He thrived on the return to normal life that was triggered by the routine. But today, he knew you weren't going to end up on his lap, and that was more than okay.

When your hand settled on his thigh exactly five blocks away from home, Bradley smiled. Your fingers crept up inch by inch as you leaned closer and whispered in his ear that you had their fifth wedding anniversary all planned out for the following weekend. You were playing with the zipper of his jeans by the time he could see the house, and he just waited for it. He was not disappointed.

"What the fuck is that?" you gasped, both hands going to the dashboard in front of you as you leaned to check out the freshly painted green Bronco as he coasted into the driveway. "Bradley?" you asked, glancing at him with wide eyes as he shifted into park.

He smiled and leaned over to kiss your softly parted lips. "This is your surprise. You're always joking about how much I love my Bronco, but I'll never love anything more than I love you."

You pressed your lips to his once before pulling away, shaking your head slightly. "So you got me one of my own?" you asked, jerking your thumb toward the green one.

He nodded and pulled his key from the ignition before pressing it into your palm. "Yep. She's all yours."

"Wait," you whispered, your brow creasing in confusion as you looked down at your hand. "This is your key."

"No, it's your key. The key to the green one is in the house. That's my key."

You gaped at him as your eyebrows shot upwards. "You're giving me your Bronco?"

"Yep."

"But," you whispered, turning to look out the window, "I can drive the other one."

"No, I bought the green one with myself in mind," he replied, taking your chin gently in his hand so you were looking at him again. "This one's better. She's sweet. Like you. She's yours."

"Oh my god, Bradley."

He was wrong; you did end up in his lap. Right where you belonged. His hands settled at your hips as you kissed every inch of his face while he laughed.

"I want to take her for a spin," you whispered, nudging him out of the driver's seat with your knee. "Go."

He smiled as he walked around to the passenger side of the blue Bronco, and he barely had the door closed before you started the engine and shifted into gear. "Pretty soon you'll love this thing more than you love me, Baby."

---------------------------

He gave you his Bronco. The green one was for him. That's how you know he loves you. I hope they do some nasty shit in the green one to break it in. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

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@noz4a2

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@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

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@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

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@lyn-js

@marve2014

@furiousladyking

[soobnny]

ten things hwang hyunjin says when he thinks you’re asleep — fluff, established relationship, a twitch of angst

chan | lee know | changbin | HYUNJIN | han | felix | seungmin | jeongin

just released a lee know long fic if you guys are interested to read! :)

one. it's been exactly a year since i picked up my paint brush again. god, i still remember when i thought i'd forever let go of art. i've learned to trade my dreams for security anyway, there was no point in indulging in something i had no future in. but then i met you, and i will never forget the moment i realized i was in love with you. that night, i painted until the sun was up. thank you for inspiring me again, my muse.

two. you hold light wherever you go, did you know? that same light you see in others lives inside of you too. i will make sure you know that, even if i have to tell you every day.

three. i think you look prettiest when you laugh and you think no one's looking at you. it always fills me with a warmth i've never known.

four. you make life so achingly beautiful for me.

five. ah, i feel so sentimental tonight. i guess, it's just the thought that years ago, i had my heart broken and i thought it could never get better from there. but you helped me make it whole again. maybe all that heartbreak was always meant to point me to where you are. thank you. thank you. thank you.

six. the loud voices in my head are a little quieter now. i think it's because of you.

seven. remember when chan had convinced us to go hiking with him and his significant other? oh my god, that was a disaster. and i know we said we'd never do it again, but some part of me wants to. maybe it's for the view, or the way you looked when we finally reached the top. you looked so beautiful. i really did feel a great deal of comfort being with you where the whole world didn't know. i didn't even think about the exhausting hike back. just that you were there, the only thing that makes sense to me, beside me. you said you hated it because you paled out, but beautiful things pale out—the sunrise, flowers, you. you’re the most beautiful of them all.

eight. i hope you love me as much as i love you.

nine. you will always have me. please don't ever doubt how i feel for you. i will always choose you, over and over and over again, in every lifetime. without doubt, without hesitation, without second thought. i will always choose you. again and again and again.

ten. i can't believe i've finally found the love i've been yearning for all my life. thank you. i love you. i'm a better person because of you. meeting you was the best thing to ever happen to me.

[afterglowkatie]

little starfish meets starfish | k.m/c.f.

katie mccabe x caitlin foord x child!reader | 2k | how you got your name, aquarium visits and meeting your favourite sea creature

ˏˋ°•*⁀ this is part of my new little starfish universe. i've had this written for a little while now with the second part already almost finished. first child!reader fic! so! i hope you all like it! (reader is katie's kid from before katie and caitlin)

‘Mammy, mammy!’ Your little voice rang out loudly throughout the car, ‘Did you know you like a starfish?’ Kicking your little legs around, excited to tell your mammy the new fact you’d recently learnt.

You’d become obsessed with starfish the moment you saw one in a nature documentary that had been on the tv at the time. Stars and animals were your favourite things separately, and to find out that there was a sea creature shaped like a star had blown your little mind. 

Since then Katie helped you fill out your room with all different starfish items, a little starfish night light, bed spread of sea animals that included starfish of course. You’d even begged your mammy to paint your walls blue with little starfish to match the glow in the dark stars that littered the roof of your bedroom.

One day your mammy came home with a colouring book she’d found, all different kinds of starfish and little facts on each page. Katie and Caitlin both helped you read the facts, soon enough you were able to read them all on your own. Proudly getting to tell them both all the new facts you learnt on each page.

‘Oh, am I now?’ Katie glanced back in your direction briefly before looking back at the road, an amused smile on her lips. 

‘Mhm,’ You sang out a little, ‘They got tough skin, keeps all the baddies away. Like you mammy you keep all the baddies away from the ball,’ Both Katie and Caitlin stifled their laughter at your comparison. They both loved watching you grow up and how your mind worked. 

‘You got that right, my little starfish, no one gets that ball off me,’ Caitlin rolled her eyes at Katie’s smug expression giving her a little nudge. You always helped inflate your mammy’s ego, even if you didn’t know it, you genuinely just thought that everything your mammy did was the best in the world. 

‘Mammy’s the best,’ You smiled proudly, repeating the phrase you had on the little sign that you took to every match. Caitlin had helped you make it, you wanted it to be a surprise for your mammy. 

Despite how much Katie tried, you weren’t that interested in football, only if your mammy was on the pitch. If she wasn’t then you’d have to have something to keep yourself preoccupied or you’d gravitate towards Kyra and Laia. They both listened to your random facts, Laia even giving you new ones every now and then, you claimed them both to be the fun ones and they’d always rope you in to cause a little bit of mischief. 

‘You know, little starfish, they’ve got little touch pools at this aquarium,’ Caitlin turned around in her seat to look at you. Your eyebrows scrunching into a little frown and your head slightly tilted to the side, the frown alone there was no doubt you were Katie’s daughter.

‘What's that Caity?’ You wiggled your feet a little, intrigued by what Caitlin was about to tell you.

‘Touch pools have different sea animals, like starfish,’ Your eyes widened a little upon hearing your favourite sea creature being mentioned, ‘And they let you touch the creatures in the little pools,’ Your eyes widened to the point they looked like they might pop out of your head, you thought what Caitlin had told you was the coolest thing ever.

Though a frown was quick to take over your face again, ‘Does it hurt them?’ You didn’t want to accidentally hurt something that you loved so much.

‘No, no. You just have to be really gentle,’ Caitlin was quick to reassure you.

‘Mammy?’ Not that you didn’t trust Caitlin, but you believed your mammy knew everything and if she said the same thing then you know that it’s the truth.

‘Little starfish, Caitlin’s right. Just be gentle with them, like how you’re gentle with Myle and they’ll love you the same,’ You beamed at the mention of your favourite dog, your best buddy as you call Myle, though you couldn’t say that to Steph but Calvin was a little too big for you but you still liked him.

‘We there yet mammy?’ You whined already wanting to be at the aquarium so you could see your favourite creatures. As soon as Katie stopped the car in the aquarium parking you were tugging at your seatbelt and kicking your legs trying to escape your car seat. 

‘Now remember, no running and stay close to either of us. We don’t wanna lose you,’ Your mammy reminded you while she was getting you out of your car seat. 

‘You won’t lose me mammy, you find me with the starfishes,’ You gave your mammy a cheeky little smile, one that you’d learnt from Kyra, though your mammy didn’t back down instead raising her eyebrow at you, ‘Fine mammy, can we please go now please,’ 

You liked the staff at the aquarium, they gave you a little map and a sheet to find different items within the aquarium and fill it out so you’d get a little prize at the end of the day. Caitlin helped you write down the answers while your mammy kept trying to wrangle you and make sure you stayed hydrated while you were running, no you were walking fast just like you told both Katie and Caitlin multiple times, everywhere.

‘Woah slow down little one,’ Your mammy scooped you up when you tried to run off, it was a blessing and a curse that you knew how to read and associate that the little starfish symbol on the sign meant that’s the touch pools and the place you wanted to go the most, ‘There’s plenty of time to see everything,’

‘But I want to see the starfish,’ You wriggled in your mammy’s arms but you weren’t strong enough yet, one day you will be, ‘Caity,’ Accepting your fate with your mammy, you looked towards Caitlin, your best pout and puppy eyes you could muster. You learnt quickly that Caitlin would give in to you more easily than your mammy, especially when their relationship was still new and she wanted to be on your good side. 

‘How about a little snack and then we can go straight there,’ Caitlin gave you a soft smile before tickling your stomach. Laughing loudly, as if on cue your stomach grumbled as well, making you laugh even more.

The stop for a snack seemed to calm you down a little, you were still excited but you weren’t bouncing around almost out of control. You held onto both Katie and Caitlin’s hands, they’d lift you up and swing you every few steps. They both loved the sound of your little giggles filling the space around them.

The little touch pools were quiet when you eventually got there, just you, your mammy, your caity, a staff member and one other kid and their parents. You held onto your mammy’s hand quite tightly while the staff member was explaining and demonstrating how to safely touch the little sea creatures within the little pools in front of you.

‘Would you like to try now?’ The staff member’s voice was soft and kind, but you still semi hid behind Caitlin’s arm. The emphasis on being gently and soft got to your head a little bit, you didn’t want to be anything other than gentle and soft but you were still a little worried.

‘You okay little starfish?’ Caitlin was the one to notice just how quiet you were, quite unusual for you, in that sense you were just like your mammy. You peaked one eye out from behind Caitlin’s arm to look at her while she brushed some of the baby hairs back from your face. You were still holding Katie’s hand, even tighter than before.

‘What if I hurt them, Caity?’ At the sight of tears welling in your eyes, Caitlin picked you up, sitting you on her hip. Rocking you a little and rubbing your back despite the fact you wouldn’t let go of Katie’s hand either.

‘It’ll be okay, just be gentle like how you pat Myle. We can do it together,’  You calmed down at Caitlin’s words, leaning your head against her shoulder while you looked down at the sea creatures in front of you.

You’d finally let go of your mammy’s hand, watching closely as Caitlin put her hand into the water in front of you. Your own little hand soon followed, dipping into the water and hovering above one of the starfish that was in the pool. Caitlin took your hand in hers and helped you gently touch the starfish until you were sure you could do it on your own.

Katie watched from the side, a wide smile on her face as she watched your eyes light up as soon as your hand made contact with the starfish. She watched a little bit longer, taking a few photos of both you and Caitlin together, it always melted her heart a little bit more every interaction the two of you had.

The longer you touched the starfish the more you were committing to memory the feeling. You didn’t really have much to go by when you were trying to think of how a starfish might feel beforehand, you thought since they lived in water then they must be soft and squishy, even though you knew the fact about them being tough but you didn’t really understand that until you got to experience it.

‘I did it mammy!’ Your hand was still dripping from the water while you turned towards her, a proud smile on your face.

‘Proud of my little starfish, what a cool experience,’ Caitlin let you down gently, a good thing she was holding you or you probably would’ve ended up in the pool with the starfish, you made your way to your mammy who picked you up. Holding you close while she walked you away from the pools, letting other kids have their turn. 

The excitement of the day quickly washed over you and being in Katie’s arms your body was more tired than you realised. Katie and Caitlin shared a knowing look when you let out a little yawn and rested your head face down on Katie’s shoulder. You were fast asleep by the time they made their way to the exit. Katie took you to the car while Caitlin picked out a few things for you from the gift shop, even if you were asleep they couldn’t let you leave empty handed.

