#aro writers

[leahnardo-da-veggie]

Other aspec writers, do you struggle with making romantic relationships sound real? I always thought of romance as friendship with a bunch of extra steps, and as a result, all my friends claim my couples don't sound anything like couples.

Just wondering if this was a common issue among aspecs

#aroace #aro writers #Ace writers #asexual #aromantic #lgbtq writing #LGBTQ writers #Writing #writer stuff #writeblr #writerscommunity #aspec

[arotechno]

O. basilicum, part i

These woods were like a second home to Hank. Or a third, if you counted the first home he’d left more than twenty years ago. But that was a different time, in another life, many kingdoms away.

In some parts of the continent, the trees grew hundreds of feet tall, with lofty green branches that stretched all the way to the heavens. If you climbed to the very top of one, you could see the way the land curved—that was how scholars proved the world was a sphere, or so Hank’s teachers used to say. In others, the woods gave way to towering mountains that dwarfed the tallest trees, or sprawling plains that embraced the horizon in every direction. And beyond that, still, lay the sea, and beyond that, Hank supposed he didn’t know.

Here, the forest floor was thick with underbrush, with stout oak trees and maples that produced the sweetest sap Hank had ever tasted. Here, berries grew in the summer and root vegetables in the fall. Here, people didn’t care so much what shape the world was in, or where the ocean was, let alone what lay beyond it. Here, people were much more concerned with how people treated one another, or where their next meal was coming from, or whether their roof would hold under snowfall in the coming winter.

These days, well, Hank thought that was just fine by him.

Hank knew the woods surrounding his village inside and out. He knew every beaten path, for he himself had been the one tamping down the earth under his boots for all these years. He knew every tree, every flowering bush, every tiny stream that overflowed with heavy rains. Every good hunter had to, Hank figured. You had to know where the best places to hunt were, where the deer and rabbits would roam in search of food. He knew every species of snake, and the call of every bird. To a point, Hank figured he must have seen everything.

Today, he experienced something wholly alien to him. Today, Hank found something in these woods he’d never encountered before in all his years. It was a child.

He couldn’t have been more than nine or ten years old, all knobby knees and scrawny in the hips like he hadn’t eaten in days. The brush seemed to grow up around him where he sat against an oak tree, as if he were part of the ground itself. His tan skin was mottled with scrapes and cuts, and his dark hair looked like a robin had made a nest in it. The boy’s glassy eyes stared forward sightlessly, gaunt face smeared with dirt and grime. Whatever had happened to him, his left leg had seen the worst of it—it was swollen at the knee, and covered in an unsightly array of bruises.

Hank was well acquainted with necrosis, and he was pretty sure this kid was dead. He knelt down and reached to check for a pulse, and sure enough, found nothing.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath. “Poor kid.”

Suddenly, the boy flinched away and yelped like an unfortunate rabbit caught in the maw of a hungry fox.

“Shit!” Hank scrambled back. “He’s still alive!”

“Hank? Was that you?” Ann’s voice called from afar.

“Ann! Get over here, quick!” Hank shouted. The kid hadn’t moved again or made another sound, and his eyes still stared lifelessly. No pulse, but still breathing. Hank’s own breath caught in his throat.

“What’s wrong? What is it?”

“It’s a kid.”

Ann crashed through the treeline into the small clearing where Hank knelt before the boy’s motionless taxidermied form. She skidded to a halt behind him, curly hair escaping its braid.

“What?”

“I said it’s a kid,” Hank repeated, scooting aside. “See for yourself. I damn near shot him.”

Ann crouched beside Hank, eyebrows knitted together. “Shit,” she muttered with bewilderment. “Is he alive?”

“As alive as you or I am. Here, take this.” With ease, Hank took off his bow and passed it to Ann, who took it reluctantly. Her eyes drifted to the child still slumped motionless against the oak, and lit up faintly with recognition.

“I see,” she said softly. “Hank, you really think it’s a good idea to move him in this state?”

“He’ll die if we don’t,” Hank said. He hoisted the boy onto his back, ignoring—with great effort—the way he made a valiant effort to scream in terror with whatever strength was left in his tiny body. With Ann by his side, Hank set off toward home, without any meat for the townsfolk—but bearing a prize greater than anything that lay beyond even the most distant sea.

