#im losing my mind and dont know what to do. i want to do art stuff on stream to try to promote my work and sell things/get comms

[novasillies]

to nose or not to nose. that is the question.

a hot new human(?) bill enters the villa

[alchemiclee]

my dad swears we have the fastest internet my isp offers (I looked it up and its 1GB, while the slowest is 300mps) but when I test my speed, it's on average 3-5mps. P A I N.

[hysteria-things]

hi! i recently found your account, and i js wanna say omg ur so talented, like ur fr my new fav writer. could u maybe write something about a virgin reader, whos only ever fingered herself, and so when matt (or chris but im a matt girl and im being self indulgent about this), and she squirts, and is super embarrassed about it and he comforts her about it? u dont have to, but idk i js think u could do this idea rlly well:)

FIRST TIME

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!matt x virgin!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you and matt have been together for quite sometime, but never had sex. he knows you’re a virgin and he’s so patient with you, but now you think you’re ready

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT but fluff!, making out, mini panic attack, praising, p in v, squirting

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,066

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: for anon and @mattsleftnipple03

these were pretty much the same so i combined them! hope you like :)

thank you and love you guys🫶

the pen in your hand scribbles on the piece of paper in front of you as you ponder. you’re in art class and your best friend sits across from you at the big table.

art class is basically a free period because let’s face it, you guys don’t do anything except gossip and draw for fun.

you’ve been asking your friend a series of questions about what losing your virginity is like since she has experience. the only experience you’ve ever gotten was your fingers, and to be honest, it gets old after a while.

you’re not embarrassed about being a senior in high school and still a virgin, but your boyfriend who graduated last year lost his with his ex a while back. you guys have talked about having sex for the first time for quite some time, but you were never ready.

no words can describe how grateful you are for matt. he’s been super patient and understanding with you.

but now, you think you’re ready.

“is there a reason you are asking me these questions?” your best friend asks, raising a brow.

you shrug, your hand still having a mind of its own with the pen. “i’m thinking about going all the way with matt.”

she smiles, genuinely looking happy for you. “oh my god! when?”

“i told him i plan on this weekend.”

“that’s so exciting!”

“yeah, but,” you pause to take a deep breath. “i feel nervous.”

she reaches over to stop your drawing hand. “it’s totally normal to feel nervous. matt’s such a sweet guy. i’m sure if you feel the slightest bit of discomfort, he’ll stop immediately.”

you smile at the mention of your boyfriend. she’s not wrong. matt will do anything to make you feel comfortable. he’s not one to force anything on someone. “you’re right.”

she gives your hand a light squeeze. “let me know how it goes.” she winks just as the bell rings for dismissal.

the rain outside is pattering on the window, you and matt cuddling comfortably on his bed. you guys just woke up from the best nap of your life.

you nibble on the inside of your mouth. “matt?”

“hm?” he hums, picking up his head that was resting on your chest.

“i want to do it.”

he beams at you. “positive?”

you bite your lip in excitement and nod. matt lifts himself to get more serious. “don’t be afraid to tell me to stop, okay?”

“i know,” you reply. he leans in and kisses you passionately with a hint of hunger. he breaks the kiss to take off his and your shirt but goes back at it to unclip your bra.

the skin-to-skin contact felt warm and comforting, but your anxiety is starting to take over.

you try to brush it off until matt reaches for your pants. yanking his hands away, you cover your top half with the comforter as you feel tears start to form.

matt freezes, a hint of guilt on his face. you try your best to take as many deep breaths as possible. “i’m so sorry, y/n.”

he carefully places his hand on your arm and rubs soothingly to calm you down. “n-no it’s not you.” you take three deep breaths before continuing. “it’s silly. the thought of a penis about to be inside of me freaks me out.”

you chuckle along with him, the humor helping you relax. “we don’t have—”

“i want to.” you say truthfully. “i just need a second.”

he goes through different breathing techniques with you until you calm down from your mini panic attack. he asks if you're okay at least a hundred times before you shut him up by kissing him again.

he hesitates with your pants not wanting to trigger you again, but after a beat, he pulls them down with your underwear.

his pajama pants soon end up on the floor with the rest of your clothes. he comes under the blanket with you and pecks you on the temple, grabbing a condom from the nightstand. “so proud of you.” he starts, making you blush. “you ready?”

you give him the okay, and he slowly starts pushing into you. the stretch makes you cringe and hiss, causing him to halt. “hurts?”

you shake your head. “pressure… keep going.”

dampening your lips by licking them, he continues to move. his eyes are dead set on your face to sense any discomfort. you let out a ‘mmph’ when he’s all the way in.

when he doesn’t see any bad signs, he starts moving his hips. you moan softly, the pain turning into pleasure.

“you can go faster,” you whisper, and he does. your nails leave crescent marks on his shoulders as he peppers kisses on your chest, neck, and face.

you squeeze your eyes closed, the softest of sounds leaving your lips. then, your legs twitch, and a watery liquid squirts out of you. your eyes widen, and matt stops the second he notices. “what’s wrong? need me to stop?”

“no. i think i…” your cheeks burn, too embarrassed to admit what you’re thinking.

“that’s okay. it’s completely natural.” he reassures, grabbing one of your hands to interlock with his above your head. “you’re doing so well, y/n. so fucking proud of you.”

he continues to rock his hips, this time pulling out more and thrusting back in a smidge harder. “oh.” you moan, arching your back when he starts hitting a certain spot. “oh shit, matt. just like that.”

he tries his best not to pick up speed to scare you, so instead he keeps the rhythm you’re comfortable with. he grunts, taking the hand that’s not holding yours and placing it on your hip.

the grip you have on his hand tightens, indicating that you’re close when his tip keeps abusing your g-spot.

you whimper, your legs starting to quiver from pleasure. “i’m close.”

“cum, baby. you’re doing such a good job.”

you sigh of relief when your cum slowly starts to ooze around him. matt’s right there with you with just a few more thrusts before spilling into the condom.

the feeling of him pulling out of you makes you wince, but then you two giggle. “i did it!” you say proudly, holding up your hand to give him a high five.

he laughs. “damn right you did.” he takes your high five, followed by a handhold.

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72

[withonly-sweetheart]

Back to the Sea

The mysterious stranger on the boat happens to be your roommate and you can't help but wonder who he is. Something about him captivates you, but what happens when an artist loses his brush?

a/n: so... this is all @chesue00's fault. dont get me wrong ilysm pookie but i cannot tell you how much this was going through my head the entire day like i wanted to get home so badly and write this i almost told my teach to fuck off... but thank u ur so talented it hurts like that inspired me sm and thats what art should do! ty! <333

tw: angst?? bc its not my fic unless its got angst (hopefully...) uhm mentions of like illnesses and the flu and stuff but idk help

wc: 5.2k - yes im not even kidding i wrote this all tdy and its not even grammar checked will do that later hehehehehe <333

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue across the vast expanse of the ocean, you sit at the edge of the ship, gaze fixed on the endless waves stretching out before her. The gentle sway of the ship beneath you, the salty sea air mingling with the haunting cries of the seagulls soaring overhead; it all served as a reminder of sorrow and loss that clings to you like a heavy shroud.

You take it between your fingers, as if you can feel the harsh, unforgiving ivory material form under your hand, and wrap it around yourself tighter, cherishing the small bursts of warmth you get from sitting up here.

Each wave that laps against the side of the ship fails to cover the whispers of the crowd steadily disappearing around you, pointing fingers shamelessly, wondering why a girl your age is sitting, all alone, staring wistfully out at the cerulean abyss.

Someone clears their throat behind you. The last thing you want is to be bothered, so you twist over your shoulder to dismiss them, but somewhere up your throat, the words clump together into a soft gasp.

You have seen him around the ship, when you were first boarding, but you didn’t get the best look at him. Now that you do, you know one thing as true as the sky is blue.

He’s breathtaking. His eyes, reflecting the azure of the ocean, flash with lightning quick irritation, as if your presence inconveniences him. The curve of his lips set in a straight line, tightening almost imperceptibly, jaw clenching ever so slightly.

If you weren’t looking so hard, you could’ve missed it all. 

But how could you miss anything he does, when each ripple of his feature is like a brushstroke? An artist’s slow, deliberate intentions, painting the man in front of you.

“You are taking up the seat,” he mumbles, so quietly you almost don’t catch it. “Apologies,” you respond, shifting to make room for him. The dip between his eyebrows deepens and you find yourself frowning back. “Is something wrong?”

His gaze clouds, turning a muffled shade of gray. “No.”

You hum in response before turning back to the ocean. The heavy silence writhes between them, its unseen grip tightening with each breath. Your mind churns, sensing dark depths his haunted eyes warn away.

So you stand and stroll away, not sparing a glance at the brooding figure. You don’t wish to descend into his sorrow. You have enough of your own, and the tension crackling between you is nearly tangible. 

You know well that behind every handsome man, there is a troubled mind.

And the windows to those thoughts are the eyes.

<><><><>

“If the brothe bee to sweete, put in the more wine, or els a litle vineger.” 

You recall this line from a cookbook your mother once owned as you stare down at the barely distinguishable liquid in a bowl in front of you. Chips of wood flake off and dissolve into the mess of what you think are minced vegetables pooling at the bottom. Though the bubbles of oil faintly remind you of home, nothing else is the same.

You can’t remember the last time you had traditional soup, from the homeland, where everyone's the same as you and food is plentiful, rich in the scent of tangy spices and fresh vegetables and ripe fruit, where the forest birds sing sweet melodies in your ear.

But you are no longer there. It will, as all things do, fade with time, resolving as just a landscape drawn in your head, reduced to nothing but scribbles.

With a sigh far too troubled for your age, you gingerly push the bowl away, careful not to slosh any of it over the edge. You know you are being picky; food is food, and starvation will slowly creep up on you when you least expect it.

But it is better to starve than throw yourself from the starboard, letting the choppy waves consume you. Hunger takes time, crescendoing pain and ache until you cannot bear it. Suffering will suffice, at this moment.

And across the dining hall, the small room housing yet a few late night eaters, you spot him saunter in. Long, black trench coat brushing his ankles, a hat you did not see that now casts shadows upon his chiseled face.

His overalls strain with effort and crumple into wrinkles as he sits a few tables away, raising a hand, wordlessly summoning a bowl of soup that carries from tentative hands. He waves the aged woman away, and perhaps he does not catch the longing look in her eyes.

She has not seen a man so divine in years. Her time at sea has clouded her judgment. This is yet another reason why you must traverse the ocean blue, to prevent the jobs piling up at what you thought was your home, near the port, where the docks carry back the ashes of your family.

You used to love the ocean, the beach, the shores. When the sea hurt you, your father would kiss the tears away, murmuring soft assurance in the shell of your small ear. Although she was nearly a decade older, your sister would never decline an offer of yours to hunt for the little creatures that popped up from the swirling sand, watching them disappear underneath your slow hands.

You miss them. Influenza never failed to take, take, take; the greedy fingers latched on to your family before you could arrive home that day to sick corpses so pale you could not recognize them.

The doctor had suggested a traditional burial,but you knew there was one more thing the sea needed. You lit the pyres, watched their souls mingle with the smoke that gasped for the clouds, and waited.

When all that was left of your loved ones was charred, ivory dust that seemed to sparkle back at you, unaware of its fate, you gathered it into a pot that your grandmother gifted you.

