#people complimenting my art is always the last thing i expect

[crystallizsch]

Hello! I would like to say that your art my favorite in the entire fandom, I don't know how to describe it but it just feels the best 💃 The way you draw the characters is very nice, Jamil is one of my favorites and you have his personality captured very nicely! Anyway, I hope you have a good day and I hope a lifetime supply of your favorite food drops from the sky for you 🤸‍♀️

AAHH THIS IS MAKING ME CRYYY ANON

i've never received a compliment about my art like this before so that's such an honor to hear 😭💕💕

THANK YOU SO MUCH I WISH YOU ALL THE BEST (*chucks this out here as another thanks*)

[sweetteainthesummerx]

☄. *. ⋆ mine ⋆ . * . ☄

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

nhl masterlist !

pairing: nico hischier x eldest daughter!reader

warnings: angst and comfort, sex is mentioned, but not too graphic!! fluff and happy ending

song: mine by taylor swift

summary: you've had to fight for yourself and everyone your whole life, now you have nico to fight for you.

word count: 2.5 k

notes: UGH nico my love!! this is for all of the eldest daughters who deserve the world :) hope you enjoy!

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

i was a flight risk, with a fear of fallin', wondering why we bother with love, if it never lasts

it's during one of your first dates with nico when you realize this boy is special.

you don't do relationships. you're sensible enough to know that romance isn't like how it's portrayed in media because even if there is love between two people, there will always be hesitations and complications.

complications that you do not need, not when your job keeps you busy and you have your family to think of.

there's another reason though, one you don't like to think much of as a reason for your aversion to vulnerability.

you grew up with an absent father and a mother who cared too much. your perception of love had been thrown out the window, stomped on and ran over.

so when you meet nico at a bar and he asks for your number, you don't expect it to progress anywhere.

but he's so handsome, all dimples and foreign accent as he buys you a drink and tells you that you're pretty.

three dates in, he's got you wrapped up in his arms between his legs on his bed.

he's warm, broad chest under your back. you snuggle closer, pressing the tops of your cold feet into his calves. he dips his face into your shoulder and smiles.

the notebook is playing on the tv facing his bed as he fiddles with your fingers. you told him it was your favourite last week when he took you out to an art museum. you didn't expect him to remember.

you cannot believe this man. he's made you cum three times, once with his mouth, another with his fingers and the last with his cock.

and then he drew you a bath and dried your hair for you.

when you ask him why, he puffs out his chest awkwardly, scratching one of his big bicep and tells you he really likes you and he wants to take care of you.

who does that in this day and age?

he had texted you earlier to see if you were free for dinner. you expected mediocre food and then sex.

maybe a few minutes of cuddling before you left his apartment, but he's breathing in the smell of his shampoo on your hair, holding you like it's the only thing he wants to do on a saturday night, after he had you writhing in his sheets for nearly an hour.

you want to run, because he makes you speechless and your mouth dries up with how sweet he is. you're not used to being taken care of, as sad as it sounds.

normally you would be halfway back to your apartment if had been anyone else.

but this time, something tells you to stick around because you have a premonition that even if you do get hurt, nico hischier is going to be worth it.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

we're takin' on the world together, and there's a drawer of my things at your place

"hey, handsome." your boyfriend of a month comes up from behind you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a kiss into your hair.

he asks you to be his girlfriend during a morning walk in the park, eyes earnest. you say yes eagerly, because you don't know if there's something so different about him, but he makes you so deliriously happy.

so after a week or two of dancing around each other and no labels, he makes you his with a sweet, long kiss next to the flowers that are starting to bloom in the damp spring air.

now you're in his kitchen, words coming easy to you again. you tell him he looks handsome with his wet hair and week-old beard.

he flushes like he always does when you compliment him.

cute, you think.

you turn from the overnight oats you're making for him to kiss him properly. he nips your lip and you laugh.

"I have something for you, schatz ." the pet name makes you weak in the knees, and you're glad he has you pinned against the counter.

he slips a key into your fingers.

your heart drops to your stomach, and it bounces back up.

"really?" you ask, and he shrugs, oddly shy and pink.

"you're here so much, and I want you around more. it doesn't make since to drive all the way to your apartment when it's dark."

you swoon; does he even know the effect he has on you?

soon, half of his closet is full of your clothes, your pink toothbrush has a spot next to his and your girly products he has no idea how to use are scattered on his counter.

he buys you a nightstand for your side of the bed, and it has a picture of the two of you on it.

you wonder if it's too early in the relationship for something like this, but nico tells you he doesn't care.

he just wants you. you want to cry, because no one has ever just wanted you, with all of your complications and busy schedule.

he cuddles you to sleep and tells you that the two of you can take on the world together, and the first time in a while, you feel content and steady.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

you learn my secrets and you figure out why I'm guarded, you say we'll never make my parents' mistakes

you don't think of your father often. he left when you were 13, when you were young enough to be ridden with emotion and the feelings of inadequacies because why didn't he want you?

but you were also old enough to take care of your four younger siblings as your mother took to bed, her own problems boiling up.

sure, he kept up with birthdays and holidays by sending money instead of well wishes, but you wanted him to be present.

the last you saw of him was at your high school graduation a few years ago. you've given up since then, because he's remarried and has step-kids he treats the way he should've treated you and your siblings.

your mother has moved on. she's dating again and you like seeing the flushed glow on her cheeks over facetime as she tells you about some math teacher that took her out to an Italian restaurant.

your youngest brother, the runt of your family, your sisters always joke, is finally 18 this year.

they can all fend for themselves and you are just you.

sure, they still call you up every few weeks with something trivial, but you are no longer just the oldest of four, or the reliable daughter your mother counted on for everything.

and nico reminds you of this all the time when you start to worry and get in over your head.

you're happy and carefree. you go out with nico and his team mates who gag when the two of you kiss, and laugh at your jokes.

nico takes you on dates, and lets you try and cook swiss dishes on his days off.

your mind is clear of your father, until he calls you on a wednesday night.

nico is fast asleep beside you, and you have to wiggle out of his embrace to reach for your phone.

"hello?" you ask groggily. you don't check the caller id, but you wish you had when your father says your name enthusiastically into the phone.

you want to throw up. what does he want?

"listen, kid. I know I don't call enough, but Johnny is a huge hockey fan. I was wondering if there is anyway that you could get tickets since your boyfriend plays for the devils?"

"how did you find out-" you asked, half-shocked he still has your number saved, and half-shocked at the sheer audacity he has to ask you for a favour for one of his step-sons.

"I saw on the news, kid. now, I would really appreciate if you could do this for your father-"

you want to berate him. if he has the time to read those useless gossip pages, why hasn't he come to see you or even called just because?

you don't even realize nico is awake, but he takes the phone from you.

"excuse me, sir, but your daughter has an early day tomorrow. she needs to go. she'll call you back, if she wants."

he hangs up and turns to you, eyes soft in the light of the lamp he turns on to see you better.

"oh, schatz," he sighs, pulling you into his lap and wiping you tear-wet face.

you're sobbing, but you need to stop. he doesn't need to see you like this, not when this was the behaviour that made your dad leave your mom.

he pulls at your fingers that are stifling your cries and kisses each one of them delicately, "let it out, liebling."

he hates that you think he's going to leave you. he hates what your father has done to the way you think, and he hates that your hurting.

seeing you cry makes something primal and angry stir in his chest, because you deserve all of the good things in the world and more.

it frustrates him that there is nothing for him to do, no one to punch - well, maybe your dad - and all he can do is be there for you.

between the conversations about why you're so guarded and the way you pull back whenever your relationship progresses with him, he knows.

he knows your scared, but he's so determined to make you see that he's so willing to do anything for you, and your future.

"I promise you," he whispers when you calm, only hiccuping slightly, "we will never make your parents' mistakes."

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

i ran out, crying, and you followed me out into the street...braced myself for the goodbye...then you took me by surprise, you said, "I'll never leave you alone"

"why didn't you talk to me about this before hand?" he huffs, setting down his mug.

you can feel something jittery and hot floating a milimeter above your skin, incasing you in the want to retract, to leave.

your stomach is empty and you want to vomit. you can't look at him, not with frustration on the tip of your tongue.

"I didn't think you needed a say in my career!" you exclaim, and the hurt on his face makes it hard to breathe.

"I would like to know what's going on with my girlfriend, especially if she has to travel every month for work!" he rubs his temples, "we hardly see each other as is-"

"I need to support myself! I would love to quit and be a trophy wife, but forgive me for needing financial independence in case you leave me!"

you scream that last part, and tears are starting to sprout in your eyes. this is so stupid, but there is no part of you that can shake off that needling feeling that he might go.

nico gapes at you, trying to unpack everything.

you shake your head, fingers trembling as you stand.

"I'll give you some space." you have no where to go, maybe your sister's house two hours away by train, but you can't stand the tortured look on his face.

you run out, ignoring his calls of your name until he catches you on the street.

his fingers loop around your wrist easily, and you want to shake them off because you can't bear having his gentle touch now and losing it later.