‘I hate having to wake her up, she always looks so peaceful,’ Your mammy whispered to Caitlin, who agreed, before gently picking you up from your car seat and carrying you inside the house.

Katie sat down on the couch briefly, rocking you gently, keeping you asleep while Caitlin sat down the bags from today before grabbing your favourite pyjamas and filling the bath up for you. Making sure the temperature was just right, though the little starfish bath toys she got for you today can wait another day, she still made sure to put bubbles in the bath.

‘Baby, everything’s ready for you,’ Caitlin gently sat next to the two of you, leaning in quickly and softly giving Katie a kiss while wrapping an arm around her. Both your mammy and Caitlin sat there watching how peaceful you looked after a big day. A moment of peace your household got to experience, if it wasn’t for the big day you and Cooper would be zooming around everywhere, ‘I’ll get her water bottle and bed ready,’ 

Katie whispered a soft thank you, kissing Caitlin’s cheek before she took you to the bathroom, ‘Hey my little starfish,’ Your mammy was always soft with you, especially when she would have to wake you up. Though you were so tired you barely acknowledged the bath, barely playing with or noticing the bubbles. 

So Katie was as quick as she could be, wrapping you up in your soft shark hooded towel and getting you dressed so you’d stay warm. You woke up a bit when you noticed you had a new friend in your bed. You grabbed the new starfish plushie, smiling as much as you could in your tired state, holding it close to you. 

You looked to your mammy who gave a little nod towards Caitlin, which you understood, ‘Thank you Caity,’ You mumbled quietly before drifting off to sleep. Only dreams of your new friend in your arms and of the starfish you got to meet.

[osachiyo]

❥ ҉ ༄ PRETTIEST WHEN YOU CRY !

﹙ ✿ ﹚── includes : dazai, chuuya, akutagawa, fyodor, nikolai x fem!reader ♡

﹙ ✿ ﹚── content warnings : nsfw content, dacryphilia, rough sex, unprotected sex, choking, bondage (rashomon I'm so sorry girl), sadism, petnames, degradation, spanking, edging, mentions of murder in nikolai's etc ♡

﹙ ✿ ﹚── synopsis : you're a crybaby and they love it ♡

﹙ ✿ ﹚── author's note : this one won the poll so here it is! I might do a bimbo reader one so keep an eye out for that 👀 ♡

DAZAI ☆⌒(>。<;)

This guy basically read you like a book the first time you two met. He knew that you were a very emotional person, and he liked that about you. It was very different from himself, considering he hides his emotions most, if not all of the time. So it was a nice and much needed change.

When he first learned that you were very emotional in bed aswell, he definitely used that against you. I mean, how could he not? Watching the fat tear drops running down your pretty eyes made his cock throb in a sick, twisted way and he loved it. He would make you sob his name out until your voice is hoarse, then cradle you like a baby in his arms and mutter soft words of praise to you. Telling you how good you are for him, taking his cock so nicely.

"don't tell me you're tapping out already, sweet girl?" Dazai hummed, tracing little shapes on your hip as you lay there, face buried into the pillows as they dampen with your tears. He had you in a prone bone, hips laying flush against your ass. "can't t-take it!" You hiccuped, body jolting when he grinds his hips into yours, "yes, you can, baby. I've barely started, you can definitely take more," he chuckled, laying soft kisses on your shoulder blades to help you ease up a bit. You moaned out when he thrusted into you a bit harder, hips smacking against your plush ass. Your pretty painted nails were scratching his linen sheets, almost ripping the fabric. Dazai's hand curled around your figure, reaching to play with your swollen clit. You gasped when he bit down on your shoulder, now moving his hips erratically while he chased his impending orgasm. You could feel his hot breath against your ear when he moaned lowly next to your ear, "god─ you feel amazing, 'donna," he bit your lobe playfully, fingers working wonders on your clit as his cock hits your sweet spot repeatedly. He needed to make you cum, needed to see his pretty girl gush on his cock. He slightly angled his hips and oh. You let out an almost guttural moan, head laying limp on the pillow as your back arches for him, tears still falling freely from your eyes. Looks like he finally found it, found the spot that make you go stupid and he wasn't gonna stop anytime soon.

CHUUYA ☆⌒(>。<;)

That one time you went on a first date with Chuuya was..interesting. Well, more embarrassing on your part but that's okay. He had taken you to see a movie. A character had died in the movie, it was definitely sad but Chuuya wasn't that affected. He heard little sniffles from his side, so when he turned to you and saw a fountain of tears dripping down your face and you struggling to stiffle your whimpers, he was a bit concerned. He asked if you were okay— but then you started bawling out. He took you to a fancy ice cream parlour later to make you feel better <3

Chuuya always treats you like you're made out of glass, thinking even the slightest pressure will shatter you, and that's applies to your bedroom activities with him aswell. He'd caress your body with the most gentle touch, shushing your cries and kissing your tears away.

Your legs were propped up on Chuuya's strong shoulders, hair splayed out on the sheets and some of it sticking to your forehead, framing your face beautifully. You were like an angel to him, downright heavenly. An angel in the grasp of a devil? He huffed out a laugh at that, the noise vibrating against your sopping cunt. His gloved hands gripped your thighs like a vice, fingers sinking in the soft flesh. His swollen lips kiss your clit gently, tongue poking out to taste you and fuck, he could do this for hours. His tongue breached past your gooey hole, nose bumping against your clit as you clutch the dark red sheets in your hands, tears stinging your glossy eyes while you shudder from the pleasure of your boyfriend feasting on you. "mmh— taste so good, doll," he muttered, eyes flicking up to make contact with your tear-soaked ones, groaning into your cunt when he sees the cute pout you wore. "f-feels good, 'chuu," you gasped, head thrown back in ecstasy when he wrapped his lipstick stained lips around your clit, encircling a finger against your hole. When did he take his gloves off? Your vision was hazy, stomach clenching and unclenching when he pushed two fingers into you, curling them just right to make you see stars. His lips leave your clit to leave bite marks on your inner thighs, pinning them down firmly when you try to close them. "nuh-uh, baby. you're gonna take everything I give you, okay?" You could only nod in response, sniffling as the tears drip down your chin. He couldn't help but hump the bed at the sight of your tears flowing freely, snot running down your nose as you try your best to stay still and more importantly, be a good girl for him. You were just too fucking adorable.

AKUTAGAWA☆⌒(>。<;)

He was genuinely so confused when you started crying because he was going to leave on a mission for 4 days. He actually thought you were possessed or something at first but you had to explain to him that no, you were not in fact possessed but just a very sensitive person. He thought you were stupid for crying like that, it's not like he's leaving forever. Actually had the audacity to tell you to get over it and stop being a baby....typical Akutagawa...

Made up to you later because gin smacked the shit outta him.

Akutagawa came home late that night, the aura around him seemed...wrong. It felt like he was angry or upset at something. You poked your head out slightly from the ajar door of your shared bedroom, watching him mutter random curses and mentioning a name you had heard many times before, 'weretiger'. You quietly walked towards him, wrapping your arms around his torso from behind, resting your back against his back. He stayed still for a few moments before you felt something whip out from under his coat, wrapping around your limbs and slamming you against the wall. He turned around, finally facing you. His eyes were darkened with lust and..something you couldn't really understand. That's the last coherent thought you had before—

You thrashed around, trying to break free of the bounding but it's no use, it's grip was tight, and firm. A fragile thing like you couldn't even land a scratch on it. All you could do was stay still and endure Akutagawa pounding your cunt, a lewd mix of your slick and his precum formed a puddle on the carpeted floor. A tendril of the cloth had been draped around your eyes, turning you blind for the moment, making you all the more sensitive to your lover's rough touch. His cock continuously brushed against the spongy spot inside your velvety walls, rendering you a mess at his mercy. His rough hands were pinching and pulling at your nipples, coaxing broken moans out of you. You could feel your voice getting hoarse from screaming his name out so much. His hip bones were jabbing against your own, little curses and grunts slipping out of his pale lips, which were swollen and slightly red from him biting them so much. His hand reached everywhere he could, desperate to force more moans and tears of pleasure out of you. How he loved seeing you cry because of him, your glassy eyes swollen and red from crying so much, bottom lip jutted out into a pout as you wail from the painful pleasure he's enforcing upon you. "shut up and take it," he'd growl, feeling you clench on his cock. He loved you, he really did, but he loved your tears just as much.

FYODOR ☆⌒(>。<;)

'Easy manipulation'. That's what Fyodor thought to himself when he first met you. He liked how easy to control you were. He barely even had to pull a few strings to make you fall head over heels for him. He was thinking of just using you for his own benefit, but alas, he had caught himself falling for you. He was a bit annoyed at first, but quickly realized he could just keep you forever and you wouldn't even mind.

Like Dazai, he'd also use your tears against you in bed. Of course, you were his lovely angel and he adored you, but it wasn't his fault you looked so pretty when you cried, was it? He was a man, after all, he couldn't ignore the urges clawing at the back of his mind.

That's why you were splayed out on his bed, legs wrapped around his hips as he fucks into your sopping heat. His hair was tied in a loose ponytail, that you did on him earlier. His bangs were brushing against your sweaty forehead. He leaned back to admire the addicting view of tears flowing out of your pretty eyes like a river, the droplets looking like shiny jewels. The area around your eyes were slightly red and puffy from crying, but he didn't relent. "does it feel good, milaya?" His lips curved into a smirk, placing gentle kisses on your ankles as he grinds his hips into you. "please— fedya! 'wanna cum so bad!—ngh—" you sobbed, nails digging into his pristine sheets while you buck your hips up, trying to reach your orasgm. Fyodor only tutted, completely stopping his hips as he feigns a disappointed look, "you can do better than that, darling," his hand reaches down to thumb at your clit, forcing a moan out of you. "please! 't hurts! please make me cum, 'wanna cum on your cock so bad, plea—" he cut you off with a thrust of his hips, seemingly satisfied with your pathetic begging. You sobbed out his name repeatedly, eyes shut as he wraps a slender hand around your throat, fucking into you with much vigour than before. If you weren't so cockdrunk, you'd hear how hard the headboard was slamming against the wall, bed creaking with each brutal thrust. Your eyes rolled back when your orgasm approached closer, the coil in your stomach about to snap when— you wailed when he stopped thrusting again, cutting off the path to your sweet, sweet orgasm. He only laughed at your whining, a low moan rumbling in his chest when your cunt tightened around him. Unfortunately for you, torturing you was way too fun for him.

NIKOLAI ☆⌒(>。<;)

This man is a fucking menace. He'd do anything and everything to see you cry, and you make it so easy for him that he does it all the time. But only he's allowed to make you cry. If anyone else dares to make you shed your pretty tears, he'd rip their head off, put it in a pretty little present box and send it on your doorstep. He'd relish in the horrified face you make after opening the box, tears gathering in your bottom lashline at the terrifying sight. He'd take you out later as an apology though <33

He thinks you are absolutely adorable, his precious little dove. Corrupting someone like you is definitely his fortè, he loves it. One of the things he loves to do the most is punishing you. Be it overstimulation, edging, spanking or all of them, he enjoys every single one. Even if you haven't done anything wrong, he'd randomly pull you onto his lap and tell you to count before spanking you until your ass is red and sore, you'd cry your eyes out form the pain but it felt so good at the same time.

You guess thats how you ended up in this predicament, face down and ass up as Nikolai fucks you into the mattress. His hand was buried in your hair, shoving your head further down on the pillow beneath you as he slammed into you over and over again at a borderline inhuman pace. His other hand was gripping your hip tightly, occasionally slapping the soft fat of your ass. He snickered at your dumb babbles of pure ecstasy, drooling on the pillow as he fucked you raw. He's been at this for hours, fucking orgasm after orgasm out of you and all you could do was lay there and take it like the good little doll you were. Sobs wracked through your entire body when his hand came down to the sore flesh of your ass again, and fuck did it sting like a bitch. He kneaded the plush fat in his large hand as an apology but it only made it hurt more and he knew that. You felt like passing out from the sheer exhaustion settling in your bones, a hand making its way to press against Kolya's abdomen, trying to get him to stop or atleast slow down, "kolya— 'm gonna pass out!" you sobbed, clinging onto the pillow with one hand for dear life. He smacked your hand away from his abdomen, only thrusting into you harder, "aww~ you're gonna pass out?" He cooed, reaching his hand out to grip your chin, turning your head to face him. You nodded, sniffling as he kissed your tears away, "then pass out~♡"

©sachiyoh— do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, reblogs are very appreciated♡

TAGS 𖤐 @zaiisamu @mellieellie @reyanne @anastaxiah @crystalzxv0 @shiopi @dazaiserectnips @r-e-m-i @jjflipflop12 @jay--feather @deepstrawberrycreator @simp4bsdcharacters @dazaisimpletmereadfanficspls @tojiscardboardboxx @kemis-world @stygianoir @vrivl1 @rei-pearl @lovleyyz

[tamberella]

Congratulations on your author debut, I'm so excited for your book!! 😇💕

Would you consider talking about the whole process of becoming a book illustrator /children's book author?

