#I HATE DRAWING PLAID :[

[dandlioofdraws]

5. Minute artist meme

I was trying to find a drawing meme to do and I found this one! I thought I’d give you some information about my self and my drawing level!

[psykoe100]

coffee and a lecture or something ☕️

[eggsistential-breakdown]

Watched that m night shyamalan movie about the cringefail girl dad who gets stuck at a concert. the plot was holier than the bible and i have one hundred bones to pick with it but I had fun

Alternate versions based on trailer 2 under the cut

[embryoed]

When is he returning from the (karate) war

I love his outfits especially the ones in Seasons 1 and 2

[itsinkwell]

Oughh poor little meow meow who didnt have a childhood :[

makes him relive it tragically :]

[keeps-ache]

drawin prompt: video killed the radio star but theyre both obj heads (im going to draw it too!)

oh, welcome to the studio! you must be new here-

[transparent version below]

thanks for the prompt !! send me the link when you post yours !! :D

[hartanddoe]

so I drew Lottie 🦌♥️

[beezobop]

Wendigos

[theradicalace]

A2 with Cuddles for the paper doll fashion meme?

he’s such a tool (affectionate) <3

(i know the sunglasses weren’t in the outfit but they complete the look shhh)

[staledirt87]

Screw plaid I hate plaid I hate drawing it I hate shading it fuck plaid

[justablah56]

oh drawing flannel my beloathed :[

[vonlipvig]

graphic design is my enemy

[psykoe100]

Coffee time ☕️

[cryptidflow3r]

Yeet! Have some art!

Look at her! My precious creeper girl <3

ALSO she has a proper human name now! So that's neat!

Her lore will drop for you guys at some point. Still figuring some of it out right now. But I do have a kinda written out bit that I may post soon once I write it out digitally.

Butttt at the same time I feel like that written thing might also make a good comic thingy?

We'll see, I'm undecided.

[nyenyel]

[Image description: A drawing of myself. I have brown skin and straight black hair. I'm wearing a yellow headband and a yellow plaid dress. My hands are clasped together and I'm cheerfully saying: "I HATE love. Romance should be ILLEGAL. I hope all couples BREAK UP AND I'M GOING TO BLOW UP THIS BUILDING." The speech bubble is colored with the aromantic flag. End ID.]

I think romance sucks and we should all eat sand and cry 💚 /lh

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The House Guest 4

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: an old acquaintance calls in a favour, leaving you with an unexpected house guest.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

The drive into town, or the few shops that cluster together at the midpoint of the backroads, is quiet. As you lazily steer around the long bends. As you come in sight of the beer store banner, you squint into the rear view. Bucky’s been so silent, you’re half certain he’s asleep. 

He sits with his arms crossed as he stares out the window. His eyes could be closed. As you roll into the gravel lot, he clears his throat. 

“Not much to this place,” he comments. 

You give a start and shift into park, “nope.” 

He nods as he unbuckles his seat belt and sits up, “quiet.” 

“Very,” you agree. 

He makes no other comment as he gets out. You really can’t tell how he meant it. Does he like the quiet? Hate it? Does he long for the New York rush? 

You push yourself out of the car and head for the front door. He steps ahead to get the door and you thank him. It’s not too unusual. A lot of the men in their plaid fleeces insist on doing the same. You enter and greet Dustin behind the counter. 

“Foster sending you ‘round again?” He asks. 

“Mr. Foster’s drying out. At least his wife says so. And I told her I wouldn’t bring him anymore gin.” You explain.  

“Ah, you got company,�� Dustin comes to the end of the counter, “Dustin, and you?” 

He holds out his hand. Bucky shakes it with his gloved one and introduces himself. 

“Ha, boy, fingers’ cold already? Must not be from around here.” 

Bucky sniffs and drops his hand. He has both covered. It’s probably best he not draw attention. 

“Yeah, came up from the States,” he says. “Not a fan of the Canadian beer though.” 

“Ah, you like piss water. Well, head to the back, you’ll find that yankie river water.” 

You chuckle and shake your head. You go down the middle aisle and Bucky catches up to you with a grumble. You notice his glower as he peruses the cases. 

“Don’t take it to hear. That’s just Dusty. If you’re a hockey fan, don’t mention it unless you wanna hear about the Leafs for an hour.” 

“Right,” he nods and grabs a green case. “More of a baseball fan.” 

“Don’t mention that either. He’s a Jays fan.” You head down the far aisle and peruse the smaller bottles. That should be enough. 

“Thought you don’t drink,” he comments as you pick out the brown bottle. 

