#might make some art of some personal projects I turn around in my head

[whimsybats]

Task Force 141 x Batmom!Reader (Pt. 1?)

crossover AU

platonic Task Force 141 x batmom!reader x batfam

Bruce Wayne x Reader

(this is my first time writing headcanons on here or anywhere so I'm so sorry if it sucks LOL I might be adding more parts to this later/making it a series of headcanons? I need to get used to writing characters and their personalities, any tips would be appreciated!)

Batmom!Reader who was brought into the events of MW1 under Laswell's command.

I'd imagine she'd have become a Lieutenant. Prior to the events of MW1 she might've worked with Ghost a few times.

She assisted Gaz and Price in Piccadilly. With her medical skills and tactics she made an impression on both of them securing her place in 141 as the resident medic.

Her alias is up to you! (ex; Soap, Ghost, Gaz etc.)

I'd imagine she met Bruce pre-robin era after Piccadilly and assisted with an evacuation while he was Batman, despite his multiple attempts to get her out as well.

He then likely looked her up on the computer in the Batcave, intrigued. Bruce noticed her military background, seeing her involvement with Piccadilly among other events in her career, it made sense.

"Lieutenant (L/N)..." Bruce eyed the computer in interest.

"Another one of your... projects Master Bruce?"

"Something like that I guess."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Eventually you met as Bruce and (Y/n) and had gotten married along the way with having adopted your kids.

When you found out Bruce was Batman, you weren't too shocked, seeing as one of your teammates literally code name is Ghost and also dresses... in a similar scary fashion.

One by one he met your team. They each took their turns interrogating him, Price and Ghost the most. They had to make sure he treated their teammate well after all.

Alfred and Price got along well, likely bonding over their shared paternal figure roles and SAS backgrounds.

Soap and Gaz likely bond well with Dick and Jason.

I'm fairly certain Stephanie and Soap would make a great duo. They would so play pranks around the manor, one time they messed with Ghost maybe messing with his gear like his mask or something (maybe making it something cute instead of scary idk LOL) and he couldn't find his backup, so he had to go around in some cute cat balaclava or something.

Ghost might give them some jump scares once in a while, maybe standing in the corner like Drax when they realize some of their equipment is jammed only giving them a eerie smile under his mask and leaving them to figure out some of their own equipment was replaced with water guns or something.

You might end up having to defuse potential fights between Ghost and Bruce reminding you of Bruce's old fights with Jason.

Speaking of Jason... he and Kyle might try to "one up" each other but neither thinking that anything can really beat being revived straight from a Lazarus Pit.

"Ever fallen out of a helicopter... twice?" Gaz smirked.

"Nah, but you ever try dying?" Jason asked in response earning widened eyes from Gaz.

"You serious mate?"

"More than I'd like to admit," he shrugged, "but hey, more to hold over B's head the better."

"Bloody hell... Gotham is insane."

"Takes one to know one, or something like that."

---

Okay so we know Ghost likes to throw in an occasional joke but imagine he'd pull one in front of your kids.

"What do you call a soldier who loves to paint?" he asked Damian who simply looked up at him and glared with Jason right behind him.

"An art-illery master," queue the complaining from Jason and an eye twitch from Damian.

Bruce often gets more stressed whenever you're on the field, somehow he always finds a way to sneak into the comms and make sure your okay on a private line.

"Bruce I'm fine," you grunted as you took down an enemy, "let me speak to my damn Captain."

"...No."

"B..." you sighed, "I'll make sure this mission is done as quick as possible. Just go take care of the kids for me."

"Fine," he grumbled.

"I love you- now give me back my line to Price."

He mutters a "love you too" before cutting the line.

"What the hell was that Lieutenant?" Price asked on a private line with you and 141.

"My dumb husband," you rolled your eyes. (This would likely be when they know Bruce is Batman to avoid confusion)

Soap would whistle on the comms "Someone misses their missus huh?"

"Don't push it Johnny."

----

tag list: @otterluver05 @sad-girl09

please feel free to let me know if you want to be tagged for any upcoming fics related to this crossover!

[hollytree33]

I’m back!!

[plumpybread]

Asking because of the previous ask, are you not a fan of Ethan anymore? If so, why?

It's complicated, I suppose (rant where i talk abt ethan but then also my OCs in general)

I really do not like the first version of Ethan I made like 3 years ago. Obviously I like indulging in devilish ideas but I don't know, it ended up turning into something I didn't really end up liking too much.

Then I revisited and sort of rewrote his story a bit a while back when making the OC archive site (I'm aware the site is not available anymore for the people who asked, I took it down myself) and was much happier with it for a while.

Don't get me wrong, I like Ethan, I know he's the OC people seem to like the most, but it's still like a personal mental battle of like maybe it's too effed up? Even when I draw characters going through unwilling/accidental extreme weight gain, I make them either ambivalent or accepting of their situation, but for Ethan it's kind of like torture, and I can't bring myself to get like..aroused and excited to draw more of that *personally*.

Changing up his lore wouldn't really work either since his story is based on helplessness and stuff, and it'd be disingenuous to make him be happy with his situation, so I've just sort of subconsciously decided to leave him as is and treat his content as its self contained story more than nsfw art to goon to, if that makes sense. I don't know, maybe I'm just thinking about it too much, but just wanted to say what goes through my head.

I also don't really revisit Ethan for the same reason I don't tend to draw much of all the past OCs I've made, as I see each of them as a way to explore different facets of how weight gain can manifest and adapt into a character's life to create a story around it, and I feel like I've covered most of the ground around them already.

All of my OCs come from a sudden short prompt that pops up in my head, usually out of nowhere. I suddenly wanted to make a big-hearted southern farm guy who was super massive and I immediately ran to draw Rudy, for example.

I draw them a little reference, with my typical bullet points next to them with basic info to get an idea of what their dynamic is like, and a more lengthily written backstory or description if I'm feeling fancy under it, and then for the next week or two it's all art of them and answering questions about them... and then another idea pops up, and a new OC comes in.

It's not that I get tired of them, but I just simply do not know what to draw with them. Ethan is the biggest outlier in this case, since he is my fattest OC and half immobile, you just don't really know how else to bring something new that's not him laying on his bed at a slightly different angle.

I guess that's why I always do OC asks, I sort of need them to be able to know what to draw with them, since I struggle coming with things like that by myself, and you know I always like avoiding drawing a character in a void with no context.

The Genshin Obesity AU is my longest running like "project"?? thing just because there is an endless amount of content I can pull from since there's all these characters, places and possibilities I can write from. My OCs are obviously much more self-contained and moreso serve as individual experiments to explore different people and scenarios, so after the 10th drawing of them... I genuinely do not know what else I can add to them.

I hope that was a bit insightful. I know most of you guys love Ethan, and I love him too! But I don't know, I guess this is why I don't tend to have immobile/near immobile OCs, since the potential art ideas for them drop to just them sitting on a mattress or sitting on the floor and I'm just left confused on what to do with them.

Maybe Ethan in his college days is something you guys might be interested in? Or I don't know, I'm just writing this post as my thoughts enter my head.

Sorry for the rant, I sure do love typing, hope this clears up some questions people might've had

[zexapher]

Vacuan Nights, Like Vacuan Days

They’re just so great together! I’d love for Jaune and Weiss to get a little downtime in Vacuo to live out a moment like this. They really deserve it, and I’d love to see Jaune’s guitar make a reappearance.

The comic here was inspired by u/Silverstar1243’s excellent piece of art, A Serenade Under the Moonlight. Send some love to them on their twitter, commission some art if you’re willing and able, they’ve made some great stuff.

You folks may have noticed I threw in a couple of references for those in the know; the Golden Oreos behind Yang (double stuffed, I might add) for the trio’s ship, Weiss liking it rough for Mallobaude’s great fic, and of course I made a whole theme around the Arabian Nights Disney song. A song, along with its Aladdin compatriots, which I spent the better part of a day finding covers for just to listen to on repeat while I worked.

This one’s now officially my longest comic project, with 14 panels, two over the past record since I added the White Knight kiss at the end. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. Not sure I’d say it was more difficult than my Vanity of Vanities post, but for this one I actually knew how to use my editing software going into it (at least somewhat).

Put a lot of work into this one, been working on it on and off since February. Took a few breaks for vacation, to make my memorial post for Rooster Teeth, and another five meme edits or so, but I came back around to it. First half was pretty easy, relatively minor edits inserting characters into scenes and so on. The second half with Jaune and Weiss was tougher though, with color correcting, merging poses, redrawing features, drawing Jaune’s entire head to fix some lighting issues, etc. Really like how the edit to make Jaune strum his guitar turned out.

The time it took to make the whole comic got me down a little, until I did a bit of math. Including my side projects since starting this, all the scripting and editing and all, I’ve been pumping out a panel every two days. That seems pretty good to me, that kind of accomplishment makes me a little proud of myself.

Really need to get around to watching the second part of the Justice League Crossover movies. It’s got a few Vacuo scenes that might make things a little more authentic instead of me just using Saphron’s house and pretending it’s a suite in Vacuo. I do love taking yet more character stills from Jaune and friends experiencing deep trauma and turning it into something positive, been making that a bit of a personal habit. And I’ve got to say, the background for Jaune and Weiss’ scene is really beautiful, pulled it from when Sun and Neptune hear Ruby’s message about Salem. That’s just a really good shot all on its own, I even saved a copy for my computer’s wallpaper after editing out the two.

Posting a big RWBY White Knight edit, watching not one but two RWBY Beyond episodes, and all on the trail of the news that RWBY’s found partners that they’re negotiating with and that the creative team is expected to stay on. And I'm sipping bubble tea. Life is good.

Anyway, pardon the long write up. I’m invested in this one, and am quite pleased with how the comic turned out. I hope you all get a kick out of it as well!

