#... i also had to go buy new sketchbooks and pens

[captainshadowshifter]

damn bro of all the parts of slbu I could fixate on now that I've been able to write again it just HAD to be the darkest one that ALSO happens to be the best fucking commentary on reality

[irishmammonagenda]

How I Think The Obey Me Dateables + Co Would React to The Rumours™️

Summary: Rumours have been floating around the Devildom. Rumours about a certain Angel and Sorcerer...how will the demon brothers react? Word Count: funny joke! Content Warnings: nothing i dont think Disclaimer: This will probably not make a lot of sense unless you've read this fic here for context, but ykw life doesnt make sense you do you <3

[Brothers Version]

dividers by @cafekitsune

You had left the Sorcerers' Society feeling quite flustered, but also extremely pleased with yourself. Take that Solomon. You grin. In all the excitement of the following days, you'd forgotten about the rumour you had accidentally spread around the Devildom. Perhaps you shouldn't've pretended to be Archangel Michael to gain entry....

💙💚BARBATOS💚💙

Finds out about the rumours relatively quickly, Little D No.2 sees him nearly dropping a plate before catching it with his tail. He was sworn to secrecy.

Poor Little D No.2

His first thought is shock, his second thought is.

'What did you do MC?'

smiling he dials your number on his DDD.

You were in the middle of doing homework, or rather, sitting at your desk staring at your homework when Barbatos called. "Hiya Barbs!" You grin into your DDD. "Hello MC." You can hear the Butler's smile through the phone. "What's got you calling Barbie?" "There have been some rumours of a certian bastard sorcerer and Archangel in a romantic relationship...you wouldn't happen to know anything of it?" You laugh. "My assassination attempt went wrong." Barbatos lets out a small chuckle along with you. "I can't say Solomon doesn't deserve it." You pause. "Barbs?" "Yes, MC?" "Would you maybe wanna...go to the next Devildom Carnival with me?" You mumble into the phone, but he catches it. Thankfully, he was feeling nice, and did not teasingly ask you to repeat it. "Of course I would MC," Barbatos tone softens, smile visible in his voice. "Perhaps you can tell me more of this assassination attempt going aray?" "It'd be my pleasure Barbie."

❤️❤️DIAVOLO❤️❤️

Barbatos tells him.

Remember the sticker incident? Yeah. Diavolo laughs when he hears about it

This could be a great help in uniting the 3 realms!!!

And hey, if someone commissions Asmo to make stickers of Michael x Solomon, dont look at Diavolo who is very suspiciously whistling innocently.

"Hi Asmo!" Lord Diavolo steps out from the shadows. Asmodeus shrieks, loosing all colour in his face before gaining it back again and grinning excitedly." Diavolo! What are you doing in my room?~" Diavolo shooshes him, pale golden eyes widening as he looks around the Avatar of Lust's room. "Not so loud." After deeming it safe enough, the Demon Prince continues, "I snuck away from Barbatos" Asmo makes a noise of understanding, he looks up at the other through foxlike eyes. "So what can I do for you Dia? ~" The Prince smiles ear to ear. "Remember the stickers you made of me and Lucifer. Well, I'd like to commission something." Asmodeus gasps excitedly, moving a stray champagne coloured lock from his forehead, he grabs his bejeweled pen and journal. "Of course! We can discuss pricing later on! First things first! What would you like?~" "Well..." Diavolo lets out a booming laugh, "Maybe something quite similar to the stickers of me and Lucifer, except with Michael and Solomon?" Asmodeus sets his pen and sketchbook down, looking up at the Devildom's present goofball and future ruler. "Y'know what, Diavolo?" He smirks mischievously. "It's on the house." Diavolo pouts, "At least let me buy you Majolish's new line of clothes." "Awww!~ If I had a ring that I didn't want to keep for myself I'd propose to you!~" Diavolo laughs. These stickers were going to be amazing.

🩷🩷THIRTEEN 🩷🩷

Haha L Solomon

Knows it's fake from the moment she hears it.

Upset she didn't think to start it....but when she finds out from Satan you had a hand in it?

Damn bbg she's about to have your hand in marriage😏

You were just trying to walk home from RAD, having finally gotten a moment of peace from your idiots when an extremely loud 'VROOOM' startles you. A black motorcycle with pink accents traverses the streets of the Devildom like it's attempting to audition for Fast and Furious, before going rogue and coming straight towards you. Scared, you start to sprint, alas, even as an angel,you can't outrun motorcycles. You don't wanna die! The mystery rider drives beside your sprinting, catching up to you before reaching their leather gloved hands out and; YOINK! The motorcyclist pulls you flush against their chest, holding you there with one arm as they use the other to steer. You've been kidnapped by a motorcyclist who thinks they're in GTA. Great. Being kidnapped by a crazed motorcyclist before GTA 6....actually, maybe this was GTA 6. "As much as I'd love to hear your screams in a different context MC, can you stop screaming?" A voice asks through the Motorcycle helmet, you immediately stop squirming to get out of the Motorcyclist's arms. "Thirteen?!" She laughs, "Awww, I love it when you say my name!" You drive in relative silence for a while until she reaches a small cafe. She stops the bike and takes her helmet off, her long ombre hair is tied in a ponytail, she takes out the bauble and lets it fall down. Bloodied emerald eyes lock onto yours as she pulls you in for a kiss. "What's this about you dying and not giving me your soul...." She says in mock sadness before jumping off of the motorcycle, helping a dazed you to your feet. "No bother!" She flirts, tucking a stray hair away from your face, "You can just give me your soul, and your heart, and your body, and your mind!" You blush. "W-why are you in the Devildom Tee?" "Well a certain someone-" She pinches your cheek, "made up a fabulous rumour about that Rat-Bastard! So I'm here to give them a lovely little dinner date and my hand in marriage as a reward!" "Excuse me? Could you repeat that?!" You ask, heart racing. Thirteen just laughs and gives you a kiss that leaves you breathless, a soft blush of her own showing up on her porcelain skin. You walked out of your impromptu unofficial kidnapping dinner date a married MC. Time to go to Vegas to make it official!

💜💜MEPHISTOPHELES💜💜

The man found out because you told him.

He is not impressed. Couldn't you have made up a rumour about Lucifer dating someone?!

No MC, this is a serious newspaper! He is not posting gossip. Or advertising fanfictions. Especially ones with a name like that!

What do you mean Lord Diavolo would 'want you to do it, Mephisto!!' are you trying to emotionally blackmail him?!

"Pleaseeeee!" "No." You try again. "Mephisto pleaseeeeeee?" He gives you a rather rude look. Damn, rich people really were good at looking at people like they were dirt on their shoes. "I won't ask for anything ever again!" "You will, and the answer is still no MC." He glares at you. Pear green eyes filled with annoyance. "The RAD newspaper is sacred! I'm not posting fanfiction on there! We are a serious organisation!" "You post popularity polls." You deadpan. "This is why I hate rich people." "Let me go wipe my tears with my various stacks of grimm lying around. Speaking of which, how did you get into my house, MC?" You grin sheepishly. "No comment!" "MC." "Your little brother let me in! He's very nice, unlike you! Now please I'm begging you!" Mephisto raises an eyebrow. "You don't look like you're begging." "I'm not getting down on my knees. I'm going to piss in your cereal." Mephistopheles scoffs. "I don't eat cereal. That's poor people behaviour." You sniffle, deciding that the best course of action would be to annoy him. "You know, you're acting like Lucifer right now! Not letting me post this in the Newspaper." Mephisto waggles his finger at you, "Send me a Devilmail of what you want included later." "Yay!" You cheer. Satan was going to be so happy when he found out you managed to get your fanfic mentioned in the RAD Newspaper!

🩵🩵SIMEON 🩵🩵

He finds out after you print out the published parts of the fanfiction you and Satan wrote.

He's an author after all! What better person to get constructive criticism from?!

Someone please save this poor man.

Solomon looked up at Michael with dull eyes devoid of emotion, just previously they had shone with tears, now they were just dead. A graveyard of feeling. "Take it back Michael." The sorcerer mutters, but Michael heard him clearly. "What you said about Humankind...take it back!" "It's the truth Solomon!" Michael raises his voice, the rain dropping like bullets against the windows of Cocytus Hall. "I can't do this anymore!" Solomon blurts out, before turning on his heel, cape flapping, as he runs out of the door, into the storm outside, his arms cover tear-stricken his face. "Solomon wait!" Michael races out after him braving the- "MC..." Simeon looks up at you, he takes his reading glasses off and gently sets the paper down, attempting to avoid looking at anything else written on it. "MC, what is this?" "Art." You nod seriously. "It is good writing MC, but, why?" "Why not?" You tilt your head. "With all the love in my heart, darling, I'm forcing myself to forget this story's existence." You pat Simeon's back. "That's probably for the best Simmy."

🤎🤎RAPHAEL 🤎🤎

Solomon? Michael was going out with Solomon?

This worked out great for him actually, this meant he could eat Solomon's food more often. How delicious!

Disappointed when he finds out the rumours aren't true.

"Raphael for the last time, do I look like the type of person that would date Solomon?!" Michael says exasperatedly, covering his face with his hands and fake sobbing. Drama king. "You are a bit odd. Are you sure you're not dating him? I won't judge you, Michael, I respect you a lot." Raphael nods seriously. "I am not dating Solomon." Raphael pouts, "I see. Have you considered dating Solomon?" Michael grabs a pillow and screams into it.

🖤🖤SOLOMON🖤🖤

Finds out through Asmo

Is that a fanficiton, MC?

Two can play at this game.

You enter your room when you feel a hand go over your mouth. You attempt to scream, but seeing as there's a hand over your mouth, it doesn't exactly go very well for you. "Relax Mc, It's just me." You turn your head around to see Solomon and that signature sneaky smile on his face. You scream louder. He chuckles and mutters a few words, all of a sudden you feel very sleepy.... Hours later, you wake up on your bed, now around 3 feet tall and with familiar pink wool, your hands and feet are now hooves, beside you Solomon had been oh so kind as to leave you a note. Cant write Fanfiction if you don't have hands. Jokes on him. You're a co-author.

🩵🤍LUKE🤍🩵

hears some demons talking about it at RAD while he´s in Devildom history

Michael are Solomon are DATING??!!!

LIKE THE THING PEOPLE DO BEFORE THEY GET MARRIED??!!

Michael and Solomon are getting MARRIED??!!

Is Solomon his dad now?

Luckily for Luke and Unluckily for Michael, Michael is still in the Devildom, so when Luke gets home, he goes to ask Michael about it.

Sounds of sizzling and chopping can be heard from the kitchen in Purgatory Hall, and thankfully, it's not Solomon. Michael hums as he expertly dices the onions up and puts them into the blender with the tomatoes, broccoli and cauliflower. His long golden hair had been haphazardly thrown into a plait, small curls that didn't feel like conforming popping out here and there, sauce stains found themselves a home on his dark skin, he stuck his tongue out in concentration. Frozen meatballs had been left out to thaw, and now the Archangel was making the vegetables in the sauce so they'd undetectable to a certain fussy young angel. "Michael?" The young angel in question calls out in the doorway resulting in Michael exclaiming something that sounded like 'GAH!' and attempting to hide Luke's view of the blender. "Hiya Lukey!" Michael grins awkwardly. "What's up with you today? Haha." Now long used to Michael's strangeness, Luke pays it no mind. "Michael, I have a question." The archangel turns the various pans on the stove to the lowest heat before sitting on a stool on the kitchen island and pulling Luke up to sit on his knee. "What's up Kiddo?" He grins, tilting his head at the boy. Luke fiddles with his thumbs, his blue eyes meeting Michael's red ones. "Is it true you and Solomon are getting married?" Michael's smile drops. He pats Luke's blond hair, "No Lukey, me and Solomon are not getting married, nor are we in a relationship." Luke's face flushes, he clenches his tiny fists. "Those demons! Making up lies!" Michael shakes the image of you from his mind. "Yeah. Demons. Yup!"

lads im gonna be honest here i havent met mephsitles or hwoever u spell it a lot in game (as well as thirteen and raphael) so apologies if theyre really ooc😰

[half-oz-eddie]

Tommy has a journal (?)

(Read below, or on Ao3)

When Buck starts staying at Tommy's more often, he's given free access to move a few things around and make himself at home. While Buck is making himself some room in a bottom drawer, he finds out that Tommy has a journal.

It's a seemingly old book with a blue hard cover and elastic closure.

Buck really wants to know what's inside. Not because he's nosy, (partly because he's nosy) but mostly because he wants to know what Tommy uses it for. Knowing his boyfriend is also into journaling is exciting new knowledge for him. What is he logging in his book? Does he write his thoughts and feelings, affirmations? Does he use it took keep himself organized?

Buck told himself it may be too intrusive to ask, but he wants to know.

One night, when he stays over, he leaves the room to spy on Tommy, and see if he will take out the journal and write in it. He planned to waltz right in and curiously ask "what're you writing?" so he could learn what Tommy uses his journal for.

He just had to know, it was all he could think about.

For an entire week, he'd sneak off and leave Tommy alone to see if he'd grab the journal, but he didn't.

Buck began to assume that maybe Tommy didn't like to use the journal when he came over.

He told the 118 about his silly little predicament.

"Why don't you just ask him what he uses it for?" Hen wondered.

"Because that's too invasive!"

"So you'd rather spy on him when he's possibly writing down his most intimate thoughts?" Eddie chimed in.

"I'm not trying to spy! I don't actually want to see in the journal. I just want to know what sort of journaling guy he is. Maybe we can go shopping for new books and supplies together!"

"So...just invite him to do that and see what kind of things he wants to buy." Chimney proposed.

Buck nodded. "Yeah! That's a great idea!"

So, Buck takes Chimney's advice and invites Tommy to Michael's with him. Buck shows Tommy some journals, stickers and stamp pads, but Tommy doesn't seem very interested in them.

He does buy some gel pens, though.

Buck considers that a clue. Maybe Tommy uses the pens for color coded writing. He's going to ask him about it in the car.

"So, gel pens, huh? You bought that multicolor pack. Tha-that's pretty cool."

"Yeah, I figured I could take some, and you could take some. They're retractable and great for jotting things down."

"Oh, definitely. D-do you know which colors you want?"