"I'll never leave you alone, schatz. you know that. so don't walk out on me, please."

you hang your head low; you love him so much, but it's so hard.

you're so afraid to lose him you're not letting yourself love him.

you tell him so, and his face crumples as he takes you in his arms.

you whisper promises to each other under the streetlights, to never leave each other and to communicate better.

from then on, you believe everything he says.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

you made a rebel of a careless man's careful daughter

nico is watching you from the kitchen, because your youngest sister forced you to sit on the couch and gave him a dirty look that had him following her into the kitchen to help with the drying.

she notices the smile on his face: soft, completely unguarded and full of admiration.

she sighs. maybe you are in good hands after all.

when you called a month ago to tell her that nico brought you to switzerland on a whim and you didn't panic, make an itinerary and freak out, she almost choked on her water.

you who bared your teeth at the unknown, who always needed a plan?

he made you so carefree. it makes her relieved that you have him now, because she saw how bad things were when your mother was depressed and you were balancing school, a part time job and watching all of them.

she was too young to understand anything then, but she wishes now that she had behaved better, understood more, just to take a pound off of the heavy burden you carried.

"y'know, I think you're making her a rebel."

"what?" your boyfriend laughs at the younger girl, and she nods seriously.

"she came late today, and she only fixed the flowers once. that's crazy improvement."

"hmm." he's smiling at you again, while you laugh at something one of your brothers' had said. she relishes in the fact that he can hardly take his eyes off of you.

"she's had to fight for us her whole life," this gets nico's attention, "and she's had to fight for herself. we were always here, but we were too young to understand the weight she carried for us."

"but now," she feels oddly emotional, the unwarranted guilt she has from simply not understanding dissolving in her throat, "she has you to fight for her."

you, her sweet sister who wasn't grown and was forced to take on more than any kid did, finally had someone in her corner.

you could afford to be careless once in a while now.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

+ you are the best thing that's ever been mine

you are undeniably sick: runny nose, shivers, a cough.

calling into your job for a day off, you sleep in until your phone shines 2:37 PM.

nico hears your stirring, and comes in. he smoothes your hair and kisses your red nose.

quietly, because he's afraid your head hurts, he hands you a bowl of soup and reties your hair for you.

he fusses, the captain side of him coming in as he fluffs your pillows and rub your shoulders.

you can't remember the last time someone looked after you when you were sick.

so maybe it's the delirium and the fact you can't really breathe, but you give him a loopy smile (the Advil was kicking in).

"you are the best thing that's ever even mine, handsome."

he flushes and rolls his eyes affectionately, and cuddles you close.

your statement still stands when he inevitably gets sick half a week later and becomes a whiny baby.

you love him so, so much.

★・・・・★・・・・ ★・・・・★

© sweetteainthesummerx.tumblr. all rights reserved. unauthorized copying, translation, or claiming of my writing or any works as your own is strictly prohibited.

[boydepartment]

quiet nights- hwang hyunjin x reader

a/n: i am sorry this was completely self indulgent :( ik i have requests rn but like… i finished all my work and im just laying down next to my mom watching hyunjins vlogs on the tv so this is FOR ME :(( your girl has been a little tired lately and mentally stressed i usually don’t even write or take requests for skz anymore but……………. omg what’s that behind you???!!!?

warnings- none, fluff, they just talk in the hotel room. not proof read.

wc- 400-500

MASTERLIST

curling up beside your cool hotel pillows was the standard while traveling. you didn’t expect your boyfriend to get back to the hotel room until later tonight. hyunjin was a busy man and his errands for this trip were later than your errands. your errands finished when his started, so needless to say you really missed him.

you fumbled around trying to get comfortable in the dim hotel room, you had all the lights off and you could see the city lights from the open curtains.

since the room was so high up you felt comfortable leaving them open, there was no balcony or any openings so you could enjoy truly enjoy the view of the bustling city.

you sat up and took a seat by the window, taking the throw blanket you and hyunjin bought from your last trip with you.

it was amazing to you that there was so many people living so many different lives, so many lights to signify different things. before you knew it you had grabbed the sketchbook and charcoal out of your bag. hyunjin had bought you and him art supplies while you were out earlier.

you started to sketch out the city in front of you, so focused on the scene. you wanted to challenge yourself to not try and erase or clean up your lines unless it was with the medium.

your brows furrowed and you started to get in your head, not even realizing your boyfriend was back in the hotel room. hyunjin thought you were asleep so he set down the bags of surprises quietly. when he walked further into the hotel room he saw you sitting by the window with the sketchpad in front of you. smiling to himself he watched you for a bit, changing from his outdoor clothes to indoor.

once he was done he went up to you and put his hand on your shoulder, the thin piece of charcoal snapped and you looked up at him.

“you scared me.” you felt yourself laugh a little before smiling up at him. hyunjin looked down at you, his smile never leaving his face.

“i’m sorry, my intended…” he mumbled and leaned down to kiss you.

you smiled into the kiss and set the art stuff down on the small table.

“let’s get your hands cleaned up and then we can head to bed alright? it’s late…” hyunjin caressed your face and kissed your forehead. you nodded and you both walked to the bathroom.

he helped you wash the charcoal off your hands as he told you about his day, “then this lady complimented my jewelry and i found out she was some like high political power that i didn’t even know!” hyunjin whispered through giggles.

“when did you find out?” you asked, giggling aswell, your boyfriend always found himself in weird positions like this.

hyunjin started laughing again, “literally four people came up to me and were like, ‘do you know who that is?’ and obviously i was like ‘nooooo what?’”

that sounded like something he would do and you could so clearly imagine it, “how does this keep happening to you?”

he dried off your hands and kissed your palms, “i don’t know my love! people just talk to me i guess. i don’t even know what they’re saying half the time.”

you started to giggle again and you guys walked over to the bed and got in. it was finally comfortable to you with your boyfriend next to you.

“so tell me about your day?” he laid on his side facing you, tracing your hands with his fingertips, “i had to leave when you got back so i didn’t get to ask…”

“it was busy, i had to talk to a lot of people too, not political powers though.” you teased him, he threw his head back and laughed.

“but it was good, i walked around a bit when you left, picked up a couple things for us too. there’s leftovers in the small fridge.” you spoke softly. hyunjin nodded and scooted closer to you, you could tell he was getting tired. sleep finally knocking on his door.

“i found… i found a nice cafe…” he yawned and pulled you closer to him, “healthy food… nice breakfast…” hyunjin started to shut his eyes.

you relaxed in his arms and started to place with the ends of his hair, “want to go there for breakfast tomorrow?”

he nodded, “then a museum…”

“then a museum…” you repeated and smiled to yourself, sleep starting to come for you too, “we better get rest then…”

hyunjin nodded into your neck, “mhm….” humming.

“i love you..” you whispered, your hand moving back and forth on his back.

“i love you most..”

[presidenthades]

Day 1 of HOTD adventures at New York Comic Con 🎉

First thing I did today was run to my photo op with Matt Smith.

He. Is. DELIGHTFUL.

At these conventions, photo ops go super fast because they have huge lines of people to go through. The whole 10-second process is basically step up to the celebrity, smile, and immediately leave so the next person can go.

Matt is hugely popular so it was definitely important that they hurry through his line, but he was still friendly with everybody in the 5 seconds they were standing beside him. Really great energy. My interaction went something like:

Matt: “Hello, glad you’re here!”

Photographer: snaps photo

Matt: “I love Caraxes! 😃”

Me: “Thank you! 😃”

Handlers: usher me away so the next person can go

You can tell that Matt has done a lot of these fan events, and he’s very good at it.

Since my Matt photo op went faster than expected, I was able to go to an earlier TGC autograph session than I was originally planning. (This proved to be a very good decision later.)

Autograph sessions tend to take a little longer than photo ops, because the celebrity generally will exchange a few words with fans while signing. It’s still considered good etiquette not to hog too much time, or else people behind you have to wait even longer. TGC’s line was not super long when I arrived, so lucky me!

TGC also offered selfies at his booth, which was a pleasant surprise. (Not everyone offers it.) He seemed a bit tired (important note for later), but no judgment: conventions are really hard work. The celebrities are taking photos and signing autographs for hundreds of people over multiple hours.

He was VERY polite and nice. When I took out my bookbind for him to sign, he spent a good minute looking at it and complimenting the cover etc. And when he finished signing, he very neatly arranged the ribbon bookmark to mark the page where he signed.

(He was definitely wowed by Debustee’s art too.)

Fabien was in the booth beside Tom’s. Fabien was announced as attending the convention much later than Tom and Matt, so I hadn’t made plans to get photos or autographs with him. Maybe tomorrow if scheduling works out. 👀

Then I went to my pre-reserved photo op with TGC immediately afterwards (different from the selfie). There were dozens of people in line in front of me, and the photo ops go super fast, so we didn’t have a particularly long interaction. But I managed to get Sunfyre in there.

