#zeal Ives

[gtzel]

Finally decided to reveal the face of the person who’s always holding zeal ;P

[sunlit-mess]

you always seem to draw a lot and like i wonder how you deal with burnout or art block

Burnout is nothing new,

I can't bear to fail this too

HOW TO DEAL WITH CREATIVE BURNOUTS :

Shut your brain off, and REST. Get away from your canvas for a while, take a breather.

Have FUN, Go ahead and boost your mood in certain ways you want to let off steam.

Socialize and interact with other people and treat yourself, eat what you like or do something you've like been dying to try with your friends/family. It's like a reward for doing hard work!

Reflect. Lessen being harder on yourself, you can only take so much, you don't want to break completely. Our ideas can be infinite, but our body is not.

If you want to start again, work comfortably on times you are likely to be productive. Get comfortable while drawing!

FOR ART BLOCK :

Almost the same thing with burnouts, actually!

Step away from the canvas. Step outside, Do other hobbies and such, read a book, listen to music, socialize, etc.

If you have 'failed works; works you think that are shit', draft them instead. You'll find them useful! You can try redrawing them again some other time.

Eventually, you'll take action when inspiration strikes.

----------

Having hyperfixation keeps my creative fuel maxed, especially with music or literature ☠️ though sometimes they can get so irritating bc I'd have nothing to think about but the same thing over and over huhu.

Outside the hyperfixations, also a struggle. But I like to research and collect information in order to find out how I want to execute whatever idea.

I also have too many ideas, and can be over ambitious, to a point it's like some Icarus thing... 😅 I fly too high sometimes, I crash so low.

I also tend to write them down, or just do thumbnails then drafting them for another day.

And trust me when burnout always take a toll on you, it's been years and I still deal with frozen shoulders and wrist-arm pains. If not that then it's lethargy, both mentally and physically. And more tbh. kms so bad HAHAHAHAA

Despite all the burnouts and handicaps,

I'm always hungry, always itching to create something.

[bugmistake]

hello gay people in my laptop! i would like some music recs if you're willing to give em! specifically metal or anything loud and like. crunchy. got a crunch to it. not in a granola way but like crunchy in ur ears! thank you !!! mwah

[warchord]

school doodles. i love scanners <3

[aflockofbees]

[iamthekarmapolice]

IPL are announcing whatever they plan to announce today….if it’s the bachelor route I’ve been waiting over 4 years for this………

[bosspigeon]

this isn't anon but who cares, top five favorite albums, GO

Hozier (Expanded Edition) - Hozier

Splendor & Misery - clipping.

Bloodmoon: I - Converge & Chelsea Wolfe

The Normal Album - Will Wood

Nova Twins EP - Nova Twins

[ashmcgivern]

That moment when you realize you've adopted a new son

In the days and weeks following an incident in which a group of celestials put a stop to a catastrophic ritual that could have threatened the Prime Material, Xanthanel was tasked with figuring out the details of what had occurred there. They had been slowly and gently interrogating Zerrias, one of the only survivors of the incident, a tiefling boy who they had rescued the day of after mistaking his aura for that of a true celestial. His family had played key roles in the ritual, before they were slain by Xanthanel themself. The act of performing the rituals themselves traumatized Zerrias, who eventually refused to participate in them. Feeling guilt for being the one who separated Zerrias from his family, Xan took it upon themself to work with the kid to not only pull what information they needed, but make sure he was settled in a safe space before he'd depart permanently.

Xan learned that Zerrias was a bright kid, liked to read, and had a good sense for right and wrong, but was shy and didn't talk much. Pulling information out of him without upsetting him took patience and care, but Xan had the time. He was guarded, and slow to trust, but once Xan proved that they were not a danger the kid was more willing to give up pieces of information in and amongst other conversation and activities. Over a period of time, Zerrias' personality began to shine through, and Xan found himself more and more invested with each trip they made.

Needless to say, there was no permanent departure.

