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littlexdeaths · 1 month ago

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eddie munson x shy fem reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY MDNI, insecure eddie makes an appearance, eddie’s pov, tons of kissing, drug use (weed), grinding/dry humping and a whole lot of cheese, what can i say? (it’s a given with these two)

part four | part six

let’s go, don’t wait masterlist

word count: 4.9k

a/n: damn this was a long time coming. thank you guys for being so patient with me during this writing slump. also big shoutout to @strangerstilinski for gifting me that one porno title. but i really need to give the biggest thank you to my bestie @undead-supernova ! august, you have truly helped me improve my writing so much over the past year, and i hope you know how much i love and appreciate you. this chapter is dedicated to you boo xx.

“You cannot be serious, sweetheart,” Eddie deadpans, looking between you and the VHS tape clutched between his fingers.

You feel your face warm, his overly exaggerated tone causing another customer in the horror section to give you both a sideways glance.

“As a heart attack,” you mumble, grabbing a copy of Children of the Corn to read the back cover in order to avoid his piercing gaze.

“Never seen Alien, she says…” he huffs under his breath, “It’s a classic!”

When you finally dare to peek up at him under your lashes, he’s giving you a look of utter disapproval that wavers on the edge of teasing.

“Sci-Fi isn’t really my thing,” you shrug, putting the tape back and reaching for another.

“But Evil Dead is?” he muses, leaning forward over your shoulder to glance at the cover art.

The background is dark, with two grotesque-like hands reaching into the frame and toward a bloodied Bruce Campbell holding a chainsaw above his head. When Eddie leans in closer to get a better look, the tips of his fingers brush against your own in the process. The gentle touch sends your body into overdrive and you swear your heart is about to leap out of your chest from the proximity.

“Well…what about this one?” you ask, stepping out of his embrace to head further down the aisle, ignoring the rising heat in your cheeks as you nearly stumble. Damn heels.

“I would argue that this is a classic.”

But Eddie just slips in behind you again, resting a hand on your hip while you hold a copy of The Texas Chainsaw Massacre in your hands.

“Perhaps,” he shrugs, holding back a snicker as you gasp in mock offense.

“You doubt my judgment?”

“Of course not,” he insists with a small snort. “But…maybe you have a thing for guys who wield chainsaws.”

You catch the sly grin that stretches across his lips out of the corner of your eye, a loud laugh puffing out from his chest when you playfully smack his shoulder. Eddie grabs the tape from you, leaning in a little closer until his lips brush against your ear.

And he doesn’t miss the subtle hitch of your breath.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart…” he cheekily assures, “Your secret is safe with me.”

When you throw a playful glare his way, he merely winks in response. Then he turns on his heel to stride back toward the front counter, snagging a box of Reese’s Pieces on his way. You fumble a step behind him before glancing up.

The employee manning the counter is someone you know all too well.

His hair is a little longer than the last time you saw him, the ends brushing against his forehead and falling into his eyes. But he’s still just as handsome, if not annoyingly so. And when Eddie sets the tapes on the counter, Steve barely spares him a passing glance. His brown eyes quickly settle on you as his lips pull up into a lazy grin.

“Find everything you were looking for?” he asks, the cadence of his voice is low but filled with a sticky sweetness that has your cheeks warming.

And if you didn’t know any better you would think he was flirting with you.

“O-Oh, I, uh— ”

“Yeah,” Eddie cuts in, his voice a little strained. “We found everything just fine, man.”

Steve gives you another soft grin as he snaps open the first case, a small snort leaving his nose.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for the gore fest type.”

But that slight hint of disbelief in his tone has you wanting to shrink in on yourself.

“Then you don’t know her very well,” Eddie mutters under his breath.

Only, his snide comment isn’t as quiet as he initially intended.

But Steve says nothing, just clears his throat and runs a hand through his chestnut locks before sliding the movies across the counter. The clacking of the keyboard fills the uncomfortable silence as you tug at the worn vinyl on the counter.

“That’ll be $12.35.”

You can feel Eddie tense beside you.

“I thought the movies were 2 for $4 tonight?” you chime in softly, confusion scrunching your brows together.

Steve’s lip quirks up in a slight smirk as he glances between you and Eddie.

“Well, Munson here has racked up quite a lot of late fees…” he trails before whistling. The flash of amusement in his eyes has Eddie’s narrowing in warning.

But that look only seems to encourage him.

“Looks like we’ve got Erotic Night of the Living Dead, returned three days late. Munch Masters Vol. I…”, Steve pauses to scroll further down the list. “…and Vol. II, that was a week late.”

He flashes Eddie a condescending grin, “Must’ve really liked that one, huh?”

But before Steve can embarrass him further, Eddie fishes out his wallet and slams a couple bills down onto the counter. He grabs the tapes, tucking them under his arm and slips his hand in yours. The boy all but pulls you out of the store, his chin tucked toward his chest to try and hide the flames licking his cheeks.

Despite his ever growing irritation—fueled by the embarrassment of what just transpired—he still opens the door and helps you into the van.

Ever the gentleman.

“Harrington’s got some nerve,” Eddie mutters under his breath as he slides into the driver's seat. “With his nice smile and his stupid hair…” His voice drips with condescension as he slams the driver's door shut behind him.

“Embarrassing me is one thing. But blatantly flirting with my girl, right in front of me—like I wasn't even there?! That’s low even for him.”

Eddie doesn’t even realize what he just let slip, too busy fumbling to stick the key into the ignition.

A beat passes before you manage to gather the courage to speak, the jingling of keys echoing in your ears.

“Your girl?” you ask carefully, heart lodged in your throat.

Eddie’s whole body tenses, taking his time in setting the tapes down on the dashboard before finally turning to face you.

“Well…I, uh, shit,” he whispers, splotches of red beginning to creep up his neck while he exhales sharply through his nose. “I wanted to ask you in a proper, more romantic way—”

You suddenly turn in your seat, your grip on his collar firm while your lips manage to cut him off with a surprised hmph.

But he’s quick to recover, mouth molding over yours with an intensity that would make your knees buckle if you were still standing. And he keeps kissing you, slowly, deeply…until the windows begin to fog up from the heat of your mingling breaths.

“I don’t need romantic, Eddie,” you manage when he pulls away for some much needed air, your nose nudges against his own before you press another gentle kiss to his swollen lips. “Just you.”

And his answering grin is all the reassurance you need.

“Welcome to my castle,” Eddie says, gesturing toward the pale blue trailer with a tentative smile.

He barely let you push open the passenger door before he was running around the front of the van, almost dropping the VHS tapes tucked under his arm in the process. But the soft giggle you let slip when he bows and offers you his hand had his heart skipping a beat.

He keeps your fingers intertwined as you walk alongside him to the door. The uneven gravel makes the otherwise short distance in your heels a little more treacherous than normal. But Eddie is more than willing to catch you at the slightest hint of a wobble in your step.

The night air is far more frigid than either of you anticipated, and the shiver that ripples through you has him nearly dropping the keys in his rush to open the front door. He curses softly, breathing out a sigh of relief when the door finally swings open.

“Ladies first,” he grins, gesturing you forward.

Once you're both safely inside Eddie drops the keys on the table by the door, kicking off his shoes and switching on lights as he goes. He inwardly cringes when he spots the fast food wrappers scattered across the counter and the pile of dirty dishes in the sink.

What a great first impression, Munson.

But when he remembers the current state of his bedroom, his face pales.

“Uh, I’m just gonna…” he trails off, scratching the back of his neck before motioning behind him with his thumb. “Grab a new shirt, but go ahead and make yourself at home.”

Eddie waits until you’ve taken a seat on the sofa before starting down the hall. He’s frantic when he bursts through his bedroom door, immediately eyeing the pile of clothes strewn across his unmade bed. A disaster he left in the wake of trying to pull together a last minute Halloween costume.

He found the orange shirt that’s currently adorning your frame in the very back of his closet, a lost relic from the one time Wayne had managed to take him hunting. Eddie had fallen asleep up in the deer stand and almost shot a crossbow through his boot, and Wayne had vowed never again.

He had grabbed a discarded sharpie off his nightstand, the cap tucked between his teeth as he scribbled This is my Halloween costume across the front in his signature messy scrawl. While it wasn’t his most creative idea to date, it was either this or the god awful pirate costume he’d been suckered into a few years back. That most definitely did not fit him anymore.

Eddie scoops up an armful of clothes, tossing them onto the already cluttered floor of his closet. His movements are erratic, nearly tripping over one of his amps in the process. While Eddie isn’t the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, he is unable to disguise the way his hands are trembling.

He’s nervous, so fucking nervous.

And when he dares to peek out of his room and down the hall, he immediately has to remind himself to breathe.

Because there you are, sitting on his couch, wearing his shirt. Looking almost heaven sent, your eyes alight with wonder as you take in the collection of hats and mugs adorning the walls.

“Get a fuckin’ grip, man,” he mumbles to himself, dropping to his knees to shove more of the remaining clutter under his bed.

Once he returns to his feet, he slips his jacket off his shoulders and tosses it over the back of the chair before rifling through the top drawer of his dresser for a new shirt. Despite what a majority of the town believed, Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson was no stranger to the sins of the flesh. He’d lost his virginity his first senior year in the back of his van to band geek, Polly O’Donnell.

Which was probably why her mom had failed him two years in a row. Not that he was keeping score or anything.

But even in that moment, Eddie hadn’t felt this nervous.

Maybe, it was because he didn’t harbor the same feelings for Polly that he did for you. Or perhaps the real reason was that he just didn’t trust people or their intentions. His tumultuous upbringing and treatment by his peers was testament enough of that. So Eddie kept most people at arm's length, not allowing them to see past his scary façade.

It was safer that way.

But one look from you was enough to have his carefully crafted walls crumbling down, laid to rubble beneath his feet.

And that’s the thing that scared him the most. That he would willingly throw himself (and his heart) into the crossfire if it meant you would continue to look at him like that.

Man, he had it bad.

He huffs out a breath, grabbing the first unwrinkled shirt that he can find and pulling it over his head. The male takes one final glance around his bedroom, deciding it’s good enough before he turns to leave. But something on his nightstand catches his eye, the joint he rolled earlier practically beckoning him with the promise of sweet relaxation.

And with the state of his jangled nerves, he could use all the help he could get.

So he slips the joint behind his ear, spinning the lighter between his thumb and forefinger as he pads down the hall toward you.

And while his nerves were ravaging his insides, you aren’t faring much better.

You had counted every mug and hat that lined the walls of his living room twice over, in a feeble attempt to distract yourself from the fact that you were actually here with him. All alone, with no prying eyes or listening ears to interrupt you. And despite the fact that he just put a shirt back on, it doesn’t stop your thoughts from wandering to not so innocent places.

The sleeves are cut off, showing off his surprisingly toned biceps. An array of dark ink flows over his arms, the black shirt making him appear almost paler in comparison. You tuck your lower lip between your teeth when you see the muscles in his forearms contract when he places his palms flat on the counter.

Your thighs press together as your gaze travels lower, where his jeans cling a little too tightly to his—

“You still up for some pizza?” he asks, picking up the phone and interrupting your thoughts.

“O-Oh, right!” you blink, averting your eyes. “Pizza sounds great.”

He quickly punches in a number before you can ask any further questions, holding the receiver up to his ear.

“Hey man, it’s Eddie,” he says after a few moments.

The male tucks the receiver between his ear and shoulder while he speaks, fingers drumming lightly along the countertop. The movement causes his hair to fall over his face, a stray curl eventually finding its way into his mouth.

“Yeah, yeah the usual.” he sputters, spitting the hair out and tucking the wild curls back behind his ear. “But uh, can I get olives on half?”

You can’t help but notice the way his eyes roll into the back of his head fondly. And it has you contemplating what other ways you could make his eyes roll back.

“No no no, I have not become an ‘olive enthusiast.’” He scoffs, fingers curling into air quotes. “I just, I have…” he pauses, dark eyes flicking over to you. “I have a guest over tonight.”

And the way Eddie has to hold the phone away from his ear has you stifling a giggle. You can hear a muffled voice on the other end, their enthusiastic lilt apparent even from where you are perched on the end of the sofa.

“Alright, alright, that’s enough.” He chuckles, tongue darting out to wet his lips. “But that should be it.” Eddie tucks the phone back in between his shoulder, reaching to grab his wallet from his back pocket.

“Oh wait, wait!” He exclaims, slapping his palm down onto the counter. “Add on an order of those cinnamon breadsticks too.”

You wish you could’ve been privy to their entire conversation, because the way Eddie flushes a deep crimson before he playfully tells the person on the other end to ‘kindly fuck off’ and hangs up the phone, has you beyond intrigued.

He takes a couple more bills out, tossing them on the counter and slips the wallet back into his pocket. The chain jingles against his thigh with each step he takes, your eyes unintentionally following the movement. He plops down onto the sofa beside you, the heat in his cheeks fading into a soft, rosy sheen.

“Nina’s is busy tonight,” he murmurs, setting something onto the small table beside him. “So, it might take a little longer than usual.”