Thank you so much, I really appreciate it!! And I'd be happy to share the process!

It all started for me with my 3dTotal artbook. 3dTotal is a small publisher in the UK, and they mainly focus on collections of artists' work. They use Kickstarter to fund each book, and my agent (the amazing Seth Fishman at Gernert) discovered me through the Kickstarter for my artbook Windows to Worlds!

He asked if I had any interest in working on graphic novels or picture books, and I had already been thinking about picture books! He found me my first picture book project with Penguin Workshop, Mother of Sharks, written by the awesome Melissa Cristina Márquez, which came out last year!

While I was working on Mother of Sharks, I was also talking with him about developing The Bakery Dragon, based of course on this painting, which was (and is) one of my proudest artistic moments.

For a little background on the painting, I painted it right after a really challenging couple of months medically - I was dealing with medical complications from my chronic illness for about 6 months, and I wasn't able to finish a single painting the whole time, I was just too exhausted from hospital visits and being in pain. That painting was the first piece I was able to actually complete (both emotionally and literally) in about half a year. So it always held a really special place in my heart, and I really wanted to keep living in that little world. I think there's something in it that is very special to me, about being outside in the cold, seeing warmth and love through a glass barrier, and wanting desperately to reach it.

With Seth's guidance, over a couple months, I developed a pitch for it. The script developed slowly alongside the designs for characters, locations, etc.

(Early version of Ember above! He has changed a bit!)

I thought I had already read a lot of picture books, I've always loved them, but I read hundreds and hundreds during this process. There is something uniquely fun and challenging about telling a complete narrative in 48 pages (which is already a long picture book, many are 32!) My book also pulls some elements from comics, such as speech bubbles, which I found to be incredible assets for humor and character development.

My pitch included designs, some early example spreads, and a rough script with story beats and jokes! My agent took it out into the world, and the publisher we ended up going forward with was Knopf, an imprint of Penguin Random House! I absolutely love the Knopf team and the beautiful books they put out! My editor, Katherine Harrison, really understood what I wanted to accomplish and has been so incredibly helpful in her guidance!

And from there... through rewrites, dialog adjustments, and lots and lots of drawings, it became a book! I'm happy to answer questions about the process! I'll leave you guys with a little preview from the interior of the book! (And of course you can pre-order it here, gotta learn the author skill of always including that link haha!)

[ghost-proofbaby]

when you know, you know. (e.m.)

summary: air hockey has never been so romantic.

warnings: it's alluded to that reader is wearing red lipstick. not edited.

pairing: eddie munson x reader

wc: 1.8k+

a/n: a very late valentine's day gift for you all (and eddie). also, the fact i've never written proper mechanic eddie... what a shame.

“Yes!” 

If any of the nearby children flinched, you didn’t notice. You were too wrapped up in your victory, going as far as to partake in a terribly embarrassing dance on your end of the air hockey table as Eddie shakes his head slowly. 

“You definitely cheated,” he deadpans, a twitch of a smile nearly giving him away as he leans down to pick the puck out of the slot below on his end, “There’s no way you’re about to beat me in under five minutes, again.” 

You smile, lips painted red under the lowlights of the arcade as you lean over the table and taunt him, “Or maybe it’s just a skill issue. I wouldn’t keep beating you if you were actually a professional in air hockey like you’d claimed, Munson.” 

Three dates – tonight makes four – and you still hadn’t quite worked out how you’d managed to capture the attention of the boy before you. When he’d originally asked you out to coffee, you’d swallowed down all your excessive excitement just to answer him. The local mechanic that you’d been making heart eyes at every few months when you’d go in for an oil check, the one who hadn’t allowed the others at the shop to oversell you on a damn thing when you’d get your tires rotated. Who always smiled shyly as he’d bring you back your keys.

You’d figured the coffee date would last an hour if you were lucky. The two of you would spend more than five minutes in the same room together, he’d realize how overbearing you were, and that would be the end of it. Ridiculous crush effectively squashed. 

But it hadn’t. 

It had lasted hours, plural. Coffees finished and second lattes nursed until they’d gone cold, the outcome had been the exact opposite of your expectations. Your conversation had flowed effortlessly, common ground and common interests found with ease, and suddenly, Eddie was more than just some cute mechanic for your friends to tease you over. 

The first date had only ended due to his shift at the shop that afternoon. 

The subsequent sushi dinner date, and then the movie night the next week, had also lasted hours. 

“For someone who works on cars, you should be a lot better with your hands,” you poke gentle fun at him as he makes the first hit against the puck this time, far more careful than you had been when serving. 

“Or maybe I’m just determined to keep letting my pretty date win.” 

“And why would you ever do that?” 

Another hit from your mallet, the sharp tapping of your aggressive push ringing out over the sound of nearby machines. You don’t dare to glance in the direction of the ruckus, but you’re pretty sure someone has just won an exciting amount of tickets based on the squeals of glee. 

“I dunno,” Eddie pauses to shrug after he hits the puck once more, his guard dropping. You’re ruthless as you take the opportunity to shoot the puck straight into ‘goal’ on his side of the table. A straight shot, far too easy for your liking, but you still celebrate the victory with another embarrassing dance, “Maybe it’s because I’m into that ridiculous dance they keep doing whenever they score.” 

You immediately stop your little jumps, eyes widening, a rush of embarrassment heating you up from the inside out as Eddie’s eyes stay glued on you. The table powers down as he makes his way around it, feet bringing him right to you. 

You’d always thought Eddie would find you weird, or odd, or unappealing after that coffee date, but the outcome had been better than you could have possibly conceived.

He was an absolute weirdo as well. 

Fondness overtakes his features just like it had on that coffee date when you’d accidentally snorted at one of his jokes, and your heart flutters eagerly. You can’t believe there had been a time you’d only watch him from behind glass, trying to not get caught as you would blatantly stare at him as he’d work on your car. A time when you’d only see his curls up in loose buns rather than framing his face as they were now, a time when you couldn’t even shake his hand due to it being covered in oil. 

That had all only been a month ago, but you already couldn’t imagine your life without Eddie Munson in it. 

“Don’t go shy on me now,” he chuckles as he stops in front of you, smirk deepening the dimples you’d only noticed on your second date with him. He’d been too bashful the first date, ducking whenever his grin would grow too wide on you, biting his tongue on half the flirtatious remarks you wished he would have said. “You won, fair and square, so what’s your prize gonna be, valentine?” 

He also waited until the second date to kiss you. That had nearly killed you. 

“It’s not very fair if you let me win,” you whisper, unable to look away from his eyes. They’re a soft brown, a smooth honey, a nice sight for sore eyes. You kind of like the crinkles beside them, too. Kind of wonder what it would be like to wake up beside him, roll over, and kiss them – all before the sun ever rose. 

He reaches out and gingerly grabs your hand, calloused fingertips brushing your knuckles before he entangles your fingers with his. “Psh, who said I let you win? Maybe I just really suck at air hockey.”

“You just-”

You never get to finish your argument. He’s quick to swoop down, capturing your lips in his. The rudest of interruptions, and it still manages to weaken your knees. 

Each kiss only grows sweeter. And more confident, more sure. The first one had been timid, exchanged on your doorstep with boyish hesitation and meek desperation. But now, several kisses experienced since that night, all apprehension has melted. He lets his lips meld to yours, captures your bottom lip just tightly enough to give it a brief tug when he pulls away. Still soft, ever so sweet, and leaving you wanting for more. 

Four dates. All it took was four dates for him to make you a goner. 

“Now, that wasn’t fair,” you breathe out, betrayed by the smile that you wear. Your chest feels shaken up, impending explosion of mushiness and flowers and hearts and every single cliche the love songs on the radio could squeeze out.

“It was your prize.”

“I never said I wanted a kiss for my prize.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he puts a dramatic hand up to his chest, leaning back so dramatically that your hand instinctively reaches out to loop a finger in his jean pocket to keep him upright, “Would you like me to take it back, my fair maiden?” 

Four dates, and he makes it impossible to not imagine a future of this. Of silly banter, of gentle mornings spent kissing away crows feet, of cutting one another off with the most infuriating of methods. You’re starting to believe you’re just a hopeless romantic, and he’d spotted that from a mile away – he knew every single button to press to have you putty in his hands, and he was taking full advantage of it. 

You giggle, an honest to God giggle, as you say, “Hm, I’m not sure. I heard the return policies on those are a bit wonky.” 

If your friends thought you were insufferable when he was some stranger you just had a crush on, they would be vomiting at the sight of this. 

He leans into your space, close enough to smell his faint cologne and mint on his breath, “Are they? Well, lucky for you, I’m friends with the shop owner. Can definitely accept the return without a receipt. It won’t be a problem, ma’am. I swear it.”

He’s weird. He’s goofier than you could have imagined, snarkier than you could have dreamed, and more romantic than you had yet to uncover. He’s kind of perfect, but you wouldn’t dare say that to his face. Not yet, at least. 

You’re glad you had said yes when he’d asked days prior for you to be his Valentine. And you’re glad he hadn’t gone the boring route, showing up with just chocolates and flowers and calling it a day, but had instead dragged you out to this arcade for a night of adventures as he claimed. 

“And how would one go about returning a kiss, kind sir?” 

He answers wordlessly, bringing up a finger to tap on his lips. He goes as far as pouting them dramatically. 

He wants you to kiss him. 

Lucky for him, you want to kiss him, too. 

Your kiss is more chaste. Teasing as you lift up onto your tippy toes and only press your lips to his for a brief second before falling back. You leave him wanting more – it’s written all over his face, along with a blush that races right over the bridge of his nose. 

He’s cute. He’s cute, and he’s weird, and you really fucking like him. 

“Now that that’s over with,” you have to change the topic, move right along before your heart truly bursts from your chest, “I know what I want my prize to be.” 

He takes a moment to recover, pupils almost resembling hearts as he stares down at you. Eventually he pulls himself from your trance, shaking his head as he asks, “And what would that be?”

You’re the one taking his hand this time. If he gave you the time, you’d like to learn each callous and scar by heart. Trace over them in the middle of night, when it’s just you and him in the darkness beneath your sheets. Memorize the way they feel as he explores every curvature of your body and figure out which of the roughest patches would brush against your most sensitive bits in a way that would make you arch your back right into him. 

The two of you haven’t even discussed if that’s where the night might lead, but you’re sort of hoping the luck in the air doesn’t run out. 

“There’s an awfully pretty ring in the case up at the ticket counter,” you muse, knowing damn well the ring was the ugliest thing either of you had ever seen in your lives, “Think you’ve got the tickets to spare?” 

His hand gives you a squeeze. Something not too tight, something perfectly comfortable. It’s only the fourth date, it’s only the first month – it’s only the beginning. 

“Anything for you, sweetheart,” he says, more earnestly than you’d expected, as he steals another kiss. 

You let him. You have this aching feeling in your chest that you’ll probably let him steal an endless amount from you for the rest of your life. 

When you know, you know. Or whatever the poets say.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @hideoutside @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin @ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87 @thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea @kellsck @cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking @witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore @mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog @vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria @loveryanax @stylexrepp @princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

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[banj0possum]

could you ever try writing a poly between 3 vampires and male reader? like, reader is a painter and the vampires ask him to paint them something while in their house, and is just.. evolves. sorry if it doesn't make sense

Love Bites

Poly!Vampires x Male!Painter!Reader

CW: implied kidnapping, murder, implied vampirism

holy shit this is like one of the chillest fics ive made so far :0 anyways enjoy the funny vampire men !!