[b4kuch1n]

good luck w the testing and a happy early new year!!

thank you it's already happened when this was sent but we all did get one free point for the listening section bc the audio fucked up and we didn't get to hear the part with the last question's answer. but I will now think this is luck borrowed from the future when this ask was sent

[cookies-and-creamless]

Balloon Art Day 10

Day 1 - Day 2 - Day 3 - Day 4 - Day 5 - Day 6 - Day 7 - Day 8 - Day 9

39. Monarch Butterfly - Henry

Each wing of this guy is at least as complex and detailed as most of the complete pieces I've made so far, so I'm really proud to have made this on my first attempt! I thought about a number of different ways to physically and mentally prepare myself for this, but in the end, I decided to just go for it. I'm pretty happy with how that decision worked out for me. I had some trouble very early on, but it didn't compromise the build in any way, and I was able to work through it pretty easily. The last mistake of any kind came at the very end of putting the first wing together, when my orange balloon was inflated just a little too much to separate into the final two bubbles. I substituted a small scrap of a balloon that I had leftover from the clownfish for the second bubble, and it worked out just fine in the end. After that point, the rest of the build went very smoothly. The second wing took less than half the time that the first one took, since the pattern is pretty repetitive and I had developed a good handle on the general bubble sizes and placements. Starting with Thompson the squid, I've kept a ruler handy to measure bubbles. As I've gotten back into this in the past few days, I've instead kept the ruler in front of me and not picked it up. This streamlines the measuring process significantly, at a slight cost of accuracy. One minor thing that bothers me about the way this ended up is that the wings really don't want to lay flat. It's not that big a deal, but that does definitely come down to accuracy and consistency. In general, I've improved a whole lot in those areas, so I'm very confident that I'll be able to do even better in the future, and I hope to continue showing off the results!

[fuckimrowan]

nothing like sidling up to your friends and whispering, "hey, its bru-tus," the day before the ides of march

[dballzposting]

just asking for future reference so i don't spoil anything on accident- how far are you into GT? the last thing you posted was about the tail end of the Baby arc

I'm rewatching the whole thing for the 2nd time in 4 months and we're on to my favourite 4 episode stretch in the shadow dragon arc lol

also also there's a character who only shows up in 1 episode that i LOVE but again. it's shadow dragon spoilers and honestly it's something I'd rather not spoil bc of how genuinely good the arc is

I'm a little ways into the shadow dragon arch (like, 5 balls in). I think it sucks. <- waiting for Goten to come back.

I think I only have like 10 episodes left which is so fucked up becasue Vegeta hasnt gone SSJ4 yet ... they wait until the very end to show the main gimmick ... IT OKKK becasue I domt care about SSJ4 at all. But I DO care that Vegeta retains his shiny pants when in that form. Just put some pearls on him and he'd be "LoveCop" by Royal Republic (<- They do powerdisco now.)

I wouldnt worry about spoilers becasue I've been trying to watch GT for two goddamn years and if I cant get theough 64 episodes in two goddamn years then that's on me. Cant expect the world to wait forever 💖

[ashmcgivern]

YOU CANNOT BE SERIOUS I ACTUALLY YELLED WHEN I SAW THIS thank you so much for drawing my son aaaaaAAAAUUUUGH you did him so much justice. He's so happy :']

@ashmcgivern's character, Zeal Eddison! I'm art fighting this year. :)

Anyway if you want to throw hands I'm right here. Hopefully I'll have time to do a decent amount.

[darylsfavoritegirl]

hey pookies

Summary: Yall remember that episode where Daryl and Beth stay in this cabin after losing the prison (season 4, ep 12 to be exact) and thet play games like i have never.... and spend such a quality time and it's one of my fav episodes EVER! so it's fem!reader and Daryl but they play truth and dare and sort of open up about their feeling towards eachother because they're again friends with benefits lmao but it gets tense somehow👀😭😭 they find themselves in the midst of an argument etc etc and it goes on

This was requested by @duffmckagansbandana but ive also been fantasizing about this idea forever!! kalp kalbe karsiymis eheheheh

Warnings: Daryl being a dick because he is drunk and kinda slutshames the reader. Daryl grips the reader's wrists and it kinda hurts (?) a little bit of suggestive content. mentions of domestic violence/abuse

You held a glass of moonshine that Daryl found when you entered the wooden cabin. You were observing him securing the cabin incase something would occur.

