#wanted to make some drawings before packing my tablet

[toastspirit]

ON TO NEW EXPERIENCES

(little doodle comics under the cut)

...

[diana-thyme]

SUPER Low Energy Witchcraft

I’ve been seeing a lot of low energy witchcraft posts, but every one I read isn’t really low energy. When I think ‘low energy,’ I think something I can do on my lowest of low days. Days I can’t get out of bed or even think sometimes. So here it is. The SUPER Low Energy Witchcraft Guide.

Sigils sites. I have found this one to be very good. They’ll make a sigil for you so you don’t have to.

Pinterest boards. Making spells or manifesting using Pinterest boards is one of my favorite things to do.

Spotify playlists. Similar to the Pinterest board idea, use songs to create spells or manifest certain things.

Emoji spells. Use emojis to make spells, making sure they’re packed with intent.

Hang out with your tarot deck. Or any divination tool, for that matter. Just having it near you counts.

Talking to spirits and deities. Tell them about something you plan to do for them, a ritual you’d like help with, ask for help getting through the lows, etc. Or just talk to them. It doesn’t matter about what, talking improves relationships.

Read. Read books you were planning on reading. Definitely do not ever go on Z-Library for free books. Never. /s You do have limits on downloading and it’s relatively hard to figure out on mobile, but if you can get your tablet or computer up and running, it’ll work perfectly.

Scroll through Tumblr. Or Reddit. Or Pinterest. Or even Tik Tok. Scroll through the witch tags, scroll through the tags of and deities you might worship/work with. Or just look at pretty plants. Think about what they can help you with.

Make a shopping list. If you need to restock any herbs or candles, note it down.

Just light a candle or two. Simple as that.

Make a pouch or enchant a piece of jewelry or whatever you want to do to help you recover from your lows before they happen. Touch them or hold them or even just think of them when you want.

Similar to above, enchant any aids (mobility aids, medication, pain relievers, heating pads and ice packs, etc.) to help you recover faster.

If you can, think about your practice, what you want to change, what you 100% wouldn’t change, how it relates to others’ crafts, etc.

Meditate. I’m not talking about some 30 minute guided meditation sitting upright, because I have trouble with them on my lows. I’m talking about staring blankly into space or practicing mindfulness or something like that. You don’t have to do it for long, either. Take a few minutes to chill.

If you can, open your windows. Or curtains. Or blinds. Let it clear out your space.

Enchant your water or foods to help with your symptoms. Draw a sigil with anything (oil, sharpie, air, etc.) on your bottles and above your food to aid in your recovery.

Wash your face and/or hands to cleanse yourself for the day.

Have a ‘worry stone.’ Take a crystal or rock or other stone and rub it when you’re anxious. Or, enchant it to remove negative energies and rub it when your pain is at the worst. The very least it will do is distract you.

Simply rest. Resting and taking some time to recover is the best practice.

Obviously this isn’t a large list, but I cannot emphasize the ‘simply rest’ part enough. As practitioners, we tend to want to do more when we’re sitting bored in bed. But remember, safety first. The quicker you recover, the quicker you can get back to your craft.

[wayward-dreamer]

Pillow Talk

Pairing: Soldier Boy x F!Reader

Word count: 1,782

Summary: After a stressful meeting lead by Stan Edgar, Y/N looks forward to her other weekly meeting that is far more enjoyable.

Warnings: Swearing, implied smut: oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it up people), pillow talk turned dirty talk, vaginal fingering

A/N: I started writing this after that Gen V ep, but a lot of things got in the way of me finishing it. Happy reading, hope y'all like it! :) beta'd by my love @hintsofhoney

Y/N yawned, covering her mouth with her hand as she scribbled random drawings on the paper in front of her with a black pen. She was bored out of her mind as Mr. Edgar addressed everyone in the meeting, something about the latest demographic numbers for the supes and she was meant to be taking notes about it all, but she lost track. Whoever decided it was a good idea to have a meeting at the end of the day on a Friday was an idiot. Another few minutes of this and she could leave, once the clock ticked over to 5pm and the weekend was officially upon them. She kept glancing up at the time, her heeled foot shaking in anticipation for a regular meeting of her own that she was excited to get to.

Ever since Vought’s Christmas party a few months ago, when she caught the attention of Soldier Boy and they spent the night together, she’d leave the Friday meeting, pack up her things and get her night started with him. It was never anything serious between them, just some fun between them every week, and that was exactly what she needed.

A smile came to her face as she got lost in thought about everything he had in store for her, just as Mr. Edgar dismissed everyone for the weekend. She picked up her things and walked out behind all the male employees who she couldn’t stand. She was Mr. Edgar’s assistant but there were times that she was forced to do tasks some of the other suits wanted her to do, no matter how much she protested. They were all arrogant, entitled assholes who only wanted one thing when they looked at her, and even though Soldier Boy was no different because he also was a man of his time, at least he never pretended to be anything else around her.

Y/N walked back to her desk and put everything on top, ready to collect once she decided to leave, before she made her way down the hallway towards the loft apartments where the supes resided. She stopped in front of the door marked with “Soldier Boy” in gold letters, turning the knob and letting herself in, which was what she always did considering the door was unlocked after 5pm just for her. As she strolled into the apartment, she unbuttoned and took off her gray blazer, draping it over the back of one of the armchairs, smiling at the sound of a Sinatra song coming from the record player in the corner.

“Right on time,” she heard his deep, rough voice enter the room as he walked from his bedroom to the bar.

She turned around, a shiver running down her back as she took in his appearance. “I’m nothing if not punctual.”

Soldier Boy smirked as he poured a generous amount of whiskey into two tumblers, moving out from behind the bar as he sauntered over to her, his suit unzipped and revealing the white t-shirt he was wearing underneath. He swiped something off the surface before he stood in front of her, handing her a glass.

“After the day I’ve had, I really need this,” she said, turning the tumbler around in her hand. “Cheers.”

He clinked his glass against hers, a grin on his face as he watched her take a few sips. He held up the small, plastic bag with a handful of pills inside, waving it in front of her eyes which had her pause drinking, their gazes locked on each other.

“Anything else you really need?”

“Yes,” she breathed, her mouth opening slightly.

They kept their eyes on each other as he took out two of the small, round tablets from the bag. She stuck her tongue out a little, making him groan at the sight as he placed one of the pills on it, watching her swallow it down and taking a sip of her whiskey. He continued to stare at her as he tossed the tablet back with a swig of his drink, frowning as he saw her put her now empty glass down as she began to unbutton her blouse.

“You know that’s my job, doll,” he husked, his eyes darkened as he looked at her. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

He wasted no more time as he threw back the rest of the amber liquid, tossing the glass behind him and hearing it shatter, unbothered by the scattered pieces across the floor. He moved towards her, pulling her roughly into his arms as he pressed his lips to hers, the kiss as searing and erotic as all their previous encounters. He grasped her shirt in his hands, ripping it down the front, a squeal escaping her as the buttons flew everywhere. By now he usually had her on the bed, on her back with her legs thrown over his shoulders, but he had other plans for her as he pushed her down on the sofa. The fingers of one hand curled into the leather as the other moved between the soft locks of his hair, his head between her thighs and making her come undone in no time at all as she screamed his name and covered his mouth in her arousal.

Before she could fully comprehend what was happening, Soldier Boy gathered her in his strong arms and carried her over to the dining table, roughly dropping her down on the surface as their hands frantically pulled off the rest of each other’s clothes. With her back meeting the cold wood of the table and her legs wrapped around his waist, she moaned wantonly as he thrusted into her, moving faster and harder with every mutter of his name from her lips. It wasn’t long before she reached the peak for a second time, a giggle of disbelief leaving her as she came down from her high.

They made it to the bed eventually. With one last release from her triggering his, they came together as he grunted, a smirk pulling at his lips when he felt the way he spilled inside her walls. He rolled off her, her nimble fingers plucking the sheet up and pulling it over them, just as he reached for the cigarettes on his nightstand. He took one out of the pack and placed it between his lips, picking up his lighter and flicking it, bringing the small flame to the tip. He took a long drag before he blew it out, closing his eyes in satisfaction as he felt Y/N take the cigarette from between his fingers. As he opened them, he turned to look at her, watching the way she held it between her own fingers, the way her lips closed around the filter.

“Well, you really know how to take my mind off things, that’s for damn sure,” she stated, laughing softly as she placed the cigarette in the ashtray that sat on the nightstand.

“It’s a fucking gift,” he grinned. “Better take a breather, ‘cause I ain't done with you yet, sugar.”

She smiled, a small sigh escaping her as she thought back on the day. “It’s a good thing we keep this little rendezvous of ours on a Friday because those meetings are slow, agonizing torture.”

“I’m guessing it was a meeting with Stan?” he asked, leaning in and pressing a kiss to her neck.

“Yeah,” she replied, a small gasp falling from her lips as he continued to nip at her skin. “He just stresses me out about everything.”

She tried to resist him as he nuzzled at her neck, trying to move further down, but she eventually gave in with a low moan. Her eyes closed as her head fell back against the pillow, feeling his lips move down her collarbone and pull the sheet down, exposing her breasts to him. Her eyebrows furrowed as he nipped and sucked at her flesh, his tongue circling over her nipple.

“Handling the supes is getting to be too much as well, thanks to him,” she muttered, biting down on her lip as she tried to move away from him.

She could feel herself getting lost to his skillful tongue and fingers, but the second round he was trying to start needed to wait. She was only human, and didn’t have the same stamina he had as a supe.

He lifted his head, releasing the stiff bud with a wet pop, staring down at her. “Even me?”

“Especially you,” she countered, a mischievous smile pulling at her lips.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he began, his signature smirk on his face as his hand drifted down under the sheets, moving between her legs and feeling how wet she was again. Their eyes locked as he teased her folds with his fingers, causing her to gasp and a deep, rough chuckle to escape him as he didn’t take his gaze off her. “I think you’re pretty fucking capable of handling all of me.”

“Stop,” she giggled, trying and failing to push him away.

“You’re the one who can’t stay away, doll.”

“Maybe I should,” she challenged, lifting an eyebrow as she looked up at him.

Soldier Boy’s green eyes darkened with lust, and something else she had no desire to identify. A short gasp of pleasure escaped her as his thumb brushed over her clit, his intense stare never leaving her as the digit circled around the bundle of nerves. Her eyes fluttered closed as a long, drawn out moan left her mouth, his fingers sinking into her tight heat.

“See… if you did that, then you wouldn’t be right here, with my fingers fucking into your tight little pussy,” he grunted, his jaw tight as he looked down at her through hooded eyes.

Y/N didn’t recognize the sound she made as he started to thrust his fingers into her, maybe it was a moan, but it was a shrill cry, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she was giving into him once more. As she always did whenever she found herself back here, every single Friday.

“You always come back to a little… pillow talk, don’t ya, sugar?”

The words were just above a whisper, the rough timbre of his voice causing a shiver to run down her back as she wrapped her arm around his neck, holding onto him as she nodded, letting him pleasure her in every way he wanted. He knew she had only been teasing him when she said she’d stay away from him. They both knew her resolve wasn’t that strong.

She wasn’t going to give up this little ritual of theirs any time soon.

[wrangleandtame]

A Distinct Hook Echo (Finally)

Tyler vowed to kiss her tonight. This was getting ridiculous. He’d clutched the handle of her suitcase at that airport instead of grabbing her around the waist and sweeping her into a dramatic kiss. Kate had practically shot up flares and waved him in using airplane marshaling wands, and he still just stared at her mouth like an idiot.

All afternoon, as they pursued storms across muggy Oklahoma fields, he’d squandered every opportunity to cup the back of her neck and draw her into an adrenaline-veneered kiss; each golden moment slipping through his fingers like so much hematitic Oklahoma dirt.

Her rebooked flight departed in the morning, so when the last possible tornado of the day busted out, they stumbled across a familiar motel and agreed to clean up and get some rest.

“Kate?” He stopped her as she began to trudge up the motel stairs, and she spun to face him.

“Can I take you out to dinner?” He casually pulled a piece of grass hay from her hair. “Pretty sure the only place open is the Shady Grady bar across the street, so I can’t guarantee the quality of the meal, but -“

“Eight o’clock?”

He nodded, “eight o’clock.”

At seven-thirty, he entered the bar determined to stow his uncharacteristic jitters and make a goddamned move.