“How did you know Nina’s Pizzeria was my favorite?” you ask, eyes narrowing in playful suspicion.

“Well,” he hums, leaning his head back against the cushions and giving you a lazy grin. “I just assumed you had much better taste than Domino’s, sweetheart.”

You playfully whack him with one of the throw pillows beside you, a stunned expression crossing over his features. Half of his hair is ruffled from where the pillow connected with his head, and this time you can’t contain the giggles from bubbling up in your chest.

“Oh you are so going to regret that, baby.” he taunts, eyes narrowing in a predatory manner.

And your whole body stills.

Baby. He just called you baby.

Eddie uses this moment to his advantage, pouncing on you with a wicked cackle. His hands find your sides, quickly pulling giggle after breathless giggle from you. When he finds a particularly sensitive spot, you squeal and begin to thrash beneath him as he continues to torture you with his fingers.

Your attempts to get him back are futile. Eddie is much faster, taking both of your wrists and pinning them above your head. Both of your chests are rising and falling rapidly from the exertion, your faces mere inches apart.

His curls create a dark curtain around you, his eyes flicking down toward your lips. His minty breath washes over you, causing yours to lodge in your throat. You just stare at each other, both of you fighting the urge to close the remaining distance between your mouths.

“So, uh,” he clears his throat, “Movie time?”

“Movie time,” you agree.

And just like that, the moment is gone as quickly as it came. Eddie clumsily climbs off you, almost falling off the sofa in the process. His curls bounce as he springs back up, offering a hand to help you sit back up.

“Now my fair maiden, what film dost thou choose?”

He holds up both cases, the choice of movie concealed by the large Family Video logo. You purse your lips, glancing back and forth between the cases as if looking at them longer would somehow reveal the title beneath.

“That one.”

You point to the one in his left hand, and Eddie tosses the other back onto the coffee table. He pops open the plastic case and chuckles before looking up at you.

“Texas Chainsaw it is.” He grins, removing the tape from its case and heading toward the TV.

Eddie crouches down, balancing on the soles of his feet as he loads the tape into the VCR. our eyes can’t help but wander across the expanse of his broad shoulders and down his back. The hem of his shirt rides up ever so slightly as he reaches to switch the tv on, exposing the band of his boxer shorts and the pale skin of his lower back.

“However,” he continues, glancing over his shoulder at you. His eyes are warm and full of mischief. “You are not leaving this trailer until you get to experience the cinematic masterpiece that is Ridley Scott’s Alien.”

The playful threat has your whole body warming, feeling thankful when he finally switches off the lamp. The darkness of the room is a welcome reprieve with only his silhouette visible, illuminated by the glow from the TV. He bounds back over and takes the seat beside you.

You allow yourself to sink further into the sofa while Eddie grabs something off the side table. The spark of the lighter ignites the handsome features of his face, and the slight stubble along his jaw. His plush lips carefully wrap around the end of the joint, cheeks hollowing slightly as he inhales deeply.

The sight alone sends a delightful shiver up your spine, shifting your gaze back toward the television as the smoke billows out from between his lips.

“Are you cold?” he asks, draping his arm over the back of the sofa in search of the old quilt that was previously thrown over it.

But said quilt had unfortunately fallen behind the sofa in the midst of your scuffle, well beyond his reach now. Eddie leans in closer, cursing softly under his breath as he attempts to locate the missing quilt in the dark. You can feel the warmth radiating from his chest, which causes another shiver to pass through you.

“Maybe a little,” you murmur.

And the male doesn’t complain when you nuzzle yourself further into his side, happily curling his arm around your shoulders. He takes another hit from the joint as the trailers continue to flash across the screen, the upcoming releases now the furthest thing from your mind.

“You want some?” He holds the joint out toward you, blowing some smoke out the corner of his mouth. “No pressure, of course.”

You carefully take it from him, your fingers brushing against his own in the process. Despite your initial reservations, you immediately lift the joint to your lips, feeling his eyes continue to linger on your features. In your nervous haste you inhale a little too quickly, the smoke evading your lungs in sharp fragments that has you immediately coughing it back up.

“Whoa, whoa. Easy there, killer,” he teases, gently rubbing your back, the touch a welcome distraction. “You gotta inhale slower.”

He takes the joint back from you, keeping it between his fingers while you continue to cough your lungs up. You’re very thankful he can’t see the way your eyes are watering as another cough racks through your chest.

“Have you ever smoked before?” he asks, only curiosity lacing his tone.

“Um, once,” cough. “In the ninth grade when I stole a cigarette out of my aunt’s purse.”

The memory is sparked, causing a smile to tug at the corner of your mouth. Your Aunt Bev had been visiting from Reno for Christmas, like she did every year. The eccentric woman was always decked out in colorful rhinestones and bright blue eyeshadow, spinning wild tales of her nights out on the strip much to the chagrin of your mother.

But you had never seen her without a trusty pack of Camel Turkish Golds.

So when one of your older cousins claimed you were too much of a prissy pants to join in on their smoke session (aka the infamous cousin walk), you took it upon yourself to swipe one from her purse and hoped she wouldn’t notice. But you received the lecture of a lifetime from her when you came back looking guilty and smelling like nicotine.

As you recount the tale back to him, you purposely leave out the part where you almost threw up in a snowbank because you were coughing so hard. No need to subject him to that visual. And while that experience had you swearing off cigarettes for the rest of your life, that didn’t mean you should deny yourself this one…right?

“Well your aunt’s absolutely right you know,” he says after a moment, that mischievous sparkle back in his eyes. “Cigarettes are terrible for you.”

You go to reach for that pillow again, ready to whack him in the head for good measure but Eddie chucks it across the room before you even have a chance to grab it. The pillow narrowingly misses the tv set by an inch, landing on the floor with a soft thud.

“Ah, ah ah!” he tuts, wagging a finger in front of your face. “Don’t mess with the mane, sweetheart.”

You giggle, rolling your eyes fondly before turning your attention back to the movie. But Eddie keeps his gaze on you, admiring how the soft glow highlights the features of your face. Your nose, which scrunches up in the cutest way whenever you’re annoyed. Your gentle eyes, that look at him as if he could do no wrong. And your lips—god, your lips. They’re slightly pouted, shiny with spit.

And Eddie's perverted mind can’t help but start to wander. He wonders how your lips would feel wrapped around him, or if those pretty eyes would roll back when he buried his tongue inside you.

Jesus H. Christ, was it getting hotter in here?

Eddie wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans, willing all the blood in his body to stop rushing South.

Popping a boner during a horror flick, that’ll really impress her, idiot.

God, he was too sober for this.

The male quickly tears his gaze away from you, picking up the lighter and relighting the forgotten joint. He doesn’t notice your eyes drifting back toward him, like a moth to a flame.

He inhales deeply, allowing the smoke to curl into his lungs and dull his sexually intrusive thoughts. But he feels you staring, your eyes transfixed on where the smoke billows out from between his lips. He glances at the joint, then back at you. Then Eddie gets an idea, an awful, sinful idea.

He whispers your name as the room is bathed in darkness again, giving him the final push he needs.

“I want to try something…” he mumbles, carefully removing your glasses and placing them on the coffee table. “Do you trust me?”

You nod automatically.

“Then come here,” he says, voice hoarse.

And when you crawl into his lap, your thighs bracketing his hips…

Eddie is a goner.

Miraculously, he manages to keep his composure, despite the way his heart is about to leap out of his chest. You’ve never been this close before, where he can feel the warmth of your thighs seeping into his jeans and smell the faint perfume lingering on your neck.

Even in the dark, he can see that flicker of bashfulness cross over your features, that sudden urge to avoid his heated stare. To tuck in on yourself, to hide away. But to his surprise, you hold his gaze, bold and unwavering when one of his hands falls to rest on your hip. He attempts to soothe you, his thumb circling up and under your shirt.

“Inhale slowly, alright?” he gently reminds you.

His other hand brings that joint back to his full lips, the cherry end igniting brightly as he inhales.

Only this time when he lowers the joint, he leans forward. His lips brush against yours until they part beneath his own, the smoke slithering out and into your awaiting mouth. You inhale slowly—just as he instructed and let the smoke curl in and around your lungs.

And when you breathe out, he’s right there, inhaling the dissipating smoke into his own mouth with a proud smile.

“See? You’re a natural.”

Eddie takes another long drag and leans in again, his thumb grazing the curve of your jaw. And maybe it’s the look in his eye or the weed beginning to lull your nerves, but you fist the collar of his shirt and pull him into you, crashing your lips together for the second time that evening.

The male barely manages to discard the joint before he’s reeling you back in, tongue gliding over your lower lip and into your awaiting mouth. You taste like Juicy Fruit and a hint of purple palm tree delight, a combination that sets every nerve in his body on fire.

Your fingers wind into the hair at the nape of his neck, gently tugging and earning you a throaty moan. Eddie swears he’s lost it when your sweet moans begin to echo his own. The sound travels straight down, where his cock is straining pathetically against the seam of his jeans.

An uphill battle he’s been fighting since you kissed him in the parking lot of Family Video.

And when you feel that hardness pressing against your inner thigh, it only encourages you to keep going. Giving an experimental roll of your hips that has Eddie’s head lolling back onto the cushions, a choked sound resembling a whine escapes his mouth.

This new position provides you with easier access to his throat, giving you a surge of confidence before your lips find a home there and teeth nip wherever they can find purchase.

Eddie pants as your lips only trail lower, a grunt of your name mixes with a slew of curses when you suck a large bruise onto the base of his throat. Your lips make an audible pop when they detach from his skin and you lean back to assess the damage with a satisfied grin. He looks beautifully wrecked, lips swollen and eyes glossy.

You trace over the blossoming shades of red and purple on his neck with your fingertips, humming softly when you feel a shiver pass through him.

“My turn,” he insists, gently tipping your head back.

When he leans forward, lips brushing against your collarbone, he can almost taste the spiked punch from earlier. A bitter, yet sugary sweet flavor that has him groaning low in his throat. The sound reverberates through your chest and has your hips grinding harder against his own.

The fabric of your panties are completely soaked, making a mess on the front of his jeans with each frantic buck of your hips. His fingers begin to trail lower, sneaking under your skirt and grazing over the elastic of your panties. Feeling emboldened, you take his wrist, pressing the heel of palm against your center.

“Oh shit,” he groans, fingers circling up and over your aching core. “You’re so fuckin’ wet, sweetheart.”

You can only manage a soft whine in response, allowing him to guide your head back down to capture your lips together.

An abrupt knock sounds just as a blood curdling scream erupts from the television. Both noises pull you apart with a sudden start, which has you nearly falling backwards off his lap and onto the floor below. But Eddie keeps a steady grip on your waist, pulling you flush against his chest as he huffs out a breath of frustration.

“Pizza’s here.”

series taglist: @sheneedsrocknroll92 @blckbrrybasket @your-nightmaredoll @missmarch-99 @fandom-princess-forevermore @mylovelycrazyworld @princesssunderworld @scarlet-bitch @thecreelhouse @vamp-bunny @notwantingtoadult @keeksandgigz @avobabe87 @kellsck @definitionwanderlust @ainelantv @bring-it-on-back

#the freak writes 🫧#eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson smut #eddie munson series #[ series: let’s go—don’t wait ]#[ the munson files ]

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ckret2 · 3 months ago

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Pictured above: a shape's eye view of the end of the world.

The second dimension has burned; and Bill's been accidentally setting the second dimension's neighbors on fire. At the moment, the Axolotl is trying really, really hard to convince himself that these two facts are unrelated. Here, have a fic.

This is chapter 5 of an ongoing fic about the Axolotl in the wake of the Euclidean Massacre as Bill just keeps on committing atrocities. If you wanna read the earlier chapters (and/or look at more pretty art of Bill committing horrors and the Ax witnessing horrors), here's chapters one, two, three, and four.

####

As soon as the Axolotl and the Time Giant exited Dimension Zero, they were greeted with a faceful of rain. Apparently the storm cloud with the Apocalyptic Threat Task Force had been waiting for them. "The fires in the remaining dimensions around 2Δ are finally acting like normal fires," it said. "No teleporting around, no more targeting the mortals. We've got the worst ones under control. Think we'll save about 40% of Dimension 2 Zeta and 30% of Dimension 2 Epsilon. Whatever you two did in there, it helped."

"Yeah, well." The Time Giant shrugged, nearly dislodging the Axolotl from his perch draped over her shoulder. "It was one of those problems that fixes itself once you figure out what it is."

So the Time Giant had been right. The triangle's attempts to rescue "his" "people" and to stabilize his strange underworld in Dimension Zero had been what was destabilizing all the other dimensions. As much of a relief as it was to hear the situation was improving... part of the Axolotl had hoped that the fires were still as untamed as ever—because that would have meant the triangle wasn't guilty of perpetuating the blaze.

(If the triangle wasn't actively working to keep Dimension Zero stable, how much longer until it collapsed and erased all its imprisoned souls from existence? Would it be long enough to get them all out?)