"Eh, I don't think it really matters." Tommy shrugged, eyes remaining focused on the road. "I'll just switch between colors when the other runs out of ink."

Buck nodded. He still wasn't getting anything juicy about Tommy's journaling habits. Maybe Tommy didn't have any. Or maybe he was a "go-with-the-flow" type of guy.

Buck decided to kick it up a notch. "So..." He began as they walked in the door. "I was thinking we order a pizza and maybe we could have some uh...some journaling time together?"

"Journaling time?" Tommy raised a brow.

"Yeah! I-I'll break out my new journal and you can get yours. We-we can just...have some quiet time and write in our journals together."

Tommy snickered. "Evan, I don't have a journal."

"Y-you don't? B-but I found that journal in your bottom drawer and I thought..."

"Oh, that." Tommy disappeared into the bedroom and returned with the book and handed it to Buck.

Buck excitedly opened the book, frowning at the blank pages.

"I don't exactly...like journaling, so I never used it. My therapist suggested it a few years ago but it didn't work for me. I prefer doodling."

Buck's eyes lit up once more. "Do you have a sketch book?"

"Nope. I just...doodle on napkins or scraps of paper and then throw them away."

"Throw th—" Buck scoffed. "Throw them away?! Tommy, get back in the car."

"What? Why?"

"We're going to get you a sketchbook."

"Now? What about pizza?"

"We'll pick up pizza on the way home." Buck pushed Tommy out the door.

At least they could still have their journaling time together...sort of.

[fuyuu-chan]

Bookworms (pt. 2 of reading each other's favorite books)

Pairing: Neuvillette x Reader

Fuyuu-chan: Hiii!! I decided to make a Part 2! Hope you enjoy reading this! 💙

Genre: Fluff

Part 1 is here!

✧⁠◝⁠(⁠⁰⁠▿⁠⁰⁠)⁠◜⁠✧

It's weekend, so what time is it?

That's right! Library time! Your all time favorite hobby is reading and so you were always excited to go to the library.

You and Neuvillette meet up earlier before lunch in town so you two can eat together for lunch in Café Lucerne and after you two ordered a take out for later while you two are in the library.

While on your way you saw a new bookstore so of course as always you two go inside to see what they have.

Always telling yourself to just look but can't help but buy at the end. So there we go your tote bag full of new books, it's supposedly for grocery you say but to be honest it's just for new notebooks, sketchbooks, books, and art books.

So there you go, your finally at the library. And it just so happened that you built a private library and it's done a few weeks ago and you love it so much. So basically your library, and recently you and Neuvillette always go there for the weekend.

You entered and go to one of the sections, you place the other books you just bought in the bookshelf and the notebooks to the Writing section you had. You love writing because you always get inspired by the books you read so you had the writing section where all the things you need are there.

After that you go find Neuvillette, and you found him sitting in one of the chairs in the center. You approached him with one book in hand and notebook and your fountain pen, in case you got an idea on what to write.

"Hey, found a book to read?" You said as you placed down your things on the table.

"Not yet" he says as he finished placing down the snacks and drinks you two ordered earlier for take out.

"Then go find one, I'll be here" you said as you sat down and smiled at him.

"Alright" he says as he go to his favorite section, thinking on what to pick.

While you were sat down and about to open the book, you got an idea on what to write, so you opened your notebook and grab your fountain pen and starts writing down your idea.

You were still writing when Neuvillette came back with a book in hand.

"Have a new idea huh?" He says as he looks at you writing while smiling.

"Yup hehe" you said as you looked at him.

He chuckles as he sat down and opened the book.

"So what book did you picked?" You said as you take a peak.

"It's a mystery novel (book name)" he says as he knew what was coming.

You gasp.

"Isn't that the book I recommend??" You said as you happily looked at him. You were glad he picked the book you recommend a few days ago.

"Yes it is, I thought why not try it especially since you have good taste in books" he says as he smiled helplessly.

"Awwww thank you, and I'm sure you would love that book!" You said. Excited for him to read it and see his reaction or his say about it after.

"Okay" Neuvillette said as he started to read.

You smiled and grab the book and starts too, while reading halfway you got another idea and inspiration from the book so you write it down and you will probably continue to do your idea later when you have the story in your mind.

In between of reading the book, some parts Neuvillette would talk to you about the part he likes in the book or where he was not expecting a part and you would see his facial reactions. You two would also take a break from reading, like drinking the drinks you two got and eating the snacks.

Few hours had passed and Neuvillette is done reading, he looks at you and see that you were still reading and looks like almost finished so he kept quiet and took a sip from his drink.

After a few minutes you closed the book and looks up to Neuvillette and saw him looking at you.

"Why are you looking? Is something on my face?" You asked as you place your hand on your face.

"No I was just admiring your beauty while you read" Neuvillette said as he chuckled because of your reaction to him looking at you.

You're flushed from his compliment so you looked away for a bit.

"Oh come on.... Anyways are you done reading?" You asked as you calm down a bit and finally looked at him again.

"Yeah a few minutes ago" he said as he points to the book he recently finished.

"I see, so how is it?" You asked. You look like you're so interested to his final say about the book especially you recommend it to him.

Neuvillette then told you about his opinion and true feelings about the book and you listened to him all the way. And you can tell that he enjoy the book because he was telling how he feels about it to you with a smile.

After that, he also asked you about the book you've read, you told him you felt different emotions about it it's like a roller coaster feeling but mostly you were happy especially in the end of the book where there was an art of the main characters together hugging each other.

You also told him a fact about the author that they were also an artist and so they decided to draw the main characters at the end. Which is cute and heartwarming.

You showed him the drawing and he smiled, because it is indeed cute and nice for the author to add it at the end.

After that you ask Neuvillette if he wanted to borrow a book in your library since when you still don't own a library he would usually borrow books in different libraries.

He agreed and so you waited for him to pick books to borrow and after that you two leave the library after closing it. Then the two of you only walk for a bit when you arrived at your doorstep (and to add something, the library and your house are actually in like a compound where you own that lot).

You offered to Neuvillette that he should stay over at dinner or if he would like to stay in for the night (which always happen since you two are best friends). And so he agrees (like usual).

ฅ⁠^⁠•⁠ﻌ⁠•⁠^⁠ฅ

Please do not copy, translate, repost to any other social media, Thank you

[chaoticarson16]

May we please have Loui, NY, and TX hc’s? 👁️👁️

*not forcing*

Of course you may!

Louisiana:

• He’s a literal sweetheart that gets along with everyone. Like, he knows everyone and everyone knows him

• He will drop whatever he’s doing to help one of his friends. Doing the dishes? Not anymore. Eating lunch? He says he ate enough. Self care? You need it more than I do! Therapy? He’ll be your therapist.

• He very rarely cusses. Every now and then he’ll cuss in French but he rarely cusses in English. When he does this everyone goes quiet cause he’s either in a lot of pain, very upset, or MAJORLY pissed.

• Him and California are the only two not allowed to be ANYWHERE near guns. (With the Wild West and the Black Panther group, please don’t quote me on this, California would be able to shoot guns frighteningly well. I also believe Loui would be extremely good at shooting guns, like, completely incapacitate someone but still keep them alive. Everyone believes they’d be way too dangerous with a gun. Even Florida won’t give them a gun….sometimes)

• Him and Florida have a pet alligator that they’ve named Kitten. She’s around 8 feet and is the biggest softie ever. When the others hear they’ve got a pet named Kitten, they assume they have a cat and weren’t very creative with the name. They are wrong. Florida and Loui laugh every time they agree to meet Kitten and she’s a big ass gator. Govs the only one who got used to her (surprisingly) cause when they got married (pushing my Flouigov agenda) Kitten would constantly follow Florida or Loui and she eventually started following Gov too since he was there more then the other states and she now sees his as a family member.

New York:

• He LOVES to draw. Like, this man always has a sketchbook on him. Any chance he gets he buys a new one (literally me tho) but they don’t last cause he’s always drawing.

• He’s got hella tattoos. Him and California have the most tattoos out of anyone else in the statehouse. Most of the states believed New York had the most tattoos until there was a pool party at the statehouse and they saw Californias.

• Him and Colorado are surprisingly friends. They’re hiking buddies and like to go exploring together. New York likes hiking with Colorado cause he’s allowed to climb pretty much everything. Colorado likes hiking with York cause he’s one of the only people who can keep up with him.

• Him and Jersey like to act like they hate each other, but they’re actually twins and they’re really close. They created different signals (hand placement, facial expressions, pencil/pen placement) to have silent conversations in the middle of a meeting. They’ve started randomly laughing while Gov or one of the other states were talking and had to leave the room to stop. Everyone was very confused.

• Begged Illinois to go see the Chicago rat hole and when Illinois finally agreed he was super excited. He took so many pictures and even left some money there. He cried when he found out someone filled it.

• Him and California have a black oriental cat that they’ve named Gremlin. He’s so stupid and they love him very much.

Texas:

• Him, Jersey, and North Dakota all garden and they love to go to one of their houses and plant new plants that they bought while shopping alone cause they have no self control- (Jersey is the garden state and North Dakota is the peace garden state)

• He has a red dun quarter horse with white blaze and sock markings (yes I looked it up cause I had a very specific image in my head) named Janie. He likes go horseback riding a lot since it calms it down.

• He’s also got an Australian shepherd named Buck (I know so original) but the funny part is she’s a girl. She learned to nip at people’s feet when they call her a he and Texas finds that hilarious. When he says she has an attitude, he means it. She’s also like an emotional support dog for him which honestly he needs. This boy got hella trauma-

• This man is deathly terrified of big crowds. If he can’t easily get to an exit he starts to panic. And when I say panic I mean p a n i c. He started crying and having a panic attack after a meeting cause he was too tired to teleport and everyone kinda crowded around the door to talk. It was made even worse when they started crowding him to make sure he was ok. Buck ended up not leaving his side for a while after that, even going to meetings. If she saw people crowding the door she’d go up to them and bark till they left.

Sorry this is a bit late! My teacher threw a random test at us and I still haven’t finish it💀

[katabay]

I'm going to be honest finding your account has sent me down a rabbit hole I did not expect to find myself in, yesterday I spent six hours, looking at all of your stuff and I'm absolutely amazed, I have no words. Your art and everything you talk about I'm absolutely fascinated in a very normal way I don't mean to sound weird. I was wondering if you had any thoughts to share with someone who's hating everything they draw and have lost the fun and passion when creating, I want to snap out of it.

I've been holding onto this ask for a minute because a few years back I went through a phase (I call it a phase, I fully intended never to pick up art again) where I also hated everything I was making

ultimately, what got me out of it was mostly doing other stuff. not even in a 'get a new hobby,' kind of way, I hated drawing in my sketchbook, so I started cutting out washi tape as clothes over old sketches and filling in the negative space between scribbles with highlighter and pen colors I thought looked nice. I went out to daiso, bought $10 worth of stickers, and started putting them where I thought it would look nice when I got the urge to do something but still couldn't bring myself to actually pick up a pencil.

if there's something that you know for sure you don't like about art, it can help to confront it and then go in the other direction. there were a lot of things I used to draw because I felt like it was expected, only I was unhappy all the time, and once I realized I was unhappy because I wasn't actually exploring what I thought was interesting about the subject holding my attention, it was sometimes easier to see what I DID want to do, I just had to acknowledge what I DIDNT want first.

that said, I still have an on-off again antagonism with myself and art, it's messy and it's always going to be that way for me, but whenever I feel stuck, I do try to change things up, or head off to a space that I feel has absolutely no expectations from me whatsoever. like. whenever I get really annoyed on my history blog, I actually turn to watching 2PM's vlogs on youtube. I have enough 2PM art in my sketchbooks I almost thought about making a dedicated HOTTEST twitter account lmao.

probably my last thought on this might be: try keeping two sketchbooks. nothing expensive. one can be something more serious, but keep a space just for yourself to fuck around in. don't draw in it unless you want to. put stickers in it, press flowers that you think look neat. buy some cheap water colors and see if you like the blues that you get out of it. it's okay to feel antagonistic towards art, but if you aren't ready to break up with it (and art will always be there if you want to go back, that's an important thing), I've found the straightforwardness of 'I like these stickers, so I'm going to put them on top of this square of blue I liked,' to be akin to leaving messages for someone you aren't ready to talk to face to face just yet, but maybe someday.

[f4y3w00d5]

lmao i had no intention of telling yall it was my birthday but since it is ill tell you what i got

Got about a hundred fifty bucks from my relatives collectively (and 50 bucks in a gift card, but the giftcard goes to officeworks so imma buy some posca paint pens), so now i have MONEY AGAIN

I got a new sketchbook cos mine was nearly full (IT HAS FLOWERS ON IT!!! PLUS MY 4 YR OLD COUSIN I HAVENT SEEN IN A YEAR DREW ME PRESENTS IN IT EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE)

Got a new phonecase (cos i had to get a new phone cos it stopped charging, so had to find a new phonecase cos it was a different type)

Im gonna also get to go shopping at my fav store with my aunt :333

ALSO I NOW HAVE TWO PAIRS OF ILLFITTING DOC MARTENS SO I HAVE 4 PAIRS OF SHOES NOW :DDDD THIS IS LIKE THE MOST IVE EVER HAD!!!

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

hi! i saw the ask game and wanted to ask either 🫐 or 🌈: is there any line/quote from a wip you’d like to share that may not totally fit the listed themes but you still want to share? thanks!

fuck it we ball [lemony snicket appears and turns to look at the camera, although his face is lost to the shadows] In this instance, reader, 'ball' can be defined as 'we can answer both of these questions', or perhaps 'the author was originally going to choose rainbow after receiving an abundance of blueberries, but has now found another quote he would like to share, but also has no wish to forsake the question of the rainbow, and therefore, has decided, to do both, rather than either'.

