#and man i cant even think of an image or drawing that that would be attached to but i wish i could cause i like it too Tumblr posts

[mbat]

this was an idea i had last year that i found in my files and decided to revive. woe, angst be upon ye

[woolydemon]

I am cursed with the burden of liking so many things but not having energy to make art for all the things I like 😭

[jadenvargen]

If I want to study someone's art or style, how do I do that? Like where do you even start when looking at an illustration that they made 😭thank you!!!

Here’s stuff i think about. i don’t do that many style studies, so idunno how helpful it is! pls sound in tha comments if anyone has tips:) 

Pinpoint what stuff you like, and focus on that. Focus on technique rather than exact replication, for example ( just first thing comes to mind) if you like rostov’s disco elysium cover art and want to study it, don’t just repaint the image, find what’s key in the style. looseness, maybe? then, instead of copying the image with your technique, try to apply the same looseness. (feat. shitty 5 min sketch plz dont judge example of how i normally approax paintings, versus a study. ALSO not to say u CANT do this it's just how i would study, myself. )

That being said, don’t force yourself to make art decisions that feel unnatural to you. a lot of the time artists make decisions based on their weaknesses as well as strengths. I do very shaky, hatchy lineart because my hands are very shaky. I focus on painting what I* feel is important and fun. 

Instead of copying a style from a picture, look at a variety of pictures and find technique. For example a lot of people redrawing a screenshot in “sailor moon style” or “ghibli style” will draw… let’s say, an old man, looking like a usagi because that’s the screenshot they looked at, instead of watching what stylistic choices for example takeuchi made when stylizing an old man. So the “studies” end up homogenous. I personally find it unproductive to replicate a painting for purposes of study, but like focusing on individual elements. say you like egon schiele, replicating whole paintings at a time IMO isn't gonna do much, but maybe you can set out on a series where you sketch copy his hands or feet from different paintings, and then try stylizing your own hands the same way? Or maybe your fave artist draws moonlight like a blue stream, or a red one? Try applying only that light to your paintings.

You could also color pick or look at the colors they make and paint whatever you want with those same colors, to understand how they work together and what can be done with them.

Also, if you can, look at their influences! Everyone learns art by seeing others art. Chances are they saw art they liked and picked from there what elements they enjoyed. Looking at the inspiration can help make some of the techniques more obvious.

Basically focus less on copying(not that copying is bad- but not always helpful for studying), and more on what you like. If you find what you like, you can work from there and try to think about your own art from the same perspective.

IDK if this helps as i said, feel free to add onto^_^

[epiicaricacy-arts]

without the sour the sweet wouldn’t taste

why are you as a man eating another man’s ear after you failed to make him eat his ex girlfriend. 🤨🏳️‍🌈⁉️

im allowed a bit of toxic yaoi. as a treat

process discussion utc ⬇️

for those familiar with my work you’ll know that i like trying a lot of new styles and experimenting in order to achieve a certain vibe. usually those are heavy painterly styles such as the sunday art inspired by Yuming Li, which is what i’m familiar and comfortable with, both traditionally and digitally

what im NOT familiar with is watercolour. i’ve never had a good time with it 🥲 i just cant seem to wrap my head around the process since its requires me to work backwards (light to dark vs dark to light)

for this piece i just couldn’t imagine myself rendering it in my usual style. i needed to do something new so that i’d stay invested enough in the piece considering that it has two people, meaning double the work. for some reason i thought it’d be fun to do double the work with a style i am completely uncomfortable with but oh well!! i managed to do it 🤷‍♀️ i was specifically looking at the works of Ko Byung Jun, an artist i’ve seen all over my pinterest feed

while i didn’t end up really following the style super closely i still learned quite a lot just by looking at it while i drew. i tried my best to stick to watercolour brushes and an ink pen but as i was nearing the end i needed to make some alterations that i wasn’t bothered to try fixing with the watercolour brushes so i just went over it with my digital ones 🫡 i did my best that’s what matters!!!

i had to repaint rody a few times cause i just couldn’t get it right and the colours never ended up matching vincent. i painted them separately and i think i got possessed while painting vincent cause it happened in like. 40 minutes. and i couldn’t get it to happen again 😔 it didn’t really matter cause i ended up going ham with the curves tool as always but you know 🤷‍♀️

here’s the image without all the effects:

i find lately it’s been more and more common for me to be sketching several iterations of a concept for days, even weeks before i land on something i like. i have an entire separate canvas that i’ve spent 5 hours just doing thumbnails trying to figure out how i wanted to pose these two in a way that would showcase the characteristics that mattered in the story of this piece.

that’s my process for coming up with drawings: i find inspiration somewhere, i figure out the key concepts/characteristics/symbols etc i want highlighted, and i work around those. sometimes i have a composition in mind or just a general vibe i want to portray. for this one i wanted to make sure the towel, rody’s injured finger and vincent’s face could all be clearly seen, while also portraying the fight scene and the vibe i get from the reference song. almost all of my work revolves around a specific lyric from the song which drives the story of the piece. here i interpreted the line “without the sour the sweet wouldn’t taste” as a connection to all the little actions vince takes with rody that can be seen as “sweet.” drying rody’s hair, bandaging rody’s cut. i then asked myself how i could take those actions and make them “sour” or show them in a different light, in which vince is biting the finger he bandaged and pulling rody closer, preventing his escape with the towel he used to dry his hair. what im trying to communicate in this illustration is the idea of “if it weren’t for how i’m treating you now, you wouldn’t understand how kind i was to you then” in an attempt to illustrate the complexities of the way vincent acts towards rody.

i’m truly in love with the story telling of this game. it’s hard to really say anything about how the characters acted during the story because it’s so complex in how it’s done. it’s very hard to summarize their relationship because there’s so much about it i can’t explain without just quoting the game directly. i think it’s such a beautiful portrayal of obsession and just being fucking weird about someone. i wanted to ensure the elements i mentioned in the above paragraph because i didn’t want to be portraying vincent as solely a villain and rody as a victim. i wanted the storytelling of this one illustration to live up to my impression of this beautiful game and i hope i did it justice.

thank you for reading this if you’ve made it this far. i love rambling on all my art posts cause i think it’s so valuable for artists to expand on their work outside of the result alone. i hope what im saying is at most helpful to someone and at the very least a good read. i’m probably gonna take a bit of an art break after this since it took a lot out of me, plus im on the last days of my trip. thank you again for reading!

here’s my dog

[fandomxo00]

Ivy - Chapter two - X24 - James Howlett -fanfiction

X-24 escaped from Transigen during the final fight and you a cottagecore girly find him in the woods

warnings: matthew gray gubler! is kinda of a dick im sorry? not true to real actor! i love him sm, sexual tension, dysfunctional marriage, cheating, very lite smut (mggxivy), tension, protective james! um claws? but thats kinda given with a wolvie fic, james cant talk v well and mating mentions....

word count: 4.1k

When you got back to your house, you led James to the bathroom before going into your room to gather some clothes from your husband's closet. Your husband, Matthew, was rarely ever home and he sometimes took Madeline with him so you were left alone. Though you didn’t mind the solitude, you wished that he was around more often. The two of you had slowly drifted apart as time went on nevertheless, you loved him and he meant alot to you. You aren’t sure if you were ever in love with him, he promised you a home, safety, love and a family; but you knew after you had Madeline that something was wrong.You did your best to push those feelings away and focus on the time you did have with your husband. Then he finally got his dream job as a private investigator and you couldn’t hold him back. You just wished that you were included in his dreams, that he could be just as passionate about his relationship as he was with his career and daughter. He’d give you a quick fleeting hug when he got home from work, though the kisses and ‘I love you’s’ were becoming scarce. 

When he crawled into bed at night, he’d kiss at your neck, his hands slowly sliding around your waist. Matthew would ask if he could have you, wanting to connect with him in whatever way you could, you’d give in each time. Though it was starting to feel transactional, his hands were always warm, large as they slipped up your nightie and most times you didn’t wear panties to bed, so he’d prop your leg up on him before sliding into you. He couldn’t see the vacant gaze on your face, you felt used by him and when you felt him pulse inside you, you then pretended to finish with him. Each time you went in thinking it would be different, that maybe he’d want to see your face, or touch you, but he’d always do the bare minimum, he used to care, though over the last fifteen years that spark had faded and you didn’t think it would ever come back. You’ve tried to talk to him about it, but he acted like nothing was happening, that it was all  in your head. That you loved each other, that the feeling you’ve always been searching for was here with him. You tried to believe him, accepting his lies, his stories, with his hands clasped in yours. Then time would pass on, actions wouldn’t match words and eventually you’d stopped trying. Everyday you hoped your husband would come back, but instead you’re left with broken promises and a shell of the man you married. 

With a shake of your head you snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the shower turn off, bringing yourself back into the moment as you started towards the bathroom. You knocked softly on the wooden door, from the other side it was pulled open slowly. The image in front of you made you draw in a breath, the room was steamy from the hot shower he’d taken, which only made the scene before you all the more captivating. You had known that he was a…built gentleman but you didn’t know that he looked like that. James had strong biceps, a couple veins bulging out from his tanned skin. His stomach looked naturally flat but then you watched him lightly suck in and his 6-pack abs looked far more chiselled and defined. Your eyes strayed down towards his towel that rested lowly on his hips, glancing over the vein that ran over his toned Adonis’ belt. Guilt washed over you at the feeling of arousal that shot down to your core, completely forgetting why you were even here in the first place. Then you glanced down at the clothes in your hands as you looked up into his eyes. It was really insane how attractive this man is. 