As far as romantic settings go, Tyler figured he’d just have to make the most of the meager atmosphere. Music blared from a cheap sound system, filling the establishment with muted, cracked versions of modern country ballads. The stale air smelled of peanuts, alcohol, and overtly perfumed customers.

He promptly spotted Kate, who smiled at him from a booth across the room; those globular brown eyes drew him to her like tractor beams. He strode confidently through a packed dance floor of denim, cowboy hats, and clacking boots on the oak floor.

“You’re early,” he said and slid into the high-backed wood booth.

“So are you,” she observed with a grin.

Honey-lit by the poorly attempted ambient lighting, her hair glowed golden, her mascara-dressed eyes the dark rich mahogany of the drink in the tumbler before her.

He’d grown accustomed to seeing Kate in two states of being: completely disheveled or freshly scrubbed. Witnessing the polished version stirred within him a fresh yearning. Radiant in her simple black silk camisole, small gold hoop earrings, and glossy lips, she’d pinned half her hair up, the remaining falling in blonde waves brushing her shoulders.

“You’re always beautiful Kate,” he tried not to behave as gobsmacked as he felt. “But tonight, you’re goddamned stunning.”

“Pretty dapper yourself.”

In reality, the only difference in his appearance from his usual attire was the addition of a soft caramel blazer, and, of course, the efforts she couldn’t see: his frantic pre-date preparations of trimming his nose hairs, whitening his teeth, manicuring his junk, clipping his toenails and spraying on some Dior Sauvage.

He tore his eyes from her to examine the laptop, tablet, binder, notebook and phone strewn across the table, “what’s all this?”

She shrugged, “I wanted to rework some things before my presentation, and the motel’s wifi is garbage.”

“Making any progress?” he seized a yellow legal pad and scanned her neatly written notes.

“Not really,” she admitted. “Would you want to do a read-through? Let me know what you think? I don’t want to get this wrong.”

“Course I would. But, I’d bet the farm you’re overthinkin’ it.”

“You’ve got to have a farm to bet first.”

“I do.”

“You do?”

“Mmhm. Send it to me; I’ll read it tonight.”

She tapped at the keys, presumably texting the file to him, and without looking up she said, “I’m actually glad you’re early.”

“Oh yeah,” he smiled, “why’s that?”

She quickly evaluated their immediate surroundings and leaned in, lowering her voice, “Some mega creep isn’t taking no for an answer; he keeps circling me like I’m roadkill.”

“Need me to scare him off?”

“Need? No. Want? Very much so.”

“I can do that,” he smiled widely.

She tilted her head, “why do you look so eager?”

“I like bein’ useful to you.”

“Have I not told you how incredibly useful I find you?”

“Not near enough,” he retained his eyes on her, memorizing her face at this moment.

The creep suddenly appeared at their table, too tall and too attractive, Tyler decided, with dark hair and bright blue eyes.

He placed a glass of liquor in front of Kate, ignoring Tyler’s presence altogether. "Hey there, beautiful. Woodford Reserve, neat, right?”

“Well that’s mighty generous of you,” Tyler drawled, snatched the glass and downed the drink in one swallow, slamming the empty tumbler back on the table. “This sure is a friendly town.”

Megacreep seethed, “That wasn’t for you!”

“Oh, my apologies,” Tyler feigned confusion. “When you said ‘beautiful,’ I thought you were talkin’ to me.”

Kate chortled and covered it by clearing her throat.

“Who the fuck are you?” Megacreep snarled at him.

“Now here I thought sure you were a fan of mine,” Tyler declared. “I get a lot of free drinks from my fans.”

“Is this your fella?” MegaCreep asked Kate.

She gazed at Tyler, her eyes shining affectionately, “there is a distinct and growing possibility.”

He smirked, “hear that buddy? I’m a growin’ possibility.”

“You’re a dick.”

“Been called worse. Today even.”

Kate chuckled, and Megacreep stepped towards her, pointing his large finger at her, “what kinda bitch doesn’t say she’s got a boyfriend?”

Tyler stood in a blink, placing himself physically between Kate and Megacreep. Arms akimbo and his voice cold, Tyler practically growled, “you’re gonna walk away now. Nope, no, don’t look at her. Don’t talk to her. Walk the fuck away. Go on now.”

Megacreep stared him down for a moment, as though considering his options. Despite Megacreep’s height advantage, Kate wasn’t too concerned; Tyler’s sturdy presence and irrepressible conviction imbued the intimidating impression that he wouldn’t at all require height.

“What a waste,” Megacreep snarled, and stomped away like a pissed toddler. Tyler didn’t move, his eyes glued to the guy until he fully exited the bar.

His relaxed posture returned immediately, and he slid back into the vinyl seat across from her.

“You white knighted me,” she teased warmly.

“Yeah, yeah, let’s get back to that distinct possibility you were talkin’ about.”

She laughed, “Tyler, I’m leaving in the morning.”

“But you’re comin’ back.”

“Probably.”

He scowled, “what do you mean ‘probably’? You’re not thinkin’ about staying in New York? You don’t belong in New York, Kate.”

“Why’s that?”

He appeared personally aggrieved and more than a little irritated, “you’re tellin’ me you’d be happier in New York? I mean, your face when we’re out there in those fields? You light up like a firefly in June! You sure as shit aren’t letting us do this without you.”

She blinked softly at him.

Relief dressed his face, “you enjoyin’ watchin’ me squirm?”

“Lil’ bit,” She shrugged.

“Sadist.”

She laughed. Under the gloLike cozying beside a crackling fire on a chilly evening, it was impossible not to feel a deep warmth and joy under the glow of his full attention.

He regarded her, “seriously, Kate, you’re a fuckin’ knockout.”

“Thank you,” she responded, oddly flustered from his blatant admiration; she glanced at her drink and then back up at his ridiculously handsome face. She couldn’t think what else to say. Her mother always christened Kate as bilingual, in that she spoke English and sass fluently. Charm, however, she could never harness. Tyler Owens had a master’s degree.

Initially, upon meeting Tyler, she attempted minimal eye contact to avoid the unnerving fever of his beauty. Quickly though, he disarmed her hesitancy with his earnest altruism and overflowing enthusiasm, and she’d been forced to become accustomed to his excessively good looks.

“Jesus Christ, what kind of whiskey are you drinking?” He peered into her tumbler, feeling slightly buzzed. “Shit’s strong.”

“It’s just bourbon.”

“Bourbon?” He raised his eyebrows. “You a mafia kingpin or a nineteen fifties ad exec?”

She smiled, “I like bourbon. My grandfather used to give me little sips as a kid. Misguided as he was, I think I developed a taste for it.”

Kate’s reticence about her life enflamed Tyler’s natural delight in discovery. Every tidbit, every newly uncovered piece of the Kate-puzzle felt like a win, "Is he still alive, your grandfather?”

As she started to answer, a sudden vertiginous wave pummeled him, and he placed his palms on the table for stability.

“Tyler, are you okay?”

He squinted, a sleepy warmth spread through his limbs, “I had exactly one drink, your drink, and that was it.”

“What does that mean; are you feeling sick?”

His jaw muscles clenched, and his eyebrows drew together as though he deliberated on something difficult or painful.

“Tyler?” She reached across the table, placing her hand atop his. “Answer me. Are you okay?”

He met her eyes and fumed, “I think that skyscraper-sized predator roofied your drink.”

“What? Seriously?”

“I’m going to feed him his fuckin’ teeth,” he stood, irate, and then immediately sat back down, “after the room stops spinning.”

“Oh my god. We should, we should get you to the hospital,” she slammed her laptop lid closed and started shoveling everything into her messenger bag.

“I don’t need a hospital.”

“You don’t know what he put in there, or more importantly, how much.”

“I don’t need a damn hospital,” he scowled. “I’m wasted. I’m not dying.”

Her face puckered in concern, “how do you feel?”

He shrugged, “tore up from the floor up.”

“If you won’t let me take you to the hospital, then we need to get you to your room before you pass out.”

“Not gonna pass out.”

“How do you know?” She tilted her head, “You been roofied before?”

“Course not.”

“Well I have, so I can tell you that we need to get you somewhere before you pass out. And fast.”

His face fell, “you’ve, Kate, you’ve been -“

“In college. I was fine. I was with friends who kept me safe. It happens more often than you can imagine. Now let’s get you out of here, because Tyler, I don’t think I can carry you.”

He swallowed, his face pained, “yeah, yeah okay.”

He rose to his feet and inhaled deeply while Kate wrapped her messenger bag across her body and stood, shoving her phone in her pocket.

“Here, put your arm around me in case you get woozy.”

“I know you’re strong Kate, but if I go down, it’s going to be like getting clobbered by a bald cypress.”

“Just do what I’m saying,” she gripped his hand and hung it around her shoulder and wrapped her arm around his waist.

“Bossy,” he grumbled.

“You like it,” she scoffed, “Pfft, a bald cypress. You think quite a lot of yourself.”

He chuckled and then he sighed, suddenly forlorn, “hey, I’m, I really didn’t imagine this is how our date would go.”

“Well maybe later you can tell me what you did imagine.”

“You flirtin’ with me?”

“For days now, Tyler. Let’s get out of here.”

They began the journey across the wooden floor, feet crunching upon the husks of peanut shells tossed aside, and to his credit, Tyler walked fairly well, despite his growing sense of instability. They weaved around the little square tables littered with empty beer bottles, shot glasses and crumpled cocktail napkins.

They both immediately glimpsed the sky as they exited the bar, habitually checking conditions. The fresh temperate air returned a sense of normalcy to the peculiar circumstances.

They crossed the deserted highway hand in hand, by the time they reached the stairs of the motel, Tyler felt he’d crossed the Rubicon, and plopped himself down on the bottom step.

“If you rest there, you’re going to end up staying there; get up, Tyler.”

“Alrighty,” he pulled himself up by the railing.

“Which room?”

“Hmm. Not sure actually,” he pointed at the entire row of motel rooms, his vision progressively more blurry.

“That’s alright. I need to keep an eye on you anyway. Let’s just go to mine,” she climbed the stairs behind him and then grasped his hand, guiding him into her room.

“Sit down,” she pointed at her bed, and he obliged obediently. For a clearly vain man, Tyler truly possessed very little ego. He never appeared slighted or emasculated by Kate’s leadership or expertise. From day one, he approached her as though her abilities very possibly exceeded his own. She couldn’t say the same for ninety-seven percent of her male colleagues, even those with years less experience and education. Tyler’s cocky assuredness should have translated into the typical arrogant know-it-all, but ever-surprisingly, his heart and mind opened to all ideas, and he easily credited those around him for his successes.

“Kate?”

“Yeah?” She unloaded her gear onto the dresser top and turned to face his distressed expression.

“I’m hammered, and I’m twice your size,” He frowned. “That drink would have knocked you out cold.”

“I know, Tyler.”

“He might’ve, I mean if you drank that instead of me, if I wasn’t there, he could’ve…” he appeared both furious and on the verge of tears.

“Yeah, I know,” she grimaced. “Try not to think about it.”

“I’m sorry, that this world, that you have to deal with shit like that.”

“It’s alright,” she leaned against the dresser.

“It’s, it’s not,” he scowled, “why aren’t you angry?”

“I am, I just don’t have any practical answers, and I’m more concerned about you right now.”

He stared at his hands for a moment, then looked up, “You can’t ever accept a drink from someone you don’t know, okay?”

“I don’t,” she informed him as she helped him remove his blazer.

“You don’t?”

“No. I learned the hard way, but I learned,” she hung his blazer on the back of the office chair.

“That’s good. That’s real good. I feel better. World still sucks, though.”

He laid back on the bed, looking at the ceiling and promptly fell asleep.

Kate watched him breathe for a few minutes, then unpacked her bags and briefly stepped out of the room to place a few phone calls.

A short time later, while Kate again read through her presentation, she heard Tyler stir and turned in her chair to check in on him.

“Oh shit,” he bolted upright, “Kate, what if that asshole goes down the road and roofies some other girl?”

“I called the cops.”

“What? When?”

“When you passed out a little bit ago. They asked me to file a report online, and they called the two bars in the area and gave them my description.”

“I didn’t pass out.”

“You did. For about forty-five minutes. You snored.”