🌙 You always had a knack for finding beauty in everything, from the calming dance of raindrops amongst the smell of petrichor or the lovely reds and oranges of the fall when the leaves withered.

🌙 It was very handy considering what you did for fun.

🌙 You loved to paint, anything and everything you saw was inspiration for you. After a long day of delivering bread and pastries to the people in your village from your bakery, you would run up to your room and continue on the latest masterpiece you were working on.

🌙 Everyone in the village loved your work, many of them paying you for a painting of their own.

🌙 Life was simple and calm, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

🌙 But life decided fuck that bullshit.

🌙 Rumors and whispers filled the streets of the town, it wasn't like the usual talk like someone's daughter getting married or the like, it was much more...unusual.

🌙 News spread from neighboring towns of coffins being found unearthed and opened, shadowy figures roaming around in the late hours of the night, and bodies being found in the morning, drained from their blood.

🌙 It was a terrifying thought, but you didn't dwell upon it, you weren't the type to believe such rumors so easily, and yet a feeling of uneasiness lingered within your soul.

🌙 Your town was no longer the vibrant, happy place it once was before. Windows that once had lovely flowers and laundry lines hung on them were shut day and night, the busy streets you once traversed were covered in a gloomy fog. It really was like an evil has brought itself to your home.

🌙 Or should I say evils?

🌙 In the midst of all the tension, 3 men came to your town. Eccentric was an understatement when describing them, it was like the horrors and whispers of death and murder didn't faze them a bit.

🌙 Even so, you were happy to see something other than terrified faces and panicked expressions.

🌙 You greeted them politely during a cloudy day and noticed how covered they were. One had a large hat on, the other draped in a black cloak and the last holding a parasol that shrouded him in darkness.

🌙 "Good afternoon to you too, me and my friends here are just visiting this quaint little village, how uhm...calm..it is here..hah.."

🌙 The cloaked one chuckled whilst looking to the empty streets.

🌙 "My, my! Aren't you that famous painter I've been hearing about! I'd love to get a painting done from you, but it seems everyone here is quite busy with other things.." says the one in the hat.

🌙 "Oh no! I'd love to paint for you! Come, let's talk more in my bakery. Painting is more of a secondary job for me." You guide the men to your home as you hear the cawing of crows overhead.

🌙 Days pass and you grow closer to the men. You learned that their names were Viktor, Garrick and Silas.

🌙 Viktor had long, silky hair the color of raven's feathers. His eyes shone like two rubies in the dim light of the lanterns you lit around the house. He wore a black cape which hid a wine-red vest.

🌙 He was a gentleman and had a love for poetry. He would recite his favorites to you as you painted next to him. One interesting thing you learned was that he's scared of mice. 'Dreadful things' he calls them, you found it quite adorable once when you two were talking and he suddenly squealed and pulled his feet up at the sight of a small mouse crawling passed your floors. His face, although still as pale as the moon, turned into a light red.

🌙 Garrick had messy, dark hair. His fingers were always adorned with golden rings, and he wore a somewhat stained white, ruffled shirt, you can't tell what it's stained with though. His eyes were a deep purple, one of them covered by his locks. He was unusually flirtatious with you. You joked how he should be courting women, not a baker's son such as yourself, but he whined and cooed how irresistible you were to him, why wouldn't he be interested in a boy like you!

🌙 Silas is a bit darker skinned than the others, who were unusually pale. he had round black glasses and silver hair under a dark hat. Over his shoulders draped a coat, you weren't able to decipher what he kept under it, only that they were vials of strange substances. His eyes were the color of amber, like the hues of leaves that fell in the autumn. Rather shy, he was, always looking away from your eyes whenever he talked with you. He had an interest in flowers, always handing you one whenever he visited for inspiration purposes of course...

🌙 You wouldn't notice it at first, but they've gotten quite a liking to you, protective even. They would always check up on you, if you've been eating, who you've talked to today, things like that.

🌙 It was only until they scared off a young lady for making small talk with you that you started to notice something was off about them.

🌙 When you heard the next day her body was found dead with bite marks on her neck and drained of her blood, you started to worry.

🌙 You started avoided them after that, making excuses to not invite them over to your bakery, walking the other way the moment you see them down the street. They noticed your strange behavior towards them and knew something was wrong with you.

🌙 They didn't buy your silly act at all...

🌙 "You just had to leave the body there, didn't you?!"

🌙 "What? It's fun seeing them all scared and panicky!"

🌙 "Hahah yes but uhm...there's no food out anymore..."

🌙 You heard their voices by your door during the late hours of the night. The feeling that your new friends were not what they seem festered in your mind, but your kind nature overrode your fear and you opened your door.

🌙 "Hey! It's dangerous out there! Do you want to be gutted or something?"

🌙 The 3 of them were walking along the moonlit streets when they heard your voice.

🌙 "A-Ah! Yes! Uhm...of course, excuse us, we just came back from uh..."

🌙 "A pub-"

🌙 "A pub! Yes! And we've somehow lost our way! Could you, by chance, let us stay the night? Our inn is particularly far you see.."

🌙 You unlocked your door and let the 3 gentlemen in, going to the kitchen to warm up some bread and tea for them.

🌙 "Make yourselves at home! Apologies for the mess, I been really busy lately..." you say sweetly. Viktor nods with a smile and they all sit down, whispering softly amongst one another.

🌙 As you wait for the tea to warm, you get a good look at the 3 men.

🌙 Pale skin, pointed ears, not to mention their eyes, they have to be. You had to stop yourself from gasping when Garrick laughed, revealing his sharp fangs. Fear bubbled in your stomach once more until you heard the whistle of your kettle.

🌙 After giving them their tea, you feigned a yawn and told them you were off to bed, giving directions to the spare quarters before going in your room and waiting by your door for any sounds, grabbing a broken paintbrush you accidentally snapped, a makeshift wooden stake..

🌙 You then hear the men climbing the stairs, a conversation being exchanged between them.

🌙 "Shame we must drink from him now, he was such a darling though.."

🌙 "Oh, but I believe I'm quite well off with those wonderful treats he offered us. It's a mystery how someone as wonderful as him isn' married yet..."

🌙 "Unfortunate as it is, I don't think it would be in our best interest if the boy lives.."

🌙 Your heart pounded faster as you heard them talk about you. Your hunch was true, these men are the demons that have ravaged your town. You scrambled to your bed as you hear them walk to your room.

🌙 Your door creaks open as you grip your blanket tight. Footsteps approach you as you feel a dip in the bed.

🌙 "I can hear your cute little heartbeat darling~ I know you're awake~" You hear Viktor purr, tears start to well up in your eyes as they open.

🌙 A hand caresses your cheek and brushes your hair away from your face. You brace yourself as you feel Viktor's cold breath near your neck. You dare not move lest the beast lying next to you devour you whole.

🌙 "Do we have to Viktor?" You hear Silas say in a sorrowful tone.

🌙 "I'm with Silas with this one, why can't we just..I don't know, bring him with us?"

🌙 Viktor pulls back as he pauses for a moment. You could hear the smirk on his face when he chuckles. "Actually, that's not a bad idea Garrick.."

🌙 The next morning, the townspeople saw that your front door was wide open, a window or two was broken and paintings that hung on every wall was gone. There was no sign of you. The only thing that remained was a stain of blood on your bed and claw marks on the walls of your bedroom...

oOOoOooooOo cliffhanger or whatever :00000 part 2 soon !! sorry this one took so long, i had a hard time with the story and such..

And as usual, gay men doodles &lt;3

[jpnriikicore]

── super shy

paring stiles stilinski x mccall!reader, word count 1k, genre fluff, authors note ngl this is my fav writing piece i've done so far 🫶🏻( masterlist )

your standing on the bleachers during a lacrosse practice before tonight’s game. as your a photographer for the year book club you decided to take a few pictures of the lacrosse team for the page that was going to be dedicated to them.

you zoomed your lens in on one player in particular, stiles stilinski. he was talking with the coach - well, more like arguing which wasn’t unusual for the two. you snap a few pictures of him. truth be told, you had a crush on stilinski since fourth grade finding the boy's humor and sarcasm charming.

as he gets back into line to continue to practice he notices you and waves at you. you back away from the camera shyly waving back at him.

you sit down on the bleachers searching through your bag to find a different lens. you were too busy with finding the lens that you completely ignored the sound of someone walking up the bleachers.

"you coming to the game tonight?" his voice slightly startled you as you look up at him. he knew that it was a stupid question. you came to every single game, but he got to nervous and just asked the first question that came to his mind.

he was always incredibly nervous in front of you. either he’s to shy to talk to you which like never happens when talking with anyone else. if you asked everybody else in the school if stiles was talkative or not they would reply that stiles never shuts up. or he would ramble on about the most stupidest topics. well, he believed that it was stupid, but you didn’t you find it to add to his charm and personality.

"yeah!" you nodded looking up at him.

"stilinski!" coach yelled grabbing the attention of the two teenagers.

"see you there," he pointed finger guns at her. she smiled at the playful action. "i-i gotta go get back to practice." he pointed with his thumb behind towards the field.

"yeah, okay. see you at the game stilinski."

luckily, stiles wasn’t on the bench anymore and actually got to play. you sat down on the bleachers next the sheriff and your mom, melissa. like normal game day your wearing braids with red ribbons and a red sweater due to the cold weather with the number '11' on the back to support your brother.

you bought your camera to take a few more pictures. though you tried to take pictures of all of the players fairly for the yearbook you couldn’t help, but notice that the majority of the pictures you took was of stiles. you put your camera down to focus on the game happening in front of you. you looked over to the scoreboard taking notice that beacon hills was winning a few points ahead.

stiles glanced over at you and now is completely emerged about the thought of you. his mind wasn’t focused on the game by any means. you looked too alluring making all his interest go on you. the wind moves a few pieces of your hair that managed to get loose from your braids that exposed '24' painted in red on your cheek. it was a small subtle thing, but it made butterflies irrupt in his stomach.

he managed to get his focus back on the game after getting snapped back into reality by scott. he threw the ball into the net scoring the last point for beacon hills to win. while the other players celebrated he searched for you in the crowd that formed on the field.

you snapped a few more pictures of the players celebrating after the win before packing up your camera equipment which lead to you being one of the last ones to get off the bleachers. you walked through the crowd trying to find your brother to tell him congratulations.

stiles found you first though rushing up to you lifting you up from the ground spinning you around. in shock a few giggles escaped your mouth. a rush of excitement and adrenaline filled stiles as his body reacted before his mind could comprehend what he was doing. he kissed you.

"do you want to go on a date with me?" the words slipped without him thinking by the time he realized it was too late to backtrack his question. he swallowed nervously waiting for your answer.

"i would love to." you nodded, smiling up at him. you held his hand as you walk to the parking lot to your truck. you could tell your brother congratulations once he got home.

you chuck your camera equipment in the passenger seat through the rolled down window of the drivers seat. once you turns around to face stiles once again he trapped you between his body and the truck. his hand resting on the truck and the other carefully cradling your jaw. he leans in kissing you yet again. you melted into the kiss wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him closer. you could definitely get used to this.

"can i see the pictures you took?" he mumbled against your lips.

"yeah." you nodded reaching for the bag that sitting in the driver seat and unzips it getting the camera. you turn to him as you turn the camera on handing it to him. a bright smile paints his face.

"seems like you have a crush on someone." he teased, playfully pushing his shoulder on yours. you looks down in embarrassment kicking the small pebbles in the parking lot with you shoe.

"i've had a crush on you since fourth grade." you admitted lowly.

"i've had a crush on you since we met in the sandbox."

your face lit up at his confession. one night could truly change everything. at one point of tonight you was just childhood friends now you planned on going on a date next friday and kissed twice within the span of five minutes. what you believed was unrequited love for so many years turns out not to be as unrequited as what you believed.

© JPNRIIKICORE, 2023

[twelve-forfend]

Well, I did say this was a multi-fandom blog... Alright, let's do this.

The Qing Jing Peak Lord's Bamboo House

(and the symbolism therein, as recorded in the donghua)

I was snooping through the establishing shots of the Qing Jing Peak Lord's Bamboo House, and had to laugh as I always do at all the gay symbolism that managed to sneak its way inside. But then I looked a little closer, and was floored by just how much passive storytelling was packed into background assets. I talked about it at length over discord, and at the urging of others decided to make a shareable post on social media as well.