[sweet-star-sketches]

Sketches + Colour from December 9th-11th, 2024 oops! new blorbos unlocked ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

listen December is Dread Month™ for me so I take whatever my brain can get to survive it emotionally, so in this instance it's joining my buddy @eleanorose123 in her current hyperfixation like I have for the past while :D So while she is still my "target audience" so to speak because she loves Yu-Gi-Oh and I like making art for friends, these are for me too :] (like all of my art is, really. I would not spend this much time on it if it wasn't at least partially for me!) I'm more or less a "fandom tourist" at this point; I don't officially go here but a friend does so I'm here visiting to have a good time, and whatever "souvenirs" I get are all the funny scenes and funky little guys that live in my head rent free now! Yippee :D I have more doodles that are actually older than this set, but I want to do a little more with them so I'll post those later :]

I have a lot to say so I'll put the rest under the cut! (apologies in advance for my verbosity but also this is my blog lol)

I have no reasoning behind why my brain arrived at the idea of Kirby crossover art that parodies an iCarly meme but do I really need it??? Naaaaaaaah :] Two of my funny space creatures together <3 I enjoy the idea of Saiou just carrying him around like "yep you're mine now :)" Ponder the orb (and buy him a smoothie) Unironically this is some of the best art I've made all year, like it turned out so absurdly well that I took it to clean lines and colour/shading, and that too came out well! They both have their respective anime colours, but with some additional highlights and coloured line art because my boys deserve it <3333

This is honestly the most fun I've had with art in a while too, though I know fan art tends to do that for an artist! Don't get me wrong, I've loved everything I've put out for my own projects and commissions this year, as I am not predominantly a fan artist despite how many things I love in that regard.

But considering I've been largely unable to actually let myself do this kind of art as frequently as I used to (the ever-looming anxiety of not getting enough commission work to live or personal project work done to tell my stories is a strong one) I really needed this, even if it was born out of necessity to survive Dread Month than anything else. That's as good a reason as any, I suppose! Might be an odd thing to reflect on for such silly/lighthearted art such as this, but I think that's the point.

I'm a firm believer in the idea that no artistic endeavour is ever truly wasted, even if you don't know how or when it'll come back to you! I actually got some really good analysis of my own art journey and style during my adventures in exploring the Yu-Gi-Oh art style here, which was as unexpected as the rest of this, honestly!

I'm already an introspective person to begin with, but the end of the year makes me reflect on things even more than usual, so thanks for reading this far! If nothing else, I hope you enjoyed the sillies :]

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

the counterpart

chapter 6 — done it warning, done it now

art cr: @zaunitearchives our most faithful viktor lover <3 (can you guess which one of the inspo pics belongs to me?because i wasn’t joking when i said i might start using my pictures for these silly frames — I‘M DEDICATED to this fic okay)

word count: 2,2k

VERY nsfw, horny idiots in love, dialogue dialogue dialogue, explicit language, public masturbation, vehicle sex if you will. some porn to prepare you for the chaos i may or may not cause in the next chap 🫣

part 7

—

“Do you ever feel like a pawn?” 

He turns around and his weary head tips deeper into what little comfort an old bus seat could provide, honeyed eyes a confused reproach pointed at your sheepish smile — had you dawdling over the halo of sun rays slipping prettily into the dark scatter of his hair, turning chestnut into rich, warm bourbon. 

“Since when are you interested in philosophy?”

It makes you stumble over an innocent chuckle; fingers grow flush and hot against his, threatening to slide out of the warm press of hands — to satiate the sudden whim of cradling his face and dipping your thumbs gently into the sharp lines of defined cheekbones. 

“Answer the question, Viktor.” 

Oh the forwardness. Always gives him the urge to comply no matter how ridiculous the request is — be it a hypothetical silly ‘what if’ or an actual firm demand. 

“I don’t project on inanimate objects, milackú,” he maneuvered smoothly out of your prudent trip, placing a cheeky kiss on the curious arc of your mouth. “But, in order not to digress — yes, I suppose I do. Quite occasionally. In your arms.” 

“Smooth. Bravo, Viktor — that was so sweet I might have to see a dentist now.”

“Don’t forget to send me the bill.” 

You gawked at the tooth gap in his proud grin with a hopeless sigh, leaning closer to tuck your face into the crevice of his slender neck. Couldn’t care less about the other passengers — nor did they care about you, to be frank: your seats were hidden in the back corner securely enough. Lips pressed to the fresh love bruise, so poorly covered with a mess of his unbuttoned collar — a not so humble possessive remnant of the morning tryst in his room. You craved a change of scenery: ravishing only one bed quickly becomes boring and unfair to its just as much ravished owner. 

“No, but seriously,” you kept prying, words a muffled mumble against the slim of his skin — had you smiling when you caught the subtle scent of soap on the barely exposed collarbone, and his hand found tender leverage in your hair as thoughts drifted to the delicious things he did to you in that bathroom this very morning. Even longed to hold him there for a little longer — if not for the damn bus, that was now rapidly moving towards your opportunity to flaunt. Or to become a pitiful disgrace. Unfortunately, so far you were only leaning towards the latter. 

It was Viktor’s idea. To play a local tournament — a somewhat silly for a person of his rating gathering, that he had no valid reason to attend. And yet he was so insistent on taking you there, held your hand so securely tight as you tried to fruitlessly convince him of your incompetence. Well, not incompetence, per se — you were simply a tad bit rusty, with a long forgotten dream of ever turning your passion into something professional. Endured a lengthy back and forth filled with his soft persistence and your capricious reluctance (which was secretly just a failed attempt to cover your incitement). 

Because you loved the competition. Used to live off the thrill of having people at the edges of their seats, consumed their defeated groans alongside each captured piece, and forcibly swallowed the spiteful comments spinning at the tip of your tongue during each bitter post-defeat handshake. Adored the elegant gall-spitting on the checkered board, and loved hearing people whisper malicious things whenever you entered the room. 

What happened to that version of you? Was it still there — a sharp tiny warrior, or ‘that pretentious little cunt’ — a title you wore proudly after a certain querulous opponent had revealed it to you generously all these years ago?

Well, certainly. Angry girls grow up shaped into furious women, but your fierceness is now only imposed on men, poetry and lechery. Anything but tournaments. 

And — while chess still owned your heart — you had to bow your head to the countless obstacles of life, aiming for stability; fed the vigorous child inside you countless books and analyzed hundreds of games, hoping that, eventually, that stupid yearning will be sated. 

But now you had him — your bright opponent, rated strong intermediate and highly respected in narrow circles. A player of great potential — he was everything you could’ve been by now, a living proof of one’s passion and major coexisting peacefully. Your personal Czech serpent, the gentlest hangman of your fortitude — eager to get you rated, to make you see your skills through his meticulous eyes.

So here you were. Entwined with him in the contentious privacy of this backseat, harried with occasional chokeholds of your nervousness. Viktor was waiting for your point, all flushed ears and uneven breath. 

“What I mean is,” you sighed again, tongue dancing skittishly over the front row of teeth, “don’t you ever feel so small and utterly unimportant? Like everyone else is so much more valuable?” 

“But pawns are very important,” he protested, coaxing you to quit hiding from his acute eyes, “I delivered checkmates with pawns countless times before. And so did you.“

You couldn’t argue with that logic. Just sank deeper into his arms and watched the light run through his dilated pupils — the slipping boredom of the city both of you were getting out of today. 

“Yes, but would you rather lose a pawn or… say, a rook? Or a knight? Or quite literally any other thing?” reluctant to bend to his attempts at soothing your restless mind, you refused to retreat and sweetly troubled him further. His smirk curled atop yours in a curt little touch — but one can’t kiss away a worry that excessive. Even as determined as he was to try. 

“Depends on the circumstances. Surely, choosing to lose a powerful piece over a less significant one sounds unreasonable when you put it that way — but we both know it doesn’t exactly work like that.” 

His sigh — or was it the rough scorch of the sun? — was making you melt; took care of your misery like the acidic little thing it is. Big palm stirred over the hem of a cotton dress, tracing it with a tremble, then slipping cautiously underneath — to curl around your thigh and pin it to the seat like a gentle shackle. You could still make out the grip through the sheer restraint of fabric; had your legs clenching together to trap it viciously into a crate of skin and soft little hairs: they stood on their ends oh so treacherously, each shiver palpable under the calluses of Viktor’s fingers. 

“Moje laska.” There it is again. Turning you into a dumb pile of freshly discovered weaknesses — he could burn you to ashes that very moment and you’d gladly let him get away with it, as long as that hand stayed so close to home, damp from your sweat and whatever beads of slick seeping through the soaked ruin of your underwear. If only he could reach down and throw а quivering thigh over one scrawny shoulder, tongue a trail chasing the wet deliciousness of your lust after him — just how he likes it: sweet, slow and salacious. The holy trinity of your fervent undoings.

“You’ll make them all feel like pawns,” you felt him sting the shell of your ear in a tortuous whisper, his caress tenderly cruel against what little composure left between tense legs, “I can promise you that much.” 

“We have a tournament to play, and that’s what you’re thinking about right now?” you tried to snatch the power out of his hands, but tripped over his long middle finger — so viciously close to the swollen folds. He could’ve grasped the shape of them through the obstacle of fabric if only you approved of the mischief. 

“We have a tournament to play, and you’re wasting our precious time on baseless self-consciousness. I am merely providing a pleasant distraction,” he explained, then retreated to offer you a moment of hesitation. “Unless the setting is too public for you, of course. I don’t mind proceeding in private, with less prying eyes nailed to your potential, eh… agony.” 

“My, you’re shameless.” 

“You’re one to talk. So? May I?”

Gaze quickly flipped through the row of potential witnesses, failing to notice a single giving a fuck one. Viktor waited for your permission with patiently bated breath, watching your throat move when you gulped, slightly strangled. 

“Please.” 

His lips protruded into a line — a show-off of a smirk at the eroded crumbles of your sanity. Because, indeed — your writhing was needy to its very core, legs tumbled in to coax your salvation out of him. Impatient, fitful, stubborn — your demand was impeccable in its tacit delivery, emphasized the urgency when a single fingertip brushed the entrance soft and languid, then found the wet, laced at the edges barrier. White and see-through, with a silly bow sitting prettily right on top — he watched you put them on fresh out of shower, all damp-skinned and weak-kneed, the swift slide of light fabric over the divine thick of your thighs. It’s a shame he couldn't see the mess he’d made out of them. 

A well-rehearsed route: a casual slide inside the delicate garment, a timid swipe over each plush fold. Immutable, but you liked it — begged for more into his rouge under the white shirt shoulder. It matched you so effortlessly. Though his attire was sticky only from sweat. 

Torturous. Purely, perfectly, obscenely tortuous — that’s how his finger felt, hot and slick, in a precious little roll against the swell of your clit, and you found hold of his lean thigh, nails like sharp anchors in the gentle flesh of it — squeezing hard enough to cut through his pants. And his little chuckles —  these warm brisk spurts of muffled laughter. They had your free from gnawing at him hand pressing tight against your mouth, pushing the debauched whine back into your throat until it was practically strangling you, swallowing hard to keep everyone present unaware of the stage of bliss you were going through in that damned seat. As tempted as you were to scream at the top of your burning lungs — it was best for your audience to remain unconcerned. 