He eyed her skeptically. Those eyes. Good lord, was there even a name for that color? Not in any crayola box she’d seen.

“You did,” she imagined an alternative method in discovering he snored, but quickly redirected her thoughts.

“Do you have to go to New York?” He slurred.

“I’ll be back.”

“When?”

“I’m not sure yet. Get some sleep Tyler.”

“Hey Kate?”

“Yes?”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you two dozen times since we met. Atleast.”

She cocked her head and grinned, “Well what’s the holdup Tyler Owens?”

He smiled softly, “I’ve put the horse before the cart a few times. Too many times. Guess I didn’t want to, you know, I didn’t want to fuck this up, you and me. I mean I’ve been thinkin’ about kissin’ you since the day I first saw you, your hair all pulled into that clip, wearin’ that buttoned-up outfit and that serious beautiful face. Mile high walls up, and then you speak, and you’re fuckin’ brilliant and a little snarky -“

“I’m not snarky.”

“The snarkiest. Your mother agrees with me on this.”

“Of course she does.”

“Shush, I’m tryin’ to woo you with my words since my goddamned body feels like goo.”

“Well then go on. You’re doing fine.”

“I am?”

“Oh yes.”

He beamed, “so like I was sayin’, I didn’t want to fuck it up, and then the first time I saw you smile, like really smile, well, shit, I was done for. And then I really didn’t want to fuck it up. And I thought tonight, I’m not gonna blow it, and now,” he sighed. “Well, I can’t kiss you while I’m shitfaced. Can’t actually feel my lips right now,” he closed his eyes and touched his lips. “There they are. Okay I can feel them.”

She stifled a laugh. His inebriated declaration moved her to match his bold honesty, “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone quite like you, and in case I haven’t made it very clear: I would like you to kiss me. Try not to worry on it. It’ll happen. And I’ll kiss you back, and then all of the other good things that come with that.”

He smiled, full teeth, “that is. S’wonderful. News.”

“Isn’t it?” She tried not to giggle. Even in this dingy motel room, Tyler practically glowed with health. Eternally sun-gilded, eyes that sparkled like a freshwater lake in summer, his sculpted body a vision of purpose.

He frowned, “what if I don’t remember?”

“I’ll remind you.”

“Promise?” His eyes so round he resembled what he must have looked like as a child.

“Cross my heart.”

“And you’re comin’ back?”

“Of course I’m coming back. The only thing I have in New York is a plant I’ve killed and replaced six times, a neighbor cat I pretend is mine, and workmates that think I don’t know their nickname for me is Elsa.”

“Who’s Elsa?”

“The snow queen.”

“You’re from Oklahoma.”

“It’s their terribly clever way of saying I’m an icy cold bitch.”

“What? But. You’re not. You’re kind and compassionate and who the fuck would think that?”

“It really doesn’t bother me,” she quietly thought on it for a moment. “This one guy, god he hates me, he hums, “let it go,” when I walk past him.”

“What’s that?”

“The song. You know.”

“How’s it go?”

Kate cleared her throat and hummed a few bars.

He shook his head “I don’t think I’ve heard it.”

“You’ve heard it,” Kate sang, “let it go, let it go, I don’t know the rest of the woooords.”

Mischief in his eyes, he smirked, “you’ve got a pretty voice.”

She laughed, “you shit, you know what song I’m talking about!”

“Course I know that song. I’m from Arkansas not Mars.”

She laughed and his heavy eyelids drooped again, “Tyler, go ahead and rest.

“Maybe just for a sec,” he stretched out across the bed and nearly instantly fell asleep again.

She turned back to her laptop and spent an hour extensively researching drugs used in date rapes, narrowing by state and then county. She reviewed the short and long term effects of the top three. Worst case scenarios always lapped her brain, and she found research could occasionally ease the anxiety. She tried reassuring herself that he likely metabolized quickly.

After an hour or so, he suddenly sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood.

She jumped up from her chair, “whoa, where you going?”

“Bathroom,” he closed one eye and pointed at the bathroom.

“Need help getting there?”

He used the edge of the bed as a handrail, working himself around it and closer to the bathroom, “I got it.”

She tried not to imagine him passing out and hitting his head as he shut the door. After he had flushed the toilet and the water ran for ten minutes Kate called through the door, “Tyler? You good?”

Tyler opened the door, shirtless, her toothbrush hanging out of his frothy mouth, “I’m good,” and he resumed brushing his teeth.

She eyed his white tee, button down and belt abandoned on the linoleum.

“Can’t stand my teeth feelin’ fuzzy,” he mumbled through a mouth full of toothpaste. He stopped brushing, eyes wide, “oh shit, this isn’t my toothbrush, cuz this isn't my room.”

She desperately attempted to retain her eyes on his face as she replied, “it’s fine.”

“What time is it?” He asked, post-gargle.

“Three AM.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“We should get some sleep.”

“That’s a great idea.”

He dropped to the bed like a felled tree, and seemed to find sleep immediately.

She attempted to wiggle his boots from his feet, which took quite a bit more effort than she anticipated, jostling him back awake in the process.

“Whatcha doin?” He raised to his elbows, watching her struggle with a fond amusement.

“Trying to help you,” she grunted, straddled his leg and yanking at the unmoving boot.

“You wanna help me, come on up here and cuddle me.”

She dropped his foot and peered at his lifted head, “Cuddle you?”

“Mmmhmm, c’mere Kate,” he held out his very attractive arms (that led to the rest of his very attractive body) to her as he easily toed off his boots.

She lowered herself next to him, and he pulled her flush against his chest, both strong arms wrapped around her. She adjusted slightly, and found herself unusually comfortable, given the hard terrain of his chisled chest.

“You clicked right into place like a lego; fit perfectly like you were made to go right here,” his voice rumbly from her location. “Legos click in, right? Did that make a damn bit of sense? Still feelin' a little smashed.”

His soft dark chest hair tickled her nose, “made sense and also accurate. Good job.”

“This’s nice. You smell nice. Like lemon merengue pie.”

“It’s my shampoo.”

He always smelled like everything she associated with love: wind-blown winter wheat fields, metallic dust, engine oil, earthy geosmin and crisp ozone. Tonight, his usual smells mixed with soap and that peppery manly cologne that seemingly every guy south of Nebraska wore.

She felt a bit self-conscious. Before this moment, they hadn’t even hugged. Strange to think, given how close she felt to him. The intimacy of having their bodies pressed against one another flicked inner switches she thought long dead. Shit, she hadn’t actually ��cuddled” with anyone in a long long while. In five years. Not since the last time Jeb -

“Stop thinkin’.”

“How do you know I’m thinking?”

“Can feel it in your body,” he ran one large hand down over her shoulder, along her torso, skimmed over her hip and back again. “Rest Kate.”

She very nearly moaned, and swallowed before answering, “I’ll try.”

“Relax your body. Listen to my heart. You’re okay. I’m okay. Let’s sleep.” he nuzzled the top of her head with his chin. “Rest Kate.”

She smiled into his chest.

“Goodnight Sapulpa.”

“Goodnight Tyler.”

A few minutes passed, and her eyes began to feel heavy and her limbs leaden.

She relaxed, but she didn’t fall asleep for quite some time, just listening to his deep breathing, her head and hand falling into the rhythm of his chest. His strong heart beat a steady consistent rhythm , and she’d have been lying to herself if she didn’t consider for just a moment, that she belonged right here, in his arms, on his chest: warm, safe, cared for. Who wouldn’t want that?

She glanced up at his sweet little mouth, open and letting out even puffs of air. Who wouldn’t want him?

Talk about putting the cart before the horse.

Besides, the logistics bordered on nightmarish. Sure, she wanted him. Badly. But, the last time she had attempted to fuck some idiot plagued her brain. She’d finally given it a go after three years in New York, not because her heart called out, but because her body demanded it. The moment the making out progressed into something more, her heart rate picked up, her body rife with confusion, launched her into a full-blown panic attack. She ended up shoving him off of her, locked herself in the bathroom, vomiting and hyperventilating for an hour. She’d Uber’d home and completely swore off dating after that. Hell, after that, she’d even consume a glass of wine before masturbating to avoid the possibility of bringing on another panic attack. Add to that, her Jeb-based survivor’s guilt tainted any bit of attraction she felt for other men. It just hadn’t been on her mind anymore. It didn’t seem possible, so she stopped caring.

That disastrous date occurred years ago; she attempted to reason with herself. She drove straight into tornadoes now for fuck’s sake! When did that become less frightening than fucking a man who nearly made her come every time he called her Sapulpa (stupidest nickname ever.) Tyler had awakened a desire in her she thought she’d fully cremated.

She feared even trying. Good lord, if it went well, though - wasn’t it worth the risk? Wasn’t he worth the risk?

She’d argued with herself in this fashion a dozen times in the last forty-eight hours.

She must have fallen asleep for an hour or two, but awoke at first light, the little spoon, his heavy arm draped across her waist, his palm under her shirt, tucked around her abdomen.

She checked her phone and her flight status: on time. Disappointment weighted her to the bed for another moment, before obligations began stacking in her brain, and she slipped from beneath him to ready herself and her belongings.

She considered waking him but settled on grabbing a pen from her bag and jotting a note on a motel pad.

“Where you goin’?” he groused from bed.

She turned to see him sitting up and rubbing his eyes.

“My plane is on time. Javi’s downstairs.”

“I can drive you.”

She walked over to the bed and sat next to him, “best not drive yet. Just in case.”

“I’m fine.”

“I know but, for my peace of mind, just sleep a little longer and then hydrate.”

“When are you coming back?”

“Next week, at the latest. Go back to sleep.”

She stood and grabbed her suitcase handle. His chest tightened; her impending departure upset him in a way he couldn’t fathom. No concrete ties bound them; they’d made no promises. Kate’s face at the airport yesterday, “this could be it,” pinged around in his brain.

“Hey Sapulpa?”

She turned towards him, a moment from reaching for the doorknob.

“Don’t go.”

She again released the suitcase, sauntered to him, and stood between his legs. He tilted his face up, and her hands rested on either side of his face, sending tingles down his neck. Her thumbs brushing over his ears, her lips hovered so near to his, he thought he might be dreaming. Her eyes drifted shut, waiting generously for Tyler to seal the deal. He closed the centimeter between their mouths, crashing his soft warm lips into hers. Their kiss went from chaste to passionate in less than half a second, and Tyler pulled her down to straddle him upon the bed. He leaned back, taking her with him, and quickly flipped her beneath him, all without breaking the slow, wet, deep kisses they pressed upon each other. Their ministrations rounded corners neither had intended when Kate broke the kiss. His mouth detoured to her neck biting and kissing up to her ears, and she struggled to find coherent speech.

“I’d like to stay right here with you,” she huffed, breathless, “but, I, I have to go Tyler.”

“I know,” he kissed her cheeks, chin, nose and mouth, again, softly and too briefly.

“Next week?” He asked voice thick with desire, as she unclasped her legs from around his waist, realizing with chagrin she’d caged him in a thigh-vise.

“At the latest,” she smiled into his mouth, and he pulled her up to standing with him.

His brawny arms still trapped her against him when a knock at the door drew them back to reality.

He sighed, his nose nuzzling hers, “Javi’s impatient.”

“Reporting for duty!” Boone yelled through the door.

Tyler raised an eyebrow, pulling his face back to meet her eyes, “I don’t need a babysitter.”

She gripped his face in her palms, lovingly running her thumbs along his jaw, “I know you’re not feeling the effects anymore, but the half-life of Rohypnol is like twenty hours, if that’s even what he dosed you with. It just, it scares me Tyler. I can’t stay with you, but I don’t want you to be alone.”

He softened at her vulnerability, planted one last slow and impossibly gentle kiss upon her lips and whispered, “better let him in then.”

She opened her motel door to Boone’s enormous smile, “Heya Kate. Javi’s chomping at the bit down there; he says you’ll miss your flight if you don’t get a move on.”

“Thank you for getting here so fast,” she gave him a quick hug.

“No problemo,” he nodded and plopped down in the office chair, spun around once entirely, and then watched Kate and Tyler exchange a languishing look.

“Sent me your proposal?”

She smiled at him from the doorway, suitcase in hand, “yep.”

He returned her smile, “Call me when you land?”

“I will. Hydrate. Rest.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

When the door clicked to a close behind her, his heart ached, but with less finality.

