JellyBeanFusion

Deep in my obsessive fangirl era. she/her 🏳️‍🌈

[creekwyrm]

how to tell mutual they intrigue me greatly and i would be honoured to be allowed to grow a friendship where i may study them up close without saying any of that

[creekwyrm]

how to tell mutual i know i havent interacted with them directly in like five months but i still think of them highly and semifrequently and their art is still a source of inspiration for my own

[squishyowlbear]

Happy Pink Undies Sunday! Individual images under the cut.

Beautiful ficlet by @renmackree that was inspired by the art! 😭 💜

"It tickles," Derek murmured softly as he felt the brush against his skin. It wasn't anything he couldn't handle, but he loved the way Stiles' fingers twitched when he interrupted his concentration. It was just enough to make Stiles remember Derek was the one he was painting, but not enough to pull him out of the focus completely.

"Suck it up big guy, I'm almost done."

Derek smiled softly at the nickname. It wasn't the most romantic of their names, but it was the familiar one. "But you told me not to move. I can't suck anything."

That made the fingers on his thigh twitch even more. He smiled again as Stiles began painting another broad swipe over his stomach, the bristles of the brush course but delicate. Stiles was always delicate with his art—brush, pencils, chalk, ink, pen, tattoos—whatever medium it was. It was one of the only things delicate about him.

The soft silence of the loft was comforting as Stiles continued, Derek thinking about the warm leg between his thighs and the comforting heartbeat of his mate. Derek took a slow, easy breath and smiled again. "I love you, moon."

"I love you too, wolf," Stiles said, Derek feeling the hand stop painting for a second and then lips on his. Warm, comforting, and tasting like the chocolate chip pancakes Derek had made this morning. "Now hold still or I'll be doing this all day."

"As long as you're touching me, that's alright with me."

[shitpostingsterek]

[melioristicbeast]

Derek: 'I'm fine' Stiles: 🚨🚨🚨 (honestly this goes both ways for these two)

Birthday gift art for @sparassiss who requested Stiles holding Derek after a crappy day, and you know what - a good ol' Stilinski Hug would probably fix him a lil' bit ♡

Available on RedBubble 💚

[brainstreams]

Don't use AI to write. Use cocaine like a real author.

[mrkgrl]

Old art

[spacejjunk]

Hi friend! Can I get a thin slice with bacon and pineapple and breadsticks on the side (you promised)? 🫶

everyone i know goes away in the end

pairing: daryl dixon x reader

w/c: 1330

warnings/tags: angst, no comfort, mention of major character uhh disappearance, daryl being a dick, girl dad daryl

masterlist // pizza party

The lamp in the kitchen had burned low, the wick sputtering against the glass. Outside the walls of Alexandria, the world felt quieter than it should have after Rick’s death- like the bridge explosion had sucked all the noise out of the air and left only the hollow echo of what used to be. You sat at the table with Ellie in your lap, her small body heavy with sleep she was fighting. She was six now, old enough to understand that people could disappear and never come back, but young enough to still believe that if she waited hard enough, her daddy would walk through the door.

“Daddy’s looking for Uncle Rick again,” she mumbled against your collarbone, fingers twisting in the fabric of your shirt. “He said he’d be home before my birthday. That was two weeks ago.”

You pressed your lips to the top of her head, breathing in the faint scent of the lavender soap you’d used on her hair earlier. “I know, baby. He’s trying to find him.”

“But Uncle Rick is gone,” Ellie whispered, voice cracking. “Like… really gone. Everybody says so. Why won’t Daddy come home?”

You didn’t have an answer that wouldn’t break her heart more than it already was. Daryl had been out in the woods for days at a time since the bridge. He came back only to resupply- grab fresh bolts, water, maybe a few hours of restless sleep on the couch before he was gone again before sunrise. His eyes had gone hollow in a way you hadn’t seen since the early days on the road. Grief had carved new lines into his face, and every time you tried to touch him he flinched like the contact hurt.

Ellie’s breathing evened out eventually. You carried her upstairs, tucked the rabbit Daryl had found under her arm, and sat on the edge of her bed until the tears dried on her cheeks. Then you went back downstairs and waited.

The door opened near midnight. Daryl stepped inside like a ghost- boots caked in mud, leaves still clinging to his vest, the smell of pine and damp earth and old sweat rolling off him. His crossbow was slung across his back, and there was a fresh scrape along his jaw. He didn’t look at you at first. Just set his pack down and headed for the sink like he always did.

“You missed her birthday,” you said quietly from the doorway.

His shoulders tensed. Water ran over his hands. “Couldn’t get back in time. Trail went cold out past the old train tracks. Thought maybe-”

“Rick is dead, Daryl.” The words came out sharper than you meant them to. “We combed over every piece of debris from that bridge. They found blood. Michonne said-”

“Don’t.” He shut the water off hard. “Don’t start with that shit. I ain’t givin’ up on him.”

“You’re giving up on us.” You stepped closer, voice low so you wouldn’t wake Ellie but shaking with everything you’d been holding in for weeks. “She asked me tonight if you were ever coming home for real. She thinks you don’t want to be her daddy anymore because Uncle Rick is more important.”

Daryl turned then, eyes flashing with that familiar mix of exhaustion and anger. “You think I want to be out there? You think I like sleepin’ in the dirt wonderin’ if I’m ever gonna find enough of him to bury? He saved my life more times than I can count. I owe him-”

“You owe her!” Your voice rose despite yourself. “You owe me. After the bridge, when everything was falling apart, you sat right there on that couch and you promised me you wouldn’t disappear into this. You said you wouldn’t let grief turn you into somebody who forgets he has a family waiting. You promised.”