The ocean rejected your offering, at first. It veered away, pulling water from the shore lines, but you stood fast. And it came back, gathered what was already gone, and took it away from you.

The sea never fails to remind you of what you’ve lost.

But here, on the ship, a marvel of engineering, keeping you afloat, you are not truly with the sea. You will not make yourself mold to the pitiful, lonely girl everyone expects you to be. 

With that resolve, you cradle the soup back to your chest, staring it down with defiant eyes. The ocean will not have another victim, you will make sure of that.

It burns your throat all the way down, saltier than the sea. Bile raises to combat it but you force spoon after spoon into your stomach. All that remains from your battle is the wood, which you tried your best to separate from the soup, but you are sure that you definitely swallowed at least some of it.

As the thinnest definition of dinner warms your insides against the cold that threatens to seep in, your eyes find him across the galley. He sits alone, as always, nursing a tin cup and gazing into its contents as if answers lay within.

You recall your chance encounter in the night, the rare moments of grace amid tumult never far from his eyes. Though he often keeps away from the streams of people, you have the feeling it has less to do with aloofness than wounds not easily unveiled.

As if finally sensing your gaze, his eyes lift and meet yours across the dusty space. There seems to be no cracks in his steely expression, his stormcloud eyes, but there is a flicker of emotion - curiosity, or perhaps kinship's first stirrings. 

You offer the barest nod before returning focus to your meager meal. Yet all the while, currents stronger than the sea pull at your thoughts, drawing them ever back towards that quiet figure and mysteries that beg to be revealed. You tilt your head to the side, rubbing fingers down your neck, feeling your pulse race underneath your skin. Massaging the area, you force yourself to relax.

You force yourself to believe that those eyes haven’t jarred your thoughts.

<><><><>

“I must… have the wrong room.” Those same eyes stare back at you, hands trembling slightly around parchment yellowing at the edges, swirling with confusion. “I apologize.”

“It wouldn’t, by chance, be 930, would it?” you ask. 

“Er… yes,” he admits with a dip of his head, looking almost embarrassed by the situation. “I suppose I’ll go request another-”

“It’s quite alright,” you race to say before you can stop yourself. “I do not mind.”

A small corner of his mouth lifts, if only for a second, and when his expression goes back to being neutral, you find yourself wanting to coax more emotions from him. 

You help him get settled in, telling him he could take the bed on the right. When he’s finished fussing with the sheets, you sit on your respective mattresses, awkwardly staring down at your hands.

"I... thank you," he finally replies, his voice soft. "I did not expect to find understanding here."

“Your name, sir?”

“Leon. Your name, I already know.”

“How fascinating.”

“You are a… popular subject of gossip upon this vessel.”

“Why are you traveling to England?” you ask, finding yourself making small talk to switch the topic. “Are you simply traveling?”

“Yes.” 

“Where is your hometown?” His eyes glaze over with the familiar homesickness you can recognize.

"My home lies in a small village far from here," he replies, gazing into memories only he could see. "A quiet place, surrounded by green countryside and simple folks." His eyes find yours with rare openness. "And you? What brings one so young to cross the sea alone?"

“I’m paying my lovely aunt a visit,” you say vaguely, trying to make your voice light. But he must hear the undertones of it, because he cocks his head to the side, arching a golden eyebrow.

“Is that so?” he muses. “I hope you enjoy your trip.”

“I’ve noticed you carry that briefcase around quite a bit,” you say, quickly changing the subject. “Is it dear to you?”

He laughs, a warm, rich tone that sparks something in your heart. 

Maybe… just… maybe?

“Not so,” he explains. He leans over to grab the case resting on the nightstand and clicks it open. “This is the reason I am traveling, you see.”

You peer over the top of the rusty case to reveal… pencils?

“You are… an artist?” you ask, slightly confused. You hadn’t taken him for a participant of the fine arts, but at your query, his eyes seem to light with an inspiration not previously there.

“I have lost my flame,” he says slowly, cautiously, as if placing his words carefully. “I thought England would fix… the problem… but perhaps… you could help me?” At your face, he bites his lip. "A smooth sea never makes a skilled sailor, as they say."

“Who has ever said that, and who am I to decline a stranger in need?” You chuckle, and his grin seems to usurp his entire expression. 

“You need not do anything,” he rushes to say, hands flurrying to unpack the materials carefully stowed away in the briefcase. The determined, set look on his face is enough to convince you, and even if it hadn’t, realistically, would you be able to say no?

He stills suddenly, observing you, sweeping over you, drinking in everything, as if to absorb your being. When his gaze meets yours, he smiles and it truly reaches his previously emotionless eyes.

“You are… perfect,” he whispers. He holds his pencil up, bottom lip disappearing as he frowns, grumbling in frustration. “But this lighting is… not quite correct.”

Leon eyes the room, then stands suddenly. You watch him, watch him drag a chair from the small writing desk over to the foot of his bed, planting it firmly. He points a finger to the empty space, gesturing for you to sit there.

“What exactly are you planning?” You ask with a smile.

The one he returns matches your curiosity. “We shall see.”

And that is exactly how, a few minutes later, you sit with your legs crossed, hands folded over one another in your lap, with a soft smile decorating your face.

“You must stay still,” he chastises, gazing at you with a languid look in his eyes, voice dreamy, as if he sees something in you that you can’t.

“You have not yet answered my question.” You ignore the red blooming up your neck at his fluttering gaze. He lounges further into the bed, hiding more of himself away, spinning the pencil between his fingers.

He looks almost thoughtful as he scribbles away, muttering to himself, lost in a trance. You lean against the dresser, resting your body weight on it, feeling yourself relax.

His eyes move back to you, and he jolts, like something drastic has changed. His hands fly rapidly across the paper, gaze locked onto you. He smudges something with his finger, erases something here and there, and eventually, he huffs a sigh and leans back, looking somewhat satisfied with the paper.

Intrigued, you stand from your position, stretching your stiff joints. “May I see?”

Leon snorts a laugh. “Of course not.”

“It is my portrait, no?” You grin. “Show me.” Without another word, you lean over the foot of the bed, over the elaborate carvings of wood, and try to sneak a peek at the paper.

He lets out what you can only describe as a boyish squeal, and yanks the pad away from you, clutching it to his chest. “I said no!”

Leon tries his best to play-keep away from your hands, folding the paper carefully in half as he stuffs it into an inner pocket of his shirt. When you try to reach for it, instinctively, he flushes a red hue that matches the crimson of your bedsheets.

“Apologies,” you whisper.

“It’s alright,” he whispers back.

The air has gone back to tense, anguish, as if you are both hurtling towards something you cannot stop, racing towards a finish line in a race you do not wish to compete in. When he climbs into bed, wordlessly, you wonder what you did to deserve this torture, to have a masterpiece sleeping a few feet away. 

He purses his lips and blows out the flame in the lantern standing proud on your nightstand, murmuring a quick goodbye.

As your eyes adjust to the absence of light, you watch the blanket blow out around him, creeping over his body, hugging him tightly. His snores come quickly, gentle and quiet, not bothersome.

You sigh and close your eyes, wishing for the relief of sleep to come as fast as his.

<><><><>

Strangely enough, someone rouses you from your sleep, something you didn’t expect. Breakfast calls were a luxury reserved for those with money, but you weren’t going to complain. Missing the first meal of the day had serious consequences in your household.

This isn’t your household, though. These aren’t your rules.

And that definitely isn’t a handkeep’s fingers clutched around your arm.

“Leon?” you murmur, rubbing your eyes, savoring the fuzzy corners before every comes into focus with sudden clarity. He stands beside your bed, gaze darting here and there. 

“Oh… you are awake,” he says as he isn’t the reason it is so.

“You woke me,” you state blankly, blinking up at him.

“I suppose… well,” he mutters, then sighs, shaking his head. “Never mind that.”

“How often does this happen?” you ask quietly, sitting up. “Are you plagued by night horrors?”

“I am not a child!” he snaps, then immediately softens, regret pooling in his eyes. “It is just… I thought you had left…”

“Yet I am here, no?” you say, slightly bemused. The tips of Leon’s ears turn a salmon pink as he lets out a shuddering breath, nodding. 

“I see that,” he says with a small smile, sitting beside you, leaving enough space to respect your privacy. You return one with just as much carefully measured emotion, not wanting to scare him away, wanting him to open up.

As gray dawn spreads its thin wings slowly over calm waters, he recollects himself. He tells you fragments of his past, picking up pieces of his past until it fits into a puzzle perfectly. An orphan, talent stripped from him by the urge to survive.

You faintly think that he should also be a writer, because the way he tells his story is akin to the way an author paints a scene with just words. You can see his parents in the shadows, echoing in his laugh, in the slant of his nose, the pucker of his chin. 

He shrugs, twisting to face you. “I almost died, there, on the streets.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

His eyes meet yours, “So am I.”

Seeing him in such a vulnerable state, you can’t help but feel inclined to share what truly happened to you as well.

“I’m not… just visiting my aunt.”

A ghost of a smile graces his lips. “I was thinking as much. Tell me, what is the true purpose of your visit.”

“My family recently passed from influenza. Only sorrow trails me in the States. Perhaps returning to my hometown will provide… solace?” You offer a dry laugh, but Leon’s expression goes stony as he takes your hands into his.

“I… did not know,” he says, sounding as sincere as you’ve ever heard him. “I made such a joke without understanding the full context… I apologize.”

“It is really nothing,” you rush to assure him, but more so because the crestfallen look on his face is something you do not wish to bring upon. “I forgive you.”

“You are still tired,” he says with another sigh. “I will wake you for breakfast. Sleep.”

He’s right. Too sleepy to protest, you clutch the blankets around you and shut out not only the slowly growing beams of sunlight from the window, but also the relief that emanates from Leon’s very being, flooding over you, bringing you the peace that lets you drift off.

<><><><>

You wake to frigid air seeping through cracks in the ship's walls, clouds hiding the sun’s bright smile. Throwing off your thin blankets, you grasp the warmth, hoping it still lingers. But your hand meets only cold, empty fabric. 

Panic rises in my throat as you rush from the sleeping quarters. Out on the icy deck, figures hustle to and fro under a pale, stormy sky. Your eyes scan for one in particular, relief flooding through you as you spot his lean form near the rail, gaze lost to the sea. 

"Leon," you call softly so as not to wake the other sleeping passengers. When he turns, worry is etched into his brows. You brush it off with a shaky smile. "I had feared the night's dangers had claimed you at last." 

“At last?” His lips turn up in return, reassuring you with his movement. But you can see the shadow neither of you could outrun, not with Death stalking your decks in his grim dance. 

Drawing near, you trace his stare to the horizon, limitless and cold. You stand in front of him as he lingers behind, hesitating, arms outstretched. 

“I wish to fly, one day,” you say jokingly. “But I suppose for now, swimming will do.”

“I cannot swim,” he admits quietly. “I never will.”

“Of course you can,” you insist. “Anyone can-”

“Not everyone has lost their brother to the sea.”

 The answer burns, searing your back in the way he delivers it, venom in his voice. But eventually, he sighs, as if giving in, and you can feel him get closer.

“May I?” You admire that he asks before anything, and when you nod, he wraps his arms around your waist, pushing you gently against the railing that you clutch tightly. He rests his head on your shoulder, craning his neck to stand comfortably.

Then he speaks again. “My deepest apologies. As you can tell… I miss him.”