“So? Did you do it? Did you kiss her?”

“C’mon, Boone, you know I don’t kiss and tell.”

“Yeah, but did you? Did you kiss her?”

“Course I kissed her,” he smiled proudly, falling back into bed to the sound of Boone’s signature “yip!”

One week, at the most.

Hell, he’d been searching for her his whole life; what was another week?

AUTHOR’s NOTE:

This was just supposed to be a fluffy lil fic I would return to whenever I got frustrated writing my other fics. Didn’t mean for it to turn into 5k words monster fic. Feed this writer with your comments, if you feel so inspired. I love reading your feedback.

[feyspeaker]

Hi! I made an account just so I could follow your work. Your art is brilliant and honestly and inspiration to where I want to be. I’m an older artist who has all the anxiety when it comes to improving my process. I’m trying to get into digital portraits and I have so many ideas in my head, but it’s frustrating because I’m not where I want to be to make this happen. What are some tricks that help you/software do you use? Of course, you don’t have to share anything that makes you uncomfortable. I currently have procreate and an iPad, but I feel a little lost. Wondering if I need a different writing tablet and photoshop. Not sure. I just eventually want to find that 3D, but also artistic look you are able to achieve.

hey there! thank you so much!!

ultimately, I will sound like a broken record but I always recommend you sign up for local figure drawing or painting classes. have people pose for you at home and sketch with charcoal and paper. go to the zoo and sit down in front on an exhibit for an hour and try to draw the animals in front of you as fast as you can and fill a couple of pages, move on to a new exhibit and do it again!

nothing is more powerful of a tool to learn than whatever writing utensil you have in your purse and the back of a napkin when you see something you'd like to capture. I've spent quite frankly my entire rememberable life doing this. I used to spend every single day in middle school/high school/my brief failed stint in community college with a pack of cheap sharpies and a beat up binder full of old worksheets and homework to draw on the backs of.

drawing/painting from life will teach you better than anything.

I use a very outdated version of Photoshop, and only got a "nice" tablet in the past 7 months.

Also, a huge tip to you and anyone else reading this: do NOT get too focused on a "style" that you want. Obsessing over that just ruined me for years and years. I wanted so, so, so badly to be the next Matsuri Hino when I was a kid. I copied her work religiously and it NEVER looked right. Frustrated me to no end. And you know why my stuff never looked like hers? Because I'm not her! You can't force your art to come out any way that isn't natural, and the sooner you can accept the art your hand wants to create, the happier you'll be and the easier art will get for you.

The past couple of years before I started diving into this more realism based work, I was just shoving myself through trying to make what art I envied of others. Very stylized/textured watercolor comic book style stuff. And I just was NOT getting any better at it. I have always been more inclined toward realism work, but I've hated it and yearned for stylized work. Yoshitaka Amano? God, I just drooled over that artstyle and beat myself up for never being able to capture it in studies or otherwise.

I finally essentially restructured my entire career around making the art that makes me happy instead of what I "wanted" it to look like. I was extremely depressed, my life was falling apart, and I still needed to make art to survive but I couldn't "art" if I was depressed and hated doing it, so I just had to step back and stop worrying so much about what I thought I wanted to make, and started making what felt most natural.

there's no easy way, and art can be a soul destroying path at times, truly. your software and hardware should come very last place compared to practicing from life (it doesn't matter if you want to paint cartoony stuff of realistic stuff, always start from life). naturally you will find what makes your heart sing the most.

I get a lot of messages from people telling me similar stuff "oh your art is EXACTLY what I want to do!" but I promise you that kind of thought process is chasing a dragon that is likely to harm or drag your creative process down. art style is such a deeply personal thing, so of COURSE it's important to find inspiration, but the second looking at someone else's artwork stops inspiring you and starts frustrating you, put it away.

There are some artists who I love, that I do not check up on often because their artwork ignites, like, serious bitter jealousy in me. It's the truth. I get so mad at myself for not being more like them, and it's such a poison. I think more artists should be transparent about this feeling because I KNOW the art community has a lot of jealousy and ugliness in it.

A fact of being an artist is that you will never be completely happy with a piece you make. You are always going to see the flaws, and that doesn't change whether you'd been drawing for 2 months or 20 years. Occasionally, you will get one piece that you are like "how did I make that???" and then get frustrated that you can't recreate it lol! It's a tough beast.

It's just really important to step back and work on yourself and where you are at, because at the end of the day, the way your soul wants to express artwork might be WILDLY different from what your brain wants, and it can be really detrimental to let those two go to war.

I hope this helps. I'm very passionate about this, and when I started out I ALWAYS ignored the artists who gave the same exact tips as above. I thought they were so annoying and unhelpful, but now I /get it/.

[diy-fire-water-pups]

(( Houston we have a problem. My laptop's WAY SLOWER THAN BEFORE as in it's apparently taking over two hours to start and it's missing drivers because Microsoft didn't set up a driver pack for this Samsung laptop I have. This SURE is a problem.

We're not sure how to proceed. We suspect it's the HD/SSD. I can't afford anything to test this theory for a couple months now that I had to change Wi-Fi contracts and I'm not selling enough art commissions to afford bills + food + my tech issues. I feel so defeated I can't even feel sad or angry, just... Frustrated.

I'll make-do with that old Samsung tablet I've been using for drawing the icons for this blog while trying to... Idk what I'll try. I never liked the idea of making a post asking for donations because I'm too proud for that and I'll want to compensate people someway, plus there was that time people were scamming digital artists through PayPal and I can't afford not even a scam attempt...

At least I don't depend on a computer/laptop to keep running this blog, so my promise still stands. The pups will be back answering your questions at some point this week. ))

[gandalfsdrawingblog]

Some of my early undirectioned stuff

This is just a simple post to show some of the early drawings I made before I decided to try taking a course. The images are not in a particular order, and there's a lot of stuff I don't have here that I ended up deleting as I didn't see value in keeping.

First is a painting I titled "Sunrise by Imil"

This started as a perspective practice with the usual "draw a box on 1, 2 and 3 point perspective"; but then slowly evolved into something that I wanted to see detailed, finished and such. I wanted to have a wintery landscape to show my players a vision of the world they inhabit. They visited Mercury Lighthouse a long while ago, and was a place that I don't feel like I left the impression on how eerie and out of place, yet absurdly natural felt. I would've loved to have this ilustration back then, to show my players a visual of where they were going, rather than a simple explanation of the area.

I also used this piece to get familiar with the brushes and customization tools that Krita offers. I learned a lot about texturing, layers, brush packs and other things with this piece. I'm happy about how it turned out, but feel like there's a lot of things that can definitely be improved.

Second we have a Chikorita fan art.

I wanted to draw something for my GF, and use that as a excuse to practice shaping and sketching. Chikorita was her starter when we played Pokemon HG/SS on a dual run, and she remembers fondly her "Kory", as she nicknamed it. I started strong with the sketch and felt like the shape was pretty much nailed, but as I got to detailing the line art, I found it hard to make the lines not feel wobbly. I need to practice more on my line smoothness.

Then we have Untitled piece #1, a shape practice sheet.

I actually had a lot more of these back when I first plugged the tablet to my PC. I used these sheets to practice lines, shapes and circles (you can see a lot of the circles). I was also trying to practice some shape forming into faces, as some video I saw taught me how. I don't really like the results, and feel like there's a lot of room to improve, but as this was literally 24 hours into my drawing hyperfixation, I think it has a place here. You can also see some early concept for the Lighthouse on the center of the sheet, which in turn came to be fully fledged on the first image of this post.

And that's all I have available to export now. I thought I had more pieces to show, but I guess those will come with time.

Will certainly upload more as I continue the course.

[pbandjesse]

I'm sitting at a wedding and I am having a really nice time. I really do hope that this can be more regular in the fall. Because I do really love doing the events and I want to do it more. It makes me happy.

Today was a pretty good day overall. Not as successful a market day as far as sales go. But I had fun. It was a good day.

I slept better. Had an easier time falling asleep. The air conditioner noise helps. And I wore a hoodie which seems to trick my brain into sleeping more securely.

When I woke up at 7 I was tired but it was fine. I got washed and dressed and when I got out of the bathroom James was there and they said that when they come upstairs to make the bed and I'm not out yet they get all excited to get to see me and I thought that was so cute.

James had already loaded up the car and they even remembered my tablet. I would still forget my knitting in the end but it was okay. I would draw on my tablet for a lot of the day. It all worked out.

We stopped for breakfast and then over to the market. We were pretty early so James was able tos gay outside and help me set up before they went inside to do their job.

They would continue to help me though. Making a little flyer for my workshop. And they would come out to get baked goods with me later on. I would spend the first part of the morning helping with new vendors and just talking to Ann and Stanley about the drama around the events department and how I got my feelings hurt. They had their own thoughts and issues but it was nice to get another opinion on the whole thing.

I would make some sales. But I wouldnt get my sales goal for the day. I had gotten so many sales last week that it still evens out in the end but it can be discouraging. Especially when it was still a particularly busy day. Lots of people.

I was very focused on my drawing. I haven't made new bear designs in forever and people keep suggesting sports bears. So that is what I did. A baseball. Two football. A Michael Phelps. And then I would make Edwin my best I sleep with but that's mostly for me.

I would also have some nice conversations. The child who I promised the squishmallows to came and got so super nervous but her mom came up to double check with me that I was giving them to her. And I was like yes please take them happy birthday I'm just so glad that a child is actively getting them.

I would spend time talking to Stanley. And just enjoying a beautiful day.

At noon two guys walked up to me and were like "hey Jesse!" And it didn't hit me at first but it was James's friends Meir and Brooks! They were in town for a baseball game and it was so nice to see them. We would talk for most of a half hour. Eventually they would go inside to say hi to James.

I told them I would be able to pack up in 2 minutes and when the market was done I did just that. I packed up. I got eveything in the car. And I went to say goodbye to my husband

Meir and Brooks were leaving as I was coming in and they were surprised I actually was done packing up so fast. (They would come to our house after the game to see it and I was happy to hear about that from James. I hope they thought it was cute.)

I would go right home after hugging James goodbye. We weren't sure we would cross paths when I came back to the musuem later. So we said goodbye and I went home to rest.

When I got home I brought in my one basket because it has baked goods in it. I would hug in Sweetp for a little. And went to put a little frozen pizza in the microwave.

While that cooked and also cooled down I went and changed into comfy clothes. I put my hair in a bun and ate my little lunch. I was in bed by 2.

I struggled to stay asleep. I kept waking up panicked that I had missed my alarm. But even with the waking up I got a good amount of rest.

When I woke up I was pretty dehydrated and a little confused. But I got cleaned up and redressed and felt real nice and very pretty. Everyone loves this dress and I always get lots of compliments. It felt like the right day for that for me.

I would makes a stop at the dollar store before I went to the wedding. I grabbed a small frame and a snack. Paid was $4 and went over to the museum where I was able to briefly see my husband and get a hug. I love them so much.

I'm just getting to my car now after the wedding. And man was tonight busy. It was very exciting in many different ways. But honestly I had a great time. For being probably one of the last events were all three of us will be there I had a really wonderful time and I really hope that we can have more shifts just in general because I really love doing the weddings and I want to continue to do events. Maybe I'll even look into doing events at other locations. We'll see.

After James left I really jumped into my conversation with Merrill about what was up and what I needed to know and all that kind of stuff. And I had been there for the rehearsal yesterday so I kind of had a brief and fleeting idea of what was going to happen at this wedding. And we would pretty much kill it. There was definitely some problems. specifically two medical emergencies. Someone passed out hit their head on the ground and we thought they had a seizure. And then someone else threw their back out so hard they were in tears. So I was getting people ice packs and wheelchairs. My first day training really kicked in in those moments. I was very calm and I was able to help as much as possible but there was also a few people who were there that were nurses so I was also deferring to them and I felt very helpful and that was nice.

The wedding though was beautiful just it was very quick. I feel like some people's ceremonies are 45 minutes and others are 10. This was more like a 15 minute but it was really nice and the dog was involved which is always fun. And people were cheering and just really happy. We were sitting at the front desk after ushering people in and making sure that there was no one getting in pictures that weren't supposed to be there. And it was just really nice.

me and maril would act as educators for the evening. I was doing the first half and she did the second half and honestly I could have done the entire thing and had a blast. Because once I got people to come back and listen to me I was working the crowd and telling my stories and jokes and just really loving it. And just having so much fun just talking about history. And I think that's something that I miss sometimes because I just know those stories so well that it's just nice to fall back into. And I think that I really did a great job tonight and made the guests learn something but also just have a lot of fun.