You moved into the bathroom, kneeling down under the sink to grab an extra toothbrush and hairbrush. “You can…umm, change and then I could help you with your hair if you’d like?” You offered, standing up straight as your hand reached out to a knot in his unruly dark brown hair. James flinched at the contact, before his eyes met yours and the tension in his shoulders released. “Is this okay?” 

“Y-yeah.” James croaked, his lips moving slowly around the words, then you noticed his eyes trailing down your body before flitting back up.

You scampered out of the small room, suddenly feeling claustrophobic, shutting the door before leaning against the nearest wall. You brought your hand up to your chest, as you heaved for air, your nerves getting the better of you and leaving you breathless. You needed to focus on him, not yourself, this wasn’t about how you felt, it was about what he needed. James needed help right now, and on the way home you had offered to take him to a professional, though he refused. Thus you were going to do everything in your power to help him, you just hoped you wouldn't make things worse, for either of you.

When James was done changing you helped him with his hair, trimming it before turning your focus on his beard. You tried not to think of how his freshly shaven face felt against your hand. Subconsciously reaching out to his cheek, he watched you intently, his eyes reminded you of the gorgeous, lush flora that surrounds your home. James was so quiet, but he seemed to have so much going on behind those eyes, stories to tell, and opinions to share. Only you had a feeling that he hadn’t decided to not share with you, but rather he wasn’t able to. Whatever he had gone through, it was something you don’t think you can even begin to comprehend.

Though you were familiar with the feeling of pain, something that radiated off this man like a natural pheromone. Your hand moved away from his face once you realised you were staring into his eyes, a light flush coming over your cheeks as you thought how easily James seemed to captivate you. Not from his looks alone, though he hadn’t said much, he had trusted you when you were sure that was the last thing instincts told him to do. X’s eyes hadn’t left your own since you began trimming his beard. He was memorising every last detail of your iris’s, how each colour faded into the next. When your hands left his face, he allowed his eyes to wander the curves of your cheekbones, the light dusting of freckles on your cheeks, the couple of acne scars on your forehead, the curvature of your cupid's bow that led to your supple lips, committing  each detail to memory. 

You’d arranged for James to sleep in yours and Matthew’s shared room while you’d spend the night in Madeline’s room. As he laid in your bed, he noticed a small bottle of body lotion on the bedside table. Curiosity got the better of him, he opened the cap and squeezed some onto his hands and rubbed it in, taking a deep inhale of the scent; it smelled of you. Thoughts of you circled his mind, until he finally fell asleep surrounded by your scent; a sweet, creamy, and rich vanilla. Little did he know that you were next door, wide awake overthinking the events of the day. What if I’ve invited a madman into my home? What if he hurts my family? Why does he look at me the way he does?....Why do I look at HIM the way I do? What if I can’t help him?

Over the following weeks, you and X developed a bit of a bond. James adjusted to life quite well, you helped cook for him and he was starting to sleep through most nights, nightmares no longer disturbing his rest. One morning, you went out into the garden to feed your cat, Jupiter. James came out when he couldn't find you inside, he felt something rub up against him and he flinched, unsheathing his claws, his eyebrows furrowed as he stepped back to see a small black cat, who swiped at him. “No!! That’s Jupiter!! Don't hurt her!” You rushed forward, hands outstretched, before reaching out to grab her. James looked up to you noticing your look of horror and immediately retracted his claws. You had more regard for this cat's life than your own, his eyes softened, filled with sorrow and regret. 

“I-I.” He swallowed, he hadn’t really felt this emotion before, anxiety. When he was under control of Dr. Rice, he was far too numb to know how he was feeling, but this had changed over the past few months and for some reason he knew he didn’t want you to be fearful of him. “I-I’m s-,” You reached out towards him, your hands landing on his shoulders comfortingly. 

“Watch my mouth. It’s ‘I’m sorry’, right?” You murmured, pointing to your mouth as you spoke, James nodded his head as his green eyes settled on your lips. You slowly enunciated the words, “I’m sorry.” 

James cleared his throat, the sound low and heavy, his eyes flitting back up to yours with an indecipherable expression on his face as he slowly said, “I’m….” He trailed off as he watched you encouragingly mouth the words once again for him. “Sorry.”James whispered, his voice rough and his tone unsure. “I’m sorry, Iii..-vy.” 

“It’s okay.” You promised, slowly nodding, as you moved towards him with the cat still in your arms, the curious feline watching the whole interaction, one of your hands scratching at his ears as you held him on your hip. “Jupiter is a really sweet cat, but he’s also rough, I mean he lives out here.” Gesturing around you before smiling softly. “You can pet him, if you’d like.” You offer, nodding over to him as James slowly reaches his hand out to rub at his chest. Jupiter snuggled deeper into your arms as he started to purr, your lips coming down to peck his forehead.

Glancing up at James you noticed the softness in his features as he focused on the feline before he felt your stare. You couldn’t help but admire him, you wanted to run your fingers along the wrinkles on his face, feel his beard underneath your palm. Your heart flooded with guilt as James’ green eyes sparkled in the sunlight. Then his gaze flickered down to your mouth, breathing out shakily before darting back to your eyes. You never knew what to do or say in these moments, always relying on your partner to fill in the gaps. 

That’s when you heard the crunch of tires on gravel, whipping your head to the side to see your husband’s dark blue jeep rolling into the driveway. You let go of Jupiter, “My daughter, and uhm, my husband. Madeline and Matthew.” You explained, nodding towards the car before leading him towards your family. You had a phone call with Madeline at least every Friday, sometimes more, recently it’s a phone call every night and you explained the situation. Matthew seemed like it was no big deal on the phone but you were sure he was just being polite. When he got home he’d start acting like a petulant toddler. It seemed like every night he got home from one of these trips, you started caring less and less, your smile dimming as you came face to face with him. 

When Matthew stepped out of the car he seemed more distant than usual, barely acknowledging your presence as he grabbed his bags and went inside. Meanwhile, Maddie jumped out of the car with a toothy grin on her face, her brown curls cascading down her back as her boots hit the gravel. “Mom!” She exulted, before coming hurtling towards you, wrapping her arms around your waist as you squeezed her around the shoulders before kissing her forehead. “Is this him?”  Maddie whispered, as you hummed. 

You went in after Matthew, James and Madeline following closely behind, going into your room only to see Matthew’s suitcase on the bed, already open as he rummaged through it. You moved over to him, your hands going to his waist and shoulder, he rolled his shoulders back, shrugging you off. You felt a weight on your chest

“How was your trip?”

“It was fine. I think Maddie should stay back for awhile, she isn’t handling homeschool well.” 

“I told you.” You sighed, your arms crossing over your chest and your shoulders rising. 

“You don’t have to say that.” Matthew snapped. 

“I’m not trying to be mean.”

“You always say that, I think it’s just an excuse.” 

“Can you not pick a fight the minute you walk through the door, I missed you.”

“Yeah.” Matthew cleared his throat, as he turned away from you.

“What did I do?”

“Nothing, I tell you this every time.”

“Then why do you get angrier every time I ask?”

“Because you piss me off, Ivy!” Matthew yelled, as you moved back before he closed the distance, his hand grasping at your jaw and his lips landing on yours. You turned your cheek away from him, you can’t explain why, but kissing him felt so foreign. It felt wrong to kiss your own husband. A look of betrayal came over Matthew’s face as he glared over at you, “Are you sleeping with James?”

“No.”

“Then why didn’t you take him to a church or the nearest hospital?” Matthew questioned.

“He’s a mutant, God knows what they’d do to him.” 

Huffing exasperatedly, Matthew shook his head, “You and your charity cases.” 

“...Maybe I didn’t miss you.” You muttered, before moving towards the door.

“I can’t believe you left Mad’s alone with him.” 

“Shut up.” You gruffed, rolling your eyes, and slammed the door shut. You trudged towards the kitchen, to see Madeline getting out the ingredients for dinner as James tried to help her. He was gentle and patient with her, reaching for the ingredients on the higher shelves.

“Mom, do you remember the recipe for Pho?” 

“Um, it should be…” You trailed, walking past James, his eyes following you as you made your way over to the cupboard, and grabbed your grandmother’s recipe book. Turning around and handing it to Madeline as she flicked through the pages until she found the right one.  

Madeline started sounding out the words to help James read them, sometimes she would read a sentence and he would repeat it back to her while doing the instruction. You watched on proudly as your daughter naturally taught, you’d always thought that she would grow up to be a teacher. You also thought that she’d be a great big sister, though with the way your marriage was going you don’t think you’ll have any more children. 

The fear of a divorce had creeped up on you over the last few weeks, had you told yourself that this is where your relationship would end up a few years ago, you’d have laughed. You never wanted to wind up like your parents, but it was like the two of you were magnets of the same pole; he repulsed you. 

James has nothing to do with this. He needs your help, not your advances. He wasn’t a deciding factor in your relationship, it seemed impossible to fix something that was already so broken, especially when Matthew wasn’t making any effort. He was always glued to his phone, when you’d ask about who it was, he’d mutter something about it being an important work call and step outside. You could blame your anger on the cigarettes you could smell on his clothing, but you knew that you didn’t trust him. You hated when he smoked, it felt like the more you grew to hate his habit, the more he did it.

It felt like you didn’t even know your husband anymore, so you wondered who he was getting close to if it wasn’t you. Not deliberately, but by fate you wouldn’t be surprised if Matthew was seeing someone else. You’d always convinced yourself that he would never do that to you, that he’d  changed, but he did to his ex wife…with you. You were the other woman. Never admitting to anyone the shame and guilt that settled over you when you’d repeated your mother’s mistakes. She tore apart your family for a man, and you tore apart someone else’s marriage because you didn’t want to be alone, because you were selfish. It still felt wrong and you thought about his ex-wife to this day, wondering how she was, and if she still hated you. You bet she rarely thought about you and the reality of the situation was that Matthew told you everything you wanted to hear and never delivered what he promised. Though of course Matthew couldn’t admit that, lying through his teeth, saying he gave you everything you could’ve ever wanted. You were sure that this wasn’t it, that love wasn’t supposed to feel this hollow and taxing. Perhaps you were delusional, maybe you did have everything, but when James wandered into your life you somehow felt somehow more whole than you had done in a long time.