First, the shots which first piqued my interest in this topic years ago:

Shen Yuan transmigrates into the stallion-genre webnovel entitled 狂傲仙魔途 (translated as Proud Immortal Demon Way). The author's and his own usernames are dick jokes.

Notice the chrysanthemum vase, the cock vase, and the stallion statuette.

The stallion and cock are obvious nods to these jokes on their own, but for the uninitiated, the chrysanthemum is a symbol of gay sex between men, as the asshole itself is often euphemistically referred to as a chrysanthemum. This should have been Shen Yuan's first clue that not all is as it seems here! These are the personal quarters of Shen Jiu — the original Shen Qingqiu!

But let's move to the main room you first walk into upon entering the bamboo house.

There it is: the writing on the wall.

As the Peak Lord of strategy and the scholarly arts, Shen Qingqiu would naturally have calligraphy and paintings hanging everywhere! So let's break it down.

On the top we have 道㳒自然 ("Dao Follows Nature"), which comes from a Dao teaching by Laozi (founder of Daoism) meaning that life, death, the entire universe, the heavens and earth and everything outside and inbetween, all follow a set of laws referred to as the nature of things. Although unrelated to the Buddhist couplet below, it's certainly relevant!

Originally hanging in right-to-left order, I've arranged them to read left to right here to make things easier to keep track of. The calligraphy reads 西方竹葉千年翠；南海蓮九品香 and is a couplet commonly found in Guanyin temples. My classical chinese is not as strong as I'd like, but this translates roughly to "The bamboo leaves in Paradise are green for a thousand years / The fragrance of lotus flowers in the South China Sea is as thick as 9 sticks of incense."

The character 西 for West is used to denote the destination of enlightenment/purity: the buddhist Paradise (think Journey to the West). The South China Sea is where Guanyin was born. Upon the Lotus flowers is where Guanyin is commonly depicted as sitting. The "9 sticks of incense" though literal can also refer to the 9 tiers/grades of reincarnation lotuses with the 9th tier being the lowest, meant for those who in life committed the most evil of crimes — the 4 parajikas — and who can only manage a sincere Amitabha recitation 10 times and no more than this.

To put this in context with Shen Jiu (the same jiu as in 9/九), the 4 parajikas committed by the 9th Tier Lotuses Reborn (officially entitled the Lowest of the Low) are:

Sexual Intercourse

Stealing

Murder

Claiming attainments of stages of pure mental concentration that have not been achieved (in other words, rushing or lying about your cultivation/enlightenment, or maybe even becoming a Peak Lord without having formed a golden core beforehand).

From what we know in the context of the novel, Shen Jiu is innocent of at least the first of this parajikas, but the overall view of Shen Jiu in the eyes of others in the story is that he is guilty of them all. This calligraphy can be seen as a condemnation or a reminder for the character Shen Jiu, who even as the Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu is widely thought of as a scum villain and the lowest of the low.

Phew! That's a lot to unpack.

But if you turn your gaze to the original screenshot, you'll see to the right that there's a vase painted with a blue bird. This vase appears in several rooms of the bamboo house, and seems to be the image of a qingniao (青鸟; lit: Qing bird, wherein 青 can mean blue/green/clear-but-brackish black).

These qing-coloured birds are messengers and foragers of the Goddess-Mother of Paradise (Xiwang-mu 西王母, the "west/paradise" character from before, lit West-King(unisex)-Mother). They're a highly intelligent species who are exceptional in song (a good representative for Qing Jing's scholarly arts and pursuit of qin!), and the older ones might learn to speak human tongue. As a subspecies of luanniao (鸾鸟 lit: luan bird), they're thought to be related to The Phoenix and indeed thought to be the lifetime/samsara just before being reborn as a Phoenix.

If given to a "master" they don't like, the qingniao may refuse to pass messages or sing until they're set free, but if they do get along with you then they're loyal to the end.

As a point of interest, the Qing generation of Peak Lords uses the character 清, which is 青 ("colour of nature; brackish black, blue, green; young) + the radical for "water," resulting in the meaning of clear (as in water or heart; see-through); distinct; quiet (as in still); just and honest; pure; to settle or clear up; to clean up, expunge, or purge.

And as a bit of trivia, Liu Qingge's sword Cheng Luan 乘鸾 means "to ride the luan, take flight on the back of a luan." (Relevant, because the qingniao is considered a subspecies of luanniao).

With the Lords of both Qing Jing and Bai Zhan referencing this bird, I really wonder about its significance! It's spawning plenty of theories and headcanons for me.

Heading back outside for a moment, you'll find that in the Quiet Pool (清静小池 qingjing xiaochi (yes, the same Qing Jing the peak is named for)), there are lotuses, and on land there are flower shrubs which are either wide-petaled chrysanthemums (gay bottom jokes ahoy), or a type of peony, the king of flowers demarcating wealth and prosperity. Either way, a blossom fitting of our Qing Jing Peak Lord Shen Qingqiu!

My one regret is that I cannot get a clear shot of the fan hanging on the wall to try and translate the calligraphy on it. If anyone can snag one, please tag me! I also couldn't translate the paintings with poems hanging in Shen Qingqiu's bedroom (it's just too small and blurry for my bad eyes to make out). If I make another post attempting these things, I'll append them to this initial post in an edit afterwards.

[creepswrites]

TIRED OF RUNNING | Sinclairs x Reader

YET ANOTHER REWRITE i have no idea why Tired of Running is so popular but i've always been proud of it :) the original can be read here but i will be rewriting all existing chapters to finish it!!

SINCLAIR BROTHERS x GN!READER (they/them)

SUMMARY: "We got a visitor, Vince." Bo said, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, watching Vincent work. The latest sculpture was of a woman in a flapper dress, perfect for the House of Wax. He nodded, assuming it was just Lester. Though he didn't see a reason why Bo would bother him just for that. So, regrettably, he looked up from his work. "They got kids."

WARNING: mentioned child abuse

Sighing, you hit your head on the wheel with an exhausted groan. The Louisiana heat had been suffocating you ever since the AC sputtered to nothing a few hours ago. You'd left the windows open to prevent frying the inside of the car but it was still too hot. Even after living here for a few years, you never got used to the heat. It was fall for god's sake…

You lifted your head and tried to blink back the drowsiness aching behind your eyes. Driving for a week now had exhausted you and the heat wasn't doing you any favors. Everything felt warm and sleepy, making it difficult to focus on the road. A glance at your gas tank only made you groan. Nearly empty tank with no cell phone reception and two kids to take care of.

Speaking of kids, you glanced at the rearview mirror. Your twin boys - Peter and Michael - were passed out in their carseats and dead to the world. They were good kids, rarely fussy, and full of energy. They were why you'd been on the road for so long. You'd fled home with whatever belongings you could pack in your car and never looked back. Seeing their peaceful faces reminded you that it had been the right decision. Watching your ex husband strike Mikey for "misbehaving" had been your last straw. They were only two years old and he expected them to just simply know what behaviors were acceptable without teaching them anything.

He'd been the one who wanted kids yet showed no real interest in parenting. That had all been on you.

Which led you to where you were: off a dirt backroad in the middle of nowhere with the sun setting in an hour. If it had just been you, you would have sucked it up and walked to the nearest town in search of help. But with two toddlers, the feat seemed impossible. You didn't want them getting lost or hurt in the dark with no way of you helping them.

You got out of the car to survey your situation. The road you were on was mainly dirt and not well traveled. You hadn't even been certain they were roads if not for the signs just before you'd turned. Grass grew in wild, untamed patches and stretched out into a field to your left while the forest was close to your right. The trees offered minimal shade but were better than nothing. At least it was cooler under them instead of your hot car. But the prospect of sleeping in the dirt didn't sit well with you. Who knows what animals were even out there.

You pressed the heel of your hands to your eyes and tried not to cry. This was absolutely the worst possible thing that could have happened. If your husband was following you, which he most certainly was, then it was only a matter of time until he found you.

So you slid down the side of your car to sit against the wheel and curl in on yourself. It had been awhile since you cried since your husband would slap you for it, threatening to give you something to really cry about. You'd only withstood the abuse for so long because you didn't want Peter and Mikey to grow up in broken homes. But after you noticed they were being hit, you couldn't stay still. It had still been hard and you kept second guessing yourself all week if you were doing the right thing.

Hopefully you were.

A few hours passed before your luck changed. The sun had just begun to set, painting the skies in pinks and purples like a beautiful watercolor painting. It was finally cooler out now too, the breeze brushing your arms and face periodically. You'd just finished feeding the boys whatever food you had left in the duffle bags still and had decided to let them play in the little clearing nearby. You'd all been cooped up in your tiny car for days and you could tell they needed a break. They promised to stay close to you, running around nearby with sticks and their toys. Peter roared, running up to you with a tiny blue T-rex in hand. "'m gon' eat you!" He giggled.

You scooped him up and held him in your lap, watching his brother poking at the dirt with a stick. "Mikey, don't wander too far okay?" 

Mikey didn't answer and you sighed. He always had problems listening, always content to drift off in his own world without a second thought. You'd read a book about childhood trauma and worried about Mikey sometimes. You stood up and were about to approach him when you heard the sound of a car rumbling. You'd never understood the phrase "your life flashes before your eyes" but in that moment you did. "Mikey!" You shouted, white-hot horror shooting through you. "Peter, get in the car!" 

As soon as Peter squirmed out of your arms, you shot off like a rocket towards Mikey. His wide, terrified eyes were trained on the car headlights, which felt like a spotlight as you picked him up. The ground was illuminated with bright white light, making it impossible to hide from whoever this was. You practically threw Mikey into the car, slamming the door behind him and locking them inside.

The truck came to a stop and you faced it, squeezed your eyes tight, and prepared for the worst.

You heard the sound of the car door open and you turned to face the figure. When he finally stepped into the light, you nearly cried from relief. It wasn't your ex nor any of his friends. You felt your knees give out as a sob wracked your body, the adrenaline crash hitting you hard.

"Woah, woah!" The guy said, hurrying over and crouching in front of you. "Hey, it's alrigh', I ain't gon' hurt'cha." His voice was calm, the southern drawl making your eyes feel heavy. The headlights obscured a lot of your vision but you could make out his face. He was a little scruffy, covered in dirt, and looking at you with more concern than anyone had looked at you with in quite some time. "Shh, it's alrigh', you're okay…" You could tell he was scrambling, unsure how to help you but desperate to do so.

"S-sorry," you babbled through broken sobs. You didn't know what else to say and you couldn't stop the tears. "I- I thought you were- I'm sorry, my ex, he-"

He took you in his arms, hugging you to his chest. He was warm and smelt of dirt and rot but you didn't even care. You couldn't remember the last time you'd been hugged. Over the years, your ex had isolated you from your friends and most of your family so you knew it had likely been a good few years. So you wrapped your arms around his neck and sobbed.

But he didn't falter. "Shh, 's okay, you're okay. I gotcha." He rubbed slow circles in your back and smiled down at you, like an angel come to save you. "Y'ain't gotta 'pologize. I ain't mad."

You sniffed, wiping your eyes and leaning back slightly to look at him better. Definitely scruffy but charming in his own way. The look on his face was impossibly soft, so unfamiliar to you yet you craved that gentleness. "Sorry, I, um, I'm on the run. My ex, he, uh… Well, doesn't matter now. I got myself and my boys out 'n that's what matters."

The stranger's eyes widened slightly. Bright and pretty and you felt safe under his gaze, for some reason. "Your boys?"

You nodded and started to stand. He didn't hesitate to offer his arm, letting you steady yourself on him when you felt your head swim. "Yeah, they're in the car. Probably scared 'em shitless with my screaming." Your legs felt unsteady when you walked and you didn't miss the way the guy hovered, like he was braced to catch you if you fell. It was sweet.

You swung your car door open and the boys peered up at you, scrambling to try and hide their animal crackers. "Boys," you sighed, "What did I say about desserts?"

"To ask." Peter said plainly, too distracted by the stranger. "You're dirty, mister."

"Peter-!" You gasped, ready to apologize on his behalf.

But the man just laughed, clapping his hands together in his amusement. "Yeah, yeah, y'ain't wrong lil guy. Been workin' all day, hauling dead stuff 'round."

Peter looked morbidly intrigued, scooting closer to whisper like the two of them were sharing a secret. "Like… dead people?"

"Nah, nah, nothin' like that." The guy knelt down to talk with him easier, lowering his voice as well. "Animals who, uh, get hit by cars. Ain't got anyone to take care'a them, ain't like pets. So I come 'round 'n clean 'em up off the road."