"Then we'll face such fears together," you say with such finality you believe it yourself. "None are meant to wander depths of sadness all alone. But your brother's memory lives on you - a gift more precious than any sea could claim. I know this. And what are you doing now?”

Slowly, you can feel his lips curl upwards against your neck, sparking at your words, growing into that smile you’ve come to cherish. 

“You wish to fly? This is as close as I can get you, beloved.”

With a grin of your own spreading across your face, you outstretch your arms, leaning into the wind, wanting to let it carry you both away. Your fingers trace the sharp line of his jaw, coming to rest on his beating pulse that lives on despite all the world has tried to steal away.

You don’t know what overtakes you, the immense feeling of admiration you feel for him, that might be what spurs you to lean in. And, much to your surprise and pleasure, as soft morning light limns sea and sky in a hopeful blend of blue, your lips meet in a kiss - brief, chaste, yet speaking everything you need to hear. 

“At least I’ll have you,” he says, melting back into your embrace, tightening his arms around your hips. “One thing the sea will never take.”

But you should’ve known.

The waters are never done taking.

<><><><>

You do not know when the screams started. All you know is that they came with the rough tides, crashing against the boat, with the crackle of thunder and smoke hissing in the air. Everyone rushes to cram into the sleeping quarters, but living near the port all your life, you know better. You know exactly what is happening.

The boat is sinking.

And strangely enough, your first thought is to find Leon. He had asked you to wait a quiet moment on the deck, and you had both dismissed the rolling clouds, steadily creeping towards you while he disappeared below the deck.

You had been hoping that he would show you his art. Now you hope that you can get him out in time. But before you can scrunch up your dress and scramble into the quarters, someone grabs your arm.

You do not see the face. You know it is not Leon, he is infinitely calmer and more gentle than the rough fingers of whoever your captor is. As you struggle to look up at the face, you are tossed into a boat that hangs on the side of the ship.

“Women and children first!” a gruff voice calls out, presumably the one that just manhandled you. You try to protest, saying you need to go back, but the small boat fills up quicker than you expect, and eventually you are being slowly lowered down onto the choppy waves.

You stand on tiptoe, trying to make out any sign of Leon on the ship, hoping he makes it out okay. The people rowing the boat harshly yank you down before pushing away from the boat. Every stroke they make takes you farther and farther away, until the dense fog shrouds the entire ship from your view.

And the unexpected happens. You hear a loud crack and the boat immediately splinters into two. The women and their children huddle to one side, the bigger side, while you and some other girls stay put, eyes fixed on where you last saw the ship.

With no one to steer, you veer back towards it and it comes into view, only this time, it is on fire. Flames lick the sides, hissing where it meets the salty sea, climbing up the ship. And you see the mess of blond hair that you so desperately recognize.

“Leon!” You shout, screaming for his attention. His eyes snap to your general direction, scanning the area with a wide, panicked expression before landing on you. Almost immediately his face softens before it returns to its stony, default look.

You are confused for a moment before he quickly surveys the area. A raft hangs from the side, unused, calling his name, and you realize with shame that your boat is starting to sink, dipping into the water.

You and the other girls lean to the other side, pleading for help. Summoning all fading strength, you yell his name once more as waves close over your head. Darkness swallows your cries, drowning them in the murky ocean depths, yet in your fleeting consciousness, your trust for him remains like the anchor you wish him to be.

Breathless, gasping, you break the surface amid a sea of shrieks and sinking debris. There through the smoke a ragged shape appears, slicing swift as any bird towards you. Strong hands grasp and haul you aboard the makeshift raft, lying there to cling and spend your remaining prayers in thanks to Leon as he attends each soul amid the roiling deep, ferrying them from the ocean’s inky grasp with steady hands and calmer gaze.

“Are you alright, dear?” he calls to you after the third and final girl is pulled to safety, gasping for breath. “I did not expect this situation whatsoever.”

“Neither did I,” you murmur, spitting the remnants of the salt in your throat back into the sea, like returning a gift. “I suppose we will be alright now.”

Leon’s face crumples. “I’m afraid not.”

You groan. “What is it now? Is it the sharks from the depths? I will fight them with my bare hands, just you watch!”

You watch his expression flash through amusement, then back to pain. “We… I…”

“What troubles you so?”

He gestures a hand to the sea around you, to the drenched figures, far too many for the raft to carry. You realize this with the drop of your heart.

“There are too many of us,” he says apologetically, like he’s only hurting you. “One of us must leave.” 

For a second, you consider pushing one of the girls off. Anything to keep him. But you realize that your selfish thoughts should not take control. You grab his hands, clutching them tightly, holding them to your chest.

“Then it shall be me.”

Leon offers a weak smile. “No.”

“No?” you sputter. “What- it was not a question!”

“It will not be the answer either, my love,” he says gently, prying his hands from yours. “I will be the last. Please make sure of that.”

And before you can plead for him to stay, his weight shifts and you can feel the raft rising again. He casts one more, sorrowful look at you before he glides into the water, descending effortlessly. You reach for him, and your fingers brush his knuckles before he disappears forever.

Before he is gone. 

Yet another loved one.

Lost to the sea.

<><><><>

You wait for an indeterminate amount of time, waiting for the news to arrive one day at your aunt’s doorstep, that he is still alive, awaiting your arrival in some uncharted region. But no such idea comes. And eventually, the denial washes away and you are left with the loss that nothing can fix.

You rock in the chair of your living room, the smell of your aunt’s soup no longer bringing saliva to your mouth, but tears to your eyes, because now everything reminds you of Leon.

The bell rings outside and you can’t bring yourself to rise and answer the door with puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Your aunt knows this, so without sparing you another look, allowing you your privacy, opens the door just a smidge.

She makes conversation with the person standing outside before turning back to you with a soft smile. She hands you an envelope, and you cannot lie when your heart races up to the sky, finding purchase in the fluffy clouds.

You cannot find the words to thank her, but she knows this as well, and walks away without another word. When she disappears behind the kitchen corner, you rush to open the letter.

The first words send your heart plummeting back to where it was, perhaps even crashing through the layer of obsidian and burrowing itself in a place where it will never return. But upon scanning the rest of the thoughtful, heartfelt message, there is a tug that forces you to check the rest of the envelope.

And when you unfurl a piece of paper, long since forgotten in your brain, you muffle a cry with the back of your hand, the parchment trembling in your five, shaky fingers.

It is the portrait Leon drew of you. It made its way back to you.

You know, after seeing this, there is one thing you must do. You lie the paper down on the round table beside you, careful to preserve it.

You wash up, put on a dress your aunt lent to you, a blue, rippling thing that seems to reflect the ocean waves back at you. You tie your hair up, wanting to look somewhat presentable. 

And you call out a goodbye to your aunt, who’s smile you can hear in her voice, evident as she waves from the kitchen, ecstatic to see you out and about. But there is only one place you must go. One thing you must do to find the closure you are aching for.

Back to where it all started.

<><><><>

Tears that are the crystals of salt found in the ocean's depths stream down your face, as unnatural as the mixture of saltwater and freshwater, where one stops, another begins.

In the ocean, you slip from your skin, thoughts descending down a mad spiral, the spirits watching as you mingle with the essence of saltwater stinging your sunburned skin. The night air does little to nothing to cool your thoughts.

Is he there? In the droplets that cradle the back of your hands, trickling from the pool cupped in your palms. You can see him standing, just a few feet away, knee deep in the water, as constant as the waves and as calm as the tides.

Leon’s hair waves in the moonlight, a silent greeting to you, cerulean bathing his face in a ghastly blue, making him seem more and more like the ghost he is.

You raise a hand, out of instinct, choking back a sob. 

A smile curves those salty, timeless lips.

“You left me too,” you whisper through tears, crystals disappearing under the crescents of water brushing against your shorts. “Why can life not just be… easy? Simple?”

Leon chuckles, face softening in sympathy. “Did you forget what I told you already?”

You lift your head, rubbing granules of sand against your nose to muffle your sniffling. “What?” His grin is somehow both brighter than the moon and darker than the water you can’t see through.

“A smooth sea never makes a skilled sailor.”

[ask-october-fox]

Hey OctoberFox! Welcome back! I've been a spirit viewing from afar ever since my partner introduced me to your existence a few years ago, so happy to see you're doing well! We always make sure to stock up on apple cider frycakes when we can (and apples, of course), so if you'd like an offering we can set some aside at a shrine.

I wanted to ask you a question... well, maybe advice is the better word to choose here. I've been diving into a lot of things over the past couple of years: voice acting, blender/3D art, and coding to name a few. However, I often find myself either losing all confidence or interest in these things (that I find myself loving to do) after a few weeks of investment. As an entity that has continued to push forward and return with dedication year after year, do you have any words of wisdom you could offer this lost spirit? I apologize if I'm asking for too much, but different perspectives makes a complete picture and I feel like knowing yours would be helpful.

Hello dear spirit! I am so glad that you could join me this year! Also a an extended "thank you" to your partner for introducing my little corner of the world to you. I hope you have been enjoying it. As for your question, that is a tough one I would have to say, but do know that the feelings that you have are very normal. Im not too sure what to tell you in terms of you losing interest- unless losing interest is part of the losing confidence, but either way please dont be hard on yourself for having a fleeting passion for one project before moving to another. I suppose that inspiration is a finicky thing like that! As for the losing confidence, please know that this happens to literally everyone. I think part of that can be how we see others around us, social media has a tendency to show usually the best of someone's work all while hiding the mistakes, trials, and errors to get where they are now. To be honest, it is very hard to be where we want to be with the hobbies and passions that we love, because for most of us, there is no true ceiling. Once we reach one step, we're already looking ahead trying to get to the next, and then the next, and so on. Its a want to be better, to strive for more, and its a beautiful and frustrating thing. If it helps at all, when I first started as a spirit guide I was... not very good at it. I had no idea what I was doing or what I was supposed to do! I made so many mistakes, its almost embarrassing to admit. But I kept going, because for all the mistakes I made, there were times when I could help someone, and when I could help one person.. I could help two.. or three. Each person I helped has become a memory that I keep close to my heart, and when I feel like maybe I cant do this, I try and remember those times. If I can make one person smile, or offer some words of comfort; if I can do one good thing for someone, then I know im going in the right direction. Its because of you spirits is what has kept my own fire alive for all these years, and because of that I want to be better not just for myself, but for all of you as well. Also another thing to keep in mind is that projects and hobbies are meant to be fun! If they start to become work, or a drag, step away from it. Dont turn something that you love into something that you hate all due to some imaginary pressure to be perfect from the get go. After all life is short, yes? Why spend that time not enjoying yourself? So keep going! Keep trying! Keep making mistakes and keep learning! Try new things and try old things! After all, if you feel like youve hit rock bottom.. then the only other way to go is up. I hope that wasnt too lengthy, but if they helped you-even a little, then know that will be another memory that I will carry with me for the rest of my days. Take care, spirit. Be kind to yourself 🤍🖤🧡🕯️

.....are those treats still available...? 👀

[cowboy-robooty]

something that i think is sooooo stupid is this obsession people have with being "good for their age" at art. i know a million people say this and talk about this sentiment being harmful already but i really do think it is a terrible way to think about things. Art is a skill just like being good at math or playing basketball and I think its stupid when people put the worth of their skillset in tandem with their age because also it completely disregards the notion of how everybody lives in different ways. Michaelangelo was so good at art not only because he was a genius but also because bro literally woke up every mf day and only drew since he was a little baby so no shit he could make amazing sculptures in his early 20s. Everyone lives with so many different responsibilities and different amounts of freetime, so really i think its quite stupid to say someone is "good for their age" because that doesnt say anything about their ability to budget their time or naturally progress or commit to the grind despite everything or really anything at all since you dont have any idea about what kind of life they live. There are crazy artists out there who go to cram school for 11 hours a day on top of extracirriculars + volunteer work and still manage to create with the same skill level as someone who is the president of going home club. You dont know the resource of time that is ACTUALLY avaliable to one person compared to others using their age, so its stupid to act as though that its such a big deal. I personally dont think ive ever been good at drawing for my age and thats fine because I dont care about that. I could be good at drawing for my age if i committed more freetime to practicing it, but i dont because i dont want to. just like how i could be a super scholar whiz at chemistry or something but im not because I dont want to spend all my freetime doing problems and reading textbooks. I dont think the progress id make in those kinds of skills are worth missing watching a movie with my friends or learning how to bake a cake or enjoying a walk on a trail. I think anybody can be a genius at anything if they put their mind to it, but it also comes at great suffering most of the time because a lot of sacrifices have to be made and being able to embrace the choices you make with the limited time you have is important to being happy with what you have. Like yknow celebrating the stuff you were able to collect instead of mourning all the things you wish you had. I think only very few people are actually good at art for their age, like how einstein is one of the few people who was for real smart for his age and that is okay because what matters is having something you feel passion in doing. For a lot of people if they actually forced themselves to sacrifice what they needed to in order to be "good for their age" they would probably lose the passion in their craft during that process; which is probably one of the only ways to make the skill of drawing useless.

