#yes another comm

[frozenhi-chews]

Commission from @bunbunsheart !!! I'm still going nuts over this, thank you so much!!

Lil chibi of Pancake and Arthur!!

Other versions!!

Tagging: @wisp-herr @jils-things @cherubdulce @speedstershipping @impurra @bioexorcizm @jocelynships @gible-love-nibles @gideongrovel

[littleplantfreak]

Honnii was the sweetest in the whole world to commission with and when I was showed two potential sketches I insisted on getting both because they were too cute (● ˃̶͈̀ロ˂̶͈́)੭ꠥ⁾⁾

[moshaeu]

i am actually in love w ur art style i want to eat it. it reminds me of a sugar cookie. do you do commissions

tyvm 🍪 but i am sorry anon… i don’t take commissions at the moment 😔

[rosesradio]

i recently saw a post about how fanfic authors shouldn’t take commissions because it’s “greedy” and you’re “using someone’s work as a crutch” and “you should write for free as a passion”…i understand you can’t monetize your work on ao3 because of how the site works and how you shouldn’t have to monetize your hobbies, but oftentimes the current state of the economy makes any means of making money necessary…

a writer’s word has a lot of sentimental value that varies from person to person. the work’s potential financial value is the same. it honestly doesn’t matter if said writer is struggling financially or not—they deserve to be compensated in the event they are making a creative work requested by someone else. if a writer wants to do requests for free, that’s fine, but it’s not “entitled” to want to establish a payment for fic commissions.

if an artist is “allowed” to do commissions for fanart (as they should), a writer should be, too. the fact that that’s even a debate or that writers feel the need to defend themselves just goes to show the state of fandom and how “content creators” are really valued.

[disaster-magician]

Had a lot of fun using the template by anikiri._.6 on insta and my most recent comm from @sunflowerpin to show off my baby more 💕

[iesbiandisaster]

Me buying yet another selfship commission of me and Jason knowing damn well I need to move money into my savings

[kingbcwser]

             “Hehe, weeeell, it looks like SOMEONE is jealous because people are fighting for MY attention.”

[vos-videmus]

Steel your breath

🎨: @necromosss

[sanchoyo]

something very silly, a color swap edit and Pink Knight edit. i Am So Excited for Season Two to see My Son. Thank u 🫴

[bpdalfonse]

vibrating at the thought of more art of my oc

[thevirginslvt]

daaaadyy’s hoooomee

[spiderziege]

i really wish i could afford to commission bc your art is insane. i audibly gasped when i saw your grumbot. i'm going to show your art to my irls and they are going to lose their shit and probably follow you

thank you so much :') that means a lot <3

[innytoes]

Winter Prompts! 15 & 29 for Reggie/Carrie?

@invisibleraven is to blame for suggesting Nuclear Winter Apocalypse AU and @salamandergoo for suggesting romantic bunkers at the end of the world in response to me complaining that it's hard to write winter fics in LA because the temperature is like Dutch Summer. Also for @bananakarenina who asked for prompt 29 and the rarepair of my choice.

Reggie wasn't even supposed to be there when it hit. He was supposed to be at home, in Silver Lake, making himself a PB&J while he pretended his parents weren't both at separate bars drinking themselves to death.

At least they died doing what they loved, Reggie had thought once.

The point was, he wasn't supposed to be there. At Carrie's mansion. He'd been tutoring her in math, and when the warning had come, when Trevor Wilson had grabbed her and thrown her in the chopper, he'd kind of... herded Reggie along as well. And told him to shut up and not ask questions.

He shut up, didn't ask questions, and tried not to write his own True Crime podcast episode during the chopper ride. Rock Star Trevor Wilson goes insane, kidnaps daughter's classmate. They never found the body. When asked, Mr Wilson said he didn't like how the punk was looking at his daughter, with her cute little nose scrunch when she was thinking really hard...

Except he wasn't murdered. He was pulled into a luxury nuclear bunker of the rich and powerful, 15 minutes before the end of the world. They watched it on the TV, silent and horrified.

That had been two years ago. Sometimes, Reggie liked to sit at the big door to the outside world and watch the little screen. It was always snowing now. Also, it was one of the only places that was quiet and he could be alone.

Not that he hated everyone in the bunker, or anything. The Pattersons were nice, their son Luke had quickly become his best friend. His mom was some kind of high-ranking government official. Or maybe a spy. He wasn't sure. His dad was a university professor, teaching both Modern Politics and Philosophy.

The Molinas had been the one to take him in after it became clear that he wasn't exactly, um, planned to be here. Tía Victoria was a scientist, specialising in infectious diseases. Mr Molina, her brother-in-law, had been a photographer, but turned out to be really good at fixing computer systems too. He'd gotten their connection to the other bunkers across the world going.

He wasn't sure what had gotten the Mercers into the bunker. They had a top secret lab way down deep in the lower levels with a lot of security. They always seemed kind of put out that they had to share the bunker with other people at all. Their son Alex was really nice though, if you could get him away from his parents.

And of course, there was Famous Rich Rock Star Trevor Wilson, and Carrie. Carrie who held herself tight and controlled, and had set about making friends in that Pretty Popular girl way she had immediately, working the room. It was fascinating to see, but she was pretty much the only person the Mercers let Alex hang out with regularly.

But Carrie seemed angry with him pretty much all the time. Or maybe just the world. What was left of it. It was just that Reggie was the safest person to take it out on, he guessed, parentless, unplanned, a stupid mistake her father made in the heat of the moment. He tried not to begrudge her that, even if her comments and cold shoulder kind of hurt.

