#also there's an oc in here that i have not posted information about

[employee052]

What's this? An introduction so good it got a critically acclaimed sequel?? With New Content?!?!

Hi there! Welcome to my Stanley Parable Side Blog!

My name is Oswin, though you can call me Ozzie or Oz. My pronouns are He/Him, I am 19, and I am Filipino! I draw, animate, act, and play video games. I stream on Twitch occasionally, as well as post on Youtube, and Instagram. I also have a Carrd too if you're interested.

This is my TSP sideblog! I have other interests that I post about on my main @oswinunknown if you ever want to check those out, but this blog will contain all TSP related stuff (and Narrator Adjacent)

[The Narrator (Virgil) Design Iterations]

3.0 (Most Recent!)

2.0

1.0

[Other Designs]

Timekeeper/432

Curator

Adventure Line (Lynne)

[IMPORTANT] If you're wondering why my inbox, mentions, and replies are disabled at the moment. Please read this post for full information. (Its not long, I promise. It is very important however so I would encourage you to read it.)

[For more information on tags, F/Os, RP sideblogs, and More, Check under the cut!]

[Active Tags] #artswin is all art. including animation #animswin is animations specifically #oz rambles is just for words. #ozzie plays games is for video game stuff. #narry blog is for when i interact with my RP narrator blog. #tsproadtrip is all posts relating to the TSP roadtrip thread. #narry takeover & #narry takeover 2 is for the old narrator-blog-takeovers pre!RP blog.

[F/O's] [I ship these F/Os with my Self-Insert Sona/OC more than myself IRL. They are all platonic F/Os / Close Friends*]

The Narrator (The Stanley Parable) [BFF/QPR]

Mayor Damien (Who Killed Markiplier) [Platonic]

Gordon Freeman (Half Life) [Platonic]

Wheatley (Portal) [Platonic]

[* The Narrator is my primary F/O, specifically my Narrator who acts as my Best Friend/QPR Bestie. I also pretend like he is real sometimes as comfort. If you wish to ship yourself/an oc/your sona with him, please let me know beforehand!]

[RP Sideblogs] (ALL UNDER HIATUS)

@mrthenarrator my TSP Narrator blog. (ON HIATUS)

@theadventurelynne my teen!Adventure Line blog. (WIP/ON HIATUS)

My main blog is @oswinunknown. For more information, as well as my other interests, check there!

[Also, here's the original Intro Post if you want to see what the Sequel is building up from here askjhd]

#intro post #blog intro #pinned post #introduction post #remaking this post with more information #plus a meet the artist bc ive never made one of these before! #meet the artist #artswin #im organizing this blog sdkjfh

[children-of-epiales]

Tis the season

     Rouen didn’t dare turn around. She knew the boys were smiling because of how red her face was.

“ This is silly-why are you even getting invested in-in me being nice?” The question came out all wrong, but it’s all she could manage until the embarrassment wore off. “ You know what I mean!”

Joshua cracked up first, and it didn’t take long for Augustin to join him in the laughter. “ You see, Rouen, this is how we know you have a horrible crush on Ngoma.” The former pointed out. “ Giving a gift isn’t difficult for you, but if it’s for someone you love-”

“ I don’t love Néon!” Rouen hissed loudly and bitterly at the boys. Her eyes grew at what she just did and the brunette removed her glasses so she could cover her eyes. “ Why can’t you two just let me be miserable?”

“ Because you’re getting embarrassed and upset over something that is perfectly human,” Augustin answered, his voice carrying some fierceness as well. “ Joshua, me, Hayat, Evangeline-everyone knows you-you care about Sens more than you’d like. We want this to happen for you and we know you’ve been making your own efforts to get close with them anyway.”

“ They’re some very sad efforts, so I decided you earned yourself a B plus for trying multiple times.” 

Augustin glared down at Joshua, his eyes narrowed to remind the Irishman of the conversation they had earlier. “ Okay I know the joking doesn’t help-” Joshua said to correct himself, “-but can we all agree that there’s an easier way to go about getting close with someone instead of having multiple, short conversations about small details?”

Rouen had half of a mind to ask how long Joshua watched her approach Néon and lose nerve before she could say something important to them, the realization that they were being quite patient with her struck her. “ You’re right.” The brunette muttered as she leaned against the lockers. “ But giving Néon a gift-that’s really bold, and you know the rules about being buddy-buddy is around here.”

A loud “Ha!” escaped the boys at the same time. “ Don’t you worry about that, Rouen-we got the dirt about Pulse and Hibana being ‘buddy-buddy’!” Joshua announced cheekily. “ We heard that Mr. Sunglasses split with Hibana before he joined Nighthaven; how she feels about that-I couldn’t get-but that’s not important. What is important is that you have a chance.” 

“ Okay-” Joshua placed a hand on Rouen’s shoulder and they sat down on the bench together. “ How about we start small first? You invited Ngoma to the holiday dinner-we’ll host it on the twenty-seventh and then see about New Years, how’s that sound?”

“ The twenty-seventh? I can’t ask Néon for that-”

“ Of course you can.” Augustin cut in. “ Think about it: when’s the last time someone joined us in one of our celebrations? I think Six would certainly approve of the arrangement. And who would Sens be to say no?”

Rouen put her glasses on and let out a very tired sigh. Who would she be to back out of an opportunity to get closer to Néon? Especially when she had so much support? 

“ Just do me a favor…” The brunette requested. “ I’ll ask Sens to come to the dinner, but you two better let Evan know about this. The last thing I want is to have to explain myself in front of everyone-do you guys hear me?” 

Joshua sat up straight and saluted his friend. “ Understood, Ma’am!” He stood up and motioned for Rouen to hurry up. “ Now c’mon, c’mon! You’ve got a lovely Belgian person to ask out to dinner!”

“ Don’t say it like that!” Rouen chastised, her face immediately flushed again. 

While Joshua went to fulfill his end of the bargain, Augustin and Rouen went to fulfill the latter’s end and tried to look for Sens. 

They found the Belgian operator speaking to Melusi; they both still wore their Wolfguard uniforms, so it appeared they just finished training together. 

“ Those uniforms have grown on me-” Joshua quietly revealed to Rouen, “-especially those blue colors, I guess I was so used to what Nightmare was doing that the color choice seemed-I don’t know-bold? It certainly looks nice on Ngoma though, doesn’t it?” He patted his friend firmly in the middle of her back. 

Rouen rolled her eyes. “ You keep your mouth shut unless you’re absolutely positive you’re gonna say something helpful, got it?” 

“ Hey I’m the best wingman-” 

The brunette shushed Joshua before she tried to force herself to approach the two Wolfguard members; she paused upon noticing Sens already spotted her, watching as they and Melusi went their separate ways and they approached the two Nightmare members.

Feeling a sudden boost of confidence and determination, Rouen decided to dive head first into the conversation. “ So we were wondering-I was wondering but we were wondering too-there’s gonna be a dinner…” She paused, trying to think of how to make sense of all the babbling she just did. “ It’s going to be at my place this year, we-Nightmare-we try to do it every year and-and it’s fun and there’s food there. If you’re into that sort of thing.” 

She went quiet for a moment after noticing the humored smile that appeared on Sens’ face. “ I’m very into eating food for the holidays,” They said, “ are you asking me if I’d like to go?”

From behind Rouen, Joshua gave the Belgian a thumbs up. 

“ Yeah, I’m pretty sure I am…” The brunette confirmed, knowing her face was horribly flushed. “ If you can’t go, that’s fine too. I-uh-I know I don’t exactly see you as much as I should. I mean like talk to you when I see you-but I know you’re busy and all so-” Her chest felt so heavy, she wanted to fall to her knees and curl up in a ball. But Rouen knew she wouldn’t regret asking Sens to attend the dinner, this would be the first step of her attempt to make it known that she liked them.

“ Augustin and I are cooking this year too,” Joshua spoke up from behind the Canadian. “ We’re pretty damn good cooks, if I do say so myself.”

“ Oh, well if that’s the case-how could I refuse?” Sens said, shrugging their shoulders as if that comment sealed the deal. 

Rouen’s mouth fell open and she glanced back at her friend. “ What-are you two working together or something?” The question came out a little more sour than she wanted, and only Joshua knew that. 

Sens’ eyes grew a little, recognizing that the brunette clearly didn’t mean like being co-workers, but that they had agreed to play some nasty joke on her. “ Rouen, I wouldn’t just go to the dinner party for the food…” They put a hand on Rouen’s arm. “ I would like to go because you invited me, I was only joking about the food part.” 

They offered the brunette a soft smile. “ So, when is the dinner?” 

When Rouen clearly seemed to be speechless, Joshua stepped in for her again. “ The twenty-seventh! We’ll pay for your flight, Buddy-so don’t you worry about that!” 

Sens acknowledged Joshua with a joyful grin-a typical response to his silliness-but before they had to go, they gently squeezed Rouen’s arm and wished her and Joshua well. 

“ I swear-” Rouen mumbled as she turned to face Joshua, “-I’m gonna die, J. Please help me.”

“ Oh no-there will be none of that, not before you confess your feelings to Ngoma.” Joshua reminded his friend. “ Then you can pass out, and-you know-it’ll be one of those scenes from the movies. They’ll pick you up and their face will be really close to yours and-”

“ J!”

Tag list: @poisonedtruth @kryptonian-puppy

#r6 ocs #r6 reaper #r6 Ōkami #rouen blake #joshua sakurai #r6 fic #rainbow six siege fic #about the tag list #i kinda like it but if you dont wanna be tagged thats fine just let me know #also sorry its been so long since ive written #but for this i really had some motivation so #also there's an oc in here that i have not posted information about #i forgot about that but if you wanna know about him feel free to ask #also still working out the writing kinks with him #also how i end my fics im still weird about #but i tried #also writing sens #still definitely working on that

[outpost-31]

wow atlas posting ocs? that's rare

it's hot as balls outside and I'm dying so take some jojos ocs. part 5. ask me things about them, mutuals. I love them. please. please. (chanting)

this is a thick packed-full post so it's under the cut. no art though sorry I just need to write them down somewhere

Just a group of losers that's It. Not called on often, but they deal with situations regarding debts/negotiations in certain cities. Several also work as paid mercenaries or informants for missions regarding Passione's members and their personal grudges. it has nothing to do with the boss, its not an order (and possibly not allowed), they're just in it for cash and reputation.

I like making lists. this isnt even adequate writing about them theyre interesting i promise ihave so much stuff but im just trying to dump the basics as a collective so i dont forget

_______

Malvolio " Attore " Di Maggio

- 20, 6'1" (185 cm). Afro-Latino (Venezuelan)

- Agender (He/They) + Bi and Demiromantic

- Aloof, very blunt when he speaks. Honestly, kind of an asshole. Not even in an edgy bad boy way, hes just a cunt. He does it on purpose to drive people off, because he's horrible at getting close to people and doesn't want them hurt.

- His only role on his team is as a hired mercenary; he refuses to help with anything else due to personal goal, and the fact he joined the team for something " peaceful. " The only other people he'll go on assignments with are Breve and, reluctantly, Maledetta. He also refuses to accept the term ' assassin.'

- Smoker.

- Saddled with so much regret it could kill just about 5 grown men. In desperate need of counseling.

- exploding everybody who interacts with him in his mind constantly

- Tends to go off on his own. Absent from collective meetings often, takes lone jobs constantly, etc etc. He cares about everybody else, but he doesn't consider himself one of them and isolates on instinct (get therapy)

- Surprisingly great with kids. Breve is the only one he speaks more than a few sparse sentences to, and is actually kind with them. The mandated babysitter

- Ruthless in battle. Lacks any sympathy for just about anybody he faces off against, which enables his stand to be so horrifying without any guilt. He also carries eternal grudges. But, he's not an extremely violent person- in that aspect he's actually pretty average. More bark than bite apart from his vendetta.

- His stand, My Fairy King (after the Queen song), is.. Interesting, to say the least. much like Moody Blues, it's a manifestation of his crippling guilt. However, it's in a much more offensive way than the passive effect of that stand. Its power enables him to (metaphorically) enter your head and abuse your greatest fears, warping them into debilitating flashbacks and spectres that are near indistinguishable from reality. This makes fighting him quite difficult, though it is combatable. The drawback, however, is that using it can start to affect him too- triggering him into his own flashbacks if he isn't careful. Typically, with several opponents or overuse

Personality Muse: Yotsuyu Yagiyama, Oyecomova, Risotto Nero (jesus christ, man )

Playlist

_______

Raffaela " Felice " Gelli:

- 22, 5'10" (177 cm). White Italian.

- Cis Woman (She/Her) + Lesbian

- Deaf

- Very dependable and laid-back. Chill, fun, non-judgmental- etc. etc. She tries her Damnedest to not adhere to strict rules (tending to include the law itself) and promotes a very carefree attitude, making her excellent with most people. Even Attore. Her leadership skills are just awful, though, so she more tags along on assignments than accepts them on her own.

- That doesn't mean she isn't incredibly dangerous. She just masks it under layers of serenity.

- Works mostly as an informant, since the job is at her comfort level. She's beyond capable of other tasks, and has even tagged along with Ruscello on a few jobs, but its because of preference over ability. Plus, she's probably the most capable.

- The information she can dig up because of her childhood is unbelievable. She could doxx your entire extended family and your dog within the hour.

- Incapable of cooking. You know the Dubious Food from botw. yeah

- Has never sent a formal email in her life.

- Her stand, Rain Dogs (after the Tom Waits song) reflects her carefree ideology and urge to bring that freedom to others by being an essential support stand; with touch, it is able to manipulate near any chemical in the human body- though, at different levels, and depending entirely on emotional strength. She can't heal wounds, exactly, but her stand has a habit of clinging to shoulders during fights and pumping endorphins. It can also be incredibly dangerous, if used correctly, since an overload of anything can be deadly. The drawback is its fragility.

- (Not a unique concept, by any stretch, but one that reflects her well. Is it similar to even atleast 1 semi-canon stand? yes? thats intentional. )

Personality Muse: Gyro Zeppeli, Karera Sakunami, Guido Mista

Playlist

_______

Chisaka " Breve " Hiraoka

- 14, 4'8" (142 cm). Japanese-Indian

- Genderfluid (any pronouns) + Unlabeled

- The only natural-born stand user in the group, Breve manifested their stand before ever joining Passione. As such, they've had quite a bit of time to harness and refine its ability, despite being so young

- Selective mute and a pit of repressed emotions. This child is a ticking time bomb. They're very polite in interactions and resilient despite their situation, but due to their upbringing, tend to be incapable of letting themself show any sign of emotion without guilt. Their eyes and face are constantly devoid of emotion to a worrying degree.