You showed James how to chop the vegetables as Madeline got the sauces and oils together, before putting oil into a large pot, the kitchen soon filled with the fragrant smell of minced garlic, ginger and coconut milk. Before adding the thinly sliced chicken that James had tried to cut, your hand came to his back and his shoulders relaxed as he tentatively brought the knife down to the chicken breast. Then you reached down to grab a pot, handing it to James. “Can you fill this with water, please?”

“Yeah.” He rasped, as you smiled over at him. You came beside him at the sink as the pot fell into the sink because he hadn’t been holding it with two hands. Your hand moves over his squeezed the handle tighter.

“Need two hands.”

James looked down into your eyes as he nodded his head, his other hand coming out to hold the handle with two hands. You lead him over to the stove, turning on the flame before setting the pot down. “Okay so now we wait until it’s boiled, it’ll start bubbling.” 

Madeline ran off for a little bit so James took over some more of the work, wound up overcooking the noodles. “It’s alright.” You promised, shrugging your shoulders. “It happens, jus’ put a little more seasoning on it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t teach you that word so you’d say it all the time.” You joked, nudging your shoulder into his, you paused as the sides of his crinkle. James leans into your side as you look up into his green eyes before they trailed to your lips. You let out an airy breath, He was just trying to see you say the words that’s all… right? 

“Did you drink my-.” Matthew started, walking into the kitchen, a glare fixing his face as you leaned away from James. 

“No, I never drink your liquor, you know that.” You replied, rolling your eyes, as Matthew scoffed at you. He knew that you only smoked if you partook in any substances it was going to be marijuana. 

“Don’t have to be a bitch about it.” Matthew grumbled, leaning over to reach into the cabinet, before his phone started going off. You glared down at the dish as you finished preparing it, your hand shaking as you felt someones stare on you. Turning to see James, a furrow in his brow as his chest started to heave lightly . As Matthew walked out of the room, you moved forward resting your hand on his chest. 

“Just ignore him.” You breathed out, looking up into his eyes. 

“I-I.” James started, gritting his teeth. “I can’t.” 

“Can you try?” You questioned, as his shoulders relaxed and your eyes moved away from him, realising how close you were standing to him. 

“For y-you.” He nodded. 

“Thank you.” You murmured, offering him a soft smile which he returned, something shining behind his eyes. He nodded his head as you turned to the stove, before pointing to the blue bowls on the counter beside James. “You can put those in front of the chairs.” You directed, pointing to the table. You were taken aback as he walked over to the dishes before glancing over at you over his shoulder with an almost smirk on his mouth, his hazel green eyes twinkling. 

Was he flirting with you or were you delusional? It was almost in James’ nature to attract a mate, you’ve shown him trust in the last couple weeks and he was grateful for you. He was very attracted to you, everything from the smell of your shampoo to the curve of your hips enticed him. He also wanted to protect you, especially from your husband, something she explained when she met him. James felt a certain ‘edge’ coming off of Matthew, as if he was desperately trying to hide something. He had listened to you ramble on for hours and hours about your problems, confining in him because he couldn’t say much. You felt awkward at times when he wouldn’t fill in the silence, though he did his best to pitch in when he could. You’d been slowly teaching him new words, he usually could fill in the meaning with context. 

At the dinner, everyone was rather silent aside from Maddie as she spoke about her adventures. You knew she had enjoyed the time with father. Regardless, of her being home sick, you didn’t doubt that Matthew would put her first. Though he didn’t tonight as he sat on his phone, shovelling food into his mouth with his other hand. You tried to glare over at him, but you were so angry you couldn’t help but bring your gaze to him. Dinner seemed to drag on forever until Matthew made an excuse to excuse himself from the table. You didn’t know if and when he would be back but you doubted it would be soon. James went out for a run, as you and Madeline went over her homework and caught up more on her life. She showed you her different paintings, as you sat on the porch swing. 

“James, come look!” Madeline waved over at him as he stood at the edge of the stairs. He was in a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and shorts that used to belong to Matthew. James smiled over at her, before coming up the steps.

“What-what is it?” James tried. 

“My paintings.” She murmured, as he came over to lean over her shoulder. His eyes lit up as he looked at all the different colours swirled together to create beautiful pictures. James finally knew what you meant by painting and he was intrigued. 

“I-I like this one.” James husked, as your daughter beamed with a proud smile, your hand came to rub at her back. 

“Okay, you should get to bed now, baby.” You urged, as she sighed, as she leant into your arm. “Dad’s taking you to school tomorrow.”

“I want to hang out with James.”

“Gotta-.” James cleared his throat. “Go to s-school.” 

“He’s right.” You smiled over at him, as he looked back with a knowing look in his hazel eyes. Madeline bid her farewell before going back inside, James leant against one of the beams on the porch. The two of you didn’t have to say anything to communicate, his arms going over his chest as James’ eyes scanned your face. 

“Thank you, I-Ivy.” James croaked, his voice getting more familiar and comforting the more he spoke. 

“What for?” You laughed, not expecting an answer. 

“For taking care of me when-when I didn’t have anything, no one cared. I don’t know why you do, but thank you.” You stood up from your spot and moved towards James.

“I didn’t know you could talk.” You replied, stepping towards him.

“N-not great at it.” James answered, as he gazed down at you, dipping his chin as his eyes a shade of light mossy brown that sparkled in the moonlight. 

“Can I hug you?”

“Yeah.” He breathed, as you stepped forward wrapping your arms around his waist. James’ arms slung around your shoulders as he pulled you in and you tucked your head into his chest for just a moment. You pretended like none of this was happening, that it was as simple as James just holding you. But it wasn’t something he thought he deserved, he was an animal for a long time. 

How could he go from something so inhuman to hugging a pretty girl on the porch of her humble home? 

tags: @chronicallybubbly @delicateholland @bubblegumholland @mega-kittyglitter-1 @dis-plus-fanfic-reblog-writes @onlybunss @squishyfruitloop @jessjessmarvelandhp @ohtobemare

note: ahhhhh i love this story sm tbh, there is gonna be pretty slow updates with this one but i hope to stretch it out for awhile! thank you so so much to @chronicallybubbly for helping me edit this!

[flower-seeks-the-moon]

Summary:

The truth that no one will ever, ever unearth from his tightly clenched fingers - the beating heart that's never been conquered, even if the rest of him is to be shared - is that Baxter Alexander Ward fucking loathes his wings.

Length: 5059 words

Fandom: Our Life: Beginnings & Always

Characters: Baxter Ward, Main Character

Relationships: Baxter Ward/Main Character

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Alternate Universe - Wings

Written for @ficwip5k 2024.

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

Baxter's wingcare routine takes up a chunk of his day; from the outside looking in, however, it doesn't seem that way.

He tells himself that the unveiled looks of awe and desire are worth it, that the pride on Adrian and Amelia Ward's faces when their friends offer doting words of praise are a justification for the long and tedious routine of carefully preening, brushing, and oiling each feather upon the six dusty grey wings that bloom from his back. The smile he wears, when a classmate in school comes up and stammers requests for a glance of his their way, and more than mere minutes brushing of shoulders, is that of someone who's used to people's eyes first being drawn to the feathered appendages, then to the sparkling pristine image of a Ward; last, if it ever comes to that, to the young man who lets himself be touched with covetous hands, his body a feast for people's eyes and mouths and fingers, like a bird plucked and then shared among the famished until there's little else but bones.

The truth that no one will ever, ever unearth from his tightly clenched fingers - the beating heart that's never been conquered, even if the rest of him is to be shared - is that Baxter Alexander Ward fucking loathes his wings.

"How do you keep these beauties looking immaculate?" A hand buries itself into the middle wing on his left side, fingers dragging through the feathers. 

Baxter's jaw flexes within a hair's breadth of a frown before it smooths into a smile as he cants a look upwards through veiled lashes. "It's no large undertaking. I've made some rather excellent purchases as of late that have made it all a breeze." A tilt of the head, an empty offer tumbling from his lips that expects no acceptance. "Would you like to see how I care for them? Perhaps," here, his voice drops into a coax, though he dares not hope for more. "You would like to try it on me?"

"I might," the person in his bed laughs. "If you'd also do me the favor?"

He sees them off with a gentle swipe of his uppermost wing against theirs - a sparrow's wings, he knows he'll remember them by this and not the name which will eventually slip from memory - drawing them close one last time with a wistful peck on their mouth. They bow over him and press back, smiling as their feathers rustle against each other; one side enthusiastic to the point of ruffling the other. The sound makes Baxter's stomach twist, and he pulls away to let them step back onto their doorstep.

"You're seriously something else, Baxter Ward." They shake their head in amusement, eyes roaming up and down the length of his body again. "I've got a newfound respect for how much of a pain those things are. Seriously." An awkward pause. "My bad, for the-"

The spot on his lower right wing twinges, the scapular feather that had been wrenched and bent out of shape by an impatient hand. "It's no big deal. Nothing of import, and something that can be easily fixed." 

They look at him oddly. He imagines that the concern in their eyes is his own wishful thinking. Though if it was real, it doesn't last, and soon his friend shrugs. "If you say so. Anyway, Jules's got something cooking this Saturday. See you around, then?"

"Yes, I'd love to." He knows that they won't. The campus is big enough to hold both of them and keep out of each other's orbits.