After a lunch break, I went to get in Matt Smith’s autograph line. He was scheduled from 2:20-7:00 with a few short breaks every so often. When I got in line at 2:00, the line was already HUGE.

I waited in line 3 hours 45 minutes to get my autograph. 🙃😤😮‍💨

HOTD was the main reason I was interested in attending the convention in the first place, so I was prepared to wait in lines to do everything I wanted. But in case anyone was wondering: Matt Smith is indeed very very popular in the year Two Thousand and Twenty Four.

While I was in line for Matt, I heard from other people in line that TGC went home about three hours early. So anyone who hadn’t already gotten their autograph that day needed to get a refund (or maybe a transfer to the next day, I’m not sure). He is still scheduled for autographs tomorrow, but it made me extra glad that I was able to get my autograph early.

I had previously been told to always do photos and autographs ASAP because sometimes the celebrity gets ill or has to leave early, etc. Just a tip for anyone who wants to go to a con and do celebrity interactions in the future!

Back to Matt’s line: I was almost to the front when an event handler announced that Matt was no longer doing quotes. With autographs, there’s of course the actual signature, but sometimes you can add-on things like a quote for the celebrity to write. When I was planning my convention trip months ago, I pre-reserved the quote add-on for Matt. At some point in the last few weeks, they removed the quote option because they realized he would be on a time crunch if he wrote too many quotes. But I’d already paid for and reserved my quote, which the event was supposed to honor even if they changed the process later.

Another woman in line who’d paid for a quote was also upset, and I imagine other people were too. But the event handler came back out and clarified that those of us who already paid for quotes would still get them; they just wouldn’t allow anyone else to get a quote.

Here is the autograph and quote I waited almost four hours for. 🥰

I made an updated version of the Handbook’s dust jacket specifically for the convention. The original dust jacket had my author and fic info on the back flap, but I thought it’d be fun to do one where Daemon gets the author bio.

“War was easier than daughters” is actually a Ned Stark quote, which I borrowed for the Handbook Chapter 11’s title. When you get a quote during an autograph signing, you first write down the quote on a slip of paper. Then you give the paper to the celebrity’s manager and tell them where exactly the celebrity should sign. Matt’s manager was a little confused by the quote but rolled with it.

When Matt read the quote, he said, “Huh, I don’t remember saying that. 🤔😄” But he was very amused and good-natured, and he had no problem writing it down. I was holding little Caraxes again, and Matt was happy to see Caraxes again (although I think Matt may have forgotten he’d already seen Caraxes 7 hours earlier—tons of other fans he was interacting with in the meantime).

I managed to accomplish all my Matt Smith and TGC interactions today, which were my top priorities for this convention. I consider today a success, even though I spent a lot of it waiting in line. Tomorrow morning there will be a HOTD panel, which I have a reservation for, so I’m excited to see Matt, Tom, and Fabien onstage. I don’t think we’re supposed to stream or record the event, but I will try to take notes.

Bonus: a baby dragon and egg that I got at the con! 🐉🐣

[venoyale]

Oversized Sweatshirts

a satosugu drabble • fluff/domestic • canon divergent au

To most people, Satoru and Suguru are both tall, imposing figures. It’s not like people would notice any differences in their physique, despite the fact that the younger man was shorter by mere centimetres. However, a fun thing to know is that, while Suguru may be shorter, he makes up for it with muscle definition, with years of training in martial arts. His muscles can be seen rolling within his skin for every subtle move he makes.

Because of this, Suguru loves wearing large sweatshirts to give his body comfortable breathing space. They also happen to look amazing on him. This wasn’t always the case, but ever since Shoko and Satoru had started dragging him for shopping trips post-missions, he’s found himself more inclined to buy more sweatshirts for himself, ranging from soft earth colours to sharp greys and muted ocean blues.

Satoru is Suguru’s number one fan, especially when he’s wearing the soft article while lounging about in their apartment. He can’t help but admire how good Suguru looks in them. But it was only during one of their cuddle sessions does he realize how much he loves feeling them too.

So, after one particular shopping trip, Satoru rummages through Suguru’s set of bags to find the collection of sweatshirts he knows are there. He picks a green one, like the leaves of pine, and sneaks off to his room to try it on. He makes sure to rearrange the bags so that Suguru doesn’t suspect a thing. Satoru tries the sweatshirt on, and while the oversized aspect also flatters his figure, something feels…missing. It doesn’t feel the same as that afternoon and Satoru cannot figure out why.

Disappointed, he takes the sweatshirt off and returns it while Suguru is oblivious in the shower.

A few days pass by and Satoru comes back home late at night after a tedious mission that wore off his patience and energy. Suguru is fast asleep, so he carefully trudges into the shower to wash off any grime and dirt. As soon as he’s done, he tiredly rummages through his drawer and ends up pulling a familiar piece of clothing out. With his exhaustion, he doesn’t consider the switched laundry and slips it over his head. Usually, Satoru sleeps in his own bed after late missions so he doesn’t disturb Suguru, who tends to wake up cranky if woken up in the middle of the night.

He slips into his own covers and a scent he recognizes wafts gently underneath his nose, immediately washing his entire form with the comfort he was searching for a few days prior.

“This smells like Suguru…” Is the last coherent thought he has before the scent puts him into the deepest sleep he’s had in a while. It’s like sleeping on a cloud, especially when his basketball shorts allow his legs to rub along the cool sheets. He’s comfortable. He’s at peace.

When Satoru wakes up the next morning, he’s well rested. The aroma of cooked jasmine rise and miso soup enters his room, causing the corners of his mouth to tilt in a content smile. As he washes his face, he finally realizes he’s in Suguru’s sweatshirt, but a part of him doesn’t want to take it off.

He walks to the kitchen, half expecting Suguru to yell at him for stealing his clothes, but instead, Suguru gives him a soft good morning paired with the gentlest of smiles.

“It looks good on you, Satoru.”

The older man’s cheeks tinge pink as he smiles widely at the compliment.

“Yeah, I know~” he responds cheekily, even though his heart is fluttering like the wings of a butterfly. He eats his breakfast, which tastes amazing more than ever.

Satoru realizes that he feels at home, with Suguru.

- ven

Feel free to use my ask box to suggest any hcs I can briefly write about! Be respectful, is all I ask.

[pettypuppy-jonghyun]

Family | Lee Felix

Summary: you have a daughter that Felix adopted and you both are expecting a baby boy soon

Warnings: pregnancy

Notes: this is something that's been on my mind for a little because I have a daughter and I feel like her and Felix would get along so well🥹

"What are you up to?" Felix questions, coming around the sofa to peer at the project in your hand. "It's very tiny."

You smiled, raising up the little hat you were crocheting. "It's supposed to fit a newborn's head, love. Of course it's tiny."

His eyes softened immediately at the mention of your baby who was still on his way. Felix maneuvered the pillows so he could take a seat beside you, careful of the yarn you were using and your tools. He leaned in to take a better look at the small hat that was nearly done.

"It kinda looks like..." He trails off in thought.

"Cookie monster?" You finish with a laugh.

Although he was correct, it only semi looked like the blue character. It was missing the second eye and you had yet to attach the cookie fabric bites you made previously. Still, it was quite obvious what you were attempting to create and you were proud of it. The hat was supposed to go along with the nursery theme you and your husband chose.

Suddenly, both of your attention was changed over to a high pitched giggle echoing down the hallway. Your daughter emerged shortly after the sound, running into the living room with paper in her hand. Her little feet tapped quickly against the wooden floor as she rushed to Felix.

"Look! Cookie monster!" She exclaims, practically shoving the paper into his face.

Felix pulls at the paper, holding it at an angle so he could see properly. "Would you look at that?" He glances at you with a soft smile. "This is the absolute best drawing of Cookie Monster I have ever seen."

Your daughter grins, hands folded behind her back as she swung side to side, her cheeks turning pink. You couldn't help but laugh, finding it absolutely adorable how shy she suddenly became when complimented. It only lasted a minute before she ripped the papers from his hand, passing it along to you.

"Mommy!"

You take the photo, eyeing the details of perfectly scribbled circles of blue and black. "Wow, this is art! Darling, have you ever seen such a talented artist before?" Your eyes met your husband.

Felix's eyes gave away his emotions as he continue to interact with your daughter. The amount of love and affection he had for her always made your heart swell. When he officially adopted her and became her father, you felt your puzzle all come together and be complete. You entire world was right here and you wanted to soak in every moment.

"Mommy, show the baby," your daughter suddenly demands, her hand falling onto your stomach.

You nod. "We can show him. Come here." You helped her onto the sofa, scootching her right up to your side so you both sat comfortably.

Felix watched for a moment before cuddling closer, gently moving your crochet project to the side. His arm wrapped around the back of your head, right hand coming to cup yours. He silently watched as your daughter turned her drawing to face your stomach, speaking to her unborn brother.

"You think he'll like cookie monster?" She asks, peering up at the two of you. "Or Elmo?"

Felix snorts. "I sure hope he likes cookie monster. Everything he owns is that theme." His eyes drift over to the large bins full of baby gifts you still hadn't unpacked into the nursery yet.