Don’t get caught, don’t attract attention, don’t fuck it up — but god was it difficult when you needed so much more than just these restrained, subtle cirles against your aching clit. Glassy-eyed and so tense, you silently pleaded him to keep going — a second away from rolling into his lap to fall strung up on his just as much aching cock and have him thrust your heart out in that very grimmy seat. And he would do it, always so happy to please — no doubt muttering swears towards the oblivious handful of other passengers, mourning the urge to tend to as you deserve it — full-course and thorough. 

He probably won’t fuck you in public ever again. Not where he couldn’t pay you every last neck kiss and every last lewd little word, at the very least. 

But for now he tormented you meticulously towards the sweet climax — clockwise, calculated, gentle. With an occasional flick of darkened eyes over each potential witness: to make sure he’s the only one to savor your collapse, the ever thoughtful protector of your pleasure. And there he was in your ear again — with a filthy helping of pleasantries spoken softly to ensure you get what you want. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Voice satin, motions timidly flawless. He had a bit of a hard time pronouncing it, choked on a humm so utterly awe-struck. “Oh, the things I’d do to you if only we were alone. The things I’m tempted to do to you — to hell with privacy. Being quiet doesn’t suit you, milovaná.” 

And you finally spilled. Heavy head dropped back in what could’ve been a loud lustful moan — mouth formed an eager O under the slam of your sweaty palm. Buckled knees and tiny convulsions — you came not nearly hard enough in comparison to what he usually puts you through, yet it still lanced through you and turned limbs numb, and your clit felt sore from the remnants of your dissolving arousal, throbbing under the generous stroke of his fingertips. 

A slow orgasm — both in delivery and departure, a taunting treat that left you delightfully dizzy. You captured the warm sight of him through the fluttering cover of lashes, myriad white dots biting roughly at your vision, rubbing rudely into a sunny line that melted the ends of his wild hair into a lighter shade. His hand slid away, tremulous. Left a glossy trace all the way up to your shaking knee. His thin wrist definitely caught a little cramp. 

“Breathe.” A sultry reminder upon the slope of your shoulder as his lips found some skin in a brief kiss. Cheeky. Self-pleased. Had you nearly sobbing in fresh desperation when he wiped two glistening fingers to a fetched out handkerchief ostentatiously. Absorbed every drop of you and tucked it back into his breast pocket — to lewdly wear you there next to his heart. 

You’ll need a few cigarettes back-to-back to recover from this.  

The bus needed fifteen more minutes to gently spit you out into the hostile arms of the competition.

—

tags: @thehistoriangirl @zaunitearchives @blissfulip @queen-of-elves @vyshnevska

[lunaroserites]

Art and Ice - Doodle

Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Characters: Natasha, Wanda, Pietro, Loki, Bucky, Sam Wilson, Clint Barton, a lot of the avengers cast is mentioned.

Summery: MC asks Bucky to be her focus on her project.

This might a 2 or 3 parter (it's gonna be more because cannot help myself). College AU, our boy Bucky is on the hockey team, and reader is an art major (because I love that trope and couldn't help myself)

Warnings: Not beta'd! All mistakes are my own. Friends fluff, swearing, mentions of college students being college students. Bit of friendly harmless flirting between friends. Bucky is a playboy. Fighting.

Word Court: 2770

Likes, reblogs, comments are appreciated!

Please do not repost, translate or otherwise copy my work elsewhere, without my express permission, thank you! Lunaroserites on tumblr and ao3

Catch up here: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 ❤️

“You think I can just say fuck it and drop out?” The words tumbled out of your mouth quickly as you walked with Nat toward the arena. Practice was in the afternoon today because there was a game tonight. According to Nat our rival team would be here later to do some warm up before the game tonight. 

“Seriously?” She raised a manicured brow at you. 

“Maybe Pietro was right. I should be a drama major,” you whispered, mostly to yourself. You knew you were being over dramatic about the ordeal, but Barnes was an egotistical jerk and he was going to make this project hell. Was that a pessimistic take on it? Maybe. Were you wrong? Probably not. 

You pulled your school hoodie tighter, winter's grasp was holding on tight this year. The wind nipped at your nose and cheeks as you both made your way into the arena. Once inside the main doors heat blasted at you, you rubbed your arms with your hands and looked at Nat who was doing the same. 

“You are dramatic. But it’s gonna be fine,” her confidence almost made you believe her. Originally you were just going to wait and ask him outside the arena, in hopes maybe his cocky, surefire attitude would be on the back burner. But Nat said practice was amping up now as the season drew closer to playoffs and the team would be traveling a lot more. Nat led us to our seats next to the bench, another woman was sitting there already. 

“Peggy!” Nat said cheerfully, as she sat down next to her. 

“Natasha!” she said cheerfully back. “Who’s this?” She smiled at you. You waved and introduced yourself.

“Oh you’re the one doing the art project? Steve mentioned it,” she asked. 

You nodded, “news travels fast?” you laugh a little weirded out how she already knew. 

“Hockey players gossip worse than fishermen wives in the locker room...”

“And out of it,” Nat added with a laugh, Peggy chuckled as well.

 “And Barnes can’t shut up about the fact you drew him,” Peggy said with an eyeroll. Right, you thought. Peggy probably spent a decent time around him, since Steve and him were best friends, from your understanding it was rare to see one without the other. 

“I’m not surprised,” you chuckled, looking down at your sketchpad. The night before you stayed up and watched videos of Barnes’ best plays and a couple of his interviews. There were some very detailed pictures of his face there. You quickly turned to a black page so Nat wouldn’t see it and poke fun. When you found a muse, it was hard for you to focus on anything but it. You could feel the hole you were digging getting bigger and bigger. 

“Fuck,” you glared at Barnes as he slammed into the glass in front of you, startling you. He had his helmet lifted and he was giving you a bright and flirty smile. You raised an eyebrow at him and shook your head, uninterested in his antics. He slipped his helmet down and pushed back, skating backwards, he moved so fluidly, you couldn’t help but pay attention. 

“Oi! Barnes. Pay attention,” someone snapped, you looked towards the voice and stared for a moment. 

“Coach Fury,” Nat said to you, “the only person that can get Barnes to pay attention besides Steve,” she finished. You nodded before looking back at the players. Your eyes were drawn to a smaller player, he wore a 12 on his back, Stark. He had been in one of your business classes you took in your second semester. He was an interesting guy, cocky and arrogant, he also came from money. His father was the owner of Stark Industries. He was speeding up and down the ice with ease. 

“12, he's fast,” you murmured to Nat, who nodded.

“He broke a record last year, his size makes it easier for him to zoom around,” Nat answered as she looked down at my paper, “Barnes really has your eye doesn’t he, this is like the Hela thing all over again,” she chuckled.  

“Yeah,” you blushed deeply and looked back down at your paper. You really wished one of the other teammates caught your attention, if Clint did this would be much simpler. But of of course the school hot shot had to be one to catch your eye.

“Hey,” Nat lifted your chin and made you look at her. “It’s fine, muses come and go. That’s how art is,” she smiled, that was one thing you loved about Nat, she never questioned or made fun of your muses or how ridiculous an idea you had was when it came to your art. She would poke fun, and make silly jokes, but nothing harmful. Just good natured fun. Her support was unwavering and true. 

Nat was a dancer, she was studying dance and dance theory. That’s how you two met, you accidently stumbled into one of the dance studios after hours instead of the art room. She was there practicing, and made small talk with you. You ended up just sitting on the dance room floor and working on your project talking with her as she practiced. 

“You know what’s funny, I didn’t think about dance for this project,” you chuckled after you relaxed a little. Nat’s face broke into a wide smile. 

“It would be the same as Pietro and the track team, but at least we look cute in our dance attire,” she mused lightly. You laughed loudly at her comment. 

“You really hate those track uniforms,” you shook your head as you chuckled some more. Clint zipped passed a moment later and Nat‘s eye followed him like a magnet. “Goodness, you’re so in love, it’s sickening,” you mused, she pushed your shoulder playfully. 

“How long have you two known one another?” Peggy asked. 

“Since first semester,” you answered her with a smile. 

“You guys are such good friends, I would have expected childhood bestfriends,” Peggy said, as she smiled at Steve who skated by. 

“We just clicked,” you shrugged, returning to your sketchpad. 

Practice drew to a close a little while later and you followed behind Nat and Peggy as they made their way back toward the locker room. There were a few girls, including Pepper Potts, Starks on again/off again girlfriend. Every other week Nat would be talking about it. The girl Bucky had on his arm last time was missing from the group of girls waiting for the players to leave the locker room. First out was Clint, and he made a beeline for Nat, instantly pulling her into a hug and pressing his nose into her neck, she squealed a little as his cold nose made contact with her skin.

Peggy excused herself to go wait by the door for Steve who emerged with Barnes a moment later. She whispered something in Steve’s ear and pointed over at you with a smile. Steve nodded and waved with a small smile of his own. Barnes followed his gaze and instantly he perked up when he noticed you. He swaggered toward you, past the gaggle of girls waiting to try and get his attention, you noticed a couple of them glare in your direction. You stood with your arms crossed over your chest, sketch book tucked against your side. You looked up at him as he came up to you making a complete stop a foot in front of you. He really didn’t care about personal space, you took one step back so you didn't have to crane your neck as much to look him in the face.

“And what do I owe the pleasure today Doodle,” you cocked an eyebrow at the nickname, and squinted slightly. The nickname didn’t make you scrunch your nose or want to gag so it wasn’t the worst. You sighed heavily and danced on the balls of your feet for a moment. He just stared, watching you intently, a dumb cocky smirk plastered on his face. 

“Would you let me draw you for my art project?” You asked, you wished the weight bearing down on your shoulders lifted but it didn’t. You dreaded the thought of spending more time with this menace of a man. His lip twitched further upward and showed some of his perfect white teeth. 

“Ah Doodle, I thought you'd never ask,” he ruffled your hair with one of his big hands. You groaned and moved your head from him and tried to fix your hair. 

“Don’t touch me, please,” you said sternly. “I just need permission to draw you and use your likeness.” 

“Ah don’t be like that,” he moved forward and you stepped backwards and to the right, dodging him. He huffed in annoyance and you stared at him with your arms crossed again and slight scowl. “Will you be at the game tonight?” He asked, finally standing upright, his own arms crossed across his broad chest. 