The cloud asked, "So, did you find out what destroyed 2Δ?" Right. The Axolotl had almost forgotten that was what they'd originally been looking for.

The Time Giant shook her head grimly. "Didn't see any sign of it. But I've got a suspicion who did it."

The Axolotl said sharply, "All we have is circumstantial evidence." And he'd ripped into more than one god who'd tried to damn a mortal based on circumstantial evidence.

The cloud's sunbeam darted between their faces. Slowly, it said, "I take it you mean our triangular friend. I don't have any proof yet about the original fire; but he's been spreading the fire, I know that much."

"How did you know?" the Axolotl asked. He and the Time Giant had only just learned it themselves inside Dimension Zero.

"We've been interviewing some refugees while you were out. I—think you'll want to speak to them." The cloud directed this statement to the Axolotl.

The Time Giant said, "Later. The triangle says he's willing to move his people to another dimension." She gestured toward VENDOR, flanked by the two cops THEY'd apparently adopted as THEIR personal escorts. THEY were ranting into a phone that the crab-looking cop was holding up for them. "So we've gotta go discuss refugee stuff with Vendy McVendface."

"VENDOR," the cloud corrected.

"Vend 'er? I hardly even know 'er!"

The gods turned to stare at the border of Dimension Zero as the triangle laughed at his own joke until he wheezed. "I had to. It was sitting right there! It woulda been a crime not to pick it up!" His cackles slowly petered out. "What, no laughs? Maybe the joke doesn't translate."

The Time Giant shrugged. "I kinda thought it was funny."

"Ah, whatever."

"Have you been listening the whole time?" the Axolotl asked, not sure whether to be amused or mortified.

"Don't worry about it, I've got something more important to say." He zipped up along the surface of Dimension Zero's border until he was eye level with the Time Giant. "Hey, Hourglass. I didn't say I'm ready to move my people. I said I'm ready to talk about moving. Your guy better sell me on it. If your offer isn't worth it, we're not leaving."

"Are you serious?" She screwed up her face. "Ain't not being erased from existence worth it?"

"I have very high standards. And there are fates worse than death."

"Name one."

The triangle only thought about it a second before he answered, "Captivity."

####

It wasn't until the Axolotl and the Time Giant left the border of Dimension Zero that the Axolotl realized, the moment the triangle had shown up, the storm cloud had disappeared. It was now drizzling surreptitiously near VENDOR, waiting for them to catch up.

As they approached VENDOR, the Time Giant said, "You should give VENDOR the news."

The Axolotl gave her an affronted look. "Why me?" This wasn't his responsibility. He hadn't been hired to do a job here. He shouldn't even be here; he was essentially an over-involved lookie-loo.

"You'd be better at talking to 'em. You move in the same circles."

"I'm not a politician, I'm a lawyer."

"I'm an engineer." She took the Axolotl off her shoulder and nudged his butt to set him gently floating in VENDOR's direction.

The Axolotl twisted around to give her a resentful look, but swam toward the vending machine.

THEY ignored the Axolotl until THEY finished THEIR current call, at which point THEY snapped, "What?" and he explained the situation. Blessedly, THEY didn't ask any further questions or give him any instructions; THEY just grumbled, "Finally," and told the crab cop, "Call the Vitruvian Mandala—we'll need to find places for another ten million 2D refugees."

"And 1D," the Axolotl said.

"Yes, yes." THEY muttered under THEIR fan, "And hopefully we'll get that triangle to the afterlife he deserves and be done with him."

The Axolotl doubted THEY meant a serene eternal paradise. Pointedly, he said, "Which afterlife he goes to is his choice."

Afterlife law was his speciality. Not cases like "based on this mortal's good and bad deeds, which form has she earned for her next reincarnation?" or "has this soul earned entry into his religion's realm of the wicked, the good, or the heroic?" Those were decided on the local level.

Rather, he tended to handle inter-pantheon, sometimes even interdimensional, cases—like, "if a mortal born on one planet lives and dies on another planet, which world's afterlife has claim to his soul?" "Is a soul's right to return to her native afterlife forfeit if she's apprehended in another god's jurisdiction for crimes against reality?" "Can a death god in a dimension where wandering ghosts are banned incarcerate a ghost from a dimension where wandering is legal?" "How does a soul's right to claim an afterlife weigh against an afterlife's right to claim a soul?" "Who has the right to judge a deceased mortal in the first place?"

The Axolotl personally thought that mortals deserved to be treated as mercifully as possible—starting with respecting the dead's own choice of afterlife above all others, and ending with outlawing damnation at the interdimensional level.

The rest of the multiverse... didn't agree with him yet. He didn't intend to stop until they did.

He went on, "Case law has long established that unless the dead made other arrangements premortem, they will be taken to—in order—the afterlife of their birth, their death, or their choice. The afterlife under whose jurisdiction the triangle lived and died has been destroyed, so he can go to any afterlife that says they're willing to take him, whether or not you think it's what he deserves—"

VENDOR's camera rolled and THEY impatiently beeped acknowledgment. "Do you mind, I'm on the phone." THEY turned THEIR back on the Axolotl to focus on THEIR next call. Yeah, most gods didn't like being told they couldn't just smite and damn whoever they felt like.

The storm cloud called the Axolotl's attention with a fork of lightning. It said, "I'll need to help coordinate the rescue efforts with VENDOR. I can get the report on what you learned in there from the engineering inspector; but you need to go talk to some of the witnesses of the fire. Maybe you should ask the Vitruvian Mandala when He's free."

That was the second time it had told him to talk to the refugees. "Why?"

"You said that yellow triangle's your friend, right?"

"I... did, yes."

The cloud didn't explain any further. It only said, "Be careful around him."

####

VENDOR bustled around making preparations to receive ten million new refugees with absolutely no input from anyone else on the scene; the cloud's time was split between coordinating with the ATTF and getting a full debrief from the Time Giant on the conditions inside Dimension Zero; and left alone, the Axolotl found himself staring into the roiling barrier around the bloated singularity.

He swore, no matter where he looked, in the center of his view he could see a tiny, yellow, triangular pinprick of light, like an afterimage burned into his retina. No matter how deeply he looked into Dimension Zero, somehow his eyes always seemed focused on the triangle, making it appear nearer and then farther, like an optical illusion.

Be careful around him. He wished his Oracle were here to ask him questions. Helping her mortal mind make sense of this whole affair might help him make sense of it himself.

He'd seen the horror in the triangle's eye when he realized that he was the one incinerating the dimensions that had once bordered his own. He'd heard the sincerity in the triangle's voice when he said he could feel the deaths of every life that fell into his dream realm—the deaths that he himself was causing. He'd felt the guilt pouring from the triangle when he realized his efforts to save "his people" from being killed were what was killing them. Whatever else the Axolotl knew, he was sure the triangle hadn't meant to cause anyone harm. He hadn't started the fires on purpose. He just... didn't know what he was doing.

And "his people"—what did that mean?

Maybe some of the people in the triangle's dance party were from his dimension. The Axolotl couldn't totally confirm that they weren't; if the triangle had somehow survived, then why not others?

But it was undeniable that the triangle had been "rescuing"/kidnapping people from other dimensions, and he talked about the people he'd rescued no differently from the people from his own dimension.

Why? Had members of his species spread to neighboring dimensions? Or had his species come from another? Had his people established diplomatic relationships with cultures in neighboring universes, enough for them to consider themselves one people?

"Certainly not," said the Vitruvian Mandala.

He was a god from one of the worlds in Dimension 2 Gamma that the ATTF had managed to evacuate before the dimension was fully incinerated. Now, He was just another refugee, huddled with His confused, terrified people on one of the temporary worlds provided by VENDOR, curved uncomfortably atop the spherical planet. He had to be reeling from the loss of His home just as much as His people were—if not more, since He had known and seen and done and loved much more that any single mortal could. But nevertheless, He'd immediately stepped up to assist with organizing the rescue services, acting as a liaison between VENDOR and the 2D mortals to find new homes for them.

And some of His people had been among the ones dragged into Dimension Zero—which was no doubt why the cloud had suggested the Axolotl speak to Him.

The Vitruvian Mandala may have been a minor creation god (He'd only created a galaxy) but He was more than powerful enough to know whether any of His people had ever made interdimensional contact. The Axolotl had waited until He had a moment to spare from assisting VENDOR, and then asked Him about their relationship with Dimension 2 Delta.

"I seeded life on all the populated worlds in My galaxy. None of My worlds have ever so much as been colonized by another galaxy in Our own dimension, much less people from another dimension," He said. "And We're a young galaxy—the most advanced starfarers have hardly ventured beyond their own solar systems; none have left Our dimension."

"And they've never spoken to other dimensions...?"

"No. The first contact We ever had with 'Dimension 2 Delta'—or what was left of it—was when the Magister Mentium began dragging My people into his underworld. The leaders I've had a chance to speak to from Dimension 2 Epsilon and Dimension 2 Zeta have told Me the same. " He called the triangle 'Magister Mentium' without any of the halting awkwardness the Axolotl did, or even the self-consciousness the triangle himself did. The Vitruvian Mandala had never known the triangle as anything but the Magister Mentium—and in His voice, it sounded not like an oversized title for a tiny triangle, but like the name of a fellow god.

But—the Axolotl had only asked the Vitruvian Mandala about Dimension 2 Delta. He hadn't brought up the Magister Mentium, nor mentioned that he was asking about the kidnapped people. "How did you know about the Magister Mentium?"

The Vitruvian Mandala said simply, "Because he introduced himself to My people before he started stealing them."

At the Axolotl's shocked silence, He said, "Do you want to see what they saw?"

####

When the agents with the ATTF had started interviewing survivors about the cosmic fire, naturally, they'd first approached the other gods for information. And then the gods had approached the mortals under their charge to get their testimonies and pass them on to the apoc agents.

The Vitruvian Mandala had telepathically extracted His people's memories and copied them into tiny glassy discs with brass rims. He sifted through dozens of discs before offering the memory of a narrow rhombus from one of His most technologically advance worlds; and the Axolotl stared through the disk to experience the mortal's memory.

The memory started with a sight that had become all too familiar to the Axolotl: a distant line of burning blue fire. It took a moment for the Axolotl to orient himself to the mortal's razor-thin two-dimensional view of her world; but once he did, he realized that, from her perspective, it wasn't a line of light. To her, it was the entire sky. The constellations of faraway flat stars had vanished, and their place was taken by an inferno.

The whole world reeked of a stench that the rhombus didn't recognize, but that the Axolotl did: burning hydrogen. In most dimensions, three-fourths of all the matter in the entire universe—including the very stars themselves—consisted of hydrogen molecules. Hydrogen burned a pale blue. The stench in the air, the pale blue light filling the sky, was the smell and sight of the raw materials of reality itself burning away.

The nearby buildings had emptied into the city streets as people abandoned their work to coming outside and stare at the burning sky. Somewhere—it seemed very far away—people were screaming, sirens were wailing, government proclamations were issuing out of radios and loudspeakers; but on these streets, on the border of the city where the sky was most visible, everyone was horribly silent.

An eerie feeling of unreality hung over the world. It felt like a scene out of a dream. The rhombus's heart filled with dread. She didn't understand why or how the sky was burning, but she felt in her bones that it must mean the end of the world.

She never imagined that it was the end of the entire universe.

And then, more real than reality itself, bright enough to blind, a radioactive-yellow shape appeared in the middle of the crowd. Over the gasps of shock, a voice that echoed between the buildings proclaimed, "Gooood evening! Lines, bis, and tris; quads, quints, and more—my beloved believers and my new friends—I'm sure you all recognize my voice from the news, but it's a pleasure to finally meet you all in the flesh!"

She wasn't sure he had any flesh to meet. He was ghostlike, as insubstantial as smoke—and just as formless as smoke, too: his shape constantly shimmered and shifted and distorted, his skin appearing and disappearing as his internal organs were exposed; one moment a leg visible, the next a hand, then no limbs at all, just his blindingly bright body. His organs were all wrong. When she could stand to squint at the specter's light, in the split seconds that his ghostly form was properly visible, she thought he looked like a triangle.

(She'd never seen the third dimension, never even attempted to imagine what a 3D shape might look like. She didn't realize his appearance shifted because he was a 2D shape tilting in 3D directions trying to lay flat on the 2D plane of Dimension 2 Gamma, and not quite succeeding. )

"Allow me to introduce myself properly: I'm the Magister Mentium, seer of the third dimension! Your gateway to the stars and stardom, your guide to prophets and profits, your mastermind and master of minds; and, if you're lucky, your new eternal party host! I'm sure the honor's all yours—but please, resist the urge to swoon! I have a limited time offer that you cannot afford to miss."

For all his self-aggrandizing, the triangle was still completely unfamiliar. She didn't see recognition in the eyes of any of the shapes around them, either. She doubted he'd ever actually been on the news at all, unless it was in one of those dubious programs about ghost hunting or UFOs.