There was also kids at this wedding and they were really cool and were dressed really awesome and I just thought that was really nice that I was able to connect with them as well. Once Merrill took over I had to like completely disengage and walk away because I want to share more stuff but I don't want to walk on her toes. So I went to go find Jesse and I ate a bunch of deviled eggs which were very good. And that's when the medical emergencies all happened. So I was busy busy busy for a little bit there. And just periodically checking on them throughout the night. Making sure that they were okay and feeling better. We did not call an ambulance for our friend who passed out per request. But honestly I feel like we might have benefited from that. I just thought it was funny that it was the guest that yesterday at the rehearsal told me he was going to cause the most problems at the wedding. So it was something I could bring up later on to him and made him laugh so I hope that he's feeling okay.

The rest of the evening was great. A lot of just talking to people wandering around checking on stuff. There wasn't much I could eat at dinner so I was glad that I had multiple deviled eggs. And much later than we expected we were able to have cake. And it was pretty good. The raspberry one was better than the chocolate. The chocolate's one's icing was not great. It was a little too sweet and gritty in texture. But I was just having a great time talking to Meryl and Jesse and joking and being silly. It was a really really nice event and the couple was awesome. I had come in with my frame ready to print and I made three copies of the print for them. And framed it up all nice. And was able to put it on their card table and I even saw the photographers taking pictures of it and that made me feel very good. I am very glad that I was able to make that for them and I hope that I can keep doing that in the future.

After cake Merrill went home. And me and Jesse would hang out for a while. I talked to Mark our security guard for a bit. He told me some of his backstory and lower. Turns out he was paralyzed for 2 years and in a wheelchair. This came up because after our medical emergencies gave the wheelchairs back I was sitting at one at the front desk. And just kind of rolling myself in a circle for a bit. Which led to me telling him about my dad and I really feel like the imputation, while was very hard on him emotionally, is really for the best in the long run and I think that he will be able to heal and get some of his life back. Even though he is going to be 70 years old he still has multiple decades left that I require him to be alive. And I want him to be having the best life possible so I'm really glad that that talking about that with other people that have family members ( Mark told me that his sister and his niece are both amputees ) are thriving and living with a similar injury is something that I am glad that I can hear from other people.

The last 2 hours of my night was organizing with the caters and making sure that things were getting cleaned the way they were supposed to be. And making sure that I knew where things were supposed to go. Thankfully I already know where a lot of it goes so it really is just me get it gusty to say things out loud so that I am positive that I understand. I am still very uncomfortable with some of the light switches for some reason but I am doing my best to not let them flex me. It is difficult at times.

So I was turning on and off the same lights because I was a little confused about a few of them. And then I ended up missing that there was a puddle on the ground and we had to send the caterers back to finish cleaning. But it was like not a huge deal and it was good for me to practice. I kept saying that I had failed us as a team as a pair of Jesse's.

Caterers were great though. There was some communication stuff that was a little wonky but they were totally down to do their job and we were all just ready to get out of there but we wanted to leave the space nice.

While we were going through checking the lights Jesse gets a phone call from the event planner. The groom had lost his suit jacket somewhere at the wedding and he apparently remembered that they had gone on the roof! No one supposed to go up there! So Jesse went up to explore to see if we could find the suit jacket but I felt like he was up there for a long time. So for the first time I went up on the roof. And I found he was talking to someone who was sitting up in our lights. And apparently this is that person's special spot and I thought that was so funny and so cute. I am glad that they were super chill and they're like we just want to have a nice time and we don't want to ruin anything and we were like cool. We won't lock you in. So we did see them off at the very end of the night but it was pretty funny.

After we finished turning all the lights off Jesse told me that we needed to deal with the gates and I was like cool can do. But then the gate was stuck and then I noticed that the farmer's market sign was still out there and that was a little confusing. So I carried that back to France so that it can get put away in the morning. And then it was time for me to go home. I said goodbye to Mark. That's a good night to Jesse. And then I headed home.

And that's where I am now. I am going to go inside and I'm going to get ready for bed and then go to sleep. James went to bed like an hour ago. And tomorrow I'm going to drive up to meet with Jess and we're going to go to antique stores and I'm really looking forward to spending time with her. I just hope that it is a beautiful day. I hope that you all have a great time and hope the weather is nice. Sleep well everyone. Until next time.

[levi-venn]

The First Toothpick

Chapter 3: A Fistful of Carrots

Gen Fic - Mentor/Protege

Characters: Cad Bane, Crosshair (the kid), Jango (flashbacks).

Summary: Cad Bane teaches Crosshair how to be a sniper. The kid picks up some other habits as a result.

Chapter Summary: The kid experiences dry land for the first time. His reaction surprises Cad...but it also gives him an idea.

Chapters: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch7 | Ch8 | Ch9 |

Available on AO3 here

“It’s just grass.��� 

“The hell it is,” Cad said, retreating back up the ramp of the Firespray.

“C’mon, Cad, have a little faith in me. Watch.” Jango hopped out of the ship, landing waist deep in the field of golden brown wheat…

…like a damn fool.

So much wheat…stretching for as far as his scarlet globular eyes could see.

And that much wheat meant that many more places to hide.

“There’s things in there,” Cad warned, pointing to something rustling near Jango’s leg. 

“Just critters. Predators don’t come out until nightfall and they prefer Fabools to humanoids. You’re safe, I promise.”

“Uh huh…” Cad took another step backwards. “...I’ll just stay here.”

It wasn’t that he missed his homeworld - fuck Duro - but at least he knew and accepted it for what it was: A world that had traded its soul for industry long before Cad was born.  Clouds weren’t supposed to be white and fluffy like this. They should be oily and black belched from rusty smokestacks.  Even the sky here was wrong, too blue, too bright, missing the stains of putrid orange and green.  He’d been on this planet for less than a minute and already had his fill of the buzzing insects and…where the hell was that croaking coming from anyway?

“We got work to do, Cad. Don’t make me throw you over my shoulder like a bag of meilooruns.”

Cad sighed and stood on the edge of the ramp, staring down the untamed wilderness of what was supposedly a very tame ranch. The wheat stalks swooned in the breeze, like long fingers coaxing Cad into unseen jaws.

He sank one boot into the grass.

Something shrieked and shot up into the air.

Cad stumbled backwards, drawing one blaster only to have it slip from his fingers, sliding noisily down the ramp and out of sight into the wheat field. He pulled the second blaster and fired at the monster.

The convor flew away, unscathed.

“Aaaand this is why we’re here,” Jango frowned, picking up fumbled blaster and handing it back to Cad. “You’re jumpy as hell and can’t shoot for shit. If you want to keep calling me boss, get your shit together, Cad.”

“Yeah, boss,” Cad mumbled, holstering both blasters, embarrassment warming his face.

“Alright, enough lollygagging. Let’s go check on the Fabools.”

“What the hell is a Fabool?”

Cad found the kid curled up asleep in Bossk’s chair, cheek pressed against the scope of his rifle and a half-eaten protein bar in his hand. 

Beneath the chair was the kid’s duffle bag, half-open. Cad nudged it with his boot. Jumpsuits, protein bars, packs of water purifying tablets. No toys, no music discs, no personality. Not a single candy bar.

Jango loved caramel Starsbars; always kept one on him, in a pouch next to his thermal dets. He also loved fried eggs and bacon, nerf stew with extra carrots, peach-flavored tihaar cocktails (though he always claimed he drank tihaar straight), and he bobbed his head to Figrin D'an And The Modal Nodes when he thought no one was looking. 

Did all his clones experience the same joys he did? Were they even given a chance?

He kicked Bossk’s chair. “Get up, kid. We’re here.”

The kid sat upright, eyes still closed, a long, textured red line from the scope denting his cheek. “Where are we?”

“That’s classified,” Cad smirked.

“Haha, funny,” the kid yawned and slithered out of the chair. He took another bite of the protein bar, then tucked it back into his jumpsuit’s pocket.

I told him to find somethin’ to eat, Cad thought. Does he prefer his own rations?

“This hideout was Jango’s before it was mine. He taught me all I knew here n’ I’m gonna impart some of that know-how onto you.”

“I know how to shoot."

“Yeah, slower than molasses on Vandor,” Cad sneered. “We’re gonna fix that, but for now…” Cad activated the ramp. “...let’s just start with gettin’ out of the ship.”

The kid’s expression didn’t change.

Not when the door slid open.

Not when seeing, probably for the first time, an ocean of golden brown wheat, a clear sky, and a world alive with natural wonders.

Except that wasn’t exactly true. The kid's expression did change, if you knew where to look. Cad watched the kid's glassy brown eyes dart around the narrow view of the scenery, not like a frightened kid like Cad was all those years ago, but with a curious feline studying his new territory.

The kid ventured forward, standing on the edge of the ramp scanning the wheat field.  He didn’t move for a long moment.

Cad stood beside him, studying his face. The kid didn’t look scared, but something was holding him back. 

Finally, he looked up at Cad, brow knitted slightly.

Cad tilted his head. “What?”

“...is it safe?”

“C’mon, Cad, have a little faith in me,”

“Yeah, kid,” Cad said, Jango’s exasperated sigh burned in his memory. “It’s safe.”

As the kid took that first step forward, Cad leaned against the ship and popped a toothpick between his teeth. He expected to be here a while as the kid grew accustomed to the planet. 

But the kid jumped in with two feet. Literally. And then took off like a blaster bolt, running through the fields like a wild lothcat and twice as silent, maneuvered through the grass with practiced efficiency. 

Huh…engineered for stealth…created for war…

The kid chased some unseen varmint for a while before stopping to catch a butterfly in mid-air. As he cupped it in his hands, peeking through the fingers, a frog leapt onto his leg.  The kid gasped, but even that was subdued. He eyed the frog with round, emotional eyes, then lifted his leg to show Cad. 

Created for war…but still just a kid.

The frog disappeared into the kid’s pocket only to leap back out again as soon as the kid’s attention turned to a flock of ducks flying overhead.

“Believe it or not, Cad,” Jango said, arm draped loosely over Cad’s shoulder as they walked through the grass together. “There are some planets in this galaxy that aren’t a kriffing nightmare to live on.”

“Pretty planets can be dangerous too,” Cad mumbled.

“Hey,” Jango stopped in his tracks and made the sulking duros look him in the eye. Human eyes were always too emotional for Cad's liking. Jango's eyes weren't bad to look at though. Still, he scowled stubbornly. “I promised you a quiet place to train you and I meant it. You’re safe here. You’re safe with me.”

As the kid stood transfixed over a grasshopper crawling along his arm, Cad slung the kid’s rifle over his own shoulder, grabbed a few more bags, and exited the ship. He was halfway to the house when he realized the kid was following him, silent as the grave and his arm still extended giving the grasshopper a proper runway.

“Just goin’ to the house. Go play, kid.”

“I’m not playing,” the kid denied. “I’m here to learn.”

Cad sneered. “Like a good little soldier, huh?”

“I’m not just a soldier. I’m an elite-”

“Just be a kriffin’ kid today, okay?”

The kid’s neutral expression melted into something teetering on panic. He looked around again as if searching for something or someone to explain “playing” to him.

Made for war...

“How about this,” Cad sighed. “Do some recon. Get familiar with the territory. The perimeter extends to the barbed wire fence and the border of the lake. Report back when yer done.”

Seemingly satisfied with this “mission” he nodded and bounded off, the grasshopper flying behind him. 

Fuck you, Jango, for givin’ just one special little Boba a childhood and leavin’ the rest behind.

Cad headed to the house and hoped Todo 360 had ordered the extra carrots for the nerf stew.

***

Cad remembered being disappointed when he first arrived at the hideout. 

The word “hideout” made him think of a beaten up shack filled with illegal artillery, chests full of credits, and a bunch of mean-looking mercs he’d be glad to have on his side.