“Seats are sold out besides the reserved seats for team partners,” you stated, “so no not tonight.”  

“There's always a seat reserved for my girl, you can have that one,” he stated matter of factly. 

“I’m not your girl,” you said back firmly. “This whole thing is for my art project,” you moved your hand jestering to both of you, “it ends once my project is done.” 

You couldn’t quite place the look on his face after you said that, but you could pick up the small look of challenge in his eyes. It seemed he was making this game, like he was contemplating how long it would be before you would cave and give him what he wanted. Another notch in his bed post. From what you could tell based on his body language alone he was not used to being rejected. Women usually flaunted over him and fell in his lap, all he had to do was choose who he wanted at that moment. Your determination to not be one of those girls was considered a challenge to him, met head on with stubborn determination to break you down and get what he wanted in the end. That made your stomach twist at the thought, he only wanted to do this to sleep with you, have some fun and then dump you off on Loki’s lap heart broken. 

You shook your head, lost in your own thoughts. Barnes was still looking at you, a contemplative look on his face. He had his chin in his hand as he rubbed it, “this will be fun, see you tonight Doodle.” You glared at him as he walked away, twirling his keys around his finger. 

“Jerk,” you said softly to yourself before you made your way over to Nat and Clint. 

“Well that went better than I expected,” Nat said quietly as the three of you left the rink until you had to be back later. 

A sleek black car was parked at the curb, you waved goodbye to Nat and Clint as you ran over to the car and slid into the passenger seat, you rolled the window down and shouted “goodbye! See you later,” Nat waved and they continued walking. 

“Hey Loki!” You said cheerfully. 

“Hello darling, I take it asking Barnes went well?” He asked as he put the car in drive and pulled out from the curb. 

“It went alright. The cocky bastard,” you clipped your belt in place and turned your head to look at Loki fully. “He’s already flirting with me,” you shook your head in annoyance. 

“At least he has good taste darling,” Loki said sweetly as we sped down the freeway into town to have an early dinner.

“Have fun darling,” Loki shouted out the open window of the car as he dropped you off at the arena. You turned back and gave him an unamused smile and flipped him off. 

“Yeah, fuck you,” you said with a slight laugh and turned away, waving, “love you dork,” you said over your shoulder. Nat was waiting just inside the arena for you and led you to your seats. 

“So one of the perks of dating hockey players? Free seats?” You mused sitting down next to her, the arena was still pretty empty as the game didn’t start for 45 minutes. 

“One of them,” she chuckled. Warm ups started and Clint stopped for a moment in front of us and lifted his helmet.

“Hey girls,” he said with a smile before darting off to warm up. 

“Looks like Barnes just noticed us,” Nat said as he skated over. 

“He had me clocked from the parking lot,” you grumbled. Nat laughed loudly and placed her hand on your shoulder wiping a tear from her eye. 

“You’re not wrong,” she said between giggles. Barnes skated forward and came to stop sending glittering flecks of shaved ice toward the glass. 

“Nat, Doodle, how's my new favourite girl?” He asked with a cocky smile. You rolled your eyes, and placed your cheek on your hand as you looked at him with a deadpan expression, Nat smirked next to you. You watched as Barnes ran his tongue over his teeth, he then winked and skated off to join warm ups. 

“Do the woman he dates actually like that attitude?” You mused absently as you doodled on the open page of your sketchbook. Nat shrugged.

“Honestly, they’re probably more interested in his looks, and don’t care about anything else. That or the potential paycheck he’ll be earning if they can tie him down long enough,” She said softly. Your gut twisted uncomfortably at that, and you grimaced. Sure the guy was an arrogant prick, but he deserved better than that. Nat noticed your facial expression and nodded. “It’s not really fair, there's moments when he’s more than the arrogant show off, he’s pretty sweet. I think he’s just gotten used to hiding it; he doesn't bother being anything else.” 

“Be what they expect of you and no one will question it,” you hummed. You mindless doodles turned into a simple sketch of his face. You admired the sharpness of his jaw, his mouth set in a soft line that was slightly upturned.  

The game started, and you were too focused on watching Barnes skate to really watch the game. Not that you really understood the sport enough to really understand what was happening in front of you. First intermission passed and they were half through the second period when a black punk landed on your sketch pad. It startled you and your head shot up and you meant Barnes eyes. Nat was giggling next to you as you picked the offending puck up and handed it to the kid sitting behind you, who happened to be wearing a Barnes jersey. The kids day was made and Barnes’ narrowed his eyes at you. You smirked back in return and went back to drawing. 

The crowd erupted in loud chants as Barnes scored with less than a second left in the third period, winning the game for your college. You watched as Barnes skated around celebrating his goal only for the captain of the other team to get up in his face. You tensed up as you watched the guy push Barnes shoulders and then grab his protective gear getting in his face. 

So the rest of the team came to investigate and there was an all out brawl on the ice right in front of you. You stood up and looked down. Barnes was on top of the captain, his fist raised and he was breathing heavily. 

“Bucky,” his name left your lips before you could stop it and he had to have heard you because his face tilted in your direction for a fraction of a second and the captain took that as an opportunity to flip Barnes over and bring a hard fist down on the bridge of his nose. You shrieked as blood gushed out of Barnes’ nose. Nat was standing next to you as you both watched in horror. 

You turned your head and saw your college coach hopping the bench and helping refs break it up. Steve hauled the other team's captain off his best friend and shoved him into the arms of other teammates who pulled him further away. Steve helped Barnes up and took his face in his hands, Barnes just gave him a dopey smile. His gaze turned to you for a moment and he smiled a bigger smile.  You looked at him with wide eyes and your mouth agape, horrified. 

The captain of the other team didn’t look like he fared much better. He was bloody and his eye was swelling shut with each passing second. Coach Fury looked pissed, and was stalking over to the other teams coach for a few words, a ref following close behind.

Taglist: @vicmc624, @calwitch, @learisa, @aaqua-tofana

Feel free you send me a message if you have a request or would like more, or would like to be added to the tag list <3

[laurark]

2023 Wrap Up

A strange year that was both long and short. The main lesson to learn from 2023 is the same lesson I have been learning every year since I was 6 years old: Things happen if you try!

 I spent a lot of time this year hitting my head against a wall, or rather healing from an RSI that caused making art to become really fraught. I could bear the wrist pain in order to do my favorite thing (drawing!!!) but then the pain stuck around after I had clocked out for the day and was making dinner. It would go like this: I want to make pasta sauce using canned tomatoes, but using a can opener is so painful now that maybe I should just do something else. The onions and garlic are already cooking in the pan though, what can I pivot that to? I felt like the biggest dunce in the world. I worked my way into being cursed, I deserved it.

I have this craving to just commit to a big art project, like a graphic novel, and keep my head down working on it. Having all my time devoted to work feels a bit like doing penance, like earning my bread. But I look at the world and I know I cannot draw my way out of this. I can’t write my way out of this. I can’t post my way out of this. I am unprepared for what I need to do to earn a better tomorrow. But I am prepared to learn.

I changed up my desk ergonomics and my wrist healed. Thank you to the huge desk easel that I stole from my parents’ house. It’s ugly, heavy, stained, and I keep banging my elbows on its sharp corners. It sucks but it saved my life. Do not resist making your workspace uglier if it might help you! 

Making The Influence and participating in the ShortBox Comics Fair was a huge work highlight this year. I’m so grateful I can make a work with dark themes and have it be understood and appreciated. The encouraging response to The Influence did a lot to kill the bad faith reviewer in my mind. Things are possible if you try!

I started painting again and I really love it. I’m trying to just follow the image-making. Painting is play to me and I want it to remain so. I feel myself itch to turn it into some kind of profitable thing, to make it palatable, but I’m trying to resist so it remains a place of experimentation. 

I also wrote a short novel. It’s awful. I just re-read it and it’s so bad, but reading it makes me happy. It needs serious reworking to be a proper novel, but I did technically cross the finish line and write the whole story. It was very refreshing and informative to branch out like this, even if I don’t think this particular example is fit for human consumption. Earlier in my life I was so stubborn about ONLY working in comics but now I’d like to pursue whatever path I can to have a creative career. If you try!

I had a great time tabling at Short Run this year. Two different people came to my table and told me they came to the show specifically to see my table. One person said Bug Boys was responsible for facilitating “many special moments” with them and their niece. I don’t want to forget about moments like this. It means a lot to me. 

It occurs to me as I type out this year’s accomplishments, they’re mostly things I did at home alone. I haven’t rejoined the world after COVID in a meaningful way, the way I hoped I would during lockdown. It comes naturally to me to make up excuses to stay home, keep my head down, watch how things play out before joining in. That attitude does me a disservice. It isolates me. When other people are only in the screen, they become hypothetical. It’s not right to live this way, but it’s comfortable to me. It feels “safe” after COVID, even though it’s not safe. I know I need to change this. 

It feels sick and strange to be blogging in my safe little apartment during a time of bloodshed. To flip through my planner and think of my future while others starve is obscene. My entire life was obscene in this fashion. It’s my responsibility to sit with this feeling and do something with it.

Here’s to a better 2024. We can do it, we can try. 

In love and solidarity, 

Laura K.

[chronicbeans]

Wally Darling with a Restoration Project Reader (part 3)

It's been a few weeks, now... You feel like something is wrong...

TW: Mentions of Hacking, Scopophobia/Eye Imagery

🗞️ Daniel has been having more and more mail sent his way. The time you all spend in Finn's house, restoring Welcome Home merchandise and media, is getting longer and longer. Your mother has been getting more and more snippy about it all.

🗞️ You grab an old book titled "Happy Birthday, Barnaby!" Opening it up reveals how it's Barnaby's birthday and Wally, Julie, and Sally are all planning to throw a surprise party for him. What you have found with almost every single item that has Wally in it is that he is, most of the time, looking at you. Well, the person looking at the material. Even on the page where everyone is telling Barnaby happy birthday. The rest of the neighbors are all looking at Barnaby, smiling and clapping as he blows out some birthday candles. Wally, however, is looking at you. His body is turned to face Barnaby, but his head is turned towards you, his eyes locked onto you.

🗞️ You put the book down, asking the rest of the group "Wally seems rather odd, huh? He's like... my favorite, but he is very eerie. Do you have any theories as to why he stares at us?" Amy makes a face of concentration, before saying "Well, Wally is meant to make a connection with the children watching the show. It is probably because they want to emphasize that connection, or make it stronger through eye contact." She then clasps her hands together, continuing "I really wish they did that with Julie! She is so cute!" "HOLY-! WHAT?!"

