#I actually sketched this out forever ago

[cuchufletapl]

READ FROM RIGHT TO LEFT

For Edling Week 2024. Day 1: arrival / kiss / spark / dawn

That time when you go meet the people that you allied yourself with to capture a homunculus and you get caught off guard by how soft the usually contentious alchemist boy looks when he's just awoken.

(Image description in ALT)

@edling-week

[luck-of-the-drawings]

!!! FLASHING LIGHTS WARNING!!! [IM NOT FUCKIN AROUND!!]

REACHED THE CUSP OF 'THIS MAY NEVER BE ABSOLUTELY FINISHED N IF I DONT SHOW IT NOW, IT WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY.' SO HERE, A PROJECT IVE BEEN ORBITING AROUND UHH SINCE 2021 OR SO.

[automatonknight]

id: a digital drawing of a blue engineer and walenty-an original character. walenty is pale, has long, black hair with horns, a tail and claws. he's wearing square glasses, fingerless gloves, a green, floral shirt over a black tank top and black shorts and shoes. kit is holding a fishing rod in kits right hand. engineer is wearing his hardhat and goggles, a blue shirt, dark blue overalls and brown boots. he also has a fishing rod swung over his shoulder. he and walenty are walking next to eachother, with walenty on the left and engie on the right. the background shows a pine forest. end id

[llitchilitchi]

the priest-emperor and his champion

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 29 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

-You dare not put it down on the big tablet on your easel where John will see, but you can’t stop yourself from drawing it out in your smaller sketchbook-journal that is easier to squirrel away under clutter, putting down marks like you mean to exorcise her from your memory. You draw her like a ghost in her field of happy white flowers, and write in the margins in your looping script, I’m sorry. I don’t know how to make him forgive you. You want me to save him but I don’t know how. I don’t fucking know how.

Maybe she’ll actually hear your plea and do something useful about it, like haunt John’s dreams instead of yours.

Maybe you’re losing your damn mind. 

You find that either way, you’re not brave enough to mention her to your captor again.

She becomes an obsession, and you keep drawing her in your little sketchbook. You’ve only ever seen one picture of her. It was in the den, but has since disappeared. Still, you feel you know the lines of her face, the brightness of her eyes. You go back to your old fixation with the ladies of Mucha, sketching her out as the Lady of the Daisies with flowing auburn hair surrounded by her stylized flowers and flowing lines.

You strive to cover your true fixation by putting down anything as quickly as you can on the easel, knowing your captor will be by for inspection. You draw sunflowers, your favorite summer bloom, something fun but you can do with your eyes closed with colorful, juicy strokes of oil pastels. You hope to keep John off the scent of the book that holds your heartfelt neuroses that you bury under piles of all your new art supplies and anything else you can find.

It was stupid, of course, to think you could really hide anything from him.

One day you find him in the chair with his legs crossed, perusing your sketch journal with one of those magnificent thunderheads of a frown.

You are certain you are fucked, when he asks, “Is this your idea of a joke?”

Trembling as you imagine what he’s going to do to you for this infraction, you answer truthfully, “No.”

He closes the book with a snap, crossing the floor to stand before you, his powerful body moving deceptively slow, the way a tiger appears slothful in the jungle.

You know he can snap you up with one bite.

You cannot stop shaking, as he peers down that straight nose at you, pinning you with black eyes that somehow burn. He does not touch you, but God. He sees everything. You just know that he sees everything, and you find you are terrified of how he’ll react.  

“Have you been snooping through my things?”

“No.” The irony of him holding your sketch diary is not lost on you, but wisely you hold your tongue.

“How did you know what she looked like?”

“You had a picture out of her, ages ago.” At least, it felt like a like a lifetime ago.

“How did you know about the daisies?”

Now you know he’s going to flip his shit. It sounds fucking absurd, even to you. Your voice can barely rasp past what feels like dried twigs in your throat to whisper, “I saw them in a dream.”

You expect him to scoff and call you a liar. But he just searches your face, his eyes a little too wild for your liking. Here we go. He’d been damn near stable the past few days, but surely this will set him off.

You close your eyes, unable to watch the unfolding of your doom. This is it. He’s going to lock you up forever. You’ll never see the light of day again. The trembling in your frame kicks up to ten, and you hug yourself just to have something to hold on to.

When his next question comes, he could push you over with a feather.

“What does she say?”

You shake your head, realizing your cheeks are wet with tears.

“Nothing. She just…offers me the flower.” Going for broke you add, “She looks so sad.”

It is the sound of tearing paper that opens your eyes; with horror you find John making confetti of your art nouveau sketch that took hours to do. However, any protest dies on your lips—if destroying the drawing appeases him, maybe he won’t take it out on you.

Without another word, just a hard look, he stalks from the room.

Only when the sound of his footsteps fade down the hall do you let out the breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, your knees quivering like leaves in a storm.

However, you are not foolish enough to believe you’re in the clear just yet.

-Later, there is no dinner. You find the kitchen cold and empty. Not sure what to make of this, you graze in the fridge, before returning to your bedroom. Not sure where John has gotten off to, you shower, then go to bed, finding yourself lying awake in the dark without him beside you, almost itchy without his steady presence in the evening at your side.

Part of it might be that you fear something is brewing, and you can’t stand the waiting…but part of it might simply be that you miss him, as fucked up as that is.

In the end, against your better judgement, you go looking.

You search the house, until the only room that is left is the garage. Silently you open the door, slipping through without a sound. You too are learning how to move quiet as a wraith. The smell of rubber and oil assaults your nostrils. Classic rock is playing low on the radio. In the far bay, the hood of the Mustang is open, and John is bent over inside, wrenching on something and muttering to himself. There is a partially empty bottle of Blanton’s Bourbon on the workbench behind him, and an empty glass.

Unable to stop yourself from committing what perhaps might prove to be suicide, you creep to the other side of the Land Rover, using it as cover as you eavesdrop on this man grumbling to the ghost of his deceased wife.  

“What do you want from me? I loved you. I loved you with every fucking fiber of my being, but you left me. I died with you the day you left me, and she is the only thing that makes me feel alive again. I need her, and she never would have come to me on her own. She never would have stayed. She never would have stayed.”

He says this to himself over and over, and it wrenches your heart, because you know it isn’t true.

You think you manage to creep back out again without him noticing, Led Zeppelin on the radio disguising the sound of the door.

When at last he comes to bed and wraps you in his arms, holding you too hard for comfort, you feign sleep, smelling the bourbon fumes on his breath. You can’t help but tense, wondering if he will forget his promise this deep in his cups.

But he just sighs into your hair, crushing you as he pulls you even closer, and you don’t know why it breaks your heart all over again.

[drewsephrry]

memories

Harry Styles x reader

Inspired by: Memories-Conan Gray

Warnings: alcohol consumption, yelling, crying (idk if it counts as a warning) cuss words

Words: 2.7k

It was a rainy autumn night. She had a random movie playing in the background just to comfort her. She hated rain with passion. She hated that she was all alone and the only thing she could do to distract herself from it was look at old pictures.