But this hideout was a farmhouse. A quaint home perched on a hill overlooking the wheat fields. Over the front door was a wooden sign with hand carved, flowery aurebesh reading: “The Stars Shine on This Home”. Rocking chairs moved with the cool breeze on the porch. Cheerful tulips welcomed bees in the front garden. Inside the house, there were floral quilts on the plush couches and horseshoes over every doorway. There was a ubiquitous scent of cinnamon and aged wood. 

“Doesn’t look like much of a hideout,” Cad sulked, eyeing the pie cooling on the windowsill. 

“And you don’t look like much of a mercenary,” Jango sneered, pulling out two plates and a pie server. “Looks can be deceiving.”

Three hours later, the kid showed up. Dirt caked his cheeks, burrs stuck to his jumpsuit. There was a scrape on his hand, and a few bugs and a frog peeked out of his pockets.

From the kitchen, Cad slid a heap of carrots into the simmering nerf stew and watched the kid carefully stalk the living room, eyeing everything, but touching nothing. 

Well, almost nothing.

Cad’s wide-brimmed hat hung on the rack near the door.

The kid reached up for it. 

“Take a seat, kid,” Cad said, his tone sharp. “Food’s almost ready.”

The kid snatched his hand back and scurried to the small table in the dining area. He sniffed the daisy bouquet centerpiece and looked shocked to realize it was real.  He put one of the grasshoppers on one of the flowers.  The grasshopper immediately hopped away.

Cad set the bowl of hearty nerf stew in front of the kid and brushed the grasshopper onto the floor. “Eat up. It’s tastier than those shitty protein bars ya got stowed away.”

The kid’s spoon poked experimentally at the stew.

“I like the protein bars,” he said, watching the hearty chunks of nerf bobbing in the sienna broth.

He took a bite of just broth at first, his face remaining neutral, but his brow rose a little lighter.

The second bite was a little more adventurous with a piece of nerf added to it.

The third bite was all carrots…

…and the kid immediately spat them out in his napkin, wrinkling his nose.

Cad nearly snickered.

Under any normal circumstance he would’ve found it funny.

But the disappointment hit his gut like a cheap shot.

It was just carrots.  What would he care if the kid hated carrots and Jango ate them like candy?

Because this ain’t about carrots. If these clones ain’t like Jango, then they got free will, don’t they?

And if they got free will…

…what happens if they decide they don’t wanna be soldiers?

Questions far above his pay grade, but like Jango always said: “The day you stop asking questions is the day They win.”

Is that what you did, Jango? Cad wondered, bringing his own bowl of stew to the table. Did ya just stop askin’ questions?

Halfway through the quiet meal, Cad realized the kid was staring at him.

“Somethin’ on yer mind, kid?” He asked, not looking up.

The kid silently picked another carrot off his spoon and added it to the orange pile on his napkin. 

“I asked ya a question.”

“I didn’t find any Fabool,” the kid murmured.

“Didja know where to look?”

“No.”

Cad raised his brow ridge. “Didja ask where they were?”

The kid shook his head.

“So? Ask me.”

“Where are they?”

“Behind the house. Finish your stew and I’ll show y-”

The kid dropped his spoon, grabbed the bowl and, in record time, gulped down the rest of the stew, chewing the last bits noisily and spitting out a final piece of carrot.

“Ready.” he said, deadpan, though his eyes sparkled as bright as Jango’s whenever Cad handed him a Starsbar.

Need Todo to order more Starsbar, Cad reminded himself. Just in case.

***

Behind the house was a square, quarter acre of land, sectioned off with a two meter high fence covered in thick brown wool. From the outside, it just looked like an extra storage shed, but as Cad and the kid drew nearer, it was evident something was moving around inside the enclosure.  

The kid pressed his face against the fabric barrier trying to see through it without any luck. The Fabools snuffled inquisitively on the other side.

“Whats with the blankets?” 

Huh…first question I didn’t have to pry outta him, Cad mused. 

“Fabools are about as sensitive as they are stupid. In the wild they’re liable to get stuck on thorn bushes n' deflate, makin' 'em easy pickin's for predators. The goal is to keep ‘em safe n’ happy in here so they produce more eggs."

"Eggs?"

"These eggs ain't for eatin'. Not for us anyway. They fetch a pretty price on the black market since the egg whites got hallucinatory properties to 'em.” He unlocked the door but held it closed, his eyes narrowing at the kid. “Walk carefully n’ don’t bring anythin’ sharp in here. You deflate ‘em, I deflate you, got it?”

“Okay,” the kid said, with enough earnestness to ease Cad's mind. "Wait," he added suddenly, pulling out a small vibroblade from his boot, and stuck it in the ground outside the enclosure. "Okay, ready."

“Good kid,” Cad nodded.

The kid immediately looked away, but not before Cad noted the faintest trace of a smile in his cheeks. 

Soon as the gate opened, the kid slipped through it and was immediately overwhelmed, disappearing beneath a bouncing avalanche of furry Fabools.

Fabools were balloon-like creatures in every way imaginable, perfectly round, airy and gentle, and navigated the world through bouncing and floating with vague intent on their destination. Short gray fur covered their bodies, and their two webbed feet may have once been used for swimming eons ago, but that evolutionary branch had long since broken off. Their flippers remained as an imperfect guidance system, and Fabools tended to flap out of sheer excitement than for propulsion.

While they didn't exactly have heads, their face was located flush against the upper hemisphere of their round form, a tiny upturned mouth sandwiched between two, round black eyes which blinked adoringly at the kid.  

The kid sank into the grass in wide-eyed wonderment, opening his arms to gently hug however many Fabools he could while the rest rolled and bounced all around him.

Cad couldn’t be sure, but he thought he heard the kid hiss out a small, brief laugh.

“What the fuck, Jango?” Cad growled, backing up as the creatures bounced closer and closer. “Get ‘em away from me.”

“They’re harmless.”

“Then why’re they chasin’ me?” He climbed up the fence, the little monsters hopping in the air obviously trying to bite him.

“They don’t even have teeth. I promise you, they're not dangerous, just curious. Trust me.”

"Trust me..."

Something clicked in Cad’s mind.

…Well shit. Now I know why Jango asked me to train this kid. Snipin’ isn’t this kid’s problem. Trust is.

Not trust in other people. This kid seemed to have an abundance of blind trust for authority figures…something Cad would train out of him in a heartbeat if he wasn’t getting paid for this job. 

The thing is, the kid had trust for everyone outside of himself. 

That’s why he shoots so slow. That’s why he’s so damn hesitant to speak his mind. He’s got that spark in him, but Jango hired me for one specific reason: I got trust for no one but myself. 

“They’re so…helpless,” The kid said, watching one of the males roll by, webbed feet kicking uselessly in the air. The kid gave him a little push to help him to his feet.

So are you, kid, Cad thought, popping a toothpick in his mouth. But don’t worry. We’re gonna fix that. You may hate me afterwards…

…but either way you’ll be stronger for it, and I’ll get paid either way.

[dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice]

L’histoire secrète de la mer /// Chapter 1

Hi! Welcome to the first chapter of the Fili fic. This whole story is gonna be a bit long winded, so hopefully you're all in for the long term, hope you enjoy! x

Summary: Magic was real, but it came at a price. So when two girls end up in the one place they never thought they could reach, strange things began to happen. Good or bad? That's up to them to find out.

Tags: Fili x oc/reader - Kili x oc (for this POV fic visit my navigation) - Thorin's company × ocs/reader (platonic) - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Bagginshield

Word Count: 1407

Warnings: None

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

PLEASE START FROM THE BEGINNING IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY OK LOVE U

Want some background music? Check out my Soundtrack Playlist!

Soon available on Wattpad and AO3

< Prologue // Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 >

PART 1: Chapter 1 -

The Ocean has its silent caves.

Aquaphile (Definition): Someone who is an enthusiast of all things related to the water. (Noun / Origin: Greek-English / a-qua-phi-le)

Lake District, Cumbria, North-West England - Modern Day Earth, August 2022

English weather truly loves to give the middle finger sometimes, especially on a day out you planned for weeks in advance.

But this is England we’re talking about, so despite the already dwindling faith you put in the weatherman, you prepare for every possible element for when you step out the front door.

I was glad I had this in mind when packing for a week trip to the Lake District. Windermere is notorious for giving not one, but two middle fingers, having more rainy  days than dry in the year.

 ‘And just our luck, it happens today,’ I thought, my eyes boring holes into the drawing on my tablet. The rolling grey skies grew darker from the curtains of rain hammering down into the soil, and periodically, the shuttle bus would sway slightly from the aggressive wind, creating a silent feeling of unease for the small group of passengers taking the ride to the hostel.

Feeling my frustration grow, I prodded aggressively at the ‘undo’ button, trying my best to ignore the way the swaying vehicle would cause my pen to jerk about. Shifting my legs to get more comfortable, I squinted at the bright screen, scouring for any imperfections in the drawing I was seconds away from giving up. Satisfied with what I has so far, I carried on.

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Kate to my right as she leant down to pick up and rummage through her bag, pulling out a small book on glaciers. I had practically thrown it at her head once she had proposed the idea travelling up to the lakes. We spent a week packing, with me almost bringing down the entire bookshelf trying to find my geography books (as Kate so graciously put it), that now took up the entire bottom of my rucksack.

She read for a while, but eventually her eyes began to droop, sweeping around tiredly at what was around her. I remained in my shrimp position, headphones on and blasting music as I carried on with my drawing. Kate propped her legs up, resting the book on her knees as she took out the bookmark and started reading from where she left off, and I returned to my tablet, both of us tuning out the murmurs and whispers of the other holiday makers around us.

Around twenty minutes of quiet passed, until the driver up front announced our arrival would be soon, causing a stir as everyone began to gather their bags. Kate nudged my knee with the book in her hand, waiting as I slipped my headphones off and around my neck,

“Pack your stuff away,” she whispered, “I’ll make sure to get the booking up.”

Both of us began our respectable jobs, I made sure everything that had been brought out on the ride was back in its place, whilst Kate scrolled her phone until she brought up the booking reference. Considering the rainy weather, we both slipped on our raincoats before slinging the bags over our shoulders, waiting for the bus to slow to a stop. Soon enough, with both hoods pulled up, we squeezed down the aisle along with everyone else and stepped out into the fierce winds and rain.

The sound of the continuous downpour and gravel crunching underfoot filled my ears as I scoured the surrounding area for the hostel. Said hostel was some ways down the winding lane in front of us, nestled within a wide valley surrounded by green, speckled hills smothered with trees, curving down to cradle the small building that stood politely at the bottom. Running from the top of the valley down past the hostel was a small river, threatening to burst at the banks from the onslaught of torrential downpour.

A freak gust of wind and the noise of the shuttle bus pulling away seemed to usher everyone forward, and we began the trudge through the churned up mud and soaking puddles. By the looks on everyone faces, we were all desperate to escape the miserable weather as swiftly as possible.

“Tomorrow better be the light clouds we were promised,” I groaned over the noise, my face twisting in further annoyance as I looked down to find my shoes and trousers were already caked in mud, “cuz I don’t wanna be stuck in a dingy hostel waiting for all this to blow over.”

Kate hummed tiredly in reply, agreeing since despite how much we adored the rain, this type of weather wasn’t ideal for hiking up mountains in, no matter how much of an adventure it would be. But tomorrow could wait, since right now, nothing but a warm drink and comfy bed could satisfy us until tomorrow.

After slipping over almost twice, whilst quietly laughing at those who did, we crossed the threshold of the hostel, kicking off our mud clogged hiking boots immediately as to not tread dirt all over the place. We also made sure to give one of the men from the bus stink eye as he trampled past, doing quite the opposite, smearing whatever, wherever, much to the dismay of the poor lady at the desk. Thank god any carpet was yet to appear.

Approaching the desk, I gently placed my boots on the floor as I watched Kate display the booking on my phone to the lady behind it. She reached under the desk and brought out a set of two keys, handing them over. We thanked her politely and wandered further into the building, leaving her with the now nervous man who had finally noticed what was on the bottom of his shoes.

Meandering upstairs and down a few corridors of the small hostel, the door sign eventually matched the key.

“Finally!” Kate exclaimed in relief, excitedly twisting the key in the lock until she felt a click.

I turned to her with a face of mocked exasperation.

“13?” I questioned. “Weren’t there at least ten rooms available with a different number?”

“It’s my lucky number,” she stated nonchalantly, using her shoulder to budge the door open. She emptied one hand of luggage onto the floor to flip the light switch. “It’s quite funny watching the looks on people’s faces when I tell them.”