You shrug. "Even if he doesn't, he'll grow out of his things before he has enough conscious to tell us."

You leant your head down onto Felix's shoulder, watching as your two most dear people in the world interacted happily with one another. They even were planning for the third addition to your life, which you couldn't help but feel so excited for. You close your eyes with a smile and began to drift off to sleep.

"Mommy is sleeping, shh."

"Daddy sleep too?"

You attempted to hold back your tears as you heard her call him her father with so much love. You felt Felix tense at the name, sighing softly before responding.

"Daddy too. We can all sleep with mommy."

[incalamity]

hunt to consume | 969 | rated g

relationship: abigail & hannibal tags: canon compliant, season one, pov abigail hobbs

summary

Abigail eats at Hannibal’s home. She leaves knowing two secrets: 1) Dr. Hannibal Lecter is a cannibal and 2) he’s seriously head over heels for Will Graham.

KEEP READING or READ ON AO3.

The chicken is juicy, easy to chew, and familiar. 

Abigail isn’t sure if there’s ever been a time in her life that she’s been served actual chicken. She can’t trust what she’s experienced in the past as totally normal, non-people food. But the one thing she can trust is what she knows. 

And she knows this chicken is human. 

“How do you like it?”

She looks up from her plate to give Dr. Lecter a smile. “It’s good,” she says, and she doesn’t have to lie. “I haven’t had chicken in a while.”

“Well, then, I hope it is to your tastes,” Dr. Lecter says with a soft smile. It crinkles at the corners of his eyes. He looks kind. 

Abigail could laugh at the irony, but instead, she laughs at the poorly disguised cannibal joke. 

“I think your cooking is one in a million,” she says, hedging on a compliment but teetering into wordplay. She doesn’t know if Dr. Lecter catches it. He’s very astute when it comes to his facial expressions. He’s only really got two of them: kind psychiatrist and unsettlingly neutral. 

Dr. Lecter smiles again, his kindness overflowing—overcompensating. “That is very kind of you to say, Abigail.”

She wonders if she should remind him that most of her food has either come from her cannibalistic father or a shitty insane asylum’s cafeteria, but she figures it’s in her best interests not to mention that. 

She takes another bite of her chicken. It’s not like she can say it tastes exactly like her father’s cooking. Her father had been a cook in the same way everyone breathes air: it was necessary to know how to do it, so he did it. He didn’t turn it into an art like Dr. Lecter did.

There is a different kind of care Dr. Lecter uses when he prepares and cooks his victims. Her father apparently wanted to use all parts of her lookalikes to not be wasteful, to cherish them, but Dr. Lecter doesn’t seem like the type to care about that sort of thing. Dr. Lecter only cares to the extent that he himself is the one who’s going to be eating their meat. He doesn’t put care into making the meat tender because it was once a person but because it’s going into his body, because when he serves it to people it becomes a reflection of him. 

Abigail finds that she prefers Dr. Lecter’s method of cooking. She wonders how often Dr. Lecter feeds his dinner guests people. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

Dr. Lecter lifts his gaze from his meal. He’s a slow eater. He’s probably savoring every bite. 

“Yes, you may.”

“Why isn’t Will here?” He wasn’t here last time either, she wants to say, but she knows Dr. Lecter hears the unspoken words regardless. 

“I was merely being careful,” he answers. Cop out. “He is the man who killed your father, after all.”

Abigail frowns and looks back down at her chicken. She’s always been a fast eater. She doesn’t savor food like she probably should. 

“I like Will.” She expects the words to be a lie, only said in defense of Dr. Lecter’s supposed belief of her fragile sensibilities, but she’s surprised at her own honesty. 

She blinks away from her almost-finished chicken and finds Dr. Lecter’s gaze has grown hard and dark. It’s the first shock she’s been in since meeting him. She’s never seen this side of him before, one that makes her heart race, just like that time her father had pulled a knife from the block and slit her mother’s throat. 

She takes a deep breath and the final bite of her chicken. “Do you think I should hold my dad’s death over Will’s head?” she asks, straining to sound casual. She wonders if Dr. Lecter will think her uneasiness comes from talking about her dad’s killer and not from talking to a cannibal. “My dad was going to kill me and him. And you, probably. One life over three. It’s better that way, isn’t it?”

She stabs her fork into the salad and uses the leaves to mop up the rest of whatever sauce is left on her plate. A habit leftover from her dead dad. Never leave anything behind. It’s disrespectful. It’s rude. 

“Is that the way you see it?”

“It’s the way that it is.” She nods her head, resolute. “I don’t blame Will. You should invite him next time.”

Dr. Lecter’s eyes go dark again, but Abigail doesn’t feel the same spike of adrenaline coursing through her veins. She sees those eyes for what they are: protectiveness, possessiveness, jealousy. 

She stops herself from smiling, mostly out of self-preservation. Dr. Lecter wants to keep Will all too himself and apparently sees an eighteen-year-old girl as competition. 

“You seem happier around him.” 

It’s probably not the smartest thing to say, but it’s true. Granted, she’s only ever seen him around Will, Dr. Bloom, Jack Crawford, and Freddie Lounds, but her point still stands. 

“Happier?” Dr. Lecter is tight-lipped. He looks more like a psychiatrist than ever. 

“Yes,” she answers simply, then sets her spoon and fork down onto the empty plate. “Do you not want to invite him over?”

She’s playing with fire. She’s stoking the flame. 

But Dr. Lecter takes the tinder and ignites himself. 

“If you would like Will to be present at our next dinner, then he will be invited.”

She isn’t completely clueless. Dr. Lecter is hiding more than just cannibalism and a crush, and she’s a part of it all, for some reason. She figures it’s best to be on Dr. Lecter’s side, if anything. He’s the biggest predator of them all, after all. 

She smiles. “Thank you, Dr. Lecter.”

Dr. Lecter smiles back. “You are very welcome, Abigail.”

[nahisummerhold]

The Picture

Nahi had received a package, she had left forwarding information but she hadn’t really expected anything in the post except a letter or two that always came. A  bill here invitations for her to sing, that sort of thing. Today though, there was a cardboard tube with a note. 

“Miss Nahilvi, 

I would hope you remember me, you purchased a couple painting’s of mine from the Hoverbahm Gallery a few months back, I was there so you politely asked me to have tea. I am an old man and that sweet act and your compliments on my art made me feel so much younger. I hadn’t painted anything in a time, but you found what I had done as inspired and told me that you would be hanging them in your rehearsal studio. That a beautiful young woman like you would find inspiration in this old man made me feel young again. 

I hope you enjoy the enclosed, I have a feeling I will not be living much longer and I will not leave my home as others suggest.  Dalaran has been my home for as long as I can remember and no matter what I stay with it. I have put in this container some of the art I have not sold for personal reasons, I wish you to have it, or to find a good home for it.

With these pictures, I have added a piece that I have painted since I met you. That night I had a dream and I was inspired to create this for you and that I was on a timeline for it. I do not believe I will see you again, or many people, in fact. All of these have legally been transferred to you and I hope you will find them as beautiful as the others, but mostly the the last piece that you were the inspiration for. 

Yours sincerely,

Oddital Agreilane

Nahi remembered the conversation, it felt like the old Quel’dorei was just lonely and he had told her of troubles with money and that he was selling his art to try and make ends meet. The pieces were perfect for what she was looking for, so she bought a couple more since he needed the money and they were the first she had hung in her studio. 

That poor man.

Nahi stood, suddenly she had something to do, picking up the hearth that would take her to her home’s garden and began to invoke it. The instant she tried to use it a magical blast sent her back against the wall.

She had no sense of time when she woke all she knew was that her head hurt and she was still holding the stone in her hand but when she opened it the stone was in shards some buried deep into her palm. Rising up, she felt a little dizzy, she checked her head there was no blood, that meant she needed to take care of her hand and figured out what happened. 

It took longer than she would have expected because those instruments of magic had been shoved deep into her hand. Eventually, when they were all removed and bandaged, she stepped out of her apartment but no one was around so she made her way outside, all about her were people yelling about Dalaran, none of it made sense. Running to the local guard station and they were making an announcement for people to calm, they had heard news about Dalaran but nothing was substantiated. Oh Sun, what did that mean? 

Moving around the corner she pulled out her comm unit to reach out to Pathyn, his balcony had a view of the floating city, itself. Five missed messages.

Pathyn: Are you okay? Were you in the city? 

Two minutes later.

Pathyn: Come on Nahi.

Almost simultaneously.

Kyean: Nahi, darlin’ are you alright?

Five minutes.

Pathyn:  Nahi, if you do not answer , I will come to you.

Ten minutes.

Kyean: Path is worried, we are coming to find you.

That was an hour ago, well shit.

Nahi to Pathyn: I am alright, just been looking for information on what happened. Are you okay? What is happening? 