Pictures from her childhood that were much too nostalgic for her, trying really hard to remember the name of the girl braiding her hair. Pictures from her vacation with her best friends from the previous summer, matching flower crowns and seashell necklaces on display. Pictures with her previous lover, that if she saw just two months ago she would cry her heart out but instead she smiled and reminisced about the tattoo he had let her draw on his skin shown in the photo.

It was a random Thursday night, the couple was chilling with their friends when Zayn told them that he had just acquired a tattoo gun. Harry was thrilled with the idea of putting more ink on his skin and even more so when Niall suggested that he let Y/N draw one on him.

Y/N had almost immediately shook her head in denial but Harry begged and begged until she sighed, defeated.

“Harry, you do know you're going to be stuck with it forever?” She warned.

“Yes, my love. Stop worrying about everything.” He tries to reassure her once more.

“But H, what if I mess it up? Or-or even worse we break up and you have it on your skin for the rest of your life?” She started asking with shakily hands, stuttering and failing to breathe properly.

“Y/N, honey, breathe. You'll be fine. Okay and what if you mess it up? That would just make it even more special to me. I love you and I completely trust you.” He puts his hands on her shoulders, trying to calm her down. “I'm not planning on breaking up with you anytime soon, maybe even ever. Unless you do and you're trying to let me down slowly, I don't see anything wrong with you tatting me.” He reassures her once again and she sighs, nodding. Harry smiles widely and pecks her lips, before pulling his long hair up in a bun.

After sterilizing the equipment and Zayn showing her how the gun works, she was ready. She didn't feel like it, but Harry squeezed her hand three times, their way of expressing their love to each other without actually saying anything.

She asked him multiple times, as the tattoo gun hit his skin if he was in any pain and if he needed anything, but Harry told her repeatedly he was fine and was praising her for her light touch.

After just a few minutes, the sketch, she had done on a random notebook Zayn had in his apartment, was brought to life.

A palm tree on the backside on his upper arm was delicately outlined and filled by her. She grabbed the handheld mirror that Zayn gave her and held it so Harry could see the work she did.

“Do you like it? If you don't, we can find something to cover it up with and I'll pay for it.” She suggested immediately, worried because he hadn't spoken yet. But the truth was he was mesmerized by it.

“I love it. It's so simple but yet done so beautifully. Thank you, my love. Thank you so so much.” He said kissing her lips. She smiled and sighed once again.

“Thank you for trusting me with this.”

“Well, you know what they say. Tat for tit!” He exclaimed jokingly, trying to lift her shirt when Y/N pushed his hand away giggling.

“You're such an idiot!”

Suddenly, she heard a knock on her door. She stopped gazing at her phone and another knock was heard. She got up from her couch cautiously. It was really late and it was pouring outside. Who could it be?

She grabbed the pepper spray from her handbag, as another knock was heard. She clutched her phone, close to her chest, ready to call the police.

She looked through the peephole and saw the one person she didn't expect to.

Harry was standing there, his hair sticking on his forehead and his clothes soaked.

She quickly unlocked the door and gasped.

“Harry, what are you doing here?” She asked, worried and confused.

“Need to talk with you, angel.” He slurred, an obvious sign he was drunk. He was pouting and his glossy, his green eyes were bloodshot telling her he was crying. His cologne was overcome by the smell of tequila. Y/N couldn't do anything else than open the door wider and gestured for him to come in.

She closed the door behind her and walked to her kitchen to pour some water for him, in hopes that he would sober up a little. He followed her like a wet and lost puppy that she couldn't turn away.

He takes a gulp of the water she hands him and smiles at her. She looked so cute and tiny compared to him, her hair was a little longer and her skin was still tanned from summer.

“I love you so much Y/N/N. I never wanted to hurt you.” He slurred again.

“But you did, H.” She couldn't tolerate standing there and listening to him pour his heart out when he broke her own a few months ago.

Y/N had started getting better. Getting over him. She was considering starting dating again. But seeing him like this made it so hard for her to think. Think about how fucked what he did and said was.

“Please, my baby, my love, listen to me. I made a huge mistake.” He was pulling his hair and trying to balance on his own two feet. He stumbled and fell to the floor, Y/N immediately reaching for him to make sure he was alright.

“I have missed you. I can't sleep without you. I barely eat anymore. I-I…don’t know what to do without you.” He confessed, tearing up. He pulled his knees up to his chest as he sat with his back on one of the kitchen cabinets.

Y/N was nodding, feeling upset and guilty she made him feel like this.

“H-Harry…I don't know what to say. Please, don't cry. You can stay with me tonight. We'll be fine.” She bent down to be eye level with him, comforting him and hugging him tightly. Neither one of them could deny how safe they felt in that moment, in each other's arms.

Y/N knew she was making a huge mistake, something her therapist won't be able to help with, something her friends cannot support and mostly she cannot expect any one of them to be there to pick up her pieces when everything would break down again.

Harry was led to her bedroom and she helped him lay down, removing his articles of clothing that he claimed felt like lava on his skin.

“Why were you all alone? Don't you still hate the rain?” He asked, getting under the covers of her bed, his eyes slightly closed. Y/N nodded and walked towards her side of the bed.

Y/N laid beside him, wrapping her arms around his back and to his front. He squeezed them three times, before quiet snores were the only thing heard.

How could she say goodbye to him again, when he just spent an entire night with her?

That morning Y/N woke up to an empty bed. She walked out to her living room, to see that she was all alone.

He had left her.

She walked to the kitchen with an ache in her chest and saw a plate with a stack of pancakes with maple syrup on her kitchen counter for her to indulge in.

She ended up spending her whole day crying and watching ‘The notebook’.

The next day, when Y/N's therapy appointment was scheduled, she told her about the night she spent with Harry, how she felt safe and for once, after a few months, slept like a baby and through the whole night.

Her therapist scolded her about her poor choices and talked to her about stepping forward.

A few days passed since Y/N's and Harry's last encounter. Y/N was getting ready for her best friend's birthday party when a knock was heard on her door. She yelled that she'll be right there, thinking it was the delivery guy with her food.

She grabbed her wallet and ran to the door with a wide smile on her face. Although when she opened the door, it was wiped away quickly. She swallowed and looked at Harry's green eyes.

“I missed holding you.” He slurred. Y/N was already running late to help her best friend with the party preparations. She was planning on getting there first out of everyone, to blow balloons and hang the garlands she had bought. But her meal hadn't arrived in time and now, this was happening.

She opened the door wide and he entered, he walked and sat down on her couch with a thump. He giggled at the sound he made and got quickly distracted by the show on her TV.

Y/N groaned and tried to keep in her mind what her therapist, mom and best friend told her.

“It's hard to find an end to something that you keep beginning, over and over again.”

“Hey, come look at this! Monica got stung by a jellyfish!” He giggled, getting comfortable on her couch.