With an amused roll of my eyes, I followed in and dumped my own bags on the floor. With light now illuminating the room, we turned to inspect our surroundings.

The room was nothing special, just a plain and simple double bedroom; two single beds; a pair of small bedside drawers sat in between, small lamps on top; two wardrobes pushed against the walls at the foot of each bed; and a few portraits depicting the natural surroundings hung up on the walls.

Like I said, plain and simple.

Tucking my shoes into the corner, I crossed the room with Kate trailing behind and clambered over the creaking bed on the right to reach to window. Gazing out into the valley, I realised the rain had slowed to a stop, now able to make out the details of the thick forest outside. Picking up a key that had been left on the windowsill, I flicked off bits of rust that had begun to form on the metal before carefully slotting it into the keyhole and twisting. Pulling the handle up, I swung open the window, taking a deep inhale as I breathed in the fresh breeze that replaced the stagnant air inside.

After taking in our weeklong view, an hour or so was spent putting away everything we had brought. Kate had overpacked as usual, so I lent her half a drawer, in exchange for the window side. Shoes and wash bags were left by the door since the bathrooms were communal instead of personal.

The remainder of the day was us mostly chilling in our room, taking a couple visits downstairs to explore the rest of the building and eat in the small canteen, before heading to bed for the night.

The next few days trudged by contently as we explored the surrounding area, visiting the nearby towns and returning to our room with a concerning amount of bags brimming with gift shop items. I had gone a little crazy after spotting a fossil shop, if the bag containing half a dozen at the foot of my bed said anything. However, tomorrow’s plans were different.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please let me know if you want to be added to the Taglist!

< Prologue // Chapter 1 // Chapter 2 >

Return to Fic Masterlist

Return to Navigation

See you at some point for Chapter 2! Also please comment if you want to be added to the Taglist <3

Taglist: @opheliasdrowningg

(Message me if your tag isn’t working)

[snowed-leopard]

Okay Snow, you did the 9 mercenaries as birds, what’s next?

I’m making this as a sort of mini set of questions and answers about the whole shebang. No one asked but I’m telling anyways.

Anyways for next steps, I may make Saxton, Admin, and Pauling, maybe not, I already know what saxton would be if I did (emu, obvious), but I’m not sure about our two token ladies… I have some ideas for certain. This whole thing took a lot out of me being as fast as I tried to be, I’m a slow artist with limited time in my day for art sadly, so they’d be back burner for sure. At least until art fight references are done being made.

In the mean time I’d totally be down for people to ask me things about the au or request little scenes or doodles, or just discuss my choices! If you have birds you think would work as well I’d love to discuss it with you :) I don’t bite… usually. I promise!

What brushes did you use?

I stay pretty limited. I used procreate’s basic ink bleed brush (with a little stabilisation sometimes for my poor hands) for sketching and lining. I used procreate’s basic rectangle brush for almost all my coloring and rendering. Starting at spy’s piece (I think) I used the cloud painting rake from devin Elle Kurtz’s free cloud painting brush pack to add in details to the wings. It was easier than what I did in solly’s piece, which is all manually painted with the rectangular brush turned way down in size and took eons.

Also starting in spy’s painting I used the HSV sliders and my rectangle brush to paint in the deeper light and shadows once the flat render was done! It’s made my rendering a lot easier and more beautiful and consistent in my opinion. Over all my art skills have increased vastly.

For the more complicated poses and perspectives I made pose models in the free app justsketchme and used those.

Did you listen to anything while drawing?

Bear ghost, a lesser known rock band from Arizona, single handedly got me though this whole project, I had them on blast for almost every piece for at least part of its drawing. Please check them out on Spotify incredibly good and underrated. Dotab, big town banky Blaine’s rockabilly bbq, and necromancin dancin single-handedly kept me going in particular. I also adore sirens, peas and love, and funkle Phil.

Why were you so pressed to make these so fast?

I had for a week long trip I couldn’t bring my tablet along on starting the 13th, so it was either draw fast enough, or wreck my momentum and have a week before the last one. Boy howdy have I sleep deprived myself for this art. Worth it tho. I didn’t make it, I did kill my momentum, but I pushed through!

Can I redraw these / make fanart /anything based on this?

YES PLEASE I MAY BE AROACE BUT ID KISS YOU IF YOU DID ANYTHING WITH THIS. There is very little set plot to this all, so go bonkers. please just if you make nsfw, *dont* send it to me. If you make anything that isn’t, please *do* send it to me! My notifications are a little broken, so dm me a link directly if you want me to see it :3.

Why? Just why all… this?

Brain rot mostly. I like birds, I like avian au’s, I like team fortress, why not chuck it in a bowl and stir? And if I made one mercenary, I kinda gotta do all the others, no? Ain’t right otherwise…

[haintxblue]

marie kondo, swedish death cleaning, and decluttering at the end of optimism

my brother died homeless. he died in a gas station parking lot in 2020, from a fentanyl overdose. a pedestrian found his body behind the dumpster and called the cops, but it had already been found and unreported. when we received his possessions we discovered that his pockets were still full of several dollars - the pockets under his body - but that the bible he always carried with him had been absconded with, along with his cigarettes and lighter. but he left behind boxes in my mother's storage, stowed there during a time when he thought that one day he might want them: knick-knacks and framed photos, favorite shoes, to stock up some future apartment that he would never have but that he must have imagined at the time was achievable. my mother pretended not to cry as we silently threw them into the dumpster, unwilling to open them and go through them.

during my recent homelessness scare (which is still pending, but it's looking like we have some reprieve, at least) i started frantically clearing my space/packing/purging for preparation to live in my car. it reminded me that years ago, when i thought i had some hope at a stable, if meager and poor, future, i got into the konmari method and lived very minimalist for a long time, buying very little and keeping less. i had one cup, one lipstick.

the foundation of the konmari method is that you should envision your ideal life. one that is aspirational, but achievable. her example in her book is a woman who wants a "feminine" life--she wants to come home and wear white clothes, burn incense and do yoga, recline on her sofa and drink tea and read.

the idea is that you then systematically begin combing through your things and discarding everything that does not accord with that vision of an ideal life, except what you absolutely need to survive (or, in other words: in your ideal life you may not do housework, but you do have to do housework, so keep your broom). mercilessly but with gratitude and thoughtfulness curate your space for that ideal life.

i find myself in an odd place where the process of purging made me want to return to this: certainly, the panic of finding a way to live out of my trunk would be less if i had less stuff to make room for. but i have no aspirational but realistic life left available to me. all avenues for this are gone to me. i have spent literally years attempting to find a job that would allow me to afford even a rent-assisted studio apartment, and watched as the rents went up and the wages went down, until finding such a position seems incredibly laughable now.

what is my ideal, konmari life? there is no house, nor even an apartment; i can barely fathom the idea of a roomshare. there is a car that i live in. i suppose my ideal life is one in which i pass for a housed person, and am not burdened by filth, either my own or my space's. i suppose in my ideal life if that car breaks down i can do something about it, but that isn't a konmari problem. i suppose in my ideal life i find ways to look presentable, and to sit at the zoo and draw, like i do now, on my tablet, and thus make enough money to feed myself. i suppose in my ideal konmari life i have room for lipstick and even moisturizer in my car next to the non-negotiable body wash, shampoo, deodorant, and sunscreen.

what do i keep? i go through my things. she says you should keep what "sparks joy," a directive i have always had to filter through the practical limiter of my intense anhedonia. i hold my collection of pink porcelain birds, and there is no joy, nor can i imagine them in any life that is open to me. i put them into the box bound for the donation center. my mother went to four separate stores until she found them for me.

as before, it gets easier as i go. the ease is not contentment and satisfaction as it was before, but a sense of finality. the bear-shaped string lights i bought just last month; a garland of rainbow tassels i have kept in every room i have had for the last seven years. mementos from friends. stickers kept for some future water bottle, when i ran out of room on the one i have. into the box or the trash bag, as i watch before my eyes all my hopes of stability vanish and feel calmness.

i keep a few things. i keep the tiny porcelain mice which were the first things i ever bought for myself as an adult and the only things i still own from any of those more optimistic times. i keep a few of my already-scanty books, thinking these will be useful to wile away hot nights. i even keep one candle, even if all i can do is stick my nose in it and inhale and remember burning the same smell during a time when i thought that i might one day be happy. i set aside a little box: everything that can go into the box, even if it is frivolous, i can keep.

i am sitting in my room amidst the boxes and bags stuffed with donations and garbage, with keepsakes and collections and the products of desperate impulse purchases made for the sake of some fleeting hit of dopamine, and i wonder if this is not so much konmari as it is döstädning, swedish for "death cleaning," an approach that encourages you to consider how your loved ones will be confronted with your things after you are gone, and to make their task easier. it feels more like death than an aspirational life to measure out a space on my bed the size of my trunk and begin attempting to fill it with everything required to sustain a life: a box for toiletries and medicine, a box for dried noodles and shelf-stable mayo packets, two boxes for clothes. it doesn't look like much, but i find myself thinking calmly that to be fair, it probably won't have to sustain a life for very long.

i think of my brother's boxes, put away against a future that would not come for him, left to be sorted through and trashed. all he really had, in the end, were cigarettes and a lighter and a bible that someone stole from him, and a handful of quarters. the rest was just a burden for us, to weep over when we wouldn't see each other, and pretend neither of us knew the other was crying.

it gives me some satisfaction to think that it is within my means to avoid giving someone else the pain of combing through items i had saved against some unachievable future where i might be able to use them. some things, i suppose, will have to stay. i have a giant, lifesize plaster mold of a water buffalo that my mother will never let me get rid of. "you'll want it," she'll say, "when you move back out into your own place again." and we know, when she says it, that that day will never come. but she needs something to hang onto, even if i don't. so it can stay, while the rest goes, and i make the task of cleaning up what's left of the wreck of my life easier on whoever it falls to, whether it is her or someone else.

i used to love to curate a space. i used to love to turn from my work to the little tableau of things i loved. i used to think that it might one day, if i could hang onto it, make me happy.

i will never have that again. but there is a sick relief in the cessation of striving and denial. i do not know how long i will live; it may be twenty years more; i certainly will not hasten to that end as long as i have a mother to mourn me. but i have moved beyond the konmari aspiration of curating an ideal life, and into the finality of döstädning in a sense that seems very literal. these are the remains of my optimism and my hopes. please, whoever finds them, discard them for me. i have made it easy for you.

[5t4r1i9ht]

I've moved for place to place trying to find a place that truly enchants me, I get word of Romania a beautiful country known for its castles and landscapes after studying the language for a while only to get partially fluent I decide it's time to move out, I've enjoyed Florida with the warmth and it's beaches but it truly isn't for me. Grabbing my leather Swiss army bag and a duffle bag and a pack pack I set out. I get on a train heading to Vâlvea County, on this trip I take out my laptop and begin to message the person I plan to stay with for the first few months till I get on my feet, he was the reason I planned to move to Romania anyways. He and I have been friends since I was little, we met at my middle school both of us were Cuban and we bonded over our interests in art. 'Andrew' though my nickname for him was 'Scot' somehow and he called me 'Nyx' I've always been enthralled by the stars and night sky.

"Hey how many more hours do you have till your here" -'Scotty <3'

"About and hour and 30 mins now"-'Nyxxypoo'

"I know your..different but some of the stuff here is intense, you won't be able to leave after coming here Nyx. It's your decision but I want you to be sure.- 'Scotty <3'

"I'm certain Scot, don't worry about me remember I may be older now but I'm just as skilled or more!"-'Nyxxypoo'

"I know I know, I'll see you soon<3"-'Scotty <3'

I smile and prepare some designs of jewelry I'd like to make before arriving at the village, a piece of amber that has a fly infused in it  is what I hope to be my first finished project after moving in.