But the triangle charged on regardless: "I'm here to bring you salvation from— Whoops! We've got a crying baby over here. Sorry junior, I'm on stage right now." She hadn't even noticed the crying until the triangle pointed it out; the whole world seemed dull and muffled and gray except for the triangle. One of his arms stretched in the child's direction and disappeared; there was a split-second flash of black fingers where the baby used to be; and then both hand and baby vanished, the baby's cries morphing into a shriek of terror that slowly faded into the unseeable distance.

"My baby!" a rectangle wailed. She rushed up to the alien triangle. "What did you do to my baby, you—" She tried to seize his arm, and let out a howl of pain as her hands burst into flame.

"Calm down, Mama, your little brat's okay!" He reached out and flicked the rectangle back. His finger hit her with the force of a catapult. She tumbled away from him through dimensions unknown, skins and bone and organs turning inside-out over each other; and slammed into a nearby building, fusing with the wall. All that was visible of her was a thin cross section of meat. The rhombus couldn't imagine where the rest of her had gone—but she could smell the burning flesh.

"Too bad I can't say the same of you." The triangle turned to stare them all down, gaze darting restlessly from face to face. His pupil was bizarrely long, animal-like; and his gaze burned. She was sure that, if his gaze had lingered on her a moment longer, she would have caught fire, too. "We're burning time, people! Would anyone else like to be excused? Last call!"

There were a few whispers, but no one moved. The crowd was petrified with fear.

"Terrrrific! Then you'd better listen close, because I only have time to say this once," the triangle said. "Here's the deal! There's only two kinds of people: the ones who hate captivity, and the ones who love it. Oh yeah, there are people who love it! Some of 'em like inflicting it, some of 'em are too stupid to think for themselves, and some of 'em just want to do terrible things and pretend they had no choice!

"But I'm here to help the rest of you—you know who you are! You're the ones who never quite tessellated with the other kids! The ones who are sick and tired of your family saying you had so much potential and asking where it's all gone! You can feel the barbs of social obligation hooking into your flesh—yeah, you there, you know what I'm talking about, I see you!—and you'd rip your own skin off if you thought it would set you free! It won't, by the way—take it from a guy who knows! Luckily for you, my way's more effective and less painful! Probably!"

In spite of their fear, more than a few shapes had started pushing closer to the triangle. He was speaking to them.

"So if you crave freedom—from work, laws, morality, physics... death..."

More than a few shapes glanced fearfully toward the sky.

"...if you want to see the stars with me—then raise your hand! Reach out to me! Watch your enemies burn and escape to a realm of dreams with no rules and no responsibilities! That's right, this way!"

As soon as he said raise your hand, it seemed like half the crowd stretched their hands out to him —and the longer he spoke, the more reached out.

She recognized some of the people reaching out—some of them were her neighbors and friends. Here was a beaten-down pentagon who'd spent his whole life being controlled, and just wanted freedom from the ruthless monsters who used and abused him. There was a controlling circle who'd spent her whole life using and abusing others, and wanted freedom to be an even more ruthless monster. They all reached toward the triangle just the same—as if they'd been waiting their whole lives for an opportunity to escape. The desperate, the downtrodden, the dastardly, the barely daring to hope. If the whole burning world felt like a bizarre dream, then this must have felt like a dream come true to them.

But to the rhombus, it felt like a nightmare. She had to fight through the crowd to back away from him.

"No need to push! If you can't see me, just hold your hand toward my voice, I can see you!"

The smell of burning existence was growing stronger.

Was this a test? An approaching apocalypse and a shapeshifting god of light and fire offering a last-minute rapture. The sky was burning—what hope did they have if they didn't go with him? More of the crowd was reaching for him now—terrified of him, but more terrified of their fate if they didn't. The rhombus reluctantly stretched out a hand.

"Thaaat's right, this way! I've got all of you!" His voice was taking on an edge of impatience. "Just—come on already! Hurry up!"

She was at just the right angle to catch a split second glimpse of the triangle through the crowd. She saw as the person closest to him reached out and grasped his hand. She saw as the first of the triangle's new followers burst into flames. The unlucky soul crumbled to ash before they had a chance to scream.

"I said no pushing."

The rhombus jerked her hand back and hoped the triangle hadn't seen her through the crowd. He wasn't offering salvation.

Most of the crowd wasn't lucky enough to get a view of the unfortunate shapes at the front who were already learning what a deal with the triangle entailed. The rhombus could hear people, as though from a vast distance, calling out to the triangle: "Take me, take me!" "I'll do anything!" It seemed like the whole world was trying to get closer to him; she thought she was the only one trying to move away, until she made it as far back as she could, where the crowd was thinning out, and caught a few other shapes in her peripheral vision who'd moved the same way. More than half the crowd was rushing in toward the triangle.

But apparently, it wasn't enough to satisfy him. "Come on, people!" That enthusiastic voice, halfway between a salesman and a camp counselor, was gone now. His voice went shrill with anxiety. "What's it gonna take?! I'm offering you idiots paradise, why won't you listen? Why don't you ever LISTEN TO ME?!"

For a moment, even though the triangle was completely hidden by the crowd, the rhombus could feel his fiery gaze sweep over her. She felt the way her skin threatened to burst into flames, and she knew he saw her.

She backed away until her rear angle bumped into the nearest building.

"Fine! You've had your chance! I've found my people!" The triangle's voice dropped to an angry snarl. "For all I care, the rest of you can burn."

For every hand that stretched out to the triangle, a black hand reached back toward them—dozens and dozens of hands. "Let's blow up this popsicle stand!"

He seized his new believers' hands.

Most of them instantly burst into flames.

Most of the rest were either jerked away into some unseeable direction like the baby had been, or else the burning ghost hand they were shaking yanked something out of them, leaving behind a dry corpse.

Reality warped and distorted in ways her eye couldn't make sense of: buildings wobbling and spilling apart like they were made of liquid; people twisting together with the buildings in sickening multi-corpsed abominations.

"Whoopsie!" The triangle let out a shrill, tittering laugh. It sounded pained. "S-still gotta get the hang of that. Oh well!" He spoke louder and faster. "I saved as many of you as I could, doing the best I can here, the rest of you don't matter, anyway byyye!"

And then he was gone.

And then they were all awake. She hadn't known they were asleep. Whatever happened hadn't been a mere shared nightmare; it was as though the layer of existence that dreams happened on had been pressed into the layer of existence where reality happened, and she hadn't even noticed until the pressure applied by the triangle lifted and the layers popped apart again.

The layers had popped apart too hard. Several of the shapes nearest the triangle that he hadn't taken with him instantly died—the tether between their souls on the plane of dreams and their bodies on the plane of reality snapped like overstretched rubber bands.

The fused corpse abominations had been left behind, still tangled and mangled with the architecture. The buildings were charred. The survivors were covered in burns they hadn't noticed—everywhere the triangle had looked was burned. Anything the triangle looked through was burned.

She was covered in burns. She could feel the burning inside her body. She raised her hands to her face and felt it peeling off.

She couldn't even feel the bright blue fires roaring down from the heavens.

And then something else lifted her out of the world, just before the reality around them began to burn.

She didn't know where all the people the triangle had taken had gone. But as she blacked out, of one thing she was sure: this higher dimension he'd claimed to see, this realm of stars and dreams? They weren't there.

Wherever they were, they'd gone down.

####

When the Axolotl emerged from the recorded memory, he was dizzy with horror. He had to lay down on the prefab planet next to the Vitruvian Mandala while he reeled.

"Are you all right?" the Vitruvian Mandala asked.

Broken, the Axolotl said, "he threw a baby."

"I know."

"Is the baby alright?"

Delicately, He said, "It's beyond the dimensions I'm able to sense."

The Axolotl curled his gills. Not the baby. "What about the rhombus?"

"Her body was too burned; she died shortly after this memory," the Vitruvian Mandala said. "But fortunately, only a small part of her ghost suffered third degree burns. With an ectoplasm graft she's expected to recovery enough to have a fairly normal afterlife. Inasmuch as any afterlife can be considered 'normal' for My people now."

The Axolotl had noted how many ghosts were mingling with the living mortals when he arrived on this planet. He hadn't wanted to say anything; he didn't know whether that was normal for their people. "I can give you the contact rituals of some interdimensional psychopomps I respect. Very professional and compassionate gods." Although they'd be cursing the Axolotl's name for millennia for throwing so much work on their desks.

"I'd appreciate that. Thank you."

The Axolotl returned the memory disc to the Vitruvian Mandala; He momentarily stared into it Himself before returning it to His collection. "He gave speeches like this all across My populated worlds. I've retrieved thousands of memories like this from My people." His voice shook; the Axolotl couldn't tell if it was with anger or grief. "There would have been more—if more had survived."

"I'm so sorry." He didn't know what else he could do for the poor god but be sorry. All the senseless, slapdash slaughter. All of it so casual and accidental.

"Why?" the Vitruvian Mandala demanded. "He didn't speak like he meant My people harm, but he couldn't have done them more harm if he'd tried! I've never heard of him before—what is he, some malevolent trickster god? Why did he do it"

"Because... he thought he was saving them." That was the only thing the Axolotl could cling to.

####

(Thanks for reading!! If the art lured you in and this is the first chapter you read, this is part 5 of a 7-or-8-or-9 part fic that keeps getting more parts, about the Axolotl in the immediate aftermath of the Euclidean Massacre. I'll be posting one chapter a week, Fridays 5pm CST, so stick around if you wanna watch the Axolotl run out of ways to pretend Bill didn't destroy his own dimension.

It's ALSO chapter 65 of an ongoing post-canon post-TBOB very-reluctantly-human Bill fic. So if you wanna read more of me writing Bill, check it out. If you're not sold on the idea of a human Bill fic, I've also got a one-shot about normal triangle Bill escaping the Theraprism if you wanna read that.

If this is NOT your first time here and you already knew all of the above: Bill got SO CLOSE to looking like a misguided good guy last chapter, and that's why he had to throw a baby.

No actually it was because it seemed really really funny. Flipped that flat little thing like a pancake.

Due to real-world reasons, this is another chapter that isn't as edited & polished as usual, so let me know if you noticed any rough spots that need buffing. And let me know what you think! Bill with his cult leader persona cranked up to 100% is probably the hardest Bill to write.)

#gravity falls axolotl #the axolotl #(for the actual chapter)#bill cipher #(for the art. and also the chapter)#gravity falls #gravity falls fic #gravity falls fanart #fanart #my art #my writing #bill goldilocks cipher

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aqqleshiqqing-archive · 1 year ago

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me and my husband after making a contract with a little cat looking creature

#HOKDHTHRHFUFJCOFJFBDHSJDJTNDJFJDOOMYMUKULOUOHJHMHKGKKD #HODLDTHEHFUCUCKIG PHOKE MILOOOOOOIKCMRYRIGJNFIKCJEHSJKSKKDJDJOWOWKWKW #WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU COLORED;?;?;?;?;?;?;!!:! );-OHYMGOGIFUFHDHABABABA A A ABHSHHAHAJAA IM PUKLINGNMYHAJRIAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA #MY JOKER ARC IS HAPPENING IM GOING INSANE AHAHAHEHSHEHE STEVEN LAUGHTER AAAAHAAAAAAAAAAAAAA #FIRST OFF IM JUST SO OVERWHELMED KNOWING HOW MUCH YOU IMPROVED LIKE JASPWR OS SO FUCKIGN HAPPY RO BE HERE #AND HE HAS. MASS. ON HIS BODY. I DON'T MEAN TO SOUNF WEIRD HELP #HES SO FCUKING CUYE THE STUPID RIBBONSBAHSGRJAKAKAKAKANAKAKAKALALW #LOOK I LEARNED ENOUGH ABOUT THIS FUCKIN SHOW BECAUSE OF YOU AND NERO MAKING REFERENCES I THINK I CAN SAY BIG HES HERE #YES* BIG YES #STEVEN LOOKS SO NEUTRAL IMAAHHAKAKAKKAJSSHSBDHSJAJAKS #IM GIGGLGIGN SO HARD I FUCKING MISS THEM AAAAAAAA #JAEVEN IN CURRENT ART STYLE!?!?!!??!?!?;?;?;? IM SO GIGDYDYSH #I WILL TRHOW UP #RHE OUTFIT LOOKS SO CUYE ON JASPER I FUCKING SWEAR. ON MIKIS FUCKING GRAVE #milo tag #~ others ships #i need to cry so bad i fucking miss these losers so much in hr style #i can look at your old art of these two and go DAMN im so fuckin proud of you MWA

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justlemmeadoreyou · 8 months ago

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meet-cute

okayyyy so here is something short n shitty on these new pics that my brain whipped up! tell me if you like this!

words: 1.3k~ish

warnings: flirting, fluff.

***

You loved coming out to this little nook to capture scenes of the city on canvas. Today felt especially inspiring with the beautiful spring weather.

You begin laying out your brushes and squeezing out vibrant shades of paint onto your palette. Losing yourself in the simple motions, you barely notice the passersby around you. That is, until a very familiar voice pipes up from behind.

"Excuse me, miss? Your paintings are absolutely lovely."