"Looks secured enough to me." You mumbled spiritlessly. You took a sip of your moonshine as Daryl turned to you with a weary gaze.

"Ya really think dis the best time to get hammered?" He uttered in an evident blaséd tone. You ignored his question as he went back to securing the walls, windows. You wanted him to join you, drink booze with you, speak with you. The glass in your hand got warm before you could even consider to drink one more.

You observed his biceps flexing as he was fixing a hole on the wall. He was finally done. He turned to you, took a deep breath. You could see the sweat droplets on his forehead. His sleeveles black tshirt had damp spots around the neckline.

"You went the extra mile there." You said, failing to hide the waggish smirk bearing your face. He didn't respond to your statement but you saw the curls of his lips going upward.

He sat across you on the floor. His eyes were glossy, faint. You smiled softly as you poured him some moonshine. He gaped at you, anticipating you to stop. It was moonshine after all, God knows how long it had been sitting in this junk.

"Hey slow down." He uttered thinking you were gonna gulp down it yourself.

You saw his eyes following your motions when you passed the glass of moonshine to him.

"What? It's for you."

He didn't look at the glass once, his eyes were fixated on you

"Someone's got to keep watch." He spoke

You rolled your eyes in a cheeky way.

"No harm in drinking one glass."

"Go on." you added. Your eyes were pointing the dusty glass that was infront of him.

He gave in. He put the glass near his nostrils, sniffing the drink before taking a sip.

"That's a real drink right there." You said in a jolly tone.

" 's warm." He grumbled. He enjoyed drinking with you. The way you looked so content only made him cheer inside.

"Meh tha's a drawback." You said. You were popeyed. He couldn't deduce the basis of your zeal, yet he didn't question it furtherly.

You two spent a few minutes there, studying the cabin, studying each other when you decided to come up with something.

"You up for playing truth or dare?" You said in a hush that only left Daryl with a confounded face.

"What? Like kids?" He tittered lightly.

"You got a better idea?" You said with a significance of rebelliousness in your voice. You glared at him, waiting for a response.

"I'm worried about the others too but we can't spend this time just stressing one another." You muttered, avoiding an eye contact with him as you looked down at your drink and tapped the glass with your index and middle fingers. It was the reality. You were worried about the others, maybe even too much. However the best thing you could do at the moment was to hope for their well-being until you and Daryl started looking for them. He must've read your mind, he always did.

"Fine. Yea go first." He mouthed. Your mood shifted into a cheerful one by with just 4 words coming from him. You leaned forward slightly.

"Truth or dare." You queried. He leered at you in a gloomy way. You knew he was gonna end up savoring the game, one way or another in spite of feeling childhish at that moment.

"Truth.'' His tone barely above whisper.

You both took a sip from your drinks consecutively whilst you went on a ride in your head to come up with something to ask.

"What was your first impression about me?" You asked, not being able to hide the eagerness in your voice.

His eyes watched you cautiously. His gaze shifted somewhere else, trying to reckon the first day you met. A subtle smirk appeared on his face.

"Thought yea wer' cocky. Too cocky, even." He scoffed softly. You both stayed in quietude to remember the very first day you encountered with eachother. You chuckled.

"That was my coping mechanism. Confidence."

"Cocky." He opposed you in a childish manner, his eyebrows furrowed lightly at you.

You leered at him for a minute. You knew he was also thinking the first days when they took you in. You were drawing too much attention to yourself, pretty much everyone thought you'd be dead in a fortnight, though you didn't.

You sighed. Neither of you enjoyed thinking about any day in prison, it ached you in deep down. Neither of you could envision what your next move should be, spending this time in a wooden cabin in the middle of the woods didn't make it any better. You were in the midst of a chaos and it felt as if all your efforts were in the aim of lightening your agony.

Daryl reached for the moonshine jar that was sitting near you. He started pouring himself another drink. He almost filled the glass to the brim, peeking at you clandestinely incase you'd tried to stop him. You caught his leer and softly shrugged your shoulders indicating that you didn't mind.