Nodding slowly, Peter reached behind him and held out one of his dinosaur toys. "Have ya seen one'a these?"

The man seemed bewildered but offered him a sincere smile. "Nah, but, uh, if I do, I'll let'cha know, 'kay?"

Peter seemed satisfied with that answer and went back to his crackers. "I never got your name." You said as the man stood back up.

"Name's Lester." He gave you a gap-toothed grin, tilting his cap in a greeting. "Was headin' back home 'n saw yer car. Figured I'd come check on ya."

You smiled, hugging yourself shyly. "I, uh, ran outta gas. And with the boys, I can't exactly walk for help. No cell service either."

Lester frowned, scratching at his face as he seemed to think it over. He surveyed the three of you before looking out towards the setting sun. "Well, I ain't usually do this," he drawled slowly, "But there's a town nearby. 's called Ambrose. Could drive ya there so y'all could sleep for the night. An' in the mornin', we can swing by the gas station 'n get some gas for yer car."

"Really?" You stared at him with your mouth agape. "You- You'd help? Wh-what's the catch?" You couldn't accept he'd do this for nothing. If being with your ex taught you anything it's that no one was good for no good reason.

He smiled again, sliding his hands into his pockets. "Ain't no catch, honest. Jus' breaks my heart to see ya so freaked out."

You rubbed your arms nervously. "Sorry. I, um, thought you were my ex…"

Lester's face screwed up. "Well, whoever he is, hope he goes to hell if he'd scare ya that badly, sweetpea." 

Sweetpea was new. You felt your face warm up and you looked away shyly. He seemed trustworthy and he was cute, in a scruffy boyish way. You liked him. "I- I really appreciate it, Lester."

"'Course. Got two brothers'a my own so I get it." He watched you open your trunk and shuffle the bags around. "They ain't as well behaved as yer boys though."

Shouldering two of the bags, you snorted. "Yeah, you see 'em when its bathtime, then talk to me 'bout behaving."

The two of you were able to move most of your belongings along with the boy's car seats without issue. The truck smelt of rot and you scrunched your nose up when you spotted the dead deer in the back. "Sorry," Lester said, noticing your gaze. "Was workin' when I caught'cha. I promise everythin' in the car is clean though."

"It's okay." The smile you gave him was genuine even if he seemed surprised by it. "You're helping me. I ain't gonna shame you for your work. 'sides, someone's gotta do it, y'know?"

Lester, incredibly, gave you a surprised little smile as he watched you round up the boys. "Yeah. Yeah. You get it."

"The car smells weird." Peter said bluntly as you fastened him into his seat. Mikey had gone quietly, only squirming a little to voice his discomfort at being buckled in. He never liked confined spaces.

"Be nice, Peter." You shot him a look. "Lester's being kind to us, be kind to him, yeah?"

Peter glanced over at the man and smiled, all gap toothed and sweet. "Thank you for helpin' Mr Lester."

"'Course, lil man." Lester said, climbing into the front seat and rooting around in the glovebox. "Always happy to help." 

You climbed into the passenger seat beside Lester and felt the truck rumble to life. The truck was clearly old but you could tell Lester loved it dearly and took good care of it. Even if the engine shook the whole frame. The homemade charms littered with bones and feathers rattled like raindrops and he let out a little cheer. From out of the glovebox, he pulled out an old air freshener that smelt of disgustingly fake pine and strung it over the rearview mirror. "Best I got for the smell, sorry." He said with a sideways smile.

Your heart clenched. He was so kind to you for no reason and you almost teared up from the sweet gesture alone. "Thank you."

The truck rattled and the skull sitting on the dashboard unnerved you but you brushed it off. He worked with dead animals, something about it all just made sense. The boys didn't seem to care too much, happily nodding off only ten minutes into your drive.

"So how old're they?" Lester asked in a hushed voice, trying to not wake them.

"Just turned two a few months back. Twins, if you can believe it." You chuckled, sparing the boys a glance. They weren't identical in the slightest which you were slightly grateful for. You didn't want to be one of those parents who dressed their twins to look even more the same. "But, um, I guess they got to be too much for my ex. Managed to get out 'bout a week ago and we've been on the road since."

You felt Lester glance at you, giving you a once over. Unlike with most men, you didn't find yourself repulsed by his gaze. "He put his hands on ya?"

Shrugging, you turned your attention to the window to watch the trees. The sky was slowly getting darker, making them look like just black voids. At that moment, you became hyper aware of the ring still on your finger. The compulsion to throw it out the window was strong. "Yeah. A few times." You confessed quietly, closing your eyes to keep yourself from crying again. "More the boys than me, which kills me."

You didn't miss the way Lester's hands clutched the wheel tighter. "Well, there's a special place in hell for people like that. 's fuckin' repulsive." He grumbled that last part, like he didn't want the boys to hear it.

It made you laugh though. "You're right… It's just refreshing to hear." You tried to swallow around a lump in your throat. "All his friends were the only friends I had. Was allowed to have. And none of them were interested in helping me, much less believe me."

Lester scoffed. "Scumbags, the lotta'em. What happened ain't your fault, sweetpea don't let any of 'em get in your pretty lil' head that you did anythin' wrong." He paused, chewing on his lip before sighing. "My dad, he wasn't always the kindest to my brother. An' don't go telling this to nobody, ya hear? But I always hated folks who can jus' hurt their loved ones and keep goin' 'bout their damn business. Like it ain't botherin' em."

You knew he was right. It still brought tears to your eyes to have someone believe you. Someone who had no idea what your situation was and he was still defending you. Like your ex had no reason good enough for Lester to even ask about.

You definitely liked Lester.

"Town's just up this way," he said softly. The sight of streetlights was almost relieving to you after a long day of being on the road, hopping from gas station to gas station and only stopping at motels long enough to sleep. "Might get a lil' bit bumpy." 

Bumpy was an understatement. You almost thought you'd crashed as you felt the wheels bounce against rocks, shaking the car so violently you felt sick. Your arm shot out to try and catch your balance against the window and you only let out a breath when the truck came to a complete stop.

You and Lester shared a wide-eyed look. "Forgot to lay the planks down." 

Nothing about it was funny. But after the evening you had, you couldn't help but laugh. A genuine laugh. Something you hadn't done in a long time.

When Mikey began to cry from being woken up so violently, Lester got to him before you could. "Shh, s'alright lil' man, go back to sleep, shhh." He reached behind his seat to brush at his knee. "Sorry, almost there bud, jus' a bit further."

Eventually, Mikey settled back down, sniffling until he fell back asleep. When Lester sat back in his seat, he noticed your staring. "You have kids of your own or something? You're a natural at that."

He looked embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck with a shy chuckle. "Nah, but, uh, used to babysit 'round here. Was always good with kids, I s'pose."

With the car on paved roads now, the drive up to the town was smooth. As expected of a tiny town, nobody was outside. The lights in the little shops were out and the houses were all dark. Except one house atop a hill, lit up like a lighthouse in a sea of darkness. Lester drove towards it and pulled to a stop just outside. It was a modest house, paint peeling off in places along the outside and cobwebs in high places of the awning over the door. "What's this place?" You asked as you quickly followed Lester out of the car. You were incredibly appreciative of Lester’s good deed but his car did smell like rotten meat. 

Hopefully he wouldn’t be too offended.

"Family home. Inn's prolly closed for the night but I betcha my brothers'll let ya stay for the night." Lester said as he opened the backseat and began to undo the straps of Mikey's car seat.

You were struck silent. "I- Lester I can't impose on your-"

There wasn't any time to protest as the front door swung open. A large man stood there, dressed in a mechanics jumpsuit and wearing a hat over thin curly hair. "Les? The hell's this?"

Lester smiled all innocently, like this was a perfectly normal thing for him to do. "Heya Bo. Brought guests."

Bo stared you both down before running a hand over his face in exasperation. "When I toldja to come by for dinner, I ain't meaning to bring your pretty lil' girlfriend with ya."

You blushed and stammered but Lester spoke up, lifting a sleeping Mikey into his arms like he was a precious artifact. Bo took notice and his eyes widened at the sight. "I, uh," he stammered inelegantly. "What's with the, uh…"

"His name's Mikey." You mumbled, suddenly feeling unwelcome. It wasn't uncommon for people to look at you strangely for the twins, like they were some curse. Or maybe it was just your exes friends who felt like that.

Bo nodded slowly. "Mikey. Right." He looked at Lester and stepped aside, letting him pass into the house with your baby. "Well then. You folks like lasagna?" 

You blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Whenever Les comes to visit for the eve, Vince always makes lasagna. Easy for him to take home 'n whatnot." Bo gave you a warm smile as he approached you slowly, like he was afraid you'd bolt. "If my lil' brother thinks you're good people… Well, I'm obliged to trust him. He ain't ever been wrong."

You watched Bo grab the bags you brought, only hesitating when he saw Peter, also fast asleep. "Sorry, um, I can-" You stuttered, reaching for the bags in Bo's hands.

He held onto them though, tilting his head towards Peter. "Don't even think 'bout it. You just bring your lil' one in. The gentlemanly thing to do is carry the bags." Bo gave you a flirtatious wink and went back inside.

You were left standing in the chilly, night air. The only light came from the inside of the house, which bathed the front porch and gravel walkway in warm, yellow light. You were cold and confused and absolutely exhausted. A part of you screamed against all instinct to accept their help, to trust these strangers. It had been so long since you'd trusted anyone, after all. You were desperate.

So you did.

Peter was already blinking awake from his short nap when you pushed the screen door open more and took in the house. It was a comfortable state of disarray. Throw pillows were propped against the couch at odd angles, family photographs decorated the walls in mismatched frames, and the room smelt of meat, cheese, and marinara sauce.

Lester and Bo's heads snapped to look at you. They'd clearly been whispering but they both smiled at you when you entered. Mikey was sitting on the couch, still a little bleary eyed, curled up against one of the velvety throw pillows that looked rustic and homemade. You sat Peter down beside him, brushing hair from their sleepy faces, and tried to ignore the brothers whispering. "Sorry," you mumbled as you approached them.

They both seemed surprised. "Why're you sorry?" Bo asked with a frown. "Y'ain't got nothin' to be sorry 'bout."

You fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, hung head low like a child being scolded. Fawn, your brain screamed. Fawn and they won't hurt you. "'m intruding with two kids, I- I know I'm not supposed to have come here, I just- Lester said the inn was closed, I didn't know where else to go, my car broke down-"

Lester cut your spiraling off by taking your hand and squeezing gently, grounding you. "Hey, hey, sweetpea," he kept his voice low and soothing, "We're happy to have ya. All three'a ya. Honest."

Bo nodded along, frowning at how quickly you retreated inwards. Lester had mentioned to him very briefly while you were outside about how your ex laid hands on you and the boys. It was what got him fully on board with offering you help. So seeing you like this broke his heart just that little bit more.

"I'm gonna go talk to Vince, let him know we got guests." Bo said as he swung open the basement door. "Les, make sure our guests are comfortable, yeah?"

Lester nodded, humming his agreement as he pulled you to his chest for a hug. You went willingly, your hands curled up in the fabric of his shirt as he hooked his arms around your shoulders. "Yeah, I got 'em." He said, shooting his brother a smile as he hugged you.

Bo nodded and descended to the basement.

Vincent hated to be disturbed while working. His brothers especially knew how entranced he'd get in a project, focused on perfecting every piece. Their mother had made him an incredible artist, which often meant he'd neglect everything, even himself, for the sake of his work. Oftentimes, Lester or Bo had to come downstairs to make sure he didn't collapse from exhaustion or dehydration. Especially when summer hit and the basement's heat was suffocating.

So Vincent didn't even lift his head when Bo came to a stop in the entryway, too focused on mending a crack in the cheek of his sculpture. "We got a visitor, Vince." Bo said, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, watching Vincent work. The latest sculpture was of a woman in a flapper dress, perfect for the House of Wax. 

He nodded, assuming it was just Lester. Though he didn't see a reason why Bo would bother him just for that. So, regrettably, he looked up from his work.

"They got kids."

And that made Vincent straighten up. "Kids?" He signed slowly, like he wasn't sure he heard him right.

"Yeah." Bo said through a sigh. "Two lil' guys. Too old for breastfeedin' but too young for preschool. Hard to say though, been awhile since any of us were that old." He chucked humorlessly.