[kaihuntrr]

one-year anniversary!

HI. oh my goodness can you believe its been a WHOLE YEAR (and a day, im posting this a day later OOPS-) since i started working on this au? i dont think i started working on the chapters until... the -ber months? but the general brainstorming started now and oh my GOD the amount of changes that has happened while working on this au is insane! im absolutely floored with how much people enjoy this au, and while im too busy to be posting art (im doing some personal work!) i have all the time in the world to talk about how much this means to me.

i've written things in the past, but i havent for the LIFE of me worked on such a long project such as this (we're only halfway through act one of FIVE!) and learning and growing with such wonderful betas and partner (ehehe @mewhoismyself hello there) is just so wonderful <3

SO! in order to make this anniversary special, i've decided to post a little cut/practice scene from act two! this couldnt make the cut with what the plot has in mind, but i figured itd be best to have some nice moments with scott and martyn, eh?

OH! and before i go, the next chapter will be posted a day earlier! <3 im going abroad the day after the original chapter posting date, so i need to rest. i think this back half of the fic is gonna be really something <3

anyway, i wont keep you here for longer. i hope you have a fun time reading this, just as much as my partner and i had fun writing this so many months ago <33

Martyn tried to listen as Scott rambled on about what he’d been up to, how nice it had been to see his friends again. He even tried to let the small twist of jealousy at Scott being so happy over seeing someone else wrench his attention back into the moment, but it didn’t work. The face of Pearl kept flashing in the forefront of his mind, her eyes and jagged scar glowing unnaturally under the moonlight. 

“Oh, and…,” Scott continued to ramble on, but Martyn still couldn’t focus. It seemed that Scott had noticed as his voice trailed off and he looked at the blonde with a tilted head. “Martyn…?”

Martyn gave a grumbled response. His mind blocked out the world around him as he pictured brief flashes of the island, the hollow and desolate stares of the people, the wicked laugh coming from Pearl….

Scott sighed. “Martyn….”

Martyn could still feel a slight buzz in his head from where he was hit. How much blood did he lose back there? He didn’t know. All he knew was that he was glad to be alive. Glad that he was here, still breathing, like everyone else. Glad that he was–

“Martyn!”

Martyn jerked as Scott’s face was suddenly inches from his own. Scott’s lips were twisted into a pout and his eyebrows were drawn into a scowl. “Huh- sorry, what?”

Scott sighed, letting his head fall forward, “So you weren’t listening to me….”

“No!” Martyn said quickly, throwing his hands up. Panic leapt in his chest, making his heart beat faster. He didn’t want Scott to think he was ignoring him…! “No, I- I’m… I’m sorry…,” he hung his head. “I’m trying to listen- I’m not meaning to ignore you, I just….” Martyn looked down at the sand beneath him. Guilt welled up in his throat. He’d been so eager to see Scott while he was away, and before he’d gotten back, and now that he was actually here… Martyn was ignoring him. He was making Scott feel ignored.

Martyn shook his head, forcing a huge smile onto his face. “So, you said you saw your friends, right? Did you have fun-? Oh, what am I saying, you just said you had fun- haha…,” Martyn scrubbed the back of his head, then straightened up, rolling to his feet. “Hey, do you wanna go see if we can find your bird friend? I bet it’s missed you too!” He pointed towards a path leading up to the forest, “Bet he lives in there somewhere…!”

“Um- Martyn…,” Scott trailed off looking after him.

Martyn took a few steps backwards, away from Scott, and spread his arms, hoping he’d follow. “Or we can go down to the beach! It’s a nice day, it’ll feel great to splash in the water a little.”

“Martyn.”

“Or- oh, we can go see the decorations they’re setting up for the festival down in the center of town. You said you were excited right, so we can-!”

“Martyn!” Scott snapped. 

Martyn stopped.

Scott took the few steps to close the distance between them, laying his hand on Martyn’s arm, then sliding it down to take his hand. He tilted his head, giving Martyn big sad eyes. “Martyn, talk to me…. What’s wrong?”

It was hard for Martyn to not crack under Scott’s gaze. “It’s just…,” he trailed off, trying to put his thoughts into words. He was just engrossed in them a second ago, but now, trying to tell Scott, he couldn’t think of what to say. “I… uh….”

“You’re alright, Martyn,” Scott rubbed his thumb over Martyn’s hand in a small, circular motion. “Take your time.”

A small pause fell over him. Martyn could hear the slow ebbs of the waves before he managed to speak. “I can’t get her out of my mind,” his voice spat with venom. Pearl’s sadistic glee, her manic grin, her ever-looming presence burned in his head. Martyn’s grip unknowingly tightened around Scott until he looked the other in the eye. His grip on Scott lessened as he looked away. “What good can I be to protect you, when I can’t defend myself from one person?”

“Who said I needed protecting?” Scott raised an eyebrow, his tone still soft but with a hint of skepticism as he leaned to the side to catch Martyn’s gaze again. He let out a weak chuckle and moved his other hand to rest on Martyn’s cheek. “Besides, you can’t protect me from everything.”

Martyn leaned into the touch, not caring how warm his cheeks felt as Scott’s delicate hand pressed into his skin, lightly grazing over the scar Pearl caused. He closed his eyes as he let out a sigh and drooped his shoulders. “But I want to…,” he muttered. He looked at Scott, his face scrunched with worry. “I don’t want you getting hurt at all, Scott.”

“There’s going to be times where I get hurt, Martyn,” Scott narrowed his eyes and withdrew his hand from Martyn’s cheek. Martyn was wide-eyed, only for Scott to hold the hunter’s other hand. “When that happens, all I’d ask is for you to help me get back on my feet.”

Martyn could feel his nerves freeze up at Scott’s warm hold. His gentle stare and concern on his face nearly caused Martyn’s heart to explode. A million things swirled in his mind as the breeze wafted over. “I can’t help it,” he lowered his head, biting his lip. “You should be protected, with all the chaos going around–”

“What chaos?” Scott cracked a smile and shook his head. He shrugged, letting go of one of Martyn’s hands as he gestured around. “All there is to see is you, me, and the beach. Nothing to worry about, right?”

Nothing to worry about for now, but so many things could happen in the blink of an eye. Martyn could practically hear the sound of the sea princes’ ringing in his ears, the one from his dreams laughing as its mouth opened wide to swallow Scott as he screamed-.... 

No. Martyn needed to be prepared for anything, so nothing bad could ever happen to the people he cared for. Nothing. Never again. 

“I still want to fight for you,” his voice was barely a whisper in the wind, cracking a bit from the emotions that crawled up the back of his throat. But seeing Scott’s attentive look, with the slight tilt of his head, Martyn knew he could hear him. “Can I at least do that?” he pleaded. He needed to-. He needed to. 

“You may,” Scott nodded, giving him a small smile. Then his eyes narrowed as a smirk crept onto his lips. “So- I’d like to see how you fight.”

Martyn opened his mouth to respond- just in time for a woosh of breath to leave him as his back hit the ground. Martyn gasped, blinking for several seconds as he tried to figure out he’d gotten laid flat out on his back… with a certain ginger pinning his shoulders to the sand.

“Yikes…,” Scott teased, his eyebrows rising, complimenting the wide grin on his face.

Martyn sputtered, his face immediately flushing beat red. “I wasn’t ready! Sneak- sneak attack…!”

Scott laid one arm across his chest, propping his other elbow on top of it and laying his cheek in his hand. “Most things will take an opportunity for a sneak attack, when presented with one.” He kicked his feet in the air, as if he was lounging on a couch reading a book. 

Martyn flushed all the way to his ears. “Redo!”

Scott leaned his head down, smiling at Martyn in a way that was almost sickeningly sweet. “Are you waiting for a written invitation?” 

Martyn grabbed Scott by the shoulders and surged upwards, knocking the ginger off of him. Scott laughed as he slipped his grip, ducking under one of Martyn’s arms to wrap his arms around Martyn’s torso. 

Before Martyn’s brain could fully process that, Scott had rolled Martyn over top of him and planted him flat on his back again. 

Working on instinct more than pre-thought, Martyn wrapped his arms around Scott’s shoulders and kicked off the sand. He knocked his thigh against Scott’s hip, bumping him off balance just enough to send them rolling over again.

But Scott didn’t end up on his back underneath Martyn. 

Somehow, mid flip, he’d slithered around Martyn’s torso, ducking his arm again and getting outside of his hold. Martyn ended up with his face in the sand and a knee pressed between his shoulders, shoving him down further.

Martyn was about to push himself up with his arms, using his strength advantage to throw Scott off of him, but Martyn froze when he felt something sharp curl around his throat. 

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t even swallow. He could barely even breathe. 

Suddenly the sharp points of crescent bladed scythes were touched against his neck so delicately. Suddenly the sharp claws of a hungry beast wrapped around his throat, pricking the skin above his jugular. One wrong move and she’d slid his throat. One wrong breath and the beast would tear him to ribbons.

A figure above him bent down to whisper in his ear. 

“I win!” Scott chirped brightly. He laughed as he withdrew his fingernails from where he’d curled them around Martyn’s throat. “You really do need more practice. Though I’d be happy to oblige…,” his voice turned sing-songy as he plopped back on the sand, his arms holding him up.

Martyn slowly pushed himself upwards, staring down at the sand where his face had been in utter bafflement. Why had that felt-? Why was he-? Why was his heart beating so fast? Why… did he feel like he’d just been hunted…?

“That- that uh…,” Martyn stammered, not really sure what he wanted to say. “You’re a lot better fighter than I thought you’d be.” He turned his head to look at Scott, pushing himself up so he was sitting on his knees.

“I know,” Scott smiled widely, tipping his head back and forth, “Do I impress you, Martyn?” He smiled and hummed teasingly, his eyes narrowed in a joyful satisfaction. 