- They work mostly as a debt collector and assassin alongside Attore, as he's the only person in the group they feel genuinely comfortable around. Like an older sibling, as they never had one.

- If you read their mind it would be this specific scream as loud as possible near constantly. Their face is calm but their mind is sobbing and punching holes in walls

- Very knowledgeable about illegal dealings, their workings, and the art of blackmail/manipulation due to being born in a family that was.. Well-versed in that knowledge.. If they hadn't been shipped off to Italy, they'd be considered an heir

- Their stand, Dear Prudence (after the Siouxsie and the Banshees version specifically), is honed and refined to a deadly perfection. While bound to their body, and meant for defense, they have manipulated it into something more dangerous with their creativity. They're able to cloak themselves with layers of invisible shields, radiating outward from their body much like a suit or bubble. They arent indestructible, but become stronger with environmental conditions such as heat- allowing them to tank atleast one harsh blow and retaliate. They repair themselves quite quickly, though not instantaneously- and, can be used to inflict extreme damage with physical blows. If one were to strike and shatter on your jaw, it wouldn't be pretty

- While this means that for function, their stand requires knowledge of hand-to-hand combat, that isnt any problem for them. Getting your shit rocked by a 14 year old would be humiliating, but it's about fate for anybody who crosses them. Not to say they're invincible, but they're.. Definitely a small target

Personality Muse: doesn't really have one. Kei Nijimura, outwardly, if anything.

Playlist

_______

Tederich " Pallottola " Altomare

- 30, 5'11" (180 cm). German-Mexican

- Trans Man (He/Him) + Gay and Asexual

- Literally just some guy

- Collects framed insects. He seems especially fond of moths and mantises.

- Very serious and maybe even a bit dull, but he's quite caring. He is incredibly strict with himself and takes his role very seriously- he's highly protective of those around him, with a surprising tolerance for extremely debilitating and stressful situations. His climb into this position wasn't exactly merciful, though. His eyes are too full of sorrow to look at for long

- Designated leader and mentor of the team. Like Maledetta, he is quite adaptable, and takes on any available role- usually as a guide for others present. He prefers to be an informant.

- His Stand, Bullet With Butterfly Wings (after the Smashing Pumpkins song) is an object that takes the form of a small, red-tinted glass vial. Small enough to comfortably hide in your palm. The dark liquid inside seems to regenerate infinitely on a timed cycle- this liquid can be applied onto anything via any method (ingesting, splashing..), and will immediately harden into a tough crystalline substance when it latches onto a person or object.

It has to be solid, however. in liquids it remains suspended.

In this instant, it is able to immediately affect the stability of anything; person, or object. Physical or even mental, and it's effect will last until it is scraped from your body or the affected area

- While this doesn't exactly seem special, it can turn battles in his favor, even if a bit dangerous. Crumbling buildings allowing for escape and cover, immediately unbalanced or distressed enemies giving him an edge in combat, etc.. It doesn't seem like much, but his potential for creativity is.. Unmatched. He's previously used it in ways comparable to a poison, hiding the substance in drinks and simply allowing those he wants gone to succumb to asphyxiation from the sudden cluster of crystals forming on the inside of their throat blocking their airway.

Personality Muse: Weather Report, (part 4) Jotaro Kujo, Bruno Bucciarati. Due to about one trait each, but it's not nothing. he's barely like them, actually.

Playlist

_______

Thorello " Ruscello " Abadie

- 20, 5'8" ( 172 cm).... French

- Cis Man (He/Him) + Bi

- So debilitatingly anxious and paranoid that he's constantly checking behind him and scanning his surroundings. Alone, in public, with friends..

- His upbringing was essentially in a horror movie " suspicious sheltered town with ominous spooky things going on. " Residual panic from that and the town's beliefs. He thinks they're hunting him. Whether or not they are is up for debate

- Nail-Biter

- Only wears tight clothing because it makes him feel.. safe. The compression is comforting for him

- Debt-Collector. His stand can be. Surprisingly good for torture?

- His stand, Sex & Candy (after the Marcy Playground song), is automatic, ranged, and highly protective. Like most automatic stands, it is fairly simple, but ruthless. If anything the user considers a threat enters within 10 meters, Sex & Candy will activate and automatically begin to home in on them- though, slowly. While it has no strength to speak of, forcing Ruscello to defend himself, once it touches you.. It's not exactly a problem. It turns any being it comes in contact with incorporeal, unable to interact with anything or anyone but the stand itself, and this effect remains for as long as you remain in range- and, if you remain within that range while incoporeal for too long, it will begin to permanently dematerialize your body: beginning with fingers and toes. However, this process is slow (but painful) and takes atleast 5 minutes of exposure to the 10- meter span. This makes fighting him require alot of creativity, or a long-ranged power of your own.

Personality Muse: Pannacotta Fugo, Rykiel. I don't know, man

Playlist

_______

Xaviera " Maledetta " Cavalli

- 23, 5'6" (167 cm). White Italian

- Cis Woman (She/Her) + Lesbian

- Used to be a serial robber (and more! alot more!)

- " Oh she's a little bit fucked up actually. "

- Crazed. Obsessed. The whole deal. She's awful at getting along with people, and simply joined the team for sanctuary from the consequences of her.. Horrible horrible actions

- The most diverse of the team when it comes down to jobs. She takes on nearly every role depending on what they need, and takes a strange joy in seeing the cash it brings in even if the task involves the harm of others (which, it usually does).

- Her stand, Everlong (after the Foo Fighters Song), is long-range and is another with a humanoid appearance. It's abilities vary, but all seem to revolve around inflicting harm- in increasingly worse ways. Its physical power isn't too impressive, but if it manages to land a hit, it can become devastating quickly. While this doesn't apply to wounds from its fists, if the stand manages to cut you with any of the sharp barbs on its body, the wound begins to slowly spread outward from the source. This keeps it from closing, and can be especially dangerous due to these barbs also inflicting an anticoagulant affect on the victim. With no blood clotting, and a quickly spreading wound.. Defeating her or exiting her range, or simply lasting the time before it wears off, causes the anticoagulant to wear off. The wounds stay

- Uncommonly, her stand is one with its own sentience; and, thankfully, it seems kinder than Maledetta herself- almost pitying those she fights. Stupidly, the 2 get into frequent arguments. It's clearly anoyed by her arrogance, but follows orders regardless

Personality Muse: Yukako Yamagishi, Gwess, Terunosuke Miyamoto (yikes. not because of teru though.)

Playlist

#WOW thats alot #mutuals please ask me about them im begging you. i have way more ocs but i think about this group the most. i need to talk about them #also for them i refused to go with the part 5 food names im sorry. they go by alias(s) though which is close enough #no art to go with this because i cant get their designs to look right rn. tripping and falling #jjba ocs #rambles #also here this is how I'm posting the playlists #I PROMISE THEYRE MORE INTERESTING AND IN DEPTH THAN THEY LOOK ITS JUST BASIC INFORMATION

[lazyleafeon]

[ID copied from Alt text: the first photo has the text, "sketch commissions for Gaza." Next to it is a drawing of the artist drawing on their art tablet.

second photo: 4 examples of commission prices and art, modeled by Kim Dokja from Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint in his demon king form. For one dollar: a rough chibi sketch. for 5 to ten dollars: a rough but more detailed sketch. there is more motion in his pose. for 10 to 15 dollars: a cleaner lined sketch with more detail given to the silhouette. for more than 15 dollars: a cleaner sketch with more attention to volume and detail in his outfit and wings. End ID]

For now up until March 10th I'm taking pay what you want sketch commissions for donations to Help Gaza Children, managed by @fairuzfan and Hussam, since from March 4th to the 10th all donations will go to families in Northern Gaza.

Their site is here where you can find more information, like their FAQ, and proof of purchases from donations they've received so far.

You can donate to Help Gaza Children's paypal here. The paypal link is also on their site.

guidelines:

To be upfront, I am a full time college student so expect a two month turnaround. I will give you an update around a month in and again at two months if I don't finish by then.

Please include a visual reference or detailed text description of the character(s) you want drawn, unless I've drawn them before and you're okay with me going with my design.

I can draw OCs, mechs, and furries.

I won't draw real people or anything nsfw.

I reserve the right to refuse a commission and may ask you to choose something else. If you want to know in advance if I'll take it, feel free to DM or send an ask.

Extra characters will be half the price as one character. Please only request up to three characters per category (ex: if you pay $35, you can get 3 characters: 1 for $15 and the other 2 for $10 each. if you pay $6 you can get 3 characters: 1 for $3 and 2 for $1.50 each)

don’t use these for commercial use. personal use (like as icons or headers, or like printing it for yourself) is okay

if you're paying in a currency other than dollars you can let me know and I'll try to adjust the pricing so you get a drawing equivalent to what you paid. I don't want people to pay the equivalent of $20 and get a rough sketch or something.

To get a commission, email me at desklamprey @ gmail.com with a screenshot of the receipt of your donation made after this post was made (3/5/24 at around 2 pm PST), and the details about your request. please censor any personal information in the receipt.

If you have any questions feel free to DM or send an ask!

#commissions

[ashwii]

Masterpost WEEEE ₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊

Hi :D I'm AshWii, and I make lots of fan art -w- I'll edit this masterpost depending on what I'm working on and/or I'm most interested in at the time. Mostly, I'm drawing TMNT content right now.

General Tags

All of my ROTTMNT works

All of my TMNT works

All of my VLD works

All of my Klance works

All of my OC works

General Artworks

All art I've ever posted (doodles, renders, and more)

Just my doodles and sketches

Just my finished and/or rendered artworks

Art tutorials and/or art advice

Personal favorites

Text Posts and Misc.

"Ash Rambles" (text posts)

"Ashask" (ask box posts)

"Ash Polls" (polls I've made)

Fanart people have made for me!

Personal Projects

Celestial Au artworks

TMNT:SN artworks

Night Time (ROTTMNT sona) artworks

If there is anything else you would like available on this tag list, let me know :D

More Info + Tags On My Personal Projects Under The Cut

Includes Celestial Au, TMNT:SN, and Night Time!

Celestial Au

All celestial au artworks

Celestial au info

Celestial au FAQ (masterpost)

My "rottmnt celestial au" is an au where the turtles are portrayed as different celestial bodies. Leo embodies the stars, Donnie embodies the moon, Raph embodies the sun, and Mikey embodies the comets. No real lore here, mostly just fun shenanigans!

TMNT Sona

"ash sona"

All Night art/posts

All "sona fam" posts

An introduction to Night

This is Night Time, my rottmnt sona! He was made in early 2023 when rottmnt sonas were everywhere XD He's heavily based off of my celestial au turtles — Star!Leo, in particular, felt to me like he was more or less already my rottmnt sona. However, it felt strange to make an "au Leo" my sona, so I tweaked him some. Night is the embodiment of night sky and all of the celestial bodies, not just the stars. He also has his own and unique personality, and his own way of thinking (as opposed to Star!Leo, who's just regular Leo with a star theme). Night is generally pretty quiet and collected. He has the vibes of an older, formal man. He enjoys his solitude and he is not a fan of talking to other people — he enjoys being alone with his night sky. However, when he's in the presence of others... he's a bit more of a prick and an asshole XD. He's very much and introvert and has a low tolerance for bs.

idiot son by @viverrz

But you know... he can be a softie to others at times -w-

other idiot son by @daedelweiss

TMNT: Splattered Neon

all tmnt:sn artworks

tmnt:sn information

Music and composition by @jokingmaiden

TMNT:SN is my own tmnt version :D I made my own designs for the boys and for the rest of the main cast, along with some other characters that are coming out soon :D If I'm being honest however, I still don't have a solid enough of a plot-line that can be put into a synopsis. I do however have a lot of bits and info about where I want everything to kinda go and what I want to do, and all of that information can be found in "tmnt:snINFO."

#masterpost #rottmnt #tmnt #ash rambles #rottmnt celestial au #night sona #tmnt:sn #ashart

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

(to the tune of Avril Lavigne's sk8terboi)

He was a human battering ram.

She was a recon sniper.

Can I make it any more obvious?

Headcannons - Fit for a King - König x fem!OC fanfic

Instead of making a y/n fic, I decided to create an original female character because I ususally write all of my stuff in POVs. Due to posting the chapters often right after I've written them some of the context and the characterization might not be explicit in every single piece, some of the information is only gonna get revealed down the road.

(TW: alcoholism, death, violence)

Karina Müller is almost 30 years old, she served in the Norwegian military from right after school until the death of her brother who was KIA on a mission together. She fell off the wagon after that, feeling responsible for his death and effectively being shunned by her family after that. Her pick of poison was alcohol and it got so bad that she more than once was drunk on the job which led to her getting kicked out.

The years after that she spent getting help, trying to get clean and going back to a civilian life, but the military was what she knew, so the civilian jobs didn't stick and she started to work as a mercenary, now a dry alcoholic. Which might be an issue for some contractors, but KorTac doesn't really bat an eye.

She's a compassionate person who loves to laugh, she's seen enough shit not to take any from her teammates and can stand her ground when faced with any challenge thrown her way. She's still working through some stuff, coming to terms with her past, but she has an optimistic spirit and a strong will.

Even though the Colonel seems scary at first, she learns pretty quickly that he is to be respected in training and on the battlefield, but on a personal level he's really not that bad. The 6'10'' killing machine, Austrian war criminal (insert "what murdeeer?!"-meme here) is quite an anxious person when it comes to basic human interaction.

Shouting orders at his team, stomping his enemies into the ground is more comfortable to him than just talking about mundane stuff with other people, he mostly keeps to himself (except for Horangi because that little shit would never leave him alone). And for the first time in a long time, Müller makes him wish that he could just go up to people and strike up a normal conversation like a normal person (don't we all).

König is 38 years old (we don't know his full name) and has the biggest metalhead dad vibes without actually having any children himself (his favourite band is Death, although he listens to a bunch of different ones, it's also their merch shirt Müller steals in "Are you wearing my t-shirt?").

When he started out in the military, he shaved his long metalhead hair off because that was the way to go back then, but he let it grow back when he was older and already Colonel. He has gauged ears and a plethora of tattoos all over his body because the soft pain of body modifications and working out until he almost passes out are his ways of dealing with his anxiety and stress. His body is a testament to that.