Vincent looked towards the wax figure slowly. "We promised Lester we wouldn't hurt children."

Bo nodded, looking annoyed. "Yeah, yeah, I know. They're a pretty lil' thing too. Would be perfect for the museum, but, of course, Lester found 'em first."

"They can't see me," Vincent suddenly became frantic. "The children will be afraid."

The other man winced, hissing through his teeth. "Sorry bro, already promised your cookin' tonight." But Bo didn't seem that remorseful, even when his twin leveled him with an unimpressed look. "When's dinner, by the way?"

"What time is it?" Vincent signed, finally aware of the passage of time. It was easy to get lost in his work, though he promised himself he'd only come down for a few minutes to double check something. But it was easy for him to get lost.

"'s only quarter past 9. Why?"

Vincent finally moved, hurrying past. Bo was only able to make out "oven" before his brother was out of sight.

Thankfully, nothing was burnt. Vincent hadn't even spared you a glance yet, too focused on not burning the house down. Once the food was set atop the stove to cool down, he turned around to face you.

You were sat on the couch with Lester and the boys, who were trying their best to stay awake. "You must be Vincent," you said with a sniff. You knew your eyes were red from crying. Lester had sat with you, holding you while you wept. It was hard, feeling cared for. Especially by strangers.

Pain was familiar. This kindness overwhelmed you.

Vincent became shy when you addressed him, hiding behind long hair and doing his best to keep out of your sight. But Bo, never one to let his twin have peace, grabbed his arm to keep him from hiding. "Yep, managed to finally pull 'im outta that basement for dinner. Whaddya say, Vinny? You up for a proper meal with our guests?"

If looks could kill, Bo would have erupted into flames, reduced to ashes on the carpet. "Do I have a choice?" Vincent signed, managing to look annoyed even behind his mask.

"Nah." Bo smiled, all teeth and no kindness. "You set the table, I'll get enough chairs ready."

Lester turned to you, brushing stray tears away. His heart hurt when you'd started bawling after Bo left, babbling to him that you felt horrible for intruding and forcing his family to help you just because of the kids. He swore if he ever got his hands on your ex, they'd wish Vince or Bo had gotten to them first. "You okay?" He asked you gently, giving you what he hoped was a sincere smile.

You nodded, sniffing once. "Yeah, um, sorry for-"

"If you 'pologize to me for cryin', I'mma beat the ever lovin' shit outta your ex, sweetpea." Lester said, relishing in your chuckle. "We're happy to help ya, really."

Sniffing again, you nodded and wiped your eyes. "I really appreciate it. More than I think you know."

The look he gave you was impossibly soft. Like you were something precious. Lester's hand cupped your face as he pressed a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, making your mouth fall open in surprise. "You deserve it, sweetpea. Y'really do." 

Bo coughed, making Lester roll his eyes. The two shared pointed looks before Bo turned to you. "Your lil' ones need high chairs or, uh, somethin'?"

You glanced down at the boys and sighed. "I think they're down for the count."

"You can use my room upstairs." Lester said. "I ain't sleep there much anymore so it oughta be clean." Before you could even think to protest, he tapped your nose. "And don't you get all apologetic on me. I wouldn't offer it if it weren't alright."

Honestly, you were a bit relieved to get to sleep in a real bed. So you thanked them quietly, gathered the boys up in your arms, and carried them upstairs. "Second door on the right," Bo called up after you.

As soon as your footsteps couldn't be heard on the creaky wooden stairs anymore, Lester was the first to speak. "I hope you two ain't forgotten your promise."

"Lester, I toldja to find someone for the museum-" Bo hissed, anger sharp on his face.

But the younger Sinclair didn't back down. "If Mama knew you two'd killed two lil' boys, whaddya think she'd do? She'd say somethin' 'bout how if someone took y'all from her, she'd raise hell."

"Don't bring Mama into this." Bo glared daggers at Lester.

Vincent knocked on the countertop to get their attention. "He's right. We made a promise."

"We can't fuckin' keep 'em here!" Bo said, careful to keep his voice down.

"Don't gotta." Lester said, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. "They ran outta gas. Let 'em stay the night, drop 'em back off at their car, they'll go on. Ain't no trouble."

Bo groaned, rubbing his face with his hands. "Why do you even care so bad?"

Lester flushed, blotchy pink spots on his cheeks, and shrugged. "They're nice. 'n I feel bad. Their ex laid hands on those lil' babies an' I'd do anything to get five minutes alone with that sonuvabitch."

Vincent's eyes widened. "You didn't mention that!" He signed harshly at Bo.

"Didn't exactly have a moment to tell ya." He sighed with obvious frustration. "Fine, alright, we keep 'em for one night. They're gone in the mornin', ya hear?"

The three of them were quiet for awhile, listening to your footsteps overhead as you set the boys up in Lester's old room. "Swear on Mama," Lester said, keeping his voice low, "That I ain't gonna be seein' any lil' boy statues."

"Lester-!" Bo hissed.

"Swear!" Lester shot back. The two were up in each other's faces at this point.

Vincent, ever the peacemaker, knocked on the counter again. "We swear on Mama."

"Don't fuckin' speak for me, freak!" Bo huffed. But Vincent fixed him with a glare and he sighed in defeat. "Fine. Swear on Mama. Ain't nothin' gonna happen to those three."

The youngest seemed satisfied. At that moment, you came back down the stairs, frowning slightly when you noticed them. "Everything okay?" You asked as though sensing the tension in the room.

"Yep!" Lester said with a wide grin. "Hungry?"

"Starving." You smiled back. 

Dinner was awkward at first, especially since you struggled to understand Vincent. But Bo and Lester happily translated and conversation began to flow easier, which you were grateful for.

"So, how long has it just been the three of you?" You asked as you took a bite out of the lasagna. Warm and cheesy and exactly what you needed after a week of gas station food.

Bo hummed as he swallowed. "'Bout ten years now. Went by in a blip, feels like."

"Oh," you frowned, "What happened? If, um, I can ask."

Vincent nodded, still nervously picking at his food. You'd noticed he only ate when you weren't looking so he could lift the mask, which saddened you. He seemed like a nice guy and you wondered what happened in the past to make him hide his face. But you did your best to look away periodically to give him a chance to eat and hopefully let him know it was fine. He probably got enough grief for it as is, you didn't need to add on.

Judging by the slowly disappearing food on his plate, you figured that was the right thing to do.

"Mama got sick. Real sick." Bo sighed sadly. "She was a really great artist, losing her hit the town hard."

"I'm sorry." You said gently. But Lester was the only one of the brothers who seemed sad. Something about that confused you. Why wouldn't they miss their parents?

You took a bite of the food. That wasn't your business.

Vincent began talking about his art then. Bo seemed to roll his eyes and ignored his signing, uninterested in translating. But Lester picked it up in his place, helping his brother talk about his art. He enjoyed painting in his free time but he primarily sculpted with wax.

Your eyes widened in surprise. "You sculpt?"

"Vinny's the main artist in the House of Wax down the street." Bo nodded, answering for him. "Maybe t'morrow we'll take you 'n the boys to see it."

Vincent fidgeted with the ends of his hair, clearly embarrassed. You shot him a warm smile. "I'm sure Vincent's art is great. I look forward to it."

Once dinner was over, Bo and Lester disappeared into the living room with a couple of beers so you and Vince had the chance to wash dishes. The peaceful white noise of the running water and the simple swirling of washing dishes was nice after a long day. Vincent helped, taking whatever dish you passed him and drying it, setting it aside on the nearby dishrack.

He seemed to appreciate the silence. You almost wished you knew sign language so you could talk to him beyond yes or no questions. But you tried to ignore the shock you felt when your fingers brushed sometimes.

If he noticed, he didn't bring it up.

The soft sound of crying alarmed you. You spun around and saw Mikey standing in the doorway of the kitchen, sniffing and sobbing silently. He cried for you and ran towards you, wailing for comfort. You'd barely dried your hands before you were reaching down, scooping him up into your arms. "Shhh, it's okay," you soothed him gently, Mikey had always been the more sensitive one. Waking up in a new, unfamiliar place must have startled him, you thought to yourself as you swayed with him gently.

He nodded, whimpering. "Scared."

"I can imagine." You kissed his cheek gently, rocking him like you'd done when he was an infant, needing to be settled before bed. "It's okay baby, you're alright," you repeated the mantra over and over as you heard Vincent turn off the water behind you.

Hearing his heavy footsteps behind you, you turned to face him and shifted Peter so he could see him. The tall man blinked slowly at Peter, tilting his head curiously at your son. "Mikey,, this is Vincent. He and his brothers are letting us spend the night so you and Peter can sleep in a bed." 

Mikey seemed to consider this before reaching up to try and touch Vincent's face. "Hi," he whispered.

Vincent flinched slightly but didn't step back. Instead, he offered his hand for the young boy to grab at. Mikey giggled as he grabbed at Vincent's fingers and hand, seemingly satisfied. "Did you wake your brother?" You asked after a moment and winced when your son nodded. "Where did he wander off to?"

"Over here," You turned your head to see Peter half asleep slumped against Bo, barely even keeping his eyes open. Neither of the men seemed bothered though. Bo even raised his beer bottle jokingly, "Seems he's ready to get drinkin' already." He teased and you snorted.

"God I wish they'd just stay small forever. I can't even imagine them starting school yet, much less drinking." You paled at the mere thought. It seemed like only yesterday they were just born and now you felt nauseous whenever you think about them starting kindergarten. Being away from your kids for extended periods of time felt terrifying.

You were pulled from your thoughts by Vincent signing something to you. Shit. Luckily, Lester translated from his seat on the couch, "He's askin' if ya want help bringin' em upstairs?"

Blinking a few times, you nodded at Vincent with a smile. "Yeah, I'd appreciate it! Here," you adjusted Mikey before passing the toddler into Vincent's arms carefully, "just support him here," you guided his arms to the right spaces and ignored the way your heart melted seeing him asleep in someone's arms. Reminded you of easier times before you and your partner split. "Lemme grab Peter and we can head upstairs." Vincent nodded to you and waited patiently by the stairs as you stole Peter back from Bo.

You felt the pair's eyes on you as you wished them goodnight from over your shoulder and headed upstairs with Vincent trailing behind. He carried Mikey like he was fragile, breakable, and you found it incredibly endearing. You set Peter down onto the bed, nestled back in the little blanket fort to prevent them from rolling off the bed, kissing him softly goodnight. Vincent mirrored your actions with Mikey and just stroked his cheek with his thumb in lieu of a kiss. "Thanks for your help. All three of you," you whispered to him. Vincent looked at you, shadows hiding his eyes from you. "It means the world to me that you're all willing to help. I know the boys appreciate it too." You smiled at him as you stood quietly. "I should get to bed," you trailed off and Vincent nodded but didn't leave the room.

Instead, he reached his hand out towards you before tilting his head, asking permission. You gave him a curious nod and felt his hand touch your cheek, stroking under your eye like he'd done to Mikey. "Night Vincent," you whispered and ignored how your face warmed up.

He shut the door as he stepped out of the room,padding down to rejoin his brothers in the living room. None of them said a word to each other but they all had the same thought: they wanted you to stay.

The next morning, Bo collected your car and brought it to the gas station to fill back up. You'd chatted about your plans to keep going west when he'd mentioned missing you. "Place jus' feels more lively with you 'round, s'all." He'd shrugged, feigning nonchalance. 

You'd gestured to the empty streets before climbing into the passenger's seat. "You sure that ain't just because this town is quiet as is?"

Bo just gave you a smile. 

When you tried to start your car, it seemed to spur, dead. "What the-?"

"Everythin' alright?" He asked, leaning against the window frame.

"It sounds like the battery's dead?" You frowned, trying again to start the car.

Bo jerked his head, urging you to follow him. "Lemme take a look." You followed him around to the hood of your car and he flipped it open. He hummed as he looked around, face screwing up in surprise. "Your fan belt tore."

"My what?" You blinked owlishly at him. He gave you a look of bewilderment and you just sighed. "You definitely know more about cars than me."

He snorted at you and slammed the hood closed. "I don't think I got any in the shop but I could order one for ya and have it in a few days."

That wouldn't do. "I- I need to get back on the road soon." Panic began to rise in your chest and tighten your throat. "If we're found here, then I'd have to…" You didn't want to think about it, you said to yourself as you squeezed your eyes shut. Obviously you had a plan if you got caught but you really, really, didn't want it to come to that.