#:) workin on somethin #aro writing #aro writers #long post #op #o basilicum #the heartless #(spoiler alert! lol)

[toribookworm22]

Hello, you are a cool person and I have just discovered your blog!

Great to see more aro writers in the universe.

May words come easy to you today

That is all, have a good day!

Hello, new lovely buddy!!

This literally just made my day, so thank you! And I am happy to meet other aro (and queer in general) writers as well! I am sending you the warmest of regards and the bestest of wishes!

~ toribookworm ❤️

#sweet asks #❤️ #new friend acquired!! #my happy little family of buddies #writeblr #writers of tumblr #queer writers #aro writers

[gender-luster]

hey writers- if you're ever working on a story, and you hear a voice telling you to make all your characters aromantic, or polyamorous, or maybe even both, that's an angel talking. and you should listen

#aro #aromantic #polyamourous #polyam #writers on tumblr #fanfic

[cherrytea556]

Being an aromantic writer is frustrating because you want to show aromantic people but you know damn well people would misinterpret their relationships as romantic and ship them, ignoring the orientation of them for aromantics like you to finally get more recognised within in or out of the community. It really says something that I know I have to be explicitly clear that these characters are aromantic and I don't want them shipped for people to even slightly get the message across.

#aro #aromantic #writer #writer struggles #aromantic struggles #aro struggles #the aro writer struggle is real

[mrsfrecklesmarauders]

No, love. Not every single character has to have a romantic partner to be interesting. It is okay for characters to end up alone. Or not have romantic experiences at all. No matter their sexuality. Aromantic and Asexual characters can exist and be a good representation of the queer community. Not only gay couples represent queer struggle.

That's all. Thanks.

#this is important for Fandoms and fanfic writers #Not only the Marauders Fandom #All of them #I really want Aromantic and Asexual representation in fandom #Aromantic #Asexual #Aroace #Aromantisisim #Asexuality #Amanormativity #Fandoms #Fanfiction #Writing #Characters #ace #aro

[drchucktingle]

do you have any tingler suggestions for an asexual and aromantic buckaroo?

YES BUD all preferred pounds are valid including NO POUND AT ALL and this is very important, as i am sure my aromantic and asexual buds know.

as a buckaroo who spends a lot of time fighting against gatekeeping i will use this as opportunity to say yet again ALL ARE WELCOME IN THE TINGLEVERSE ESPECIALLY MY ACE AND ARO BUCKAROOS.

in fact, after chucks upcoming horror novel CAMP DAMASCUS i have another horror novel coming out next year from same publisher called BURY YOUR GAYS (i am being secret about plot of for now but trust me tumblr buds will like this one) but one of the MAIN LEADS of 'bury your gays' is an asexual aromantic bud and she is such a fun character REALLY enjoyed writing her and i am excited for everyone to meet her.

ALRIGHT as far as tinglers go i have written MANY pound free books that you can enjoy, some are about an ace or aro way and some are about consent or saying NO THANKS BUD but they all do not have sex in them. the favorite of most buckaroos is probably ABSOLUTELY NO THOUGHTS OF POUNDING DURING MY FUN DAY WITH THIS KIND T-REX BECAUSE I'M AROMANTIC AND ASEXUAL AND THAT'S A WONDERFULLY VALID WAY OF PROVING LOVE IS REAL

if you are interested in whole collections there are paperbacks name of NOT POUNDED BY ANYTHING that you would probably enjoy. this series has three whole volumes just keep in mind not all characters in these bundle are ace and aro but MANY are. others just dont feel like a pound.

examples of stories that are more about consent and importance of HOLDING BOUNDARIES would be something like JUST KIND OF IGNORING THIS SAD LONESOME T-REX WHO IS SCREAMING "DEBATE ME" FROM HIS FOLDING CHAIR which is about how sometimes best way to deal with goofball conservative 'commentators' is just ignore their scoundrel whining as they moan their lonesome ways in the dark. so there are no pounds in that one just ignores. it is available as audiobook and so is ace aro story above too.

anyway buckaroo hope that helps. if you want to see full list you can look on chuck website and trot down to section of tinglers that says NO SEX

thank you for proving love is real in your own way i am SO GLAD our timelines have crossed it is an honor and i appreciate it very much. had fun time revisiting these books today and look forward to writing more for my asexual and aromantic buds. LOVE IS REAL

