A Connverse art week!? In the year of our Lord, 2024!?
Here's how this works: I've given you two prompts for every day of the week from March 17th to the 23rd, 2024. For each day, you choose one of the prompts—or both, who's counting?—and make an art piece with said prompt in mind. It's really that simple; you even have 3 whole weeks to prepare your pieces!
The best part? Any type of art can be entered! Whether it be traditional, digital, fanfiction, music, edits, animation, whatever! Just, uh, make sure entries stay PG-13, alright? And no plagiarism!
All submissions should be tagged with #GlowWeek and/or #Connverse for maximum visibility! I will reblog any entries I find, so make sure I can actually, y'know, find your entires.
Lastly: please spread the word! Reblog, share; show your friends, your neighbor, your dog, anyone who will listen! More eyes = more Connverse art, got it?
Any questions should be directed toward my ask box. Oh, and here's my personal blog.
Glow bracelet art is by @imaplatypus-art.
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Fandom: Steven Universe
Rating: Teen Audiences
Words: 1.4K~
Summary: Steven surprises Connie with a handmade gift.
Written for Glow Week 2024, for the prompt "Casual or Surprise."
@glowweek
This one took a while, but woo! Got a prompt done! It encompasses both prompts for the day in some way.
If you read this and enjoy, I’d greatly appreciate your support through reblogs here, or kudos/comments on AO3. Thank you! <3
__
“So, uh… I made you a little something,” Steven begins, a nervous little waver rising in the tenor of his voice.
“Oh?” Connie hums, glancing up from her book to match eyes with her friend, recently turned boyfriend. His cheeks are flushed, and he stands at the foot of the stairs as if rearing to rush up to the next level at any moment. What’s all this about?
He taps his fingertips together, his gaze floating off as he proceeds to babble away, bless him.
“Now, as context, I know it’s like, nowhere near your birthday or anything, and you’ve always been more of an ‘acts of service’ and ‘quality time’ kind of person than the sort who goes for gifts, but… well, I’ll just show you! Stay right there!”
He careens up those steps with an altogether giddy smile lighting up his face, his eager footfalls echoing throughout the whole beach house. And while she’s of course piqued with curiosity on what this mysterious little gift could be, what stands out to her most about this moment is the heartwarming realization that this is the biggest smile she’s seen from him in a very long time. It’s no understatement to say these past few months have been the most challenging months of his entire life. No, it’s not an understatement at all. And sure, many may question how she— a mere teenager with miles of her own crap still left to work through— can ever bear it, willfully spending so many hours of her life with someone in such a state of distress. Willfully asking said person to be her boyfriend while he’s trudging through the most treacherous thickets of therapy. Her parents, pragmatic as they are, even went to the extent of warning her when she voiced this intention to them… asking if she was emotionally prepared to shoulder both the natural and uncommon hardships that were sure to come with dating a boy who— just months prior— loathed his own existence so much that he literally corrupted himself into a monster.
The answer, however, is and always shall be an emphatic yes.
Because she loves him.
Because he makes her world feel like magic.
Because the things they’ve experienced together have eternally linked them at the hip.
Because she can’t imagine a worthwhile future without him anymore.
Because the lighter, casual moments like these— just hanging out together in the house, reading a book, watching her boyfriend all flushed and happy and bashful around her— make every single day of potential hardship in between worth it.
And when he dashes down the stairs clutching a huge but slender, messily wrapped parcel in both hands, tied up with curling ribbon at its ends, she discovers yet another reason why she adores him so much.
“A little something?” she says with a playful gasp, setting her book down on the coffee table as she stands to her feet. “Steven, that’s like three feet long! What on Earth did you—”
“Just open it,” he beams, passing the parcel to her.
And open it she does.
Connie is normally very deliberate in the way she pulls gift wrap apart— working from the edges so she can avoid tearing or wrinkling the paper and has scraps to re-wrap other presents in— but the second she’s revealed even the smallest swath of Steven’s handmade gift her heart skips a beat, and she feels compelled to rip the rest away in mere seconds, impatient in her desire to admire the full item.
It’s a scabbard.