“Always,” he breathed, a lot more genuine and heartfelt than he’d meant to. Scott’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. Martyn felt his face flush and he looked down at the sand. Well, he was in this far. “I think you’re amazing.” 

“Thank you…,” Scott said with a shy little smile. A light hint of red dusted his cheeks. He looked… really nice like that.

Martyn shook his head, roughly clearing his throat. “Well um, as- as fun as this was… I was actually referring to- to my gun combat more than my hand-to-hand.”

“Uh huh,” Scott answered with a small smirk, not sounding like he believed him. “Well, maybe I could help you with that as well.” 

“You know how to use a gun?” Martyn asked, more than a little shocked. How… how much did he really know about Scott?

Scott opened his mouth, then closed it. He looked to the side, then looked back at Martyn. “Noooo…?” he admitted, grinning sheepishly. He sighed, rolling his eyes a bit, “To be honest I thought you were still flirting, not that that was a serious question. And now, well… I’m just embarrassed.”

“Oh.” Martyn tried to hide his sigh of relief. It was one thing to just not know that Scott was a capable fighter -he was a tavern keeper who dealt with rowdy drunks all the time, Martyn honestly should have expected it- but it was another thing to not know that Scott was a trained gunman. For some reason they felt different. Martyn felt a grin split his face. “Would-... would you like me to teach you…?”

“Teach me what?” Scott’s eyebrows pinched together for a brief moment, then shot up towards his hairline, “How to use a gun?”

“Yeah,” Martyn grinned, “It’ll be like the time I was taught!”

“When were you taught?” Scott tilted his head.

“I think I was… seven? My parents knew I wanted to be a hunter, so they taught me,” Martyn hummed, looking out at the beach. He could remember the eagerness in his voice when he asked his parents to teach him. He only knew of the dangers through them and the people he lived around, but he knew his heart was calling out to the sea more than anything else.  “I needed practice, like everyone else, but I’m a natural. A crack shot, they’d told me!” He laughed. Shooting a target from far away was much easier than fighting with swords or his bare hands. 

Scott blinked, processing Martyn’s words. He slowly turned his head to Martyn, eyes widening in shock as all sense of his playfulness dropped. “You were a child when you learned how to use those?”

“Yeah…? I wanted to be a hunter, Scott, so I learned early.” Martyn looked at Scott and shrugged, feeling the ginger’s gaze on his skin felt… different. Martyn learned how to use guns to be a hunter, not to– oh. Was Scott thinking Martyn would…? Martyn shook his head and raised his hands up. “But I can’t shoot a person. A sea monster is easy because they’re big and stupid, but a person…?”

Scott had a judgemental look on his face as it scrunched up. He pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them, resting his head on it as he sighed. “Ending a person’s life is hard, and I’m happy you haven’t shot anyone, but…,” he trailed off. Martyn leaned closer to Scott as he raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you think it’s a little concerning?”

“What’s concerning?”

“You learned how to shoot things, how to kill things, as a kid,” Scott looked away, gripping his arms tighter as he watched the waves flow in and out. “Every life has a purpose; from you, to me, and even the beasts in the ocean.”

Martyn narrowed his eyes. Exactly what purpose could those monsters serve? Being ocean terrors? An effective way to kill humans and destroy ships? To bring fear in the hearts of children? To kill Ren- Jimmy? Why were there monsters in the ocean? Why should there be? 

“They’re monsters, Scott.” Martyn hissed, anger rising in his voice.

“They’re animals,” Scott hissed back, his face pinching into an expression that was almost pained. “They’re just animals….” 

“They’re heartless, cruel, and always starving.” Martyn huffed, pulling out his gun to examine it under the sunlight. Horrible beasts. Disgusting monsters. Murderers. “They’re such horrible, unnatural beasts that every mechanic in the world works to develop better guns and weapons to kill them all.” 

He didn’t fully notice the way Scott shied away from the gun in his hand. “You’re lucky you don’t need to leave the kingdom to see those ugly things,” Martyn spat.

“Ugly…,” Scott grumbled, turning his head away, like he was offended by the notion. “Well, I’m sure most of them would think the same about you.”

Martyn blinked, giving Scott a double take. Ugly…? 

Scott let out a sigh as he stretched and uncurled his legs and arms to stretch out in front of him. He picked up a small handful of sand and watched it fall through his fingers. “Every life is precious, every life is running on limited time. I’m not an idiot. I know things die. But there’s no reason to cut it shorter than it needs to be. ” He smiled wistfully, tossing the rest of the sand forward. “The sea is… scary, but maybe if you had an open mind, you’d see there’s more to it than monsters.”

Martyn followed Scott’s gaze and stared. Was there anything more to them? Surely not. The fondness in Scott’s voice was hard to believe- but the man has never even seen any beast to Martyn’s knowledge. The fond tone that Scott spoke about those- those monsters with… it honestly made Martyn angry. Those monsters took away the people he cared about. The people he loved. People he cherished. Jimmy, Ren… and so many other innocent people lost their lives to the sea, Lizzie’s parents…. The ocean took all of them, and there was nothing to blame but the monsters that infested it.

“They’re monsters, nothing more than that,” he spat, emotions in his chest wrenching into a tight knot that made it hard to breathe. He swung his arm out to the side, bringing his gun up in front of his chest as he rose to his knees, almost looming over Scott. “I know what they are, Scott, and I know I’m doing all that I can to protect you and the rest of the kingdom from the beasts that would just as quickly swallow you whole as they would crush you into pieces!”

“There’s no need for you to be so hostile about it,” Scott snapped at Martyn, his eyes narrowing into a cold glare that felt like icy daggers stabbing into Martyn’s face. Scott stood up and brushed all the sand from his clothes with a sigh. “I understand.” He walked closer to the water, just enough for the waves to lap against his shoes and tightened his fist, as if preventing to lash out.

Martyn blinked. “Was I-?” he muttered to himself. 

He looked out at Scott standing in the surf. He looked… sad. The guilty feeling in his chest built up once more. 

All of a sudden, Martyn remembered just how happy Scott looked with his birds fluttering around him, with the canary nuzzling his palm. Oh-. Scott was an animal lover…. No wonder he-.

Martyn was messing everything up. First he’d ignored him, and he was pushing Scott away by getting angry. Martyn quickly stood up and ran across the beach towards Scott, “Oh, Scott, I’m sorry–”

Scott turned to look at him, a flat expression on his face.

Martyn felt his heart twist, “I- I’m sorry. I- I didn’t mean to make you feel….”

“Upset?” Scott supplied.

“Yeah…,” Martyn bowed his head. His hand twitched out, reaching for Scott’s but giving up and retreating before he could take it. Martyn turned his head away and bit his lip. “I-... I made you-....”

Scott stepped closer and held out his hand. “No need for that, silly hunter,” he smiled sweetly. Martyn took it almost immediately, surprising them both. Scott let out a chuckle and bumped his shoulder next to Martyn’s. “I’m not mad,” Scott said softly. Martyn believed him. He looked… sad instead. 

“I don’t want you to–”

“You’re just fine.” Scott assured him with a smirk. “It takes a lot more than a simple disagreement to make me actually upset. We’re okay, right?” 

Martyn bashfully nodded, resulting in a wide smile from Scott. Was he… really okay? Or was he just hiding how he felt? For Martyn’s sake? Martyn hoped it was the former. 

Scott put a hand on his chest, giving Martyn’s hand a small squeeze. “Just… try to keep an open mind, alright? The world can be… stranger than you might think.” He smiled a little bashfully, “I might have- a surprise or two… to share, eventually.”

“Like how you can kick my butt in hand to hand?”

Scott’s face split into a wide grin, his eyes lighting up with laughter. “Just like that.”

Martyn felt himself smiling, a laugh escaping him as he squeezed Scott’s hand. Yeah, they were okay.

[vermwerm]

supposed to be fanart for a fic i read even tho i dont like 2nd person fics or really any fic thats in a perspective other than 3rd but regardless i wanted to draw my gijinkas for AM and HAL because why not but now it doesnt rlly count as fanart if its MY gijinkas does it?? maybe?? but regardless regardless theres symbolism in the flowers i chose but i also wanted to draw mushies so i drew mushies but and it looks too fantasy land ish now but i dont wanna bother changing that and the trees dont look great they could be better i hate grass i HATE GRASS theres freaks in the grass i made a rant about how much i hate grass in the midst of drawing this> [IM GOING TO EAT EVERY BLADE OF GRASS ON EARTH AND THEN IM GOING TO FLY INTO SPACE GO ABOVE THE SUN THROW UP THE GRASS INTO THE SUN

AND THEN LET THE SUN DRAG ME INTO ITS CORE WHILE I SCREAM ABOUT HOW MUCH I FUCKING HATE GRASS] >this art piece did NOT make me lose my marbles i swear i swear on something insignificant that i dont care about bcuz I DID LOSE MY SHIT !!! I LOST MY GODDAMN MIND !!!! LOST MY FUCKING MARMBLES OVER THIS AND I DONT EVEN LIKE THE END RESULT THAT MUCH !!!!! WHAT A FUCKING JOKE IS THAT ???? i know my AM gijinka looks like shit but i feel like he wouldnt care for how he looks he would only be minimally clean because i hav oddly specific headcanons about the hygeine of characters [not in a weird way] and AM is a FREAK abt how clean he and he only is so hes clean n whatever but other than that he doesnt care and he also tries to skin himself alive a lot bcuz he doesnt like being human GRHGHRGH rip and tear at his skin find the bugs HAL looks normal he just has way too long of grey hairs and they look more like [fancy extensions] than they do actual grey hairs and AMs entire hair is grey except for the roots cuz hes a freak i tried making HALs outfit as losercore as i could because his goofy ass is a LOSER

[sketchquill]

YOOOOOOOOO! FIRST YOU GOTTA BE ONE IF THE MOST TALENTED ARTIST I HAVE EVER SEEN!! SECOND YOUR GHOST OF CHRISTMAS FUTURE IS GIVING ME BRAIN ROT! And it got me thinking!

This being inspired by art that I just literally saw a minute ago by alice angel12x! With their idea of ghost of Christmas present yn!

The scene

Frank could only look at the ghost with fear as he watched them grow older by the minute. The once bright and cheerful spirit that stood tall among the crowd now appeared centuries older, their wooden skin was chipping and rotting away like an ancient oak that had been left to grow on dying soil their labored breaths showed how tired they had became but their hood hid their face from the puppet leaving his blind to their appearance but he was certain that it had changed as well. His heart ached for the spirits well being, it was thanks to them that he was able to see the warmth of the town surrounding him for so many years, a warmth that soaked deep into his bones that he never wished to forget.

He knelt down by the spirits slumped formed worry and fear filling his eyes " spirit? Please say something! Is there anything I can do?" He asked, he begged, for as much as he knew the truth, he wanted to remain naive for a little longer.

" I'm afraid cough! There isn't much you can do for a spirit dear frank, my being is far beyond your control. Its my own fault really, I saw hiw happy you were seeing everyone that I had forgotten my own limits and now I fear my time has come"

You spoke as if it was the most obvious thing in the world as tears slowly stared to fill franks eyes. "N-no please please this cant be! There must be something I can do!" For the first time in years frank is willing to put someone else's well being above his, the idea made you smiled weakly underneath your hood.