She cursed under her breath, thinking how he would fuck up her progress in getting over him. Now twice. She grabbed her phone from the coffee table and walked in her bedroom to call her best friend.

“I'm really sorry, but I won't make it tonight.” She lied.

“What? Y/N, it's my birthday! You can't miss it.” Her best friend had furrowed her eyebrows, even if Y/N couldn't see it.

“I love you so much, I'll explain everything another time. And I am really and truly sorry.” She apologized again.

“Don't tell me he's there again.” Her best friend groaned and Y/N sighed.

“Y/N/N, he's no good for you. He's going to hurt you again. He's going to keep coming back since you're not turning him away. This is a never ending cycle, babe. Think about all the trauma he put you through. You need to put him in the past and move on.”

Y/N sighed defeated. Her best friend was right.

“Again, I'm really sorry.” She apologized one last time, before hanging up the phone. She walked back to the living room, where he was laying on the couch watching as Ross yelled ‘We were on a break!’. Harry chuckles at that and looks up to find you standing a few feet away from him.

“Care to join me, my beautiful girl?” he asked, making space for her and she smiled sadly as she nodded.

“Let me take my heels off really quick and I'll be right there.” She assured him, going inside her bedroom again, untying the straps from her heels and sitting down on her bed to catch her breath. She felt like throwing up. She felt her chest heating and that she was unable to breathe.

One, two.

One, two.

In, out.

In, out.

She was calm again.

The doorbell was heard, so she got up and out of her bedroom to find Harry already at the door.

“Stay the fuck away from her!” His slurred British accent alarming you. You ran quickly at the door and pushed Harry away from it.

“I'm really sorry about him, he's not feeling well. Thank you for your service!” Y/N tipped the now scared delivery guy, grabbing the bag of food from his hand and closing the door quickly. She pressed her back on it and sighed loudly.

“Don't be upset with me. He just wanted to get in your pants. I was trying to protect you. I always will.” Harry's eyes filled with tears once again. A laugh track was heard and she sighed again.

“It's okay, H. I'm fine. We're fine. Let's go eat!” She grabbed his hand and he smiled, wiping his eyes.

They spent the rest of the night cuddling on her couch.

The next day, he was gone again. She opened her phone to see multiple texts and calls from her best friend, telling her not to worry and that she would forgive her for bailing on her.

Y/N ignored all of them, including her therapist's email to confirm their weekly appointment. She knew that she would be disappointed to hear that she's taking more and more steps back.

A week later, she still hadn't heard a word from Harry and she waited for his appearance on her doorstep.

And there he was, a loud knock on the door startling her from the cookies she decided to bake as a stress reliever.

She ran to the door and opened it to find him there. He looked a little bit better than the last times he visited her, although he still reeked of tequila.

“Hello, my love.” He said, approaching her to kiss her lips. But she pulled away and shook her head. She opened the door wider for him to enter. He did and walked to the couch, sitting down and removing his shoes, already getting comfortable. Y/N couldn't take it anymore.

“We need to talk. I don't care if you're sober or drunk as fuck, but this has got to stop.” She said upset.

“What's bothering you baby? I can kiss it better.” He giggled and made grabby hands at her.

“Harry, I am serious. You can't keep doing this. There's no good reason to believe that we could ever exist again. I cannot be your friend. I definitely cannot be your lover. And I cannot be the reason we hold back each other from actually falling in love with someone else.” Y/N felt lighter after telling him exactly how she felt.

Harry felt a lump growing on his throat, his eyeline was gathering tears and he felt his chest tightening. Suddenly his head was clearer and he wasn't under the influence of alcohol completely.

“I just…you can't keep showing up, especially drunk, ruining everything. Expecting me that I would just take you back. You fucking traumatized me Harry. You broke my heart. And I'm trying so hard to forget you, to put you in the past and you're not letting me do that. You're just too busy playing the victim and acting like you are the one who's hurt, like you're the one that has a specialist taking care of you and your feelings. Can you just for once listen to me and stay the fuck away from me? Just…stay in my memories.”

She felt tears rolling down her cheeks, she didn't even notice she was crying. Harry looked down on the floor, sniffling. Y/N wiped her tears and sat down beside him.

“Since you came all the way over here, I'll let you stay. You can stay as long as it takes, but this is the last time. When you're going to leave, you're taking all of your books that you have left, your coat that’s still in my closet and that good cologne that you have left in my bathroom and it haunts me. It's still on my clothes and pretty much everything that I own and it makes me…feel like dying. I mean, I'm barely surviving as it is.”

Harry was feeling like his heart was being stabbed over and over again. He hadn't realized how much damage he had done to Y/N. He didn't want her to feel that way anymore.

He got off from her couch and walked to her bedroom grabbing his coat, the cologne from the bathroom and gathered the books from her bookcase, putting them inside a tote bag, which was also his.

“I'm not gonna bother you anymore. I-I am really sorry for the damage I did. I never meant to hurt you. I love you way too much and…I know what I'm saying is not gonna change anything but I needed to get it off my chest. I wish you only the best, my lo-Y/N. And I'll always be there for you, if you ever need me. But I'll just stay in your memories.”

He kissed her lips once. Twice. Three times.

When he pulled away both of them had tears rolling down their cheeks, their eyes were red and their lips swollen from the kisses they shared.

“I guess this is goodbye.” Harry whispers. “For now.” He smiled and Y/N nodded.

“Goodbye H. Take care.”

A/N: just a lil valentines day gift lol, this was heartwrenching to write, hope you all enjoyed and cried with me

[frudoo]

Goddess — Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Retired Johnny focuses on his art. His favorite muse? You, of course.

Warnings: Slightly smutty, very suggestive. Plus size reader (female). Body image issues mentioned. Shitty Scottish (PLEASE give me feedback, I wanna get better!!)

I’m not gonna lie y’all—I’m not too proud of this one. The idea was perfect in my head but my fingers did not want to write it </3

MDNI

A shudder escapes your pouty lips with every drag of his vaseline-coated fingers across your soft body. Johnny’s excuse was to tell you that your skin needs to be prepped before he could do anything, but that was ten minutes ago and he’s been massaging your breasts for five, now. Finally, he pulls his hands away after giving your nipples one more flick for good measure. He chuckles at the breathy whine you let out.

     “So eager, bon’. Cannae even handle a bit o’ prep?” The cocky bastard teases, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose before turning around and grabbing the plaster bandages off of his desk. 

     This all started when you made the mistake of telling your beloved husband that you were feeling down. The demons had gotten louder the longer you stared in the mirror, and Johnny had walked in right as the first tear fell down your round cheek. He let you cry in his arms, kissing your forehead and murmuring into your ear about all of his favorite parts of you. Turned your tears of self-loathing into glistening proof of ecstasy with his face buried between your thighs, leaving no room for doubt about just how much he adores you. He told you his idea while you were curled into his side, slick with sweat and pleasantly fucked-out. 