He has a huge scar on the right side of his face from when he got beaten to a pulp by his bullies at school, something he never let happen again after that (five on one was really unfair). His nose has been broken two times and sometimes his tattoos get destroyed by battle injuries, but he doesn't really care about that - or his looks in general. He's a soldier and not a model.

So the reason why he's always wearing the selfmade hood is not the scar. He prefers not to show his feelings to others, staying hidden underneath the mask for his own comfort, even if it makes him scarier also in situations where he doesn't want to be.

(CW: some nsfw headcannons ahead, talk about not wanting to have children) They're both switches, though König is leaning more on the Dom-side while Müller is a sub who likes to brat a little too much, just to see her man falter (for example when she calls him a good boy in random scene #1).

Müller is bisexual, something she discovered when serving in an all-women-taskforce of the Norwegian military (we don't really know about König's sexuality though). She decided a long time ago that she doesn't want to have children (she doesn't see herself leaving service again anytime soon and given her past, she doesn't see herself fit to become a mother), so she got her tubes tied. Which also comes in handy when a certain Colonel's favourite pasttime (well, actually second favourite) is leaving creampies inside her (no 'unexpected pregnancy' trope in this household).

König definitely eats pussy for his own pleasure, begging Müller to let him eat her out in "Sit" or losing a little friendly competition for a sexual favour in "But no funny business" (oh and he definitely steals her panties at any chance he gets). She's totally not opposed to servicing him as well, but the size of his dick makes this a whole endeavour (like seen in "Open wide, Prinzessin").

They match each other's energy pretty well, just going at it like rabbits at every chance they get, which sometimes proves to be difficult as they're sneaking around in secret.

Their arrangement is kind of a fuckbuddy/fwb-situation, they fuck hard and rough, without ever really kissing (the mask stays on), but after a while feelings start to get in the way... After all they do belong together <3

Read more at the Fit for a King - Masterlist or keep an eye out for the AO3 link - coming soon.

#könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #konig #konig cod #konig mw2 #könig x fmc #könig fanfiction #cod mw2 smut #könig smut #konig smut #cod smut #female oc

[windvexer]

Using tarot to read on magical events in your own practice: quick theory, new card meanings, and spread ideas

this post is OC based on my personal tarot practice; the examples given are hypothetical for the sake of this post.

Well-meaning guy: "If you think that event was a bad omen, why not read tarot to clarify?"

Person who learned tarot from popular online resources and introspection-focused art decks: "I drew the 6/Cups, so I guess my ward falling off the wall is about my inner child?"

Tarot meanings change and evolve over time. Historical meanings are often not the same, or even contrary to, modern meanings. (Consider, 6/Pentacles: the French present moment was misinterpreted to mean presents, gifts).

By acknowledging that many modern meanings available for tarot cards are modern interpretations for modern concerns, many of which have fuckall to do with witchcraft, we can also acknowledge that we can apply our own sets of meanings to tarot to achieve personal interpretations in pursuit of personal goals.

I call this concept symbol sets, and you can apply your own symbol sets to certain tarot readings in order to rapidly obtain information about magical events in your life.

Symbol sets can be swapped out for each reading. You can intend to operate on your "normal meanings" for a typical reading, and then intend to operate with "magical omen meanings" for another reading.

There are no such things as universal tarot card meanings; there are some traditional meanings, some historical meanings, and many modern meanings. Adjust what each card means to you to your heart's delight.

The more symbol sets I've developed and practiced with, the more versatile and accurate my tarot reading has become. Working with custom symbol sets might be the single biggest leap in my reading ability in 16 years of practice. At least, it feels that way!

Quick n' Dirty Symbol Set for Magical Omens, Appropriate for Everyday Use

1. Apply general portents to each suit which matches your magical practice.

Here is one set that could be suitable to troubleshooting potentially magic events:

Swords, or Air: Misfortune, betrayal, malefica, ill-intent, adversity, due to harmful (even if unintentional) spirit action, pointless or wasted effort. Sometimes, banishing, binding and hexes.

Wands, or Fire: A lot of power, excessive power, due to your own actions, uncontained energy, something you did was very much overdone. Sometimes, protection and empowerment.

Pentacles, or Earth: Mundane, physical and normal reasons, an everyday occurrence, mundane but natural growth and change. Sometimes, unlocking and unblocking.

Cups, or Water: Blessings, magic working as intended (even if unexpectedly), the normal course of magical events, magical growth and change. Sometimes, cleansing and purifying.

Major Arcana: Guiding spirits and gods; their behaviors, guidance, or messages.

A spirit worker might like to add an additional layer of complexity, which modifies the prior set:

Court Cards: The actions of another being, such as a practitioner, god, or spirit, whether they acted intentionally to bring about the event or not.

(Further breakdown, as an example: Swords courts are beings intentionally acting badly; Wands courts are the most important spirits of your path; Pentacles courts are mundane folk or spirits unrelated to your path; Water courts are other practitioners, or spirits related to your path without being in your "inner court.")

Interpret any card drawn within these principles. Here are a few random examples. Let's say, a money spell has failed to produce results, and we'd like to know why.

5/Cups [disappointment, failure]: This is the normal course of magical events; the spell wasn't cast well, and so nothing is happening.

9/Wands [determination, boundaries]: A lot of energy was raised, but incorrectly targeted or released; the energy is cooped up.

Judgment [judgment]: An important spirit in your path wants you to deal with what you have been avoiding, and will interfere with your magic until you face them.

Spread Ideas

"What's going on with that thing?" | 3 cards

Card 1: The source or cause

Card 2: The current state of affairs

Card 3: Suggested action

Example; the money jar doesn't work: Card 1, King/Swords: The source of failure was the person in the discord server who promised to curse you for not feeling the same way about Destiel as they did. Card 2, Page/Pentacles: The current state of affairs is that as a symptom of the curse, an unaware person or spirit is blocking the prosperity you seek. Card 3, Queen/Cups: Ask a benevolent spirit or helpful practitioner friend to assist you in unblocking the situation.

Determining responsibility | 2 cards

Card 1: Why this thing happened

Card 2: Why it didn't happen; one thing that wasn't the cause at all

Example; the ward fell off the wall: Card 1, 10/Pentacles: This happened because of random happenstance in the home; it was not a magical event. Card 2, Ace/Swords: This action was unrelated to malefica or bad spirits or things like that.

Foresight Before Acting | 4 cards

Card 1: The current state of affairs

Card 2: The outcome of your intended plan of action

Card 3: Recommended plan of action

Card 4: The outcome of the recommended plan

Example; the spirits did not seem to appear during a spirit petition spell: Card 1, 3/Wands: Sufficient energy was raised to attract the attention of spirits, but they may not have been properly called to action. Card 2, 6/Swords: Your plan to call the spirits back and re-cast the spell is a fruitless attempt at a transition into a new plan. Card 3, Empress: Communicate with your primary goddess or powerful spirit of the earth and obtain input and guidance. Card 4, Magician: This plan will result in obtaining important magical information about this type of summoning spell you are trying to achieve.

#tbl #tarot #witchcraft

[sillyspero]

The Ultimate Ateez Lore Slideshow!!

Notes For Best Experience:

-TAKE YOUR TIME!! This is not meant to be read in one sitting. It is long but the slides go by quickly so don’t rush

-Read in the order I have written everything. It is arranged very intentionally for the best understanding and you WILL get confused if you read out of order I promise

-Click on albums in upper left to get back to the table of contents (these also represent what album I’m sourcing the info on the slide from so they DO serve a purpose I swear)

-Use Ctrl+Shift+F to make it full screen <3

-This was made for locals so if it feels like obvious information, it is for them.

-This was also made mainly for my best friend who likes SKZ and the FNAF DCA fandom so if there is seemingly unrelated stuff like that in there, it is for her. 🙂

-All sources are noted at the end of the slides, please go and support!!

Dedication/Special Thanks:

To @cacaocheri - Thank you so much for sending me your OC lore slideshows and inspiring me to make this. Without those incredible slides you made and your enthusiasm for hearing my retelling of the Ateez lore, I never would have even conceived of this idea.

To @stargardenmaiden - Thank you for being so encouraging throughout the process of making this! You were so supportive even when I felt like I wasn’t qualified and it means so much to me that you care about this even a little bit. I am also infinitely grateful for your help when I had internal conflicts about the intensity of this hyperfixation. I can’t wait to show you this final product in person.

To @atiny-for-life - Without your masterlist, I would never have gotten into the lore at all. You don’t know me but your blog is the reason I ended up downloading tumblr (because it stopped me from reading your whole lore post). Even beyond that point, your detailing of the lore served as a great jumping-off point for me to work with as I formed my own ideas and pieced everything together. It was VITAL for this slideshow.

To @hongjoongsgoat @halavibe @dontstaytiny - In my short time here on tumblr so far, I have been so grateful to my first true mutuals. You guys have been so kind to me and really welcomed me into the fandom with open arms. Thanks for being great friends here on tumblr!

To @wooyoungisbaby - Thanks for your enthusiasm about the project and thank you to everyone on your discord server for their encouragement and support as well! It means a lot to me!

I learned so much through this project and it has been really cool to dig into a community in this capacity so I hope you guys love it!

#ateez #atiny #ateez lore #ateez fanwork #atiny ateez #ateez lore slideshow #ateez lore explained #ateez lore deep dive #deep dive #seonghwa #wooyoung #hongjoong #jongho #mingi #yunho #yeosang #san #ateez seonghwa #ateez wooyoung #ateez hongjoong #ateez jongho #ateez mingi #ateez yunho #ateez yeosang #ateez san #park seonghwa #kim hongjoong #choi jongho #song mingi #jeong yunho

[ffishstickks]

Hi! My upcoming game Reap and Sow is in dire need of BACKGROUND FILLER! WOO!

This is where you come in! I need peoples OC'S to put in the backgrounds of this college party!

For example this is a current background for the backyard. This is supposed to be a lively party- with people talking in the backyard. WHERE ARE THE PEOPLE?

I was hoping to get community input and submissions for this :D

If you're interested in submitting an OC, Please read below!

ALL ORIGINAL CHARACTERS MUST BE OVER THE AGE OF 18.

IF YOU ARE SUBMITTING AN OC YOU MUST BE OVER THE AGE OF 18.

I need a picture of the OC in attire you'd see at a college party in 1999. For example, futuristic technology will be drawn out, as well as any brands or indication of being from a time after.

Existing art is also allowed! Just if anything seems to modern I will be editing clothes etc!

Here's an example of a perfect tumblr post submission.

I need this information about your character:

Height? - Do they drink? - Party personality?

I do not care about art quality, or color etc. This game is completely black and white. I would like indication of skin tone if there isnt one available.

Human? As long as they present as human-ish, that's fine! They cannot look like a demon, or have horns, or anything like that. Beastkin will be allowed considered they could hide their tail or ears. Aiming for semi realism here!

Lastly, you need to tag your post with:

#reapandsow

That's all! Hope to see some submissions! :D

Your tumblr will be credited in the credits. If you have a different name you'd like to be credited by, please put it in your submission!

LOOSE DEADLINE IS OCTOBER 31st! (It's not enforced heavily because I might be adding little things here and there)

#reapandsow #mrfishess #loverstrophy #courtincowboys #murdersim #datingsim

[gatheredfates]

Poses. Hello! 💫

I'm doing something both extremely regular and very on point for me, but also new in the grand scheme of things. Normally this single-word drive would be done as a flash prompt and be for fics only. However, with Dawntrail coming up and me taking a break from my longer asks until well after the expansion's launch, I wanted to extend the life of my single word drive and allow people to engage in creative mediums beyond writing; aka, gpose, art, meta analysis — whatever makes you happy and engaged creatively with Final Fantasy XIV!

To that end, please consider this a single-word (anything) drive!

...Okay, but what is a single-word (anything) drive?

By liking/reblogging this post, you consent for me to go into your askbox to send a one-word prompt generated from this website, picked from a selection of five, as a prompt for you do something creative with your oc. I will then queue any and all completed works to my character question tag, which can be found here.

There is no word limit or time limit, no barrier for skill, and you are welcome to ask for another prompt if the original one doesn't vibe. This is all about giving you the opportunity to explore a concept or part of your character you might not have considered, or expand upon your artistic/technical ability.

As this is a longer drive than my flash ones, I will be advertising it accordingly, and will send multiple prompts for those who'd like them. If you have finished an ask and would like another, please reply to this post with an emoji of a sea creature. 🐋 You can do this as many times as you want until the end of the drive; it counts as an extra like/reblog!

Sea, when does the drive end? I'm glad you asked! It'll end when (Count)Down To Dawntrail starts or when I manually call it — whichever comes first. It'll be announced on this post, but feel free to join my community project discord over at SEAFLOOR where you'll see (ha) me announce it in real time.

That's all for now! I'll either update or reblog this post with more information as needed, so please check the notes of this post for any updates.

#｡･ﾟﾟ･ — sea's character questions #｡･ﾟﾟ･ — sea speaks #but also none of these are being sent until tomorrow #i'm gonna go cuddle my partner and snzz #i meant to pose this ages ago BUT #you can see this inspired the alaice edit DFJKGHSDFJ #okay GOODNIGHT!!!!!!!!!

[lewmagoo]

six summers | bob floyd

description: it's been six years. six years since you walked away from the man you loved. six years since the night that your own foolish actions led to the disappearance of sixteen-year-old melissa seresin. you’ve spent these last few years living with crippling guilt. and after everything that happened, the last thing you are expecting is an invite to return to the camp and reassume your role as counselor. but here you are, staring in disbelief at a letter asking you to do just that. providing you with the opportunity to make things right. will you be able to come to terms with the past and allow yourself to accept this second chance? or will you let your guilt consume you?

characters: bob floyd x reader, the dagger squad as their respective characters, pete mitchell, penny benjamin, a number of my own ocs

warnings: 18+ only, mentions of death, guilt, references to sex, mentions of anxiety

series status: ongoing

listen to the playlist here!

this story is inspired by @ryebecca and this fantastic moodboard she made ; i also drew some inspiration from riley sager's the last time i lied

*this is my own original work - i do not consent to having it reposted or redistributed in any way

July 30th, 1980

1:15 am

All you felt was terror. Icy cold, like someone had shoved their frigid fingers beneath your shirt, digits pressing harsh, angry bruises into the skin while they were at it. Your arms were wrapped around yourself as you stood in the damp morning air, your eyes flitting about nervously, your gut churning with nausea. 

“You do realize that your negligence in this situation is going to come with consequences, right? How could you be so stupid?!” Penny Mitchell’s voice had a sharp edge to it, despite her lowered tone. Her eyes were piercing. You couldn’t look at her.