🫐 a line from a published work that you’re proud of, but no one’s mentioned yet - or if you can’t think of one, an underrated line in general

They’re friends. Trent knows how he takes his tea, and Colin knows that Trent actually prefers hot chocolate to tea, even if he wouldn’t normally admit it. Colin knows Trent chews on his pens no matter how hard he tries to break the habit, and then keeps buying new ones to cover up the marks, so he just has two huge boxes of pens hidden in his desk, one for the bitten ones and one for new ones, and Trent knows that Colin likes to draw even though he’s not that good at it, and has one sketchbook with doodles of the team (and Trent, too, and the coaches, and Will, and even Ms. Welton and Higgins) and another that’s filled with drawings of men he's been on dates with that just gives way to pages and pages of Michael. And some dragons doodled around the corners, because of course there are.

from "two (not) pieces of shit"

i just like this little list of headcanons i made for this fic i just enjoy them,

🌈 asker’s choice of wip: request a quote from a wip - something i want to share that might not fit the themes

hmmm i guess this is kind of funny but it's not really a Comedy Quote but it kind of is but like.... hmmm fuck it i'll just do this one:

“He was into it,” said Beard, with the solemnity of someone who Knows things they shouldn’t. “Wow, really?” says Keeley. “Huh. I guess I can see it.” “Oh, yeah, he’s had a bizarre crush on Ted for ages,” says Beard. “You know how you get a really intense, weird crush on someone you think is straight and/or unattainable, so you just try to repress it until it goes away, but that only makes it a little weirder?” “Ah,” says Keeley, with deeper understanding. “So he’s wildly in denial.” “Wildly,” agrees Beard. “Hang on,” says Ted, “Trent’s what?” “Into you, keep up,” says Beard.

[thiswasinevitableid]

Spring Awakening (OT4)

The “continuation” winner was eldritch OT4! You can read as a stand alone but the first part is very good.  Mild content warning: the prompt does mean there are references to body horror. There are also references towards breeding, but none actually occurs.

Winter has never been Indrid’s favorite season; it’s cold, the first chunk of it is spent with everyone telling him to give thanks and be cheery, and his van always malfunctions more. 

Now he has a new reason: one of his boyfriends hibernates.

It was just after Thanksgiving that Duck told him and Joseph what would happen. 

“It ain’t a full hibernation; I won’t be dead to the world.” Duck’s in his human form, which he favors for serious discussions. Indrid appreciates this, as it’s easier to read emotion on a round, friendly face than an incomprehensible mass of plant matter and ancient divinity, “but when growing things go to sleep, I go with ‘em. I’m alert enough, even in my sleep, to make sure the house keeps standing and that you two are taken care of. Not to mention this big fella will still be here.” He tips his head towards Barclay, whose resting in his bigfoot form by the fire

Joseph had a number of follow-up questions, but Indrid’s main concern was whether Duck would want them to touch him or take care of him while he slept. Phlox poked out of Duck’s shoulders as he smiled and said he’d appreciate it. 

That’s why Indrid is sitting in a nook of their cabin, stroking approximately at Duck’s shoulder; his human form is all but gone, and his eldritch one seems to be melding with the wall of the cabin. A tingle runs through his fingers, as if he was running them over the tips of fresh grass. 

Barclay is elsewhere gathering his offerings, and Joseph has been on assignment for over a month. Indrid ought to go into town and check the P.O box before it starts snowing again. But he doesn’t want to leave Duck’s side, the warmth radiating from the core of his form. 

“I’m going to run some errands, sweetheart. I won’t be long” He leans down, kissing a dark patch of corn silk. 

As he pulls on his jacket, a voice in the air drawls, faintly, “See you soon, darlin.”

He stops first at the general store, Leo waving to him as he helps himself to the small shelf of arts and crafts supplies. Neither Barclay nor Duck can quite manage to make drawing paper, so every few weeks he buys a new sketchbook for his commissions. 

The post office is full of racks of pink, white, and red, all signs of the impending holiday. Valentines’ Day fascinates Barclay, and has promised Indrid he’ll do something special for the two of them, and Indrid’s fairly certain he spotted him trying to make snowflakes take the form of hearts.

He opens the P.O box, pulling out flyers for the dehumidifier store and the strange waterpark on the edge of town; they only have the box  is because the farmhouse by the field has no known address. And a tendency to move around from side road to side road.

Under the multi-colored fliers is a single postcard. It’s a photo of Lake Mendota, with a little, serpentine monster drawn on in pen. He flips it over with a smile.

Dear Indrid, Barclay, and Duck,

Madison is about how I remember it. I can’t say much about the case, other than so far I’ve been right about everything and the other agents lost a car to the thing we’re investigating. 

Indrid, you should come here with me sometime when I’m not working. Might sister keeps demanding to know when I’m going to introduce you, and there’s a lot of excellent places to get ice cream and baked goods. We could even bring some back for Barclay and Duck if we timed it right. 

I miss you all so much. I can’t wait to come home. 

Love, 

-Joseph. 

There’s a meticulously drawn heart after the name. Indrid tucks it safely in his coat pocket and steps back into the cold. 

—------------------------------------------------------------

The frost makes it much harder to feel the decay of the stray fruits and layers of leaves blanketing the earth. So much so that Barclay spends most of his hunting for offerings in town; the high school has something called “home ec” where students' attempts at cooking sometimes end in a trash can of burnt offerings. From the taste of the cake he just finished, the baker would have produced something stunning had they watched the oven more closely. 

Where his body takes in the decay in the deeper layers of the earth, he feels familiar footfalls and Indrid’s voice on the wind. He concentrates his being on the spot, taking his more mortal form in front of the bundled-up human. 

“Hey, little moth. What do you need?”

“I…” Indrid peers hesitantly up at him, “I was hoping you had some time to spend with me today. It’s been a few since I really saw you, and with Duck asleep and Joseph away-”

“Think I get the drift.” He wraps his arms around the human, resting his chin atop his head, “time is weird for us, so thanks for telling me.”

“May I say something silly?”

“Sure thing.” 

“I miss Duck so much. Which is ridiculous, and greedy, I have you and Joseph and that should be more than enough but it isn’t.”

“If we were interchangeable, you wouldn’t want all three of us. I mean, I miss Joseph when he’s gone for, like, a day, even if I spend that whole time making a pillow burrow with you. Pillow fort?”

“Fort.” Indrid mumbles against him, “I feel so selfish, wishing spring would come just so Duck could hold me, really hold me, again.”

“You’re not selfish, little moth.” He nudges Indrid’s hood back and kisses silver hair, “but I got an idea. What are missing most right now?”

Indrid hums, “The way he sort of...envelops me sometimes. Like he did the night we first met; heavy and comforting on top of me, touching me everywhere, like I, I’m something worth treasuring.”

“He and I sure as fuck agree on that part. And I think I have something that might tide you over until spring. Close your eyes for me.”

The human obeys and Barclay unfurls himself, his fur peeling out and away, his body spinning into its true form, mouths tasting the air, the earth, the leaves on the trees and the mushrooms sleeping beneath them. 

He wraps himself tenderly around Indrid, taking care to keep his head and neck free; according to Duck, humans tend to panic if you confine their heads. Indrid sighs as he registers the pressure of Barclay around him. Of his human lovers, Indrid is the one who enjoys being bound and trapped this much; Joseph adores when Barclay holds him down or cuffs him to a headboard or branch, but anything more than that turns the excitement in those blue eyes to fear. 

His hands find Indrid’s zippers and buttons as his pelt slides beneath his feet, insulating him from the snowy ground. 

“Ohhhhh it’s so warm like this.” Indrid’s muscles relax and Barclay clings tighter to be sure he stays upright. Peeling Indrid’s clothes off layer by layer, more and more of Barclay’s hands emerge, eager to join the fun. Before Indrid, he never gave much thought to the texture of his fur. Now his human presses and twists his body against it, biting his lip as his cock rubs along a patch of it. Barclay smiles and his mouths multiply, kissing up long legs as his hands grope his ass, caress his face, tease his chest in hopes of showing him how much he deserves. 

“That’s, that’s so lovely, I-OH” Indrid laughs, “what was that hand made of? It tickled.”

“Uh, like, mossy reeds? You mean this one right?” He rubs Indrid’s stomach and the human laughs again, much louder this time.

“Indeed.” He squirms as several hands find his cock, one thumbing the tip while another strokes the shaft and a third teases his balls, “I, Barclay please I want, I want…”

“Want what?” He rumbles.

“Cover me up all the way, please. I know why you’re, you’re being cautious but I’m not afraid. I know you’ll let me go if I ask.”

Barclay pushes his form up, cocooning Indrid and discovering instantly that this means he can now kiss his lips and cheeks, run his hands through his hair the way people do in the movies Indrid watches curled up on the couch some nights. 

Pleasure is an odd thing when his body is once formless and concrete, not nearly as straightforward as when Barclay is in his mortal disguise. The most sensitive part of him when he’s like this are his mouths, and so he devours Indrid with kisses, savoring each little memory and feeling they bring to his tongues. 

Indrid’s cries turn wordless when a soft, fork-tongued moth finds his cock and sucks hungrily. Human fingers cling to his fur and Barclay revels in the touch, in the pleasure of bringing Indrid this close, of being able to keep him safe, warm, and happy, all while he writhes in delight and cums with an adorable squeak. 

Barclay twists and turns his body through space, bringing them back to the cabin and depositing Indrid into bed. 

“I love you” Indrid purrs, eyes bleary with joy when Barclay removes the red glasses and sets them on the little stand Duck made for them so they wouldn’t keep getting lost. 

“Love you too, little moth.” As he brings his mortal disguise back, a single, green vine snakes up the bed and slowly tugs a thick, mothman patterned blanket over Indrid’s body. Then it picks up the mothman plush from the corner and tucks it into Indrid’s arms.

“Thank you, my sweet.” Indrid gazes towards Duck. 

The vine caresses his cheek as it retreats and the floor creaks, “rest up, darlin.” 

Barclay plants a final kiss on Indrid’s forehead, then goes to see if he can recreate the home ec cake without the char. 

—----------------------------------------------------------

First, the case took twice as long as anticipated. Then there was the deposition in a Michigan case from last year that finally went to trial. Finally, to top it all off, his flight was delayed for two days. 

All this is to say, the most pressing thought on Joseph’s mind is how fast he can drive without putting the car in a snowbank. 

When the “Welcome to Kepler” sign finally comes into view, he relaxes his grip on the wheel and carefully navigates into the library parking lot. It’s a half hour to closing, and the snow is a half-foot high on the book drop. He knocks his boots against the mat and crosses the pine-tree green carpet to return the stack of books he took on his trip. Since he has a few minutes to spare, he scans the new books shelf and the rows of romance for titles for himself or Indrid. 

As he stacks a copy of Red Hot Ranch on paperback of A History of Mysteries, he spots the new sheriff and gives him a friendly nod. The man gives him a tight smile in return and ducks behind a shelf. 

His initial return to Kepler after being tossed into the field as a sacrifice had been so shocking that the previous sheriff fainted when Joseph stepped into the room to explain why he, and the mayor, were being arrested for kidnapping and wrongful imprisonment. Joseph knows Duck needed the energy from the sacrifices, and that he let all but a few go, but that’s no excuse for non-consensually offering people up to him. 

After the arrests, he mentioned to the interim mayor that he’d be setting up a satellite office in Kepler, since there was a lot of paranormal activity in the area. Then he made damn sure that the tail they put on him followed him all the way back to the abandoned farmhouse and watched as he stepped out of the car and into the cornfield, the stalks parting to show him the way back to the cabin. 

In a way, the people in town are more afraid of him than of Indrid, in spite of them both surviving stints in the cornfield with their memories intact and then taking up residence there. He suspects they think Indrid–with his otherworldly face and aloof demeanor–is a god himself. It’s a fair conclusion, given that every tomato plant, pumpkin vine, and apple tree in town got an unexpected, final wave of fruit when he arrived. Which means they think Joseph is the only human in town able to walk with gods without fear. 

He sets his books in the passenger seat and makes his final stop; Indrid asked him to pick up a few groceries on his way home. He tucks a bottle of hard cider next to the toothpaste, hoping he and Indrid can split it tomorrow while watching horror movies on the bed (he bought them some solar cell packs, as neither Duck nor Barclay have much sway over electricity).

Before the field, his last time having sex while tipsy was back in college and not particularly memorable. The more drinking became a social necessity for his work, where he was already seen as unusual and too buttoned-up, the more he was careful to never let his guard down and enjoy himself, unwilling to give his co-workers fodder to further discredit him. 

The past October, he and Indrid had decided to take a picnic into the field and watch Orionid Meteor Shower, the evening still carrying traces of summer. Duck made them a dome of corn husks and sunflower stalks to eat under, the dirt turning to a carpet of impossibly soft clover as they sat down. They’d drunk something honeyed and definitely alcoholic that Duck made them and traded bites of pear cake Barclay prepared as the sliver of a moon rose. 

Dinner was barely done before they were tangled together on the ground, making out with all the excitement and carelessness of far younger men. Then Indrid was on his back, humming as Joseph sat on his face, laughing because it felt nice and because he could. By the end of it there was slick on Indrid’s chin and cum on Joseph’s thigh, neither of them particularly interested in fucking full-on when there was so much of each other to enjoy. 

Then they’d lain on their backs and the dome opened, revealing an infinity of stars as tendrils of grass stroked their hair and the clover turned to thick, soft fur. 

God help him, if the farmhouse isn’t around this next corner he’s going to offroad to cut his time getting there. Snow be damned. 

He’s saved from this poor decision by the familiar silhouette, and turns towards home. Once parked, he retrieves his bags and steps towards the field. The withered stalks try to bend, but can’t get far. Watching them, he understands the worry in Indrid’s voice the last time they spoke on the phone; knowing Duck is at a low power is one thing, seeing the signs of him weakened is another. 

As he’s wondering if he can get to the cabin from memory, a form materializes from the snow. 

“Hey, blue eyes.” 

“Hi, big guy.” Joseph tips his face up so Barclay can kiss him, a hint of winter bonfire and cardamom on his tongue. 

“Lemme get those.” Several more arms appear on his bigfoot form, taking Joseph’s things with ease. Walking close to him seems to stave off the cold, and furry, warm arm rests on his shoulders as Barclay asks about the trip. 

When they reach the cabin, the god sets the bags on the table and the suitcase on the bed. Joseph kneels down to the mass of glowing fungus and twisted plant life and takes the nearest vine in his hands, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. 

“Just letting you know I’m home.”

“Missed you, sugar.” The reply seems to come from the stalks rattling outside the windows. 

The back door creaks and Indrid steps into the main cabin; Duck built him a little art studio–complete with pencils and paints conjured from plants– so he didn’t have to always go into the one he teaches at in town. 