Pathyn: Thank fuck! There is so much going on, Kye and I having to come find you was a delay we didn’t need. Dalaran is missing, what we have heard was that there were threat of attack and they were going to portal the city. Next, communications were that it was gone and people were on some new lands, fighters are on their way there. 

Kyean: It’s been hours. Are you alright? 

Hours, how long had she been knocked out for? 

As she was reading this another message came through from Commander Dal’shula. There it was, she was heading to the battle. Get her kit make sure it was in order and ready herself for tomorrow.

Nahi to Pathyn: Tell the large man hovering over your shoulder I am fine, just have been out gathering information on what happened.

Pathyn: Since you responded he has stopped saying he would track you down, Illi-daddy.

Kyean to Pathyn and Nahi:  Stop calling me that, you have no idea how often we hear that. It’s gross really.

Nahi in new group text: Then stop acting like I need protecting. I am a big girl, can tie my own sandals and everything. I have to go get ready my call came in, I will keep in touch.

Pathyn to group: Be safe, *you* keep in touch. Will miss you.

Kyean to group: If you need anything text one of us. We will be heading there shortly, if you need us we will be close.

Nahi to group: Hope to see you soon.

Kyean to group: Even me?

Pathyn to group: Even him?

Nahi to group: Okay, maybe not him. You guys be safe too. 

With that she put her device in her bag and headed for the apartments. When she go to her room the tube of portraits caught her eye. Did he know what was to come? What had she inspired? 

Opening the package, she began to unfold what was there. The very top piece stopped her. It was beautiful. It took her breath away. It was her.

(Thank you @kissfortheelves for the amazing commission and the inspiration for so much RP to come)

(@talonoa for mention) 

[hel7l7]

Hey, sorry that it seems that you had a hard time with the last ask! Quick question: you've said before in one of your posts that hel7l7 is just a character. Do you expect all of your asks to be genuine? Have you considered that any of your followers understands that you are playing a character, and are simply playing along? Or, are you attempting to deceive your followers? Simply put, are you being genuine?

Hi,

I think some people missed that I was lowkey satire in my reply to that last anon. I'm aware that it was probably sent to me as a hate message but I hoped that anon would see it and realise that it was a little bit of a weird thing to say to me.

Anyway, interesting question..!

Let me break this down ->

Do I expect all of my asks to be genuine? No. It's the internet. I know how this works. I don't expect everything to be genuine. Do I think it's ok that some people send me the weirdest shit? No. Would I like all my asks to be genuine? Yes. But I just know it's not realistic. I think that 90% of my asks are nice and genuine. I get a lot of compliments and nice messages that I don't always post. (But I do see them, so if you read this and you ever send me one, ily!) The other 10% are hate messages or weird, triggering stuff that I mostly delete immediately. My DMs are a different story. But luckily those aren't public...

Have you considered that any of your followers understands that you are playing a character, and are simply playing along? I'm not playing a character. I have mentioned in the past that hel7l7/Bear is some sort of alter ego. It felt like that for a long time. And I realise now that this might have made it sound like hel7l7/Bear are much different than who I am when I use my real name.

I'm Bear/hel7l7. It is not a character that's much different than who I am in real life. I have friends who have followed this account on my instagram and they never spoke about there being any big difference between me irl and me online.

What people do need to keep in mind is that this is social media. What you see here is a sliver of who I am in real life. My art is very raw and honest and that quickly turns into people thinking they know me. In that way you can see Bear/hel7l7 as that part of me. It is the part of me that posts online about my healing process, about my feelings, it is the part of me that is most present when I make vent art. When I make stuff for this creative diary sort of thing. It's not a made up character, it just is a part of me that I share online.

So if people think I'm playing a character, I hope this clears it up.

Or, are you attempting to deceive your followers? Simply put, are you being genuine?

I don't know why I would deceive my followers... What would the purpose of that be? I am being genuine. But I do think it is important that we continue to realize that the internet is a floating place outside of “real life”. I am sincere within the context of the internet. But I also try to protect my own peace of mind by occasionally choosing not to respond to everything.

I don't owe my followers anything. I do my best to respond to messages. And when I do it will always be with genuine intentions. Everything I do for this account is done with love and joy for the work I create and do. I am extremely grateful for what I have built up over the years and for the people who support me.

The downside is that this involves a group of people who think they know me even though they have never actually met me. I sometimes have difficulty with the para-social aspect of having this account. In those moments I am no less sincere, but sometimes I have to protect my peace a little.

I hope this has provided some clarification.

[shabre-legacy]

Taris Part One

Once again, Aric finds himself stuck waiting. If they had a full squad, then he’d have something to do. But it’s just him and his annoyance as his CO handles the responsibility he was used to. This time though, it was a meeting with the governor while he’d gathered the gear they’d need to trek through the disgusting swamp that is Taris. It was a good thing he kept track of their gear on the ship. Otherwise it would have filled up time and he’d have something to do other then demonstrate his competence again.

He hefts the new rifle he was able to pick up on Coruscant and double checks it before propping it carefully next to him and leaning back and closes his eyes. It really was a nice rifle. It wasn’t the long sniper rifle he liked to use when he could. This one was better suited to the mixed combat distances he ended up using. There were definitely perks to being in Havoc.

A bright, deep chuckle fills the air around him as one of the many people wandering about moves closer and leans against the wall next to him. “Wasn’t expecting to run into you here too. Good to see ya.” The voice is familiar enough to cause him to open his eyes again.

The tanned skin and dark locs are familiar. He’s good with faces, he’s a soldier, he has to be. That kid Riggs. How the kriff?!… “Are you following us?”

Riggs seems to think his question a joke and grins. “Nah, got easier ways to talk to people then following to a swamp like this.” The man wrinkles his nose as he glances around them. “The Captain’s got business here; as her hired gun, where she goes, I go.”

“You’re awfully comfortable calling yourself that.” He’s always had a distaste for mercenaries. A greedy, selfish, self-interested lot in his opinion.

Riggs just shrugs. “Couldn’t do my job if I wasn’t”

Aric shrugs and turns back to staring at the market area across the small road. Corso is quiet a moment before he speaks again. “That yours? Looks new.” Riggs was gesturing at the rifle.

Aric lifts it, “picked it up on Coruscant. Nice thing about Havoc. Much bigger budget for good gear.”

Riggs hums. “That’s a nice one” he rattles off the rifle’s stats like he’d memorized the catalog. “You’ve got good taste.”

Aric can’t help but feel a little proud at the compliment. He knows his rifles. “It’ll do. I prefer my sniper rifle, but the efficacy range is a bit long for some missions.”

Riggs nods “Could I see it?”

Aric should have predicted that one. He lifts his prize off its holster and holds it out to be looked at. It’s not new, a gift from the Deadeyes when he was promoted. But it was still a damn good blaster.

Riggs lets out a low whistle. “Now that’s a work of art right there!” His eyes skip over the weapon and Aric notes the attention he’s paying to each detail. This man may not have served in the Army, but he knows his blasters from experience, not just theory.

“The newer models give this rifle a bad rep, but this gen. They’re some of the best you can get, even including the black market stuff.”

Jorgan nods “I know some of the guys update frequently, but I go more for reliability than flashiness.”

“Psh the newer ones aren’t all they’re cracked up to be. The material they use to make it lighter has a tendency to bubble, messing with your aim. They’re just too showy. Something like this. This is craftsmanship, solid, reliable, efficient. This will last you a while… whatever that looks like in Special Forces.”

The sound of a nearby door opening has Corso looking up and pushing away from the wall as the Mirialan he was with before walks out of the warehouse. Corso gives him one last grin as he goes to walk away. “She’s a real beauty Jorgan.” He lifts a hand before turning and jogging over to his boss.

[pluckyredhead]

Green Arrow #1 (2023)

I promised to yell my feelings about this issue so here! Are! My feelings!!!

Spoilers beneath the cut, obviously. Also, I won’t be including scans since I want to encourage people to buy this comic. It’s already selling so well that it was expanded from a 6 issue miniseries to 12 issues before the first issue even came out - if sales stay strong, maybe we can get an ongoing!

First off, love Sean Izaakse’s art so so so much, I adore his designs for the characters and the way he makes them move. Roy and Connor’s new looks are a little busy but I forgive him because they have such lustrous hair. (Though I still long for a Connor with a curl pattern.)

Starting with Ollie hitting on Dinah while barely conscious? A+. Also, the bit where he realizes he’s on an island again and is like “HOW DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING TO ME???” made me laugh out loud.

I’m not going to lie, on the first double page spread, I’m...not sure why Doomsday is there? Or whose arm is sticking up out of the rubble? Does anyone know?

Why on earth would Dinah call Connor “Hawke?” That line felt really weird to me. Izaakse has been calling him that on Twitter so idk if they’re trying to rebrand him that way or what. Are they making it his new codename? I guess it’s slightly less dumb than “Drake.”