     That’s how you ended up here: sitting on a stool in his workspace, naked and compliant (just how he likes you, he joked). The body cast, of course, was his idea of making you feel better about yourself—at least, that’s what he told you. The truth was that he’s utterly obsessed with you. The ring on your finger and the home you shared wasn’t enough for him. He wanted—needed—to be surrounded by you in any way, shape or form. No matter how many paintings or sketches or statues of you that littered the house, he wasn’t satisfied, always convincing you to sit all pretty for him so he could recreate the most beautiful work of art he could think of. 

     Johnny starts on your breasts, coming as no surprise to you. The plaster strips are cold and tacky against your supple skin, and it makes you grimace. He takes his time molding the pliable medium to fit you perfectly, nimble fingers working restlessly to exact the curve of your perky nipples. He hums while he works, biting his tongue between his teeth in pure concentration, dismissing the whines and annoyed sighs you let out. 

     “Haud yer wheesht, bon’! Willnae take long. Lass loves the attention,” he scolds, but the shit-eating grin on his face makes you huff louder. 

     “I still don’t understand why you’re doing this,” you purse your lips, fighting the urge to cross your arms over your torso—his new favorite canvas.

     “Ah jus’ want tae show ye tha’ yer body shuid be in a museum. Ah ken ye’re bonnie, but ye dinnae, so ah’m gunna prove t’ye wha’ a goddess ye’re.” Johnny explains softly, those sparkling blue, oceanic eyes darting up to meet your impatient gaze. 

     Can’t really argue with that, can you? With a final sigh, you reluctantly relax your body, allowing the artist to more accurately place the plaster strips onto your lubricated skin. He rewards your cooperation with a tender kiss to your lips and a warm smile. His calloused hands smooth out the bandages over the soft rolls on your waist and tummy, making sure every single detail of your perfect form is immortalized. If you yourself can’t live forever, he’s determined to make sure people are able to admire you for centuries to come. 

     Once Johnny’s satisfied with the sticky mess he made on your plush body (for once, it’s actually a PG-rated mess), he steps back to admire his handiwork with a pleased hum. His eyes scan over your body in appreciation before he turns and washes his hands, drying them off with a rag. Over the course of the next thirty minutes, he tells you corny jokes to keep you distracted from the discomfort of drying plaster on your skin. Once it’s dry, he tells you to take a deep breath so he can pry off the cast—you’re secretly thankful that he spent so much time putting vaseline all over you because pulling it off was already a task. 

     With a gross pull of your skin and then a soft squelching noise, the artwork is off of your body. Johnny smiles giddily, happy with how perfect and detailed it turned out. He sets it carefully on his desk to let it dry more on the inside. Much to your relief, he allows you off of the stool and guides you into the washroom where he runs you a nice bath. He insists on cleaning your body, gushing about how beautiful and perfect you are for him—and then he fingers you silly as a reward, making sure the bathwater is deliciously murky before draining it. He dries you off with tender hands, pressing doting kisses all over your face just because he can. And once he’s got you in bed, all sleepy and warm, he climbs in beside you and whispers into your ear:

“Gunna make a cast o’ yer gorgeous cunt next, aye?”

[alicerosejensen]

Find me

Warning: mention of blood, violence (physical and psychological), mention of viruses, parasites, zombies; kidnapping; the reader has a slight anemia; Fem/reader; established relationship with Leon.

Synopsis: You could have a quiet wedding and a good life with the person you love most in the world. Leon was ready to protect you to the death from his enemies and viruses but… it seems that someone is also interested in you. And the price for life will be very high.

A/N: The idea from this post that I wrote about quite a long time ago. "Together forever" I'm not very good at writing (apparently the Yandere theme is not mine, no matter how much I like it). So I'm going to try this plot. I don't know how many parts there will be, but if everything goes well, then probably a lot (maybe 10-12 or so). I hope someone likes it because I have serious notes on this work in my notebook, as if these are sketches for the 9th part of the resident).

Tags will be added to the following parts. I was very much inspired by the remaster and Haunting ground when I was taking notes. After all, both games were made by Capcom.

Feedback is welcome (but no insults!)

Sometimes the worst horror happens in the name of love. It's not the worst plot for books, films or paintings that are more than a hundred years old and it's impossible not to admit that sometimes we want to be loved until our death.

And maybe after it.

The words sound soft, with a slight taste of regret, as if somewhere between the letters there is a treacherous "I'm sorry". But in fact it was so predictable. Leon hugs you too tightly, experiencing an inexhaustible sense of guilt, because he promised to decide together where you will spend your honeymoon, which is unlikely to last exactly a month, he promised to watch a movie with you that you have been planning for a long time and… and everything went to hell.

Leon nuzzles your cheek and devoutly kisses you gently, leaving a wet trail with his eyes closed. Another sign of his eternal love, his lips are imprinted on the bridge of your nose, making you smile from the slight tickle caused by his stubble. He had no power over not being called to work for at least another week, but the government is not interested in the personal life of his best agent. And yet you enjoy the way he puts his arm around your waist, holding you as tightly as he can.

"Okay, Mr. Kennedy," you joke kindly, inhaling the almost faded scent of his cologne. "I forgive you, once again. Run to save the world" You smile looking into his crystal blue eyes filled with sadness and longing.

"I promise that I will ask the authorities for a good vacation," Leon swears very sensually, continuing to hold you tightly in his hands and look with those puppy eyes from which the soul is torn apart and kisses again this time on the forehead, "If necessary, I will harness Ingrit and no one will bother us. We'll plan everything the way you want, even if it's a tour of all the castles in Europe"

You laugh sincerely, removing the bangs from his face, hoping to stretch the moment of intimacy with him longer. It was so warm and safe next to him that you snuggled up to his chest and he gently cradled you in his arms like a child.

"Don't do anything stupid in my absence"

"I still need to do an exhibition and maybe I'll finally clean up the bookcase," you lie knowing full well that the books will still lie randomly on the shelves and you won't even touch them. Actually, your work was the only thing that could save you from the all-consuming longing for Leon.

"Be careful, okay?" with some hidden fear, he asks, reluctantly releasing you from the ring of embraces. "I'll call as soon as I get a free minute and I'll really be back soon"

Leon is already out on the street and you follow him with a sad look, noticing some dark car to the side. Rightly deciding that they came for him, you lower your head, sighing heavily and literally taken aback when Leon's lips abruptly cover yours with a demanding and somewhat rude kiss that you forget how to breathe. At some point you try to seize the initiative, but strong hands push you against the wall and you hit the back of your head a little painfully, allowing him to dominate. As always.

"I would eat you right here," Leon said sarcastically and quietly stroking your hips, "But I really have to go."

And you silently bite your lower lip while watching him move away from you and get on his bike.

Well, that cool car wasn't for him, but this thought quickly leaves your head and in the end, tired of standing on the street, you just go back into the house, closing the door, grabbing the phone and immediately sending him an impatient "I miss you already." However, this does not prevent you from also ordering food with home delivery and watching some movie to pass the evening that was hopelessly spoiled.

The evening really became disgusting, neither delicious food saved him, nor a good movie will save him.