He leaned against the wall of the cabin as he grunted. He took a big sip from his drink. You heard his gulp, the booze going down from his gullet. You couldn't help but chuckle at the sound, maybe you chuckled a little more than necessary. Gosh, you were getting lit; you thought to yourself.

Daryl guzzled up his second drink in less than a minute and poured himself another.

"Easy." You managed to say between your slowly-fading chuckles.

"And it's your turn." You hinted.

"Truth." You uttered without him having to ask.

He clattered an "Ahh." sound between his sips to imply he was notioning for a question. His eyes were locked on the ceiling, thinking, you glimpsed at his narrow, blue eyes. His gaze met with yours.

" 'S there sumthing ya didn't tell me 'bout the person ya wer'?" You looked dumbfounded, not catching what he could've meant by that. He must've read you like an open book. He scoffed " 'Fore all dis. 'Fore the world went to shit."

You couldn't fathom his question. He knew so much about you. He knew about your family that you stopped seeing after you moved to USA. He knew about your favorite childhood cartoons. He knew about your days as a school girl. He knew how you ended up in Georgia. He knew so much about you. Although he had never been the type to corner you with your life before the apocalpyse, you acknowledged that there must've been a lot of things you didn't tell him whether it was due to your choice or you never felt the need to do so.

"Yes." You said in cynicism. He remained silent. It was rather explicit that he wanted to investigate more; that he wanted you to elaborate.

Yet, you didn't. If he wanted to know more about you, he should've asked you more bluntly. You didn't avoid his piercing gaze. You could feel your nerves and brain going number with your increasing sips from the moonshine.

"I'm pretty sure there are atleast dozens of things I haven't told you about the person I once were."

He echoed a nonchalant glare. You, once again remained silent. You knew he'd always turn into an impossible and preposterous person to read whenever drunk. You questioned yourself. You questioned if this was a good idea after all.

He sighed. His eyes were narrower than before. He is getting wasted, you thought to yourself. You shifted your position wretchedly, grabbing your drink with both hands. You tried to put a constrained smile on your face.

The silence was unbearable so you spoke up. Your voice was raucity.

"So truth or dare?" You asked.

He gazed at you with a piercing look. You played the game not more than 5 minutes and the air had already started to feel stuffy due to intensity between you two. You couldn't understand why.

"Truth." He grunted involuntarily. He was only playing the game to pass time, to investigate and even corner you. His gaze was stern. Your smile faded away lightly. You thought of asking something private, asking something that was just about you two. Before you could even debate on that idea, you uttered

"Have you ever seen me as someone more than this?" You got hot. The alcohol was hitting you. You couldn't think clear, you spoke before giving it a second thought. You could feel your cheeks blushing. Your cheeks would never blush out of embarrassment nor humiliation. They would always blush when you did something extra, futile, stupid.

You didn't need to elaborate it. He knew exactly what you meant. He knew you had been wondering if he ever thought of you more than an appealing teammate whom he'd share a warm bed now and then. He had asked similiar questions to himself, always leaving them unsettled. He didn't want to give in, ever. He had to have a demenour where he wouldn't let anyone get too close. That was Daryl. Those were the obstacles he'd build towards anybody. You lifted your head only to meet his blue eyes. Daryl spoke the second he locked his eyes on yours.

"Ain't much of a world to keep your mind busy with that kinda stuff." He grunted. You got even hotter inside of your head.

"So, no?" You gawked.

"Didn't say dat." He looked at you with blank eyes. He didn't even get defensive whilst you were going nuts and trying your hardest to not make it plain. It was the intoxication. You were never like this. It was safe to say you did care about his feelings but you weren't a fool. You knew exactly how he'd close up, how well he'd hide in his shell.

"OK. It's your turn." You huffed as you darted away your eyes. Your temper highly depended on booze at the moment. You didn't need him to think that your mind was way too preoccupied with his words, the words that came out of his mouth with such ease. You hated the power he had on you sometimes.

He grunted with vexation as he shifted his position and leaned against the wall a bit more. Daryl rested his elbows on his knees, swinging his glass that had a little drink left in it in a motion. He kept eyeing you, so did you.

It was apparent that you both were bored to death, yet no one put forward the idea to stop it.