#ace #aro #asexual #aromantic #tingleverse #LGBTQIA #love is real #chuck tingle #no pound #no sex #pound free #tinglers #writers of tumblr #writing

[bloggingboutburgers]

...Maybe queerbaiting can only ever mean homobaiting or transspecbaiting

Idk don't kill me those are just cans of worms

#no one can know i don't like sex #queerbaiting #asexual #aromantic #aroace #not 100% a hot take but i doubt aro ace bait actually exists tbh #because i don't think writers and audiences care about aro or ace people enough to even think of writing them as bait #it's in THAT sad a state #my art #nonburger

[darubyprincx]

[Image ID:

A box with words in it colored in the stripes of the aroace flag. Around it are small hearts colored in arospec and aspec flags. The text inside of the box reads, in all caps, "You say I am incapable of love, but you know not of the love of which you speak". The background is black.

/End ID.]

#ray's tag #aromantic #asexual #aro #ace #aroace #arospec #acespec #aspec #keys' art #hi! i am a writer first and artist second but i wanted to make and share this #i made it very quickly and i am aware of how messy it is but i'm not a graphic designer i just wanted to say that all yall are cool #lets fuck it up aspecs <3 #(unless you prefer not to do that which. Makes sense comma)

[danothan]

Just reading some comics and saw a panel I thought you might like. :)

ah fuck, characters reminiscing always get to me ;__;

but i will never ever get over that fond way these two talk to and abt each other. especially when they’re poking fun, you can just hear the love in their voice it’s SICK.

the halbarry love language is annoying each other, but even more than that, it’s being each other’s exceptions

#panels #sent to me #halbarry #hal jordan #green lantern #barry allen #the flash #dc #danswers #the halbarry love language/exceptions thing btw is a whole thesis i have in my brain #their love language incompatibilities; their willingness to compromise and make it work; the way they’ve never had a friend like this #hal esp is almost like a completely different person around barry. like he’s still Hal ofc but it’s obvious that he’s never navigated a #relationship like this before. yes i’m talking abt ‘what do you guys see in each other?’ / ‘yk… i have no idea! ☺️’ #hal is so aro-coded for someone i don’t hc as aromantic. and that’s only bc barry came along (another whole thesis o’ mine…) #god literally the rare exceptions to each other #been thinking abt writing a halbarry fic abt their love languages (5 chapters 1 love language for each) #not rly sure what that’d even be abt but i do think abt this often so maybe writing smith would help me process/explore/share my analysis + #interpretations of how that works between them #idk i’m not a writer we’ll just have to see

[arotechno]

O. basilicum, part iii

Frida’s house had a spare back room that she converted into a bedroom for him, and the townsfolk showed up in droves with gifts for Basil: clothes from older children in the village who’d outgrown them, bedding, books. He kept the quilt Frida had given him on his first day, and soon the small room began to feel lived in—but lived in by someone else, and not Basil, who was only passing through.

He’d been outfitted with a pair of wooden crutches, given to him by a short man named Garth down the road who’d once broken his foot and had modified them to fit Basil’s tinier stature. As a result, Frida had eventually, after a few weeks of being carefully tended to like a piece of glass, given him the clear to wander around Verdigris on his own, provided that he stay out of trouble and always be home for meals.

Verdigris was different from Swallow’s Point. It was smaller, for one; Frida’s house and adjoining clinic sat on a hill at the end of the road, and from the front porch one could see most of the village spread out below. There was a town square where gatherings were held, and a large community garden that helped to feed the townspeople. Hunters like Hank and Ann provided meat to those who needed it, and others would do what they could in return. It was just the way things were done—people worked together to get by, because what other choice did they have?

It was foreign to Basil, who roamed the dirt roads at a snail’s pace like a stranger, sometimes inclined to look over his shoulder for a danger that was never there. Swallow’s Point had been a quaint little town, and for the most part Basil had lived a pleasant childhood. His parents kept him safe the only way they knew how, and he had a roof over his head and plenty to eat and friends his age to play with. But it was always with the understanding that all of those good things were conditional, and could be taken away if he slipped up in front of the wrong person.

In the end, that was what had happened.