"Complete shit" a quiet curse came off your lips when you looked at the phone screen for the hundredth time in the evening and endlessly reread Leon's last message "My love…" which seems to have been imbued with such despair that tears came to your eyes. He was like a big kid who couldn't live a day without you and besides, only with you his sleep was like a more or less healthy one. You were his only light and he wanted that light to stay with him forever. Well, you could send him a hundred more messages, but it's unlikely that he will have the opportunity to read them in the next few hours or even days. So with bitterness, you just turned off the TV and went to the bathroom to get ready for an earlier than usual sleep.

Hot water pleasantly calmed and warmed the skin flowing down the body. You spent 15 minutes in the shower, brushing your teeth and doing all the usual and favorite cosmetic procedures, smeared your body with a lotion with a pleasant floral scent, waiting for it to soak into pale skin. The mood even improved a little when you changed into pajamas and straightened the bed once more before putting your head on the pillow and looking at the phone.

Nothing.

There's no point blaming Leon or doubting his love. It wasn't up to him. Sometimes he was dragged out of bed late at night and you could not see him for weeks without even being able to talk on the phone for one minute. But when he returned, he turned into a puppy clinging to his beloved owner and covered your body with a lot of kisses, not letting you get out of bed. Not that you mind… You always miss him and worry about him.

Sighing, you turn over on your side, putting the phone on the bedside table and not seeing the desired message from your fiance. Therefore, grabbing Leon's pillow, the lungs are filled with his smell and instead of feeling his presence, you experience only a deep feeling tearing apart that makes your heart beat a little faster.

And closing your eyes, you reach for the switch, when suddenly for a second the phone quickly notifies you of a new message from the addressee next to whose name the heart turns red.

"Don't forget to take the pills that the doctor prescribed for you. I want this sickly pallor to disappear. Love you"

Well, smiling, you took a screenshot of the message for some reason, saving it in your gallery on your phone. After sending Leon the answer, you still remembered that you really forgot about those pills once again, but you didn't want to get up anymore, so you left this matter for the morning. Sighing once again, trying his luck in the hope that Leon would write something else, your mobile was treacherously silent while you were just flipping through the social media feed.networks thinking only about how dependent you are on this man. However, the same can be said about him. The phone went out, as did the light in the bedroom, and sleep slowly overtook your mind when you hugged else's pillow without hearing quiet footsteps in the next room. The uninvited guest, thanks to Leon, had to tinker a lot with the lock of the front door before he unlocked it, quietly closing it behind him so as not to attract your attention while you were in the shower. Merging with the surrounding darkness, it was necessary to wait for the right time and prepare the syringe so that everything went as it should and the target was quietly neutralized without attracting the attention of neighbors.

The order was well paid and the fact that Leon left the house on that day was only to his advantage. After all, a government agent can ruin everything and getting rid of him threatened big problems that were not needed by anyone, but who will remember about his pretty bride, about whom he will probably quickly forget everything himself? The unknown person only needed to stick a pomeranian, inject the substance and quietly take the target out of the house by throwing a fake note with a handwriting similar to yours that you and Leon do not see the future for yourself. Pick up a few personal items and throw them in the nearest trash as proof of the truthful departure of the unfaithful bride.

Not the worst plan, especially since Leon Kennedy will think about your disappearance and how natural it is, no one really cares. Even if he suspects this ill-conceived plan, by that time you will be too far away from here anyway.

The problem was solved by itself because you are a simple art worker did not pose any threat even if you tried to resist. One step, two… the blessed victim will not suspect anything until the very moment when someone else's hand in a black glove closes her mouth and sticks a needle into her body. You fall asleep without suspecting anything, somehow reflexively reaching to the left side where Leon usually sleeps with his back to the bedroom door.

You are separated by literally a few meters from each other before one inept movement spoils everything.

The sound of falling books that Leon has been asking you to arrange exactly for so long makes you open your eyes by squeezing the pillowcase of the pillow and the "guest" freeze without touching the door handle. However, you felt a gaze on you that did not let you be deceived that someone had entered the house.

In Leon's bedside table there is a 9mm pistol fully loaded. It's not that you were very accurate, but Leon took you to a place as entertainment, where you trained shooting at targets under the watchful eye.

"not the worst result for a beginner," he said condescendingly so as not to upset you, but it was fun even if the gun was real.

Except now there are no jokes! You heard another step towards your side and held your breath, gathering strength for a jerk to pull out the gun and remove it from the safety. From fear, the heart beat faster, causing the blood to roar in your ears and before the intruder's hand landed on your face, you abruptly rolled to the left side of the bed, throwing a pillow at the person standing over you, winning for yourself a couple of seconds from his confusion.

Jumping to your feet, you quickly grabbed the gun pointing it at the man with trembling hands, removing it from the safety.

"Your own life is more expensive," you thought when a man of impressive size in a mask stood a meter away from you without a weapon, because his goal is to deliver you alive because you will not be of any use dead.

You held his floor at gunpoint, but your hands were shaking from the unusual weight and you really wanted to lower them down, but you held on trying not to panic. A step towards you and you pulled the trigger without aiming so stupidly hitting the closet, startled by the loud noise of the shot, immediately shrinking and from unaccustomed frightened by the strong recoil of the weapon.

"Fuck," he swore loudly, immediately rushing to you, forcing you to scream at the top of your voice while miraculously dodging. Rushing to the door, the first thought was to run outside and ask for help from neighbors, especially since the sound of a gunshot and a woman's scream certainly did not go unnoticed and someone probably should have already called the police. We just need to hold out. However, you only managed to jump out into the corridor when suddenly a strong man's hand roughly grabbed you by the hand in which you were holding a gun and your finger pressed the hook again making a shot.

Again a loud noise, your screams and a small hole in the ceiling.

Again the bullet flew by.

"Get off me, you bastard!"

A ringing slap in the face and you abruptly fell to the floor dropping the gun somewhere to the side. He immediately hung over you, but grabbing the first book that came to hand, you threw it in her man's face and taking advantage of another hitch jumped to her feet, running on without thinking about how much lip hurts.

And yet, the chances of escape were initially small, especially when shortness of breath began due to anemia and the chest began to ache sharply. A deep breath did not help even if your body was filled with adrenaline, he still knocked you to the floor, pressing your whole body to the floor, taking that ill-fated syringe out of your pocket and sticking it into you by quickly pressing the plunger . It only takes a few minutes, but because of your screams and shots, even they could put the entire mission under the "failed" icon, so without wasting even these precious minutes, the kidnapper grabs you by the hair and just hits your head on the floor suppressing resistance at the root. The world before your eyes becomes hazy and barely audible when a strange and unusual feeling of lightness covers you despite the pain in your head.

"Bitch ruined everything"

This bastard threw you over his shoulder and quickly ran out of the house, leaving the syringe lying there on the floor because there was no more time. Throwing you carelessly like a sack into the backseat, he slammed the door and gave gas to get away from the crime scene as soon as possible and dump the tail by moving to another car. They'll pay him well anyway.