“Welcome home, pet.” Indrid drapes his arms over Joseph’s shoulders. There’s charcoal on his cheek, and Joseph wipes it away before kissing him. Indrid grins when they part, “I have some business with you, agent.”

“I hoped as much.”

“Barclay, will you be joining us?”

“Not as much as I want to.” The god sighs, “The freeze is deep this year, and on top of that, humans seem to burn themselves out on cooking and canning after the new year. So I need to forage a bit more tonight.” He kisses them both goodbye and then he’s gone.

Joseph unpacks his things in a hurry, knowing he won’t be able to enjoy himself with Indrid if the laundry isn’t in the hamper and the groceries aren’t put away. Indrid makes no comment other than asking what on earth can rip the tire off an SUV. As they talk, the domesticity of it all overwhelms him; a home like this with someone used to be no less out of reach than living in a cabin in a cornfield with two eldritch beings. 

“You know, when I was zig-zagging about the states I–oh” Indrid smiles as Joseph gently backs him against the counter for a kiss, “shall I leave the last bag for later?”

“Please.”

Indrid laughs, allowing Joseph to pull him to the bed. Then his grin turns wicked and Joseph is trapped on his back, his boyfriend calling, “Barclay? A moment of assistance?”

Black, fur-lined cuffs appear on his wrist, leather cord leading from each to the headboard. As Indrid fetches a matching collar from a peg on the wall, Joseph groans, “I haven’t gotten to touch you in weeks and this is what you do to me?”

“As much as I love your attentive touches” Indrid closes the collar around Joseph’s throat, “we both know that when you’ve been overwhelmed with work, what you truly need is to be taken.”

“Yes” He closes his eyes, lifts his hips and shifts his legs to help Indrid undress him. He’s still in a dress shirt, but rather than uncuffing him a moment Indrid opts to leave it unbuttoned and shove the undershirt up to kiss his stomach before retreating to remove his pajamas. 

When his boyfriend finally pushes his cock into him they groan in comic unison. Indrid rests their foreheads together and murmurs, “I missed you so much, pet. So much.”

Hands unable to comfort him, Joseph kisses his chin and jaw, “I’m here now.”

Indrid licks his lips, “So you are.”

His boyfriend takes his time, thrusts slow and steady while languidly kissing Joseph to capture his moans. Eventually his hand slips between them, rubbing Joseph’s dick. The collar no longer feels inanimate; now it’s Barclay’s hand, reaching across acres to close around his throat and remind him to be a good boy. 

When he cums it’s with a pent up moan from over a month without the attention he ached for. Indrid switches to quick thrusts, joining him with a little gasp. Once he pulls out, Indrid rolls over, only managing to wiggle his pajama pants back on before cuddling into Joseph’s arms. He pets his boyfriend’s back, tracing his fingers over his tattoos, and spots a single, glowing eye watching them from Duck’s spot. 

He hopes he enjoyed the show. 

Joseph blows a kiss. The eye winks, playful, and then it’s gone. 

—---------------------------------------------------------

On March 7th, Joseph and Indrid wake up to snowdrops peeking through the floor. Joseph says “that’s a good sign” as Indrid sprints across the cabin to where Duck’s form is looking more human by the moment. 

“Hey, darlin. Hey, city boy.” Duck shifts positions, sitting up for the first time in two months. Skin is always the last thing to form on him, so Joseph feels as if he’s looking at an anatomical drawing where the sinews are swapped for roots and stems. 

“Do you need anything?” Indrid’s hands are flapping as Duck yawns and stretches. 

“Nah, I’m okay for now, sugar. It’ll take me a few days, maybe even a few weeks, to be able to do much more’n sit here and talk. By the by, that tree in the orchard that the storm took out is gonna make for some real nice soil. Good job on the decay, big fella.”

“Thanks, man.” The rug by the fire yawns, pushing up onto many hands as Barclay’s bigfoot form takes shape, “feels like there might be more mushroom this year, I kept running into their mycelium.”

“That’ll be nice, gets folks out and foraging, which I like to see. Uh” his posture turns sheepish, “sorry, shouldn’t talk shop when y’all been missin’ me, but I always wake up with all this info about how spring is gonna go.”

“I do not care what you talk about” Indrid takes an earthy hand, “I’ve missed hearing your full voice too much.”

“And I, sadly, have to be at work in forty-five minutes. Catch me up at dinner?”

“Yes” the three respond as one. 

The stalks still struggle to form a path as he walks out. But when he gets to his car, crocuses bloom in the shape of a heart by the driver-side door. 

When he arrives home that night, Duck has hair and a thin layer of skin and as wrapped in a robe of new leaves, Indrid perched in his lap. Joseph takes up a similar position in Barclay’s lap, breathing in crisp air as his boyfriend nuzzles his throat. They stay up well past midnight, just talking, and Joseph is glad tomorrow is Saturday. 

He’s even more grateful for this when he’s awoken in the early morning by a yelp. Indrid, who was a moment ago on his side, asleep, is now being dragged across the floor to where the swirling mass of Duck’s true form is gathering in the center of the room. Even seeing it dozens of times, Joseph’s brain rebels at defining the shape as anything more general than “big” and “covered in bioluminescent patches to act as eyes.” At least he can tell that Indrid isn’t being dragged as he first thought; a tendril of green has his ankle, but he’s being spirited towards Duck by a carpet of small, purple flowers. 

“I, I thought you said you wouldn’t need this kind of, of intensitEEP” Indrid squirms as his clothes are thrown to the other side of the room, “for a few weeks, when, when spring started in earnest and brought your energy with it.”

“That’s how it’s happened every year for longer than anyone can remember. But this year, you’re here, sugar. You put more energy into me just from cuddlin’ yesterday than I’d normally gather in a month. Which means I’m fuckin’ ravenous and it’s time for my little offering to do his job.”

Indrid moans, body fully off the ground in the vines sprouting from the floor and ceiling. Reality bends and cracks so abruptly that Joseph gets a headache. Then Duck’s human form is standing their, studying Indrid. 

“You ready for this?”

“Yes, yesyes, Duck please”

The god takes Indrid’s face in his hands, and for a moment everything, even the air, is still. Joseph wonders what Duck is looking for, if he sees things in Indrid Joseph’s human eyes will never perceive. 

Even tied up, Indrid manages to lean forward and kiss Duck. When he pulls back, the god’s smile is achingly human in its affection. 

Then Indrid cries out as a tendril pushing into his ass, the noise muffled as another finds his mouth. Some of the plant matter pulls him to his knees, bright red flowers spreading out around him as another vine circles his dick and a fourth begins twining up his body.

To Joseph’s surprise, Duck’s attention shifts to him.

“Now, if I recall correctly, city boy, I ain’t shown you all my dicks just yet.”

“I, I cataloged five so far” His tongue is sticking in his mouth and his sleep pants are already a mess. As Duck prowls towards him, he seems to become more solid, more real, with every step.

“Clothes off. Now.”

Joseph obeys as thin, flexible tree branches extend from the wall to fasten his collar in place. Duck manhandles him into his lap, facing Joseph away from him, vines spinning Indrid to face them at the same time. 

The scene across from makes any porn he’s seen look tamer than a Disney kiss. It’s as if all the plant life emerging from Duck’s renewed energy is reaching for Indrid, leaves forming into hands to pull his head back, vines working his cock, binding his thighs to the ground, and tugging at his nipple piercings, while the main two fuck him so deeply it’s as if they’re trying to touch inside him. Tears are coming down Indrid’s cheeks and he’s thrashing with every thrust. 

“Duck? Is, can you tell if he’s alright?”

Hands the temperature of sun-warmed dirt slip around his waist to caress his chest and stomach, “Yeah, darlin, I can. I’ll feel if he needs to stop before he even has a chance to say it.” A kiss on his cheek, gardenia tickling his nose, “thanks for lookin out for him. You want me to show you somethin’ new?”

“Yes, please.”

The head of the cock slides in so suddenly he doesn’t get a chance to look at it. Staring down, he can only see the base, which resembles a hibiscus flower in shape and color. Rather than pushing into him, the base cups his body, and the “petals” begin undulating, stroking his cock and folds deliciously. The cock inside him feels pretty plain, though now and then it seems to ripple.

“I gonna get to get in on the action?”

Joseph’s head snaps up to find Barclay idly stroking his cock as he watches Indrid. 

The vines holding Indrid shove him forward, offering Barclay a much better view of his ass as Duck says, “you can have as much of Joe as you want. But just for today, ‘Drid is all mine.”

“Got it.” Barclay stands, “not like it’s a bummer to just fuck you, blue eyes.” A short, thick, rounded cock bumps his mouth, “open up baby.”

Joseph takes the cock into his mouth, the tightly packed bumps on it already each moving on their own. It’s a wonderful, novel feeling on his tongue and he sucks happily as little growls come from above him. The pressure on his own dick changes, speeding up and pushing him towards his orgasm. He tries to pull off and say this, but Duck holds his head in place, forcing him to keep the cock in his mouth.

“I know city boy, I can tell you’re close. I’m glad you’re havin’ fun, but you cummin’ ain’t what stops this.”

He whimpers happily and surrenders to his orgasm. He can’t see Indrid anymore, but Duck seems to have stopped fucking this throat, and desperate, ecstatic moans are coming from just out of sight. 

“Mmmm, forgot how good you feel, city boy.”

He finds Duck’s hands and squeezes them, snickering when flowers follow the path of his thumbs. 

“That’s it, fuck, you both feel so fuckin good, I’m, I’m gonna-” There’s a grunt like a tree groaning in the wind and then something bursts from the cock inside him, hundreds of disctint sensations, all buzzing. The portion on the outside of his body doesn’t let up in the slightest, and the shaft inside begins not only expanding but pulsing.

“Feel that?” Duck growls in his ear, “told you I had one that had seeds that’d fill you up and get you off at the same time. But that ain’t all” another pulse and Duck purrs, “y’know what it’s doin?”

Joseph manages to shake his head.

“It’s trying to keep ‘em all in and push ‘em as deep as they can go.” A hand slides to Joseph’s stomach, “heard all kinds of stories about humans gettin’ bred by gods like us.”

Words like that would bother him with anyone else, but Duck’s grasp of human genders is shaky at best, and he knows this doesn’t change how his boyfriend sees him. Also that Duck, would never actually do something like that without seriously checking with him first.

So he surrenders to the fantasy, spreading his legs wider to feel the base of the cock widen to keep everything in. 

 “Fuck, you like that blue eyes?” Barclay groans, “then once Duck is done I oughta have a turn. See if I can make it so all you can do is burrow up with me and let me take care of you.”

“Good thinking. We’ll both try today. Whoever’s takes, the other guy will get to put the next one in him. Not, not like I can’t make this cabin big as we need it to be.”

Barclay cums down Joseph’s throat, and the sensation is so overwhelming combined with the way Duck is fucking him that Joseph cums again, certain he’s squirted as well.

“Fuck yeah” Duck holds him down as the cock pushes deeper, “see, your body wants us to know just how bad you want this.”

“Yes” he gasps, Barclay holding his face up so he can watch him come apart, “yes, god please”

“Your wish is my command, darlin.” Duck moans and another wave of cum pulses into him, then another, and another, the vibrations finding all the right spots inside him and he cums a third time, helplessly crying out as Barclay tells him he was made for this. 

Then Duck pulls out and waves of something faintly blue drip down Joseph’s legs as Barclay cleans him and bundles him up into the bed. Indrid is limp in the vines, cum noticeable on the floor, and Duck scoops him up to carry him over, whispering all the while about how much he loves him, how amazing he is, how he’ll always take care of him. 

As Indrid curls against him, Joseph murmurs, “Was that okay? They didn’t ignore you for my sake?”

His boyfriend smiles weakly, “First, pet, do not underestimate how much I enjoy seeing you ruined. But more importantly, Duck was with me, too. A benefit of his nature, I would say.”

“No kidding.” Joseph kisses him softly as Duck and Barclay cuddle up with them, the whole house moving to prepare them breakfast and clean the floor. And when Joseph steps outside after a long nap, he finds the entire structure covered in spring blooms. 

[foxsnails]

Not to sound like?? Pretentious I guess?? (Although I don’t like that word) but something happened to me and my art this year

Like for years I had been reluctant to do traditional art bc I thought I’d suck at it, it’d been so long and my digital was fine, so what was the point? Then I realised just how burnt out I was, had been for a while, and just crashed.

During that crash I picked up an old sketchbook that I had only doodled on like 2 pages in and tore them out. I was just trying to get myself to draw ANYTHING. I got coloured pencils instead of graphite bc I always found just grey drawings boring, and it works so well and getting me engaged in traditional art.

It’s at the point now where traditional art is my favourite medium and I feel genuine joy doing it again. I’ve become excited about new mediums and tried a bunch of new materials, my drive to draw hasn’t been this strong since I was a kid

I’ve also stopped trying to box my art into one specific style, no longer trying to be a furry artist, or a kids book artist or any ___ artist, just an artist. I can draw in so many different ways, I need to stop feeling like I need to choose one to roll with forever. Letting this happen has helped improve my art and my relationship with my art so much and I hope it’s noticeable, it is to me at least. It’s given me more space to experiment and kinda merge these styles in some areas and I’m really enjoying it

The possibly pretentious part, but I feel this stuff is important, is that I’m actually buying books for the art AND READING THEM, AND ENJOYING THEM. Bc of my adhd I kinda stopped reading all together when I was 12, I had no interest in books anymore or cared to absorb physical art or even learn art history and stuff like that. But now it’s like I’m suddenly refreshed, seeking new things and engaging with art around me and I love all that stuff. I even have an interest in like fine art and wanna go to galleries?? Something I never thought I’d wanna do

The question “what do you wanna do with your life?” Has always confused me and I’ve never had a solid answer other than “survive”, but I was thinking about it the other night and it just so easily popped into my head “I just want to create and consume art for the rest of my life”, and now I’m trying to get into the local art scene

I’m just rambling bc this is the best I’ve felt, creatively, in a painfully long time. But if you’re feeling burnt out, just put the pen down for a lil bit and try something else

[chaosinmarz]

28/12/2022

sweet day, went to the aquarium and drew so many fishes. might send them to the aquarium in an email because im constantly there when visiting my family. possibly the best day to watch the octopus as it was very active (i have never realised how big it is!!)

had burritos w a friend and my brother for lunch and they were amazingg worth every cent tbf and then went to the city center to go to my fav art store and to muji.

didnt buy anything at the art store, i really want to get into watercolours again but im so busy with university i dont even have time to paint, so i cant really justify buying more expensive paints… i currently work with the van gogh talens watercolours but im getting so sick of the colours, and the box is not portable enough… i also have the 12 set from kuretake gansai tambi and i love them to pieces but again, not very portable… i need to do more research but my dream in regards to watercolour is to buy a tiny metal box and fill it with half pans of nice paint, with nice colours :) the already made sets just all kinda feel the same and i feel like im at a point with my art where i can start tailoring to my favourite colours !

at muji i bought some refills for my black 0.5 pen as i dont have a muji store in notts when im at uni and i would honestly kill for that pen. i also got a blue and a red one mainly for my sketchbook ! ive seen so many people sketching w blue and i kinda fell in love with it to be fair, plus i love red so why not :) also got some nice green and gray highlighters which im quite excited about! i got a planner as well, but i dont really think i will use it for planning as notion has been working very well for me, but i might use it for journaling like a small sentence a day type beat.

got back home and realised our puppy hid the tv remote… its stuck in the news channel now, but i guess it could be worse?

not really looking foward to going back to uni, but i keep telling myself that im almost done with it, as im graduating in july !!! but i know that realistically, ill probably want to go back to uni as soon as im working.