Also, I love the flashback panel of Roy and Connor with their arms around each other, but I am very tired of this thing DC has been doing lately where we see the aftermath of big moments and not the big moment itself. I suppose I shouldn’t complain considering that they nailed the most important reunion in this issue, but I really would have liked to see Connor’s reunions with Roy and Dinah, especially considering that Emiko and Dinah both had basically zero reaction to learning that Roy wasn’t dead. (And in that vein, I’d like to see an actual conversation with Ollie about Connor being ace and not just a flashback panel that’s like “I told my dad, and he was great about it! This will only be addressed annually in Pride issues from now on!” Bonus points for Ollie being very supportive but not 100% getting it and getting a chance to learn.)

JASON SAID THE VAN HAD FINGERPRINTS THAT MATCHED. ROY’S LEAD CAME FROM JASON. Jason and Roy are another set of characters where we were robbed of a good, satisfyingly emotional reunion, but in the single solitary panel we were given of the two of them together, Jason did say he would find Lian, AND HE KEPT HIS PROMISE. Can we please stop discoursing about whether or not he is a good friend to Roy now?

Ollie says that Roy is the greatest marksman in the world and my heart grew three sizes. The last time this came up was 2006ish and it was contested, with the heavy implication that Roy would soon surpass Ollie. I guess he finally made it! I’M SO PROUD. (Although... Shado is the greatest marksperson in the world. I choose to believe that Ollie is using a gendered term deliberately, especially considering what he says to the Manhunter at the end of the issue. Anyway lololol get fucked Merlyn, enjoy being #4.)

“I may have taught Roy and Connor” what did you teach Connor, Ollie? Stop lying.

The flashback panel of Ollie and Dinah fighting back to back is! So! Good! Very Doc Shaner, which is always a compliment.

WHEN I TELL YOU I SCREAMED WHEN LIAN APPEARED

The first time I read this I wasn’t sure if they knew it was Lian, because obviously she’s a lot older than they would have expected. Rereading the panel where the family reacts hits different when you know: the dumbstruck look on Roy’s face! Dinah’s comforting hand on his shoulder! Connor saying “Good form” because he is a PROUD UNCLE! And his little smile on the next page as he wrangles the guy she shot HE THINKS SHE IS SO COOL.

I truly feared that they were going to let her go so Roy’s line, “You threw your first ninja star when you were two years old,” stopped my heart. And then Roy’s speech, besides being heartbreaking, is full of so many great details. I love that he has a sweet tooth and Lian doesn’t. I love the panel of them watching Point Break. I love that they remembered his missing arm in the flashback panel of him mourning Lian.

And on that note, the line “I don’t care how you’re here”...sometimes I get frustrated by DC’s refusal to try to logic their mangled continuity back together  because it feels lazy to me, but here I think it was handled really elegantly. Lian was five and dead and now she’s not; Roy was missing an arm and then he wasn’t and then he was dead and now he’s not. They don’t know why, they’ve accepted that their lives are weird, and they’ve moved on. What’s important to me is that this comic sets out very clearly what is canon and what the characters remember experiencing (short answer: everything, because Roy clearly remembers both pre-Flashpoint and the New 52), because that tells me how to understand their relationships and their choices. I don’t care how they got here either, I just want to know what they’ve lived through.

God, the way he just goes to his knees and gives her all the space in the world. Trusting that she will make the decision that’s right for her, even if it’s one that hurts him. Offering his love on her terms. It’s so perfectly Roy and exactly what Lian needs in that moment.

AND THEN THEY HUG AND I SOBBED FOR TEN MINUTES. Lol @ Izaakse signing this page like “Yeah. You’re welcome.”

AND THEN A FAMILY GROUP HUG. I appreciate the acknowledgement that Lian and Cheshire interacted in Catwoman, because I was so frustrated that nothing came of that.

“They’ll never let our family be together.” This is such a smart move! If you only have 6 (now 12!) issues to bring back Ollie AND Lian AND Connor AND Mia AND (I hope) bring Cissie into the fold for the first time, giving all of the various deaths/disappearances/continuity hiccups one unified source is a great way to fit them all into one story.

And then: DYSTOPIAN OLLIE!!! Dystopian Ollie is always a good move! Dystopian Ollie wants you to use gender neutral threats! Dystopian Ollie has a chainsaw arrow! I love Dystopian Ollie.

ANYWAY THAT WAS A GOOD COMIC AND I WANT THE NEXT ISSUE IMMEDIATELY, THE END.

[archandshri]

The vision for an illustration breakdown from Shri - 27/04/2024

Hey Archie and everyone!

It's lovely to hear you taking control over your health and not letting anyone/society's expectations of a working/hustle culture control your life - leading to burnout. It really does feel like directly fighting against the capitalistic view when we value fun and rest above work and their view of 'success'

I also couldn't agree more with you - fairs are such a magical place, I've definitely got the best compliments and feedback from them, it always reminded me of the importance art has on people sometimes; always leaving me a bit dazed.

As promised my slightly late blog post is here. (It didn't allow me to edit my original post so)

I mentioned I just did a really big hand-in yesterday with Third Bear Press, so I don't want to go to ham on this post.

I did think about talking about my recent hand in but it's still too soon (I've been staring at those pages for two weeks straight and many weeks before that)

But if you want to have a cheeky look at it go check out the Kickstarter with Third Bear Press!

link: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/thirdbearpress/boxes-2

Anyway actually getting into the blog, I wanted to talk about something I've been pondering recently.

Archie and I were talking a while ago about how they're a bit frustrated with the difference between their vision for an illustration and their skill set - when your skill set doesn't match your creative vision.

And I indeed, I had some thoughts about it.

(also this is not supposed to be an @ at you Archie, I just went on a really long thought tangent).

My first thought was "I used to feel that all the time" Then I was like "Wow I haven't felt that for a long time" Then I thought "Wow that kinda sounds a bit fullhead?!"

But then I was like "Hold up, back up. I don't think it has to do completely with the skillset, it also has to do with the visions/expectations itself?" because I can't remember the last time I had that experience of having that illustration idea the same way I did a few years ago.

They're different, so it got me thinking why?

Breaking down my thoughts

Also, slight disclaimer: I did no research whatsoever for this so it's literally just my thoughts. Anyways, enjoy!

The vision/idea of an illustration

I don't have the same vision for an illustration anymore as I used to. Before I used to start illustrations/projects with a distinct image in mind, and then draw from there.

Nowadays I think of the idea/image and then clarify it with the message/thing I'm trying to convey through the image. Having this clarification on what you are trying to say is so helpful when hitting issues because you can always refuse back to that as a touchstone.

Without it shit hits the fan then it's harder to take that step back and reevaluate the image.

The minds-eye and the vision/idea

So this section of pondering reminded me a lot of the book I read What We See When We Read by Peter Mendelsund (very good book with a lot of nice pictures). This book discusses what we see when we read (hence the title), one of the main points of the book is what our brain actually images/pictures when reading text.

Here is an extract because it explains it better:

These readers contend that the success of a work of fiction hinges on the putative authenticity of the characters. Some readers go further and suggest that the only way they can enjoy a novel is if the main characters are easily visible: "Can you picture, in your mind, what Anna Karenina looks like?" I ask. "Yes," they say, "as if she were standing here in front of me." "What does her nose look like?" "I hadn't thought it out; but now that I think of it, she would be the kind of person who would have a nose like .. "But wait-how did you picture her before I asked? Noseless?" "Well..." "Does she have a heavy brow? Bangs? Where does she hold her weight? Does she slouch? Does she have laugh lines?" (Only a very tedious writer would tell you this much About a character)

pg 24 of What We See When We Read by Peter Mendelsund

This strangeness of the brain of feeling/believing we can see a character in your mind's eye in full clarity - but at the same time, not actually seeing any details?

This is what I think also happens when we have an illustration vision/idea for a piece of artwork, being able to 'see it' but at the same time not.

This then can cause a lot of issues in the fulfilment of this vision for an illustration, because how can you ever go to the standard of your idea if you don't even know what it is exactly your idea is?

The skillset

This I wanted to touch on because although there is more to it then a skillset, skillset does have a play in this - but maybe not in the way you expect it. Although yes if your skillset is better it's easier to meet these expectations for an illustration, I also believe it has a lot do to with processes and how to handle issues in illustration pieces.

So before university, my process for illustration was very simple.

idea for illustration

Sketch out illustration

Line the sketch

Colour the illustration

Finished

And if at any point in this process, the illustration won't working or I run into an issue - I kinda just gave up on it?

My process now:

Idea on illustration (along with what I'm trying to convey through it)

Research (sometimes, depending on the project)

Thumbnails

Initial sketch

Fleshed out sketch

Line

Colour

Texture

Finished

And at any point I run into an issue I solve it, for example, if the hand passion is wrong and just resketch it until I find one that's good.

Obviously, these a big elements of being skilled enough to be able to identify how something is wrong and how to fix it - so there is a sense of drawing mileage by being able to identify those things.

Anyways those our my thought on it - let me know if you guys have any thoughts/ideas on it too!