"Ya ever think 'bout the old world?" He grunted.

You raised your head, his eyes were squinting right at you.

"Didn't say truth." You hissed.

"Ya ain't gon' say dare neither."

"Right." You mumbled. He was biting on his pinky's nail out of lack of interest.

"Don't do that." You said as you grimaced.

"Ya gon' answer?" He insisted, his brows were slightly furrowed as he, not surprisingly, kept biting on his finger nails.

This game was all about you two finding something to bicker. You sighed. You were not looking at him but you could feel his eyes roaming all over you.

"Sometimes."

"Wish I could go back to those times." You whispered looking at the floor. Daryl's face darkened. You knew his life before the fall wasn't the greatest and perhaps this new world of silence, isolation was a jackpot for him. You caught his leer. Both of you remained in serenity.

You took a sip from the moonshine and asked the first thing that came to your mind.

"OK Daryl. Have you ever stolen something? like something big?" You begged with wide eyes. Only his eyes made you question yourself and your foolish question.

He kept swinging the glass in a slow motion as he narrowed his eyes at you. He wasn't offended. He wasn't angry.

"Ya know I didn't." He remarked. You sensed a sense of sorrow in his eyes yet you didn't step back, you never could when you were drunk.

"That's what you told me." You spoke, emphasizing the word "told" as if you were making it obvious that you didn't believe him. You kept your wide-eyed gaze. An undertone of exhilaration was on the surface of your voice.

"And after all, we barely knew eachother when we talked about this, right?" Stupid you, still couldn't make out what his gaze could've meant.

"Maybe you weren't being honest." You uttered.

"Come on. You must've done something with Merle." You insisted.

His gaze never left yours. You drank too much, you lost your basic human decency. Yet he responded spiritlessly.

"Was bein' honest." You could perceive that was the moment he lost all his interest in the game.

"Ain't no reason not to be, Merle was an ass."

He sighed. Great, now you reminded him his dead brother; at a time like this, in a place like this. Your smile and exhilaration vanished. Drunk you was never stable, you sighed as you looked down at your drink.

You lifted your head only to see him getting up, throwing his glass to the floor only for it to shatter in pieces. You flinched and leered at the pieces. You couldn't dare to look to his side. He grabbed his crossbow on the broken wooden table, slunged it over his shoulder.

"Imma take the first watch. Rest." He demanded. He breathed out before he left the cabin. You stayed there, not being able to move an inch. It was like you froze. You leered at the pieces of glass on the floor once again

"Fuck me." You groaned. You exhaled audibly, looking around the cabin. That was the moment when it hit you, he was drunk; way too drunk. God knows how he was holding up outside.

You immediatly got up, going out of kilter. You had been sitting for a long time, your body was cramping and you kept hitting to the dusty tables and chairs that were sitting in the middle of the cabin. Your head was spinning. You sauntered towards the door, grabbed the door handle. It made a squeaking sound that left you scrunching your nose.

"Come inside." You quaked, not looking at him. You were exhausted, maybe from the moonshine or maybe you were just, exhausted.

" 'm fine." He grunted. His back was facing you.

"Your drunk as much as me." You huffed with withered eyes. You were leaning against the door frame, your hand still gripping the door handle lightly.

Daryl scoffed.

"Your actin' like a child." You muttered under your breath. The alcohol was getting the best of you. His back was still facing you.

You leered at his messy hair, his vest, his arms gripping the crossbow. He was swaying in a slow motion, resting his weight on his right leg now and then.

"Just hate tha' ya still think 'm sum kinda redneck asshole." He muttered. He sounded rather disappointed, fed up with this whole situation.

"I don't." You whispered. Your eyes were wide, you couldn't process his words. He remained silent, typical Daryl.

"Daryl, I don't." You hissed as you grabbed the side of his vest, forcing him to face you.

He looked at your face with blank, stern eyes. You couldn't recognize the Daryl you knew in him. He didn't change his position, gripping the crossbow firmly as ever.