You freeze, brush hovering in the air. No, it couldn't be... Slowly, you turn around and your jaw drops. There, flashing his signature dimpled grin, stands Harry Styles himself. Your ultimate celebrity crush in the flesh, mere feet away.

"H-Harry? Harry Styles?" you stammer out, eyes wide.

He chuckles softly. "The one and only. I'm out on a morning stroll and I couldn't help but stop to admire your work. You've got a brilliant talent there."

Your cheeks flush bright pink. "Oh my gosh, thank you! You're—you're really here. I can't believe it!"

Trying not to completely fangirl and scare him off, you take a deep breath to collect yourself. Harry Styles is complimenting your art. This is actually happening.

"Sorry, I'm just—wow, I'm such a huge fan of yours. Your music means so much to me."

He smiles warmly. "I'm glad you enjoy it, love. Say, would you maybe be interested in doing a little commission for me? Painting my portrait?"

You nearly drop your palette right then and there. "You want me to paint you? Like, really?"

"If you're up for it, yeah! I'd be honoured."

Nodding fervently, you scramble to set up a fresh canvas on your easel. "Yes, absolutely! I'd love to! Just...just tell me how you'd like to pose."

As Harry arranges himself into a relaxed seated position, you take a moment to study his striking features. From the soft chestnut curls framing his face to those entrancing emerald eyes, he is perfect subject material. Your heart pounds rapidly in your chest.

"Okay, perfect, just like that. Stay right there and I'll get started!"

You take a steadying breath before putting brush to canvas, carefully mapping out Harry's form in broad strokes. The two of you fall into an easy back-and-forth conversation as you work, chatting about everything from his latest album to your shared hometown.

"I've gotta say, your Cheshire accent is pretty damn charming," Harry remarks at one point with a playful wink.

You giggle shyly. "Why thank you, kind sir. Yours isn't too bad either."

Harry throws back his head with a deep, raspy chuckle that has your toes curling in your shoes. "Is that so, darling? Well in that case..." He leans in close enough for you to smell his intoxicating cologne, voice lowering to a sultry murmur. "Perhaps later you'll allow me to read you a bedtime story?"

"Harry!" you gasp in flustered exasperation, half-heartedly swatting his arm as he cackles victoriously. The two of you are so caught up in your playful banter that you barely notice the small crowd starting to gather, whispering and snapping photos as word spreads that the one and only Harry Styles is getting his portrait done.

Harry waves jovially at his fans but remains focused on you, keeping up the easy banter.

"How's it looking over there, Picasso? Doing me justice?"

Glancing up, you smirk. "Well, it's hard to improve upon perfection, but I'm giving it my best shot."

He smiles, and swears he felt his heart skip a beat at your words. "Such flattery! And here I thought you were just a pretty face with those big doe eyes."

You roll said eyes dramatically as your cheeks flush. "Oh, stop trying to put me off, you flirt!"

Over the next little while, you alternate between studying Harry's striking features with lazer-like intensity and flushing furiously whenever he catches you staring. At one point, he pointedly clears his throat.

"You know, most artists usually start on the face when doing portraits," he remarks with a teasing lilt.

Cheeks flaming again, you force your gaze away from the rippling muscles of his forearms where you'd been fixated like a teenager. "Hush you, I'm simply taking my time with the background work first."

"If you say so," he chuckles but obediently returns to stillness, allowing you to slowly build up brushstrokes on the canvas.

Time seems to fly by as your brush strokes bring Harry's image vibrantly to life on the canvas. The swarm of onlookers grows steadily bigger, phones clicking away to document the scene. Several times you have to politely ask people not to get too close and obstruct your view.

With one last few delicate strokes to bring out the shine in Harry's eyes, you finally lean back with a satisfied smile.

"Well, Mr. Styles...what do you think?"

Harry rises from his pose and steps over to admire your handiwork, lips parting in an impressed grin.

"Wow...Y/N, this is incredible! You captured me perfectly!"

You beam proudly, butterflies erupting in your stomach at his praise. "I had some pretty gorgeous subject matter to work with."

Chuckling, Harry carefully plucks the canvas from the easel. "You've definitely earned your payment and then some. Name your price, love."

After some back-and-forth haggling that has the crowd laughing, Harry hands over a generous sum of cash and pulls you in for a warm hug.

"Truly, thank you for this. I'll cherish it forever!"

You bite your lip shyly as he pulls away. "You're more than welcome. Can't say I mind immortalizing that handsome face on canvas."

Harry tosses you one last wink before turning to greet his clamoring fans, the sea of people quickly engulfing him and carrying him off down the street.

As he's shuffled away, Harry feels a pang of disappointment that he didn't get a chance to ask for your number or make plans to see you again. He spent the whole time shamelessly flirting and getting flustered by your adorable blushes and quips. Now he may never get the opportunity to take you out on an actual date.

Once he's finally escorted into his awaiting car, Harry lets out a frustrated huff and runs a hand through his tousled hair. He'd been so wrapped up in your captivating presence that he didn't even think to get your contact information before being mobbed. Rookie mistake.

"Stupid, stupid," he mutters under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Just as he's resigning himself to having let a potential connection slip through his fingers, something catches Harry's eye. He glances down at the canvas you had been painting him on, safely tucked onto the seat beside him, and a slow smile spreads across his face.

There, just peeking out from the backside wrapped around the frame, is a scribbled set of numbers. Hurriedly, Harry flips over the painting to inspect further. He lets out a delighted laugh at what he finds.

It's a phone number! Trailing below it in your handwriting are the words "In case you need your portrait updated ;) -Y/N"

♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡

feedback | masterlist |

taglist: @freedomfireflies @gurugirl @thechaoticjoy @styleslover-1994 @gem1712 @ellaorchard @bxbyysstuff @opheliaofficial07 @rafaaoli

@tchlamqtsgf @indierockgirrl @vrittivsanghavi @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @drewrry @me-undiscovered @tbsloneely

@whoreonmondays @kathb59 @avalentina @kittenhere @speedywritingharrystylesjudge @harryhitties

@mypolicemanharryyy @theendx888 @daphnesutton @youcan-nolonger-run @chesthairrry

@becauseheartsgetbroken-hs @hisparentsgallerryy @storyschanging @selluequestrian @swiftmendeshoran @princessaxoxo @tenaciousperfectionunknown @hermoinelove @chronicallybubbly @angeldavis777

@imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa

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riveroftales · 3 months ago

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Hello! Can I ask for Genya x reader who a artist and and designer? Basically reader draws alot of pretty outfits and would sometimes imagine Genya wearing fancy things and he caught the reader drawing him, sorry if this doesn't mean scene english is not my first language

✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩𝐂𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨𝐧✩✩✩✩✩✩✩✩

ɢᴇɴʏᴀ x ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ɴᴇᴜᴛʀᴀʟ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴍᴏᴅᴇʀɴ ᴀᴜ

𝖢𝖢'𝗌 𝖭𝗈𝗍𝖾: YOO IM FINALLY BACK TO WRITING🔥🔥

Art is vast. Music is art. Photography is art. Designing is art. Anything which uses one’s creativity is art.

Through all of that though, drawing is like the main stakeholder of art.

It was also how you expressed yourself.

Funny enough, a lot of your relatives told you that you had started drawing before you learned how to read or write. With time came practice, and with practice came skill.

Your art style had improved from 2D shapes and characters to semi realism and you loved how your own work had turned out. You learned how much you loved drawing your characters in beautiful clothes, so you took the fashion design course when you reached college.

But every artist has a muse, and you knew you found yours when you sat on a campus bench, drawing one of the trees out of boredom when you saw him.

You were never a fan of Mohawks because of how ridiculous it looked, but you were sure it was because it made just for him. His hair was long — long enough for you to run your fingers through, braid, style, do whatever you wanted with its length. The scar running across his face made you so curious about how he got it, wondering if you could feel it when you dragged your finger across it or if it was sunken in completely, letting you caress it without feeling the rough bumps and instead feeling the smoothness of his perfect skin. He was laughing with his friends as he ran with them. He was so tall and muscular, and you could tell he was a little intimidating and even scary. But his smile was so radiant you would think he was incapable of doing anything bad.

You learned his name was Genya when you overheard his friends call out for him one day. It easily slipped out your lips, like it was meant to be there.

He became your muse.

Every ideas you had for men’s clothing, you would draw him wearing it, and damn did he look great.

You just wished you never played your music so loud through your AirPods because while sitting under a tree, someone sat next to you and immediately took your pencil and book.

“Hey-!” You protested as you took out one of your AirPods before you instantly froze.

“My hair flows this way…” Genya said softly, adjusting your drawing. “And my scar’s a little longer at the end, but other than that, the drawing’s great.”

You were frozen in the spot. Neither of you had officially met, and your very first meeting was him corrections your portrait of him.

Crawling in a hole and dying in it wasn’t so bad after all.

Genya seemed to notice your lack of words, a small smile gracing his lips.

“I’m flattered to be your muse.. I’ve seen you draw me a lot in most of your sketches, and honestly, I’ve never looked better.”

“U-Uhm-”

He chuckled softly as he stuck his hand out.

“Can we let this be our official meeting?”

You slowly shook his hand.

It was rough and really calloused, but warm.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

#demon slayer #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #genya shinazugawa #genya fluff #kimetsu no yaiba genya #genya x you #kny genya #demon slayer genya #genya x y/n #kimetsu genya #genya x reader #Shinazugawa genya

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wildflowercryptid · 1 year ago

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now that kieran's champ look dropped, i could finally draw their mjverse designs for indigo disk. there's a 1 year timeskip between the 2 dlcs in my canon so i wanted to make them look a lil different to show that passage of time, ( carmine's not here bc i don't really see her look changing much. )

some info about what juliana and florian were up to during that 1 year gap under the cut! ⤵

JULIANA : after attaining her champion title and helping solve the team star situation, juliana's skills as a battler have become pretty well known around paldea. this new status initially ostracized her a bit from her peers, much like what nemona experienced, but she was able to show others that she was still just as approachable as she was before by tutoring some fellow students that wished to improve their battling skills. she's also realized that she really loves teaching others and is pretty damn good at it, too.

besides battling, juliana has also found a love of art thanks to hassel's art class. if you couldn't find her at the academy's battlefield, she'd most likely be working on a new piece in the art room. as a result, a lot of her clothes have speckled with paint ( like her favorite sneakers. ) seeing her passion for art and hoping to help her hone her skills, hassel took up the position as her mentor and is a great source of encouragement and support for her. juliana has also started dating penny soon after the end of post-game story.

FLORIAN : after getting back to mezagoza from his trip to kitakami, florian was a bit of an emotional wreak ( to say the least. ) he spent well over a month languishing over what happened with kieran, most of it spent moping around juliana and his shared dorm room while listening to heartbreak playlists. the rest was spent coming to the realization that his skills as a battler were still severely lacking. his last battle with kieran was an extremely close call, he only barely won with the skills he had gained during his journey through paldea. with how things were, there was no way he could fufill the duties of a pokémon professor if he couldn't effectively protect the pokémon entrusted to him, let alone himself or others he cares about. he couldn't keep resting on his laurels, he had to work towards improving himself.

so, for the past year, florian's poured himself into improving his battling skills with nemona and his sister's help. while he still isn't on their level, he's become quite the formidable battler. ogrepon, which he's given the nickname "pon-pon," has also become a staple of his team. the rest of his time is dedicated towards studying in the hopes of becoming pasio's next pokémon professor, being the most interested in mythology and terastallization. he still talks to arven frequently after he ( finally ) graduated, along with becoming friends with ortega and atticus. he even dated ortega briefly, but it was very clear that florian was still hung up on kieran so the relationship didn't last long, ( they're still good friends, though. )

when cyrano approaches the cavallari siblings and asks them to come to blueberry academy as exchange students, florian accepts the offer without hesitation. this could be his only chance to reconcile with kieran so there's no way he'd pass it up. juliana is happy to tag along since a school that focuses on battling sounds right up her alley, that and she's still peeved about not getting to go to kitakami. though, she's a little concerned for her brother and what may be waiting for him when they get there.

#i rambled under the cut please forgive me #i just needed to get my ideas out for the cavallari sibs #i don't know any spoilers but i just know a storm's brewing for florian #which i may end up pushing further if the plot allows it who knows #but yeah here are my kids enjoy #pokemon #pokemon scarlet and violet #pkmn scarvio #trainer juliana #trainer florian #rival kieran #pokemon kieran #hc : (pkmn) mjverse #chara : juliana sigal cavallari #chara : florian russel cavallari #chara : kieran hinoki #🎨 : mj draws #sv dlc spoilers #indigo disk spoilers

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rosenclaws · 3 months ago

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Ok first thing‘s first, I am absolutely adoring how you write these characters, Leopold in particular. Came for Logan and discovered a world of new possibilities 😄.