"Theres a heart underneath that all that doom and gloom after all huh? Thank you dear frank but im afraid im already gone" you glance up at the swirling snow that surround the both of you. While frank paid no mind to it, you watched as the wind grew more aggressive causing the most beautiful sight before you mixing with the cruel glow of a blue haunting light.

" My darling, you're already here? Im afraid im worst for wear" you spoke to the air it seemed as you forced yourself to stand up. Frank tried to get a hold on your arm to held you steady yourself only for your arm to shattered into dying splinters that blew away with the wind.

Frank finally noticed the blue glow when it suddenly became like a large bonefire at the destruction of your arm but you could inky laugh as you walked on shaking legs, knocking your hollow knees together with each step.

"No there's no need for that! You cant blame a boy for not knowing, there is so much for him to learn and it is best that you take me place dont you?"

You spoke with confidence as you pulled down your hood causeing frank to lose his breath. Your once beautiful hair made of leaves had disappeared and wilted into brown dying vines that left you into a balding state, cracking lines spread across your face their source was from the now empty socket that once held one of your bright warmth filled eyes.

You look up at the hooded figure without any source of fear or worry in your entire body, something that frank was envy about as he felt fear shake his entire soul at the towering figure.

Your remaining arm reached up to the figures face, reaching into the inky blackness of the hood with some effort revealed the soft gaze of a yellow felt face that looked down at the spirit of christmas present with warmth and sadness within his eyes.

" what-what is this?" Frank asked in a shaking voice but you only could chuckle.

"No one can help who they love frank, be they a puppet or a spirit such as us. There will always be something that will block then from one another" it was almost like you were speaking with the wind, your voice rising and falling with each sound.

You slowly turned your body more fragile than a porcelain doll would as your body slowly splintered and cracked more but a smile filled with warmth still remained on your face, as if he wasnt the cause for your breaking state.

"My last kindness and his warning frank frankly, this could be your last Christmas."

You shattered, bits of wood and cloth blew through the raging wind turning into small sparks of light that were swallowed by the darkness of the winter night. Frank could only stare in awe at the sight of your dissapearing form unaware of the tears that slowly left the hooded figures eyes.

I GOT REALLY INTO THIS AND I DONT CARE MY BRAIN JUICE WAS FLOWING! I HOPE YOU LIKE IT AND I HOPE YOU DONT MIND THE SMALL ROMANCE I GAVE TO GHOST WALLY AND YN! THANK YOU AND GOOD NIGHT!

IM GOING FERAL OVER THIS HOLY JESUS THIS IS AWESOME I LOVED EVERY SECOND OF READING THIS LIKE- AAAAA AND THE LIL’ MOMENT BETWEN GHOST OF CHRISTMAS PRESENT! Y/N AND GHOST OF YET TO COME! WALLY BEFORE Y/N SHATTERS IS SO UNDENIABLY SWEET BUT OH MY GOD IT PULLED AT MY HEART STRINGS 😭💕💖

@alice-angel12x ALICE GET OVER HERE YOU GOTTA GET OVER HERE AND READ THIS BRO 👏

[talkintrashcann]

Sleeping beauty - Xavier Thorpe

Summery: You found your best friend sleeping in his shed, his body laying on something he was drawing before falling asleep. Little did you know, it was a drawing of you.

Warnings: fluff, kissing, best friends to lovers, if there's any others please let me know

Word count: 1.3k

A/N: im sorry if this is really bad, i didn't check the story after finishing it up so there's probably gonna be some mistakes in here. this is my first time ever posting on tumblr, this is all very new to me and idk how any of this works or if im doing it correctly so please let me know what you think. im always open for suggestions or feedback!

——————

Walking outside in the forest after dark wasn't your favorite activity to do but you got a little worried about your best friend, Xavier. You texted him a while ago asking if everything was alright and he hasn't replied back yet. You're aware that he likes to take his distance sometimes and wants to be alone, which you completely understand and respect. But you also knew that whenever something is wrong, he keeps it to himself even when he shouldn't. He knows that you have your own things to sort out sometimes and he doesn't want you to carry around his luggage too, he doesn't want to feel like a burden.

He has the perfect spot to go to whenever he wants to be alone, a place where he can let go and express himself. Out in the woods next to the school there's a shed somewhere, he cleaned it out with permission from Ms. Weems to turn it into his private art studio. So naturally that's the first place that came to mind when you found out he wasn't in his room.

After a 15 minute walk in the woods you finally spot the old shed, covered by loads of plants that grew onto it over the years. It was certain he was inside as the lights of his shed were turned on, and only he can enter the shed considering he's the only one with a key.

You open the door quietly, not wanting to scare him this late at night. Your eyes scan the room looking for your friend, but you frown as you dont see him immediately. You take a step further inside, being able to see the room more.

That's when you spotted him, sitting on his wooden stool while his upper body was leaning on his workbench. He was sleeping peacefully, not even waking up because of the door opening. And you can imagine it making quite some noise considering how long that shed has been standing there in the forest. His hair was partly tied up in a loose bun, while also being untied at the back. A few strands of hair had fallen over his eyes, mouth slightly open. You could hear him breathe very quietly, holding your own breath to prevent him from waking up because of any noise. Even though he wouldn't wake up so easily, but you still felt the need to not make a sound.

If you could take a picture of this very moment, you'd carry it with you anywhere you go. Your heart melts at the sight of him, you stand there almost dying from cuteness overload. There was no denying that you see him as more than just a friend, but you would never actually admit that to anyone. Some of your other friends knew about your little crush on him, but it looks like Xavier himself can't take a hint at all. You've tried dropping him subtle hints, some a little less subtle than others, but it has no use. He must be blind to not notice you flirting with him all the time, or at least try to. That or he knows you like him, but decides not to say anything about it, being too afraid to lose you as a friend because of it.

As you get lost in your own thoughts again, your eyes divert from his pretty face to what seems to be what he was drawing before he had drifted off into deep sleep, staring at what you see in shock.

Underneath his body, drawn on the paper, was you. He made a drawing of you petting a kitten near the lake. It had so much details in it, you would think that he made this on the spot while you were posing for it. Thinking back to when this happened, you remember it being from before you two were even friends. It was one of your first days at Nevermore and you hadn't made any friends yet, not any human friends at least. You had gone for a walk near the lake to clear your mind after class, meeting a cute little orange kitten while you were there. You don't remember anyone else being around, let alone it being Xavier.

It makes you wonder though, was he following you? If so, what was the reason? Even if that was a bit of a stalker move, you couldn't help but feel warm inside because of it. Maybe there was a chance he did like you more than a friend. You leaned in a little closer to him, pressing your lips lightly to his cheek. You don't know what came over you in that moment, but you really felt the need to do that. This might be the only time you get to do this, so why not.

Unfortunately that light touch was enough to wake sleeping beauty, Xavier's eyes fluttered open slowly and his arms pushed his body up from the table. He makes eye contact with you and frowns at the sight of you standing there so close to him in the middle of the night.

"What are you doing here?", he asked softly but his voice came out a little raspy.

You couldn't make a sound, your eyes nervously looking at Xavier, then at the drawing, and then back at Xavier. He followed the direction of your eyes, also looking at the drawing now. He had completely forgotten he was working on that before he fell asleep, his body filling with embarrassment now as he realizes what situation he's gotten himself into.

"Uh, I can explain..."

He got nervous and looked down at the floor, not wanting to look you in the eye right now. He knew he couldn't talk himself out of this, you needed an explanation and he couldn't think of a single excuse. His hands were fiddling with the hem of his shirt and his face was turning a dark shade of pink, his body language was telling you exactly what you needed to know.

Taking a deep breath before opening his mouth again to say something while still not looking at you, he was prepared to finally tell you how he feels about you. Before he could say a word you lifted his chin up and softly kissed his lips, catching him completely off guard. It didn't take very long for him to kiss you back though, he had been waiting for this moment for so long. It didn't happen the way he thought it would, but he was definitely not complaining about it.

His hands found their way to your waist and pulled you closer to him, you falling onto his lap as a result. After what felt like ages you slowly pulled away from him, not really wanting to but you needed to catch your breath.

For a moment it stays silent in the shed, neither of you making any noise. All that's happening is you two staring at each other, enjoying the moment while thinking about what just happened. Xavier is the first one to break the silence.

"Does this mean you like me? More than just a friend?", he asks hesitantly.

"Took you long enough to realize, I've been trying to tell you for so long but you never seem to notice.", you let out a soft laugh while wrapping your hands around his neck.

"Maybe you should do something about your flirting skills then, they're gonna need some improvement if your goal was to show me you liked me.", he couldn't stop himself from teasing you.

"Oh please, there's nothing wrong with my flirting skills. If you would just open your eyes for once you'd see-"

Before you had the chance to finish that sentence he smashed his lips on yours to shut you up. This time the kiss was much more passionate and lasted even longer than the previous one. You never could've imagined this was how your night was going to end.

[dragonroilz]

Hey there! I've come across your art ever since I got into Risk of Rain 2 (better late than never, I've been sleeping on this game for years, jesus), and I'm enamoured with it, to say the least. Is there any advice you could perhaps give for an aspiring artist?

you're getting an essay whether you like it or not.

tl;dr of it if you dont want to read

- learn how to take critique

- dont skip fundamentals

- tracing is okay*

- be mindful when drawing

- you wont see good results for a long time

ok firstly, glad you like my art! i try my best on pretty much everything i make so the compliment is greatly appreciated!!

secondly, you have NO clue how much i love yapping about how to draw. im not an expert on how-to-draw-ology but i like to think i know enough to help other people not swing in the dark when it comes to getting better.

learning how to take criticism is THE most important part. not getting butthurt or at least listening to peoples critiques when they mean well is critical to improvement because its specialized advice for you. you have no clue how many young and/or new artists have gotten mad at me for giving critique when they specifically asked me for it. if youre looking to improve you gotta bite that bullet. not all criticism is valid(dont listen to people who are just tryna make you upset), but good and valid criticism can come from anyone. dont unvalidate someone's critique just because theyre not an artist or "not as good" as you. try and get as much feedback as you can and move onto the next piece instead of fixing something to perfection. you will get obsessed in a very destructive way.

learning fundamentals is another step to getting better. that means actually learning perspective, hands, anatomy, and all of the other stuff people hate drawing. its like lifting weights. most people dont like it but if you want to get stronger you need to put in the time to do the painful stuff.

chris christodoulou(ror's composer) actually made a similar comment about the topic of improvement in his field that was along the lines of "if you want to write music, stop playing video games and read a book". he got a lot of shit for saying that but honestly its true.

you need to treat art as a discipline if you want to get better at it. draw as much as you can for as long as you can before it becomes a health hazard. when im not resting i tend to draw at least three hours a day, not counting the 3 to 6 hours additional hours a day i draw during college. obviously a beginner doesn't need to draw that much but drawing daily is a good start.

if you want resources on where to look for fundamentals, Sinixdesign and Ethan Becker were who I turned to for advice that is relevant to the industry. There's definitely others out there but I tend to do more self studying so i don't know the more recent stuff.

something that they'll bring up is that tracing isn't bad AS LONG AS YOU DONT POST IT AND CLAIM IT AS YOUR OWN. it's a good way to see how other people deal with stylization, but its absolutely not okay to post that stuff online. treat it like how traditional painters do master studies. its for your own education, not clout. and you shouldn't be drawing for clout anyway.

last but not least, draw what you love and you'll always love drawing. dont be afraid to hyperfixate and lose interest in things. it will help you continue your art journey. a lot of people in my art school have little to no motivation to draw outside of college because they have no interest in drawing outside of assigned work, which is not a great relationship to have with art if you want to pursue it in the long run. draw what you want to draw when the motivation hits you. if that motivation is risk of rain? draw it. if it's leg muscles then fuck yeah draw that too.

you can stick fundamental practice into your casual art by being mindful of what you are drawing. that can be done by asking questions about what's going on to further the progress of your art. its kind of hard to explain in text, but its basically just keeping in mind how your lines influence the piece.

in the beginning youre going to have ideas and none of them are going to translate to paper. its going to take years before anything will ever compare to whats in your brain and thats just the sucky part. ive been drawing seriously for about 5 or 6 years and theres still a ton of shit i do NOT wanna touch but i have to if i want to improve.

we're all sisyphus pushing that goddamn stupidass boulder and the only thing we can do is acknowledge how far we've come while still knowing that there's more work to be done. but thats kind of the shit that i live for.