You only blurred vision being on the verge of consciousness silently watched your loss until a long sleep covered you.

[ic3-que3n]

I FINISHED IT! (I was worried about making it in time. Three days ago it was a rough sketch)

Here is my art piece (s) for Carry on Through the Ages an event run by @carryonthroughtheages

More below the cut.

So my idea for this wordless comic is loosely inspired by the myth of Galatea.

Agatha is constantly pursued by suitors but she isn't into anyone and doesn't want to marry any living man. In a Galatea fashion she goes to carve a man for herself to be her husband, one who wont want anything from her and will let her live her life alone. She starts carving Simon but after finishing carving his face she pauses. He isn't looking like her sketch there is something off, something wrong with his expression. She takes a step back and notices the statue is regarding her with a mournful expression. So she goes back to her art and starts drawing to figure it out, she does and goes back to the statue adding what was missing: Baz. A love Simon could actually have and hold forever, not to be in a cold lifeless sham. Agatha leaves the statue in some quiet forest grove to live their life and goes and lives hers in her own way.

Also this didn't come through in the nicer photos BUT i used a metallic watercolor for the marble and it kills me it didn't show up so here is a close up:

[the-devil-is-dead]

TMNT Redesigns ( Ⅰ – Leonardo )

I finally decided to watch Mutant Mayhem like a year after it came out, and I was violently dragged back into the depths of the TMNT fandom as a result. So, to soothe my aching artist's hands, I decided to draw some of my personal TMNT designs— most of them heavily inspired by the 2K12 and IDW universes 🐢

And who better to start off with than Leonardo himself? I initially wanted him to be a diamondback, mostly because that was how I imagined him around a year and half ago, but I couldn't find my original concept sketches from that time, so I decided to start anew. The Malaysian box turtle, or Malayan box turtle— whichever you prefer, is actually a subspecies of the Amboina box turtle, with a more dome-like carapace and longer plastron. When I was looking for interesting turtle species to base this redesign off, the Malayan box turtle's markings caught my eye. Although they aren't that similar to the markings of the red-eared slider, I thought that when stylized they could reference Rise!Leo's facial and upper arm markings because he is one of my favorite TMNT designs, unfortunately 😞

I could yap about turtles forever in a way that has nothing to do with this redesign, so I'm deciding to cut it short 😲 I haven't really come up with a story for this little fella yet, but as I proceed with his brothers' designs I might get this brilliant idea that I'll share with you... perhaps, since I am surprisingly busy with school nowadays 😓

Have a lovely day/evening! ❤

[kazehita]

Hello!!! I love your art so much, especially the way you render!! Do you have any tips, tutorials, etc on rendering?? Be as detailed or curt as you like, I'm just hoping to improve my skills -- and I hope to see more art from you, in any form!!! You're a fantastic artist !!!! Have a good day :)

Sorry for the delay in answering this, I wanted to answer it well!!!

Here's my typical 5-step process:

flats

he has been flatted. You'll notice I also colored the lineart at this stage as well! Also, I do work with the background at the same time, but I have hidden it here for simplicity.

2. Cell shade shadows

I used to skip cell shading and just ball with my rendering, but I have found starting out like this is much faster!!

3. Airbrush shadows and colors

I did two things here, one is just a touch of airbrushing the colors into eachother, to help make everything more harmonious. The other is to airbrush colors onto my shadows! I set that layer to multiply, and mess around until something looks a little like I want.

4. Painting

This is the time sink - there's no getting around it, it just takes forever!! It's a lot about making the dark areas darker, and artifically injecting some color diversity - I like to diversify shades, and just slap on slight hue shifts as i go, and if it sucks I just paint over it some more. I draw different colors into eachother (look at the black shirt above, see how i bring in the tan and whites into the grey?) and add detail and texture. It's a little hard to explain beyond that, hmm... Do let me know if you have specific questions about it!

5. bedazzle and effects

I add extra highlights to the highlights, maybe a sparkle or two on a hard edge, hash lines for texture, and occasionally I also do screentones in shadows. Also, importantly, i blur things that shgould be out of focus! See on the arms and legs here - the bottom image has them blurred more intensely the further they are from the focal point. It's a small thing, but this effect goes a long way!

Annd done!

It's the little things that make a rendered piece sing! A balance between detailing and speed is a tricky one to figure out - I'm still working on that myself!

Also, there's two different ways I render at the moment, one is the quick-messy for sketches, which is what I've done for most of my fanart lately, but I assumed that you were asking about my full process so I went into detail on that. Tho if you're curious about my sketch rendering, anyone is welcome to ask me about that as well!

(there is little method to this madness though, haha)

Omg wait I had forgotten, a few months ago i was making a mini art guide about some tips and tricks

I lost motivation but if anyone is actually interested do let me know and maybe i'll finish it hjsdhjfghjs

Anyway, thank you so much anon!!!!! wah!!!!!!! Your kind words mean the world to me ;w; They fill me with strength and joy1!!!!!! thank you so much!!!!!!!!

[thestarfishface]

Kinda feel bad about not drawing much just because I don't have much to post. The truth is that I draw a LOT it's just mostly stuff I can't post right away (comic pages and video artwork/thumbnails), combined with having very little motivation to work on properly finished pieces right now. Sketching heals my weary soul.

Anyway I have 4 sketchbooks now and none of them are finished because Oops

So a few months ago I got a sketchbook and some alcohol markers sent to me as part of a sponsorship. The sketchbook is really nice marker paper and I love it but I have accidentally worked myself into the mindset of "If I draw in this sketchbook it needs to be for marker pieces". Which is silly, because the marker sketchbooks are not that expensive, but that's where my brain is at. The other problem is that this sketchbook is Big which makes it hard to carry around.

A few weeks later I was in a bookstore and saw some Moleskine notebooks. I've scoffed at MS notebooks before because they're really expensive considering the paper quality, but when I checked this most recent time I saw they had a line of smaller, art-specific sketchbooks that supposedly had thicker paper. "Bet", I said, and bought one, even though it came shrink wrapped and I couldn't feel the paper first.

It is heavenly. I love it. The paper is so so thick and smooth and I love every second I spend drawing on it. It's not really thick enough to handle my alcohol markers, but for little sketches with sharpie and brush pens (my favorite <3) it handles amazingly.

I liked having it as a travel sketchbook, but around the time I bought it I was struggling with some Life Stuff and needed somewhere to get the feelings out, so my MS notebook ended up becoming half sketchbook and half diary. And now the problem is that I LOVE drawing in my little MS sketchbook, but it is now filled with Sad Thoughts so I feel like I can't bring it out of the house with me. Or else I run the risk of people seeing the Sad Thoughts.

So THEN I think "Well shit, now I need to buy another mini sketchbook that can be my actual Small Sketchbook To Carry Around With Me (That Does Not Have Sad Thoughts In It), so I bought another, non-Moleskine sketchbook. So I did, and it's... okay. The paper's not AS thick but it's lavender and very cute and has more pages. And I figure "Okay, now the MS notebook can be my journal with some doodles in it, and the purple sketchbook can be the travel book."