I was wondering what you‘d think of the idea of Leopold sketching stuff either because it looks nice, or to try and figure out how it works (new tech and stuff maybe, because I‘ve seen a clip at the beginning (?) of the film where he‘s drawing a bridge) either taking him places to draw stuff or finding a sketchbook of his by accident.

thanks for putting up with my brainworms,

love your work

ooo yes I love artist Leopold. Also sorry this took so long I've been swamped since last month asdfjhkl

Leopold and his Sketchbook

So in my head I think Leopold has a part of him that is incredibly technical and smart, I mean the man invented the elevator but he's got that soft artistic side to him too. He's literally both sides of the brain to perfection because of course he is.

I think he actually leans more towards the technical side of his brain than the creative one just because he thinks a lot. Like he likes to look at things and wonder just how they work and it lead to him sketching which improved his artistic ability.

The one thing he missed from his time was his notebook. It was filled with his old drawings and now it's gone. So of course you buy him one for the present day as well as some new art supplies.

I think he's constantly sketching. Just when he's walking around or even just at home. This world is full of new things for him to discover.

This is how you come home to find him dismantling your toaster. He doesn't know how to put it back. He promises to buy you a new one.

You cannot let this man walk around New York alone either. He will get lost because he sees something new and goes towards it. It's like a crow when they see something shiny. He could spend hours out just observing and sketching.

He fills his books with all kinds of things. I think he also starts to sketch people. Like he people watches from the fire escape of his apartment and there's just so many different characters in the city that he starts to draw them.

And of course he has pages dedicated to sketching you. He doesn't show them to you because he gets nervous. Would you think it was creepy? He just liked to sketch you in your natural beauty.

Anything you do he finds enchanting. So much so that he just wants to draw.

Eventually he needs a new sketchbook so you buy him one, finding his old one laying on his bedside table. You don't pry but when it falls on the floor and opens, you can't help yourself.

His drawings are beautiful. So detailed and intricate and then you find the ones of you.

They take your damn breath away. He draws you so beautifully, you wonder if this is how he sees you.

He finds you sitting on the floor going through his book. He gets shy at first but you're bursting with joy at his drawings, fawning over his art.

So he sits by your side and tells you the stories of each drawing. Even the ones of you. He speaks so eloquently that it's impossible to be bored.

He offers to teach you to draw one day and you happily accept.

God isn't he just perfect I swear.

#leopold mountbatten #leopold mountbatten x reader #leopold mountbatten headcanons #kate and leopold

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rockybloo · 24 days ago

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With it nearing the end of the year, I feel like it's a good time to just have some real talk about why I create art.

At some point during in high school, during those years where you are pressured to figure out what you want to do when you grow up and what you want to major in when you go to college, I had wanted to go to art school after high school. I decided against it ultimately because I just didn't see a true appeal for me. I started to realize that I enjoyed my art so much more when I didn't have the pressure on me to create something for a fancy final product. Yeah, I could go but then I'd have to change aspects of myself I didn't really want to change but had to because that's what the world says I gotta do if I want to be a good artist.

And that's the thing I sort of hate the most about being able to create anything. You have to be good. Otherwise you are wasting your time. You aren't allowed to just make stuff for fun and for a hobby - you have to constantly be striving for improvement at a pace others have set for you. You can't just have it as a hobby. If you make art then it's expected that you make good art.

You're not allowed to be satisfied with being mediocre.

I've been actively posting my art online since I opened a Deviantart account way back in middle school. I'm 26, on my way to becoming 27. And as someone who has spent a solid decade online, I feel more certain than ever that I am a hobby artist. Having a fulltime job DEFINIATELY has helped me come to that conclusion but even before, I knew I liked to draw for fun. I don't like to stress about what I am sharing to cyberspace, I like just having this digital archive of stuff I've made and stories I've written.

I call myself a self indulgent artist because I'm incredibly selfish draw things I want and write stories I'd enjoy.

That's not to say I don't care that people enjoy my work and feel represented at times. I love it when people share how happy they feel when they see my OCs and read my stories. I'm happy I can fulfill some niches for people. Honestly, it'll always be crazy to me when I make something so damn specific that I wanna see and share it just for some other people to get excited. There are benefits to having a public digital archive your art and reactions people may have are one of them.

But ultimately I don't create to make others happy. If I did focus my art on just doing that, I promise you that my online presence and art would look DRASTICALLY different.

I share my stuff online because it's a whole lot easier to archive all my art as well as being able to share my stuff with the world and occasionally make some friends. Posting my art shows I was alive so MAYBE JUST MAYBE I will not be watered down when recalled in memories and people will always know I was insane about my OCs.

I'm pretty satisfied with be a mid artist. My finished work makes me happy, and what I care about is managing to create something of the fellas that reside in my head because seeing my OCs makes me happy...AND I'M THE ONLY SOURCE OF CONTENT FOR THEM SO I GOTTA COOK MY OWN FOOD AND EAT IT TOO--

ANYWAYS I am in no rush to level myself up. I'm 27 and human lifespans are pretty long. Even though it's slow and subtle, I have def been making improvements in my work...but mainly because there are aspects about my OCs that I occasionally realize I am struggling with and pull a "Do it for her" as I work on what I am having a hard time with. SURE they might not be improvements others would like to see but they are improvements that make me happy. And I am excited to see how my art develops over my existence on this planet.

...I am also excited to see if my black ass can finish any of my webcomics before I die. I KNOW I CAN DEF FINISH ONE OF 'EM I JUST DUNNO WHICH ONE IT'S GONNA BE! IT'S A RACE TO SEE WHO MAKES IT TO THE FINISH LINE BEFORE I KEEL OVER

#rocky rambles

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storiesbyjes2g · 7 days ago

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3.206 Snow bros

We sauntered into the kitchen, and I asked what we should make. Desi suggested scrambled eggs, toast, and bacon. Simple, just like her mom. I gathered all the ingredients from the fridge and showed her how to crack and scramble the eggs, but she seemed more keen on being my cheerleader rather than actually helping. It's all good, though. I'll get her cooking one of these days.

When I finished, she started to run out of the room, saying she was going to wake Sophia, but I caught her before she got too far. Her mommy had quite the night and needs the rest, heh. We ate pretty quickly but lingered at the table in hopes Sophia would join us. I hadn't talked to Dub in a while, so I called for a quick chat and to wish him an early Merry Winterfest.

Life has been kinda crazy for him, too. Tami started school, his father-in-law moved in next door, and now their cat died. Tami is taking it pretty hard. Maia too, since it was hers. I gave our pets age-down treats a while ago to avoid that pain while grieving my parents, but I know we can't escape it forever. I can only hope, when the time comes, my Desi will be strong. When things calm down, I'll have to ask him how he handled it with Tami.

Sophia finally got up and joined us just as I wrapped up my phone call. Desiree bolted out of her chair and lunged toward Sophia.

"Mommy, I made breakfast!!"

Sophia gasped.

"You did? That's wonderful, sweetie! It looks soooo good."

"Thank yoooou!"

I side eyed her so hard.

"Are you for real?"

She was overcome with a fit of giggles, and I could do nothing but laugh and shake my head at her.

She may not have helped me cook, but she washed the dishes, which I thoroughly thanked her for.

I checked the weather forecast for the day, and the temperature concerned me. It was much too cold to go hiking, and who knows how much colder it'll be on the mountain, so I decided we'd stay inside and enjoy the house today. Sophia was definitely onto something with all her luxury rental choices. I always said she was smarter than me.

Desiree ran off to the living room to watch cartoons, and Sophia hopped in the shower, so I went upstairs to see if my non-existent art skills had improved at all. I tried painting for the first time with Maira at the romance festival and quickly realized I did not inherit gammy's skills. But I had nowhere to go and not much else to do, so I gave it a shot. Who knows... I could have inherited her skills and they've just been dormant until now, heh.

My painting was looking pretty damn good, if I may say so. Maybe there was something to these alleged dormant skills. Even if it's not true, I really enjoyed doing it. Something about starting with an empty space and watching something come together was really nice. I even enjoyed the sound of the brush strokes sweeping across the canvas. The whole situation was rather soothing. No wonder gammy loved it so much. I might continue doing this for my own well being.

Desi's hurried footsteps echoed in the stairwell, and I knew my relaxation was about to come to an end.

"Are we going to the mountain today?"

"I don't think so, hon. It's super cold out there."

"But-"

Sophia's presence interrupted us.

"Oh...you paint now?"

"No? I have no clue. I'm just trying it."

"It looks good."

"Yeah, it surprised me, too."

"Why can't we go to the mountain?" Desiree asked.

"I told you," I said. "It's too cold."

"But it was cold when we went to the park, too!"

"What park?" Sophia asked.

"When I took them to the football thing in Copperdale."

"I mean, you had to know it was gonna be cold when you visit Mt. Komorebi in winter," Sophia said.

Of course I knew that. I'm not a dunce. I just... Frankly, I wasn't even thinking about the weather. I had hiking and snowboarding and sledding with my child on the brain.

"We can get snowsuits," she added. "If we don't go today, we're gonna be forced to forgo one of our activities on the last day."

They both made good points, and we all know my rationale was rubbish, so I agreed to a day of snow fun. We all got dressed and stopped by the vacation gear kiosk in Senbamachi on the way. Sophia and Desiree got matching purple snow suits, and they were so adorable. If I had a son, would he want to dress like me? Or is that a girl thing? Neither I nor Desiree wanted to wear helmets, but Sophia insisted we be safe. I told her we were going to stay on the bunny slope where the babies go sledding. Still, she insisted. Since nothing would change her mind, I made sure my outfit was on point even though I'd still look like goober in a helmet on the bunny slope.

Sophia wasn't keen on sledding, so Desi and I trekked up the hill to get in line. When it was our turn, we walked toward a lane. Desi tugged on my coat.

"Daddy, I wanna go fast!"

Sophia will have our heads if we tried anything dangerous. But what's the point of coming all the way to Mt. Komorebi without having a little adventure? We've got the helmets. Let's live a little!

"I got you," I said to her.

I skipped over the lane we were about to go down and opted for one with obvious bumps in it. Nothing too crazy, but it would definitely spice things up a bit.

"Hold on very tight," I said.

"Let's go, Daddy! I wanna go!"

I kicked us off slowly so we wouldn't have crazy momentum when we hit the bump. When we got there, we hit it ever so slightly, and our sled went flying. Desiree's exhilarated screams filled the air. Unfortunately, it also got Sophia's attention, and I saw her panicking at the bottom of the hill.

Our flight lasted a little longer than we anticipated, however, and gravity caught up with us. The sled fell from under us, and Desi wasn't holding on. She screamed, and I panicked. I thought for sure we'd end up crashing.

But, as gravity does, we eventually dropped back down onto the sled as it made its final descent before it made contact again. We recovered and realized it wasn't scary at all.

We continued barreling down the hill without anymore incidents and got off the sled.

"You okay?" I asked.

"That was awesome!"

#ISBI challenge #sims 4 story #sims 4 gameplay #adolting #adolting gen 3 #luca winston murillo #sophia aguilar #desiree amari murillo

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hywonuka · 2 months ago

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lost all my dignity | jww

every step that i take is a mistake to you, chapter 2

Sypnosis: 2 weeks into the dare and Wonwoo feels like he has made no progress, but he doesn’t pressure himself. After all, he has time. Or at least that’s what he thought, as someone new comes on the scene.

Pairing: college!wonwoo x college!fem!reader

Genre: college au, falling for a bet or dare trope, slow burn

Warnings: cursing, jealous wonwoo

Word count: 1.8K

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3

Cold January mornings were one of Wonwoo’s biggest enemies. Waking up early on a cold January morning was his biggest enemy. Make it even worse by waking up early on Sunday, but he couldn’t say no to Jeonghan whenever he called him to eat breakfast together. Even if it meant leaving the comfort of his bed, he couldn’t ditch one of his closest friends, so he got up and picked up some of his warmest clothes, as he has a busy day today. He wasn’t only meeting up with Jeonghan for breakfast, but also for tutoring some junior student and, after lunch, he was meeting up with Y/N. He froze as he remembered that.

The task given to them wasn’t the most difficult, but it required a lot of work. Y/N thought of displaying some of the Art and Design students artwork, and needed screens for that. But she also needed everything to be perfect, as she had insisted to Wonwoo. There were also some Dramatic Art’s students that wanted to do a performance, which required the need of a computer engineer and, of course, Wonwoo was asked to do it.

He sighed as he left his dorm room, carrying all what he needed for today in his backpack. At least he would get to spend some time with Y/N, which he needed. It has already been 2 weeks of the dare, and he has made no improvement. He can’t afford losing against Vernon, not when his dignity was in game.

“You seem pretty lost in thought” Jeonghan pointed out, as he took a sip of his dark coffee. “Have a lot on mind lately”.

“Is it about the open day stuff?? It’s at the beginning of March, I don’t even know why she is so eager on getting stuff done now”

“She said something about the Dramatic Art’s students needing to practice for their performance or something like that”. The tallest one said, taking a bite of his chocolate croissant. It’s not like he minded , after all it benefits him, and he also liked helping her.

“Damn…” Wonwoo looked at the blonde guy suspiciously. He knew his friend and knew there was something behind that damn.

“What is it?”