“Don’t try to pin this all on her. I’m just as much to blame.” That was Bobby’s voice, coming from beside you, an air of protectiveness emanating from him as he stepped closer, standing in solidarity with you.

“Oh, trust me, I’m holding you responsible, too. But she’s the one who was supposed to be in charge of that cabin. If she would have been at her post, this wouldn’t have happened. But no! The two of you were off doing God knows what, while one of our campers wandered off into the night!” 

Penny got into your face, pointing her finger, her anger palpable, radiating off her in waves. “You had better pray that girl is still alive, because if she winds up dead, her blood is on your hands, counselor.”

May 18th, 1986

10:30 am

“Mail’s in!” The voice of your roommate carried through your apartment, pulling your attention from the rhythmic tapping of the antique typewriter you’d picked up from a yard sale. Without a second thought, you sprang from your chair, flinging open your bedroom door, bare feet quick against carpet as you hurried toward the kitchen, where Margie was just walking through the door with a stack of mail. 

“Any of it addressed to me?” You asked, a hopeful inflection in your voice. 

Margie nodded, tossing the envelopes onto the countertop. “Yeah, you’re popular, got two letters addressed to you.”

Eagerly, you shuffled through the stack before you located the letters she was talking about. One had no definitive markings, so you had no idea where it was from. But the other had a promising logo on the front– The Capital Gazette.

“The Gazette sent something back!” You exclaimed, flipping the envelope over, fingers trembling as you tore into the seal. 

Margie gasped, her attention immediately zeroing in on the letter you held. “What did they say?!” She exclaimed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

“Gimme a minute!” You shot back as you rushed to unfold the paper. Your eyes hurriedly scanned the contents, but within moments, your shoulders fell, the thrill of hope fading away to heavy disappointment. The words we regret to inform you were all you needed to read to know what the letter was about.

“I didn’t get the job,” came your glum statement.

“What?” Margie snatched the paper off the counter when you let it drop, reading it for herself. “Oh, come on! You’re the best damn writer I know, how could they turn you down?!”

You shook your head, fighting the tears of disappointment that had gathered on your lash line. “They don’t need me. They’ve got better writers.”

“That’s bullshit!” She huffed, shaking her head, knocking some of her unkempt curls loose from her haphazard ponytail. 

“Whatever,” you said, bitterly. “There are other newspapers I can apply to. Other magazines. People are hiring all over the place,” you said, hoping to instill hope in your own heart. But it did little to lift your spirits. 

Your roommate sighed softly, reaching out to squeeze your shoulder. “I’m sorry. Really.”

“Thanks, Mar. So am I.”

Her attention shifted to the other, unopened letter on the counter. “What’s that one say?”

With a clueless shrug, you reached for it. All it bore was your address in handwriting that was oddly familiar. Tentatively, you tore into the envelope, brows furrowed as you unfolded the paper and began to read.

And then, “holy shit.”

“What is it?” Margie demanded, curious. When you looked at her, she noticed the expression of worry etched into your brow. 

“Camp Mitchell,” you whispered. 

At that, the woman’s eyes went wide. “Oh my God.” And then, she waved her hand, motioning you on. “What does it say?”

“They…they want me to come back as a counselor.”

I hope this letter finds you well. I am reaching out to you because I wanted to extend a formal invitation to return to camp as a counselor this summer. I know that things ended on a sour note for all of us involved, but Pete and I desire to breathe new life into this camp. We want to give other campers the chance to experience the wonder and magic of summertime at Camp Mitchell. I understand if you would prefer not to return, but it would be an honor to have you back with us again. Think we can agree to let bygones be bygones? I sure do hope so. Please give me a call at the number below and let me know if you would like to return and reassume your role as a camp counselor. Arrival deadline for counselors is May 24th. Hope to see you soon!

Best wishes, 

Penny Mitchell

You stared at the words in absolute shock. They wanted you to come back? After everything that had happened? After your own foolishness had resulted in a girl going missing? You had to admit, it was a bold move on Penny’s part. 

The police had heavily investigated you when young Melissa Seresin went missing six years prior. Penny had even blamed you for the girl’s disappearance. It was hard to imagine her wanting you to come anywhere near her camp ever again.

“I need to sit down,” you muttered, tossing the letter back onto the counter and stepping toward the kitchen table, where you hurriedly pulled out one of the chairs and lowered yourself into the seat. Two life-altering events had just taken place in the span of five minutes. You needed to process all of it. 

As you tried to regain your wits, Margie scanned over the letter. Then, she sauntered over to you, letting out a sigh as she pulled out the chair across from you and flopped down into it, her legs parted, arms falling down to dangle over the sides. She blew a pesky curl away from her face. 

Sympathetic brown eyes landed upon you, and the girl before you smiled softly. Understandingly. “What are you gonna do?”

“I really don’t know,” you said. “Since the job with The Gazette fell through…I might have no choice but to take up the offer to go back to camp. At least I’d be making some kind of income during the summer while I try to figure things out.”

Margie raised a dark brow. “Listen, you do what you think is best for you. But…after everything that happened there, are you sure you’re ready to go back? It’s only been six years.” She was not coming from a place of judgment. She was coming from a place of genuine concern for her friend. 

You groaned softly, placing your head in your hands. “I dunno know what to do. Honestly, I’m not ready. But then again it might give me closure. And maybe that’s what Penny is thinking. If she wants to make things right with me after the way things ended…maybe I should go.”

The girl sighed. “Yeah, I guess closure might be something that comes outta this. I just don’t want you to have to go through all that shit again, though.”

Your mouth quirked into a grateful smile. “I know, Mar. I’ve gotta think about it, first. I’m not making any decisions yet.”

“Well, let me know what you decide. Whatever choice you make, I’ll support you.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

As Margie left you at the table to be alone with your thoughts, you considered the weight of the situation. It had all happened so fast, and you felt as if you were caught up in a whirlwind. You only had a week to make a decision, because you had to be at camp on the 24th if you decided to go. 

Were you ready to go back, after only six short years? The thought made your stomach turn. Camp Mitchell was a place that held a lot of trauma for you. Your life had fallen apart there. 

You had been a first-year counselor in the summer of 1980. A job meant to get you through the summer, before you returned to college in the fall. You remembered being so hopeful and excited about what the summer held. 

Camp Mitchell was a camp situated in Michigan’s wilderness. Secluded, surrounded by forests as far as the eye could see. Quaint little wooden cabins. A mess hall. A volleyball pit. A lake. All the other amenities that a typical summer camp would have. 

You were put in charge of the junior/senior girls' cabin. Eleventh and twelfth graders. You were slightly intimidated because you were only a few years older than they were. You worried that they would not respect you. But much to your relief, the girls accepted you with open arms. 

Throughout the many weeks of camp, you bonded with several different girls who passed through your cabin. But none of them connected as well with you as Melissa Seresin. 

July 1980

She was the younger sister of one of the other counselors, Jake Seresin, and she was sweet as could be. She attended camp most of the summer, because her brother worked there, and she didn’t want to remain stuck at home alone while her parents traveled for the summer. 

So, she tagged along with Jake. Unlike her brother, she was not cocky. She had a very kindhearted demeanor. A little spoiled, once in a while, due to being the youngest and only girl of rich parents and a doting older brother, but nothing you couldn’t tolerate. 

Melissa remained a semi-permanent fixture in your cabin, even as groups of girls from different places — schools, church youth groups, family groups, so on and so forth — passed through all summer. 

She knew the camp like the back of her hand, and had spent a few summers there already. You didn’t have to worry about her like you might other campers, because she was well aware of the camp’s procedures. 

That was why it was so jarring when, one night in the middle of the summer, she disappeared without a trace. 

Late one night, after lights out, the girls in your cabin noticed her absence. Melissa was always in bed come lights out. Not always asleep, but certainly always present. Her neatly made, unoccupied bed raised suspicions, but it was her missing backpack that made the girls think that she had left altogether.

You were not at your post like you were supposed to be. Earlier that night, you had enforced lights out, but soon after had slipped out into the night to meet someone. The girls ranged from fifteen to eighteen years old, so you were not particularly concerned about them getting up to mischief. But in your haste to leave, you neglected to double-check that Melissa was present. 

To your utter shame, you had left to meet up with another counselor. The head counselor of the seventh and eighth-grade boys' cabin, Robert Floyd. Bob to his friends. Mr. Bob to the campers. Bobby to you, and only you. 

It wasn’t in your nature to sneak around. Neither was it in Bob’s. But you had gotten tangled up in an impassioned summer fling, and you took advantage of every free moment you had to be together. 

It was in that time span of you and Bob sneaking off to the lake, that Melissa had gone missing. And when you returned to the cabin an hour later, the girls were all awake, in a slight state of upheaval. 

“Where have you been?!” Asked Claudia, one of the senior girls. “I was about to leave and go find Mrs. Mitchell!”

“I needed some air. Why, what’s up?” You cautiously asked. 

Claudia motioned to Melissa’s empty bed. “Melissa never made it in for lights out.”

You stared at the bed, its covers untouched and meticulously tucked in, as a hotel bed would be. That was the way she made it every morning. She hadn’t been in that bed since last night. “No, she was here when I left!” You insisted. 

“Um, no she wasn’t,” Marissa, another senior, piped up. “Plus, her backpack is gone.”

“Oh, God. Well, that’s my bad for sure. Okay, um, I’m sure she can’t have gotten far. She knows this camp well. Don’t worry, I’ll go take a look around. The rest of you, stay put. Lemme just do a count to make sure nobody else went off with her.”

After a headcount, you came up with fourteen girls. Melissa would make fifteen, so she was the only one missing. Huffing out a sigh, and attempting to keep yourself calm and neutral so the girls wouldn’t panic, you squared your shoulders.

“I’ll go grab another counselor and we’ll take a look. Claudia, you’re the oldest, so you’re in charge. Make sure no one leaves. The rest of you, try to get some sleep. I know you’re a little freaked right now but it’s gonna be okay.” The biggest lie you could have told them. It was, in fact, not going to be okay.

“What should we do if she comes back?” Claudia asked, running a nervous hand through her thick brunette locks. Her dark eyes were fearful, although she was trying to appear brave, just as you were trying to do. 

“Just make sure she stays put. I’ll come back and check in a bit, if I don’t find her, and we can touch base then.”

Once you were certain the girls understood the plan, you excused yourself again, stepping out into the humid July night. Crickets sang as you ambled down the path that led to the boys’ cabins, but the pounding of your heart in your ears drowned out the sound. 

Your hands shook, unsteady as you held your flashlight before you. Tears blurred your vision, and the heat of embarrassment washed over you. How could you be so stupid? Here you were, off getting laid while one of your girls was nowhere to be found.

You had to look for her, but you weren’t going to do it alone. Hurriedly, you ascended the steps of cabin 13, the first of the boys’ cabins. Light on your feet, so as not to step on any squeaky boards, you crept closer to the door. 

Three soft raps, five seconds apart. That was your code. And sure enough, within moments, the door inched open, and there was your Bobby. You had just seen him twenty minutes prior, but he’d already changed into his sleep clothes. An old camp shirt and basketball shorts. 

Brow furrowed, he quietly closed the door behind him, stepping out onto the porch. You reached for his hand and guided him off the porch, onto the soft, sandy ground. “What’s goin’ on, Kit?” He asked. The nickname he’d dubbed you for reasons so much more lighthearted than the situation you were facing.

“Melissa’s gone,” you whispered. “The girls said she was never there for lights out.”

“Huh? But you checked on them before you left.”

“I did, but I…I guess I just missed Melissa. I thought she was there, but tonight was so chaotic…God, I can’t believe I could be so stupid” You despaired.

“Shh,” Bob soothed, reaching out to run comforting hands down your arms. “Hey, she probably just went for a walk. I’m not close to her, but I know she likes to go and write in that journal of hers a lot. She’s probably doing that.”

“But that’s not like her. Yeah, she writes in her diary but she’s never done this before. Just…up and left like that. I’m scared, Bobby. I think something might’ve happened to her. And it’s all my fault.”

But he was already shaking his head. “No, don’t even let your mind go there. You’ll drive yourself crazy.” His hands had moved to cup your cheeks. “Tell you what, I’ll help you look for her. If we don’t find her in the next hour, we can tell Penny and get a search party goin’.”

You prayed it wouldn’t come to that, but the sick feeling in your gut told you otherwise. It was your fault, no matter how much Bobby tried to assure you it wasn’t. If Melissa was truly missing, then you were the one to blame. But you didn’t dare speak it into the air. You couldn’t.

“O-okay. We can look together, then.”

And so, the two of you set off on the search for Melissa Seresin. Missy, as her brother liked to call her. You thought of Jake, who was in charge of the senior boys’ cabin. You knew he’d be pissed that you didn’t wake him up immediately and tell him what was going on. He was very protective of his baby sister. But you didn’t want to involve him just yet. You had to try to find her yourself, first. 

You set out to search all the places she frequented. Melissa wasn’t as outgoing as her brother. She had a vibrant personality, but also had introverted tendencies. She cherished her alone time, so it wasn’t odd for her to be at the lake, or the horse stables, writing. But she was always visible, and she had never sneaked off before. And certainly not after dark, either. 

These woods were terrifying at night. It was easy to get lost in their vastness. Even a girl who knew her way around could get lost. But you prayed that wasn’t the case. 

You took to searching her usual hangout spots. The lake, even though you and Bob had been there a half hour ago, and hadn’t seen her. Sure enough, she wasn’t there. Then, you took a peek in the horse stables. The camp had not yet obtained horses to occupy the stables, so it was just an empty building.

Hopeful, you followed Bob inside, holding your breath as he called out, “Melissa? You in here, honey? It’s Bob Floyd.”

But you were met with dead silence, so deafening it brought a shiver down your spine. “Oh, my God. She’s gone. She’s gone forever. This is all my fault!” You panicked, burying your face in your hands. 

Bobby, ever the calm and steady one, gently soothed you. “Hey. Hey! Look at me.”

You lifted your tearful eyes to his face, illuminated by the yellow glow of your flashlight. 

“It’s gon’ be okay, alright? We’ll find her. We just need to go get Penny and Pete and tell ‘em what happened. We can get a search party organized. We’ll cover more ground that way.”

Lovingly, he took your hand, and together, you made the trek back toward the main part of camp, where the office, mess hall, and staff quarters were. The entire walk, your mind was spiraling with all the possibilities of what could have happened to Melissa. 