In the evening, Baxter Ward plucks the errant feather without even flinching and throws it in the bin. It irritates him to look at it, and even then, it'll grow back in time.

His hand snaps out and wraps around her wrist before she can pinch at the tip of her wing and pull. 

"Don't do that." He realizes that his voice is more forceful than usual when her eyebrows pinch together, a startled look on her face.

"Come with me, if I may be so forward." He slips his hand down and twines it with hers, nudging a clenched fist open to make room for his digits. She latches on more gently than he expects out of her. Baxter exhales, casting a look at the way the wings at her hips flex and loosen in an attempt to ease off the restlessness. It's been thrumming through her the moment he opened the door and found her looking so lost, a disquiet that speaks louder to him than she likely wants it to; he doesn't fancy himself an adept coastal dweller who can tell when a storm is coming through the movements of the waves and the specific shades of the sky, but he imagines it like this - one look into Wisteria Blanc's clouded grey eyes, not a glimpse of the sun behind them, and he finds himself just as unsettled.

"It's not a big issue," Wisteria refutes, yet she's allowing herself to be led inside. "And it'll grow back. I was rather careless earlier. Normally, I'm not..."

He allows himself a silent raise of the brow, lip twitching at the near-petulance she trails off with. With a firm push, he settles her down on the couch, shooting her a look as he pats one of the throw pillows down on her lap. "Let me hazard a guess: you'd rather not have Pamela or Noelani noticing?"

She bristles, feathers on either side of her head ruffling in time with the shake of her head. "... Wouldn't be good if they did. Cove would also feel bad, and I'd rather not see that."

Baxter promises to himself that he would get to the root of what this thing is, for it to make a trenchant eighteen-year old mumble and avoid his eyes. What is he to do when he finds out, he doesn't yet know, but there must be something. He lets go of her hand, keeping all his focus on her as he sits down. 

It's experience that makes him keep a respectful distance, after he's interfered with her earlier. 

Wisteria's right wing curls around her; the little bent feather at its very tip flutters with the motion. He makes sure not to comment on it, sensitive to every little motion and the jitters that follow them. After a long moment, she sinks her hands into the pillow, eyes intent on the patternless maroon fabric. "I saw one of my old classmates at work today. We weren't close, but... He was very tactile with everyone in class- And I tolerated it, to an extent."

It's a picture that paints itself, even with the incomplete details that she provides him. He takes a moment to let it sink in, watching her mangle the pillowcase between her fingers, before standing up. His own wings are just as stiff as hers, mirroring her. "I shall be back shortly, we must soak that part in a basin." Is there a shallow enough washbasin around his rental condo? Baxter quietly curses at himself. Of course, his habit of hardly staying inside long enough to know his way around this temporary summer residence - which feels less and less like a prison around her - would come back around to haunt him now of all times. 

Casting a warning look at Wisteria when he spies her hand slipping down to her wing, he leaves her in the living room. 

When he reemerges from his hunt around the condo, he clutches the plastic washbasin in his hand. Precariously balanced on top of them are the products he uses for himself, ones that take Wisteria out of her stupor long enough for her to blink at him in incredulity. He sets it all down on the coffee table, all except for the washbasin, and hurries to the open kitchen. 

The sound of water from the faucet, filling up the basin, is the only thing in the room until she speaks. "... What are these for?" 

"You will see soon," Baxter replies, shutting off the faucet and turning around. 

She's inspecting one of the bottles, holding it up to her face with an upwards tilt to the corner of her mouth. "Guerlain? Abeille Royal Revitalizing & Fortifying Care Feather Conditioner?"

The tight ball in his chest loosens. "I believe the results of my usage must speak for themselves." With a raised brow, he arches his six wings a little higher, a little wider, as much as he could indoors. Flaunting them, dancing around the edge of presenting. His face brightens when hers spread out on either side of her; tentative, and not as forward as she would on another day. 

Baxter has to remind himself that this is the same girl who flared out her wings, a warning in the way she stepped in front of Cove, on his very first day at Sunset Bird.

Wisteria Blanc's wings are ghosts that have haunted his memories ever since that strange little Summer Soiree at a country club. He doesn't think of them on the regular, but every so often he remembers the girl with plumage that looked like white paper halfway dipped in ink. The topmost part of the backs of her wings were a gradient that began from feathers as black as a starless night sky, lightening to varying shades of grey until one's eyes were near-blinded by the immaculate white of the remiges. It was a mirror to the unusual shade of her hair, an inkwash painting given life in silken strands that fell to her back and argent eyes that looked at him with undisguised curiosity.

What stuck out the most to Baxter Ward, fourteen years of age and already loathing the dismal dusty grey of his own plumage, was the tiny pair of wings on either side of her head, like a crown of laurels. 

He had been very young when he had learned that one's wings standing out was not always a good thing. 

A lot of societies since the dawn of the age of man have waxed poetic and built religions out of the appendages that every human was born into this world with. Some claimed it to be a leftover of the age of the divine, when gods and monsters walked the earth and brushed shoulders with mortals. Others claimed it to be proof of the existence of the soul, a physical manifestation of your inner self - an indicator of what kind of person you would grow up to be, the mark you would leave the world with. Yet even other schools of thought out there simply believed that it was a vestigial organ linking man to an older species that had once dominated the skies. Now, flight is more often than not impossible, since the structure of most wings don't make it feasible for them to carry their human bearers. A growing sentiment in the 21st century is that wings are useless limbs on humans, and the option of having them amputated is quickly growing popular. 

But most people are attached to a feature that they had been born with, even as they grow to bear complex feelings about their wings and the way the world would grow to judge you for how you carry them.

Baxter had known that his wings couldn't be an extension of his soul. They didn't reflect who he was at all, not when it took all that grooming and preening to look halfway presentable for his parents. If souls could be tampered with so easily to look as clean as a polished mirror, then perhaps humans are better off not trusting each other at all. Mirrors are dishonest things, the way they prey upon the weaknesses in your heart and morph your countenances into something you loathe once the negative feelings get their claws in.

He had wondered. What did that girl see in the mirror, with her four oddly-placed wings? It is a question that follows at the heels of fond remembrance; her blush stains that black-and-white memory, a shade of red that sometimes takes the edge off of the self-loathing that he feels when he grooms himself.

"You're very considerate," she had told him, back then, as they danced to the steps of a waltz. His wings were tucked in close to his back, painfully aware of the eyes on him. Adolescence had been an awkward, dreadful time with his lengthening limbs and wings, and how he had to make himself smaller, so as to not bump into others. "No need to keep them folded close; I want you to enjoy yourself as much as I am. The dance floor has plenty of room, and you don't need to constrain yourself for others' convenience."

A beat later, she had followed up with that blunt comment about his smile being cuter when it's genuine, and the Summer Soiree girl had found a place for herself in his heart. Autumn and his pretty golden wings, already a lingering ache that was slowly being buried with time, are swept aside by a lone encounter. One dreamlike midsummer evening that could only be topped by the summer of five years later.

His plans for this evening are cast aside; what’s one night spent aimlessly driving, seeking out the next empty attraction to whittle away his time in Sunset Bird, to caring for her? Sitting in his living room, kneeling down at the side of the touch, he keeps his palms spread open. Hovers them by her wing, eyeing her as he poses the question.

“May I touch your wing, Wisteria?” Her expression is at once hard to read and achingly familiar as he continues, “I would like to help you with your wing, if you would allow it.”

With his past flings, he’d readied himself to be rejected with his offers of them caring for his wings, after he’s finished with theirs. Yet he finds himself more mindful of her rejection, while at the same time fully understanding if she is to do it to him.

“We’ve already touched each other’s wings,” she prods, tentatively lowering her eyes to her hands. “I didn’t mind it during our hangout with the others.” 

Baxter remembers fully well what she means. There’s precious few memories that could make him feel like he could fly, wings as useless as they are. He still wonders what possessed him to have such courage at the time: to draw his shirt around her shoulders, enclosing her in three pairs of wings to ward off the cold, right until her friends jeered at them. The moment is as ingrained in him as the taste of the chocolate from her popsicle, when he bent down to try it. It’s the same taste lingering on her lips when he kisses her under the glow of the fireworks, their feathers pressed close to each other as she leans back against him.

“That was then, and this is now,” he smiles at her. “As elated as I am that you’re trying to tell me that I am implicitly allowed to touch you, I would still like to hear a confirmation from you this evening. Indulge me, if you will.” 

She regards him; he wonders what she sees in his face, to bring such a look of relief to her eyes. A gentle smile curves her mouth. “... right.” She takes a breath, and straightens her spine. “I’d like it if you help me, Baxter. Please, go ahead.”

It is a familiar routine to him, the act of soaking a bent feather to soften it up. “Your feather will straighten out,” he keeps speaking in low tones, taking glances at Wisteria. She’s relaxed in just the exact way to let him know that she’s not relaxed, hands lightly clasped atop the throw pillow she’s been clutching since he handed it to her earlier. If she’s mangling it like earlier, it’d probably be more reassuring.

He lips thin, pressing together as he turns his focus back to the ruffled feathers. “If I may ask. Is this your first time?”

“My first time having someone else care for them?” She shakes her head. “I groom my wings together with my family, once a month.” 

Baxter hasn’t ever seen his parents tend to each other. They had people they paid to do that for them, so what was the point? It had also been the way with him, growing up as a young boy, until he had one day visited the Murrays with Qiu, seen Mrs. Murray’s gentle hands preening her kid’s feathers. Of course, his friend had blushed so furiously when they both noticed that Autumn and Baxter had arrived early. 

It hadn’t seemed like a thing to be flustered about. Being preened by someone else looked warm and comforting, like a blanket around his shoulders as he sat in front of the fireplace in his big house, a cup of tea heating his palms.