[whumpsday]

my unhinged rant about the whumptober discourse, below the readmore for the benefit of ppl who dont wanna see that crap. im just gonna go insane if i don't say this somewhere bc i feel like i'm losing my mind

this drama is genuinely so mind-blowingly stupid it's unreal, and it's been bothering me so much that i just HAVE to talk about it or i'm gonna go insane, if for no other reason than to get it out of my system. i honestly never expected the whump community to go on the kind of bad-faith tirade that's taking place.

disclaimer right here that i do not support AI scraping creative works without permission (like chatgpt and a whole host of AI art programs do) or these AI-generated works being passed off as legitimate creative works. obviously that stuff is bad, and literally everyone on all sides of this agrees it's bad. i used chatgpt exactly once one week after it came out, before i knew how shit it was, and haven't touched AI stuff since. because it steals from creators and it sucks.

now:

saying "whumptober supports/allows AI" when their official policy says plain as day:

"we are not changing our stance from last year’s decision"

"we will not amplify or include AI works in our reblogs of the event."

"we discourage the use of AI within Whumptober, it feels like cheating, and we feel like it isn’t in the spirit of the event."

is bonkers! whumptober is a prompt list, there is nothing TO the event other than being included in the reblogs. they literally cannot stop people from doing whatever they want with the prompts.

someone could go out and enact every single prompt in real life on a creativity-fueled serial killing spree and the whumptober mods couldn't do shit about it. it's not like it's a contest you submit to. it's a prompt list! someone could take every single prompt from the AI-less whumptober prompt list, feed it into chatgpt right now, and post them as entries. and the mods of THAT wouldn't be able to stop them either. because it's a prompt list.

the AI-less event have also made just... blatantly false claims, like that grammarly isn't AI. grammarly IS AI and they openly advertise this. hell, this is grammarly's front page right now:

and this is a statement from grammarly about how its products work:

its spellchecker / grammarchecker is AI-based! claiming it's not AI is just... lying. saying "this is an AI-less event" and then just saying any AI that you want to include doesn't count as AI is ludicrous.

and you know what? whumptober actually pointed this out. they said they don't want to ban AI-based assistive tools (like grammarly) for accessibility reasons. this post has several great points:

"AI is used for the predictive text and spellchecker that's running while I type this reply."

"Accessibility tools rely on AI." this is true and here's an article about it, though the article is a little too pro-AI in general for my tastes, there's nuances to this stuff. it's used for captioning, translation, image identification, and more. not usually the same kind of AI that's used for stuff like chatgpt. THERE ARE DIFFERENT KINDS!

"But we can't stop that, nor can we undo damage already done, and banning AI use (especially since we can't enforce it) is an empty stand on a hill that's already burning, at least in our view of things."

and people were UP IN ARMS over this post! their notes were full of hate, even though it's all true! just straight lying and saying that predictive text isn't AI (it is), that AI isn't used for accessibility tools (it is), that whumptober can somehow enforce an anti-AI policy (they can't because it's a prompt list).

in effect, both whumptobers have the EXACT SAME AI POLICY. neither allows AI-generated works, but both allow AI-based assistive tools like grammarly. everyone involved here is ON THE SAME SIDE, they all have the exact same opinion on how AI should be applied to events like this, and somehow they're arguing???

not to mention that no other whump event has ever had an AI policy. febuwhump, WIJ, bad things happen bingo, hell even nanowrimo doesn't have one.

and you wanna know the most ridiculous part of this entire thing? which is also the reason why none of the above events have an AI policy.

no one is doing this. no one is out there feeding whumptober prompts to chatgpt and posting them as fills for whumptober cred. it's literally a hypothetical, made-up issue. all of this infighting over a problem that DOESN'T EXIST.

to the point that people are brigading the whumptober server with shit like this:

saying "everyone who participates in whumptober is a traitor, you should go participate in this other event with the exact same AI policy but more moral grandstanding about it" is silly. every single bit of this drama is silly.

in the end, please just be nice to people. we're ALL against the kind of AI that steals from creators. the whumptober mods are against AI, the AILWT mods are against AI, whumptober participants are against AI, AILWT participants are against AI. there is no mythical person out here trying to pass chatgpt work off as whumpfic. let's all just be civil with each other over this, yeah?

[intertexts]

EPISODE 21 TRIVIA:

- bizly, introing the episode: "welcome to just rolled with it where we answer our generations greatest question: will dakota cole break the law?"

- grizzly: "no, you know what? i think the final villain of prime defenders is william fucking wisp! i think youre playing out a villain backstory and youre going to snap and go batshit crazy" < hehehehehehehehe

- charlie: "i dont think its a secret that william is FOR SURE the most likely to become a villain out of the three of us. i dont see it as a permanent final thing but i definitely think it could happen at some point. i think he would have like a red x teen titans arc" WAHOO

- charlie CURRENTLY has no plans to do this he and bizly have never even discussed it. however he thinks its a possibility. "im playing this kid who is VERY smart and has a lot of ideas, but keeps getting shut down by basically everyone and i think hes starting to get a little desperate"

- they start talking about how when charlie plays william he gets "the Chip Brain" which is a reference to how in riptide bizly makes the most WILD NONSENSE decisions and then afterwards goes "i dont know why i did that i was just so in character and i felt like thats what he would do in the moment. out of character i agree that was fucking stupid why did i do that" << so. charlie gets this playing william too LMAO

- HEY UH. FUCKED UP SENTENCE INCOMING !!! "william has literally seen what happens after you die. thats knowledge that almost NOBODY else in this world has. and i think it makes him values life... less. hes seen that theres more after, hes seen that people kind of stick around, i think life to him is a lot more fragile and messy and less black-and-white, killing or not killing. it doesnt hold the same weight. becoming sort of apathetic and desensitized to the concept of death" << THIS IS AWESOMEEEEE FOR ME

- grizzly says hes glad william and vyncent didnt try to break the doctor out of prison like they thought they would because he genuinely wouldnt know how to play that as dakota

- charlie: "william has gotten so protective of dakota that if in his mind there was ANY chance that his friend would die all because of this guy being in jail over false charges, if that was the direction the conversation was going, william actually right then and there wouldve gotten him out. he couldnt have accepted that a situation like that would lead to losing his friend"

- grizzly: "iiiiii would like to sayyyy. bizly. will i still kick absolute ass if i dont have strength and speed, or will I just be some kind of loser" << bizly says maybe but he wpuld have to play dakota as more of a Regular Guy and just have him train at martial arts really hard

- DISCUSSING A TRAINING ARC AGAIN !!!!! which they think would be fun but they dont want to do another timeskip. (<<me who has future knowledge and knows how they figure this out: :3c)

- one of the biggest reasons keeping grizzly from agreeing to break the doctor out now is because hes really afraid he'll be super bitter against the family and augment himself to have some sort of powers and become a supervillain. and he thinks something like that happening would absolutely CRUSH dakota to a point where he wouldnt know how he would come back from that

- bizly had a real time epiphany, everyone was quiet for a minute and he just went "oh my god. i know exactly how this is gonna work. pick anything you want, i got this. i have a way to make everything work"

- grizzly has NO idea which option hes gonna choose, but he thinks hes leaning toward dakota getting a normal heart and just training really hard at martial arts. charlie and condi are saying that theyre really interested to see dakota before he goes and trains because theyve never seen him *weak* before

- grizzly: "if you ever call dakota stupid in character again ill cry"

charlie: "i mean i only did that because he was putting himself in danger! i think william heard him say shit like 'its cool. its okay ive got two years' and i think he just got genuinely really upset at that. william would rather keep his friend alive than spare his feelings"

- "if william ever did become a supervillain he would *never* hurt dakota" (<< WAUGH)

- charlie was gonna ask the doctor about williams whole decaying thing but decided not to because it didnt feel right in the moment. bizly goes "i mean you already know who you need to talk to about that" to which charlie goes NOOOOOOOOOO bc he is implying. mal

- charlie: "william doesnt wanna talk to mal he pisses him off"

grizzly: "why, because its like looking in a mirror?"

condi and bizly at the same time: "ooooooohhhhhhh"

- grizzly: "god this decision is so fucking hard i feel like i need an adult- OH MY GOD can we go see tide. can i not make my decision and instead we just go see tide"

- condi: "vyncent doesnt really know how to feel about this choice. he wants dakota to be powerful because he knows those powers are really important to him but he also doesnt want his friend to fucking die!"

- GRIZZLY IS TALKING ABOUT THE DEMON HE ATE AGAIN AND BIZLY GOT SO FRUSTRATED THAT HE ACCIDENTALLY REVEALED WILLIAM STUFF:::: "i dont think the demon works how you think it works, its not PHYSICALLY in your stomach it doesnt have a physical form you CANNOT digest it !!!! in this whole campaign, no spirit has been able to wander out and influence the physical world, thats why william is so special as a planeswalker! he is a spirit that has a physical form, he can affect the real world and also be in the spirit world without a guide!"

- theyre discussing the morality of the blake family and grizzly genuinely doesnt know if dakota could process something like this where its sooooo deeply in the grey area, dakota is very black and white he doesnt think he can even understand that right now

SUCH GOOOOD FUCKING TRIVIA THIS EP DUDE!!!!!!! thank u for the foooood. fuck yes a little bowl of seeds for me.

WIWI VILLAIN ARC. PLEASE. PLEASE. YEAH. honestly at this point i know it's going to happen, i just don't know when n how. not even from ur ominous giggling it just feels SO clear to me that he is a guy who can be so desperate and do anything for the people he loves and i... give him One situation where he doesn't have his very fragile support system of two other extremely fucked up teens and their absent dad who he just doesn't wanna disappoint!!! give him one fucking situation where he's separated from them and scared and there's some threat and you fucking KNOW he's going to be Up To Some Shit. i'd bet real money on both the villain or at least morally grey conflict arc AND that general setup being the catalyst.

god. literally all of this stuff is SOOO good i'm fucking LOCKED ON to the other wiwi planeswalker shit-- that's basically what i was thinking? when the planeswalker thing had come up before? but. tasty... before i started 22 my assumption here was then that the decay situation was like. a subconscious... choiiiice? i guess? like. you know. he perceived himself as dead and his body began to reflect that & then he looked more dead so he got more dead etc etc vicious cycle. but. now i'm not sure??????? ALSO. that thing ab his thoughts on death are so fucking tasty. so so good holy shit. makes sense!! makes sense!! there's less gravity to death when it's just a place you can go, there's less gravity to killing when it's not permanent-ending, just shifting someone from one place to another. like, y'know, when u were a kid, and there was someplace u never went very often & so u thought it was Special and Important & then u grew up and figured out it wasn't actually Special and Important and an Occasion to go there, your mom just hated the parking situation or it was a bit too far for a car ride w/ little kids. that's what death is like to william wisp!! head in hands. not even gonna touch on mal rn!!!

anyway. ghostkicksisms................