Something was wrong. You knew it. 

And, as it would turn out, you were, unfortunately, right. Melissa Seresin never was found. Not when you and the other counselors organized a search party. Not when the police got involved. Not when Jake and Melissa’s dad, an agent in the FBI, got his team involved. It was as if she’d vanished into thin air. Gone without a trace.

Jake blamed you. But that was okay, because you blamed yourself, too. 

Your own negligence was the reason Melissa was gone. And the police grilled you for it. Much to your utter relief, the Seresins chose not to press charges. But you were left to live with the guilt, and that was punishment enough.

And now, here you were. Six years later. Wounds from the past only partially healed. Presented with an opportunity to go back to the place where it all started, and ended. If you did return, would those wounds reopen, and drain the blood from your veins? Or would those wounds finally heal?

And most importantly, did you have the guts to find out?

One Week Later

A ticket reading Harper, Michigan was clutched tightly in your hand, the paper rumpling from your grip. Your suitcase and duffel bag were beside you, as you stood at the bus depot, waiting for the Greyhound to pull up and take you to your destination.

“I still think you’re crazy for this,” Margie spoke from beside you. She’d come to see you off. 

You turned to her, taking in her soft smile, despite her disapproval of your choice. “I know,” you replied. 

“But I also understand why you want to do this. I really hope it gives you the closure you’re looking for.”

You threw your arms around your friend’s shoulders, hugging her tight. “Thanks, Mar. I’ll try to give you a call at some point in the next few weeks, but the only phone on the property is the one in the main office and I doubt I’ll have time.”

“Don’t worry about it. You can tell me all about it when you get back,” she assured you. 

You took one last good look at her, as you knew you wouldn’t see her for a few months, if you fulfilled your commitment to work the entire camp season. The late morning sun shone down from the sky, illuminating her dark curls. Always so unkempt, but the style suited her. 

“I’ll be seeing ya,” you finally said.

She nodded, squeezing your hand. “Take care of yourself. And good luck.”

The bus pulled into the stop as you bid your final goodbyes, and then, you handed off your luggage to the attendant to pack away beneath the bus before you climbed the steps into the large vehicle, flashing your ticket to the driver. You took a seat toward the back, settling in and placing your purse beside you, hoping that you would get two of the tackily upholstered seats all to yourself. 

As soon as you were settled, you fished your Walkman out of your bag, unraveling the headphones and placing them on your head. As soon as you hit play, the opening sound of the 1975 Eagles album, One of These Nights, filled your ears.

You had purposely chosen this tape to accompany you on your trip, because it held a lot of nostalgic memories for you. Namely, it had been a gift from your Bobby. He’d given it to you in the beginning stages of your romance, after you’d expressed to him that the album was one of your favorites.

“I want you to have it,” he insisted. “A memento that you can have all the time, to remind you of what a great time we had together here.”

And you did have a great time. But the trauma of Melissa’s disappearance had soured the whole thing. All you had left of Bobby was this tape, and a few braided jute bracelets he had made you, from plant fibers. You still wore them on your wrist to this day. 

He had tried to keep in contact with you after the camp shut down. He’d sent letters. Called your home phone. But you never answered. As much as you loved him, the reminder of what had happened was too painful, and you let your connection to him fizzle out. 

But as you listened to the familiar cords, a rush of memories flooded you, the wave so intense that it took your breath away. Flashes of Bob’s beautiful face. Twinkling eyes, blushing cheeks, a crinkled button nose. The prettiest laughter you’d ever heard.

Large, warm hands exploring. Lips trailing searing kisses down your sternum. Whispers of your name. Groans of pl–

With a gasp, you snatched the headphones off your head, eyes flickering about, as if someone around you could have heard your thoughts. But everyone else was in their own little world, completely oblivious to the salacious flashbacks you had just experienced.

But they made you warm with shame nonetheless. 

You’d be foolish not to admit that you’d thought of Bobby over the years. Looked back on your encounters with fondness. With desire. You’d been sexually involved with a few other people since then, but the entire time, you could only think of him. It was why you’d stopped seeing other people. They weren’t your Bobby. 

You wondered if he thought about you, too.

More importantly, you wondered if he’d be returning to Camp Mitchell like you were. Were you ready to face him again? The thought made your stomach flutter with butterflies. 

You imagined he’d moved on. He had to. Hell, he probably had a wife and kids already. Imagining such a thing sent a queasy rush through you. You still weren’t over him, and you supposed you never would be. He was your first great love. 

But he wasn’t the only person you would potentially face from your past. 

Your mind went to the other counselors you’d worked with that fateful summer. Specifically, you thought of Jake Seresin. Surely he wouldn’t return to camp, right? Not after his baby sister had disappeared from that very place. It had to be too painful for him. 

Little did you know, everyone you had worked with was also traveling from their own respective homes and cities, headed right for Camp Mitchell, just like you were. 

The camp was founded by Pete and Penny Mitchell, a husband and wife duo. They had started it with the best of intentions. It was in its fifth successful year when you came on staff. And that just so happened to be the last year it was in operation. 

Until now. 

What had made the couple decide it was a good idea to reopen the camp, you had no idea. But you were going to give it a chance. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, after all. 

But several hours later, as the Greyhound pulled into the station in Harper, a tiny town boasting of a general store, a bus depot, and a long, winding road that led up to the camp itself. 

As you stepped off the bus, you realized one very important detail: you had no idea how you were even getting up to the camp. Would they send a driver down to retrieve everyone? 

Your question was soon answered when you caught sight of a large white poster board propped against a nearby lamppost. CAMP MITCHELL STAFF WAIT HERE. A DRIVER WILL ESCORT YOU TO CAMP. 

With a sigh, you rolled your suitcase over to the post, hoping you wouldn’t have to wait long. And you didn’t. About five minutes later, an old teal-colored truck came down the road, its engine obnoxiously loud. On the side, Camp Mitchell was printed in bold letters. 

You straightened, smoothing out your travel-rumpled clothes as you grabbed your belongings, prepared to help load everything into the truck. It didn’t even occur to you that you might know the driver. You expected to meet someone entirely new. 

As soon as the vehicle pulled to a stop at the curb, you were already moving to the truck bed, hoisting your duffel bag over the side, letting it land with a satisfying thump. 

“Here, let me,” a familiar voice spoke up, and in moments, a pair of hands were stealing your suitcase away, heaving it into the bed. 

You looked up at the man assisting you, and your blood ran cold. As he turned from putting your luggage in place, he froze, too. Wide blue eyes, no longer hidden beneath a pair of wireframes, locked with your own. 

You didn’t speak. You couldn’t. 

But he did. In a voice as smooth and soft as butter, yet breathless with surprise. “Kit?” 

You squeezed your eyes shut. 

Kit. The nickname he’d dubbed you six years ago. It was something so simple. So silly. You’d had an affinity for KitKat bars that summer. They were the only candy bars you liked from the camp store. As a joke, Bobby had said “I should call you KitKat, since you like those things so much.”

And thus, it was shortened to Kit. The name stuck. 

Hearing it again made your head spin. You felt woozy on your feet. You swayed a little. A memory flashed in your mind. You and him. Sitting under the old weeping willow. His fingertips wiping chocolate from the corner of your mouth. 

It sent a burning ache through your chest. 

“Oh my God,” you whispered. “B-Bobby.” The first words you’d spoken to him in six years. 

He let out a breath, shaking his head in disbelief. “I didn’t think you’d show.” 

You gathered yourself, trying to regain your composure. “I didn’t either,” you whispered. 

He offered a tentative smile. “That doesn’t mean I’m not happy to see you, though.”

You lifted your head, brow furrowed in confusion. “You are?”

“Gosh, I am. It’s been too long. I didn’t…didn’t know what happened to you. You never responded to my calls or letters. I thought maybe…” He wouldn’t speak it out loud. He couldn’t. 

But you inferred what he meant from his tone. He’d feared that the trauma of what had happened had been too much for you to handle. That you’d succumbed to it all. 

“I was working on myself. Trying to heal.”

He nodded. “Understandable.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled again. “I really am glad to see you, though. You look well.”

You shrugged. “I’m workin’ on it. And I’m glad to see you too.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and you realized how much he’d changed, but also stayed the same. He’d filled out. His shoulders were more broad. Muscular. His glasses were gone, presumably replaced with contacts. His hair, once close-cropped, was longer now, curling at the nape of his neck, peeking out from beneath the baseball cap he wore. His jaw was shadowed with stubble. 

He looked like a man. 

But there was still that boyish glint in his eyes, and hiding behind his smile. Still that same gentleness reserved particularly for you. It was overwhelming, and you could feel your chest beginning to tighten. 

“Are you, uh, are you ready to head up there? Or do ya need a minute?” Bobby asked, his voice low. Laced with concern. 

You stepped back. “I thought I could do this. Maybe I can’t.”

He let you have your space. “Take all the time you need.”

The rush of memories flooding you was overwhelming. The last time you saw him. The last thing you said to him. 

Six Years Ago

The day you left camp, it was raining. Pouring from the sky in sheets, washing everything in a gray hue that made the world look like a watercolor painting. 

The sandy ground squashed beneath your feet as you walked toward that old truck, with the camp’s logo on the side. Your luggage was stuffed into the truck bed, wrapped in plastic garbage bags so it wouldn’t get wet in the downpour. 

As you climbed into the cab, Bobby came running out of the main office, making a beeline for the truck. He scrambled to wrench open the door and join you inside, breathing labored as he settled into the seat. 

For a few moments, it was silent, save for the sound of him moving to start the engine. He fiddled with the heat dial, hoping to reduce the fog on the windows, as the rain had made the air unseasonably chilly that morning. 

You both sat there, staring out the windshield, watching the water trickle down the glass. He made no move to put the truck in gear. 

“I’m sorry,” he murmured. 

“Bobby—”

“No, listen to me. I’m sorry it came to this. It shouldn’t have.”

“What’s done is done. Please, let’s just get out of here. I can’t stay in this place another minute.”

Bobby lingered for a moment, his eyes on you, even as you refused to look at him. You were afraid that if you did, you’d melt into a fit of tears. So, with a soft sigh, he put the truck in drive, and began the journey down the winding dirt road that led out of camp. 

The trip was silent. You had nothing left to say, because you’d exhausted all your words these last few weeks. Countless hours of interrogation. Recounting that night over and over again. The conclusion was that a girl was missing, and it likely would not have happened if you’d been doing your job. That was a sense of guilt that you would have to live with for the rest of your life.

Bob pulled into the bus station fifteen minutes later, and you didn’t hesitate as you hurried to slide out of your seat, shoes colliding with wet asphalt. Your chest was tight, eyes blurring with tears as you rushed to grab your luggage. 

“Would ya stop for a minute?!” Bobby exclaimed, reaching out to gently grab at your arm. 

But you jerked away from him. “Please, don’t…don’t make this harder than it is,” you whispered.

He stared at you, brilliant blue eyes wide, filled with emotion. “So, what, you won’t even say goodbye?”

You feared that saying goodbye would break the dam, and you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself together. You’d fall into his arms, sobbing your heart out, and you would never get on that bus. The man before you sighed, shaking his head before he moved to haul your suitcase out of the truck, placing the plastic-covered bag on the sidewalk. 

“That’s it then?” He spoke, his tone grim.

Squaring your shoulders, you nodded, forcing yourself to hold it together. “Goodbye, Robert.”

You turned to leave, and he watched you go, his heart falling to pieces within him. He was losing you, perhaps forever, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He wanted to go after you. Wanted to shake you and tell you to just listen. But you were so entrenched in the trauma of what had happened that he wasn’t sure you could listen to reason at all.

So he let you leave. He watched you climb onto that Greyhound, bound for home, all while he was left there with a wound in his heart, wishing that things could have ended differently. Wishing that your love for each other had been enough to keep you with him.

But it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough. And that was something he had to live with.

May 1986

Seeing you again was a lot for him. You were just as beautiful as he remembered. Even more so, now, if that was possible. He was also hit with a rush of emotions. He never thought he’d see you again. When he’d received the letter from Penny, inviting him back to camp, he had thought about you, and was sure you wouldn’t come back.

But here you were, standing before him, uncertain and anxious, and he found himself wanting nothing more than to pull you into his arms and comfort you. But he kept his distance, not wanting to invade your personal space. You weren’t his any longer. He could not touch you the way he used to. 

You took a moment to pull yourself together, taking a deep breath, counting to ten, trying to ground yourself. Then, you fixed your posture, and nodded in Bob’s direction. “Alright. I think…I think I’m okay. We can, um, we can leave if you’re ready.”

“Okay. Let’s go then.” He opened the passenger door for you, and you climbed into that old truck once again, just as you had six years ago. 

Everything had come full circle.

Bobby rounded the truck and settled into the driver’s seat, and soon, he’d started the engine, pulling away from the curb, turning onto the road that led up to camp. Your gut churned with anxiety. You were really doing this. There was no turning back now. 

The radio played softly as Bob drove. Some old country song. Hank Williams, you thought. Its grainy, peaceful tune did well to calm your anxiety. Your hands had stopped trembling.

“It’s been a while,” the man beside you murmured. His accent seemed to have gotten thicker, a slight twang to it. 

“I know,” you replied, staring down at your lap. Then, “God, I’m so sorry, Bobby. I shouldn’t have gone no contact like I did. I got the letters you sent. And I got every message you left on my answering machine. But I just…I couldn’t bring myself to respond.”

He shook his head. “No, I get it. I should’ve given you more space. I know everything that happened was a lot for you.”

“But that’s no excuse for me to just ignore you. It wasn’t right of me. I’m really sorry.”

“Apology accepted. It’s in the past, Kit. We can leave it there.”

It was that easy. A soothing sense of relief washed over you, warming you from head to toe. That exchange made you feel a little more at ease, and the conversation soon shifted.

“Did everyone come back this year?”

He nodded, humming lowly. “Most of ‘em, surprisingly. Bradley, Natasha, Mickey, Reuben, Javy. Half got here last night. The rest came earlier this mornin’.”

You hesitated, picking at a jagged nail on your right hand. “And…Jake?”

Bob was silent for a moment, his jaw tightening. “Yeah, him too.”

You recoiled in confusion. “But…why would he come back?”

“Penny didn’t say it in her letter, but they’re doing a dedication ceremony for Melissa. There’s a new garden area they installed in the main part of camp. It’s gonna be called Melissa Jo’s Garden. They had a plaque made and everything. Jake agreed to come for the ceremony. I dunno if he’s staying all summer though.”