He shakes his head. “Ah, I meant something else. Was earlier your first time,” he murmurs, hands drifting up to groom her feathers as the tip of her wing is left to soak in the basin. “Having your wing grabbed without your permission?”

She stiffens, the topic they had been dancing around brought to the spotlight. He briefly regrets bringing it up, before he remembers that she came to him of all people. Walked up to his doorstep, to her temporary neighbor, when she could have sought refuge at Cove’s, or even Terri and Miranda’s places. There are a good number of others that would have taken care of her, but she had come to him instead. It’s a callback to that day on the yacht, the way she had looked green around the gills and still refused her sister’s concern, only to allow him down in the cabin with her.

“No,” she sighs out. “It’s not.” 

Her wings are healthy, and carefully tended; a life being well-loved writ in glossy flight feathers and soft underwings. He’s seen her and Cove sometimes straighten each other’s feathers out in casual motions, barely taking a thought to do it for each other, and felt an odd twist in his gut. It’s not quite grooming each other, but Baxter could never have afforded to be so casual with someone else in such a way. Not after he had long left Golden Grove and the days of his boyhood behind.

“I find myself sincerely hoping that your manager had words with your old classmate.” He pauses for a moment when she squirms against his hand, realizing that her scapula feathers are ticklish. “If they were a customer.”

“You don’t have to keep hoping about that,” Wisteria’s reply comes out dry. “Yes, he kinda got kicked out of the restaurant and blacklisted. My manager is at least good about that, or maybe she didn’t want me to end up punching a customer on the job.”

This breaks a laugh loose from him. “Would it be too remiss of me to say that I would have loved to see that?”

“What, me getting fired?” There’s mirth dancing in her eyes. “Or punching someone?”

“Speaking any further would incriminate myself,” Baxter says, primly stepping away from answering that . He gives her a soft grin. “Thank you for coming to me this evening.” For ending up on his doorstep, just in time for him to stop her from plucking at her feather when she deserves a place to feel safe. For asking for him on the yacht when Liz, Lee, and Cove would have gladly gone. For making his evenings feel much less empty, even when she bumbles about it.

Later, she ends up half-asleep on his couch when he’s finished grooming her wings; having deemed it a long enough soak to soften her flight feather, he straightens it and feels a deep sense of satisfaction.

After the ice cream truck, the sun shower might be one of the quintessential summer experiences that could get him near-giddy.

Running through the sprinklers in a suburban neighborhood is one thing. Rain drizzling down like a lingering remnant of the clouds that have drifted far away, splashing the unsuspecting, reminds him of the weather in Golden Grove. It often rained in Golden Grove, particularly as autumn drew close; it was a much different experience, with cloudy grey skies offsetting the deep reds, golds, and browns of the trees far below, the rain like tears that tried to cleanse the deep ache that had made its home in his heart and brought him to flee the nest.

It reminds him of Golden Grove, and yet it is everything that a rainy day in his old hometown is not.

The sunlight is still out in full force. Rain droplets, caught in the sunbeams, lit up and glinted gold as they fell and cascaded down Wisteria’s face. It is the sight of them that snaps him out of his stunned delight, long enough to remember-

He brings her in close with one arm, shutting the car door she had just come out of with his other hand. Chiding himself for having no umbrella on hand, he brings his wings up above the both of them to shelter her from the unexpected drizzle.

The sunshower continues for a few minutes more; he wonders if Wisteria can feel his heart pound against his ribcage, her face tucked against his neck. He is at once both peaceful and unmoored, in awe of how the rain can feel so gentle. They stand there, Baxter unbothered by his feathers becoming damp, the droplets seeping through the topside to run in unseen rivulets down his plumage. 

For once, his seraph wings feel useful. 

When the rain ebbs, he lowers his wings with a sigh. A part of him feels almost wistful; it’s another moment that passed him by so quickly, one that he will look back on from time to time.

She is suspiciously still, wrapped up in his arm, up until she pulls away. “You didn’t have to do that,” Wisteria squints at him. “Your wings are all wet.”

Baxter grins at her, broad and unabashed. The tips of her ears are very red. “I would rather not see you beset with another cold, and right after our date. My wings will simply dry off.” 

Wisteria’s look is supremely unimpressed. She ruffles her wings, the ones on either side of her head flattening against her hair, and reaches out to take his arm. “Come on. We’ll dry off together inside my house.”

She brings him past the Blanc home’s threshold, pausing when they’re both inside. 

Elizabeth has once again made herself at home on the living room couch, hunched before her laptop with a frown to rival the size of Pamela’s Cheshire cat grins she sometimes sends her beleaguered daughters. Her wings, in fiery hues of deep orange and pale gold, flex about in annoyance behind her. He suspects that her summer courses are going on rather challengingly, and he and Wisteria both pause when brown eyes flicker to their entrance and narrow.

“That drizzle just now got you two, huh?” She eyes Baxter’s wings. He tenses, ready to be turned out the door for dripping all over the floor. Instead, all the elder Blanc sister says is, “Why is he soaked?”

Ria shrugs. “He thought that I needed an umbrella. And then decided his wings would work out.”

The frown that had seemed near-permanent for this afternoon melts from Liz���s face. “Huh.” She regards Baxter with an odd little half-smile, an impish tilt to her eyes and lips that has her little sister immediately on guard around her. “Well, hurry to the bathroom and help the poor guy, won’t you?”

Before Liz can say anything more, Wisteria shoots her a flinty look and tugs Baxter after her. They go to the bathroom on the second floor, and she gives him a little push on his back when he hesitates at the doorway. “Come on.”

The drying fans whirr to life, pelting them on either side with warm breezes that penetrate through the top layers of their feathers. He sighs as the temporary chill - brought on by stepping inside an airconditioned home with his feathers soaked through - melts away with the heated blasts of air. 

“I forgot to say this earlier,” Wisteria begins, prompting him to turn towards her. “But thanks for that.” She steps up, close and personal, towards him. “I would like to do something for you, in turn.”

His smile grows mischievous, from languid to heated at the drop of a hat. “I would adore anything from you, Ria, but you needn’t insist on a repayment.” He pauses, letting his gaze point to the closed bathroom door meaningfully. “I believe that a bathroom at your home wouldn’t be the most appropriate, though, would it?” His tone is idle musing and faux demureness. 

Cocking her head, Wisteria frowns. Her tone carries a distinct note of confusion. “I was about to ask you if I could groom your feathers after they’ve dried off.”

“What.” 

He… He didn’t mishear her, did he?

She grins at him, sharp and pointed. “You didn’t think I’d let you take care of me without doing the same for you in turn, did you, Baxter?”

He’s discombobulated, more than just a little stunned, and despite it all, so damn comfortable. Lying on his stomach atop her bed, he represses a shudder when lithe fingers smooth the downy insides of his wings, preening and tugging at long flight feathers.

“I’m sorry we don’t have the-” Wisteria pauses. “Guerlain products you use, but my Ma has something similar that she mixes herself.” She tilts her head. “I don’t really need additional oiling for mine, but Mom needs additional care for hers since she doesn’t produce as much oil naturally, and that’s why Ma picked the practice up. I suspected that it might be a similar case for you, considering the volume of six wings.”

An involuntary giggle escapes him when she pulls away from his flight feathers to run her fingers through the tiny feathers along his spine. He’s ticklish there, and he didn’t even realize until someone touched him gently enough to make the reflex kick in.

Baxter bites his lip afterwards, his face burning red.

There’s a pregnant pause, and then the fingers return to dancing atop the feathers up and down his spine. With a vengeance, and the deftness of an experienced piano player.

He tenses, doesn’t try to hold back that hard, and laughs; he fears that Elizabeth downstairs would hear the snorts and giggles that Wisteria evilly pries from him with her quick hand. 

Once the impromptu tickle attack has ceased, and Ria has taken pity on him, Baxter huffs and glares at her headboard. “You devious little - I swear, one day I will yet have my turn.” He sends her a look over his shoulder, promising playful vengeance.

“You relaxed.” Wisteria hums, turning her attention back to his upper right wing. He tries to ignore the ache in his chest. “I’m glad.”

His throat tightens, and he rests his head against her pillow. It’s fragrant with the scent of her shampoo, sweet and entirely her. “Tending my wings will be quite the hassle, I did not wish to impose it upon you.”

“... Baxter, I help three other ladies in this house with their wings every month. Well, two, since my sister is away at college more often than not.” Wisteria’s gaze burns into the back of his head. Her voice is quiet, laden with a meaning that he’s not yet ready to comprehend. “It’s really not a problem for me.”

There’s a lull in conversation afterwards, and he finds himself near to dozing off, eyes slipping shut more than once. She takes her own pace, moving like she has all the time in the world to focus on each and every feather. It makes thinking - more importantly, dreading - so much more laborious when there’s a gentle hand in his middle left wing, treating it like it’s a cherished part of him.

Wisteria speaks, voice barely above a hushed whisper. 

“In the one moment I got to take a good look at you before you hid me from the rain, Baxter Alexander Ward, I thought I was looking at an angel.”

In the hazy in-between limbo straddling consciousness and dreams, the part of him that listens recognizes the feelings that linger behind her words. He keeps his silence, letting her go on to think that such an admission went unheard.

“I think I’d prefer you over the popular interpretations of angels… You’re wonderful. You contradict yourself so often that I’m often confused. And you’re infuriating sometimes, and I can’t stop looking away from you. I don’t think real angels could ever be like that. So please, just remain as you are without trying to live up to them, or anything else.”

It’s not the first time someone has called him an angel. Rather, it’s an on-the-nose nickname from past flames, considering the three pairs of wings that he carries.

But it is the first time that someone has breathed it into the silence like it’s a secret, not meant for him to hear. Not meant to flatter him. 