“Rumcake. I’m gonna check in on the neighbours later this week. Make sure they’re okay. Plus, you add a bit to some fried bananas. It’s great.” You explain. 

He drones again and clicks his tongue. He probably doesn’t care much about the neighbours or your mother’s rumcake recipe. You go to the counter and put the bottle down. As you reach into your pocket, Bucky leans the case on the edge. 

“Charge hers with mine,” he takes out his wallet and slips out some bills. 

“You don’t have to do that.” 

“Least I can do,” he insists and hands over the money, “Sir, you keep the change.” 

“Boy, this is a beer store, we don’t take tips,” Dustin scoffs. 

“Then put it in that charity box,” Bucky shrugs and hauls up the case. “Got somewhere else to go?” 

You take the bottle and say goodbye to Dustin before you follow. 

“Groceries,” you say as you follow him out. 

You fish around for your keys. What pocket did you put them in? You stop beside the driver’s side and search for them. Of course, you locked the car. 

Frustrated, you set the bottle on the car roof. You look down as you continue to pat your jacket. You finally find them and then you hear it. The subtle friction of the bottle slips down the curve of the roof.  

You panic and try to catch it. As you do, you press against the wall that appears behind you. Bucky reaches over your shoulder as he saves the bottle. You get your keys free and teeter between him and the car. He backs up. 

“Got it,” he says. 

“Uh, thanks,” you hid your discomfort. You weren’t expecting him to be so close. 

He easily carries the case under one arm and takes the rum with him around the passengers side. You unlock the doors and he opens the back to put the alcohol in front of the seat. You swing into the driver’s and get yourself situated. 

You’re overthinking. He probably didn’t even realise how awkward that was. You put your keys in the ignition as he drops in through the opposite door. 

“Real friendly around here,” he remarks as check the rear view. 

You reach over to grip the passenger seat as you crane to see behind you. By accident, you grab his shoulder. He grunts and you release him quickly, grabbing the seat instead. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

“It’s fine,” he shrugs and you slowly reverse, hooking around to put your car straight.  

You rescind your hand and turn forward, steering out of the lot and down to the next street. There, the grocery store is a bit more lively with the early risers. You draw up and park again. You get out and he follows suit.  

He grabs a cart before you can. You’re not sure if he’s being overly helpful or what. You walk beside him toward the front doors. As you do, Cathy comes out with a paper bag in her arms. Before you can hide, she shrilly calls your name. Great. 

“Oh, haven’t seen you lately,” she smiles beneath her fuschia lipstick. “Oh my,” her heavily lined eyes flick to Bucky, “and who is this? Don’t see a lot of new faces in Caribou.” 

You glance over at your escort as he stops the cart. 

“This is Bucky. He’s visiting Canada.” You say. 

“Visiting? Oh, how wonderful,” she walks up the side of the cart, squinting at him. She never wears her glasses. “Ah, look at him. Strapping.” She grabs his square jaw. 

“Um, Bucky, this is Cathy.” 

“Look at those eyes,” she squeezes him so her acrylics sink into his cheeks. He looks stunned by her latch on him. She is one of a kind, especially around there. 

“Uh, nice to meet you,” he speaks stiffly as she stands on her toes to inspect him. 

“About time you found yourself a handsome young man,” she lets go and he brings his hand to his cheek. 

“Cath, it’s not like that,” you chuckle. “It’s nice seeing you but we gotta grab some stuff.” 

“Oh, don’t let me stop you. Oh, the pharmacy got some of those new ones. You know... the ones with the ribbing,” she winks. 

You take a moment to catch her meaning. Your lips part but you don’t have much of a response. Bucky shifts beside you. 

“Gotta be safe,” she smirks, “anywho, if I was you, I’d be in a hurry too.” 

You set your chin and grab the side of the cart. You pull it along and Bucky goes with it. The silence is stifling. 

“She was nice,” Bucky says as you enter the store. 

“She’s... Cathy. Don’t mind her,” you say as you stop at the shelf of pears. 

“Been a while since anyone called me young,” he snorts as he lingers with the cart. 

“Well, around here, you might just meet a few of your peers. Or close to,” you mutter, paying overly much attention to the pear. You’re too embarrassed to look anywhere else. As usual, Cathy has to make her little comments. “You mind grabbing some maple syrup? I uh... I’m almost out?” 

He doesn’t respond right away. He wheels the cart up in front of you and backs up, “think I can manage that.” 

As he turns, you almost feel bad. You don’t want to treat him like an errand boy. You just need some space. You’re still getting used to someone else being around. All the time.