[missdawnandherdusk]

Hufflepuff!Muggleborn Extensive Dating A Malfoy Headcanons:

Okay so this got very long very fast but I apologize for nothing.

So you’re pretty much terrified of getting your Hogwarts letter because you have no idea what magic is but now you’re a wizard???

You go anyway and see a blond little boy at Diagon Alley with his parents and his mother has the same list as your dad does

So maybe you follow the little boy around and pick out the things he does because he seems to know what he’s doing

Then you heard his father hiss “disgusting mud blood” your way and your face kinda falls because you thought maybe you found someone who could help and we’ll never mind

Your dad takes your hand and snaps at Lucius “what kind of example is that for your son? No, I’m not one of your lot but you shouldn’t take it out on my daughter!”

Draco peeks out from behind his fathers robes and looks at the tears in your eyes and maybe he does feel a little bad

You absolutely adore your wand

At the station a few older years can tell you’re new and very Muggle in your tshirt jeans and converse that they sort of adopt you one of them being Cedric

You’re not so scared anymore because it seems like maybe these people aren’t so bad

Some kid named Fred buys you a Chocolate Frog and his twin warns you about their sentience

You meet a few other first years and Hermione Granger whos also a muggle and you sort of lament about all of it. She’s super excited because there’s so much to learn and you start to adopt her perspective

You see the boy from Diagon Alley sneering and bullying other kids and you go up to him with the same fire in your eyes that you dad had and tell the boy off a-al-Muggle

He just laughs and scoffs but you don’t back down which scares him because everyone always backs down

Big brother Cedric comes over and tells Malfoy off for calling you a mudblood again and ushered you back to a compartment of other Hufflepuffs and someone explains to you the house system

“Well that’s kinda stupid,” you decide “why should we be separated based on what a magical hat thinks we might be?”

Cedric grins at you because you remind him of himself and stands clapping when you’re sorted into Hufflepuff

Momma Sprout helps you so much because she knows that her muggle born kiddos need the extra comfort and encouragement

You have Herbology with the Slytherins and that meant Draco Malfoy his name was rattling around your head since the Sorting Ceremony

You end up partners with him. You’re shy and quiet and he’s dismissive and snappy.

“Draco you shouldn’t—“ “Don’t tell me what to do! Filthy little mudblood.” You sit back and watch the Doxy bite him “well get help!” He demands “I thought you didn’t want a mudbloodas help,” you snap. He gives you a hopeless look and you administer the antidote and produce a Bandaid “stupid muggle bandage”

While he’s sulking you handle the Doxy properly and show him how it’s done without being snotty about it. Maybe you smirk at him when you catch him leaning in and watching closely

It’s not friendship but he doesn’t call you mudblood anymore so... there’s that

Cedric nearly has a heart attack when he asks about your first day and you tell him about Draco

You find your footing at Hogwarts and though you’re not the best in class you can still do magic and it’s SO FRICKIN COOL MOM I MADE A FEATHER FLOAT TODAY

You chat with Draco thoughout the year in class well you talk to him he doesn’t say much. “And my mom was so proud when I told her about the Goblin wars and my dad wants to see me leviosa a feather but I told him I can’t do magic outside of school...”

Then there’s a quiet “your parents are proud of you? And interested in all this stuff?”

You look at him, mystified and “...yes? They’re proud of whatever I do,” Draco looks down and continues to sketch the bowtruckle which is almost life like on how accurate it is

You write to your parents immediately asking them to send a letter to Draco and tell them all about his really good drawings in Herbology

It takes a few days but one morning Draco comes up to you in the Great Hall with a parcel

“I think this is yours, your stupid owl gave it to me” he sulks. “It has your name on it,” you point out. “But why would your parents...?” You shrug and go back to talking to your friends and reading your own letter from your mother. Draco huffs and mutters something under his breath and walks away

In Herbology he has a new set of very Muggle graphite pencils and a proper sketchbook and he’s just sketching the Mandrakes on the desk when you come in. He doesn’t say anything and neither do you. He’s less irritable now

It’s second year and you hug your parents and go say hi to your friends before finding a compartment for the long journey. You swap muggle candy for magic candy with your friends

Draco passes your compartment and you wave. He gives a half smile and keeps walking.

“You like him!” Your friends exclaim. “What? No! I don’t!” You turn very red. “He’s just a friend!!” No one is convinced

This year you have potions with Draco and you’re freaking out inside because you don’t know what you’re doing and Snape seems to have it out for you and you’re just a mess.

Draco volunteers to be your partner “to show this mudblood a little decorum and how things are properly done.” He scoffs

You look down, embarrassed but as soon as Draco is next to you, you hear a quiet apology.

You understand the charade he has to put on but you wished he didn’t and you really wish he’d stop calling you mudblood it was rather annoying

He helps you through potions like you helped him through Herbology. This year you have Herbology with the Ravenclaws and he has it with the Gryffindors. He totally whines to you all the time about Harry

Once he’s complaining and accidentally puts in the wrong ingredient and the entire thing threatens to explode. Before you know it, you’re on the ground under Draco who pulled you and the remnants of the potion is shielded from you because Dracos robes are draped over you

Snape scolds you for being stupid and you start to protest but Draco confesses that it was him mistake, not yours. Snape just eyes the pair of you and walks off.

“Thank you,” you stammer out. He rolls his eyes but there’s a soft smile on his face.

Boy does Draco flip out when he hears about the Chamber of Secrets because you’re in potential danger and he would willingly sacrifice Granger to keep you safe

He mentions that to you in Potions one day and you gap at him. “Draco killing anyone for any reason isn’t right.” You scold. There’s a cold look in his eyes and a fire in yours. “But... thank you... for worrying about me,”

Your friends still pester you because they can obviously see you like Draco and maybe you do... but you know he doesn’t like you so you’ll just ignore your feelings

Third year comes and your heart skips a beat when you see Draco because he grew a lot over the summer and his hair is no longer ridiculously slicked back and oh Merlin you’re in trouble

Unbeknownst to you Dracos heart flutters when he sees you and has to fight the urge to wave or say hi to you in front of his father.

This year you have History of Magic together

He sits down next to you without a second thought. You smile and say hi and ask about his summer and then he returns the question. Your muggle summer and his magic summer are both a bit lost on the other

“Didn’t you wear glasses?” He asks one day. “Oh, my mom let me get contacts,” “contacts?” “Um... like plasticy little doodads that go in my eyes and help me see?” He just stares and you laugh. “Too Muggle?” You ask. “Too Muggle,” he replies.

Now it’s a sort of game. Youll come in with something Muggle—Pens, notebooks, lined paper, Muggle books, a watch—and Draco decides whether it’s “too Muggle” or not for him. He quite likes pens and lined paper but you can keep your Muggle books

You tell your parents again and Draco gets a package filled with green notebooks and black pens and a pencil pouch with a snake on it.

You hear about the Buckbeak incident and you rush off to find Draco. He’s in the infirmary snapping at Pomfrey but softens when he sees you

“She’s just trying to help,” you scold softly. “Are you alright?” “Doesn’t hurts much anymore but it’s numb so...”

Pomfrey wants to keep him a few hours to make sure that his body is reacting to the medicine correctly and you stay with him.

“You know I’ve been thinking,” you start. “That’s scary,” he mutters. You hit him playfully and notice that he flinches so hard you note it and continue “I’ve been thinking that it really doesn’t make sense for you to call me a mudblood,” “and why not?” He snaps. “Well, I mean... I’m technically all muggle. If anyone was really a mudblood wouldn’t it be halfbloods? With a muggle and wizard parent?”

He doesn’t have an answer to that. So he sulks quietly. “Why doesn’t it bother you that I call you that?” He asks quietly. You shrug. “Sometimes I wonder if I really belong here. Your adamant hatred for me is comforting. Like I’m doing something right enough to make you upset about it.”

He doesn’t know what to say to that either. He didn’t know that you were insecure about being a wizard. Of course, you belonged here you were wonderful with magic and your hexes were remarkable.

“I don’t hate you,” he mumbled. “Sure you’re annoying with your cheery disposition and your... Converse trainers... but I don’t hate you.” You laugh and he thinks it’s a wonderful sound

“Well, I don’t hate you either,” you smile back. You don’t think it’s something but it’s definitely not nothing

You hear about what happens between he and Hermione and you’re furious because he’s better than that and you can’t believe he would still call her a mudblood

You refuse to talk to him for a few days. Which is hard because he tries to make small talk with you.

One day in class he slips you a folded piece of parchment and you open it. Begrudgingly. “Im sorry, I was an arse. I shouldn’t have called her that.” You take your pen and scribble quickly “you’re apologizing to the wrong person.” And slide it back to him

Draco did apologize to Hermione before he apologized to you and he’s frustrated because he thinks you’ll think he’s lying if he said he already did

Then Hermione finds you in the hall that day and asks if you put Draco up to apologizing to her and you admit yes you did. And she tells you that he apologized a few days ago. Your heart soars and you hug a confused Hermione before running off to find Draco

He’s in the corner of the library, not reading, but drawing. You accidentally sneak up behind him and see that you’re the sketch on his paper.

“I don’t think my hair is quite that long,” you whisper softly and the boy about jumps out of his skin. You apologize quickly and he quickly covers his sketch book, red faced.

“I um. That wasn’t you.” He stammers turning a darker shade of red. You laugh. “Yes it was!” You reach for his sketchbook but he hugs it to his chest. “Oh come on Draco? What am I gonna do? Laugh?” “You’re laughing right now.” He points out. “And it’s not that good anyway...”

You roll your eyes and sit next to him. You offer to pose for him so that he could take his time to draw you. “Well I’m not busy now,” you grin and he sulks a moment before nodding.

You watch his hands work and sift through the pencils as he props the paper up on his knees and instructs you to look somewhere and not to move.

It’s odd, being drawn. You close your eyes and hum softly knowing he was studying you the way he might a bowtruckle or mandrake and it feels weird. A good weird.

He refuses to let you see the drawing even though you persist. You pout and drop the matter, just glad to have a friend in him.

You begin meeting in the library on a weekly basis, partly so he can draw you partly because you’re both struggling in History of Magic and need more study time

Cedric is not happy about any of this and goes very “protective big brother” on you. You tell him off and huff.

You start going to his quidditch matches and maybe he almost runs into a goal post because you smiled and waved at him and he forgot to pay attention

The summer comes and you wave goodbye knowing as soon as he’s around your father you’re going to lose your fried.

But he surprises you and hands you his sketchbook on the train home then quickly runs away to his father and you just stare at it and him and he’s gone, all you see is two heads of silver blond hair receding in the distance

Your parents usher you into the car and it’s maybe two hours before you get to look at the sketchbook

When you do open it you see a sketch of a bowtruckle and “Steve” written one his careful script underneath. You had forgotten that you named the bowtruckle Steve that day in class

The next few sketches are from Herbology. And little notes about class that day, a lot of them are about you. Then there’s a break in Herbology drawings and there’s a drawing of his mother almost perfectly. Then of a family portrait of the three of them. A few vases of flowers. Then you see your face. And again. And again. It’s you. Smiling, laughing, concentrating on a book, raising an eyebrow at him, gnawing in your lip, asleep in class, then the library drawings that are much more detailed.

Then you’re crying and you want to call him and thank him but you CANT BECAUSE HE DOESNT HAVE A PHONE STUPID WIZARD FAMILY

But you do have an owl. You have no idea what to write. So you go with “thank you” and then send it.

You get a letter a few months later and it’s from Draco. He’s asking if you want to go to the Quidditch World Cup with him. “I know you’re Muggle and don’t like Quidditch much but...”

So you’re going with Draco and it’s weird because he’s on your doorstep with his mother and it is just a clash of worlds. You stammer goodbyes to your parents and you’re quickly ushered into the limo of a car next to Draco. You notice he’s changed his hair again and he looks quite dashing in his blazer. You get a little self conscious about your jeans and sweater.

Narcissa is a doll. She asks you about your summer and time as Hogwarts and keeps polite conversation and you thaw a little.

Though you have no idea what’s going on Draco is very excited about the game and is cheering and you can’t help but smile and maybe you take pictures with a Polaroid camera and he just rolls his eyes and you get a picture of him rolling his eyes

Fourth year comes and he is ushered away from you by his friends before he can say hi.

The kids from the other schools show up and you’re convinced that he like Fleur and he thinks you like Cedric and it’s just a mess

He’s back to being irritable and you’re slipping into depression not just because of him but everything is really weighing on you

You’re alone in the Astronomy Tower, your feet dangling off the edge. You had no intention to jump, but it was sort of thrilling. 

Draco flips the fluff out and nearly drags you from the edge. 