“Hey, that used to be my sweater!” a voice called from behind. Basil stumbled, barely catching himself on his crutches and carefully turning himself around. Across the road, back from where Basil had come, an older boy of about fifteen was waving to him with a hammer, perched on a nearby rooftop. Basil recognized him. His name was Jim, and though he was Heartless himself, his mother and older sister were not—they had moved here with him as a toddler to keep him safe.

Basil looked down at his green knit sweater. It hung a bit loose on him; days on the run with little to eat had made him scrawny.

“I don’t suppose you want it back?” he called.

Jim chuckled. He had a boisterous, snorting laugh.

“No, I’m about a foot too tall for that old thing. It suits you, kid. How are Garth’s old crutches working out for you?”

“Fine,” Basil said.

“You don’t talk much, do you.”

Basil scowled. Though he knew he had no reason to be, Basil was wary of the other kids in town. There weren’t many of them, only a few other than he and Jim. Most had lived in Verdigris for most of their lives.

“Jim!” a voice shouted from inside the house. “Are you bothering that new boy?”

“I’m not, Ma!” Jim yelled back.

“You had better not be,” Jim’s mother called. “You’re supposed to be fixing that roof.”

“I am, Ma!” Jim rolled his eyes, then winked down at Basil. He explained, “My mother wants this roof patched up before winter and she’s already on my case about it. You know how mothers are.”

Basil said nothing. Jim gave him an odd look, then shrugged and went back to hammering. Unsure what to do, Basil stood there for a few more moments in silence before hobbling back toward Frida’s house. He’d had enough of the town for one day, and besides, Frida would soon be expecting him home for lunch.

**

Time passed, and winter fell on Verdigris. The trees went bare and the grass wilted and turned brown. A blanket of pure white snow draped itself over the hills and rooftops, and the sky was dyed a permanent shade of gray.

Most importantly, Basil found he couldn’t really walk anymore.

Frida had explained to him that because he had been walking on it for so long before she’d been able to treat his injuries, his leg hadn’t fully healed correctly. It was better, and could bear weight—but it was stiff and painful to walk on, and the cold weather made it worse. Now, he couldn’t do much more than move around the house without losing his balance, and hobbling on crutches in the ice and snow was out of the question.

With Basil being essentially housebound for the time being, Frida did her best to keep him busy by giving him books to study, and teaching him how to mix basic herbal supplements to help with common ailments. Basil found that he liked the work, and he liked Frida. She was kind to him, and didn’t push him to talk about the things that had happened to him. But for Basil, who had spent most of his childhood running about outside, being cooped in the house all winter made him grouchy and restless like a caged animal.

And so it was that when Hank came to the door one day, stomping snow off his big boots in the entryway, and told him he had something to show him, Basil agreed immediately.

“Hold on, now,” Frida said, crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s this about, Hank?”

“I want to take him up to the Ridge,” Hank said.

“That’s nearly an hour’s walk!”

“I’ll carry him on my back.” He smiled down at Basil in his kitchen chair. “That alright with you, kid?”

Basil looked to Frida with a pleading expression. “Please?”

Frida sighed. “Alright. But you be careful!”

“I’ll bring him back in one piece, Frida,” Hank said. “You know I will.”

They bundled Basil up from head to toe—boots, a thick wool cloak (an old one of Ann’s that had been hemmed to fit but was still much too long), and a knit hat, scarf, and mittens. Then Hank hoisted him onto his back and they bid the house farewell, Frida watching like a hawk through the kitchen window until they were out of sight.

The town was hushed, as if slumbering. Hank’s boots crunching in the snow made the only sound. It was peaceful, serene. Basil found he liked it. Snowy days back in Swallow’s Point had been chaos, racing to see who could build the best fort or shoving snow down each other’s coats. Basil’s parents had always called him talkative, but these days he was content to say nothing, and Hank didn’t ask him to. He liked that about him.

There was a lot to like about Hank. Hank knew a lot about a lot of things. He had visited often while Basil was initially recovering, and told him all about the different trees in the forest, and pointed out plants in Frida’s books of medicinal herbs that he recognized from his travels.

“You alright back there?” Hank asked after a while. He’d taken them into the woods east of town, where the tree cover was sparser than in the area where he and Ann typically hunted. They were climbing uphill, now, but Hank didn’t seem to be struggling.

Basil hummed in confirmation.