The words hung between you like a live wire. Daryl’s jaw worked, muscle ticking hard. For a second you saw the crack in him- the man who had held you after Rick’s death and whispered that he wasn’t going anywhere. Then the wall came back up.

“I can’t just sit here playin’ house while he’s still out there somewhere,” he growled. “What if he’s hurt? What if he’s waitin’ for somebody to find him? I ain’t leavin’ him like that.”

“And what about leaving us like this?” You were crying now, silent hot tears tracking down your face. “She’s six years old, Daryl. She draws pictures of you and Rick every single day and then cries when I put her to bed because her daddy isn’t here to tell her they’re good. You think Rick would want this? You think he’d want you abandoning your own kid to chase his ghost through the woods?”

“Don’t you put words in his mouth,” Daryl snapped, stepping closer. “You don’t get to use him against me.”

“I’m not using him. I’m telling you the truth. You’re losing us. Right now. While you’re out there looking for someone who’s already gone, your daughter is in there wondering why her daddy doesn’t love her enough to come home.”

He flinched like you’d hit him. For a moment the only sound was the ticking of the clock on the wall and the distant creak of the watchtowers outside. Then Daryl grabbed his pack and crossbow in one rough motion.

“I can’t do this,” he said, voice rough. “Not tonight. I gotta go back out.”

“Daryl, don’t you walk out that door.” Your voice broke on the last word. “If you leave right now, after everything we just said-”

But he was already moving. The door opened and closed behind him with a finality that made your stomach drop. You ran to the window in time to see him stride toward the gate without looking back. The guards called out, confused, but he didn’t stop. The barricade scraped open. The night swallowed him whole.

You stood there for a long time, forehead pressed to the glass, watching the empty road.

Days turned into weeks.

No word. No visits. A few scouts came back from the deeper woods and mentioned seeing fresh tracks or a campfire far out past the river, but Daryl never came close enough to the community for anyone to speak to him. Once, someone said they’d heard a crossbow bolt whistle through the trees near an old hunting blind, but when they went to check, he was already gone again.

Ellie stopped asking when he was coming home. She started drawing quieter pictures- just her and you, sometimes with a blank space where Daddy used to be. At night she climbed into your bed and curled against your side like she was afraid you might vanish too.

You lay awake most nights staring at the ceiling, anger and grief and fear twisting together until you couldn’t tell them apart. You replayed the argument in your head until the words blurred. You promised. He had. And then he’d walked into the woods and stayed there.

One evening, weeks later, you stood on the wall with Ellie’s small hand in yours, both of you looking out at the endless stretch of trees. The sun was setting blood-red behind the branches.

“Do you think Daddy’s still looking for Uncle Rick?” she asked softly.

You squeezed her fingers. “Yeah, baby. I think he is.”

She was quiet for a long moment. “Do you think he remembers us?”

You didn’t answer right away. The wind moved through the leaves like a whisper. Somewhere out there, Daryl was moving through the underbrush, crossbow in hand, still searching for a man who was never coming back- while the family he’d promised to protect waited behind walls that suddenly felt too empty.

“I don’t know,” you said finally, voice barely above the wind. “I really don’t know.”

Ellie leaned her head against your arm. You held her tighter and kept watching the woods, waiting for a figure that never appeared.

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

[melioristicbeast]

I wasn't finished with the color scheme and scene from my heart boner drawing ♡

Happy Valentine's!

This one goes out to my friend K who pointed out I hadn't drawn them kissing yet lol

[rozanovsilyas]

I’m not leaving, okay? Not again.

[jellybeanfusion]

On today's episode of ignoring adult responsibilities in favor of doing fangirl shit...

I have circled back my bookbinding fixation and who would I be (because I literally have no chill) if I didnt immediately make that hobby Sterek-centric as well?

Soooo, best to start with one of my faves:

*** Yes, I know the commodification of fanfiction is a crime -- I only bind fics for personal use ***

[thevulturesquadron]

Practice sketches so I can get a better grip of their faces 🍀

[gayhockeyshow]

Hey…. Hey… Characters covered in blood, okay? You remember characters covered in blood?? You used to love characters covered in blood

[butmakeitgayblog]

[aropride]

opened my wip and didnt immediately write a thousand new beautiful and perfect words so i'm going to smash my laptop with a hammer

[jellybeanfusion]

Did I base my vacation destination around the ability to travel to the very building where THE ✨️pool scene✨️ was filmed?

No of course not, that would be insane. I'm an adult who can like things a normal amount (she said totally believably)

But did I?

.....I'd be lying if I said it wasnt at least a little bit of a factor in my trip planning

[allthingswhumpyandangsty]

[jellybeanfusion]

My gods drawing is so much harder than I remember. To all the amazing artists that come across my feed daily--you deserve all of the applause, ALL OF IT.

Anyway... I saw @isthatbloodonhisshirt 's post about trying to get more Sterek artwork out there for our beloved boys and I figured trying my hand at it would be better than doom scrolling. Is it great? No. Absolutely not. But oh well, I gave it a shot.

I feel like Stiles would get the biggest kick out of coming up with new cliche dog names to write on Derek's cup each morning and Derek would just roll his eyes, feigning annoyance but also never going to any other coffee shop.