Why, then, are they worth millions more than the praises so easily bestowed upon him?

It’s evening when he wakes up, just in time for a dinner at the Blanc household. There’s a sharp tease at the ready for him and Wisteria when they come to the table, courtesy of Elizabeth.

As Wisteria passes him a dish of mung beans, his hand brushing against hers, he swears to carry her words and their glow with him for as long as he could.

They say that humans have long become incapable of flight, their wings not physically capable, their wings a vestigial trait left over after millennia of evolution. To fly is a pipe dream, and humans can only look to the heavens with coveting eyes or resort to contraptions of steel and technology to mimic what they once took for granted.

But he thinks they found the feeling of flying attainable in other things, in the words one can say when they think the other is asleep.

fin.

[drawlody]

Wip of my Overlord!Adam n Sinner!Adam designs:D

Update: Now Overlord!Adam is more chimera-ish, I saw an idea bout him staying at a cathedral n wanna use it so bad damnnn. Sinner!Adam I decided agaisnt the wings n opt for a tail, would be funny if he was to sneak stuff with his tail n shit

Why 2? Cause i cant decied if having the mask morph into his face or just regular human face is cooler :DDDDD

Overlord: is not at the hotel, is doing relativecally fine through hell, he will get redeem albeit slower n more fucked up. Im thinking bout ripping off half the wings so he cant fly but can still use them to appear larger (plz i hold on this idea for 4y already i want to use it so bad). I'll give him some tattoos representing Eve n the kids cause DADAM IS THE BEST ADAM (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) also should i give him a tail hmmmmm???

Sinner: is at the hotel redeeming n is miserable, yes that is a skirt i saw that idea in 2 fics n it havent leave my mind once, it would be the closest thing he got to a robe, was thinking bout like a garderner apron but it look off so leather jacket it is. Off-coloured wings or no wings? On one hand having him curl up crying but unable to wrap himself in the wings is a delightfully painful ass image i would love to use but i also feel like without the wings it feel like its missing smth (cause technically it is ¯\_(ツ)_/¯) maybe really small wings??? like enough to lift him off ground but not enough to fly around n be use as a blanky how r we feeling bout that hmmm. Also idk if ya can tell but he only got 1 horn, cause he ripped off one:DDDDD

A lot of these design choice is the result of the 400+ adamsapple fics i read which btw update slow as hell today man i cant go an entire day with only one 2k word chap man plzzzzzzz (if ya want those fics do tell me ill try to find the ones im talking bout here)

Fun fact: i learn to draw chubby people specifically for this man (((o(*ﾟ▽ﾟ*)o))) like i wanna learn eventually but never really comfortable stepping out of my comfort zone. That is until this fucker came along n i will hate myself if i draw him as a twink

(as much as i love twinks this aint the char for that)

Plz go ahead n tell me bout ya own interpertation of Adam designs in hell:D!!! Like what hc r ya using here? i saw many go with robes, many go with the rocker vibe which obvs love that , litterally using that for mine (*✧×✧*) one even go full whore mode n i gotta say ✨slay✨

I'll go through each design choices once i finished the thingy so watch out for that :DDD

[trainwrecksys]

ok!!!!!!!! i am!!!!!!! going to just say it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! long long post ahead!!!!!!!!!

yes i look like an out of touch stan with a victim complex for one character when i draw no one but bentham in my fanart and completely ignore everyone else to feel sorry for him and yes i am aware and no i dont know if anyone else sees this in me or im just paranoid but bro i am annoyed with myself !!! i hate how stannish i am sometimes because yes bentham had every reason to be called evil but yeah i had a good few reasons to have a complete breakdown when i read that in the book !!!!!!!1 too much writing under the cut about a lot of stuff that is in my head and needs to get out for better or for worse idk

i have made a severe and continuous lapse in my judgement and i do not expect to be forgiven but genuinely the way me being a stupid shameless stan can come off to others even subconsciously is actually important because it makes me look like someone who would see a situation like the bentham siblings' in real life and side with the STRAIGHT WHITE MALE who has made more than mistakes and hurt people in moments of heightened emotion (end of library of souls)- but like not in defense of bentham for ONCE IN MY LIFE everyone feels emotions everyone gets hurt and he had a right to not be perfect after everything he went through but that doesnt mean hurting people is the course of action and bro i have completely ignored that and skirted around it for two years and IM NOT GONNA KEEP APOLOGISING FOR MAKING THIS TOO LONG BECAUSE IT BLEEDS INTO REAL LIFE AND I REALISE HOW MUCH OF A STUCK UP DICK I COULD BE NOT ONLY ABOUT THIS BUT IN GENERAL LIFE AFTER I READ THE BOOKS AND GAINED AN ATTACHMENT TO BENTHAM

the stuff im talking about is honestly mainly between me myself and i and most of the art i post is him either chilling or feeling a bit sad but the way i completely ignore miss peregrine's issues and betrayal to focus on how oh so hurt and betrayed myron was like there was no reason he was exiled

like yes years in a big mansion with three people to keep him company in the middle of devils acre with no way to resolve his trauma can do shit to someone but what about years feeling his sisters guilt, BASIL????? what about how she mustve felt after both her brothers DIED due to their own hubris???????????? what about how she felt she was a bad sister when she literally had to be like their mother with all the baggage she had then actually mother children while thinking her slightly better brother might have been getting better with him saying he was gonna give them info on caul only to see him SIDE WITH CAUL when he had just done something that COULD HAVE HELPED HIS CAUSE and then spitefully capture her and lead them into the mouth of hell OH MY GOD

and how jacob and emma had to deal with his bullshit being all "lets talk over tea!" and waiting for when it was right in the exposition to tell them who he fucking was, then telling them he BASICALLY KILLED JACOBS GRANDPA while giving excuses and them finding out later on that hE KEPT THE SUUL FOR HIMSELF?????? i made some bullshit reason up why he did that for my headcannons but lets be real the only reason they could have at least imagined was that he was planning on using it in the library. the information betrayed them either way and to alma again it was only a stab in the gut because he hurt a guy who was basically her son

overall hes not some aesthetic victimised pookie bear hes a more than flawed man who only did some things to mend his image and cant be excused for what he did and this whole post was basically me shouting at myself

[kitsquared]

Both directed at Phineas

The first image is panic over the news of what happened to Pereshati.

The second one belies unspoken anger for suggesting she leave the Lapileons for her safety.

Two expressions a day or two apart from each other.

One has Therdeo going to his uncle for help. For guidance. Like he used to do when he was younger. (He's gripping the letter from the carrier pigeon in his fist in a previous panel. He went straight to Phineas first).

The other brings up his quiet resentment at Phineas for leaving the family. For Therdeo who had stayed and endured the family's burdens. To impose authority over his uncle's judgement.

I love how this image draws you into the authority he has with his height, pose, dress. The lighting, him centered and tall in a long vertical panel.

He looks older here ? And quite often he speaks to Phineas alone with his hair down and not parted, casual clothes; he always looks younger and more vulnerable, showing Phineas' role as the elder guardian.

It's sad because the reason Phineas did not leave the family again was for Therdeo, who asked him not to go and to help him.

Phineas has also been concerned over Therdeo obediently taking on the title of Grand Duke at such a young age and fulfilling duties without thought to his own desires.

And it is Phineas who was overjoyed and relieved to have lived long enough to see Therdeo find something he wanted and worth fighting for.

For Pereshati to become precious to him as well. For her to become someone past being of use to figuring out the family's curse.

But now Therdeo has even threatened him. (The shadow of the sword!!)

Which is excessive, and I think is an effect from a lot of the recent situations and fear of losing her to the point of near possessiveness (his way of dealing things about Harari).

more ramblings under the cut

#and you cant doubt that Therdeo is clouding his judgement of Pereshati's safety#there were 3-4 separate scenes showing his reaction towards the shackles on her feet#the relief he had when she said she was only thinking of him when he was the reason she went through this says a lot#he knowss.. but given how less composed and more erratic his actions are lately ( not surprising with the situations)#it's clear what lengths he would go to for her whether for better or for worse#and phineas' concern is extremely valid. we were all throwing our hands up when she got kidnapped man

(I wrote down these tags down and decided to keep them)

Truly, Pereshati did so much for them. It's interesting that her kindness and recklessness due to her kindness has been a thing since she was young and now resurfaces in her interactions with the Lapileons that have both Phineas and Adeus questioning her place in the family.

If she does so much for a stranger, how far will she go for the Lapileons? if the shackles are any indication

[scribeforchrist-blog]

The Truthful Verdict 

MEMORY VERSE OF THE WEEK

=========================

+ Proverbs 16:7 When a man's ways please the Lord, he makes even his enemies to be at peace with him.

=========================

VERSE OF THE DAY 

========================

+ John 3:19 This is the verdict: Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil.

========================

** SAY THIS BEFORE YOU READ; HERE’S SOME CHRISTIAN TRUTHS **

I AM WALKING IN THE LIGHT

THE LIGHT EXPOSES MY SINS 

I AM NOT GRATIFYING MY FLESH 

I AM STRONGER IN GOD 

========================

READ TIME : 8 Minutes & 30 Seconds

========================

THOUGHTS:

=======================

    Darkness is something we all try to avoid, even walking into a dark room; every room some of us we go into we try to find the nearest light switch; now some people are comfortable in the dark; my parents can walk totally into a dark room and go in, and get what they need and leave , me on the other hand I am searching for the nearest light switch because I don’t like the dark, even small children they sleep with lights and some adults because they whether not be in the dark it makes them feel uncomfortable.