“Oh.” It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from your lungs. You had not left things on a good note with Jake. He harbored deep resentment toward you for neglecting to watch over your cabin. He blamed you for his sister’s disappearance. 

“He seems to be handling everything alright. He might actually be okay with seeing you again.”

But you weren’t so sure. There was that nervousness again, roiling in your gut. Did you have the nerve to face him? And how would he react? You doubted he’d welcome you back with open arms. 

You’d soon find out, because just up ahead, the Camp Mitchell sign could be seen. Large, deep green in color, with white lettering. So familiar, yet so foreign all at once. 

You couldn’t believe you were back. What if this turned out to be the most foolish decision you’d ever made?

You didn’t have time to consider that, because Bobby was pulling into the common area in no time, and killing the engine. It was time to face the past you’d been running like hell to get away from. 

As Bob got out to gather your luggage, you pushed the old, squeaky passenger door open and let your feet land in the soft sand. 

The scent of pine and honeysuckle filled your nose. It sent an intense wave of nostalgia through you. So much had changed, and yet nothing had, all at the same time. 

The layout was still the same. Clinic. Main office. Mess hall. Common area. But in the middle of the main entrance was a small garden. Stone paths weaved throughout. Spindly bushes, multicolored flowers, and other plants decorated the soil. Right in the middle of the garden was what appeared to be a large stone, covered with a tarp. You assumed the plaque for Melissa was hidden beneath the tarp. 

And then, a voice caught your attention. You looked up to find Penny Mitchell approaching you. Blue cotton shorts, accessorized with a belt. A blue and white striped t-shirt tucked into them. A pair of hiking boots were on her feet. Practical, that one was. Always ready for an outdoor excursion at a moment’s notice.

You braced yourself, unsure of how she would behave toward you. She had rightfully held you responsible for Melissa’s disappearance, and you weren’t sure if she’d moved on from that. But, if she’d invited you back, she had to have at least found it in her heart to forgive you. You hoped so, anyway. 

“Welcome!” She said, sweeping her arms out in greeting. “I’m glad you could make it!”

“Oh, um, thanks. Me…me too,” you said, unsure of the proper response. 

Bobby sidled up beside you. You didn’t feel so alone with him there.

“Did Bob fill you in on everything on the drive up?”

“Kinda, yeah,” came your answer.

Penny nodded. “Once everyone is settled, Pete and I will take you on a tour. We’ve made a lot of changes these last few months.” Then she looked at Bob. “Would you show her to her cabin? We’ll put her in cabin five.”

“Sure thing,” he replied.

“We’ll have a little orientation meeting after dinner. There’s a whole itinerary we have to go over. I put a schedule in your cabin. Any questions?”

Yeah, lots. You stared at her for a moment. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you invite me back? After everything that happened?”

She regarded you silently, her expression neutral. Then, she said, “Because I believe in second chances. Or, rather, my husband does. He wanted to bring all of you back and start with a clean slate. Whether or not you’ve earned that second chance remains to be seen. But I hope you have.” Her words sent a painful ache through your chest. You didn’t blame her for being wary of you, but it still hurt. 

As she excused herself, you were once again left alone with Bobby. “Y’alright?” He gently asked, cadence low and comforting.

You processed his words for a moment. “Yeah…yeah. I’m okay.”

“You need a minute?”

“No. Let’s just get my stuff to my cabin.”

With a single nod, he grabbed your suitcase and duffel bag, moving to walk up the hill. You followed closely behind, letting the rush of memories ebb through you. The cabins were small, build from dark wood, with green paint detailing the shutters and doors. They looked like they’d received fresh coats of paint, but otherwise, everything was still the same.

It didn’t take long to reach cabin five. Bob carried your things inside, and you slowly followed, your heart quickening as you stepped through the door. The scent of cedar and pine was familiar and painful all at once. 

This wasn’t the cabin you’d been in when you were here last. You were in cabin two then, just one over from this one. Even so, it looked so eerily similar that for a moment, you were transported back to the summer of 1980.

Funnily enough, Bob had been the one to show you to your cabin for the first time that year, too.

“You’ve still got ‘em.”

Your eyes flickered to him, and your brow furrowed. “Huh?”

“The bracelets I made you.”

Oh. You looked down, eyeing your wrist, where the two braided jute bracelets remained, from when he’d made them for you that year. Dyed faintly with berry juice. Fraying at the edges, but still intact. “Um, yeah…I do. Guess I just could never bring myself to take them off.”

He stepped forward, reaching his hand out. You let him gingerly take your wrist into his palm. His fingers brushed against the braided rope, and his touch sent goosebumps across your skin. “After all these years,” he whispered, afraid that if he spoke any louder, his voice would fail him.

All at once, you were floored with an intense wave of emotion, so powerful it nearly drove you to your knees. It hit you out of nowhere, like a gut punch. “Bobby,” you whimpered.

Shocking blue flickered to meet your wide-eyed gaze, and his face crumpled, bottom lip quivering. “Kit.”

You weren’t sure who moved first, but you were in each other’s arms then, holding on tightly, as if the other would float away if you loosened your grip. The sound of soft sobs reached your ears, and you realized that they were coming from you.

“I never should have walked away from you. Never, ever!” You cried against his chest. “I’m sorry!”

“No, shhh,” he soothed, cradling your head against him. “Don’t do this to yourself. It’s okay, you’re forgiven.”

You pulled back to look at him, shaking your head. “It’s not okay!”

Two large hands came up to hold your face. “It hurt me, alright? I’ll admit that. Broke my heart in two. But I never held it against you, because…because I knew everything you’d been through. I know that summer was the worst time of your life. It made sense to me if you didn’t want to speak to me ever again. I would’ve just been a reminder of everything that happened.”

“But I did want to talk to you, Bobby. I did. I just couldn’t get past the goddamn trauma.”

He shook his head, his face kind. “I know. But we’re here now, together. That’s gotta count for something.” Maybe we’ve been given a second chance, he wanted to say, but he didn’t want to move too fast. He was well aware that your romance might never be rekindled. However, he was content to just remain friends with you if it meant that you would be in his life again.

You went quiet, letting your head fall against his chest again. You couldn’t believe you were here, standing in the middle of a cabin at the place where you had lost everything. It felt so surreal. It was as if a million years had passed since you saw him here last, and yet, it also felt like no time had passed at all. 

There was so much that needed to be discussed. But there was no hurry. For now, you were just relieved to know that you had not burned a bridge with your first great love. If nothing else went right for you this summer, he was the one good thing that would come out of it. 

“I’m glad…I’m glad it was you who picked me up at the station,” you admitted.

Bobby smiled softly. “So am I.” He searched your face, as if memorizing it. “I really thought I wouldn’t ever see you again.”

You hummed in agreement. “Me too. But I guess fate wanted us to meet again.”

“She’s a tricky one, that Fate.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Finally, he parted from you, though the absence of his body made yours feel cold. He didn’t want to overstep. “Well…I guess I’ll let you get settled.” He moved toward the door, but your voice gave him pause.

“Actually, wait for me. I don’t want to face everyone alone. I’d prefer it if we walked together.” Bobby might be the only person in this damn place to accept you again. You wanted to cling to that, and the security it provided.

He gave a single nod. “Alright. You want any help getting settled, then?”

Together, you set about getting everything situated. Bob went around and checked the cabin for spiders, because he knew you weren’t a fan of the little (and sometimes big) guys. He found one, which he very gently coaxed into his hand (murmuring “c’mon, little buddy” as he did) and released it outside. 

Once you had your stuff organized, and did a quick clean sweep of the cabin, you were ready to join everyone else. There was a paper posted on the wall just beside the door, detailing the itinerary for counselors and other camp staff. In about fifteen minutes, dinner would be served in the mess hall. 

Directly following that, there would be an orientation meeting in the meeting hall, a place where staff meetings usually took place. Assemblies with the campers were also held there. It ws in that hall that you would be forced to face people from your past. Namely, you’d have to face Jake again. 

The thought made your stomach churn, and your hands tremble. But then, Bob’s gentle presence brought you back to the presence, and your racing heart calmed down a little. 

He offered you a kind smile. “You ready?”

“Yeah,” you said with a nod.

Together, you walked out of that cabin and into the camp grounds, falling into silence as your steps synced up. There were so many things Bobby wanted to say, but he didn’t want to inundate you with questions and confessions, so he left it. He knew you had to be terribly overwhelmed as it was. He didn’t want to be the cause of more stress.

So, silence it was, all the way until you got to the mess hall. He stopped to open the door for you, and you hesitated. 

“It’s okay,” he assured you. “I’ll be right here with you the whole time.”

You liked the sound of that. 

So, with a deep breath and squared shoulders, you stepped through that door, entering the room. Dark wood stretched out before you. The mess hall was a similar design to the cabins, just much bigger. High ceilings with unfinished wooden beams. Wooden floors and walls. Dark green paint detailing. Windows on each wall to let in natural light. A large stone fireplace in the middle of the room. 

It was very cozy, but as your gaze shifted to the table of faces to your left, you felt a chill run over you. Here goes nothing.

You appraoched the table, taking in each person seated there. At the head of the table was Pete Mitchell, Penny’s husband. He lifted his head and offered a smile, but you couldn’t quite place the look in his eyes. Beside him, Penny glanced up at you.

Then, to her right, you saw Natasha Trace. Another person you had once had a connection with. She was good friends with Bobby before you met him. The two of them had gone to school, and eventually college, together. Beside her was a woman you’d never seen before, but judging by the way Natasha held her hand, you inferred that they were in a relationship. It was no surprise to you. Nat had always made it clear that she only had eyes for women.

Then, on the other side of the woman was Mickey Garcia, another one of Bob’s good friends. His best friend, in fact. Mickey offered you a smile, and you took that as acceptance of you. He always had been rooting for you, all those summers ago.

Beside Mickey was Javy Machado. You couldn’t get a read on him. His face bore a neutral expression as he regarded you. Back then, he’d been best friends with Jake, and had therefore been completely on his side. You assumed the sentiment was still the same. 

Then, of course, there was Bradley Bradshaw. He was Pete and Penny’s surrogate son, in a way. After Bradley’s mother died when he was a teenager, Pete had brought him on to learn how to run the camp. One day, he would take charge of the place, after the husband and wife duo retired.

All of them were seated around that table, but you noticed that one was missing. You had no idea where Jake was. Maybe he wasn’t joining everyone for dinner. Maybe he’d left. A part of you hoped so.

“Wanna sit here?” Bobby asked, motioning to two seats next to Bradley. 

You nodded, and he pulled out your chair for you. Once you were seated, he took his own seat beside you, between Bradley and you. The other man leaned over the table, and you got a look at his face for the first time in six years. He’d lost his baby face, and was now sporting a defined jaw. A neatly kept mustache shadowed his upper lip. You thought it suited him. “Good to see you again,” he said.

Bradley’s statement seemed to break the ice, and a few murmurs of greeting echoed around the table. Even still, an air of awkwardness hovered over the group. You wanted to crawl out of your own skin. But you were here now, and there was no turning back. 

The food was set up around the table like a regular family dinner. Simple foods. Sandwiches. Veggies and dip. Chips. You grabbed a sandwich, but you found your stomach in knots, and the thought of eating anything nauseated you. 

“Well, Penny, you did it. Got us all to come back. Good on you,” Natasha spoke up.

Penny shrugged. “Pete and I have been talking about it for a while. I know the way things ended back in ‘80 was…bad, to say the least. But we really feel that this place has potential, and we could breathe new life into it.”

“What do the Seresins think about that?” Javy asked, his brow raised.

“We think it’s an okay idea,” a voice spoke up from across the room. 

The group looked up all at once to see the man stepping through the door. You tensed, taking in a breath. Your heart rate picked up, thudding against your chest as the chill of anxiety crawled along your spine. 

“Really?” Natasha piped up.

Jake nodded as he approached the group. “Yeah. Seeing as how Penny wants to dedicate this place to Missy. We all remember how much she loved it here. I firmly believe she’d want it to keep going.”

Penny smiled. “I’m glad we’re on the same page, Jake.”

He stopped at the empty end of the table, hands coming up to rest upon the back of the chair there. “But I do have one question.” 

“What’s that?” The woman asked.

Jake smiled, but you could tell is wasn’t a real smile. In fact, when you looked at his eyes, the pale green was filled with snake’s venom. “What the fuck is she doing here?” He jabbed his finger in your direction, and you froze, your eyes growing wide.

That was more like the reaction you’d been expecting. 

Penny faltered, her smile fading. Beside you, you felt Bob stiffen. But you didn’t dare pull your eyes away from Jake’s accusatory glare. 

“I-I just thought that–”

“I don’t care. Look, Penny; I really appreciate you putting this all together, but in what world did you think it was okay to invite the person who had a hand in my sister’s disappearance?”

“She isn’t the one who wanted to invite her. I am.” Pete stood from his seat, his eyes narrow. “I thought that she deserved a second chance. And I wanted you to find it in yourself to allow her that chance.”

“Oh, really? What, is she gonna bring my sister back? Hm?” Jake’s gaze was so cold. You wished the ground would swallow you up. How on earth could you have thought this was a good idea?

“No, but–”

“If she stays, I’m refusing the dedication. She’s the reason I lost Missy. She doesn’t get to just stand there and pretend she’s sorry, while my parents and I are still grieving.”

Your eyes had blurred with tears, and your chest was tight. You should never have come. 

But then, “leave ‘er alone, Jake.” Bobby stood up, facing the other man. 

“Oh, you coming to her rescue is rich, Baby on Board. Wasn’t it your dick she was sucking when my kid sister went missing?”

The room went dead silent.

Bob took a breath. Then two. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that. She’s here, whether you like it or not. And she deserves another chance, just as much as anybody.”

“No, you know what? You’re right. This was a mistake. I should never have come,” you spoke up, rising from your chair.

But Bobby grabbed your arm. “No. Don’t let him drive you away.” His eyes were pleading.

You pulled away from his grasp, sadly shaking your head. 

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. Then you turned to Jake. “I wish I could bring your sister back. But I can’t. You need to know that I cared about her. And I should have been more thorough when I did bed check that night. I regret it every day, and I’ve lived with that guilt for the last six years. But my guilt is nothing compared to the loss you and your parents have had to endure. And for that, I’m so fucking sorry. I’ll leave, if that’s what you’d prefer. I never should have come in the first place.”