🗞️ Everyone looks over to Finn, who has been looking at the Welcome Home Restoration Project blog on his laptop. His eyes grow wide as he says "Y'all, I think someone has hacked us or something! Look! I found this link beneath the Wally character file on the neighborhood page! It leads to... this..."

🗞️ He turns the laptop around, showing you all a dark page. After a few moments, an image fades in of Wally, sketched in red, facing one of Home's windows. Home's large eye shakes, with red seemingly leaking from it. Wally's kneeling down, his left arm outstretched.

🗞️ You can't help but watch and think. Why is Wally kneeling like that? Why is Home watching Wally so intently? Is Wally inside or outside of Home? Why is it so dark? You ask Finn "Was there anything else odd on our blog?" Finn nods "A bunch of out of place letters."

🗞️ Daniel looks around, before saying "I'll check it out. Maybe this could be the work of whoever is sending us this stuff? The letters could mean something. Amy, you continue working on restoring the art. (Y/N), you can manage the guestbook. We can all work together to try to figure out what this all means."

🗞️ Amy tilts her head, before asking "Should we all like... I don't know... pick a set of characters to research? I feel like it would be difficult for any of us to remember so much about every character when we are learning about them through little dribbles of content. We might get confused and mix them up with one another." Daniel thinks about it, before looking over to you. "What do you think about that idea? I don't want to just say yes to it. This is all very interesting, so I don't know if focusing on a couple characters will make some of us feel left out..."

🗞️ You find yourself immediately responding. It is almost as if it were an instinctual reaction. "I will focus on Wally, Home, and Barnaby." Daniel's eyes widen a bit at how blunt and quickly you responded to his question. He slowly nods "Alright... I'll focus on Frank, Howdy, and Eddie..." Amy decides to focus on Julie, Sally, and Poppy. Finn shrugs, saying that he will just stick with the blog, and that any remaining characters you all find out about will fall onto him.

🗞️ You take some of the restored media with you when you go home. It is all about Wally, Home, and/or Barnaby. Your mother seems to have already gone to bed by the time you get to the house.

🗞️ Quietly stepping up the stairs, you enter your room. It's a bit of a mess, due to how you spend all your free time at Finn's house these days. You keep forgetting to clean it. Placing the pile of papers and books onto your desk, you get a text from Daniel. It simply reads, in all capitals, "GO TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD PAGE ON YOUR PHONE."

🗞️ You quickly do so, the unspoken rule between the group being that texts in all capitals conveys an extreme seriousness that must not be ignored. In cases like these, it is the equivalent of STAT.

🗞️ You go to the neighborhood page on the blog. You are shocked to find that every link is messed up, almost as if they were moved upwards. The image of Home, as well, has been moved to reveal a dark void either behind or beneath the red house. Within that void is a small, white spiral.

🗞️ You don't know why, but you feel a chill looking at it. You can't look away, either. It's kind of like it has infected your brain, causing your mind to spiral, as well. Thoughts and questions fill it to the brim. It is so hard to do so, but after a few minutes, you manage to break yourself away from the void, and go to bed.

[girldragongizzard]

Chapter 8: Influencers

I want to talk to Rhoda, but I get Chapman.

Sie messages me from the street corner, and I wander over to the edge of my building to look down at hir, where she waves at me.

Then I retreat from the edge and message back, “Come up.”

I do want to talk to hir about a great number of things. Especially just after Ptarmigan’s divination.

So I wait.

Chapman comes up through the building, doing hir usual thing of Artistically hacking the alarms and locks and somehow avoiding notice. And after a little while, the access hatch opens and sie extract hirself from the floor below to stand before me.

It’s a much cooler day than yesterday, and Chapman’s wearing an outfit that looks like a cross between a witch and a clown, just without any significant makeup. Hir purse is a big, black leather crossbody affair with chrome studs and spikes all over it. A floppy wide brim black wool hat hardly conceals hir magenta pompadour. That gives hir sort of a Boy George look.

I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of how Chapman dresses. It makes me inordinately happy and puts me at ease every time I see hir latest outfit.

But I try to cling to some of my irritation and discomfort from the last day and a half, because I have things I want to remember to ask.

But I start with something light and fun that I also want to know about, “How many clothes have you?”

“Oh,” Chapman says with a little grin. “Less than you might think. But that is a question that I try to make my coworkers ask every day, even though I’ve already answered it. I’ve sort of turned my apartment into a walk-in closet, but I cycle through every item several times a year. I just try to make it so that I don’t wear the same outfit twice in that year. Every day is a different combination.”

“Amazing.”

“I’m proud of it! It took me a while to get it down to a routine.”

“Ptarmigan visited,” I report, changing the subject abruptly.

“Ah,” Chapman responds. “May I sit down?”

I smile in my way, and sie settles down cross legged, managing to get hir purple, black, and red skirt to billow out and lay spread out in a circle around hir.

“I wanted to talk to you about Ptarmigan,” Chapman says.

“Good,” I reply.

“I don’t personally know her very well,” Chapman starts off. “Obviously, there are lots of people I know even less about or not at all. But as far as Artists go, I haven’t spent much time around her. Maybe an incarnation or two, but that’s not long enough to really get a sense of someone. And mostly, I know rumors and gossip. Did she tell you her Art?”

“Nightmares,” I say.

“Yeah. I think if she and I were to combine our Arts in a collaborative project, as she’s suggesting, we could create one of the worst storms this world has ever seen. If we wanted to. And I’m not necessarily talking about a weather system, though it might manifest that way.”

“Scary.”

“Yes.”

“Is Säure Artist?” I ask, deliberately trying to keep hir a little off balance.

Chapman sighs and says, “I certainly hope not. With what I’ve seen in the last two weeks, I’m having a hard time convincing myself he’s not a dragon, and we can’t even confirm that. If he’s a dragon and an Artist, that could be a difficult combination to confront. It would also suggest that the clumsy flailing of Equisetum Wildlife in trying to rehome dragons is a much more complex ploy that it looks like.”

“Am I Artist?”

Chapman shakes hir head, “I don’t think so. I could scan you, if you consent, to try to confirm it. But if you are an Artist and you’re hiding your nature, even subconsciously, I wouldn’t be able to tell. Still, I’m not sure which of my siblings you’d be, if you were. Besides the person I’ve gotten to know over the past two weeks, I don’t recognize you at all. Not in that way.”

“Something new?”

Sie squints at me, “Did Ptarmigan suggest that?”

“Someone did.”

“Ah, hm,” Chapman looks down at hir hands, which are in hir lap, fidgeting lightly. “It wouldn’t be unprecedented. During each of the Earth’s mass extinction events, and after, weird shit similar to dragons suddenly emerging, happened. Almost all evidence of such things has failed to make it into the fossil records. At least, not in any way that a human would recognize. There are more than a few such novel beings hiding around the planet. Sleeping, mostly. Sometimes participating in the chaos that is life here. They learn from us Artists and try to keep their work big, broad, and easily dismissable. Which is what we do most of the time. We keep learning that drawing attention to ourselves is a bad idea.” Sie looks off to the North. “Or, at least, some of us do.”

Chapman waits patiently as I type out my next question, “Am I center of dracomorphosis?”

Sie laughs, “I like that word. I don’t know. But if Ptarmigan says you are, she’s probably right and probably not lying. But whether you caused it or are just the locus of the event is the real question, I think.”

I have to say, I’m liking Chapman’s answers today. They feel more honest, more complete. Of course, if sie is an immortal being of unfathomable age like sie says sie is, then sie’s had all the time in the world to perfect the art of misdirection and lying.

And to think, just a couple days ago, I thought sie was just 5 years or so younger than me and there wasn’t much of an age gap. Not that, well, we’d be more than friends or QPPs eventually. And I’m still a little bewildered by my habit of being attracted more to humans (and human-like people) than to other dragons. But it feels inadvisable to develop any sort of intimate relationship with something that is maybe as old as the Earth, if you’re not.

I find myself worried about the power imbalance there.

On the other claw, I am attracted to Chapman still. Maybe even more so. And that’s throwing me for a loop. So I need to be extra careful with myself.

And in my mouth, I’m still chewing on Rhoda’s proclamation and advice, which Chapman definitely heard loud and clear.

We must work toward a state of the world where beings like Chapman and Ptarmigan or letting mortals manage their own affairs.

A very important question occurs to me and I don’t know if Chapman can answer it, but it needs to be asked.

“Are dragons immortal?” I ask.

Chapman rolls back, grabbing hir ankles through hir skirt and looks around, then says, leaning forward again, “As a class of beings, yes. Effectively. You’re so diverse and so archetypal, you’ll continue to exist long after the last species of life on Earth goes extinct, I imagine. But as individuals? That seems like a potentially bad idea, if you reproduce. If you’re immortal and you lay eggs like the stories suggest, you’ll all have to figure out a way to leave the planet one by one as you get older, so as not to crowd everyone else out. So, I’d say, probably not. Unless the Earth has something really nasty in store for all of us.”

“Is dracomorphosis new?”

“Eh, that’s hard to say. We didn’t have a word for dragons until humans coined it. So we didn’t recognize you as such until then. But I wouldn’t be surprised if you all weren’t somehow part of things like the Cambrian explosion, where life suddenly evolved at a rapid pace to fill in empty niches and develop new ones. Like, maybe the first of you were born during those times, as spiritual influences of evolution. And maybe your ancestors did manifest physically, without us noticing it. Life is beautifully complex. It’s easy to miss stuff like that if you don’t know to look for it.”

One more super important question that will give me a sense of who and what I’m working with, I think. I take my time to spell it all out, “Does Fairport matter?”

I waffled on adding “to you” on the end of that, but decided that the broader, more open ended question would get a more telling and honest answer, and…

“Yes,” sie says. “It matters as much as any other city on the planet right now. There’s the whole butterfly effect, which I’m sure you’ve heard about too many times to count, of course. Anything we do here on the front of maintaining and expanding human rights for anybody and everybody, human or dragon, is going to help shape the rest of the world. It’s a battle that must be fought, even if it isn’t a decisive one. But also, you matter, and Rhoda matters, and so do the Kims, Jill, Cerce, and Nathan, and everyone else who comes and goes in this building. You’re alive, for however little that might be, and that’s inherently unfair to you. Life is a cruel, bitter experience unless you work to make it otherwise. And every life that gets to experience safety and joy is important.”