     I know a lot of us always want to be comfortable, and one of the things we learned this week is that sometimes God would place us in the heat or a hot season so we can learn to lean on him more , but today, we are going to be talking about darkness,, the verse said that people love the darkness instead of light because of their evil deeds a lot of people love doing what they do without anyone stopping them,from doing it .

 Verse 21: Everyone who does evil hates the light and will not come into the light for fear that their deeds will be exposed. 

    When we are in the light, we can see it all; once the light comes on, we see everything; nothing is hidden; all things are exposed, and all we must do is see; sometimes, when the light is to deem, we cant see what needs to be cleaned or attended to because of the amount of light we have but when we replace the bulb or add more light then we can see exactly what we need to do God is precisely that to us he’s that added light we didn’t know we needed . Until we try him and follow him, we won’t know until we fully give ourselves to him.

   Verse 22: But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light, so that it may be seen plainly that what they have done has been done in the sight of God.

      Truth is something ,a lot of people decline to hear. They whether hear a lie then the truth , but if we allow the truth of God to come in, many of us will change what we do and how we operate. When I first gave my life to God, I thought to myself I only had a few things to work on and I would be on the right path but then, as I grew in God and the light exposed me to what was wrong in my life, and he will do this to us all if we allow him, but we have to be willing to accept what he shows us. What is he showing you? What is he letting you know that you need to let go of?

  John 8:12 Again, Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness but will have the light of life.”

    When we follow the lord, we won’t walk in darkness because he is the light of the world; we can see everything, and our eyes are open; we are no longer behind a veil; we are opened to being corrected; we are opened to change because his great love and mercy and grace draw us to want to have more, it draws us to want more in him and to change deeply we then realized how unworthy we are to be in his presence we realize how sinful we are. Still, we also realize that when Jesus died for us, he cleansed us with his blood!  

   This week, we talked about God being sovereign and ruler over everything; when he created the world, he created it the way he wanted, and he created us in his image; a lot of us think “ God has no power over how our lives” and that everything goes the way we want and half of that is true we do have free will but God does have all the power and control , and He seen how our life will be when we were formed in our mother’s womb. 

    There is nothing about us that’s in the unknown to God; he knows it all. We might learn something new about ourselves, a new food, a new dislike , or something else, but God knows everything there is to know about us. Many of us can't accept that he knows us, but he does. When we accept this, fully and see he’s our father, and place him in that role, we will start to see how his love for us is undeniably remarkable.

   Psalm 139:13-15 For you created my inmost being you knit me together in my mother’s womb. (14) I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful; I know that full well. (15) My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.

   The word of God will last forever; when we walk in the light, that’s what we need to keep us in the light, which is studying and reading the word of God; when we study the word of God, the power that’s in it penetrates the darkness within and creates this truth in us to follow God, without the truth of God it will be hard for us to walk In the light

   The requirements to stay walking in the light are to be available to the truth and listen to God. We often don’t listen to God because we think we know what he is going to do, but it tells us in the words, “For who knows a person’s thoughts except his spirit within him? In the same way, no one knows the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God.” We don’t know what he will do unless we ask him what his will is, but our assuming can only get us into a deeper darkness, and to get out of this darkness, we must always seek the wisdom of God.

 ***Today, we learn about the light of God. Sometimes, it’s hard to stay in the light because sometimes, when we are in it, the light exposes what we don’t want it to, but when we are living for God. We are trying to let his truth stand; we must allow the light to change us; every day, as we read our word, we become stronger in him because we allow the word to mold and build us. We cannot grow nor know the lord more if we aren’t willing to read and allow his word to penetrate our hearts; we won’t change. We cannot walk in God and not read our word daily. 

   Hebrews 4:12 For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.

    This verse here shows how the word can change and mold us; it shows us how alive the word becomes to our souls when we comprehend and allow it to expose the darkness in our lives. Every day, we need to ask God, show me what you need me to do and what I need to change, and be willing to change in God. If you feel he’s exposing those issues, don’t wait another day to fix them. Ask God to help you fix your issues today. ©Seer~ Prophetess Lee

========================

PRAYER

========================

Heavenly Father, thank you for everything, Father; we ask you to help us stay in the light! Lord, we ask you to help us understand our word as we go through it and read it; help us apply it to our lives every day. Lord, we are sorry if we have done anything that’s not of you. Lord, we love you and thank you for mercy and grace; lord, whatever that’s in us that’s not of you, please change it; we are so grateful for everything; in Jesus' Name, Amen 

========================

REFERENCES 

========================

+ Jeremiah 23:29 Is not my word like fire, declares the Lord, and like a hammer that breaks the rock in pieces?

 

+ Ephesians 6:17 and take the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God,

 

+ Psalm 119:130 The unfolding of your words gives light; it imparts understanding to the simple

========================

FURTHER READINGS 

=========================

Proverbs 17

Leviticus 17

Ezekiel 14

Matthew 23

=========================

[yourlocalabstraction]

your soul design is so yumilicious I need all the details now on my dinner plate

fr tho I want to know all the soul design lore how did you create such a creature /vpos

OKOKOHHHHHHOKOK BUCKLE IN. YOU’RE GONNA GET THE FULL DESIGN PROCESS

I struggled the most with Soul ngl. I couldn’t really think of anything I could add that would differentiate him from the fanon standard. I’m a lil upset I couldn’t think of something more original, but nonetheless he turned out quite lovely !!!

I started with the color picking. I was very insistent on making everyone’s colors proportional to eachother. The main colors should have (about) the same saturation/brightness, contrasting colors that are the exact opposite hue of the main color, respective black/grey/white values (soul’s ‘grey’ color is more teal bc color theory but yea), shit like that i guess. The final palette is on the right, it’s what I use today.

Soul never got fully fleshed out concept sheets like the other two. I guess my brain just filled in the rest of the gaps without having to draw them. (I apologize for never finishing these btw. It’s been months man. I hope the blorbo doodles in the corner make up for it) The second image was done a lot later than the first btw. Idk if that matters but I’m bringing it up anyway.

His fit inspo came mostly from Pinterest. I just compiled a bunch of shit I think he’d wear. Plus a majestic cape because it makes him look plenty more epic.

OK MOVING ON. I decided that his main gimmick would be my take on his shaded side. The idea was to make it represent dissonance, and how it affects Soul. The shadow is basically just this fuckin void. It has no physical form, and you can just stick your hand in there if you’d like (he sometimes stores the trident there). However I wouldn’t recommend it. The feeling is indescribable, but very uncomfortable. The void has a life of it’s own in a way. It does not stay confined within the Soul’s physical form (or in my case, his lineart). When conflict is at a high, like, tridential regicide level high, the void will get very close to fully overtaking him. It only fully disappears once true concord is reached, and starts reforming when the next cycle starts.

Also, the mask !!!!! Throughout cacophony, Soul is having a huge fucking identity crisis and shit. He doesn’t really have a physical organ like the other two. He doesn’t know why he’s here, or what he did to deserve this, or why nothing he’s trying works, and just. What is he if he’s failing at his main purpose???? I think because of this, he doesn’t like showing his face around the other two. He needs to assert is power, and thinks that showing his face will make him come of softer and less of someone to obey, if that makes sense. He only really takes it off when he’s alone in his room or pocket dimension (still trying to decide if they have a mock ‘apartment’, or ever did at one point). But once he has the character arc in Two Wuv, it permanently comes off !!! Wahoo!!!!!!! If only the next cycle weren’t to start, resetting his newfound self image to its previous state !!!!!!!!!!

Ok this is getting long im putting a read more thing

This image was very helpful for designing the tine shapes!! Guess which one is Soul’s !!!!!! (Spoiler alert, im pretty sure its either the 2nd or 6th ones in the 2nd row. However i genuinely dont remember. This may not even be the right image)

Soul also has a strange tie with eyes. If the halves have pissed him off to the point of no return, he does this fuckin analog horror stare that freaks the shit out of them (although heart cant see he remembers it very well. Plus, he just k n o w s that extra eye is there). I haven’t really played around with this, but I like the idea of a freakishly absurd amount of eyes hidden within the shadow. I should maybe like. Draw that sometime.

Also, expect a Soil patch update in the future!! I’d like to make his fangs more deranged, and maybe add an earth pattern to the cape. Right now, he has no symbols on him that represent him in the astronomy metaphor.

Uhhhh i hoped this helped??? If i missed anything you were hoping to know about, do let me know !!!!!!!