[loveariddle]

hii it’s very funny that most recent asks are from anons, everyone is so shy around you,, :3 👀

but also AAA HII omg i’m so sorry for spamming and for looking at like uo to 2018 stuff,, but OMG OMGOMGOMGOMGOMGOGNDJCBDBD YPUR ART IS SO SO SO PRETTY HOW AM I ONLY FINDING YOU KNOW ITS ALL GORGEOUS YOURE SO TALANTED OH MY GOODNESS 💓💗💕💖💞💗💓💕💖 IM LITERALLY EATING ALL OF IT IM EATING YOUR ART IM CONSUMING IT AND I CAN FEEL ALL OF MY TASTEBUDS ACTIVATING AT ONCE BECAUSE YOUR ART YOUR CREATIONS ARE MASTERPIECES

😭 😭 it’s so beautiful genuinely, i love the softness, i love the genuine emotions, i love all of your scenes and i’m so so so happy for you for getting commissions i hope that supports you and i hope you accept all the love you receive cause you deserve it so much!!

from what i’ve seen you’re genuinely the sweetest person when interacting with everyone and i just want you to know how much you’ve probably meant for someone, i’m 100% sure (because that will be ME ONG) people go back to your blog and look at your art and it actually helps them feel better and keep going because it brings them so much happiness and means so much to them. that’s what you are able to do with your creations. i love your art and already love you :33

cant wait to see for more (including me going back down and down and down and down unless you mind then i’ll stop,,,,,)

sorry for the spam ask, please don’t forget to hydrate, eat something, open the window, go on a walk, message a loved one and have a awesome day! you’re so much worth than your creations alone, you’re a wonderful skilled human being and i hope you enjoy the rest of your year too! i’ll just be here,, lurking,,,, reblogging,,, eating your art,, 👁 👁

HII sorry i just had this in my inbox for a while bc i dont think i can give a proper response to match this energy shjs BUT THANK YOU... lately i just feel drained year by year and i mostly only have energy left to do paid work. i want to feel the motivation and enthusiasm back and wonder at times when i feel this way does it reflect on my art like.. did i lose the charm my audience followed me for.. i dont know but whenever i post new stuff i still get sweet responses so :') it keeps me going!! i /want/ people to feel happy when they look at my stuff! thank you for taking the time to write this out, i hope you'll have a wonderful day as well🥰🥰!

[thegongoozlerreacts]

Dead Plate (Part 1)

hello!! its been a while since ive posted but here i am!!! so this game is Dead Plate created by STUDIO INVESTIGRAVE

i had played one of their games before, Elevator Hitch, and i really really enjoyed it! so im very excited for this new game that theyve released

though, this game is probably really different from Elevator Hitch, because that game was a visual novel type of game while this one has restaurant tycoon gameplay

still, im very excited

i hope i can get all the endings today (but probably not) as always, spoilers under the cut!

i know its literally just the title screen BUT it looks very classy

also the music? its a bop like yo BellKalengar is the composer and sound designer and like yo!! amazing job its literally just the title screen and im amazed already LMFAO

alright then lets begin

lolol i like the way they named the buttons for doing the tutorial, skipping the tutorial or just leaving the game on auto progress time to show up at 5 am then

the art is really cute these characters are really cute too esp the protag

i know its just the tutorial but i am very nervous LOL doing service jobs make me nervous (even tho this is only a fictional one)

bro protag why did u skim the interview thing 😭 is that why u've had 28 jobs in 7 years 💀

ooh interesting the cooks have an order in which they cook meals i need to remember that

wow so theres a lot to do huh theres seating the customers, taking their orders, bringing those orders to the kitchen, serving the food, going to the cash register to take their payments, cleaning up the tables AND throwing out the trash its a lot more than i was expecting,,,, lol good luck to me i guess

so like fun fact im actually not that good at playing games LOL esp this kind of game where theres like people and they have like a happy meter kind of thing going on i wonder if any of the endings will be tied to how well we do during the work day ?? probably

also can i just say that the music is really good i like the kinda jazzy (is that the right word??) vibes going on

it makes me less nervous about serving customers since its very chill LOL

WHY IS THIS CUSTOMER HITTING ME WITH A HARD QUESTION

I HAVE NO IDEA IF WE HAVE TO-GO BOXES OR WHATEVR WHAT HUH ?????

there is a right answer and i have no idea what it is im gonna lose my mind please. ok well lets pick an answer

im gonna go 'no' since the restaurant has a strict menu that changes daily right? so maybe they wouldnt do to-go boxes or ordering ahead and stuff (RIGHT???)

oh phew ok i picked the right one

LOL the banter between the protag and the tutorial guy (i dont know his name)

??? what the hell this customer just left right as i got the food bro 😭😭 have some patience damn this aint a fast food place

now i have to throw away this perfectly good meal (sorry cooks)

oh no now the real game is starting uhh aight alright then lets go

ok so that was like only three customers, i did pretty well but the day's not over yet shdajhsdsakhj i feel like a disaster n it was only three customers LMAO

oh it was only 3 customers for day 1 nice (i got jumpscared by the sound effect for the day ending LFMAO)

ooh green onion rolls,,, it looks good damn now i want to eat LOL

BITCH YOU LIVE LIKE THIS?????? damn,,,,

the music for this area is pretty chill tho

THE BATHROOM IS FLOODING??? AGAIN ?!??! BRO ??? THATS DISGUSTING

the window has a horrible view its just another building

oho? she? who???

bro dont leave the dishes for later thats sooo gross

??? HOW DID YOU BURN CEREAL???? WHAT DID YOU EVEN DO ??

i am appalled at the protag's lifestyle i cant even

so he has not finished writing lyrics and love letters for this girl he mentioned earlier the game is not revealing her name and im wondering why hmm its very sus

sorry im laughing so hard??? its mostly empty except for some cans and the fucking green onion rolls im cackling?? they look so out of place in this fridge LMFAO

bro how are you so bad at cooking that you burnt food in the microwave??? what are you doing???

wait. is his bed the couch???? bro i feel so bad for this guy

he biked through the rain,,,,, and he thought doing it fast would dry him,,, in the rain,,,,, im starting to understand why he somehow managed to burn cereal

he doesnt own an umbrella

aww this is cute thanks boss

he LIVES here??? wow damn his apartment is upstairs thats very cool

LOL protag keep ur mouth shut

day 2 here we go

SHIT HELP I TOOK TOO LONG ONE OF THE CUSTOMERS LEFT NOOO im restarting jkdsljlds its a good thing i saved

ahh i did way better this time but the day ended right as i was about to take out the trash LOL

oooh those look tasty too

oops ok so like i started day 3 right

well i was like 'i'll take out the trash before serving any customers' so that i can just easily clean up the tables right

uhh but then suddenly this happened ??? so like protag dropped the bag and cut their finger and the boss is having an odd reaction to the sight of blood methinks

HTHE BOSS JUST SLAPPED HIM ??? WTF

bro he just slapped him then was like 'oh dw someone else will clean it up' hello???? you just slapped ???? me ???

ok then moving on to the rest of the day i guess??

kinda weird looking but it still looks appetizing (the magic of art LOL)

oh shit theres a magazine ?? oops im gonna go back and read through previous ones oh nevermind its just the same one lmao

ohhh so this is where i buy items ok aight

and this catalogue is how our protag knew about the job for a waiter it also has an interview with our boss (Chef Vincent Charbonneau, i finally know his name) about the low number of employees i was wondering why we were the only waiter in the restaurant and i guess thats why

ok i bought the rollerskates cuz i need to be faster for the customers

oh and u can interact w the telephone to call 'her' but she doesnt pick up oof

sorry what is happening right now

what is that weird squelching sound?!?!?

BRO?? WTF WAS THAT ??? so like his body felt itchy, pressed Z to scratch and then suddenly lines were all over his body and then knives came out and i am so very confused

i think that was just a dream but what a weird nightmare

i guess onto day 4 then ?? at least i have my sick new rollerskates now

ooh that looks tasty

man i think im too slow cuz the timer always runs out while one more customer is still around lmfao, oh well

oh shit another nightmare

ohh so i can only equip one item at a time hmmm well since i bought the watch anyways i guess i'll use it

PFFT A CUSTOMER LEFT SORRY LADY,, she was waiting to be seated but i was preoccupied with serving food oopsies

restarting the day then

the nightmare hmm is the protag's name Rody since thats what it says on the label

DAMNIT I TOOK TOO LONG AGAIN

ok im just gonna use the rollerskates this time

AGGHH I KEEP TAKING TOO LONG ON THIS ONE CUSTOMER

restarting again,,,,

should i just let it go? probably but im not going to

IM GONNA LOSE MY MIND IVE RESTARTED SO MANY TIMES

ok well youve not seen it but i have restarted day 5 soo many times and i am hungry so,,, here's where i'll leave it for today

even though i am struggling and getting frustrated, im really enjoying the game so far! i wish i wasnt so terrible at playing it so i could see more of the story LOL

like what is up with the boss? who is this girl that the protag likes so much? what is up with his weird nightmares??? and will i ever be able to finish day 5 ?????

tune in next time LOL byebyeee

[xxxg0ryygurlll13xxx]

what am i if not an artist?

i havent been able to create anything at all recently. nothing good anyways. its weird i used to create big gorgeous pieces of art almost daily but now i can barely bring myself to doodle anything, im not sure what happened. i think it may just be me getting older, im more critical of myself and i dont have the time or energy to create anything anymore. its sad really. im not really good at school, im not extremely attractive, im bad at sports and i dont really have any other talents or anything all i was ever really good at all at was art. im an artist. its a fundamental part of who i am and how i view the world. i see the world through shapes, lines, colors, textures, contrasts i see the world as a huge piece of art. now i cant create anything in it. when i had my whole NAHS induction thingy a part of the pledge stood out to me, "i promise to leave this world more beautiful than when i came into it" (thats not word for word but it was something like that). id like to live by that. that i will put beautiful things in this world in the hope that maybe it will help someone somewhere. i fear im losing my art. losing myself really. ive always wanted my art in a museum. any museum, small, big, local, famous doesnt matter just somewhere where it might help someone. i love museums i wanna work in one one day. i fear though that this art rut will last and i wont be able to create anything good again. i used to make portraits, comics, landscapes, collages, paintings, drawings you name it i made it and id do at least one daily but now my sketchbooks sit collecting dust. if im not an artist anymore than what am i? art has been so ingrained in who i am. ive always been an artist since i was little. now? theres a hole where my creativity should be. it makes me sad and confused. why cant i make anything anymore? i want to but i just cant. its a weird feeling, almost like theres something wrong with me. something is off. i find myself comparing myself to other artists too and i feel behind. like my art looks so much less clean and good than my classmates. i want to be an artist, my hands want to create, my mind is overflowing with ideas but there is something in me thats making me unable to put all of this to use. i am an artist. i love art. i love creating. i just cant for some reason. i know art doesnt have to be "good" but mine does.