-Time skip-

I got off the train, Scot said he'd be here soon to pick me up. When a Dacia 1300 pulled up that was purple with pale green accents I knew it was him "Hop in loser I got a lot to tell you" I roll my eyes putting my bags in the trunk and pulling out an Amethyst necklace that I made for him. I go to the front seat accidentally slamming the door warning me a glare from Scot, I pull out the necklace smiling oddly making his glare soften. Taking it from my calloused hands he smiles softly "thank you Nyx" I smile proudly seeing it fit his vibe. Off we go, he began to ramble about the village I signed myself off for, cold, a god? That's a woman? 4 lords?, huh? I blanked out a bit and after dumping enough information to fit inside the sun he turns to me "did you get that?" I nod awkwardly 'no' he sighs "you'll see anyways it should be fine." Now that concerned me. I raise an eyebrow "we're hereeeee!" He bursts out with a grin. I sigh opening my sides door and walking to the open trunk taking out my bags we head to the door as he fumbles with his keys. "I split the garage in half so now you'll be able to do your stuff and I'll do mine. you can put your stuff here" he motions to the now open side of the door. 

WOW.

This is real.

And definitely happening.

I need a drink.

———

This is my first time making a comic like this so I apologize for the messiness but I added the fic I based it on, it is my work so there’s no need to tag another creator but I do hope you enjoy this silly comic I plan on posting more here, I just got over a years worth art block so I hope it’s no problem. Eventually I’ll move to digital media but my drawing tablets cable broke so I need to wait to buy a replacement ❤️

[canary0]

May 16 – Dracula 2023

Written in the margins of a book

My god, what’s happening here? I want to accept the evidence of my eyes and ears, but how can I? I may already have lost my mind. If I am still sane, I feel like I’m on the edge just knowing that, of all the horrors that hide in the shadows of this castle, the Count is the least dangerous. It’s at his whim that I’m safe, and only while I’m useful. I have to keep breathing deeply as I write this to try and cool my head – if my emotions get the better of me, I really will go mad. I always wondered what Shakespeare meant when he had Hamlet say,

“My tablets! quick, my tablets!

‘Tis meet that I put it down.”

As of right now, I feel like I’ve lost it or like my brain is going to collapsed in on itself. Putting it all down helps – maybe make it easier to accept the reality of what I’ve seen.

The Count’s warning about sleeping elsewhere was scary; now it’s terrifying. This whole situation strikes me as having been a win-win for him. If I had followed his warning, I would have stayed exactly where he wanted me. If I did what I did and wandered, I would find the door (that I doubt was left unlocked on accident now), and have an incident that would make me afraid to disobey in the future.

I truly am, now knowing what lies in the dark. I’ll enter everything accurately, as before. It helps a little.

Once I was finished typing, I shut down my computer, packed it away in its bag. I felt sleepy, and I took some pleasure in the small act of defiance in flaunting his rule. Looking out into the wide expanse past the windows was soothing, and my eyelids were getting heavy. Who knows if I would have even made it back to those gloomy rooms I shared with the Count’s presence, and the claustrophobic feeling it created. I wanted to rest here, in these soft, comfortable rooms where ladies had long ago had spent time singing, heartsick as they waited for men to return from the wars that raged through this land over the course of history. The dust honestly couldn’t have mattered less to me in the moment, as I slipped my laptop bag under the couch and slipped the thumb drive into my pocket. I laid down and sleep must have overtaken me quickly. I thought so, anyway, but looking back on it, it all feels extremely real, and I can’t believe I was asleep – at least not fully.

At some point, I realized I wasn’t alone, even though the room hadn’t changed. I could even see my footprints in the moonlight. Opposite me were three young woman who certainly looked what I imagined noble ladies might. I thought I must have been asleep, since despite the moonlight being right on them, they didn’t cast a shadow. They came close and seemed to just study me for a long time before whispering together. Two of them resembled the Count – high, aquiline noses, and large, dark eyes that the yellowish moonlight seemed to cast as red. The other was beautiful, with wavy blonde hair, and blue eyes that were so eerily pale they couldn’t help but draw the eye. There was something strangely familiar about her face, like I had seen her before, and it filled me with fear, but I couldn’t tell you the source of that fear. They all had those bright red lips with teeth that stood out in brilliant white against them. I felt a combination of a bizarre longing and fear, some part of me hoping they would kiss me with those red lips. I hate writing that down – I don’t want to cause Mina pain with it. I need to record the truth here, though. To make sure everything is accurate and that my story isn’t changing in my own head.

They whispered together, then they all laughed – it was silvery and musical, yet something was hard about it. It didn’t sound like any sound a human would make. It sounded more like the sound of a glass armonica. The blonde shook her head, seeming bashful.

“Go on! You are first, and we shall follow; yours is the right to begin,” said one of the other two.

“He is young and strong; there are kisses for us all,” said the said the second.

I lay quiet and still, in anticipation. She leaned over until I could feel her breath upon me. It was sweet, but there was something wrong about the sweetness, like the sickly sweet of rot, or perfume covering the scent of blood.

I could see through my eyelashes, thought I was afraid to open my eyes any more than that. She was bent over me, seeming to want to savor the moment, and actually… I’ve seen people lick their lips before, but this looked more like an animal licking its chops right between a meal than that. The moon seemed to highlight her mouth, the red tongue passing over the bright, sharp teeth and red lips. Like a wolf, a wild thought came to mind. Like the wolves surrounding the carriage. Elegant predators about to take down prey that was helpless to stop them. I was frozen then, too.

I could feel her approaching my neck, the lips land, and then the hard press of sharp teeth indenting but not piercing. Yet. I waited with my heart pounding in my ears.

Suddenly, there was another presence, an unmistakable one, as if he had simply appeared in the room without the necessity of crossing space or going through doors. He grabbed the back of the woman’s neck and pulled her back with effortless strength. Her face contorted and reddened with rage, teeth chomping wildly with it. The image of a wolf only seemed to sharpen in my mind. The Count made her look meek as a lamb, though, and as weak as one in comparison. His eyes were blazing with fury so deeply they seemed to glow bright red in the darkness. His face seemed carved of pure white marble, pale white and marked with hard lines. He threw the blonde woman, then made the same sweeping gesture to the other two that he had made to the wolves. When he spoke, his low whisper cut through the air like a razor.

“How dare you touch him, any of you? How dare you cast eyes on him when I had forbidden it? Back, I tell you all! This man belongs to me! Beware how you meddle with him, or you’ll have to deal with me,” he snapped.

“You yourself never loved; you never love!” If I thought their laughter was hard before, I was still unprepared for this. It rang out, inhuman, soulless. It was cynical and bitter. The Count turned and seemed to study my face, as well.

After a moment, he whispered, “Yes, I too can love; you yourselves can tell it from the past. Is it not so? Well, now I promise you that when I am done with him you shall kiss him at your will. Now go! go! I must awaken him, for there is work to be done.”

“Are we to have nothing to-night?” The woman who spoke, pointed to a bag on the floor that wriggled a little and moved as if something alive were within. They opened it, and I heard a sharp intake of breath, and what I could only hope wasn’t the wail of a child. I can’t think of what else it could have been, though, and just writing that makes me feel ill. They vanished, though, and the bag with them. They seemed to fade into the moonlight, their silhouettes visible in it briefly outside before they disappeared. It was too much – I finally passed out.

I woke in my own bed – the Count had to have carried me. Nothing matched the habits I have of when I go to sleep. The solar charger wasn’t set in the window. My clothes were folded up and set aside oddly. It’s circumstantial evidence at best, though. So, naturally, since my laptop wasn’t immediately on hand, I got dressed and went to go look for hard evidence. Searching my rooms didn’t turn it up. I looked everywhere and then, with great hesitation, left to go find that room again.

The door is now so thoroughly jammed into the frame that it’s impossible to open. I could see splinters around the edge where it’s actually pushed into the stone. My laptop must be in there, and if it is, then I really did go in there. What I experienced at least partially took place.

Now my laptop is gone, too. Everything I might have used to contact someone if I got out of here is gone. My phone is destroyed. My laptop is locked away. My only comfort is that it should be hidden well enough, and even if it isn’t, he can’t get into it. Document security is important, so it had password and biometric locks. Maybe he’ll get frustrated and throw it off the cliff. I feel I could only be so lucky at this point. What I’ve already written is with me still, at least, which is a comfort.

So here I am, writing in the margins of a book from the library because it’s the only paper I have access to. The old train timetables, at least, leave quite a bit of room for this. It’s not huge, so I’ll keep it on my person, lest that get taken from me, too.

(A/N: It struck me that there’s no way Jon would wait until May 18th to go looking for his computer. That shit’s important, and it’s his last lifeline. It’s saying something that the best he feels he can hopeful at this point is that it gets dashed on the rocks.

It feels like the plot is slowly starting to step apart from the original.

Hell yeah, back on schedule, baby.)

[cuddlingdragons]

life updates and such!

so… it's been about six months since I last uploaded something to any of the art gallery sites I'm part of. it seems as good a time as any for reflections and updates.

essentially, since August 2022 i've been dealing with cubital tunnel syndrome and other vague overuse injuries in my in my upper back/shoulder. What I initially thought-- and by extension my doctor also probably thought-- was that a few weeks of rest would take care of it. That obviously hasn't been the case and I feel that the source of my injuries has probably been years of hardcore computer use. I coped with the onset of the pandemic by getting lost in my computer, the results of that simply are what they are.

I started physical therapy in October and learned some stretches and exercises to help with my recovery. got discharged from physiotherapy at the end of January with some mild improvements!

it's currently mid March and and I can say that my shoulder situation is a -massive- improvement from when I first brought it up to my doctor. It's not 100% but it's manageable with heating pads and I don't see any reason to believe it won't keep improving. a huge game changer for me has been fixing a tablet driver so that I navigate the computer with my old drawing tablet instead of a mouse. instead of a keyboard I use dictation software, I pretty much don't use my phone except for calls and timers, and I read and dictate stuff on my ipad. occasionally I let myself have 15 minutes of drawing or playing a video game. it's not ideal but it's better than it was

Arms-wise its… a little complicated. I'm Having so much less neuropathy tingles, but I have daily intermittent pain in my elbows. That wasn't there when I initially went to my doctor, so I'm curious about how they'll assess it when I see them again. I'd put it at 1/10 on the pain scale, but it's still really limiting because it's easy to make it worse by putting too much pressure on the elbow muscle, like using a screwdriver to try and open up my Wii. (not my brightest decision.) I attended TFCon in LA last last weekend and OOF, it was an interesting reality check to see how I do without access to a heating pad or ice packs all day. (At least I had the foresight to pack ibuprofen!) Soreness went back to my normal levels after a day but I'm having tingling in my right ring finger again. So yeah- there's improvement! still feels like a long way to go say before I can hopefully be at zero on the pain scale.

I know this post is already long but I want to say I was initially really devastated by this development. What has helped me has been to remember times I've had friends get sick or injured, and while I didn't get to speak with them as much as I wanted to for a while- I didn't stop loving them or caring about them. I have faith that the feeling is either mutual or we can simply pick up where we left off if I can't get to you for a while.

I hope that you are well, or as well as you can be at this time.

- siz

[kleinstar]

wouldja believe it, yuri had enough time between body swaps to do some birthday shopping! he isn't the one to deliver it (just in case anybody with sticky fingers took over mid-journey), instead, the gift bag's semi-willingly carried by none other than his trusty canine.

inside is a drawing tablet with a sticky note attached, reading "idk anything about these but the teenage store clerk with a self-made yaoi pin said this model's "like, the best!" 👍" he made sure to throw in a pack of speedy the porcupine pencils for eiden's traditional art, too.

(...and if eiden digs aaaall the way to the bottom, there may or may not be a familiar, horned headband with another note that simply states "happy bday demon lord").

" Repede!!! Ahh let me pet you before I take that--- who's a good boy ~~"

Eiden gives the canine's head a generous ruffle whether he wants it or not before accepting the gifts.

" Ah, don't go yet I have something in return! " he quickly continues, " of course I'll look through these first! I'll give you a treat for your efforts of course! "

And so he does, snorting at the pin but not in bad faith. Promptly he sticks it into his bag too. The headband elicits even more laughter and happily he sticks it over his head.

With Repede comes back a message and a package:

Bwahaha!! You needn't to send me gifts hero! Everything made here safely. I'll make use for these pencils of course, they seem a fine quality enough to shake a world....This Speedy guy seems powerful.... To think you'd gift me my natural crown as well.. -The Demon Lord

In the package is some beef jerky for the delivery and a darkpurple and grey beaded bracelet with some silver Repedes in between and another note:

thank you gift - for everything and not just the gifts either but for the passed year and all the fixings you've done and most importantly - for being a friend!