BUT THEN I was at the Fancy Bookstore last weekend and got curious about another brand of fancy sketchbooks. They were also shrink-wrapped so I couldn't test the paper for myself, but from the numbers on the packaging it seemed like the paper was a decent weight! And it had some other cool features like numbered pages!

Turns out I got confused because I thought the paper weight was in pounds, turns out it's in grams, and the paper is BAD. SUPER thin and transparent, not even worth being a sketchbook. BUT. It is cute and orange. And it works nicely with some cute little stationery pens I have and like writing with.

So... Now I have my black sketchbook (big, for markers), my Moleskine sketchbook (red, my favorite for sketching but contaminated with Sad Thoughts so it's not allowed to leave the house), my purple sketchbook (travel sketchbook, cute), and orange sketchbook (locked forever in diary purgatory). Someone help that is too many.

(Next time I'm at the bookstore someone might need to physically restrain me from buying another mini Moleskine notebook. I have a PROBLEM!!! And the problem is WHY IS THIS PAPER SO NICE???!?! AGH)

[idontplaytrack]

The Practice

AJ Campos x fem! reader

Warnings: some coarse language, fluff, anxiety mentions

In which a shy reader gets invited by AJ to her house. Reader decides to make a move but is afraid of messing things up

Requested? Yes / No

“

Yourself? You were telling yourself how much you love you?

”

— Piper Halliwell, Charmed. Season 3 E1

(Pictures used above are found on Pinterest)

AJ Campos. Sister of the school’s most popular girl in school. But, also your friend. Or so you thought. For the past few weeks, things have been a little tense between the two of you. The girl’s been flirting with you and you never knew what to do with yourself, always coming off sounding like a lunatic. So, you decided to keep quiet, push her away. Hoping for it just stop. You liked her- you knew that deep down, but you couldn’t admit it to her. You just couldn’t do it. You were scared, scared that you’d read her completely wrong and her flirting with you was just for fun and not meant in a way that was hopefully romantic. So after a full fourteen days of avoiding your best friend, she’s definitely picked up on it— sooner than later, but she also didn’t say a thing about it because she wanted to figure out on her own just why you were acting the way you were.

Spoiler alert, neither of you were getting anywhere with it.

AJ didn’t want to get mad at you, but she was slowly getting there. Frustrated that you weren’t telling her what was bothering you.

“What’s the matter, AJ?” Gabi asks, sitting down beside her sister on the bench. AJ was sketching something in her notebook: a chipped tooth, with the words ‘I have fillings too’. AJ slams the notebook shut, not wanting her sister to ask about it. “Nothing.”

“Really?”

AJ scoffs, “If you know, then why ask?”

“I don’t know what’s going on, but I know something’s going on. That’s why I’m asking- so you’d tell me. And I can help you.”

“Help me with what?”

“Whatever it is. Look- we’ve already been through the whole King Pun situation okay? You not telling me that was fine, I get it. But now you’re upset and I can tell.” Gabi pointed at the book, “So, spill.”

“I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Just…say anything.”

“Someone’s not taking my flirting well…?”

Gabi squinted, “Who?”

“Um.” AJ inhales harshly, “y/n. I like her and I tried flirting with her, she flirted back like- one time and the next day she just completely shut me out.”

“So she’s not talking and neither are you?”

AJ nodded.

“Typical.” Gabi nearly laughs.

“What?”

“Come on. This isn’t the first time something like this has happened. Remember a few years ago when she tried to come out to you and got so anxious she ran off to puke?”

“That is a completely different situation.”

“Yes, but it tells you why she’s shutting you out. She’s probably just scared and not sure you’re actually flirting instead of…I dunno. Doing it for fun because you two have been besties forever?”

“I guess that’s possible…” AJ pondered over her words.

“How’d you get her to open up to you that time?”

“I literally just— I made her cry before she even agreed to sit down and talk to me before she could run away and avoid me. She was terrified and then somehow she just spilled it.”

“But it worked.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want her to cry.” AJ glared at her sister.

Gabi chuckles, “I’m not- I’m not saying you’re gonna make her cry. I’m saying, get her before she runs away from you and tell her you want to talk to her. I mean really insist on it. And if she says she needs time, give her time. But make sure she knows you’re not gonna just give up and drift away.”

With a soft sigh falling from her lips, AJ says, “Thanks, Gabs. I’ll try.”

“Breathe. You got this.” Gabi gives her a hug before AJ leaves, on a mission to locate you. It was lunch, you were eating and you had your phone on the table, face down. It buzzes so you pick it up.

Damn, she still wasn’t mad at you? You’d expected her to wash her hands off you by now. You read her texts but just couldn’t bring yourself to respond. You didn’t know what to say that would make you seem like a complete fool. In the meantime, you spent the rest of the school day debating whether or not to meet up with AJ like she’d asked. You were…distracted to put it mildly. Should you go for it and just see how it turns out? No. Right? You’ve already been making yourself seem like an idiot.

You asked for a lavatory pass and went to the bathroom to think it over, feeling the chatter in classroom too overwhelming for you to be thinking clearly. But it’s not like you were thinking about anything but her for the past two weeks…which was…bad.

Somehow or other, you found yourself leaning against her car, that afternoon waiting for her. Prepared— because you had written down a full fledged confession, but also just as unprepared because you were so anxious and couldn’t stand being in her presence.

————

“Hi.” AJ walks up to you, unlocking her car from a distance. “Thanks for coming to see me.” You gave her a tight lipped smile, one hand clutching onto your strap of your backpack as it hung on one side of your back. “Get in.” She said softly, doing so herself. You followed suit. The drive was silent. She seemed very calm, but you on the other hand felt like you were so on the edge you might throw up in front of her again. Forcing yourself to admit your feelings for her was a terrifying thing so far.

AJ leads you into her house, and up to her bedroom. You excuse yourself to be in the bathroom. “Oh no, am I making you wanna throw up again?”

“No…” You chuckled wryly.

Yes. Kind of.

“Excuse me a minute, please?”

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” AJ shrugged, gesturing towards the ensuite bathroom.

That was the most you’ve said to each other recently. And it was awkward. Painful almost- that’s what you felt.

You quietly shut the bathroom door, walking to the sink. You propped yourself up by the palms, staring at your reflection in the mirror. “You…you gotta suck it up and admit it. Tell her. You can’t screw this up, y/n.” Shakily, you reached into your pocket to get the crumpled piece of paper.

‘I can’t lose you. I like you too much to take the risk- I don’t know if you like me the way that I like you and I’m so scared that it’d be the case. But I still…I still wrote this anyway: I can’t imagine my life without you. We’ve been in each other’s life since before I could remember and going a day without you is the most painful thing I’ve ever had to endure. I just hope that this stays to be the most painful thing and not you rejecting me…because I love you. I love you so much’

She knocks, the door opens as you said those three words. “Are you okay? Because you’ve been in here for like ten minutes and Gabi over on the other side of the door who shares this bathroom is breathing down my neck about it.”