“Nothing”

“Liar” Jeonghan shrugged his shoulders, laughing, which made Wonwoo wonder what did his friend have in mind, but he couldn’t ask, as Vernon suddenly appeared and took a seat next to him. The youngest one smiled at his friends and took a bite of Wonwoo’s breakfast.

“Morning fellas” He said, munching the piece of croissant he stole from the one with glasses. “Hmmm, dark chocolate, great choice Wonwoo”

“I didn’t give you permission to eat my food, idiot” The youngest one stuck his tongue at Wonwoo, while Jeonghan laughed at them.

“Well, well, Vernon, do you happen to have any plans today?”

“Not really, today is my day off, why?”

“Would you come to the cinema with me? I proposed it to Wonwoo, but he is busy with some lady” Wonwoo rolled his eyes. Of course, Vernon smirked when he listened to that, and decided to tease Wonwoo.

“Oooh, are you finally overcoming your fear of women?? Will you ask her out, huh?” The tallest one looked at his friend, serious. He wanted to slap him. How could he ask her out if he can’t even make small talk without freaking out?

“Vernon, behave. You shouldn’t tease him that much, c’mon, he might finally lose his virginity!!” As those words escaped Jeonghan’s mouth, both him and Vernon started laughing loudly, driving all the attention to their table, while Wonwoo could feel his cheeks turning red. Why did they have to keep mentioning that, for God’s sake!!

Before he could speak up, the sudden entrance of two people at the cafeteria made him shut down. It was Y/N and… Chan.

From the last weeks, Wonwoo had learnt that they both were really close, something he didn’t like. At all. He couldn’t explain why it bothered him so much, it just bothered him. Vernon and Jeonghan noticed the change of demeanour of his friend, and quickly discovered why.

“Scared you are gonna lose because she already has a boyfriend?” Vernon whispered, unable to Jeonghan to listen. Wonwoo threw his napkin at him. He didn’t want to admit it, but the thought of her and Chan dating made him feel uneasy.

꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.°.‧ ꩜‧.°.𖦹 .°.‧꩜ ‧.°. 𖦹.

The day passed by pretty quickly, and now Wonwoo found himself in the Art and Design faculty building, looking for Y/N and getting whatever she had on mind done. He had a hard time tutoring today, and wasn’t in the mood of doing anything at all. So, when he finally found her, laughing along with Chan (God, did he know the concept of personal space?), his face completely changed. He was annoyed, but only because he didn’t want to lose that dare.

“Oh, hi Wonu!” Wonwoo faked a smile at the nickname Y/N had picked for him. She thought it was cute and fitted him. He wouldn’t say he secretly enjoyed when she said that. “Hey, you two. Why is he here?”

“Wonu, this is Chan, one of Dramatic Art former students. Chan, this is Wonu, he is in charge of all the electronic part”

Wonwoo already knew Chan. He met the short blonde guy at some Jeonghan’s party a couple years ago. He even remembers he was accompanying her. Maybe they have been secretly dating since then?

“It's a pleasure” The tall one said, shaking hands with the other guy. “The pleasure is mine”

“Chan will be joining us today with the preparations!! He takes part in the performance, so i thought it would be nice if he was around, telling us how to display the screens better”

So he was there basically to do part of his job? Great, what a way to finish the day. This only made things worse, how is he even gonna dare to break a couple just for a stupid bet?! He was better than that.

He needed to know if it was just the voices in his head or if they were both truly dating, so he did what a normal person would do: ask someone else.

[wonwoo]: hey hao

[wonwoo]: can i ask u smth?

He waited, as he pretended to be connecting some wires to his laptop. God, what was taking his friend so long?!

[minghao psycho]: sure

God, finally. Wonwoo looked around, making sure both of them were busy doing whatever.

[wonwoo]: are y/n and chan dating????

He could see his friend typing. Oh, great, he can see it coming. Minghao was gonna scold him for not caring if she was already with someone else earlier.

[minghao psycho]: not that im aware

[minghao psycho]: but they are hella close

[wonwoo]: thx man

Wonwoo sighed. Well, Minghao didn’t scold him, that was something good. He was about to put his phone in his back pocket, when a sudden vibration made him look again. It was Minghao. Okay, now he was fucked up.

[minghao psycho]: honestly i cant believe you are asking this NOW and to ME like wtf??? you have been 2 weeks onto this dare and you only care bout her relationship status when you realize she might be taken?? and not only that, you come ask me?? im not even close to them dude

[wonwoo]: ur girl is

[minghao psycho]: im not asher

[minghao psycho]: hope they are actually dating so you feel bad bout attempting to break a couple

[minghao psycho]: was about to type breaking as if you actually could lmao

Wonwoo was tempted to block Minghao. God, yeah, he was wrong about the whole dare thing, but he was drunk and didn’t think straight when he accepted, and now it’s not like he could back out and pretend it never happened. He had to win this. His pride was in game at this point.

He looked back at Chan and Y/N. They were focused on their conversation, acting touchy and laughing with each other. The sight of them together made him want to throw up. He had to do something. No, he needed to do something.

He took a long breath, mentally preparing himself for what he was about to do. He finished connecting all the wires, and walked straight where Chan and Y/N were talking. The blonde guy was doing some sort of dance, that made her laugh. He truly couldn’t stand the sight of it, so he approached them with quicker steps. He was about to call out her name, when he stepped onto his shoelaces and felt himself falling down. He would have completely fallen onto the floor if it wasn’t due to a strong arm holding him.

“Dude, everything is okay?” Chan asked, still holding Wonwoo in his arms, who was completely red. He has made a complete fool of himself, and the worst part is that he couldn’t see a thing.

“Fuck, my glasses…” The tallest one whispered, cursing under his breath. The frame of his glasses were broken in half. Great, those had been expensive, and now he has to pay again for them to get repaired. He couldn’t even look for them, as Chan kept him in his embrace, and it’s not like he could actually see them.

“Wonu, are you okay?” Fuck, he also has humiliated himself in front of her.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine…”

“Let me fix your glasses”

“Huh? There is no need, Y/N, it’s… fine”

“Don’t be stupid, Wonu. I’ll fix it… Gimme a sec”

“She is really good with her hands, she will fix them” What did Chan just say?! Wonwoo felt his face turning completely red, he really hoped none of them noticed… Wait, how did Chan know that? No way. They were actually dating.

He didn’t notice when the shorter one stopped grabbing him, or when she left looking for adhesive tape. He was way too lost in thought for that. He couldn’t focus on anything else, not now that he saw clearly that Chan and Y/N were together. Why did it hurt so badly? It was just a stupid dare, he had no reason to feel that way.

“Are you fine?” Chan’s voice brought Wonwoo to reality. He hated that guy now.

“Yeah, I am. Thanks for catching me” He might hate him, but he wasn’t rude.

“It’s nothing…”

Silence. Great, what Wonwoo needed right now, a tense atmosphere. He wanted to leave and hide under his blanket. He could feel Chan’s eyes on him, but completely ignored it. He would blame it on his poor eyesight and the lack of his glasses if the other guy ever mentioned it.

After a couple minutes, that felt like hours, she returned with his glasses taped. She gave them to him, who looked at his glasses with a hint of sadness.

“It’s the best I could do…”

“Don’t worry Y/N, it’s not your fault… Thanks…” He said, shyly smiling at him. God, he couldn’t wait for this awful day to end.

A/N: i wanted to have this done for sunday but uni is absolutely killing me TT i rlly hope i can get to write next chapter soon cuz its one of my relax moments hehe… anyways, any thoughts on chan and y/n relationship and how it can affect wonwoo?? hehehe anyways hope yall like im gonna get some rest mwaks

Taglist: @adonisbtch @mydearhangel @wonvsmile @wonuilu @peachyaeger @minwonwoozi @syluslittlecrows @divigo @coupsgfsstuff @jennwonwoo

#seventeen #college au #seventeen fanfic #falling for a bet or dare trope #fluff #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo x reader #kpop #wonu #seventeen wonwoo #wonu x reader

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atlaskrr · 3 months ago

Text

Comics that resonate with me in an unexplainable way - a rec list

☆ amount represents how much is resonated with me (aka how obsessed i became or how deep i loved) which is a personal thing not a quality thing.

sorted by sections below ⬇️

Manga

Zeikin de katta hon☆☆☆ - delinquent wants to use library. OH NO! he needs to return a book he lost when he was child. welp. reimbursement time. he does (while embarrassed) and ends up working in the library in the process and growing as a person. messages relate to the books and library practices in the chapter.

pos: AUGHHHH. comforting, imformativs, beautiful messages, well-written characters that each carry a message, and makes you fall in love with libraries and books (you will appreciate librarians 10x more)

neg: some charas can feel exagerated and some jokes are repeated one too many times

Magmell shinkai suizokukan☆☆☆ - i wanna work in an aquarium! a well renowned first ever deep sea aquarium! and i am. just as a janitor. but its ok since i get to watch and learn about all these wonderful creatures. i hope people see how beautiful they are too. each chapter carries a message tied to the creature it covers.

pos: GOD DAMN the art is beautiful. informative on the deep sea, well written characters and their psychology, nice mystery build up along the slice of life, you will be enraptured by the "ugly" deep sea. will make you believe in yourself and your dreams and that you can always grow and improve

neg: some scenarios of the world dont make sense with how the creatures would usually behave, weird age gap side-story (did not happen and was handled responsibly but still)

Butai ni sake☆☆ - they said i sounded scary. what if everyone will misinterpret me again? im at a new school for hs. i got this. how can i learn to be more, less scary? wait what club is showcasing right now? the... threatre club? maybe thats the answer. chapters show the club preparing for plays!

pos: RELATABLE AF characters. the messages are strong throughout and all the showcase of what goes on in a theatre club is very accurate. it makes you fall in love with the art and if youre already a theatre kid like me, i think youll be impressed and find it relatable.

neg: besides the main 2 characters, side characters can feel underdeveloped. ESPECIALLY one of them. the ending is very open-ended on the romance that they kept on implying (though it mightve just been bait)

Yokai gakkou no sensei hajimemashita☆☆ - imagine the most pathetic man you can muster. now make him 100x more wimpy to the point hes hussled by kindergardners. thats the mc of yohaji abe haruaki! he became a shut-in after trying to teach at a school and getting scared away by delinquents. but wait! a family friend has let him work at a school. with its own island?! wow this is an amazing oppurtuni- ITS A SCHOOL FOR YOKAI?! starts out as comedy but plot and characters develop along the way

pos: AMAZING characters, well developed relationships, great development throughout the story overall, fun yokai trivia, and well incorparated comedy. also. GAY. like- well written abd casually. pretty art btw.

neg: humour can be repetitive and too questionable for some. lowk the mangakas kinks are slipping through into it 💀 the timeline of one year feels like its streching on for ATLEAST 2 with the amount of shit that happens. once again, lots of questionable things. like time travel age gap. or just age gap ship bait. or just the mc. he gets a pass tho.

Manwha

The makeup remover☆☆☆ - i am ugly. but im ok with that, i mean im just a photography student. but i guess i could try more... how does everybody just become beautiful? how do they learn? OMG HE FUCKED UP MY MAKEUP. wait whos this new random dude. and why is he asking me to be his model for a makeup competiton??? the story follows this duo in the makeup competition.

pos: AMAZING STORY. AMAZING MESSAGES. each character FEELS like a message. they're well written. it feels realistic. the makeup looks SO CREATIVE. the relationships between characters are developed well and the diverse cast of backgrounds allow for good subplots that make you CARE and think about the messages they carry as they resonate in your soul. it shows both the good and bad of makeup. realistic. truly.

neg: very vauge open ending on relationship front as they kept teasing multiple relationships and it just- no payoff. spme character backgrounds were not explored enough.

Sambong barbershop☆☆ - theres a virus spreading around to ugly people when they break. im scared ill be next. but then a cat steaps her watch, she follows it to a barbershop and- is that a humanoid cat?! smoking a cig?????? oh and a majestic dude who cut hair with gigantic scissors. blablabla she ends up working at a barbershop. sambong barbershop. it shows how one can grow as a person yet stay the same as the mc works at the barbershop.

pos: good message, complex charas (they can be assholely but theyre human), cool action scenes and fantasy elements, very realistic as, well youll see how the development goes if you read this comic.

neg: artstyle takes a while to grow on you and ending was- random. and ambig. also, because its very realistic it guves a more harsh vibe to the message rather than positivity (not a full downside tho). also the world-building is very unclear and vauge.

Surviving romance☆☆☆ - ive been isekaid into my favourite romance novel. ahh this is the life, ill get my happily ever after, who cares about those faceless extras. lalalala- ZOMBIE OUTBREAK??? I DIE?! wait. im. alive again. at the beginning of that day. WHATS GOING ON??? the story follows how she'll survive this nightmare by getting to know unknown extras she has never cared for along the way.

pos: AMAZING development throughout the story as always by lee yone. characters and relationships grow very well and the mystery us very well developed and hints are rlly good! as hidden yet visible as they need to be. the pacing was good and the artstyle is very charming. the visuals are also used very cleverly and creatively. you can even see hints in the first few scenes! also, friendship! and a good, hopeful message for anyone struggling.

neg: ending can feel very luck based. also very open-ended (personally part of the charm tho). also questionable age losgistics and some might not like the character attitude switch ups.