With that, you ducked your head, pushing your chair out of the way as you scrambled toward the exit. You could hear Bob calling your name, but you ignored him, your legs carrying you quickly toward the door. Your vision had tunneled, and your chest was heavy. You had to get out of that building. You felt like you were suffocating. Like someone had pulled a plastic bag over your face.

You threw your arms out in front of you and shoved the door open, letting out a great heaving sob as you stumbled down the front steps. You made it a few feet from the stairs before you leaned forward, hands braced on your knees as you fell apart.

“Oh, God!” You cried. You heard footsteps quickly approaching. It made you whirl around. “Just leave me the fuck alone!” Came your wail.

“No! I don’t care what he says, you deserve to be here!” 

It was Bob, you realized. 

“What do you want me to do, then?! He doesn’t want me here, Bob! And I never should’ve come. So just…just pull the truck around and I’ll get my luggage and get the fuck out of here.”

“No.”

“Either you take me back to the station, or I’ll get someone else to do it!”

“No other buses are running until tomorrow morning, so you can’t leave anyway! You’re stuck here for the night.”

“Goddammit!” You yelled. “I just want to leave!”

He grabbed you by the shoulders. “You’re not listening to me! I can’t handle watching you walk away from me again. I lost you once, and I’ll be damned if I let Jake Seresin be the reason I lose you again!”

And then, silence.

“Oh.” 

He released your shoulders suddenly, his face stricken. “I-I’m sorry. I’m coming on way too strong. This is probably super overwhelming for you and I’m just making it worse.”

“No. No, you…you aren’t.” A pause. And then, “I don’t want to walk away from you again, either.”

“If you want to leave, then I’ll take you to the station tomorrow morning. But I just want you to try and stay. I know Jake doesn’t want you here, but I’m sure Pete can convince him to at least give you a chance.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

However, back inside the mess hall, a discussion was happening. “I’m sorry, Jake. I know we should have told you we invited her back. I take full responsibility for that oversight. But your parents…they knew she was coming. We checked with them beforehand. Your mom is of the belief that we should give her another chance.”

“What?” Jake asked, incredulous. 

“Yeah. So, I know it’s hard for you, but if your mom is willing to forgive, then I’m going to respect that, and give this girl a chance. You know she’s lived with this guilt for so long. I think that’s punishment enough.”

The blonde sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t like it. If it was up to me, she’d be on the next Greyhound outta here. But if my mom wants her here…” He looked out the window, eyeing you and Bob as you spoke to each other. “It boggles my damn mind, but I’ll respect my mom’s wishes. That doesn’t mean I forgive her, though. I don’t think I ever will. But you go ahead and keep her on staff. Something tells me it ain’t gonna end well, but what do I know?”

And with that, Jake stalked off in a huff. 

He swung the screen door open, and your head shot up, your eyes widening as you saw him coming down the steps. Bobby took a protective step toward you. 

“You can stay,” Jake said as he walked past. “But only because my mom is the one who wanted you here.” Then he leaned in close. Well, as close as Bob would allow him to get. “But just know this. If you fuck up in any way, shape, or form, I’ll ship you back home myself. We clear?”

“Y-yes,” you responded with a curt nod. 

“Good.” 

And with that, Jake Seresin walked away.

You let out an unsteady breath, your shoulders slumping. Bobby looked at you, his gaze questioning. “What are you gonna do?”

You shook your head. “I…I don’t…”

“You don’t need to decide now. Just sleep on it. Make your decision with a fresh mind, alright?”

“Yeah,” came your whispered reply. “Yeah, that’s–that’s what I’ll do.”

He took his baseball cap off, running his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. I know this is a lot for you. Do ya wanna just turn in early? I’m sure they’d understand if you skipped orientation.”

You considered his words, and finally, you shook your head. “No. I’ll, uh, I’ll try to go, and see how I do. But I think I’m going to just go and lay down for a while until then.”

“Want me to walk you back?”

“I’d like that.”

With a soft smile and a nod, Bobby began to guide you back toward the cabins. Your hands were shaking, and your head was spinning. It felt like someone had shoved their hands into your chest and taken hold of your lungs, squeezing them with all their might. 

It was a painfully uncomfortable feeling, and you hoped that it would pass soon. But as long as you were here, in this place that held so many memories, it would probably remain a permanent fixture in your body. The only thing that soothed it was Bobby’s presence.

Even after all these years, and after the sour note you’d left him on, being near him still felt so comforting and peaceful. It was an odd, but welcome, sensation. You hadn’t expected it to be this way. When you thought of seeing him again, you imagined it would be painfully awkward, or that maybe he would refuse to speak to you. 

But this was Robert Floyd you were talking about. He didn’t hold grudges. And if he did, then he’d been deeply hurt beyond repair. It was a relief to know that things were not beyond mending between you. At the moment, you were too overwhelmed and emotional to even consider what it might mean for you in the future. You were just grateful that he was near you again.

So much had changed. When you’d left him, he’d been more gangly. Twenty-two years old. Large wireframes perched atop his nose. All round cheeks and softer features. Now, he seemed a little taller. Or maybe, his slight bulk made him appear so. Gone were those gangly limbs, replaced with muscle that had been defined by physical labor. 

His hands, though. His hands had stayed the same. They’d always been big, but he’d grown into them. They suited him now. Strong and steady. Farmer’s hands. 

“You want me to come get you when it’s time for orientation?” The low cadence of his voice jarred you from your daydream.

“If you would? I forgot to pack my battery alarm clock, so have no way of keeping time.”

He nodded. “Sure. I can get ya one of those clocks. I actually have two, you can have one of mine.”

“You sure?”

“Yep, I don’t need two anyway. I’ll bring it to you later tonight.”

You shot him a grateful smile. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”

Together, you stopped just outside your cabin, lingering at the foot of the stairs. Bob’s face was gentle, his eyes kind. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re here. I know it’s a for you lot to be back here. And Jake didn’t help anythin’ by reacting the way he did. But if no one else is happy to see you, I want you to know that I am. I’ll respect whatever decision you make, but I really do hope you’ll stay.”

You considered his words, mulling them over in your mind. He didn’t expect you to decide at that very moment, and you knew your brain was too overworked to make that decision then as it was. So, the best you could do was nod your head. “I’ll see you in a bit, Bobby.”

He hummed, mouth quirking into a smile. “See you in a bit, Kit.”

You watched him walk away, his footsteps sure, his stance confident. He had a swagger to him that he didn’t have six years ago. It suited him well. 

With a soft sigh, you finally turned and made your way into the cabin. As soon as the screen slammed behind you, you surged forward, collapsing into your bed, which was right near the door. Immediately, you buried your face in the pillow, and everything you’d been keeping inside came spilling out of you in bitter waves.

What had you gotten yourself into?

to be continued...

-

taglist (tagging those who showed interest; if you want to be added let me know)

@withahappyrefrain @rhettabbotts @ryebecca @up-thereinthesky @oldfangirl30 @attapullman @sebsxphia @delopsia @damrlova @fairyheart @hangmanapologist @laracrofted @callsignspark @bobfloydsbabe @milesmillergf @bradshawsbitch @bradshawsbaby @floydsmuse @senawashere @creatchie8

#bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fanfiction #bob floyd smut #bob floyd angst #story: six summers

[mangalho]

Ex-warbot OC

They don’t have names yet.

The two bots with the scary faces were specifically made for war, and now that it’s over, they still maintained their original ‘warface’ even though it has stigma associated to it. Many robots changed their faceplates post-war, as it made it easier to find jobs and not get into unnecessary conflict.

The sleeker looking guy used to be in their company, though he wasn’t made in the same factory as them; he isn’t their ’batch-mate’.

After the war he completely modified his frame, and now has an idol career. He desperately wats to erase his past, as people (and robots alike) will respond better to a ‘new’ and untainted idol.

The two warface bots are “brother and sister” and they do odd jobs here and there to make ends meet and to be able to afford things they want. Rich people hire them as bouncers a lot since they are a symbol of terrible times. Sometimes they earn 15k in one night for just one gig it’s crazy. They both really love clothes since it distances them from their body’s original purpose while simultaneously not erasing their past. Also they look cute and cool!

The idol bot once meets the warfaces by chance in the street and pretends he doesn’t know them AGAHAKALAK I think he’s insane… completely erasing your past and the person you were is psychopathic to me idk. Anyway

There arent a lot of warfaces going around anymore. since they either died during the war or changed their frames. Pre-war bots were re-fitted during the conflicts and just had to go back to their former unweaponized frames after it was all over so they’re fine.  All of these robots can download information and i want that type of learning to mostly disappear if its deleted, but if they learn things like we do or experience real events, those memories and skills can’t really truly be erased; if they do try erasing them, they will still remember them, just not with HD video clarity, which brings them immense suffering sometimes. “How to people live like this?!” Well buddy it sucks idk we all cope

Newly minted robots are wack because they don’t exactly have a ‘soul’ yet they just do things they’re supposed to do, but after some time, all of them actually develop real awareness and shit… my war bots had like a 78% chance of dying everyday when they were activated, but they survived and attained sentience at like one year post birth and they wised up rly fast after that. They remember their first year, but they describe it as a ‘weird haze’

These robots feel pain so they wont like dive into a hole or damage themselves too much. Self preservation means longer-lived machines which means less repair costs and less human lives on the line as well.. slay !!!

While the conflicts went on, most robots achieved sentience and decided to stop fighting so there was like a robots rights movement and eventually the war stopped altogether and now the robots have a salary and a normal life mostly. They arent organics, so they need other things. They are solar powered and need oil sometimes and also they need new nanomachines once in a while like we need vaccines. Get your boosters… its not just tetanus and coronavirus anymore now they gotta think about like..the trojan horse 9000

I want them to have this aversion to organic things dying bc they are universally gross. Like they dont like seeing living-machines die either but a rat being squished by a car is also gross!

There are probably some tensions between humans and robots but like i kinda get it bc i wouldnt mess with a guy who has like lead pipes for arms. also most robots ARE normal but some are insane idk 🙆‍♀️🤷‍♀️ just  like people are.

 mine are normal tho they’re just vibing 💖🗣🤙

#drawans #OC #warface

[staridust]

★ DO NOT USE/REPOST WITHOUT MY PERMISSION. NO MINORS.

Jack in my Pouring Rain AU vs Jack in my Sunnyverse AU

Gonna ramble a bit here about the two portrayals, there’s a lot more typing space here so I will also be using my posts as a bit of infodump sometimes! ↓

For starters, I really adore Jack as a design and character, there’s not much I wanted to alter about him in the design department, so all changes are subtle!

✦ Starting with Pouring Rain!Jack!

This guy’s probably the closest to how he’s presented in game honestly— still manipulative, still colorful, probably a bit more deranged because his sunshine keeps forgetting shit.

Art wise, I wanted to really keep the colors on him vibrant, but also give him sort of a dim vibe as well. His hair is a bit more reflective of turquoise highlights with a gradient of a muted darker blue at the tips.

I like to imagine Jack uses colorful knives (if he most certainly has to use one). I have colorful knives in my house, it just seemed right as I was doing the dishes one day. He also changed his paints ever so slightly, because stars are very important to him.

He’s also rather glitchy when upset, but not that of a computer glitch when it happens.. more of like… something that’s being rewinded and re-written over numerous times, no?

Or, maybe I have no idea what I’m talking about!

And finally, the colorful paint on him!

Rain!Jack’s original sunshine way back nowhere was actually a graffiti artist, so does Jack know how to paint? It’s not like he would say, but it is a bit easier to play off a mysterious red stain if you’re covered in all the other colors.

——

✦ Ending with Sunnyverse!Jack!

Sunnyverse, is quite frankly a bit of a community like idea. The premise being quite similar to the same notion of Spiderverse, where multiple of the characters can exist and vibe but may look different, while still following a canon of sorts. It’s basically like showing off your characters and AUs in your style!

(Honestly, with a name like that, maybe I should draw Spider-Jack… *Sunrise Spider?*)

This Jack is a divergent of the idea where the fictional world of CloudyTown is real. ← This information also is a slight spin-off of an unofficial AU called “Sunny Time Town” by artist Sauce! I will also be using “Sunnyverse” for the official name of my AU that includes my ocs that switch up the story in a non-yandere manner!

SV!Jack here rocks a bowtie and suspenders with the design paying a full tribute to a sketch I did in March! I’ve seen a few comments relating it to his teaching profession… and now I can’t I see it, haha!

To contrast Rain!Jack, SV!Jack’s hair is a nice pure blue gradient that dips into indigo/purple at the tips!

I added his belt as a tie in both of them (don’t ask why the belt is doing a :3), but now I hear the belt is sentient… that’s a cool idea I seen around, I gotta learn about that!

That’s about all the information I had on this piece though, til next time!

#Sunny Day Jack #Sunny Day Jack AU #SWWSDJ #I just really wanted to draw jack twice #types way too much for a simple infodump #I have a lot of time to develop shit #should probably be sleeping rn #SDJPouringRain #SDJSunnyverse

[winndycakes]

I did not wish to make this, I do not wish to bring bad light to others, so I am doing everything I can in this statement to keep it as vague as possible to grant others the same privacy I should have. But because my privacy was not respected I have no choice but to come forward with this.

If you know what I am talking about, then this is my side of things. If you don't know what I am talking about, then please move on.

(Also to note, I realize what day I am posting this on. This is absolutely NOT a joke.)

To preface this. My dad died suddenly Feb 26th. I cannot begin to detail what it feels like to lose him, after I've lost many others, to try and handle my emotions and grief while also handling the logistics of his belongings and estate, all this while having to write this on top of it. If I come across as intense, this is why. 

I was in a discord server when it first opened. I dedicated a lot of time, energy, art and passion to it. I was even a mod at one point but stepped down due to my own reasons. 

While there, we had an anonymous survey posted to gather information from the community about the server, what we could do to improve, what was liked and so on. Instead, some used it as a means to anonymously complain about members. I was a target of these complaints. 

A quick note. This server was made within a community that has suffered MANY hardships due to anons. Keep this in mind.

One of the rules is that if you have a personal grievance with another member, to try to resolve it through DMs before coming to a mod or to even send in a ticket.

I must be clear; I was NEVER DMed by anyone how I made them uncomfortable. Not once. Nor were these complaints directly messaged to the mods. This was all through the survey (I will touch up more on this later).

I and other staff/mods that used to be on the team suggested we remove the anonymity. It's too risky for it to be abused, because as noted earlier, this community has suffered a lot through abuse from anons. This suggestion was ignored.

Now, I suppose I should say what the complaints were about. I was told I made others uncomfortable due to, and I am paraphrasing here; "talking over others, redirecting conversations back to myself and my ocs, and making too many jokes and insults about characters."