Thanks for reading my rambling thoughts

Hope everyone has a lovely dinner (I had a really nice roasted cauliflower with other picky bits)

All the good vibes

Shri

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

I'm getting myself so worked up that I'm crying at work, and it feels like people are giving up on me. The fact that people's first instinct is to compliment my writing, as if that is the issue and will make me feel better, hurts. When I say I feel excluded, I mean as a person. With my interests, my ideas. My OCs, my OC x Canons. Yet it always comes back to my writing somehow...

I just want to have fun. Talk about my interests, my favorite characters. Make OCs and ships and gush to friends about them.

I didn't think it would be so complicated or stressful just trying to enjoy myself, and the fact that friends keep expecting me to be fine, or keep posting/writing fics, is just... I don't know how to explain it.

The happiest I've been is when one of my friends associated me with a character I love, and would send me art and memes of them (or reminded them of my ship). It was something small, but meant so much to me, and I treasured it while it lasted.

It makes me sad thinking the only thing I'm associated with now is my writing, and that I can't get those moments back...

[elshells]

Recently I've been getting back into playing DND, and since I'm also trying to get back into interacting with people on this site, I'd figure I'd share with y'all my new-ish hobby of making dice!

For about a year I've been seeing a lot of Instagram reels of people pouring resin into molds and inking the numbers of their homemade dice, and I've always been inspired and mesmerized by these videos. And it just so happens that right before the new year I was gifted the materials to make my own resin dice! So here's what I've made in the last few months (lots of info-dumping/interest sharing under the cut):

This was my very first attempt, done specifically as a test run without any sort of pressure to look good. I was going for an oxidized copper look, but the dye cured much lighter than I expected (though it's a translucent dye so I really shouldn't have been surprised), so in the end I got more of an amber color, which I'm honestly not mad about!

I also mixed in some green glitter, since that was the only other additive I had received other than the dye, and it looks alright, but a lot of the chunkier pieces did sink to one side, so I haven't used it since. The numbers are green to compliment the glitter, and I'm happy with how it turned out, although honestly I could have gone with any other color and they would probably still look good!

At the time, I didn't have a pressure pot to cure it in, so there are some pretty significant bubbles (if you look closely you can see a big chunk missing out of the top of the d4), but there honestly weren't as many as I was expecting! Overall, while these dice are nothing special and aren't very interesting visually to look at, for my first set I'm very proud of them! 6.5/10 dice

At this point, I had bought a pressure pot, so I was feeling more confident in my ability to produce more polished dice. This set was inspired by my first ever DND character (who I recreated as my first Tav in Baldur's Gate 3), a wood elf barbarian/druid named Thaedhel. This reminds me that I haven't talked about Thaedhel on this account at all, which is weird considered I even commissioned some dope art for her, so note to self that I need to make a post gushing about her at some point XD

Anyways, back to the dice. This... was my fourth attempt, and I'm still not pleased with the results. That being said, my goals for this set are lofty, so it's still just a work in progress. This attempt has the best color; I was able to achieve a deep forest green that the previous sets lacked, and the white plumes (meant to represent moonlight for a moon druid) turned out beautifully! The white dye is not translucent, so I had issues before with cloudiness, but this is the best result yet. There's even a pinch of glow-in-the-dark mica powder in the white, so the dice actually glow blue once activated by blacklight! Unfortunately I don't have a picture of that, but maybe once I've perfected them!

Now, for the gripes. For one thing, there's a small red flower in the center of each dice, which unfortunately got swallowed up by the dyes and are only visible from specific angles. I now know that I should have included a clear resin window to keep them from getting lost, so that will be fixed in the future. But for the most part, I was happy with them; I had bought a new mold that included a barrel and crystal d4, and once I took them out I thought they had cured nicely, especially since there were no bubbles to be seen. That is, until I inked in the numbers. I wanted to paint all of the numbers copper except for the highest number on each dice, which is a nice bloody red to represent barbarian rage. But once I started to paint them, I realized how deformed these dice truly were; warped, uneven edges and rough faces that made it impossible to cleanly ink the numbers. The picture actually hides it relatively well, but in person these are some messy dice. Oh, well. Looks like I've got some work to do. 4/10 for the color scheme and not much else.

This is my magnum opus, and it's only about two-weeks old. Inspired by my current character, a tiefling bard named Enyo, I was so pleased with how these turned out, both structurally and in terms of color, that I've actually used them in the last couple of sessions (the d20 is 'moderately lucky,' according to my DM). By far, they're my favorite set!

This was my first time using mica powder as a colorant instead of dye, and it looks sooo good in person. I chose the red metallic powder for her Infernal heritage, and the purple powder is for bardic magic. It's color-shifting powder, too, so in person there's greens and reds that pop out of the purple if the light hits in the right way! But imo, inking the numbers is what really brings the set together, and gold felt appropriately classy and regal, plus it pops like crazy! The pictures truly don't do it justice.

This was made with the same mold as the Thaedhel set, and this time I made sure to give the dice some extra time to harden before I pried them out of the mold (I'm guessing that's why the first set came out so misshapen, I am not a patient person lol). It's not a flawless set; there are still a couple of bubbles despite using the pressure pot, but luckily they're not noticeable. And while I wish the two colors had interacted better (I wanted more of a fiery-pluming effect but they ended up mixing and pooling more than I wanted), I still think they came out beautifully and I genuinely can't stop touching and looking at them whenever I see them. Truly some shiny goblin rocks if I ever saw 'em. It's a 9/10 for me.

[thetinyreviews]

The Uncensored Picture of Dorian Gray Chapter 7

This is a collection of my favourite quotes and thoughts about them.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 6, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13

"I owe a great deal to Harry, Basil," he said at last, "more than I owe to you. You only taught me to be vain." "Well, I am punished for that, Dorian, or shall be some day." Dorian Gray & Basil Hallward Page 139

The way Dorian is so full of himself that he can't see that Basil is trying to teach him how to be loved.

"You people who go in for being consistent have just as many moods as others. The only difference is that your moods are rather meaningless." Dorian to Basil Page 143

I will never like Dorian Gray

Hallward shuddered in spite of himself. "Dorian, if I told you, you might like me less than you do, and you would certainly laugh at me. I could not bear your doing either of those two things. If you wish me never to look at your picture again, I am content. I have always you to look at. If you wish the best work I have ever done to be hidden from the world, I am satisfied. Your friendship is dearer to me than any fame or reputation." Basil to Dorian Page 143

I HAVE ALWAYS YOU TO LOOK AT????? I would have married Basil on the instant if I were Dorian

"(…) Well, from the moment I met you, your personality had the most extraordinary influence over me. I quite admit that I adored you madly, extravagantly, absurdly. I was jealous of every one to whom you spoke? I wanted to have you all to myself. I was only happy when I was with you. When I was away from you, you were still present in my art. It was all wrong and foolish. It is all wrong and foolish still. (…) One day I determined to paint a wonderful portrait of you. It was to have been my masterpiece. It is my masterpiece. But, as I worked at it, every flake and film of colour seemed to me to reveal my secret. There was love in every line, and in every touch there was passion. I grew afraid that the world would know of my idolatry. (…) Art is more abstract than we fancy. Form and colour tell us of form and colour, that is all. It often seems to me that art conceals the artist far more completely than it ever reveals him. (…) As I said to Harry, once, you are made to be worshipped." Basil’s confession to Dorian Pages 144-145

I cut most parts of the confession and put only my favourite sentences (because I'm a lazy person) and it broke me. It's amazing that in one confession we can see the evolution of Basil's love for Dorian but also how he resigned himself to the fact that this love will always be unrequited... he still loves him so deeply despite everything

"That is not even a compliment." "It was not intended as a compliment. It was a confession." "A very disappointing one." Dorian & Basil Page 146

I know "confession" here isn't only for the romantic confession but because Dorian expected something juicy he could exploit to hide the painting and was disappointed. BUT I still hate him with all my guts.

[creatively-cosmic]

Hi Starry, I’m back! :D

I’m glad you like the questions and that they aren’t annoying, because every bit of lore I read is like a taking a shot of dopamine lmao. And that picture of Fire getting a hug 🥹 brightened up my whole day. Trust me when I say that you guys reposting pictures and adding content to older ones isn’t obnoxious in the slightest. The art (at least for me) makes it easier to digest and form connections about the story in my head, plus y’alls art is great—who wouldn’t want to look at it? The lore/art in the last one was particularly interesting. (Like, young Red looks like such an polite, upstanding citizen and then you scroll down two pages and now it’s like “Tf you lookin crazy for”? Was that an implication that Steven had something to do with Red going missing/becoming Glitchy? And Leaf is funking DEAD?-)

Anyways, you know what that means! Question time: Leaf Edition!

The First (and most obvious) question: What happened to Leaf? Why is the homegirl dead? (Why was Leaf being dead, out of all the things I’ve seen so far, the one thing I wasn’t expecting?)

Second: What’s the relationship between Leaf, Fire and Blue? You said that Blue and Fire’s murder-suicide loop was spurred on by her death, so were they friends before she died? Did they see it?