You were getting sentimental at his demenour. Your eyes were getting watery, you couldn't find words to utter. Nothing changed in him, in his cold stern stare that would make you hate yourself. He could never hurt you, that's what you told yourself but even a gaze of his could make you shatter inside. He got too close to you to a point where you could smell the booze from his breath. Deliberately, he rested all of his weight on you, cornering you against the door frame. You couldn't breath. He leered at your eyes with his blue piercing eyes for a hot minute when he spoke

"Ya'd be crumblin' 'n all if I spoke to ya 'bout your past." He hissed.

His glare was fixated on you as he got inside of the cabin. You breathed out quickly and wiped a tear that was to fall down on your cheek and looked at the woods.

"What the hell does that supposed to mean Daryl?" You turned to him. He was going through his backpack.

"Think ya kno' what I mean." He mumbled under his breath.

He grabbed a canned food and sat on the edge of small ladder. He wasn't looking at you but your gaze was at his fingers trying to get the canned food open.

"What if I don't?" You said calmly but at alert, waiting for his respond.

"I dun' kno'. Sellin' yer body for attention. Ring any bell?" He snapped, lifting his head to meet with your gaze. You stood there with complete silence, trying to process his words. His voice was pretty tall, which made you flinch.

"That's really low Daryl." You scoffed. You weren't offended, you were just astonished that he'd bring up your past as a barmaiden to hurt you.

"Right." He mocked. He was still on the small ladder, trying to open the canned food. He sighed as he threw it to the floor. He got up, completely ignoring you.

"Atleast I wasn't drifting behind Merle's ass, doing whatever he'd told me to do." You barked. You had lost yourself. You didn't care what your words would mean to him.

He turned to you, his arms flexing due to his firm grip on his crossbow. He got closer to you, his face was reddening. You could see his vein on his neck throbbing, he wasn't taking his eyes off of you. He clenched his jaw, lowering his eyebrows and leering at you with narrowed eyes.

" 'S tha' what'ca think?" He fumed.

"That's what I know." You uttered as you pout your face. You ran your hands through your hair to take a deep breath.

"Ya know nothing." He barked. He wasn't blinking.

"You were nothing." You whispered. Your eyes were getting red. You could feel them sting. Your vision blurred. Yet his rage was full of spitefullness. He gritted his teeth

"Pickin' up lonely dudes to get 'em pay ya was sumthin'?"

"Sumthin' yer dam' proud." He shouted as he pointed his index finger right at you.

You swallowed slowly. You were not looking at him.

"Just leave me be." You managed to mumble between your shaky, shallow breaths.

"No, I ain't gon' do dat." He boomed. He threw his crossbow on the mattres you two incompetently tried to turn into a cozy bed. He got closer to you, immediatly grabbing your wrists with his hands.

You looked at his hands grabbing both of your wrists quakingly. You weren't sorrowful nor furious. You were affronted at his grip on your wrists that left you in discomfort and almost, pain. You raised your head to meet with his hard-nosed gaze. You shook your forearms fiercely several times, hoping he would free you but he didn't. How could he do this do to you? Out of all the things out there, he chose to grip both your wrists. That was something you'd always highlight when you'd talk about the abuse you had to go through back when you lived with your family. How your father would grip your wrists and squeeze them thightly until you'd feel like passing out. You always told him how small it made you feel, how worthless. Didn't he say "What a dick" referring to your father. Now there he was, doing the exact same thing. You wouldn't believe it.

"Can't run yer mouth now, can yea?" He spat out. His voice was growing taller and taller. You tried to get to your other wrist with one hand only he would not let you;

"Daryl, you're hurting me." You panted, quickly exhaling. Your chest was going up and down rapidly, leaving you all panicked and crumbling under his brawny, firm grip. You looked directly into his eyes, looking for mercy; hoping this night would end without either one of you dying. His hard-nosed gaze not shifting into a softer manner at all.

You were still numb from the moonshine, so many thoughts pondering your head. You wanted to kiss him, end whatever this was. You were highly influenced by booze. You didn't care. You wanted to kiss him. You didn't know what the outcome would be.

So you did, you got on your tiptoes; your bodies were already too close. You closed your eyes and kissed him harshly on the lips. His grip on your wrists loosened, you almost toppled onto him which he didn't let it happen.