I feel like I want to argue with that last bit, somehow, but I’m not sure in what way. Is it because I want to find a reason to distrust Chapman, or because I just disagree that if only some life finds joy and safety that makes the world better.

For instance, the fact that I was born to experience severe physical dysphoria and be bewildered by it for fifty years before accidentally finding relief, and very few other people were and don’t get that pain and the memory of it, seems inherently unjust in itself. And the fact that I do get the magical relief that I have, and other people don’t, that’s wrong, too. That makes the world worse, in my estimation. 

But before I can figure out how to say that, Chapman continues.

“I think we can trust Ptarmigan to be completely on board with that, by the way. She might be the Artist of Nightmares, but based on the name and presentation she’s chosen for this incarnation, here and now, unless she’s playing a truly nasty game, we can probably follow her lead, to some extent.”

What? I ask, “What?”

“She’s absolutely got her own agenda, and she deals with really nasty shit as her Art, but, I think –”

My tablet buzzes, and we both look at it. It’s a Discord notification. A direct message from Tannis, my neighbor to the East, whom I used to call Loreena.

I feel the shift of Chapman doing a scan, and trust that sie isn’t scanning me. Ptarmigan seemed to think I could only sense when Arts were used on me, but I’m pretty sure I can sense their use in proximity to me as well.

In some stories, dragons can perform magic as well as any human wizard. Sometimes we’re the source of magic. But is Chapman’s Art magic?

“You’ll want to answer that,” sie says.

I huff and open Discord and then touch Tannis’ account icon, labeled with the username siren_of_the_woods.

She wrote, “Five dragons meet at the observation tower of the Fairport Arboretum: myself, Astraia, Joel, Wentin, and Brenna. We humbly request an audience with Your Highness here, at your earliest convenience. Thank you.”

At the immediate sight of the phrase “five dragons” I think it’s a trap. A terrifying proposition, in any case. And addressing me as “Your Highness” feels like sarcasm, and I don’t like it. I haven’t yet changed the name of the Discord server, but I’ve made a post in there about how I don’t really think of myself as queen. But Astraia is there, and though I’ve only seen her in person once, I want to think of her as an ally and friend, and…

“Go,” Chapman says. “You will go to this meeting either way, now or a little later, and you need to know what they are up to anyway. Going now is better.”

I look up at hir.

“I’ll message Ptarmigan and we’ll both back you up. We might take a while to get there in person, against your flight. But we don’t need to be to reach you with our Arts,” sie says. “But, I don’t think you’ll need our help there. They’re all members of your server, they’re friendly to you. Focus on that and you won’t feel obliged to fight them.”

I look down at the tablet and hit the thumbs up icon, then shift over to my AAC app and say, “How you know?”

“You felt me scan, right?” sie asks.

“Yes.”

“Near future possibilities. It told me enough to extrapolate that,” Chapman says. “Combined with how much I know about your current situation already, how you manage your instincts, and my experience as an Artist, I’d call it a very well educated guess.”

“Okay.”

“I also wouldn’t doddle any longer talking to me. I’ll see my way out.”

One more question, not actually as out of the blue as it sounds, “Is Salish Raven Artist?”

Chapman sighs, “I don’t know. It’s been known to happen, but this world is gorgeously complex and we’re just a small part of it. Don’t go seeing us where we might not be. But do go. Please. Hurry.”

I turn my tablet off, put it in my purse, and leave.

I hear Chapman call after me, “Take care!”

I’m getting a little tired of things happening, you know?

On the way to the meeting of Southside dragons, I find myself thinking about how I should look up the cultural significance of ptarmigans. The bird. To see if there’s any meaning there that Ptarmigan herself is trying to draw upon, or that maybe she’s created. Chapman just said not to see Artists where they might not be, but I think Ptarmigan might be there.

I also wanted to ask why the two of them seem to fight or argue so easily, but I can imagine either of them replying, “Because we’re siblings.”

There’s never enough time to say everything.

And, I think I’ve said this before, but it always hits me that back when I could talk just like a human, I hardly ever said anything.

What are we going to do at this meeting? Talk? Probably.

But what about Joel? I know he really needs a huge keyboard, or something really creative, to let him talk in any kind of verbal capacity. Yes or no questions work for him just fine, but in a meeting like this? I’d imagine he’d feel left behind and left out all too easily.

Even when I’m given time to be reasonably articulate, that’s how I feel around anyone who talks with their larynx. Especially in a group.

How thought out is this meeting? It seems rushed and possibly desperate. Especially with how I was notified at the last minute.

Oh.

Maybe I’m being called there to solve a problem, such as communicating with Joel.

I hope not. I don’t feel prepared.

But, of course, Tannis didn’t say that’s what they all needed. They wanted “an audience.”

They’re going to tell me something, or ask me something, if it’s not an ambush.

And, for some reason, not on the Discord server.

And that’s about all the time I have to think about this, because I’m already descending to the park clearing where the observation tower is.

And I’m about to meet three of these dragons in person for the first time.

On the north face of the hill that constitutes the Fairport Arboretum, which is a hill covered in trees and trails, there is a paved lot with a log tower in it. It’s not quite at the top of the hill. That space is reserved for a radio array for the college radio station, and probably a couple other purposes.

As I glide in on the mid day thermals, I see them in a circle in the space in front of the tower. And there are some humans standing beside a few of the dragons. Caleb, Astraia’s boyfriend, is there.

There’s also a family huddled at the top of the tower, watching, children half hiding behind their parents.

So it’s not exactly a private meeting. It’s a very public spot, and park goers and students cutting across the arboretum can be expected to stumble upon it at any time.

But, I wonder if the family in the tower were there unexpectedly, or if they’re keeping an eye out for approaching dragons, because they do point at me, and then I see one of them typing into their phone.

Joel is one of the humanless dragons, and he yawps almost cheerfully and backs up well before I come near for my landing.

Astraia greets me with a series of poinks, and I think I can guess who the others are based on conversations in the Discord.

Brenna would be the one accompanied by a light skinned man in a straw hat, graying brown beard, and blond ponytail. Also partners, like Astraia and Caleb, only older and married with kids. Brenna looks like a really big wolf, like the Gmork from the Neverending Story, only with antlers, huge chicken feet, and her fur seems to be downy feathers. Her tail has spikes hidden in the fluff. Many scholars wouldn’t dare call her a dragon, but I know better.

These are all of the type of dragon that’s older than the word itself. The ones that got called dragons by the speakers of the word after their facts. I’m more of a classic renaissance dragon. Or one from modern fantasy. I feel almost fake here. Out of place.

And Tannis, I’m certain, is the one with the head of an eagle, the upper torso of a woman attached to where the neck would go on the body of a bear with bat wings, and a tail that looks like an octopus arm. She also has a human with her. A woman with dark skin and locs, dressed in neon pink and blue athletic gear.

Which leaves Wentin. A dragon with a “W” name that I didn’t give it. I know its pronouns because it had given them and its name on the server. Username eat_you, I’m pretty certain it’s the dragon I had nicknamed Theremin, because it can sound exactly like one. Spooky as shit if it’s the only thing making noise in the middle of the night.

Wentin is without a human and looks like a dire lion with a head that’s just a mix of all sorts of things. Its snout is as long, broad, and bulbous as that of a deinosuchus, but with lips and covered with that lion-like fur. Its eyes are forward facing and lidded, as expressive as any mammal’s, with enough cranium behind them to hold a sizeable brain. But its ears are a classic spiny finned dragon’s ears. And it has a dark brown mane of quills.

Wentin is big. Phenomenally big in comparison to the rest of us. And as I land it grins to show off its shark teeth, then opens its mouth to say, in a whiny, creaky voice, obviously using a syrinx way more expertly than I can, “Hello, Queen Meghan. Welcome to my territory. It is so good to see you in person.”

There’s no way that Wentin could fit in a building or a house. A garage, maybe, if there was no hoard in it. And I’ve no clue what it’s been eating.

I think that if none of the other dragons are fighting with each other right now, it’s because Wentin doesn’t want it. But maybe we’re all actually more reasonable than that, now that we’ve gotten used to ourselves.

I flap my wings a few more times as I stretch my legs on the ground, then settle down in the spot Joel made for me, opposite of Astraia, with Wentin directly to my left. I feel like I could fit neatly into Wentin’s mouth, but I know I’m not quite that small.

“Yes,” I say, and then make to pull out my tablet and put it on the ground in front of me. I press, “Hello.”

Tannis has hands and is holding her phone. I can see bullet scars on her upper torso, and bite scars all over her shoulders, all six of them. Far more healed than I’d expect for such a short time since her fight with Astraia. Like the rest of us, she doesn’t bother to wear clothes.

Astraia’s haunches are definitely doing better, but those huge claw marks, which definitely came from Tannis, don’t look like they’ll ever fade, let alone heal flush with her skin. They’re red, with a thin layer of scar tissued skin growing in them. Astraia seems completely unbothered by them otherwise. A shiny new tablet that’s twice as big as mine is on the ground in front of her, like the way I like to work. She’ll be typing with three of her eight snouts, of course.

Joel’s pretty much how I last left him.

Brenna, who is the second biggest dragon there, sits on her haunches and looks at her partner, Ian. Either she’s the one I named Caterwall, or she’s from outside the range of my morning song.

Ian addresses me to say, “I speak for Brenna. I am her voice here. I’d do the same for Joel if I could, but we don’t have that connection.”

Joel garumphs.

“Joel speaks for himself,��� Wentin croaks gleefully.

I look at Joel and he glances at me and twitches his ear.

Yeah. OK.

I feel like my body has short circuited with so many dragons in one place, and with me sitting so close to the monster that is Wentin. All control has been left to the me that rides this crazy thing. I am shaky and unsettled, and yet also so, so calm.

I breathe in as I type, “I am here. Thank you all.” As much politeness as I can muster seems in order, but expedience still reigns. I am starting to really hate it. And now I’m finding myself intensely jealous of Wentin.

With my extra wide field of vision, it’s pretty easy for me to keep an eye on Joel while talking to the others, and so far, besides that ear twitch, he seems fairly relaxed. He’s bothered by his lack of voice, but isn’t showing it.

Astraia speaks, doing her hydra ballet for typing, four eyes on us, four on the screen, a snout to hold the tablet down, and three to speak, “Thank you for coming. We’ve encountered a problem you should know about.”

Tannis completes her thought, “There is at least one dragon who is allied with Säure.”