And two smaller questions: How tall are the main four (Red, Blue, Fire, Leaf)? And do they have Pokémon Teams? If so, what are their teams looking like?

That’s all till next time! Have a good day/afternoon/night wherever you are!

TUMBLR FUCKING CRASHED HALFWAY THROUGH ANSWERING THIS ASK IM SO MAD FUCK. FUCKKK

We honestly can't thank you enough for all your questions, compliments, and just overall being a huge sweetheart. We're really happy you've been enjoying these, and whatever dopamine you get from seeing these, we probably get like. TENFOLD, just for seeing someone so interested, and giving us a chance to talk about this wild ride of a story. So really- thank you. This has been a delight!

This one is gonna be REALLY long (I have to rewrite fucking HALF OF IT now DAMMIT), as we want to talk on the stuff you crossed out, too.

(I'll put their heights and teams in a follow-up post btw, so watch for that.)

1. Red.

Young Red is an interesting point in time. See, he and Blue had a LOT in common- a lot more than you might think. Of course, Red was a good kid, genuinely- always so caring for his Pokemon, kind and passionate about them. He was polite to the people around him, and always soft spoken, when or if he spoke at all. The adults around Kanto and his hometown always adored him for how well mannered he seemed- a real role model, and stand up child. Just a bit shy.

In all truth though, Red moreso had a very strong mask. One that he only dropped, allowing himself to relax and act like himself around one person: his best friend, Blue.

Both of those boys were a lot more immature and competitive with each other- the main difference being Blue didn't hide it like Red did. They LOVED competing, always trying to one up each other in everything they did. When they were together, Red wasn't afraid to speak his mind, signing or whispering to his friend with a smug grin on his face. Around his friend, Red could really be himself, and they both loved it. Having so much fun, roughhousing and taking jabs and just being children around each other. A lot of people, when seeing this, would assume Blue- who was always rude and a bit more standoffish- was a bad influence, but really, the two couldn't be happier than they were with each other.

... When you spend God knows how long, trapped in a dimension with no human life, desperate and angry with unholy forces eating away at your mind, will, and sanity. Let's just say masking doesn't end up staying a necessary skill. A good portion of why Red being Like That now is honestly? Just because he just gave up on trying to make himself presentable.

He has bigger problems now than worrying about how people see him, anyways.

2. Steven.

I'll try to keep this short, as the Strangled Red elements of this story could warrant it's own post entirely.

To put it simply: Steven is, in part, directly responsible for Red's fate.

It wasn't HIS decision, mind you. He barely even thinks for himself anymore. But there were things that wanted Red, and Steven is very suggestible when it takes the right approach. So it lays itself out so simply.

Red trusted Steven, after all. Idolized him. Missed him. Would follow him anywhere. What better possible option could there be?

Of course Steven is the one to drown that boy on the coast of Cinnabar.

3. Leaf. (cw for animal death.)

Finally, the star of the show for this ask (as if this isn't long enough already). I can see why the information for her is more supriding as we haven't posted as much for her, which. We do feel bad about- our ability and motivation to make art for her was severely hindered by our struggle (I'm talking MONTHS) to make a design for her that we were happy with. Her story is WELL figured out, though, so we're glos we get to discuss! And now that her design is actually finalized, there should be more visual stuff for her coming.

So what happened?

Well! As is the entire premise of Missing Numbers, each major individual is based off of various Pokepastas. The easiest way to answer that is one of two of Leaf's sources:

Abandoned Loneliness.

But first, we have to go further back.

Fire was not the only Vessel made by the Almighty.

... He was the first, and the favorite. But he wasn't the only one. Leaf was the other.

Once Fire had come to Palette town, the next Game was set to begin any time now. But as the Almighty looked down on the world, He looked back at the others that had been built, and realized that the new Kanto was missing something. An alternative option. Though He was reluctant to change the structure of the world, it was, by all means, an improvement, and something the Players would expect after the past Generations.

She was less meticulously made than her brother. She kept her Heart and Mind about her, as there wasn't time, nor was it safe, to rid her of them like Fire. She would serve well enough as a Vessel regardless- and she did, as when the Game began, Leaf was chosen as the player's Avatar. (Not quite what the Almighty had expected, but the choice had been given for a reason, so it would be foolish to change anything now...)

Blissfully unaware of the nature of her existence, Leaf proceeded to go on a triumphant adventure through Kanto.

This is a good time, before we get back to the tragedy, to answer your second question!

Leaf, Blue, and Fire's dynamic changed throughout their journey through Kanto. At the beginning, let's just say things were... Tense.

Fire acted hollow, in the beginning, as he was meant to. Genuinely, it was fully expected that he'd be chosen as the players Avatar. So without it, he was left... Quiet and cold. It seemed he didn't care for anyone- not Blue, nor his sister.

Blue, meanwhile, was NOT in a good headspace. But at this point, after about two years passed since Red's dissapearance, he'd learned to hide those feelings. The people of Palette town, including his Rivals, knew him as this bitter, irritable person, resentful towards the world for incomprehensible reasons.

Leaf was the only "normal" one, basically. A cheerful, excited girl, whose heart bled for everyone she cared about and always tried to stand for the right thing. She didn't know where she came from... She had no memories of her life before "Red" and Hazel (Fire's mother) Yuuji found her, seemingly abandoned in the tall grass just outside of Palette Town, under the falling autumn leaves. Taken in as a part of their family, she grew attracted quickly, her loyalty and love and impulsive need to protect coming to be what she was known for.

With all this given, when the journey started. Leaf HATED Blue- he seemed to despise and bully her brother more than anyone. Blue didn't like Leaf much either, but wasn't as harsh towards her as he was Fire. Fire was as... Neutral as ever. But he silently followed the two once they went out, almost as if he wanted to watch over them. Ensure their safety.

As the journey continued, over time, away from the stuffiness of their hometown, the three started to grow closer. Maybe the fresh air was doing Blue good. Maybe Leaf was learning more about the world. Maybe Fire's deep brown eyes were growing warmer.

Somehow, a death was the tipping point for all of them to finally become friends. It's absurd, how grief was the thing driving them apart, but ultimately went to bring them together.

When Blue's Raticate died, he quickly fell back to his lowest point. Angry and hateful and heartbroken, lashing out, and ultimately running away. ... But it put everything in perspective. Through all her guilt (it was in a fight against her, after all, that the Raticate had been so severely injured), Leaf suddenly understood why Blue had been so horrible before: he was mourning. And he needed someone. It didn't make her forgive him, but it made her extend a hand.

And for once, knelt over the grave of a lost Pokemon, Blue accepted it. From that act of kindness, Blue genuinely began to get along with the others, and slowly, the trio came to be friends- all the way up to and after the Championship, where despite losing again, Blue felt closer to the others than ever.

... It seems in this world, good things don't last.

The events of Abandoned Loneliness happened several months after Leaf became champion. When revisiting Raticate's grave with Blue, Leaf came across a peculiar Pokemon- a horribly sickly little Eevee, too weak to even cry. Leaf had never been the kind to leave a Pokemon in need to fend for itself- kindly, she took the little stray into her care, determined to nurse it back to health.

The properties of Glitched or Corrupted Pokemon aren't something I need to dive into right now this is already ungodly long. What's important is that the Eevee was not a natural Pokemon. It should've been dead.

It always starts with a Pokemon that should've been dead.

Let's just say... Everything unraveled from there. Fully explaining what the events of Abandoned Loneliness translates to in Missing Numbers isn't something I have the energy to write at the moment (this is so long and I've been putting off finishing it cause I'm still mad all my initial writing got deleted >_<).

The important part comes down to Leaf's demise at the hands of this "curse." Bonded to that sickly little Eevee, when the world pushed her to put it out of its misery- voices of the damned screaming, unbearable, suffocating, demanding she DO IT DO IT DO IT, you can't bear to watch it suffer anymore, after all... The destiny bond it held her in dragged her down with it.

Nobody witnessed her death. She was alone and isolated at the foot of a mountain. She thought she could solve everything herself. Thought she could handle it all.

Her body was only found days later, curled up on the ground, rotting blood seeping from her eyes, with the body of the poor little Eevee in her arms. Trapped and suffocated by the hands that killed it. It was far too late. To maje it worse, her friends were the first to know of her death.

Fire was the one who found her body, after all.

Leaf's demise was a SEVERE breaking point, and unlike Fire, she didn't get a chance to be revived by God. Her modern presence in the world was not... Authorized, let's just say. Leaf had to claw and fight to keep hold of herself and climb back to existence in ways unprecedented, and believed to be impossible. But despite being a corrupted entity, her body was stable. And so, rather than Smite her as he would other Glitches, the Almighty decided to make good of an unintended situation: He could make use of her. A man on the inside is a powerful tool, after all.

So long as He kept her anger for her fate targeted towards the "true" threats.

I could keep going but I've babbled on way too much already for this post lol. I'm so sorry about the delay on this one- life REALLY got in the way. And Tumblr's buggy ass mobile app 💀

hopefully i can elaborate more without any crashing in the next round if there is one ashfshf