“What the hell are you thinking!?” He exclaims. You gape at him because it’s probably the first thing he said to you in a week. He’s just so scared that he was actually going to lose you that he pulls you close and doesn’t let you go. You start crying and everything just comes out in a word dump. Your brother is getting worse and stronger and it’s not good for you and he keeps putting you down and calling you a freak and that “no one is going to love me because I’m a freak and mom and dad think I’m fine because my grades are still fine but Draco I can’t... I’m slipping and... and I feel like I lost you and you were the only one who really believed in me and...” You’re just sobbing.

And he listens. He holds you and listens. 

“You haven’t lost me,” He whispers softly. “But you like Fleur... and I can’t ever be her... she’s just so perfect and powerful and...” You sniffle, hugging your knees looking at your beat up Converse. 

“She’s my cousin,” He almost laughs but doesn’t because of the look on your face. “And what about you and Cedric?” He raises an eyebrow and you blanch. “He’s like a big brother to me, gross,” You shove his arm and you’re both laughing. 

“There’s only one Hufflepuff out there for me,” He takes your hand and hello butterflies and blushing. “And there’s only one Slytherin for me,” You lay your head on his shoulder and watch the stars. 

You two start dating and Merlin his friends are livid because how dare he date a muggle hufflepuff? But then they watch him with you and it’s hard to deny that Draco is truly happy for once and they don’t want to take that from him

Your friends exchange bet money. 

Weekends filled with more games of “Too Muggle” and trips to Hogsmeade and Draco explaining wizard culture and you try to explain muggle culture but he just does not understand washing machines. You introduce him to muggle music and is thrilled that he loves ABBA. 

He makes everything hurt less. And it’s nice to feel wanted. 

Then Voldemort returns and everything changes and you weren’t ready for it. Draco gets cold and distant again and you try and try to get through to him but he doesn’t let you in. 

You end up screaming at him one night and walk out. He finds you curled up outside the Slytherin portrait, weeping not minutes later and carries you back inside to his dorm and apologizes and hold you and admits that he’s scared and he doesn’t want to lose you or see you get hurt

You both make an effort to find the sunshine in the proverbial dark times that linger through the next year. It means you become a but more calloused and jaded and he becomes a bit more optimistic and grateful. 

Pansy Parkinson doesn’t exist. It’s just you with Polyjuice potion to keep you safe from Draco’s aunt and Voldemort. It’s an easy charade to keep up. There are still quite nights when you’re yourself with Draco and he reminds you how much he adores the real you with his words and touch

If there’s one thing you don’t do, is break a Hufflepuff and that’s what Harry did after his sectumsempra and holy hell do you lose your cool.

Draco’s mother has to step in before you’re expelled for what you did to Harry

You nurse Draco back to health afterwards and never let Harry forget what he did, nor do you let anyone else forget it when they call him the chosen one

And Merlin does Draco love you for it

Draco can’t kill Dumbledore because your words are still in his head from second year “It’s not right to kill someone for any reason” and he just can’t disappoint you like that

You’re still kind. You’re kind to Luna when she’s locked up at the Malfoy Manor. You’re kind to the house-elves that attend to you. You’re kind, and value fairness and hardwork, but you will not put up with bullshit any longer. 

You and Draco stand with Hogwarts when the battle boils down to it. You give Draco your wand when he loses his to Harry.

When you go back eighth year, you advocate for the removal of the House System and write a very convincing argument against it. It takes about ten years, but the system is disbanded after one too many close calls and ruined lives

You also start a Support Group at Hogwarts for those suffering from mental illnesses and for those who have suffered abuse at home. 

You and Draco get married at the Manor. You wear your Converse. 

.

Want to read a more in depth Hufflepuff!Reader x Draco? Find it Here!!!

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Tags: @coffee-addicti @msmcsmutt @ravn-87@artemismohr18 @whygz @crazywritingbug @fuzzy-panda @bitemebro522  @zombiesnips-blog @jillanaholland @shookyungsoo @savingdraco @welcometomyworldwithoutrules @akari180 @slytherin-emerald @chaotic-good-gemini @memalfoy-spidey @theres-a-dog-outside-omg @queenfeatherwings @fanficflaneuse @go-whovian-universe @spicyshenanigans @darling-im-not-okay-i-promise @dietkiwi @katsukink @takemetothekingdom @strangerr-things @tmnt-queen @mccloudchloe @hxneybgb @justsomerandomgur @belcvayelena @moviesbooksandfandoms @howdycharlie @xtrashmouthxtozierx @cocochanelthepupper @ninacotte @braelynn-j @jiggllyy @honeymarvel @darcypottah @atomicpunkrock @thiccheerioss @lottie289 @boredashaeck @beautiful-pegasus @tceedlmao @deadlynyghtshayde @iconjuresnapeingrandmaclothes @anonymous034 @bi-andready-tocry @lunna-does-real-doodle @dragonsandbread @atomicwonderlandmentality @okaydraco @the–queen-of-hell @langdonzvoid @cmxreader @alienmotel @oh-itsnothing​ @tulippings​ @thestressedprincess​ @sunflowerxsadnessw​ @caps-wilsonn​ @fattycooter​ @angelotakunerd08​ @thisisahugemistake​ @fanficsigottaread​ @gweaslvy​ @okaydraco​ @strawberriesonsummer​ @ughjjloveme​ @honeymarvel​  @gaysludge​ @cleopatera​ @ray-of-sunrise​ @artist-bby​ @shadowsingeraxolotl​ @peters-legos​ @quillsareforwriting​ @ghostlytoadalmondhairdo​ @wollymalfoy​ @lilpieceoftoast @paper-cats​ @floweryjh​ @sdicapriox​

[pandorasbox341]

My art journey...

I wanted to make a post of my art journey so far! I’ve been drawing ‘seriously’ for 10 years now! I’ve never had any formal training in art. I just draw what I want and what makes me happy! 

Since I was a little kid I’ve loved drawing, but I’ve only started drawing seriously back in 2011 (I was 17). I picked up a pen and I didn’t put it down. I drew nonstop. Files and files full of drawings. I still have ring binders FULL of old drawings. I’d just buy a huge pack of printer paper and school art supplies. The cheapest things I could find. I still buy the cheapest art supplies! I loved ballpoint pens and coloured pencils! I didn’t know about references or art tips or anything like that, I just drew what I wanted. I didn’t care whether it was anatomically correct or anything, I wasn’t posting anything online by that time. It was mostly OC and fanarts. My main source of references were comic books. 

^^ Here are some pages from my OLD sketchbooks! These are from 2011-2013. I draw on loose papers and then I stick them in a sketchbook. Some of these were even drawn on linepaper. 

From about 2011 to 2013 I was experimenting with my drawings and just having fun and enjoying drawing.  I tried out every art medium. I loved painting with acrylics (again mostly cheap school supplies, back then we didn’t have fancy art/stationary shops in my town, now we do YAY!!). I tried charcoal once and it was a disaster!

In 2013 I opened my first art account on DeviantArt, that was the first time I started posting my art online. My very first post was a Frank-N-Furter acrylic painting. Here’s some drawings from back then. Some paintings, but mostly pencil drawings. 

When I started to explore DeviantArt and saw how other people drew and how good they were I got very intimidated. I started becoming more ‘serious’ about my art and I wanted to improve more.

I started out with realism. It was very hard and frustrating, but when I saw how realistically other people drew and how good their art was I wanted to do that as well. I was tracing a lot during this time.

In 2014 I became obsessed with My Chemical Romance, it was practically the only thing I drew! I was drawing traditionally and editing my drawings on the computer with a mouse.

In 2016 I became obsessed with Undertale and I drew it nonstop! Undertale helped me improve my art a lot and helped me explore more and try out new things. I was slowly getting used to editing my drawings on the computer, enhancing the colours, adding effects, erasing mistakes etc.

It was during this time that I moved away from the frustrations of realism and went back to my roots - CARTOONS!

In 2018 I fell in love with Invader Zim. Invader Zim was a huge influence in helping me become more comfortable with my own style and the way I draw.

In 2019, on my 25th birthday, I got my first drawing tablet, a wacom intous that I still use. It took a long time for me to get used to it and it felt like I had to learn how to draw all over again. It was really hard for me to get used to a tablet. I started out only using it to edit my drawings. It was way easier using a tablet than a mouse to fix my drawings! I slowly (and I mean SLOWLY) got more used to a tablet.

For a long time, I was very self-critical about my art style. Fandoms helped me realise that I don’t have to do realism or draw perfectly for my art to be ‘good’. These days I’m way more comfortable drawing and not caring whether my art is ‘good’ or not. But social media still has a way of making me feel inferior when I see others art. Usually, I try to ignore it, because there’s really nothing you can do about it. I’ve come a really long way with my art. It’s no picnic, I’ve cried and ripped papers to shreds out of frustration! But I’ve never stopped drawing. It’s really a matter of keep going and not stopping. It makes me happy to draw and I love doing it. But I’m also happy where I’ve got so far!  

[adminbryantsaki]

Tick Tock

(Hello there, I’m back with the Bnharem’s collab. This month is a Soulmate’s AU. I picked Aizawa. And decided to throw Hizashi at him then throw them into a closet to see what the results are. I hope you enjoy what I put together for you all. I don’t own Shouta Aizawa/ Eraserhead or Hizashi Yamada/ Present Mic. Horikoshi Kohei does. Here is where you can read all the other stories and art done for this collab. And here is my own master list. The banner was made by @nocturnalazura. If this isn’t your cup of tea, blend of spices, or brew of coffee, move on.)

Tw: ABO, mentioning of a heat/rut cycle, mentioning of male pregnancy, slightly abusive household.

Wc: 3,683

Aizawa stared at the timer on his forearm. It read about a week left before he would meet his soulmate. He had the entrance exam to U.A in a week. Would he meet his soulmate then? He didn’t know and at the moment he didn’t really care. He heard his dad call him to come down for breakfast before he sent him off to go training. He didn’t want to go training. He wanted to lay in bed and not have anything to do and not have to go anywhere.

“Shouta! Time for breakfast!” His dad called from the base of the stairs. He groaned and slid out of his bed and stumbled into the bathroom to get changed and help his brain wake up a bit before he had to face his father. He looked at the little bright green and red moon on the underside of his left wrist. He was glad that it was still there. He noticed some music notes appear on his arm like on a music sheet. He was a little confused by it but waved it off as something his soulmate doing. He finished getting dressed and pulled on a hoodie to hide the writing on his arm. He walked downstairs where his family was sitting having breakfast.

“Good morning, Shouta. Did you sleep well?” His mom asked as he sat down at the table. “I slept fine.” He spoke as he served himself some eggs and miso soup. He ate in silence before his father lowered his newspaper and addressed him. “Son, did you see that other boy in your dreams again?” He asked with a hint of venom in his voice that his son’s soulmate was another male. Shouta remained silent and looked at the moon tattoo on the inside of his wrist.

“Well? Did you or not? Answer when you’re spoken to, Shouta.” His father said harshly.

“Yes, I saw him again. I see him every night, dad. You need to get used to the fact that my soulmate is another guy!” Shouta retorted.

“Finish your food and get to training. You have to be ready for your entrance exam into U.A.” His father spoke. Shouta remained silent and ate his breakfast. He finished quickly and put his dishes into the sink before he went downstairs and began to warm up. He focused on the days counting down to when he would meet his soulmate and he could get to be free from his family.

§§§§§

Across town, Hizashi was walking down the street to a café that he liked to spend his time after school. He would mostly do his studying there or write out a script for a potential talk show he wanted to have one day. He also likes to draw so he would take his sketchbook and doodle as he thought of ideas for the talk show. He was waiting for his drink since the café’s policy was that you needed to buy something off of their menu to be able to hang out there. Hizashi didn’t have the best relationship with his parents and he seemed like a quiet kid. This was all because of his quirk. His quirk was connected to his voice, and he had a hard time controlling it. He came out of the womb with his quirk in effect. His parents were wary of him growing up and being frustrated or angry. That’s when his voice would get out of control and people within range of him would get injured. He hated hurting people that he cared about so unless he was in his room or their basement that his parents had soundproofed, he remained quiet and hardly spoke in case his quirk activated. He doodled music notes on his arm, not knowing that his soulmate was seeing them. A waitress came over with his drink and he silently thanked them and covered the mark on his neck as he received his drink. The mark that he covered was the Greek letter Alpha. He didn’t want anyone to think that he or his soulmate was an Alpha. He took a sip of his drink and pulled his sketchbook out along with his pencil. He closed his eyes and began to draw.

§§§§§

After Shouta warmed up, he decided to go on a run. This helped him think and clear his mind after his dad upset him.

When his tattoo appeared on his wrist when he was about 10, he was confused and showed his parents. They told him that the moon meant his partner would be a Luna. He was lucky that his soulmate was a Luna as they were rare in the world. His father was just as confused as he was and asked what a Luna was as he had never heard of one. His father took him to a doctor to have it explained. The doctor explained that a Luna was like an Alpha but they were able to conceive and have a litter like some Betas and Omegas did. His dad let out a sigh of relief that day that his son would be able to produce an heir. What if he didn’t want kids? What would happen then? Shouta tried to shake the thoughts out of his mind as he ran around the block again before he went inside. He grabbed his wallet and left the house saying that he would be back by dinner. He walked to his favorite park where several cats he knew hung out there. He went to the swing set and sat lazily on one of the swings before an orange tabby cat came up to him and brushed up against his leg. He reached down and petted its head and smiled. “You’re lucky to be free and not be tied down by a stupid quirk and a greedy father.” He spoke. The cat meowed and sat down. He slid down from the swing and scratched the cat’s head which he got meows of approval. He stayed there with the cat for a little while before he got hungry. He went to the sandwich shop down the road that he had gone to before, unaware of the cat now following him. He entered the shop and noticed the cat trying to sneak in. He knelt down and addressed the cat. “You have to wait out here, baby. I’ll bring something out for you.” He told the cat. They stayed and he went inside. He came back out a few minutes later with a fish sandwich that he shared with the cat. He then walked around town just to kill time before it grew dark. That’s when he began to head home. He walked through the front door and went up to his room just before his mom called him down to wash up. He washed his hands then helped set the table and helped his mom bring food to the table before he sat down. His dad was either down in the den or at work. He hardly was around, and when he was, he would say something rude to either him or his mom. He thanked his mom for working so hard and served himself some of the food. He ate in silence before his mom spoke to him. “How was your day out, Shouta?” She asked as they ate. “It was good. I met a new cat in the park. They followed me to the sandwich shop and I fed them part of tuna sandwich before I just walked around town.” He said in a neutral tone before he took a drink of tea.