“You know, kid, I don’t think I ought to be able to carry a ten-year-old all this way. You really are scrawny.”

“No, you’re just strong,” Basil said, scowling.

Hank bellowed a laugh. His chest shook with the motion. “So I am,” he conceded. “But I don’t mean anything by it. You stay with Frida long enough and I’m sure she’ll have you getting big and strong in no time.”

Basil didn’t say anything.

“Do you… have someplace to go back to? Family waiting for you somewhere?” Hank shifted Basil’s weight on his back, stepping over an exposed tree root. “Some time, maybe when you are bigger and stronger, I can take you anywhere it is you want to go. I don’t mean to make it seem like you’ve gotta stay here if you don’t want to.”

“I have a family,” Basil said softly. “But I don’t know if I can go back to them.”

Hank didn’t respond right away, so Basil thought he must not have heard him. But then, Hank sighed.

“Basil, you’re from Amistadia, aren’t you.”

Basil’s stomach lurched. He clenched his fists in the shoulders of Hank’s coat. Maybe he’d make him go back. Maybe that’s where Hank was taking him now. But, no, they’d gone the opposite direction, hadn’t they? Hank would never—

“Hey, you’re alright,” Hank said gently. “You’re okay. Don’t worry, I had an inkling that was the case the day I found you. Proximity aside, few places are so brutal. Other places, they may treat you something terrible. But that? To a child? Shit. Jim’s family, they’re from Amistadia. He doesn’t remember because he was a baby, but that’s why they left.”

Basil loosened his grip. “Have you been there?”

“No, ‘course not. I haven’t left Verdigris in twenty years. I didn’t come all this way to make a new life for myself just to risk giving it up.”

“But you said you’d take me anywhere.”

“I would,” Hank said. “You’re worth the risk. Now, see here, look.” He pointed ahead to a break in the treeline. There, Basil could see where the gray sky met the snowy horizon in a sea of white. Before they quite reached that distant point, Hank turned to face the way they’d come.

“This,” he said, gesturing out over the hillside, “is the Ridge.”

Basil gasped. From this vantage point, he could see out over all of Verdigris, past the edge of the woods and beyond. If he squinted, he could even see Amistadia, the pointy spire of King Brutus’ extravagant central palace peeking out over the distant treeline. He’d never imagined he’d ever get to see it, as much as he’d pretended at delusions of grandeur—he certainly had never thought he might see it from this distance.

Somewhere that way lay a home he’d likely never see again, either. Maybe Ace was still out there. Maybe he wasn’t. As long as he was safe, that was all Basil cared about.

“Impressive? Well, that’s not even what I wanted to show you.”

Hank turned around, and Basil’s breath caught in his throat. On this side, facing eastward, Basil could now see out to that faraway point on the horizon where the blank sky seemed to stretch to infinity. In the snow-dappled valley below, distant homes and villages dotted the pristine white landscape, down through the hillside and all the way out to a frozen lake shimmering in the distance like a pretty polished stone.

Basil drummed his palms against Hank’s shoulders, wanting to be put down. Hank carefully lowered him to the ground, and Basil gripped onto his cloak for balance.

“Easy there,” Hank warned, holding him back by the shoulder. “If you get hurt, Frida will have my hide.”

“It’s amazing,” Basil whispered, a huge grin splitting his face. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled like that—the muscles in his face almost felt stiff at the motion. Above him, Hank chuckled in what almost seemed like fond surprise.

“There’s a whole, great big world out there, Basil,” Hank said softly, squeezing his shoulder. “It’s not all so dark as the one that you have known.”

They stood there for a few minutes in silence, staring out over the Ridge. Basil thought it almost mystical—like if he stood there long enough, watching, that milky horizon might just swallow him up, taking the shining pearl lake with it in one big, terrestrial gulp.

Maybe Hank was right. Maybe this whole thing was far bigger than him, bigger than he’d ever imagined.

Hank picked him back up and turned away from that horizon.

“Let’s get you back to Frida,” he said. “It’s too damn cold.”