His strong hands grabbed the both sides of your face, pressing his lips onto yours like he pleaded for more of you. It all happened so swiftly that he shoved you on the wall harshly. He waited for a split second, his lips brushing yours. You could smell the pungent odour of alcohol mingled with the smell of cigarattes you smoked earlier that day. You didn't care. You wanted all of him. He panted rapidly against your lips. You stayed like that for a moment, his hands flawlessly placed on the temples of your head; the only thing you could hear was eachother's shaky breaths. You pressed your lips onto him once again. A tear that you had been holding so long fell down your cheek, you didn't mind. It was a joyful tear. You were both taking eachother breaths away that left your heart ponding like crazy. He rested all of his body weight on you, which you didn't complain this time. You could feel him growing under his jeans.

Your hands reached the collar of his vest and helped him take it off. You grabbed his bare shoulders and digged your fingernails into them. His hands shifted to your waist from the sides of your face. There was that void feeling in your stomach once again. How small you were compared to him, how you were like an insect which he could've crashed with his fingertips seconds ago.

You gasped when his hands went under your t-shirt, grabbing your hips and waist and stroking your skin. It became a sloppy kiss but you both liked it. Your whole body curved into his body, small moans escaping your mouth. He started going down on your neck from your plumpy lips. Your grabbed a fistful of his hair gently with your right hand, softly pushing his head down on your neck as he kept pecking on your soft skin.

You made up.

FOOTNOTE

Why is it actually so awkward do write even a basic kissing scene. it was painful. idk much about this fanfic it was way better in my mind but idc

@duffmckagansbandana deserves some credits too!! we exchanged so many thoughts during this :))

[aquiescentmoon]

WRATH

Wrath, a sin born in hell.

Rage of a crestfallen human.

A feral expression to a squall.

The mask of our suppressed fear,

Harping poisonous smear.

Wrath, the best friends of Pride and Envy.

Rudiment of grudge and heart’s peavy.

Aliment to kedge our vainglory.

The only boon, its ephemeral clutch,

Hatching us to a demonic apery.

Wrath, the battle where words are weapons,

Rearing our vengeance with gore.

Aftermath bestow us, a rueful eagre

To our soulful haven;

Heaping us, the impiety of Heaven.

Wrath, the self-injecting poison for

Renege of temporisers.

And giving a wistful smile

To those sycophants filled with bile,

Hushing us up, for a baneful exile.

Wrath, Oh! the soul’s woe for

Repugnant repudiation and remorse.

Alas! It never neglects evermore friends,

Tampering their memories and faith.

Hew them, they sprout as two gorse.

Wrath, the antipode of amity, which

Resents our benign soul.

An aumbry of crude impulse has

Trumped us up, like a ghoul.

However, a revival of innate zeal.

Wrath, the asperity teaches us,

Rekindling hope leads to dander.

A learning lesson from it, it’s you,

The trouble and the peace, it’s you,

Hitch and the solution, it’s you!

Wrath, the altruism‘s ending;

Revulsion’s inception.

Antidote to wrath is unconditional love.

The blistering karma has taught us,

Hate has four words, so does love.

SUMMARY:

‘Wrath’ is an Acrostic type of poem, in which the first letter of each line

spells out a word or a message. Every stanzas define, wrath in a unique way.

The below are the meaning of each stanza;

I. Wrath is a sin born in hell. It is the rage (extreme anger) of a crestfallen (disappointed) human. It is a feral (untamed) expression to a squall (storm). The mask of our suppressed fear, which harping (dwell/ think) us, as a poisonous smear(slander/ damage to reputation)

II. Wrath has two best friends, Pride (ego) and Envy (jealousy). It’s like when one sin gets turned on, automatically others join the party. It’s the rudiment (basis) of grudge and the heart’s peavy (lumberman’s sharp lever, to handle wood). Wrath acts an aliment (nourishment) to kedge (a small anchor, used as a support to pull a boat) our vainglory (excessive pride). The only boon (advantage) is its ephemeral (temporary) clutch on us and hatching (creating) us to perform a demonic apery (mimicry/imitation).