He'd tried to make himself useful. He did extra chores, he tried to keep Luke out of trouble and get Alex to smile. He never took more than his share of food. He usually slipped Carlos any treats they got (if he got one at all).

When he got sick, he tried to hide it. They were in a locked bunker, okay, he'd seen enough sci-fi movies about deadly pandemics. He was a risk. But of course Ray sent someone to find him when he didn't come home. He managed to evade them for a few days, but the sicker he got, the slower he got. When Julie finally found him, curled up behind some sheets in the laundry room, she felt his forehead and said 'you had a fever'.

He closed his eyes. They were going to send him outside through the air lock for the safety of what was left for humanity, he just knew it. He was going to miss his friends. He was going to miss talking about photography with Ray, and playing games with Carlos, and making faces at Alex behind his parents' back until he cracked a smile.

He may or may not have passed out then. That was probably for the best. Maybe he wouldn't feel his death. Maybe he could just slip away quietly, without pain.

Except he woke up in bed. Not his bunk bed in the room he shared with Carlos, a single bed, in a room he didn't recognise.

Was this some kind of... quarantine? The door opened, and he sat up. And then quickly scrambled to pull the sheets up, because yep, totally naked under those. He squinted at the person who came in, wearing a face mask and a hair . She was carrying a tray with something on it, something that smelled delicious.

"You shouldn't be contagious anymore, but I'm not taking any chances," the person said.

Oh, Carrie. Had she drawn the short straw? Why else would she be here?

He tried to speak, but his throat was so dry all that came out was a wheeze. Carrie squinted at him above her mask, before pushing over a bottle of water. He opened it and drank gratefully.

"They found the germs that made you sick," she said. "They were the cleaning supplies you used. Something about sponges and bacteria, blablabla I wasn't listening."

"Oh," Reggie said, fidgeting his fingers together. His stomach growled, and he blushed.

"Eat your soup," Carrie said, plunking the tray on his lap. He was glad she didn't seem to notice he was, well, pyjama-less at the moment. He tried to keep the sheets over his shoulder while he grabbed the spoon. God, this tasted so good. Was it because he hadn't eaten in a few days? After two bites, he ditched the spoon, grabbing the bowl and sipping from it.

Carrie was watching him, with a strange look on her face. Probably thinking about what a rude weirdo he was.

"You don't have to stay," he said, awkwardly.

"What, you don't want me to stay?" she snapped.

"I mean, you don't have to stay," he tried again. "I won't tell if you want to leave. If anyone asks I'll say you stayed with me the whole time to make sure I didn't choke or whatever reason they're making you stay."

"They're not making me do anything. I made you soup because I love you, you dense piece of sponge cake!" Carrie snapped at him. He gaped at her. She went on, flustered. "I mean, I just heated it up, I didn't make-it, make-it, but it's the thought that counts and it was from Dad's secret stash and if you tell on me I'll make sure you regret ever getting better and..."

"Hey Carrie," Reggie interrupted her, and she snapped her mouth shut and glared at him. "Thanks. I like you too. I ah... I always have. Since, you know, Before. I just... didn't think I'd have a shot, because you're you, and I'm... I'm me."

He'd been a nobody then. Just some poor kid from Carrie's class who happened to be good at math, so Mister Ratburn had set them up for tutoring. And now, he was still a nobody, here in this bunker full of important and smart and rich people.

"That's exactly why I like you," Carrie said, flopping down at the foot of his bed. "Because you're you. No matter where you are, you're always just Reggie. Sweet, helpful, sunshine Reggie. You never have to pretend because of the paparazzi or, or all these snobby smart scientists in the bunker, or..."

Oh. Maybe Carrie had felt a little bit of the same, down here. Considering her dad only got a spot because he was really rich and probably had connections or something. Like she didn't deserve to be here.

"Maybe you don't need to pretend either," he suggested gently. "You're pretty awesome when you're just being yourself, you know."

"Really?" she asked, half hopeful, half suspicious.

"Really."

[needlenxggin]

"...fuzzball?"

[bemuseing]

Really, it's no surprise that he or his sister would gravitate to "adopting" one or two younger ones... or more. A long time ago, there were more...

[i-mybrunettelady]

okay, so. i’m grinding drizz, as one does (seriously i spend a good chunk of my gaming hours there) and it makes me consider a portion of nyra lore i don’t think i’ve talked about much before - her mounts!

mentions of animal injury below!

her only official mounts rn are her raptor trippy and her skyscale maurizia (pronounced mauriTHia thank you very much) and they’re both very much present with her during icebrood saga.

trippy is there with her for the first half of it, up until drizzlewood. she was trapped with him in bjora in darkrime delves alongside almorra’s grave because the snowstorm was so bad she had to wait it out with the grave of her order’s general - order she watched slowly thin out by the way - which is y i k e s. not being with trippy, who is like an oversized dog but with claws and lizard-y. everything else about it is. he then almost died by falling so terribly he injured his spine and she branded him so he’s half-branded now, like her!

maurizia takes over after that, because she sent him home to recover for a bit. i imagine she’s flown on zia’s back for scouting purposes across the entirety of the map. there were snipers, of course - but if they so much as grazed zia’s wings, they had the full wrath of the legendary commander to contend with. also, the sight of nyra flying down on a skyscale of all things must have chilled blood in dominion’s veins (i know it would in mine) considering that by icebrood saga, nyra’s quite a proficient skyscale rider.

(don’t ask me where she keeps a whole ass skyscale. she just does. when she lets me know i will let you know as well.)