“That sounds like an eventful day.” She responded. Shouta nodded and finished his food. He put his plate in the sink before he went up to his room. He grabbed a washable marker and wrote something on his arm to his soulmate. “Hey. How was your day today?” He wrote. On Hizashi’s end, the words appeared on his forearm and he frantically looked around his general area to find some kind of pen or marker to respond. He found a marker and wrote back. “It was fine. Spent some time at a Café drawing. How was yours?” He responded. “My dad still doesn’t like that you’re a guy and that we see each other in our dreams every night.” “Don’t listen to him. We can be happy together when we meet. How long does your timer say?”

Aizawa pushed his sleeve up to see the timer now saying six days. “Six days and change. So, we meet sometime in the next week. I have the entrance exam to U.A. what about you?”

“I’m applying to go there too! I hope we both get in.”

“Me too. I’m going to try and get some sleep. I’ll see you in my dreams.”

“Ok. Sleep well, Shouta. I’ll be there soon.”

He smiled and got changed for bed. He then slid under his covers and closed his eyes. He went to the dreamscape where he typically saw Hizashi. He went about laying in a field of flowers where he would stay until Hizashi joined him. He looked up at the sky and saw that it was filled was with stars. He gazed at them for what felt like hours until he felt someone slide next to him. He looked over and saw Hizashi laying next to him. He smiled softly and held his hand.

“I missed you,” Aizawa spoke quietly. “I missed you too,” Hizashi responded. “Can we just lay here quietly?” He asked. The blonde nodded and he propped himself up on his elbow and ran his fingers through Aizawa’s hair. Shouta hummed and leaned into his touch. Hizashi rubbed circles on the base of his soulmate’s skull which earned him a satisfied groan. He stopped and pulled away as he was afraid that he had hurt him even in their dream realm. Shouta looked up at him confused. “Why’d you stop?” He asked. “I thought I hurt you.” “You didn’t, it felt good. Keep going, please.” Shouta told him. Hizashi sat up and crossed his legs in a sitting position. Shouta shifted so his head rested in his partner’s lap. Hizashi massaged his head until he dozed off and woke back up thanks to his alarm going off. He groaned and held his head. Waking up from the dreamscape like that usually left him in a bad mood and he had a headache. He looked at his phone and saw that it was Saturday. He could sleep in today. He slid back under the covers and went back to the dreamscape. He was lucky to find Hizashi still there looking a little bummed out. “Sorry about that, my alarm went off. I can sleep in today. That means we have more time together.” Shouta said with a soft smile. His partner grinned and hugged him. They laid out on the grass and relaxed. “When we meet in real life, can you do the head massaging thing on me?”

“Of course. I can’t wait to meet you.” He told him and ran his fingers through his soulmate’s hair. He hummed and eventually laid down next to him and held his hand.

“Goodnight, Shouta. I hope you have a good day.” He said before he closed his eyes. Shouta closed his eyes too and woke up to his alarm waking him up. He opened his eyes and pulled his blanket a little tighter before he got out of bed and packed a couple things before, he sneaked out his window and went down the street. He sat down on a bench while he waited for a bus. He pushed his sleeve up and grabbed a marker before he wrote something out on his arm. “I don’t think I can wait six days. I want to meet you now.”

“Aren’t we supposed to wait? What’s going on? Why do you want to rush your timer? Is it something with your dad again?”

“I’m tired of the routine. I want to meet you and spend time with you. It’s getting too hard to not be able to touch you and hold you close.” He wrote back and held his head in his hands. “I’d come to meet you but I have my last music class today. I’m sorry Shouta.” He wrote back. Shouta looked up as the bus pulled up. He got on and paid his fare. He didn’t care where he was going. He just wanted to be away from his parents and his house. He sat in the back of the bus and leaned back. He watched as a few more people boarded the bus and the bus began to drive off. He looked out the window and watched the buildings and landmarks go by. He rode on the bus for a couple of hours before he got off at the mall and spent the rest of the day there. He did catch the bus home knowing he would be scolded for leaving the house without a word. He snuck back into the house only to find his father sitting at the table.

“Shouta. Where have you been today?” He heard his father ask. “Out. I needed to get away from here.” He responded. “You could’ve at least checked in and told us you were alright. You had both me and your mother worried sick.” “I can understand why mom would be worried. But why you? Was it because I didn’t come down and have you give me some kind of training schedule that would take up my whole day? I just want to be a normal kid.” He spoke. “You aren’t normal, Shouta. You have a wonderful gift. Your mother and I want the best for you.” His father said. “Did you ever think that I want this? That I want to have to wear an eyepatch for weeks on end until I can control my quirk out of one eye? I’m tired of it! I want to have breaks! I want to be able to go out and have fun either on my own or be able to actually make friends, did you ever think of that? Do you even listen to my teachers when they’ve told you that I haven’t been able to make friends at school because they only want to be friends with me because of my quirk and that’s it!” He let out. “Go to your room.” His father said. “I plan to!” Shouta yelled before storming to his room and slamming the door shut. He changed into nightclothes and flopped onto his bed and stared at the ceiling until he fell asleep and went into the dreamscape. He met again with Hizashi that night and he told him what had gone on between him and his dad earlier that evening. Hizashi listened and played with his soulmate’s hair as he talked.

“We have what? Five more days until we see each other? We can make it through this, Sho. Don’t worry. “Hizashi spoke and smiled. Shouta sighed and relaxed with his head in the blonde’s lap.

“I’ll do my best not to. I’m just glad we get to see each other every night… I have a question. If we weren’t soulmates... do you think we would be friends?” Shouta asked.

“Yeah! I think we would.” Hizashi responded and kissed his forehead. Shouta gave him a soft smile before drifting back to sleep.

§§§§§

The next five days went by quickly and soon it was the morning of the exam. Shouta grabbed his gym bag and ran downstairs to eat some breakfast before his mom would drop him off at the gate of U.A. He glanced down at his arm and the timer said about half an hour. He was excited and his dad could sense it. “What are you so excited about today?” He asked. “I’m excited for the exam dad,” Shouta responded as he ate his cereal.

“There’s something else. Are you going to meet your soulmate?” He asked. Shouta froze and looked up at him. “How did you know?” He asked. “I was the same way before I met your mother. Good luck on the exam son, I hope you make a good first encounter with your soulmate.” He spoke. Shouta thanked him and his mom drove him up to the gate. Shouta got out and checked his timer again. Only twenty more minutes before he would run into Hizashi. He felt butterflies in his stomach as he was both nervous and excited at the same time. He also had the feeling of wanting to puke his breakfast up. “Good luck, Honey. I’ll be back when the exam is over. Just text me and I’ll be here.” His mom said. He nodded and walked into the school. He was led to the gymnasium where they were given the introduction and rules to the exam. He swore he could feel his soulmate in the room. He pushed his sleeve back again and only fifteen minutes remained. He grabbed a pen and wrote something. “Where are you? I swear I can feel you in the room with me.”

“I don’t think I can see you. It's too dark in here. What training ground are you on?”

Shouta checked the little card he received when he was registered.

“I’m in B, what about you?”

“I’m in the same one. I guess we will see each other out there then?”

“Yeah. I’ve been waiting my whole life for this.”

“Me too.”

The instructions were given out and all of the students were told to get changed into whatever they were going to wear for the exam. Shouta got changed into his workout clothes and a basic form of a kind of scarf he used in his training to capture villains. He practically ran to the fake city where his soulmate, himself, and a few hundred other hopeful students were hoping to get into this school. He arrived along with a few others and looked around the small group trying to spot the blonde hair of his soulmate. He checked his timer again and only five minutes remained. He groaned and watched as other kids like himself arrived. He watched his timer count down and reach the last thirty seconds before he squatted down and watched the numbers tick down to zero. Someone was standing over him and he knew that the person standing behind him was his soulmate. His eyes widened and he stood up. “Hizashi?”

“Hi, Shouta. It’s nice to finally meet you in person.” He spoke.

Shouta slowly turned around and saw his face. He raised his hands shakily and cupped his face. He didn’t care if people were watching them. He let his bottled-up emotions pour out and hug his soulmate. “Hey, hey. I’m glad we could finally meet too. The exam is gonna start soon. “I know I just never thought I’d get to meet you, even if the timer ran out.” He told him. He pulled away and held Hizashi’s hands and looked into his eyes. He felt a weight lifted off his shoulders.

“You ready to go get into U.A.?” Shouta asked.

“You bet. Let’s do this!” Hizashi responded. §§§§§

After the exam was over, they were told that they would get letters in the mail in a few weeks as to if they got into the school or not. The pair were leaving the school when Shouta’s stomach growled. “Do you want to grab some lunch? I know a good place around here.” Hizashi suggested. “Sure. Let me text my mom.” Shouta responded as he pulled his phone out and told his mom that he was going to get some food with Hizashi and she responded wishing them to have a good time. They held hands going down the mountain and to a café where they got some food. They sat down in the café and talked for a bit. Shouta looked intensely at his soulmate. “Do you have a symbol somewhere on your body? I have a red and green crescent moon on my wrist. I’m guessing it means that you’re a Luna?” He asked.

“Yeah. I got a little ‘a’ on my neck. I was told that it means you’re an Alpha. I was told when I hit puberty and my dynamic manifested was that I’m a Luna. I don’t know if you looked it up or not but it’s a variant of an Alpha.” He explained. Shouta looked a little confused and leaned back. “So, you’re like me. But not?” “I have both a rut and a heat. So, in the future, I can have kids if we ever want any.” He spoke. Shouta blushed hard and hid his face. He then ate his food. Then they spent the rest of the day together. Shouta even got to spend the night at Hizashi’s place that night.

A few weeks later they both got their acceptance letters into U.A. The both of them celebrated by having a sleepover and then getting supplies that they would need in class. The day of them going to U.A. inched closer as they grew more in love. Shouta did spend one heat cycle with Hizashi before school started and he marked him. The mark appeared as a simple cat head.

They walked into school hand in hand. They were in for one hell of a life together.

The end.

[bogkeep]

Hey! I'm the one who asked the poorly worded art process question. I'm here to give it another try by being more specific. The problem is . . . that's hard. Because that was about a specific as I can get, since I kind of want to know everything about how your art works.

Big things, like how you come up with ideas, or how you design characters. But small things, too, like what tools you use for drawing, how you balance between traditional and digital art, and how you decide what color to use for your unique and beautiful line art.

I want to be more specific so you can answer, but the question in my head is too vague and broad for me to be specific about it. So . . . here are some subquestions of my question, I guess! Maybe that helps?

Sorry this is so weird, and thank you, your art is amazing

first of all, thank you so much <3

and yes, this is far more answerable! i hope i can satiate some of your hunger for insight without writing a whole book.

HOW DO I COME UP WITH IDEAS?

this is obviously going to be very different for everyone. i very rarely have to dig for ideas or sit down and brainstorm, unless of course i am trying to achieve something very specific, like fulfill art contest criteria or working on a commission. my brain is very visually wired, so a lot of my ideas literally just pop up in my head (i know of several artists with aphantasia - some people don't have any visuals in their head at all and I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT THAT'S LIKE AND I AM IN AWE OF THESE ARTISTS), sometimes i see a character or character design and im like HNNNG i need to draw them, or i just... have a concept i really want to Exist and i'm going to figure out how.

my biggest problem is that often, when i get an idea i want to DRAW IT, NOW NOW NOWNOWNOW, and that's just Not Feasible. sometimes because i'm Literally In Bed, sometimes because i have too many things i need to do or draw first... but i need to clear up space in my head, because my Urge To Draw will be like, beeping and whirring until i satisfy it... so i write it down on my TO DRAW-list! it's a real list that exists on my phone and i have to use it frequently. if i keep scrolling down i start finding weird notes that i have NO idea are supposed to mean anymore, but that's fine. i can't satisfy every Art Urge. sometimes i need to let them pass.

HOW DO I DESIGN CHARACTERS?

this one might vary a bit, but it can often be boiled down to "i sketch around until i figure something that Works." many of my characters, especially my older characters, became characters by accident when i kept drawing them over and over and i was like Ah I Like Drawing You... You Exist Now. that's how sparrow spellcaster happened, at the very least. this could happen because i had school and i would focus in school by doodling/sketching while listening to class. since i no longer go to school, pretty much all of my new characters are far more intentional. Timian and Vinta specifically exist as a result of a "favourite character fusion" challenge, and a lot of iphimery characters started with a Purpose rather than just harnessing the vibe of something i drew multiple times without thinking.

it helps to write down elements or tropes i want to include, like "sturdy-looking" or "VILLAIN OF EVIL SCARY MAGICS but it's a little girl and the dark magic is bright lightning and not shadows" or something. it can vary from a tiny visual detail to their role in the story. whatever i want to Achieve. my Intent. because my brain works so visually, i just really need to sketch somethign repeatedly until i nail it and can be like Yes That's It.

sketchbooks look a little messy but that’s what they’re for.

WHAT TOOLS DO I USE

for digital art, i’m currently using an ipad pro and procreate. i use a lot of the brushes that came installed, like Mercury is my primary lineart brush, and Moorilla is my primary sketching brush, but i also buy a lot of custom brushes on the hunt for More Delicious Textures (DAUB has a lot of good ones, especially if you want some that imitate traditional art). i have also used Huion and XP-pen tablets and generally recommend them, as well as clip studio paint as an art program (i love it very much and if it wasn’t subscription-based on ipad i would still be using it).

for traditional art, mostly just whatever sketchbook i have + my trusty mechanical pencil. i mean i have two: one with softer lead (it comes out darker) and 0,7 mm thickness, and one that’s 0,5 and harder lead for more light sketching, or if i’m going to line it with ink.

i also have a trusty pentel brush pen that i love DEARLY and feel bad for not having used in a while for reasons i will get to.

when i work on calendar pieces traditionally, i like to draw lines with ink - i use a dip pen with exchangeable nibs - and then color with watercolors. i have several sets because they’re all slightly different and i want the Range.

i sometimes travel with a little sketchbook in my bag and an assortment of pens, so that i can sketch Anytime, Anywhere. i think doodling with a pen can be very useful because you gotta become comfortable with the mistakes and imperfections and keep going anyway. if i doodle at work that’s the tools i have -  regular ball pens and a bunch of paper lying around.