Peace restaurant☆ - the dimensions have all collapsed together, right in seoul. naturally, theres war over land. but one safe haven owned by a mysteriously strong and feared lady, is peace restaurant. the newly awakened demon king is ready to fly there and when he does- be gets beat up. and not by the warrior there- BUT BY THE LADY???? the story follows the growing mystery behind the mc and the "fight" agaisnt people who oppose her restaurant.

pos: love the mystery and found fam. fun exaggerated characters yet also clearly more depth hiding beneath that. love through cooking. comedy that grows plot my fav genre fr. also, very cool dishes and world. also good character and relationship development for one chara. also, HEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS!

neg: other characters could be more well developed and complex. change can feel too fast suddenly accepted by the mc. the current arc (chap 26ish i think?) is dragging FAR longer than it needs to. could benefit from more realistic characters (though its probably a writing choice for the tone of the story)

Webtoon

Cursed princess club☆☆ - gwendolyn is beautiful, just like the rest of her siblings, everyone in her life thinks so. though her life in inside the palace due to her overorotective father. but when she and her sisters are set to get engaged to the plaid princes and her fiance calls her UGLY. her world shatters as she realizes hes right. she runs into the forest as she cries and WHATS THAT. she passes out and wakes up in a mansion with princesses having a tea party outside. huh. so this isnt a haunted forest? WAIT WHATS WITH THE LONG NOSE? AND HOLLOW EYES?? AND- LOBSTER HANDS???? she has just stumbled upon the cursed princess club. the story shows a journey of self improvement and self love.

pos: WAAAA I ACTUALLY CRIED AT THE ENDING. very well written characters that develop over time, creative curses and good foreshadowing. the subversion of tropes is PEAK. it has good callbacks, parallels, analogies, etc.

neg: i feel like many characters can be explored more, worldbuilding unclear, and cam often times focys on romance more than id like. humour is very often misplaced such as in serious scenes when they should be before or after the peak of tension instead of well- at the peak. some relationships and feelings feel- random? and also bad people are way too easily forgiven. i feel like there needs to be a line to the positive messaging on that front.

Maho shonen☆ - ahh magical girls. teenage girls with superpowers. ah! 2 guide are descending and- TWO FULLY GROWN MEN?! and the gaurdians are, well.... they're certainly not cutesy, on the inside at least. and the grown men? they're just plain horrid at their job. the only thing they gain from all this, is trauma! not like they're already stocked up on it. oh, and each other of course! the story shows how the two will get through this whole ordeal as well as their daily life.

pos: the story WILL grow on you. cool art, good trope subversions esp in the price of being a magical girl. explores the psychology of it all and has well written characters that deal with realistic issues. also very nice duo dynamic.

neg: the humour may not suit everyone as it can be a bit more mature. it does take a few eps to get good and grow on you.

Our walk home☆ - two academic rivals.... wait, why aren't they acting like rivals at all? they're even getting along? and finding things in common?! they're letting the masks slip. but their rivaling schools won't be happy to hear about this from their top students. afterall, no one from the two schools are allowed to be friends. the story shows how these two mask-wearing academic achievers get through life together. and maybe, just maybe, fall in love.

pos: VERY good exploration of identity and self-worth and VERY relatable. the characters are very well written and have simple yet recognizable designs, a cute dynamic between the mcs.

neg: honestly, i don't know. it just didn't attach to my soul. probably secondary character relationships could be further expanded on.

The bathroom ghost☆☆ - ghost are scary. but this ghost, is just REALLY BAD AT HER JOB! what's a ghost to do when she can't scare? and is stuck in a mall bathroom of all places? worse yet, the managers keep badgering her about it! this follows her hijinks.

pos: the COOLEST artstyle I've seen in a comic with a very fitting and unique feel. cool character design, simple, yet entertaining, comedy, great use of body language, hidden plot developing. mc is very endearing and so are the rest of the characters. it's just so feel-good and heartwarming.

neg: takes a few episodes to move on from episodic if you dislike that. honestly, i just need more. that's my only complaint. GIVE ME MORE VOLPEE

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rontra · 8 months ago

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My hand never seems to actually translate the ideas that are spinning up in my brain. how do you get it all out? any advice? just draw more? do i need to use more references? your art is just so beatiful you are one of my top inspos.

ah first of all thank you very much! i'm honored! 😳

(long post incoming lol)

to answer the question though, i don't think i sufficiently translate what's in my mind and i frequently let myself down! but it's important not to let that Stop you. i think overall it's sort of multifaceted and different for everyone--theres no single answer i can give you that will guaranteed work for you--but for me personally i think it mainly comes down to Derangement, DISCRETION!!, Discipline, & Diet

before i say anything more though it's important also to remember that making visual art (in our case drawings/comics) is training like 2 or 3 separate skills (depending on how you divide them). the HAND represents your current drawing ability & technique; what your drawing hand is physically able to produce when you set pen to paper. the BRAIN is the creative engine that cooks up your ideas and thinks of ways to assemble them. and the EYE represents your ability to recognize what art looks like and how it "should" look. when your brain is thinking of ideas and your hand can't capture them, that is not because you're "bad" at it: it means your eye skill is currently outpacing your hand skill. your ability to discern art, to see things like proportions and anatomy and composition and whatever else is going on, is currently stronger than your ability to draw them yourself. this is not a flaw. this is not a flaw. this is not a flaw!!!! but it does mean your hands' ability to capture what your brain has imagined will let your eyes down until your hands catch up. once they do--by studying, practicing your technique, using references, and gaining confidence--your eye skill will then begin to outpace it again. this cycle, the dance between the two skills, is why you might sometimes feel yourself suddenly "getting good" at art, then just as suddenly plateauing or "getting worse"; you are training different parts of what makes art happen. there is nothing wrong with this. you are improving even when it doesnt feel like it--even when it feels like THE LITERAL OPPOSITE is happening. because you're improving different skills!

(and of course as your eye skill develops you will look back at previous stages of development and go "HOW COULD I NOT SEE HOW BAD THIS LOOKS!"--and yeah. that's the thing; you probably, rather literally, couldn't see it! you only think it looks bad now because you've improved your "eye" skill. you should try to be proud of that feeling, even though it also likely sucks and is embarrassing to you at the same time. there's posts, even recent ones, that i go "i cant believe i thought that looked OK enough to post PUBLICLY" and it is embarrassing for me! but all it means is that i'm better at what i do now...so it doesn't get me down too badly. you gotta shrug that stuff off.)

with that out of the way, my four evil councilmen are as follows:

DERANGEMENT: find something you are not normal about. this can be anything (whether it's a topic that interests you, The Character, a medium, a damn color palette...anything!), as long as it captures your mind and motivates you to create. your brain should be spinning up ideas like crazy and your only choice is to draw them. because once you have Derangement the only thing that feels worse than Making Something Subpar is sitting around Not Making Anything At All. you should be interested in what you draw. you should ideally love it, even if you don't love your own art yet. once you know what motivates you, let that simmer until you have no choice but to draw even if you're scared it'll turn out bad. and hey--there will probably (unless you become some kind of Art God) always be parts you think should've turned out better in some way, however:

DISCRETION!!: realistically nobody NEEDS to know what parts of a piece you're unhappy with. it's valuable to have friends/art partners/mentors/whatever that you can comfortably check in with and go "i dont like [part], what do you think" and get feedback, but that's for YOU. for the audience at large, maybe people will notice, maybe they won't, but as an artist you are constantly growing and you will very likely be constantly looking back at past pieces (even just days or hours old sometimes) and going "what the hell was i thinking? how did i not see [error/s], or why didn't i go for [different idea/finish/color palette/etc]?". getting hung up on this will probably either light a fire under you or demotivate you completely depending on your particular brain soup. for me it can go either way depending on where i'm at in my current hand/eye development phase. but i try not to fixate on it. it's enough to observe it and take notes for next time. every drawing is part of your growth and you have to make wonky art in order to occasionally make something that satisfies your eyes. in the meantime, don't beat yourself up or put yourself down. you are gaining experience and technical know-how, and spotting things you'd like to work on for next time; especially if you're sharing this work and other people are telling you they like what you made, there's no need to undercut this by dwelling on the rough parts so much that you can't enjoy it. the important thing is that you made it.

DISCIPLINE: you made it, it's done, now make something new. do it again from the top! you're right: Drawing A Lot is absolutely the key to Drawing Better. it is also usually an evil curse that reveals How Bad You Drew 3 Months Ago. but you have no choice, if you want to hone your skills and improve the Brain Image -> Art Image translation. you have to do it even when it sucks. do it bored, do it scared, but you have to do it or you'll never get anywhere. when improving yourself, you have to draw a lot to see change, and this is the part that sucks, right? feeling like you're not really getting anywhere or like you'll never capture what's in your mind. you can do studies where you collect references and focus in on ironing out something that's bothering you (such as, like, specific objects, perspectives, clothing details, anatomy pieces, light and shadow, etc etc); this can help crack the malaise for sure... learning how to use references is good, as well as whatever tools are available to you (in your medium/software). How To Do This is sort of a different post, but it does help (and sometimes annoyingly so; there's been rare but very annoying moments in my career where i will be simply looking at a picture and idly make an observation that cracks a style/anatomy problem i've had for Years and im always like COME ON!!! hahaha--but yes looking at references and studying them "like an artist" definitely helps, even when it's not as miraculous as that). overall work smarter and nail down the stuff you're unsure about, then incorporate what you've learned into your art style until it looks a way you like. you will likely have to just grind it out sometimes, and often this grind will not feel particularly fun. but you can Dog Medication Salami Pocket yourself into it if you're drawing something you're sufficiently Deranged about. <- this is what diesel is always doing with those women (LOL)

also, Output. you do have to Be Making Stuff in order to finish stuff. for example for comic projects like adastra or failteacher au, if i can draw ~1 page a day, the update will be complete in no time. but i have to draw that 1 page every day to make it happen, even if i feel off or lack confidence about what i'm making. of course i'm not saying you shouldn't take breaks; you NEED to take breaks, set your goals to your own level, and listen to yourself (and don't get some kind of wrist problem like me please). but the point im trying to make is that if you can make yourself sit down and do it even though you're scared it'll turn out bad, (or, hell, even if this part of your project is Simply Boring), then you can do it anytime. this is important too. but you will probably still sometimes feel stuck if you try to work and grind all the time.

DIET: regularly, but especially when you're stuck in a rut, step away from your craft and enrich your diet. you have to play just as much as you have to work. for example, i am always ALWAYS reading comics. at any given time i probably have 1-4 (sometimes more) tabs open of different comics i am simultaneously reading!!!! i read webcomics, webtoons, manga, DC--any demographic or genre, i take random recs from people and just go read them. whatever medium you're in, you have to take in what other people are doing with it, you have to let them teach and inspire you. you have to branch out and look at genres and styles you usually don't. unwind and look at comics, at illustrations, at design, at animation, at video games. enjoy them as an audience, but look at them like an artist too. when you like something, pause and examine (as both an artist and audience) why you like it. (vice versa: if you don't like something, you can try to figure out why that is!) let other people's ideas and habits flow over you. you have to relax and enrich your mind, to refresh your creativity and motivation. this is crucial. when you come back, you'll feel refreshed and ready to go, and your big brain cauldron of tools + ideas + techniques will be all shiny and bubbling. it's just as important to experience art as it is to make it. i really can't stress that enough!!!!

i talk about comics specifically here because right now obviously i am making a lot of comics (adastra, failteachers). i often feel like i get stuck in boring page layouts and can't think of how to panel something. and honestly sometimes a basic layout that just Gets Through The Scene is simply sufficient (after all, not everything has to be a Groundbreaking New Masterpiece; we would all get fatigued by that!)--or otherwise a "boring layout" is just what i have to put down in order to put down anything at all. but in both cases, reading comics and taking in what people are doing with their layouts makes me feel refreshed and i can return to my own work all rested and bright-eyed. everything we read and watch and take in is added to our "mental library" for the brain to reference when it's time to create something. it is just as enriching and important to experience someone else's art and perspective, and to enjoy a diverse range of impressions. you are always learning and observing, so try to pay attention--it's feeding your brain... :j

(and now, hopefully, your enriched Diet has added fertilizer for your Derangement, and the entire council can take their turn again from the top of the order. HDFHBJFS)

hmm...

well, overall, like i said at the top, there's no One Solution or really Single Piece Of Advice i can offer you. but i hope maybe you got something out of it anyway. everyone's a bit different and everyone's ideal workflow and journey is different too. but don't give up, keep at it, and...GOOD LUCK!!! 🫡🫡🫡

& always remember: in the end, making something YOU like, that looks good to YOU and fulfills YOUR goals, is more important than making something "perfect" (if such a thing even exists). as long as YOU'RE enjoying making your art (yes, even when making the art is hell and sucks!), that's all that matters. 🤝

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