More specifically, it’s a leather skinned scabbard, artfully detailed with the same repeating glyph motif that forms the borders on the maps featured within her Spirit Morph Saga books. Said detailing is a little messy, every last line clearly tooled by hand, but exudes so much love and care. There are also golden fittings affixed to the end and throat of this scabbard, as well as two sturdy buckles she could use to fasten it to her baldric.
“It’s not perfect,” her boyfriend comments, carding his fingers through the curls at the nape of his neck, “and the fittings didn’t really come out as smooth as I wanted, but I remember you always saying your current scabbard was too heavy, so… I thought I’d make a new one.”
“Wow, I—” she breathes in disbelief, running her hand across the tanned leather with reverence. “This is incredible! How did you even—?”
“Bismuth helped with a lot of it,” he says with a bit of a laugh, moving to sit on the couch again. (She follows suit, gently laying his handiwork on the table before them.) “She let me use some of her tools, and even found the original mold for your sword for me to take measurements from. Those fittings?” he points towards the metal in question, a little dented and uneven in shape, but undeniably sturdy. “Took five attempts to get right. I kept cooling them too fast.”
“Is this real leather?” she marvels, continuing to admire the nearly smooth, flat grain texture.
“Actually, yes,” he nods. “I wouldn’t usually spring for the real stuff, but… well, my uncle had a bunch of old hides he wasn’t using that he inherited from his grandfather. And then, fun fact, the core of this doesn’t even come from Earth at all! It’s sourced from some fallen trees on one of the restored Kyanite Cluster colonies. Supposed to be some of the lightest yet durable wood out there.”
Her eyes outright glisten under the intensity of all the effervescent emotions coursing through her veins. “So you’re saying you made me a scabbard from complete scratch with heirloom leather and space wood?”
“Do you… like it?” he says, rocking back and forth in his seat, no doubt probing every last facet of her expression to try and decipher her truest sentiments on his gift.
She throws out her arms in want of an embrace. “Are you kidding? I fucking love it!”
Pure, undiluted adoration surges straight through her very heart as she outright throws herself at her boyfriend, clutching upon the thick woolen folds of his jacket as she nuzzles her chin at the crook of his neck, her slow exhale radiating warmth against his skin.
She’s no stranger to an unexpected lavish gift— she remembers with fondness that day her parents surprised her with a violin, or the delicately embroidered sari her mother got her for her twelfth birthday.
But this gift… this gift was made especially for her, and the sheer sentimentality of that realization has her falling in love with this boy all over again.
“All this tooling,” she asks a few moments later, once they’ve ended their embrace. “Steven, how long did this even take you?”
A small laugh— perhaps in disbelief at the vast scope of his own handiwork— bubbles through the beginning of his reply. “Many, many weeks. I just followed some TubeTube tutorials for the bulk of it. It was nice, though— a surprisingly stress relieving outlet.”
She nods. “Yeah, I bet.”
At that point, Steven glances aside, giving (in the context of this otherwise joyous little moment) an uncharacteristically heavy exhale. Her lips curve into a frown as she studies him, his expression growing all pensive and line-y like it does whenever he’s reflecting on more personal matters. Hmm. What’s he noodlin’ about this time?
Thankfully, for once she doesn’t have to ask.
“Connie, I— you’ve been such a source of strength for me these past months,” he begins, endlessly wringing his fingers together in his lap, “and… I guess I just wanted to make you something to say that— well, that I see you. And I thank you. And that I’m so, so eternally indebted to you.”
“You’re not indebted to me, silly,” she says in the softest tone she can manage, capturing both his hands within hers, calming their nervous fidgeting. “This gift is really thoughtful and sweet and I adore every inch of it, but please— in the future, please don’t feel like you have to ‘make up’ for anything. I’m choosing to stand by your side through all this, remember? And you know why?”
The barest hint of a smile blooms across his face, the tips of his ears turning beet red.
“Because you love me very, very dearly and I need to stop listening to my jerk ass brain—?” he echoes her own line sheepishly, voice cracking at the edges like it hasn’t since he finally got his growth spurt.
“You said it yourself, mister. Now come ‘ere, you—“
With a soft giggle, she pulls him forward by the lapels of his jacket and plants a chaste kiss against his lips.
She can tell he’s not quite at a stage of recovery where he’s emotionally capable of understanding why, but one thing’s for damn sure:
She’d say yes to this boy for a thousand eternities.
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