[bongcipher]

concept art for a human-ish bill cipher, yap session about his design and the art under the cut!!!

this was a very experimental piece, wanted to try and see if i could replicate a painterly style, also attempted to do more textured and dreamy stuff in here. ik its very messy, but i just like getting things done fast. anyways this is supposed to be like a frame in a sequence where bill appears in someones dreams, whoever you think it is is up to you, maybe its ford, maybe its a stranger- who knows!

i have. So Many ideas for a human bill, and i mean SO MANY!!!! if i added all those conceptd to just 1 design it'd just end up being a cluttered mess with ideas lost in translation, not good! i also happened to like a lot of these ideas with some of them branching out to a pretty clear concept. so ive made the decision that he has 3 forms (they also represent diff gender presentations because i wanna project my dreams onto him :,]) that he chooses whenever he feels like it. otherwise ill just recycle some of my unused ideas for specific au designs. <- theres an idea in the back of my head that when bill gets reincarnated into a human for being a good boy in theraprism, he turns into just...the most Average looking person you'd find in oregon. he doesnt look special or unique, he looks very generic, and it hurts him and everyone around him very much.

this bill is the least human out of all of the 3 im planning for, might even make him less human than he appears in here because shaping him like a vaguely human-shaped star seems fun. bills supposed to be very dream-like in here, he's laying under a blanket of clouds and a pillow. bills shape is supposed to be sorta vague in my mind, this blanket of clouds drape him like its his hair and clothes. hes supposed to not have a clear/defining silhouette amongst the clouds because its like a dream, blurry. fun fact: every step he takes he generates clouds, yk how in chinese mythology dragons move by clinging onto clouds? its a lot like that. theres some vague inspo of the dragon characters from one piece because i love that manga too much ksjdiss!!!

this bill is pretty focused in on the dream/god aspect of him, every bill focuses on a different way he presents himself. ones a party host and the other is uhhh something else ill think of, a demon i guess?

[nero1forte]

persona 3 music headcanons

(yay)

i’m taking in the time period the game takes place. (2009-2010ish) also. idk what type of music was popular in japan, so i’m just going off of western music :^)

Makoto

Ok. so i might be projecting a bit on this one, but he listens to early 2000’s emo/grunge/rock music.

A few bands i’m specifically thinking: mcr, deftones (i know im sorry but cmon), green day, maybeee the cure idk

He’ll really listen to anything though. if he doesn’t like something that’s put on he won’t say anything to the person. just. internalize how much he hates it

Makoto also listens to instrumentals. he likes to turn his brain off and do stuff around the dorm or just sit in his room. songs with lyrics sometimes are too overwhelming in those specific instances

Junpei

Junpei definitely listens to bands like Linkin Park and The Offspring. Maybeeee some rap here and there too

“SHAWTYS LIKE A MELODY IN MY HEAD” (thinks of Chidori when he listens to that song)

He def has “concerts” in his room where he blasts his music and sings obnoxiously loud

I feel like he’d also secretly like some pop music, but he’d never admit it

Yukari

She listens to whatever’s popular at the moment but she definitely has some favorite bands/artists

Mainly listens to female artists (P!NK? maybe avril lavigne)

Lovesss pop music and love songs (Junpei teases her for liking love songs and it makes her SO MAD)

Aigis

Aigis doesn’t really care what music is playing. But she has a tendency to… over explain things about the music.

Will give unnecessary info about the artist that is currently playing

She’ll also try to find songs she thinks the others will like based on the stuff they play around her

Shes basically like the DJ thing on spotify

Fuuka

I can see Fuuka liking music with lots of different instruments. But also liking softer songs (idk if she’d listen to this band but my first thought was songs like Never Shout Never makes)

Prefers live recordings and acoustic versions of songs

She usually lets the others pick out music when they’re listening together and generally likes anything (unless it’s super heavy)

Her and Yukari like a lot of the same music. Junpei also tries to get her to listen to more rock

Akihiko

Aki doesn’t really listen to music… He either does things in silence or turns the radio on a random station

He goes to Power Records and buys CDs based on the cover art

If someone plays a song and he likes how it sounds, he’ll awkwardly go up to them and ask them what the song is called

Mitsuru

Mitsuru is a bit hard to place for me. But I feel like she would mainly listen to classical music (on the rare occasions she does listen to music)

She doesn’t have CDs, a radio or an MP3 player. But she definitely has a record player and collects records

Like Fuuka, she’ll usually let the underclassmen pick out music to play and some of the lyrics make her question the things they’re into…

Shinji

Shinji listens to very very very underground stuff. (can’t decide if he would listen to 90s rock or not.)

He tried to show his music to Aki ONE TIME. Aki immediately hated it

No specific bands or songs rlly come to mind

I imagine the stuff he likes is … very hard to listen to :)

He also hates pop music with a passion

Kotone

She’s like a mix of Yukari and Makoto

The type of person to listen to anything… ANYTHING. and most likely enjoy it

Kotone is also one of the only people who actually likes Shinjis obscure ass music

Ken

Ken. Idk.

He seems like the type to not really care about music honestly

Just. Listens to whatever the others put on without much objection

[acolorboom]

Your art is so so pretty, can I ask more about the neglected space AU?

I am so so intrigued if you have anything you wanna share, please just ramble at me :D

Thank you dear anon for the ask! I guess it’s time to explain it??

(Loooong rant below, tw for character death I guess?)

So it all started roughly around the end of 2022, and I at that time decided to re-listen to the song by Imogen Heap, and your guy got INSPIRED.

The song itself is supposed to be from the pov of an abandoned house, and at that time I was watching Tango build Decked Out Two, (specifically the Deepfrost Citadel), and the parallels between the empty halls of the house portrayed in the song with the cold and dark tunnels of DO2 kind of clicked in my head.

And then I saw a post on here (don’t remember who it was from unfortunately) that talked about Jimmy and some other people from (@ the time, Empires s2) accidentally getting stuck in the tunnels of Decked out and Tango helping to guide them through it, falling in love with Jimmy in the process, but the two of them end up going separate ways in the end.

I read the post, and then it resurfaced in my head while I was looping Neglected Space, and it kind of spiraled from there-

So, I started concocting my own version of that idea.

Tango was part of an expedition that has the mission of exploring a system of recently-discovered frozen underground caverns. Unfortunately, due to circumstances, Tango was the only survivor, who was now imprisoned in the tunnels with no way of escaping.

The main events happen after several years of Tango living in the Citadel, and by that point he’s not the same person who entered it. He follows a path of odd footprints that lead him to an injured avian (Jimmy) who it turns out, got in by accident and injured his wings, making him incapable of flying and leaving him stranded.

The two at first have some friction due to Tango’s disheveled appearance and the fact of him not speaking to another person in a very long time, but eventually realize that they kind of need each other to survive, and becoming friends.

One night they are talking while making dinner and Jimmy asks Tango about what happened to him, and Tango tells him everything, from the gradual loss of his friends and contact to the outside world to the sheer loneliness of that place.

Jimmy listens and after gives him a goat horn in case they ever loose each other in the tunnels, along with a feather. Tango doesn’t know what the feather means, but accepts it regardless.

Time passes and eventually Tango is lead by a soul of someone who didn’t survive the Citadel towards a Nether portal. At first Tango hesitates about telling Jimmy about it, due to fearing that they might never see each other again.

Tango, after some thought, decides to tell Jimmy about the portal and the two make plans to escape.

(There’s a kiss in there somewhere fshshsh)

I’m torn between giving this AU a happy or sad ending, one where Tango goes with Jimmy and the other where he stays behind to continue to oversee the tunnels (I’ll decide it eventually lol)

As for Etho, he was part of Tango’s research group and the last to die. He probably dragged away by a ravager while gathering resources and Tango finds his coat later.

Him and Tango had a lot of unspoken feelings towards each other and I’m still figuring out how it will tie into the story. Maybe it’s gonna create conflict between Tango and Jimmy? Hmmm

Anyways that’s all I have so far

Im very bad at keepup with my projects so don’t expect anything major, but enjoy some of the earliest concepts I found :D (circa dec. 2022)

[elvenbeard]

WIP WEDNESDAY

Yes I'm actually doing this on a Wednesday wooo :D

I just went back through all my tags of the last month and man, you guys ;__; <3 I'm not good at keeping up with tumblr atm and I don't have something to share every week, so I think once a month a WIP Wednesday might be a good compromise XD Thank you for all the tags!!

@theviridianbunny @dreamskug @ouroboros-hideout @lokiina @therealnightcity @chevvy-yates tagging you all right back!

So, with that off of my list of works in progress, as is answering all the tag games and quizzes, some projects I'm working on atm:

Writing: Love is stored in the olive jar (WT) - Chapter 13

It's done, but still needs a lot of editing, as it got very heavy on dialogue in the end and I want it all to flow more nicely and make it a bit more scenic XD Too many instances of "she looked up again" or "he paused for a moment/second" xD But I'm getting there! Here's a snippet from the already somewhat polished beginning:

“Alright,” Fuentes said as she finally caught her breath again, “I suggest we cut straight to the chase.” “Yes,” V nodded, “Thank you again for taking the time.” “Of course,” Fuentes nodded, “I have to admit, I have been thinking about you and your case a lot these past days. Even with the limited knowledge I have so far, I still believe I may be able to help. If you are willing now to tell me more about your condition now, of course.” ‘Willing’ wasn’t the word V would use, it was more a necessity at this point. “I will,” he said, “But only if you can provide me with a certain level of security.” Fuentes shifted in her chair slightly and frowned, then she opened one of the drawers of her desk and pulled out a tablet. She turned it on and began to search for something on it while maintaining eye contact with V as best as she managed. “You’ve come here today as my patient. As far as I’m concerned, everything, anything that we discuss, falls under the doctor-patient confidentiality. My contract with the Little China MedCenter binds me to treat your data and information with utmost care and discretion. All data we store is locked away securely, all in accordance with your Trauma Team policy. I can resend you the patient information papers and contracts, although I think most of them you should already have…” “I care less about the MedCenter than about what you personally do with the information I’m going to give you,” V said, and Fuentes stopped her search, narrowing her eyes slightly. “I’m not sure what you’re alluding to,” she said, still polite, but significantly more tense than before. “Nothing,” V shook his head carefully, “This is just not something I tell random strangers on the street… no offense, of course. If I have to play with open cards, I need you to as well.”