I will also say. I am autistic. What was mentioned are signs of someone with autism. My dad was autistic. I do not bring this up to deflect or excuse anything, merely to give further context.

I want to explain a bit of my process when I interact with others, in this case especially pertaining to an online space.

When I am talking with someone, anyone, I try to be as inclusive and welcoming as I can be. Saying hello, how they’re doing, that sort of thing. But a conversation is a two way street. If I don’t get a reply or any sort of means to keep the conversation going, I move on. That’s just… how talking goes. I can get very passionate in talking to folks, especially friends and things in line with my interests. It’s hard for me to notice if folks are uncomfortable in person, online it is impossible to tell. I need people to tell me directly if I am doing something uncomfortable and what it is, and if I can fix it.

My process for ocs is this: I see someone talking about their oc, they say something that reminds me of one of mine, then I share my oc. This is not to direct the conversation to me, but to share in it, it is in conjunction. I want to learn more of yours and I do that best by sharing mine. I cannot know if this isn't what you want if I am not told. And I wasn't.

I like to make jokes about characters, analyze them, critique them. I try to do this in a way that makes it clear this isn't an insult to those who like the character(s). But again, I need to be told directly by someone if I need to stop or tone it down. I would only be told sparingly by folks, and when I would, of course I'd stop, do my best to tone it down. But again, I was rarely told directly by people.

What is being described as my crimes are simply the experience of being autistic.

I cannot control it. I cannot stop it. I try to be as inclusive, warm and welcoming to all I come across. You do not HAVE to like me. But if you don't, just ignore me. You HAVE to learn to ignore people who you just… don't like. You have to learn to ignore pet peeves or to reasonably talk to the person. That's life.

So, when I received the above message, I was furious. I was at my dad’s apartment, cleaning out his stuff, and dealing with some harrowing emotions when I got this. I responded that getting this was extremely poor timing and yes, I was angry. But the one who sent this KNEW my dad died. They had seen me post about it, they acknowledged it, and still decided to message me. Who wouldn’t be angry?

Because of what I had been messaged, and the timing, I had decided to go to the owner of the server. I did not feel like it was appropriate for a mod, any mod, to message me about something that is a personal issue that folks should have messaged me themselves (and again, it is listed in the rules that things SHOULD be talked out privately between members before a mod gets involved), in a time that has been hell on earth for me.

I explained to the server owner what all happened with my feelings on the matter. I said that regardless, I would leave the server, because this was something that no one, absolutely no one, should experience. I requested for anything I contributed to the server to be removed, for I no longer felt comfortable for folks to use my art who could be the very same ones pettily using an anonymous survey to speak ill of me. So I sent my message, waited, and got a response.

I do not have anything against the server owner, but there are a few things that I must address with their response as well, because some are factually incorrect. There is full admittance to the complaints received through the anonymous survey, most recently at that. This goes counter to the rules stated that members should resolve private disputes amongst themselves first. (Again please note the screenshots of the rules.)

While perhaps not all of the mods knew of my dad’s passing, but enough DID that they should have known better. I posted briefly in the server in a slow thread so it could be better seen by people, including the mods. I had posted on tumblr as well. But the claim is no one saw it. 

Again. This is just not true. Look to the above screenshots.

I do not have a screenshot of when I had sent the message initially in the server of my dad’s passing (I apologize for this), but the point being is that people knew. Another member messaged me in DMs to give their condolences. While I am and have been open about his passing, I also tried my best to not talk too much about it in the server as to bring down the mood, and I sought out the server and talked there as a source of comfort. Saying this was not clear to anyone, is false.

Now, I am sorry that I made people uncomfortable, it was never my intention to, and I will take fault in that. That isn’t what I mean to address in all this. The issue is; if people were uncomfortable, they needed to follow the rules and come to me DIRECTLY stating such, NOT give these complaints through an anonymous survey. And that I should NOT have been told during such an awful period. How can I take this at face value when I am not offered the same?

I wish to point out as well, why I kept bringing up the anonymous survey, and to bring back a note I made earlier.

There is a great deal of falsehood in using an anonymous survey to gather information, when this community has experienced a lot of hardship from anons. I have seen many people torn down and even chased out of this community and others because of people hiding behind anon. Creators, fans, and yes members, mods and even the server owner have all been victim to negativity from anons. 

Now, I also must bring attention to this.

This is a screenshot I was sent of another mod posting, after I left. This is ABSOLUTELY NOT OKAY. This is why I feel the need to make this statement. Giving details like this is completely unnecessary, and with this said after I left is unacceptable.

I am sorry to be redundant, but I truly am sorry if I ever did make people uncomfortable. All I wanted to do was to make friends and share in the joy in creating art and characters with others. To share space in a community with something I truly found enjoyable. It’s why I’d get enthusiastic whenever OC’s were brought up and I’d share mine. I also wanted to share joy in the topic of the server, and yes some of that for me IS making jokes about characters or even giving critique.

I am not saying any of this to bad mouth or slander anyone. I say all of this to express my side of things. Someone who is grieving the loss of their dad, and so many others who came before him that are making me remember now because of his passing.

#winndy serious

[ash-rigby]

I'm doing a raffle where 3 winners get to request a story from me.

I’ll be taking submissions until January 9th and will draw names on the 10th.

Please read all the below information before entering.

Basic Rules/How To Enter:

You must be a follower of this blog.

You must have your age/age range in your bio and be 21 or older (there are personal comfort reasons for that age minimum; sorry 18-20 folks). I won't accept "I'm not comfortable showing my age but I swear I'm 21+".

Reply to this post, send a non-anonymous ask, or DM me to say you want to enter the raffle. Only do this once; spamming will get your name taken off the list and you may get blocked if it's severe enough.

Don't send your request at this time. We'll talk about what you want if you win.

Once I draw the winners, I’ll make a public post listing them and they’ll be contacted via DM (we can move over to Discord at that point if you would prefer). I ask that winners respond to the DM within a week’s time or I may assume you’ve ghosted and draw another person in your place (so if you’ve entered and aren't one to check tumblr every day, just make sure you take a peek over here sometime between the 10th and 17th in case you've won).

The stories won't be worked on at the same time. They will be completed and posted in the draw order of the names. You're basically winning the ability to choose the direction of my next three stories.

If this goes well (i.e. there's enough interest), I will likely run similar raffles in the future!

My DMs and inbox are open for any questions.

Things to Consider:

Requests are required to follow my guidelines of what I do and do not write about. Please familiarize yourself with them; particularly the "don'ts"

I won't be accepting requests for stories involving your OCs. This will be available through paid commissions when I start taking them.

I also prefer to keep my erotica in the realm of original fiction, so I won't be accepting requests for fanfiction.

Requests can be for reader inserts rather than the 3rd person POV of my typical work. I'll be using the 2nd person method ("you", "your" etc.) due to personal gripes with ''y/n''.

In case it wasn't obvious, requests will remain oneshot short stories, so don't expect that I'll write a multi-chapter slowburn for you for free.

Any requests for groups can't exceed threesomes.

You can request monster/monster stories that exclude a human character entirely.

You can request stories involving characters of mine. They can be continuations of existing works or new ones entirely. I'm happy to write about any one of them.

Also Note:

I value my time, effort, and mental well-being. If you start acting belligerent or entitled during our correspondence, I hold the right to reject your request, potentially block you, and pick someone else. General rule of thumb: be respectful and patient 💜

Good luck, and thank you!

#text #mild #writing requests #raffle

[roachemoji]

A “Guide” to working with Artists with Aphantasia

DISCLAIMER: 

I KNOW ARTISTS WITHOUT APHANTASIA ALSO USE REFERENCES

This is not going to be applicable to ALL artists (with OR WITHOUT aphantasia)

I don’t speak for everyone!!!

PLEASE Read the information artists provide you THUROUGHLY

ASK ARTISTS WHAT KIND OF INFORMATION THEY NEED

I’m sorry about the typos I am dyslexic and no one is beta reading this :3c

HERE IS THE OG TWITTER POST

I made this guide out of frustration. I was having a hard time communicating with commissioners how much visual information I needed, and that giving me creative freedom doesn’t, personally, work for me. It all comes down to the why; Aphantasia. 

... I realized a lot of people don’t understand what that is, and how it might affect an artist. 

Note: I am a character artist!!! I do personal commissions!!!! I don’t do commercial work!! This guide is about things that I have found extremely helpful!! This may not work for everyone!!!!!!!!!!! 

So, here is the official written guide to what I, personally, have found helpful when getting commissions:

A healthy dose of both written and visual information is needed, but the percentage of which heavily depends on the type of commission and how familiar I am with the characters. 

- Is it an illustration of a scene between two character? Descriptive information on the scene, the emotions, general vibe, dialogue are more important to the composition - but visual references on each character (and their characteristics), the space, the palette, and any objects would be needed. 

- Is it a reference sheet commission? Descriptive information is no longer as important, and the main focus is on the visuals. Descriptive information would be limited to a brief description of personality, placement of certain markings, and/or the written information on the reference. Visuals would be EVERYTHING - every single aspect of that character would need a reference. 

Google Docs, Google Drives, PDFs, Character pages (Toyhou.se or Refsheet.net) is an easy way to compile both written and visual information in one place! 

What is some good visual information to compile for your characters? 

Physical

Age/Race/height/body type

Skin colour/ scars/ freckles/ skin conditions etc

Eye colour/shape

Nose shape

Hair colour/texture/style/decorations

Any additional details (prosthetics limbs/no limbs!/tattoos/piercings/wings)

Face Claims are extremely helpful - and it’s okay to have more than one!  It’s good to specify which parts of what reference are important to your character

Items

Clothing/Jewelry/Accessories

Weapons

Personal Items

Companions

Here is an example of how I organize my Pinterest boards for my own Ocs:

Appearance: Every single visual reference I would need for their physical appearance. Faceclaims, hair styles/texture/colours, facial hair, body types, hand shapes, nose shapes, lip shapes, eye shapes

Aesthetic: Helpful for illustrations. Palettes and aesthetics that I attribute to these characters. Art styles, symbols, colours, settings, etc...

Outfits: Outfits and accessories. Full outfits or single items, textures, colours, patterns.

NOTE: It’s important to remember that some artists can only work with certain references (ie. drawn references vs photo references). If you’re unsure/your artists hasn’t stated which works best for them - ask!  

I cannot work with drawn references in simplistic styles (anime specifically), and I struggle with using nothing but Final Fantasy screenshots. They’re important when it comes to providing colour or even outfit references - but facial features are much harder for me to translate.

Some artists are okay with things like piccrews and can translate them very well! I can’t.

What is some good visual information to compile for your characters?

Written information can vary from commission to commission; unless the illustration is based off a story, I don’t need a novel to be written about the piece. 

Being dyslexic also makes it a struggle for me to parse through written information - I tend to have to break it down outside of the initial commission submission to fully understand what. I also tend to ask a ton more questions when I’m provided more written information than visual - revisions take time and energy.

It’s important to have visual to accompany your written info; 

( shout out to @moki-dokie​ for letting me use their info as an example!! )

Commission information examples 

DESIGN COMMISSIONS:

Info given:

Outcome: 

Easiest character design commission I have ever done. The information given was so concise that the only revisions were my own suggestions on the design itself. 

---

Info Given:

Outcome:

a TON of written information was given to explain the characters backstory, to further drive my understand of the aesthetic and setting of the world the character lives in. The pinterest board provided had a lot physical references, outfits, aesthetics, and colours.

---

ILLUSTRATION COMMISSIONS:

Info Given:

Outcome:

I had a lot of previous information on both of these characters (I designed the top one myself), but I was provided limited written information for this; Holiday Discord call where Toad (character one) is getting a present from Zalem (character two). Zalem is barely hiding how they feel about Toad who is excited.

 All other information provided was visual; Outfits and room aesthetics. 

We discussed poses in Dms and collaboratively found references.

---

Info Given:

Outcome: 

Absolute favorite example of the PERFECT amount of information given and the PERFECT amount of creative freedom given. 

I was handed character references with all angles as well as their armor + how to simply the armor. Pose + expression references. A general aesthetic + palette to work with. The setting. A doodle to lay out exactly what they were visualizing. 

I have all the information you could need! Now what?

I am very privileged to no longer need to take first come first serve commissions, and it’s given me the ability to really sit back and filter through the commissions that I want to do, and those that I immediately do not consider. 

I think it’s important that,  before commissioning anyone, you should ask yourself a couple important questions:

Does this artist’s style suit what I want?

Does my character suit what this artist usually draws?

Do the references I have provide the right amount of information for the specific artist I want to commission?

Sometimes the answer to these questions are; No.

... and that’s okay?

Unfortunately, not every artist is going to be able to bring your vision to life, or feel happy with the completed piece! 

If you’re someone who has Big Buff Demon Men characters that are drawn in a heavily realistic style - you might not ask an artist who draws smaller, softer characters with squishier shapes and a general aesthetic that doesn’t match your Ocs! 

If you’re someone who has characters and all of their references are in an anime style (including other commissioned work), and you have no realistic face claims... maybe commissioning that semi-realistic artist and not providing them with the references the need to translate your character into a semi-realistic style isn’t a good idea? 

I don’t understand when some people get upset when they commission an artist who clearly doesn’t draw characters that look like theirs and they clearly... don’t translate them as well.  I am making this extremely clear RIGHT NOW before anyone says anything:  Everyone can and SHOULD learn to draw the entire spectrum of humanity. From facial features, hair textures, body types, etc...

But some artists struggle to draw characters with certain aesthetics? Outfits? Accessories? You wouldn’t expect an artist who draws soft pastel art to suddenly translate your extremely rough, hard, and hot character properly?

Now, if all the answers are Yes? 

Read all information provided thoroughly 

Ask questions for clarity

Provide what you can, collaborate on what you can’t

Resources

@anonbeadraws​ post: Reference sheet for your commission references!

JAMIErightmeow’s video: I have APHANTASIA

Aphantasia Dot Com

#my art #artists on tumblr #guide #aphantasia #artist with aphantasia #UH #damn i wasnt gonna write this much lmao #I hope this helps people #its helped a ton of people on twitter already #UH ANYWAY #if youre about to comment some shit like oOoOigiOIgioOIoI #IT HELPS PPL WHO DONT HAVE APHANTASIA TOO #shut up #please #i know #i am AWARE #THIS is for MY HOMIES #but also use this as a resource if you need it??? #kiss kiss kiss kiss