“I was just thinking and then talking to myself…”

“You were talking to yourself? You were telling yourself how much you love you? Okay, good for you, honey.” She bit back a smile, “Come on out. Bathroom’s yours, Gabs!” As you exited the bathroom, Gabi walks in through her door.

You didn’t know exactly how, but maybe these two, nearly three weeks has forced you to really think about it all. How you felt about her, your fears, what you wanted…also. It felt like torture being apart from her for as long you have. Your heart was going crazy.

“AJ, I was uh-” You grabbed her wrists before she could walk back to her bed, “Actually…I was practicing what I was going to say to you if I could ever do that. In the bathroom. I’m just way too nervous to say it to you right away even though I’ve already wrote it down. I was going to plan a whole thing and give myself the time meanwhile to mentally prepare but I guess…here works too. Because every single moment I spend with you has been the happiest I’ve ever been no matter where the hell we are, no matter how boring or shitty the place or the situation is. It- It was wrong of me to just push you away like that and not let you know what was going on…that I needed the time to think.”

You were looking right into her eyes, and she was doing the same. When you feel the tears pricking your eyes, you saw tears brimming in hers. She sniffles, letting one hand go to wipe her tears away and she looks down for a beat.

You continue, “I don’t know everything, but I- I do know this- AJ, I cannot- I can’t lose you. I like you too much to have even thought of taking the risk and face possible rejection. Because I just know that it would hurt so damn much, AJ. I simply am not able to imagine a life without you. We’ve been in each other’s lives for so long and having to spend time apart from you was the hardest, most painful thing I’ve had to deal with. I like you, AJ. For a long time and I couldn’t admit it because I was so scared of what could or couldn’t happen. But I’ve had enough of fear, I’ve had enough of letting it control my feelings and my life. I don’t want to fuck this up…I don’t want to lose you. I need you in my life. I love you.”

Admittedly, your stomach was very unsettled but you pushed through. “I…” AJ chuckles, “That’s- wow. Took you long enough to figure it out.”

“I’m sorry.” You laughed tearfully, unable to hold back the tears anymore.

She sighs softly, caressing your cheek. AJ shook her head, “Don’t apologise. That was good.”

You licked your lips, exhaling shakily, a whimper gets caught in your throat as you reached out to hug her. Instinctively, she hugs you back even more tightly and was rubbing your back to calm you down. “I love you, baby. I love you so fucking much. You’re alright. Shh. Thank you- that was the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

[awesome-shoes-with-wings]

@hedgehodgy A fluffy little puppy to encourage fluffy little scenes, mayhaps?

I actually did the sketch weeks ago but I lost it... I thought he was gone forever, but then I found him again!!

Listened to 'Cracker Jack' by Dolly Parton at least 7 times while finishing this because the vibes!!!

I found him by the river bank just wandering about He was cold and hungry and his ribs were sticking out I snapped my fingers, whistled, when he came, I picked him up I was just a kid and Cracker Jack was just a pup - Cracker Jack by Dolly Parton

[thotpuppy]

Hunting the Hunters by HuffleBBC

Chapters: 10/10 Words: 34,804 Fandom: Teen Wolf (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski Characters: Derek Hale, Stiles Stilinski, Kate Argent Additional Tags: Dead McCall Pack, Dead Hale Pack, Stiles is a BAMF, Spark!Stiles, Magical stiles, Tattooed Stiles, Full Shift!Derek Hale, Kidnapping, Torture, Graphic Violence, Cannon-Typical Violence, betryals, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Masturbation, MlM kissing, mentioned sex, Kate Argent - Freeform, Cannon Divergent, AU, Orphan Stiles, past Kate/Derek, Implied Sexual Abuse, Implied Torture, touch adversion, touch starved, Swearing, magical healing, Grief, Emotional Healing, Not-so-slow burn, trauma drump talk, injured derek, minor gore, Bad guys die, Fighting Summary:

The death of his pack at the hands of Argent Hunters leads Stiles to becoming a weapon of vengeance, set on killing every hunter. He is good at his job, and when his next intel tells him an Argent is nearby, he is eager to claim their blood. But his plan is interrupted when he finds a living trophy locked up in the basement. Stiles rescues the poor wolf, barely making it out of the warehouse alive. Stiles heals the wolf and resolves to bring him to a safe haven with a shaman who can find the wolf a pack and home. As they travel together, Stiles rediscovers what it’s like to have a friend and family. He confronts the pain of his past and opens up to the wolf. The two form a connection, but Stiles is forced to choose; vengeance or a new start? Sometimes a familiar pain is easier to choose than to take a chance on a hope. With an Argent standing between him and love, his past, and future may come down to a single moment, a single fight. Can he win?

Read Here

I totally meant to make a promo post for this forever ago, I am so sorry Mim!

I had so much fun doing this cover akdjgkajdg

I initially had a... very, VERY different sketch concept, but it was more of an illustration and I have just been FEELING the cover art lately, so i ended up really drawing to doing this This Way instead. I also actually spent a huge amount of time like, precariously detailing a lot of things that, due to final lighting effects, are wholly invisible akdgjkadg please please full screen the FUCK out of this and zoom in to all those tiny details. thank u LOL

[moonmeg]

Soooo in TDCA worst universe (I'm starting to love it)

a) What do you think would happen if Philip killed Robyn, his family's reactions, micah...

b) If Philip captures Robyn and forces him to work, his family, Micah etc would go looking for him?, what would Micah think knowing that the love of his life is suffering? And what would it feel like to cat?

Sorry, it's a very long question :(

I'm quite enjoying that AU too actually and it's nice to see a little weird dream I had some months ago and that I sketched something for is well received among my followers too!

a) There's an earlier ask in my inbox with the same question. I'll get to it sooner or later, I promise!

b) All the people around Evelyn and Robyn know is that both disappeared without a trace (Evelyn died as a deal with Philip to protect Robyn, Robyn himself is living in captivity). Andrew, Silvia, the Bowers and Ahana all were desperately trying to find Evelyn and Robyn. Missing posters, search "troops", they searched for years but to no avail.

Andrew neglected the workshop, Silvia her potion stand, Ahana her shop, the Bowers their fields and specifically Micah's academic successes started dropping. He could barely sleep or think of anything that wasn't related to Robyn's disappearance. At some point he couldn't handle living in Bonesborough anymore and his parents and sisters started worrying for him more and more too as the sunshine they knew Micah as immensely dimmed and he isolated himself and started to merely function rather than actually living. He moved to his birth town and his other family while Breena, Neil, Feya and Makenna stayed in Bonesborough whereas Feya and Makenna also moved out shortly after.

Micah has no thoughts regarding what Robyn is going through because he doesn't know where he is and what he is doing or what is being done to him. For all he knows Robyn could be dead. He pushed that theory away though everytime. It was easier to believe Robyn was alive somewhere and that he might reach out again one day than to believe he was gone forever.