Bo nudged you gently and gave you a warm smile. "Hey, we'll look out for ya. Ain't no one gonna hurt'cha here in Ambrose. Not get many tourists anywhere, doubt they'd think to look for ya here."

You sighed. You didn't exactly have much of a choice. If your car wouldn't start, you'd just have to wait.

The two of you were walking back to the house and you felt Bo kept glancing at you. Right before you were going to ask about it, he spoke up. "I know ya wanna go see the House of Wax. Which is all fine 'n good, but ya gotta know somethin' 'fore you go there."

"Sure..?" You said plainly.

Bo sighed loudly, rubbing his hand over his mouth. "So, when Mama got sick, Vince had been away at a real good art college." You nodded along to show you were listening. Bo looked guilty. "When she got worse, I needed help takin' care'a her. Lester and I were away workin' and she needed someone at home. So, uh, near her end…" He sighed again. "I called him back home. It's, uh, still a sore spot. Wasn't able to go back, since he got in on scholarships. An' we didn't have the funds anyway, her bills were too much."

The silence was deafening. "I'm sorry." You said, at a loss for words. "I- I won't bring it up then."

"I 'preciate it. He an' I don't talk 'bout it anymore. If he goes with ya, just don't ask."

You nodded, giving Bo a small smile. "I'm sure he doesn't blame you for it."

The man smiled back at you but you could see it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah. Maybe."

Taking a small sidestep, you bumped your shoulders together. "I know so."

Later that night, things changed.

You'd gone to bed after showering and bathing the boys, the three of you all fast asleep in the bedroom. Vincent and Bo had gone to their own rooms while Lester slept on the couch. None of you heard the two cars that pulled into the town, driving slowly down the streets looking for any sign of life. After no luck at the first few houses, a small group of people approached the Sinclair's house, heavy footfalls making the little porch staircase creak under the stress.

They knocked on the front door and a dog could be heard barking in the backyard.

Lester had stumbled awake in surprise, his brain taking a minute to catch up. No one should be at the door because nobody else was alive in Ambrose. He still went to the door, opening it with a tired yawn. "Yeah?"

A man smiled at him, an acidic look that made bile burn the back of Lester's throat. "I'm looking for someone. Do you happen to know if there's been someone visiting your town?"

Freezing, Lester immediately recognized the man. Even though they'd never met face to face, he knew everything about this man. All child abusers look the same, Lester thought as he recalled his father. They all look like scum.

"Well, I ain't too sure. I work the night shift, I jus' got home. But my brother Bo might'a seen 'em. He works down at the autoshop." He said through a yawn. 

"I'd hope so. Considering their car is in his shop." The man smiled, trying to force his way into the door, calling your name.

Lester shoved him back, slamming the door and locking it with a loud thud. He ignored your ex's screaming as he ran up the stairs. 

Bo was opening his door before Lester could even knock. "The hell're you-?!"

"Guests." Lester panted, frozen in place as he kept an ear out in case your door opened. "Their ex is here."

His brother's eyes widened and he stormed to Vincent's door, knocking once before opening. He tore the blankets off Vincent and shook him viciously. "Get up, get the knives, we got intruders."

Vincent snapped awake, blinking through sleep-mussed hair. "Mm?" He said around his exhausted yawn.

"Intruders! Vince! Now!" Bo snapped. "I'll get my shotgun. You helpin' out, Les?"

Lester huffed, thinking it over. "Y'know I ain't a killer, right?"

Bo didn't have time for this. "You helpin' or NOT, Les?"

The younger brother sighed. "Does dad still keep a spare gun in his office?"

"Did he ever stop?" Bo said with a smirk, pulling his boots on his feet.

Vincent stumbled to his feet, putting his own boots on to sneak back down into the basement. If he went down and through the House of Wax, they could pin the group down. Bo'd meet them head on while Lester slipped around the side of the house to catch the strays. They vowed to make quick work of all of them but save your ex for last.

The Sinclair brothers were going to protect you. No matter what.

[herpsandbirds]

Hi Paxon! Lately I've been working on recovering from burnout and rediscovering things that make me happy. Could you give me some sort of interesting animal that you think would spark joy? Any sort will do. Thank you kindly!

Round frogs always spark joy for me!

Rose’s Rain Frog (Breviceps rosei), family Brevicipitidae, Western Cape, South Africa

photograph by Tyrone Ping

Banded Bullfrog aka Asian Painted Bullfrog (Kaloula pulchra), male calling, family Microhylidae, Kuala Tahan, Pahang, Malaysia

photograph by Bernard DUPONT 

Muller’s Termite Frog (Dermatonotus muelleri), family Microhylidae, found in Argentina, Bolivia, Brazil, and Paraguay

photograph by Dick Bartlett 

Madagascar Tomato Frog (Dyscophus antongilii), family Microhylidae, Madagascar

photograph via: mongabay.com

Squat Frog (Glyphoglossus capsus), family Microhylidae, Borneo

Described in 2014.

This frog was originally in the genus Calluella. This genus has now been placed in the genus Glyphoglossus.

photograph via:

Red hot chili pepper. A new Calluella stoliczka, 1872 (Lissamphibia: Anura: Microhylidae) from Sarawak, East Malaysia (Borneo) - PubMed (nih.gov)

[mclalan]

Can you share what your art-making process is? What software and tools do you use?? I'm falling in love with your work!!

Thank you, I'm so happy you like my work and are interested in the process. The short answer is I mostly use Adobe Animate.

I hate how I'm using an Adobe product (although I still regard it as a MacroMedia Flash product), but there's just no other software that compares to its jankiness. Perhaps it's just my long familiarity with the program, but nothing I've experienced matches how it simultaneously feels like drawing in MS Paint and using Microsoft PowerPoint vector shapes. The result is something that feels in-between the two; handmade yet computer-generated.

Typically, I'll start with a hand-drawn sketch, often beginning as a thumbnail done with pencil and paper.

I'll then do a mix of hand drawing and vector shape tool rendering. I use the Paint Brush tool to hand draw strokes, and the line and shape tools mixed with transform to make more geometrically accurate shapes. The design is rendered into divided closed loop shapes, ready to be filled with a solid. The strokes are kept or removed depending on the design.

These fill shapes are then either coloured and rendered in Adobe Animate, using fills, gradients, or a more complex process of masks and effects.

Alternatively, I'll bring all these vector shapes into Photoshop and use them as clipping masks. The vector shapes act like masking taped areas or shields to maintain sharp edges, while the brush is like an atomized airbrush used to build soft volumed forms.

Please excuse all that horrible Adobe Cloud and AI bloatware...

And there we go!

Variations in the process include just using MS Paint, index color in Photoshop, or 3D programs.

Very old works of mine were almost abstract, just exploring digital mark-making, which was a trend I was following in the mid 2010s that I loved. This kind of stuff.

While my current work uses its digital material specificity as an intermediary to the subject in the illustration.

For example, #ersatz.world parodies clip-art and flash edutainment styles but imagines the characters living within that kind of world. The designs are meant to be cute, easy to read, light in computer processing, but also irreverent, janky, and generic too.

People typically regard this sort of clip art style as ephemeral trash, but I always found them charming. I use Ersatz World primarily as a satire vehicle, parodying educational formats to spoof corporate explainer content and digital media.

However, part of the problem with Ersatz is I've made it look too polished, complex, and I've grown too attached to the characters, which I imagine is a typical issue with overbuilding a world. So recently, I've made an even jankier Ersatz-like set of characters to play about with, using an even simpler style with less cohesion. I like to try and use slightly different styles and digital material styles to relate to the property at hand.

That’s why #autonymus has a bitmap digital material and a denser feel to it. Unlike Ersatz, Autonymus is not meant to be an overt semi-meta fiction. It’s not exactly pixel art, but the pixels are just about visible, as the intention is to create a digital expressionist depth to the setting. Although it’s still stylized and not realistic to our world, I definitely still want to evoke semblances of our world. That’s why there’s attention to landscape, plant life, and implied life beyond what you see in the frame with the characters, etc. But I'm still making a cartoon, and I still want it to feel at ease with itself being a digital material work. Characters are therefore flat, simple, stiff, and the speech style is like a bad Shakespeare parody. I like to balance between ugly and appealing, simple and complex, familiar and unfamiliar.

In regard to things like inspiration, references, and my relationship to aesthetic genres; these things certainly factor into my work, perhaps I'm even overtly dependent on them. My work can definitely be post-modernist in method; creating new, ironic, or fragmented interpretations through deconstructing a mix of various styles or methods. But at the same time, I'm still trying to make a digital gestural representation where the aesthetic is driven by my relationship to the software and techniques directly—not simply in an attempt to reference a style. For example, I like drawing lines in sweeping strokes, not to a point of geometric perfection, but just in a way where the curves are smooth and simple. But if I want perfectly curved or straight lines, I'll use the vector tools.

Working this way, you can sort of learn why certain styles and design choices in past vector aesthetics were made, as they would have also needed to make similar choices. That’s why I’m more mindful of using digital material specificity as a foundation to build narrative and subjects upon these days.

For example, genre references like cyberpunk clichés for #cyberhell or late medieval design for #autonymus or 2005 to 2015 era subculture fashion for #gradientgoblinz.

I think it’s important to take inspiration and reference from a wide variety of sources, but I think they’d mean nothing without having something to say or express. Autonymus, although it is a collection of tropes and clichés, isn’t just about that. It’s a story about the tensions of socially constructed systems and how that shapes faith, technology, and the natural world, or at least that's what I'm aiming for anyway.

But despite all that, I think there’s a danger of locking myself into the past by using these methods. For example, using nostalgia and references to past aesthetics can result in just recreating the past in a form of role-play. To avoid that, I try and evoke the past through a messy, inaccurate pastiche rather than caring to accurately re-enact anything. I’m probably not always successful at communicating the deliberateness of this, and it can certainly get very frustrating and pedantic. To be honest, I do kind of hate aesthetic labels (terms like Y2K, global coffee house, utopian scholastic designs from a pre-9/11 world).

I do not believe that a project aimed solely at mapping history through aesthetic styles is worthwhile. Sure, they can be handy for organizing style trends, but they can also be reductive and ahistoric. Who are these people to define the history of these design eras? The result is a kind of suffocating simulation of design history but removed from context, perfect for moodboardism. I wish it felt more tongue-in-cheek, less absolute of itself in its own practice. Instead, it acts to legitimize and engender those making these labels, almost giving them ownership of the design styles. It’s similar to the logic and process of generative AI and its databases in a way, just done manually.

I’m very inspired by artists like Oneohtrix Point Never in this regard, as I think he’s able to create an aesthetic portal to all kinds of memories, feelings, and worlds reminiscent of the past, while still being in the present. It’s more a reflection of how timelines are messy now, like a memory or dream, rather than an audacity to say the past was actually like that, or to try to actually map some kind of timeline.

I think the benefit of this process is how it avoids the other side of the spectrum—being locked into chasing the cutting edge of digital processes. I don't necessarily think using an old digital process means your work inherits the semiotics of old aesthetics. Non-digital mediums don’t have this issue to this degree, as you can still paint in oils and be considered contemporary, or at least it's not frowned upon to such a degree. And I also don't think anyone in the heyday of Flash ever made work the same as I do, especially as computers are more powerful now so can handle more. I probably shouldn't boast too much about that though, as artists at the time probably just had more sense than to use Flash like a painting program! So then, why is my use of Adobe Animate critiqued as obsolete and an aesthetic dead-end? Because to whose standards is this process obsolete? If you value digital aesthetics as an apparatus in industry practice, then sure, my work is redundant.

But as wonderful as the latest tech can be in creating new aesthetics, I do feel it can be overtly dependent on the trends and directions of tech corporations, and therefore act as an indirect propaganda tool to their hegemony over digital aesthetics, such as the ever-demanding processing power needed for simulated realism. If anything, work that does follow in the direction of the latest tech trends is ironically the quickest to date once the trends move on.

I've noticed I've not really described what my work is about, just the process, in this text. But I don't know, maybe I like Flash because it is regarded as redundant. No one really cares about it, so I feel free to make whatever I want, and can decide on form myself, to my own standards, the quality of my work. As fun as making images is, I find it difficult to put into words what it is exactly I'm expressing in my work, and perhaps that would spoil it anyway.