III. Wrath is the battle, where the words are used as weapons, making us to rear (breed) our vengeance (revenge) with gore (bloodshed). The aftermath of this battle bestow (give) us, a rueful (regretful) eagre (giant sea wave) to our soulful (emotional) haven (refuge; here means, our body) and heaping (piling) us with the impiety (sins) of Heaven.

IV. Wrath is the self-injecting poison for the renege (revoke one’s promise) of the temporisers (people who evade decisions to gain time or who beat around the bush). It makes us to give a wistful (vague) smile to those sycophants (people who tries to gain advantage over us) filled with bile (bitterness) and hushing us up (silently pushing us) for a baneful exile (harmful banishment; it means deserted mental torment which we feel inside our body, cause by wrath).

V. Wrath, the soul’s woe (suffering) for repugnant (unacceptable) repudiation (rejection from others) and remorse (deep guilt). And wrath never neglects evermore (eternal) friends, it tampers (interfere) their memories and faith. If you hew (cut) them, i.e. friends; they sprout as two gorse (thorny bush).

VI. Wrath is the antipode (opposite) of amity (friendship), which resents (envies/dislikes) our benign (kind) soul. Wrath is an aumbry (cupboard) of crude impulse (unrefined manner of action) which has trumped us up (falsely accused us) like a ghoul (a ghost). However, Wrath is a revival (refreshment) of innate zeal (inborn peace) of our body.

VII. Wrath, the asperity (the hate) teaches us, rekindling hope leads to dander (anger). A learning lesson from it,

It’s you, the trouble and the peace

It’s you, hitch (problem) and the solution

It’s you!

The above lines represents the wrath’s self-taught lesson, it’s us, who has to change, not the others!

VIII. Wrath is the altruism’s (selflessness) ending and revulsion’s (hatred) inception (beginning). The antidote (remedy) to Wrath is unconditional love. The blistering (flaming/fierce) karma has taught us, Hate has four words, so does Love!

OVERALL MESSAGE FROM THE POEM:

Wrath, unleashes our animalistic senses, which we hide deep inside our soul. It’s innate, can’t be changed, but can be controlled.

Buddha says, ‘You will not be punished for your anger, you will be punished by your anger’.

Wrath wraps and weighs down our soul and makes us commit vengeance.

Expectation and hope from others, are the two main reason for wrath. So expect less from others and be more content with yourself.

Happiness is the key to peace; sadness is the key to sin!

This is my first poem I ever wrote, my friend said her colleague is searching people for an anthology they are working on, it was short on time for a short story (as I used to write cliche short stories) I thought a poem (the shortest version of a story) would be great, but was stuck on topic, so grabbed one of the sins, WRATH, created my way out of it. I wrote the summary for my bsf, as she said the words I used are new and complicated to understand (🚨 BEGINNERS MISTAKE 😔 of using every fancy words we see) Ig, I can't bury my past as it shaped me the poet that I am today.

WRATH moodboard 🔥

[ashmcgivern]

Oh hello friends I've been busy. Also tired, but busy working on something I'm very excited about.

I wrote a level 20 Greatwyrm slaying adventure, inspired by Fizban's Treasury of Dragons, and am currently play testing the module. In order to run the adventure you'll need access to the PHB, MM, and FtoD, but the mod itself is going to be free. When done, it'll include somewhere between 6-10 custom drawn maps, about 25 custom drawn tokens, 3 NPCs built with personalities and stat blocks, and a pdf with everything you'd need to run this adventure.

It's built so it can be run as a oneshot or a 6-session adventure, you choose! Each part of the adventure is modular, so you can either swap in and out what you/your players have time for, or play the whole thing. And like I said, it'll be 100% free, I'll be putting in on KoFi or something similar to distribute it but I won't charge a cent for it.

So that's where I've been, and why it's been a hot minute since I've uploaded any art. This has been a project about a year in the making, as I've had time between my day job to pick at it. I'm not sure EXACTLY when it'll be ready for release, but it should be ready before the years end.

The working titles for this adventure are "Slaying Adatok" and "The Paragon of Shatterpeak," not sure which one I'll go with if either of them, but expect to see more as time goes on and as I get through my playtesting rounds!