#god this took me DAYS i've been so so busy #was unsure about including the first part in this chapter but it needed to be in here for reasons #and it didn't work as its own individual chapter #so alas #aro writing #aro writers #o basilicum #the heartless #writing #long post #op

[https-hunter]

aromanticism be damned my girl can write the sweetest, most earth-shattering romantic fics

#it's me. i'm my girl #i did have to look up tips on writing kissing once #i just think it's funny that i'll write so much tooth-rotting fluff and i actually don't know how irl romance works #aromantic #aromanticism #aro #arospec #aspec #writer #writing #writeblr

[hussyknee]

Why is it that ace representation never involves an ace that enthusiastically writes, reads and watches erotica, porn and kink, gets palpitations over hot people doing sexy things, but runs the fuck away at the mere suggestion of sex that requires themselves to actually participate in any context or capacity?

There's so many variants of asexuality but all I ever see are aces that are simply flatly disinterested in sex of any kind and aromantic to boot, so they never have to undergo the most common ace struggle of wanting a relationship desperately but almost giving up on one because everyone seems to want sex. No shade to aro aces but I think aromantics also deserve more than being eternally associated with asexuality.

#ace representation #there's a lot of ways one can be sex repulsed #i also feel like writers make aces seem very bland or perpetually level headed like we're better adjusted wo the sex cravings #which is very problematic and feels rather dehumanizing #please let us be disasters too #aro representation #asexuality #aromantism #knee of huss

[liquid-queer]

You write sad aro or ace spec people because you think that’s how all of us end up, I write sad aro or ace spec people because I turning characters dead and also like to make them like me

#lgbt #aromantic #lgbtq #asexual #aroace #aro #lgbtqia #lgbtqia+ #ao3 writer #ao3 #writers #writers on tumblr #ace #aspec #arospec

[ze-writing-qprs]

Alastor x GN!Reader - 2

Headcanons [🩷QPR]

PART I

Alastor and Reader are aroace

Queer-platonic Relationship (do NOT read as romantic)

Fluffy n cute

Nothing is meant to sound or be s*xual (I am aroace and some stuff I say comes off that when I don't mean for it too)

Considering making a part 3

TW: Mention of cannibalism

PART 2

Alastor cooks for you

He listens to the radio while he does (I mean he is the radio demon-)

Has offered to let you try venison (raw) and demon (also raw)

You both give each other song recommendations (I like to think he enjoys most genres of music)

Dancing in the evenings as sunset peeks through the windows

He taught you a lot of dances (If you know how to dance, you taught him some as well)

Will sing to the songs he knows while you dance together

If you ask he might sing you to sleep

Has asked before if he could take a bite of your flesh (Again, he is a cannibal. But he respects you)

You take walks together

You try to find decent cafès or hole-in-the-wall restaurants to go to, this is usually difficult and most of the time you end up taking him to somewhere in cannibal town

He loves when you discuss music with him

You bash on Susan together

Alastor hates when you mention the “box faced man” that “seems to have a homoerotic crush on him” (your words, not his)

He gets all quiet and won’t look you in the eye when he is mad

He tries to distance himself and you take that as a sign to give him space to cool down

If he is just annoyed he will roll his eyes

But for you though, he doesn't seem to take the hint when you get annoyed or mad

This may cause you to give him the silent treatment (He understands at that point)

It’s a little unhealthy

You’ll learn to communicate better (he just might be a little.. difficult at times)

Like a true gentleman he will give your hand a kiss as a greeting

You both give each other forehead kisses

I like to think that he will just hold your hands randomly and play with your fingers

It’s cute

If you make him flustered he will lay his ears against his head

If you want to and play your cards right, he might let you cuddle together

You guys are cute.

#alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #x reader #alastor x reader #alastor x gn!reader #gn!reader #gn reader #hazbin #aro #ace #aroace #asexual #aromantic #aromantic writer #asexual writer #aroace writer #aroace writing #queer platonic relationship #qpr #qpr alastor #alastor x reader qpr #suffer allos #please do not the cat (alastor) #writing #alastor fics #fanfiction #headcanons #alastor headcanons #alastor hazbin hotel headcanons

[feliniakattus]

happy belated aro week from Pigeon!

I had bigger things planned but time slipped away from me 😔

i’m aro and it’s really important to me that we get our time to shine :3

#xenofiction #original work #worldbuilding #fantasy world #fantasy writing #xenomoggy #xenomog #my art #original art #felinia: pigeon #aromantic #aro #aromantic week #aromantic writer #felinia: bonus art