In which Vince hates doctors but has to trust one now, boo XD

Writing: Some drabbles :3

Inbetween the longfic I still have some ask prompt drabbles to fill that I'm looking forward to tackling soon! And in a sudden burst of inspiration I wrote out a long although not very serious convo between Vince and Johnny the other day xD I'd love to turn it into a (VP) comic maybe, but I'm not sure yet XD

Art: Nothing new since last time, slowly chipping away at some bigger projects inbetween

VP: Currently no concrete plans for a bigger project

Although I wanna do more "days in the life" for Vince!! And I wanna play around more with some poses though and have a very soft set to share that I gotta edit a bit still ;_; Tomorrow probably!

Also, I'd like to turn the interface thingies from my recent "V as NPC" projects into shareable templates, that is also on my wip/ to-do list! Just wanna gather some in-game reference shots first :D

Modding: 👀👀👀

I'm working on a little something maybe, and I'm so excited :DDD Just gotta relearn how to do Archive XL, it's been half a year xD And I fought MLSetup Builder so fucking hard, but now I know how to edit MLMask Setups, so that's a victory at least XD And I have a base for a very kitschy coat :3

But yes, so much to that so far! See you again in a month or so probably with an ever-growing pile of wips xD But maybe some more writing, maybe some more art, and maybe a finished mod after too long 👀

[meanbossart]

hi. I'm a huge fan of your work. I've been following you since before sad sack even came out. I was around for the very first teasers of it. I am very young... definitely i was too young to be reading sad sack when I was. but I'm an adult now so whatever, harm done. I'm a novelist. you are really one of my greatest artistic inspirations.

I guess my question that I want to say is... how do you finish stories? I have a million started but I always get this horrible voice in my head telling me that it's not worth it to finish, that the next project I do will be better, but I know I'm at the point in my journey where I need to just get something done. how do you do it? do I just need time? do I need to get a little older? do I need to keep failing until I succeed?

thank you so much for everything that you've done, your art brings me so much joy and comfort. many, many times your comics have made me feel like I wasn't alone. please keep doing what you're doing, because I love it, just for me lol.

Hey! This has sat in my inbox for a while i know, to be completely honest it just never feels great to know someone was exposed to my adult work before they should have been, and it can feel like im walking a tenuous line in acknowledging that it happens and not... Doing something about it? Though im not sure what that something would be. I will take your word for it that you are an adult now and as you said, the harm was already done. Im not happy about it but nothing can be done about it now i guess.

I do sincerely appreciate your kind words about mine and Nick's work and I'm glad it's brought you joy, and i hope you were always able to enjoy it with a critical eye too.

As for your question, there is truly no easy answer there or A to B guide that will get you past this hurdle - some people work on years and years on the same thing before releasing it, other's just pump their first work to get it out of the way and while it may not be great, at least its done. Regardless, once you get one thing finished, you will come to realize that its easy to finish others, too. I think regardless of what you do though, you will never look back on your very first work and be happy with it, so its my personal opinion that while you should do your best, you should make peace with the fact that it will not be your best, and that's okay.

As for what I would personally do? Pick something, something short, and something fresh, dont start with that massive story you've been workshopping for 15 years. Start with something you can whip up in a year at the VERY most, something you are currently passionate about, something that interests you right this second. Draft it as quick as you can so you know how it starts and how it ends, and then set yourself up with a schedule to finish it - you don't have to abide by it 100%, but if you give yourself all the time in the world to work on it, you might end up taking up your own offer. If you have a deadline, even if made up, you will have to force yourself to move on when you come across something you aren't entirely happy with instead of becoming stuck on it for days, frustrated, and then proceeding to abandon it as you might have done before. I repeat - you will never be entirely happy with how your first work turns out. So focus on being passionate, proud, and absolutely committed to making it happen at all, instead.

I hope this has helped you at all, im both sorry that you ended up looking at our nasty stuff before you should have and also, again, genuinely glad you find inspiration in it now as a grown person. I wish you the best of luck in your journey as a creator!

[pbandjesse]

I am really nauseous all of a sudden but I am sipping water and I hope that it passes.

Today was a really good day though!! I had been so worried and anxious but it ended up being just such a good day. And like yesterday when I was feeling so anxious I knew logically it would all be okay. But it was still tough to feel so stressed.

When I got home last night I had to tell James all of my big feelings. And it made me feel better and now I am not as frazzled about feeling inadequate. I would even reach out to Jules today and she said I was a star of a person and it was great. Called us sunshine girls.

I didn't sleep very good though. For how long of a day I had, I had really hoped to sleep well. But baby was lucky. Absolutely not. Every time I turned over I had to pee so stupidly bad. I am excited that I am feeling her more often. It's like rubber bands being plucked. But still. Would like to sleep!!

I set my alarm for 930. But even though didn't feel like enough sleep and I felt pretty bad when I got up. James was sitting on the floor and came and hugged me. They had already gone on a bike ride and done a bunch of stuff in the house. Busy bee.

I went and washed my hair and trimmed my bangs. Which made me feel a lot better. My hair has been bothering me so bad so this was good. I would even get compliments later on. Excellent.

I would sort of make some plans for the morning before my awah class. James had already gotten my folding table out. So I only had to pull out some supplies. No rush there. Instead I spent an hour eating breakfast, cutting my cuticles, and picking outfits for the week.

When I did finally make it downstairs I got those few materials out. And decided to use the hour I had to finish the bears I had sewn yesterday. I got all their eyes placed and arms stuffed and sewed. And since I still had time I sat in the basement and got them all stuffed. I felt so productive. I would sew them closed later in the day.

James was upstairs painting. And I love the green. I also love that we are painting the bookshelves to match. I think that was absolutely the correct call.

I went upstairs to see the progress and gave James a smooch before I headed to class.

And it was a really good class. Though it started stressful!

When I got there I couldn't find our class bag! No lesson, no nothing. I spent about ten minutes walking around the offices checking all the bags but I couldn't find them. I texted Sophia and was like. What should I do?? Cause like I'm perfectly competent to create a lesson on the fly. But also I didn't want to pull materials if that wasn't okay.

But when she didn't get back to me by 1245 I just had to make the call. And decided we would make cards. Fall/holiday/thankful cards. With collage and pastels. And this went so well. Everyone seemed to love it. I loved it. And when Sophia got back to me she apologized for the confusion and thanked me for being able to pivot.

The teen class was good. Naomi (student) was very funny when she thought that Kelly didn't have a leg (she was sitting on it) because she had crutches. And that lead to conversation about my dad not having a leg. Which the teens thought was fascinating.

Xavier was very sweet to. Last week his mom told Mary Ellen that he loves our class because he can be himself and doesn't have to pretend like at school. And this week I would make an extra point to hang out with and help him cut some pieces for his mistletoe collage. And at the end he very clearly didn't want to leave. He's moving to Virginia for a bit. And might not be able to come back for our next session. And he seemed slightly emotional, in his way. It was very sweet.

The adult class went really well. We basically had a full house. And they really liked this project. I learned that it you give Brian more dark green he will make more art. Turns out it's his favorite color, this is now the second fully green project he made! And I learned that Dan Taylor really loves collage. He made multiple cards and he even took my gift of extra collage paper at the end. He was also wearing a very snappy cobalt blue suit today. Very fashionable.

I also also found out that his mom is a post partum doula! I got her contact info. I have thought about having someone come through after birth to help, like a night nurse or something. So this is great because I already know her.

We would get everything cleaned up. Wished everyone Happy holidays and reminded them when our next session starts. And then we were off. A students mom gifted me and Naomi subway gift cards! And Mary Ellen had flowers for us. It was so sweet. Everyone wished me luck on being pregnant and hoped to see me more in the spring. And then we were off.

I was anxious about getting back home for my private lesson. Which started at 330. I would get home at 315. Stress!

But it ended up being such a lovely couple hours. Rosalie was such a sweetheart. Her parents came along but would leave us until 530. James would also head out to bike to federal hill and see the sun set. And we just worked.

She brought her own sewing machine which was slightly fancy and it took me a few minutes to figure out. It also has a strange presser foot and since I had some extras.of the standard door I switched that out and let them keep that one.

I was worried about making this totebags in two hours. But it was legitimately perfectly timed. Within 30 seconds of us finishing her parents were back! It was incredible timing honestly. But the whole two hours went so well.

We walked through the whole machine. Loading the thread and the bobbin. I had her use pinking sheets to cut some canvas for a lining, and then regular fabric scissors for the heavy cotton she chose. We sewed each side like a pillow case and the. Those two together. I also showed her how to do a ladder stitch to close the parts we had to leave open to flip. And it came out so super nice!

We finished the straps. We actually used the iron to press the folds. I tried to do everything as close to by the books as I could, but I also explained that this isn't necessary the best or only way, that this is just one way. And we didn't even actually use a pattern. And using a pattern would be different for sure. Plus the next bag wouldn't take two hours, because now she had practice.

When her parents came back we chatted for a minute. And they paid me. And thanked me. And then they were off. I wished them a happy holiday and a safe drive home.

I went to find James who was in the living room and I was just like. Ah! That went so well! And they were very encouraging.

They would run back out to get pasta to make us for dinner. Picked up some donuts too. Which ended up being cinnamon buns that they put chocolate frosting on but they were very good still.

While James was making the pasta I was working on finishing those bears. And once I was done that I started working on designing my new market sign. I wanted something smaller, more straightforward, and had a place for my business cards.

This small folding song was pretty perfect. For some reason my chalk markers did not show up at all though and I was pretty disappointed. So I had to pivot. I would cut some wood to make a little box shelf for my cards. I painted it so it would match. And then wrote out my sign on paper and just glued that on. I think it looks really good! I want to add some of my stickers but they were in the car so I'll do that later on.

James brought dinner to the studio and we ate together. And once we were done they were laying on the ground with sweetp. And I was slowly glueing letter beads to my sign. It was a nice night.

My back started hurting from sitting at my desk. James went to play a video game and I came upstairs to lay down. James would join me and we watched TikToks for a long time. But eventually they fell asleep and I went to take a shower.

When I came back from the shower James was sitting on the side of the bed and I teased them about falling asleep and talking in their sleep. They called me their little tiny wife. Despite being round.

James is back to sleep now. And I am ready to lay down and rest. Tomorrow we have an ultrasound. I'm excited to see baby. I am hoping we can get a 3D image but it's okay if not. I am just happy to see her at all.

I hope you all have a good sleep, and a good day tomorrow. I love you all. Goodnight!!