HOW DO I BALANCE BETWEEN DIGITAL AND TRADITIONAL ART?

currently, i... don’t, really. it was easier when i had school, and i would just doodle freely and then maybe use some of my sketches as thumbnails or concept ideas. it’s harder now that i need to intentionally sit down with my sketchbook, and tbh... the ipad works very well for sketching. it’s so CONVENIENT and i have WORK all the time and my time to create art has become much more limited than it was. i miss going to my weirdo art high school where we would try out a whole bunch of different tools and methods. sure, yes, i had to paint with Acrylics My Beloathed, but getting to play around in different mediums is VERY valuable.

i genuinely want to be able to make more time and space for non-digital art again, but i just don’t have the ability to right now. it’s also different now that i’ve moved away from my parent’s place - i used to have an enormous desk and my mother has a large collection of art tools and there was a lot more storage space for whatever i created. digital art is very convenient and very accessible. ah well!

HOW DO I DECIDE ON THE COLOR FOR MY LINEART?

i usually line in black or a very dark color, and when i’m done coloring + shading i might play around with the colors and see what works. if you lock the layer you can just throw all the spaghetti at the wall you want. i decide on whatever fits the piece. i tend to be pretty fast and loose about it too, sometimes you can probably spot parts of my lineart that have slightly mismatchy color, but it’s like... done is better than perfect! i don’t have the energy to overlook every single pixel of my piece or else i would drive myself utterly mad.

HOPE THIS ANSWERS ANYTHING AT ALL!! THANKS FOR ASKING!!!

[imaginesmai]

Peter Parker - I’ll find my way to you(1)

Did I watch Far From Home and decided to write about it instead of doing responsable things? Of course. This will be a little different to what you’re used to do, becuase I’ll follow the movie and dialogues mostly, only that reader is the romantic interest instead of MJ. Hope you enjoy it, I’m really excited for this series!

If Tumblr fucks this fic up and doesn’t show the tags I’m suing them

Plot: Peter Parker couldn’t be more excited for the trip. It wasn’t only the best vacation he could dream of - I mean, Europe? Cool - but they also gave him the chance to spend more time with you, his new found crush that makes him stutter and blush. He should have known that something would get in the way.

-

Spider Man far from home featuring Peter Parker as a clueless, cute baby and reader, who is Bucky Barnes’ daughter and as badass as her father.

Warnings: far from home spoilers - but come on, you’ve seen it.

“I have a plan”

Peter all but fell on the chair, dropping his bag on the ground and making a few classmates look his way. He had just ran through the hallways, nearly colliding with a few people in his way. But if he wanted to talk to Ned before the class started, and the rest of the students came in, he had to be quick. Flash was talking about how the teacher had to grab some books from the library before starting the lesson, and he had took his chance; because lately, finding Ned alone was something weird.

Said boy looked at his friend with raised eyebrows, and put his notebook away. He had been making a list about the best ways to impress an European girl, something he didn’t want to forget. Ned was determinated to meet some pretty girl and impress them with his American accent; Peter had a hard time believing that, but he didn’t dare to break his hopes.

Before talking, he made sure there was no one around who could listen to their conversation.

“Okay, first. I’m gonna sit next to Y/N on the flight” Peter rushed his words out, and Ned hummed. “Second, I’m gonna buy a duple headphone adapter and watch movies with her, the whole time”

“Right” Ned nodded, his eyebrows furrowing as Peter kept talking.

“Three, when we go to Venice – Venice is super famous for making stuff out of glass, right?”

“True”

“So I’m gonna buy her a bright read star necklace, cause her favourite colour is red” Peter shrugged, moving his hands around. “And because of, well”

“It reminds her of her father, a worldwide recognised assassin but also the man who lives five blocks away from your apartment” Ned completed. “Didn’t he drive you to the last decathlon competition?”

“Yeah, her father” Peter nodded, not even blinking at Ned’s words. “Four. When we get to Paris, I’m gonna get her to the top of the Eiffel tower, give her the necklace, and then five, I’m gonna tell her how I feel. And then six hopefully she tells me… she feels the same way”

“Oh, don’t forget step seven” Ned crossed his arms in front of his chest, and Peter missed the sarcastic remark as he reached again for his notebook, where he had written down all the steps. “Don’t do any of that”

Brown, tired eyes met Ned, and the boy felt bad for about a second. It was obvious that Peter had been having a hard time in the last months; Tony’s death, the feeling of being on borrowed time because of the ‘blip’, and the pressure of being Spiderman in a world who needed superheroes more than ever. He could count with the fingers of one hand how many hours of good sleep he had gotten that week, and they were on Wednesday. Besides, he was also stressing with the stupid plan with the steps, and the final trip to Europe.

May had had the idea of writing down the steps. He had come to her – after Ned proved to be useless for it and Happy refused to talk about girls – when he had realized he had feelings for someone. Not just someone, but one of his new friends who shared with him more than just a friendship. Y/N Barnes, friend and work-colleague, talking about avengers. And of course, crush.

“Why” he sighed, not even asking. He thought of himself as a balloon that had just been poked with a sharp needle, and was slowly deflating.

“Because we’re gonna be bachelors in Europe, Peter!” Ned said, his voice too similar to a whine.

“Ned…”

“Look, I may not know much, but I do know this” he nodded at his friend to make sure he was still listening. “Europeans love Americans”

“Really?” Peter tilted his head and raised his eyebrows, knowing that probably Europeans didn’t really care about them. If he was European, he would sure not give a damn about America.

“And more than half of them are women!”

“Okay, sure. But… I really like Y/N” he gave him a tight smile. “She’s awesome. She’s super funny in a kind of a dark way. And sometimes I catch her looking at me and I feel like I’m – She’s coming – don’t say anything!”

Ned looked to his right, and indeed, another person walked in class. Betty waved from the door at you and you gave her a small smile, still not used to her and having so many teenage attention to yourself. Still, you made an effort and contributed to some of her conversations, although most of them were monologues. Again, that feeling that Ned had had about being wrong just moments ago came back when you looked at them and lighted up at the sight of Peter.

Not a lot of people noticed, but you were nothing like your father. The stereotype of a bad mean soldier died when someone talked with you for a few minutes. You were shy, liked puppies and colour pink, and even if your jokes sometimes crossed the line of personal baggage and were a little too dark, you were funny.

You clutched the big sketchbook to your chest and skipped towards your friends. Peter kicked Ned softly under the desk to avoid him saying anything about the plan, and Ned just chuckled awkwardly.

“Hi” you smiled at them, dimples on your cheeks that made Peter mess with the pen on the desk. “Excited about the trip?

“Hey. Uh, yeah” Peter tried not to make it too obvious that he was staring at you, so he looked at Ned. “We’re just – talking about the trip”

“Yeah, and Peter’s plan”

“You have a plan?” you raised your eyebrows, and Peter felt himself stopping breathing for a moment.

“I-I don’t… I d-don’t have plan”

“He’s just gonna collect tiny spoons while we’re traveling through all the countries”

The wink that he sent his friend wasn’t at all discreet, because to do so Ned moved all his face along with his left eye. Peter didn’t feel any better with the answer, if anything it made him feel a small pressure on his chest. He turned the pen around his fingers as he looked at you again, who thankfully, looked unsuspicious. In times like that he was grateful that you still hadn’t caught everything about the sarcasm and indirect intentions.

But even you, who spent more than half of your life locked in a cell and used as leverage for the winter soldier, knew that it was something weird to do. So you hummed and made a small grimace.

“Like a – like a grandmother?”

“I’m not collecting tiny spoons” he scoffed, pointing with the pen at Ned. “He’s collecting tiny spoons”

“Oh. Okay. Well… that was… a real rollercoaster”

Peter’s eyes drifted to your wrist as you moved your hands around, and his previous mood fell like a ton of bricks. He knew he should be thankful that you were allowed to come with them to Europe, since your father wasn’t welcomed in at least half of the countries. Thick, black bracelets fell on your wrist, a huge contrast to your delicate skin. They had a small red light that was always on, unless you broke one of the rules Thaddeus Ross had set.

He had been there when the secretary forbid you to leave the country, using words as ‘freak’ and ‘danger’. Between your father, Sam and a little bit of help of Pepper Potts, he had agreed as long as you carried the bracelets. Peter himself had threatened to go and talk to him too, rambling and speeding across the walls and ceilings as he traumatised May. But then, you had asked him to stay put, and he could never say no to you.

Peter bit his lip and tried to hide his discomfort at seeing your wrists. You had to endure enough from the rest of the classmates, and he would hate himself if you dropped that smile.

“By the way, my dad gave me some stuff for you” you changed the topic, digging into your backpack for something. A metal, clanking noise came from inside. “Told me you should have it since I’m not even allowed to cut an apple if I want to stay out of jail. In case something happen”

“What – don’t!”

Peter jumped out of his seat and pushed your hand back into the bag, careful of the sharp edges. He was too busy pushing the knives back into the bag to notice how your hands touched for more than one second, or to admire how your cheeks turned pink and you eyes went wide. You were so close that he could smell your vanilla scent, and you could see the wrinkles of his sweater’s neck.

The whole class seemed to disappear around as he finally noticed what he had done. Peter was always careful of not being too close to you, in case you could get overwhelmed – like in your first day of highschool – or feel uncomfortable. His own cheeks went red, and the tips of his ears started to burn. He pulled his hand out of your bag so quick that he got a scratch on his palm; not that he cared, as he jumped back to his seat and almost fell out of the chair.

“Did you bring knives to class?” Ned squealed out. A girl nearby had noticed, but she chose to turn away.

“Well, not knives” you tried to explain. “They are like – uh – daggers? Throwing daggers. Dad got them from internet, and some of them have dents so that when you stab someone –“

“Okay, class! I’m here!” the teacher cut your conversation, and a flow of students filled the class.

You quickly ran to your place at the back, besides another boy your age, and Peter tried to follow you as you moved. He could have sworn that you smiled when you passed his side, but he wanted it so bad to be true that he could have imagined it. Most of the times he thought you were looking at him in class, and when he looked at you, there was nothing to see. Sure, you liked to sit beside him at lunch time, and never turned down an awkward proposal for a “date” with Peter, although he was the only one calling them that, as nothing ever happened.

Still, he allowed himself a sweet second of happiness as he watched you greet your classmate and pull down your sketchbook.

“Dude” Ned chuckled behind him, and Peter stared with amused eyes. “I think that went really great”

-

“Yo, Parker”

Peter turned around and saw Flash calling him from the other side of the plane. He was sitting on the closest side of the window, but even from there he could see the boy’s smug smirk. So far, the whole ‘getting into the plane and not having any problem’ was going good. He had his headphone adapter on his right hand, and was preparing himself to tell Ned to change places with MJ and let him sit with you. The rest of the class seemed fine too, and he was enjoying the trip so far.

But of course not a lot of things in his life went right, and he felt his mood lower down a bit when Flash called him. He fidgeted with the adapter on his hands and nodded at him.

“This is called an airplane” Flash said, and to Peter utter mortification, you stopped right beside his seat to look at Flash. “It’s like the busses you’re used to, except they fly over the poor neighbours instead of driving through them”

“Madam?” a kind looking woman appeared beside Flash and looked at you, smiling. “He blipped, so technically he’s sixteen, not twenty one”

“I’ll take that”

“No – no she’s – s-she’s lying! I don’t even –“

Flash trailed behind the woman as he tried to take back the drink, giving you the nastiest look he could manage. Which wasn’t too big, as he was mostly embarrassed.

When you had first arrived to Midtown, two years ago after you father went to Wakanda and Tony – as a favour to Steve, who was like you uncle – let you stay with him and attend highschool, Flash thought you were pretty. He followed you everywhere you went, tried to win you over with the stupidest and most expensive details about his life and invited you to every party. Then, he noticed that you ignored him in favour of staying with Peter, who you had met in that airport fight. And from that moment, he liked to pretend he hadn’t liked you at all.

Once he was gone, you looked at Peter and gave him a small, shy smile. He smiled back, his face melting at the sight of you. He almost dropped the headphone adapter as he watched past by, if it wasn’t for Ned catching it in the last second.

“Classic of Y/N, right?” Brad Davis appeared out of thin air, following you into the airplane and making Peter drop his smile.

“Did you know Brad was coming?” he asked Ned once the boy was out; although he didn’t stop looking at him.

“It’s… so weird” Ned chuckled, looking at Brad too. “Like, one day he’s a little kid that cried and got nosebleeds all the time, and suddenly we blip back and he’s totally ripped and super nice. And all this girls are after him”

“Not all the girls are after him”

“No man, they’re all after him”

Peter felt a sudden weight on his chest that he couldn’t describe. Brad was helping you to put your handbag on the top part of the plane, apparently saying something funny; really funny, because you weren’t using that fake smile you put when you didn’t get what was funny or what people were talking about. The sound of your laugh usually made his stomach flutter, but that time it made him feel sick. He knew he was selfish for thinking that way – you were allowed to have friends, to be interested in someone, and to like Brad.

But he didn’t know all of that, it was just you laughing with Brad. He was so busy drowning in his own feelings that he missed how you looked at him once more before sitting beside MJ.

“Anyway” Ned went back to his bag, taking out his computer. “Onto more important things, it’s an nine hour flight. We play beast slayers the whole time”

“I need your help sitting next to Y/N” Peter blurted out, finally tearing his eyes away from Brad.

“Seriously?” Ned sighed. He left his computer on the desk and tried to look miserable to Peter, who was too busy already tearing his seatbelt away.

“Yes, seriously”

“What about our plan? American bachelors in Europe?”

“That’s your plan. That’s a solo plan. Come on, this is my plan” Peter tried to remember how May told him that he could get almost anything with those puppy eyes, so he put them on for Ned; who couldn’t be more unbothered by them. But Peter really, really wanted to sit with you. “Please”

Ned threw his head back and scoffed, leaving the computer back on the bag and tugging at his own seatbelt. Maybe the puppy eyes didn’t work with him, but Peter was glad to have such a good friend.

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