[itwillbelonelywontit]

busts down the door hi its Me again im having so many thougbts today. okay hear me out. submissive sadist light and sadomaso shota L. shota L is obviously a little shit that is trying to entrap light into doing whatever he wants in bed thru manipulation and/or blackmail and i think he would try to goad him into worse and darker sex acts constantly both to blackmail him and bring him down to his level to leverage their relationship to his advantage but also out of a genuine curiosity to bring out the worst darkest parts of light out and how far he can push him before he snaps and how much he can get out of him and profile as kira in doing this. scratching and hitting light during sex to bait him into being rough, bratting until he spanks him. light knows hes playing into the hands of a child but also he cant help himself the little shit wont talk to him like this and hes going to split him in half to teach that boy a lesson in respect and definitely not because his bruised pretty flesh makes his head woozy. and i think he genuinely surprises L in how willing to hurt he is at times. eventually resulting in L holding lights erection while straddling him w his back to him, handing light a flog or maybe even a knife. and telling him to go at it, he'll cum fast anyway because L's small body being damaged gets him going like nothing else. taunting him with how easy itd be to kill him right then and there without even needing the deathnote (and god would it be so much more satisfying) but they both know he would never get away with that in any universe. but he can get away with drawing blood from L's exposed back and shooting rope on the boy's hands. because theyre both freaks

you are. targeting me immensely I FUCKING LOVE WHEN L LAWLIET USES LIGHT'S OWN SADISM AGAINST HIM OH MY GOD. because its all a game, no matter what universe theyre in,,, yes L is pushing light to his limits for blackmail, but hes also doing because light is so fascinating. hes conducting experiments on light's psyche. and light is having an absolutely terrible time. smiles. light has this perfect persona of a Normal, Good Man and only L can see how ugly and twisted he is underneath. he needs to see that part of light shine through. light "its not pedophilia if hes assaulting me" yagami. AND HOLY SHIT. THAT LAST IMAGE. I never see people use sadism as a sub trait, and we need to change that. L taunting and mocking light that he knows the reason light isnt hitting him is because he'd cum immediately, and light-sama is still in denial of his own perversion. i. really want to write this. oh my god. rotates this so fast in my brain. sadist sub light sadomaso dom L using it against him. I feel so ill /extremely positive

[halfusek]

so lemme just put it out there: using AI for generating art, nevermind if for a joke or seriously, in this point of time, plain sucks

i’m refering here to that bendy highschool crush anime thing whatever i refuse to interact with stuff about this so i’m not exactly familiar but what matters is that it was AI generated AND even more so it was not mentioned anywhere that it was until people started pointing it out

there’s a few problems with that

first one is obvious - just the use of AI - as yall probably know its been a highly controversial topic these past few months, because of course it’s built on thief - first stealing artists’ work and then stealing their jobs; a joke or not it STILL uses that based in thief technology... though there do exist some AIs that asks artists for constent, for example the one that deviantArt created recently (and people misunderstood and spread a lot of false information about but oh well that’s a whole other thing) BUT generally these services for AI generation of images steal from artists - and not only! - they just take anything they can find fitting on the internet, even stock images and there was a case about a stock image site suing one of these AI services because *yeah* it’s just thief

another layer to all that adds the context of the game they made itself... like... BATIM/BATDR’s story is at its core about exploitation of artists and - apparently wether they like it or not - evils of capitalism (i still cant comprehend how Mike Mood can be anti union after making a game like this but like lol). it’s about art, about struggle with it and it’s just soooo out of touch to do something like this for a company making such game like hello?? if you wanna take from how artists are abused in big corporations then maybe have some decency and don’t use tools that abuse artists??? like that’s just so in bad taste man i have no words

then comes the fact that they waited with mentioning that AI is used is in the video. it STILL isn’t in the description of the video (the time im making this post is 13th april 2023 so the vids been up for 12 days), which i think AIs these days even require to be given credit?? but either way a lot of people didn’t even realize AI was used and i don’t blame them, not everyone pays attention to details or has an eye for them, this is why such information should be included... if it supposedly was meant to be “part of the joke” all along

which i find hard to believe? sure it came out on april first but.. how exactly is it a part of the joke? the AI generation was simply used for making the art for this fictional joke game. it could have as well been drawn by a real artist and no part of the joke would have been lost because it’s not part of the joke at all? like it’s not mentioned anywhere and it’s not obvious (Meatly even said they heavily photoshoped the images because they looked bad) so i’m asking how exactly AI being used is part of the joke here because it just seems like it was used as a mean of creation here and there was an attempt to hide that it was done at all

and if they really didn’t wanna spend time and effort on drawing it themselves (i get it, they might be busy with other things) then just A. don’t?? make anything?? or B. use an AI that doesn’t steal from artists and credit it so people know? and if it’s reeeeaaally a part of the joke then actually make it part of the joke? even a singular line of commentary laughing off at AI would make this actually work but there’s just nothing

i’m glad that Meatly said they aren’t planning on using it for anything serious but using it for a joke is still using it like sorry but that’s just how it is

and the whole ordeal of not saying what AI it is just rubs me the wrong way because high chance is they aren’t doing that because this AI is one of those that steal from artists so... eh... like i realize this is an assumption but i think it’s fair to be a bit skeptical about them after everything they’ve done :’)

[mamadarama]

2, 3, 12 and 22 for Mika and Natsume please?

Only if you're up for it. I know you're dealing with a lot of asks rn

worry not brother im enjoying myself, ill keep doing these as long as people wanna send em!!

2. favorite canon thing about this character?

mika - hes retained his street urchin vibes even after having been in valkyrie for so long. i really like this because it would be so boring for him to have taken on valkyries image full time and changed the way he presents himself when hes not on stage too .

natsume - ohhhh where do i even start . i love his personality , hes so unique and bizarre he genuinely feels like someone i would have been friends with in middle school .

3. least favorite canon thing about this character?

mika - its a lot better than in ! era but i wish hed take more agency over his thoughts when theyre challenged . hes very quick to agree with other people . hopefully hell get there someday

natsume - i really cant think of anything .... i guess i could stand to see him be a little more open and honest about what hes thinking a bit more often

12. whats a headcanon you have for this character?

mika - he likes playing flash dress up games !! (lets assume the devastation that was the 2020 flash shutdown didnt happen in enstars )

natsume - he knows html javascript and python and he makes little mobile games (he also knows objectiveC/swift but fuck ios and their stupid exclusive coding language)

22. if youre a fic reader, whats something you like in fics when it comes to ths character? Something you dont like?

im not a fic reader so ill do this for visual art instead

mika - i like when people draw him w a little fang . ik he has this in canon but when ppl make it more obvious its really cute

natsume - i LOVE when hes drawn with slit pupils like a reptile , its so cool and really lends itself to the otherworldly air he has about him as well as suggests hes a little bit devious , which he is

edit: i forgot to mention something i dont like woops

mika - i dont like when people draw him scrawny. yeah sure hes a skinny little guy but cmon man hes had access to 3 round meals a day for years and with both niki and ibara in cospro and shu looking out for him theres no way hes getting away with eating anything less than that. and hes an idol . all that jumping around on stage has gotta count for something .

natsume - sometimes people make him tall ????? and its like ??? its not a crime but WHERE are you getting that from

[dawnleaf37]

9: ohhhhhh ok . So . Man what oc do I have that isn’t weird. Uhm. Uhhh. Uhhhh. Ok so . Like . it’s probably “No pictures! Whoops!” this thing is greasy icky yucky and I don’t even have an image for it because I just got the idea to make it today and I DONT have a good design nailed down for it. It certainly is. An oc. That I have.

6. Ok. So. No pictures! Whoops! is an amazing example of my process. It’s just:

i see a thing

i think “that would be really funny/cool/crazy as an object oc

i draw a sketch of it and then simplify the design a bit (ditti’s greeen wisteria is a good example! For a character I want to draw a lot, I need a shape that’ll be EASY to draw a lot and make it look semi consistent)

slap a few personality things on there that would probably fit and maybe some extra accessories and. That’s it lol. Literally

like, examples here:

Hydrangea was just me going “I want a nice plant oc that’s a bush. What would work?” oh! A hydrangea bush is fine (her name was originally Hydrangea Bush! I shortened it to hydrangea later)

RIRU was made as a doppelgänger to BIAS alumni cucked from RIP2. BIAS (a camp) alumni cucked. So I made it RIP(a camp) RUNNER UP (a placement). Messed around, didnt want a “2nd” on there so I put a lighting bolt and made the eye and arm fucked up of course cause of tesla. originally they were a lot nastier too !

i don’t remember how I made loveletter lol

pc is genuinely just the icon for the subeteanatanoseidesu main channel with horns derived from my other pfp character ellie’s second form(so. Meika hime and mikoto basically)

one time I saw a video about ghost plants and thought it was cool

on the bus I was thinking about literally any name for a character and like. I thought of Standard. Damn cant stop thinking abt that. I thought of Cadillac. Damn cant stop thinking abt that.

[dexaroth]

tagged by @blyszczopies to answer questions and tag mutuals id like to get to know better :3 tag list is at the bottom!

⭐ Favorite color:

i honestly have had some 'color opinions' sloshing through my head for a while.. its complicated but you can rarely go wrong with these ones 👆 these are the ones I like the most! specially when combined together!

for favorites.. it depends a lot on how you use the colors and if they're alone or accompanied! some things look bad if they're just completely sky blue and such..

(putting this under a read more bc its a Very long post)

for the purposes of having an ultimate favorite color.. man i honestly don't know. it's a completely even match between purple and blue, though only the non-100% saturated shades of blue bc true blue is quite unbearable. I think the ultimate champion in questions of how many things can work with it would be blue. sometimes too much purple can be unbearable, but too much blue not so much

red Can be beautiful in many cases, but orange is simply superior between pure yellow and pure red. pure yellow specifically is literally unbearable for me. i hate it so much. for me to like a yellow it HAS to be going towards orange or its nothin'. lime green is super beautiful but pure green is also too much, and so is cyan. though the specific range of teal/green-blue can be nice, but it does not come close to lime green, instead it accents it quite nicely.

we don't talk about pink. or magenta. or any of its hideous nicknames. perish the thought!

⭐ Last song played: erm. well. you see, most of the music i have downloaded came from youtube. and quite a bit of them from compilations of songs all in one usually 30+ minute video..

the one currently playing is by Lauren Bousfield. i've tried searching for the - actually paragraph cancelled. i thought it was one of the comps by the pavor nocturnus1 channel but it turned out to be from some random other channel. i was having trouble identifying which song it was because it's a single audio file but it turns out the song currently in that queue to be playing is the song Cascading Retail Spaces!

i've had this album compilation downloaded since.. 2017! damn! and other albums of hers too. I don't know anything else about her though, but her music slaps :3

⭐ Currently reading: ah.. i dont read at all sorry 😭 does looking at the drawings from the morpho books series grant me any pity points perchance..

⭐Currently craving: WAFFLES!!!! GOD PLEASE!! and cookies..

^my cookie pile in project zomboid. can you tell?? (no waffles bc they're randomly found and not able to be baked like cookies..)

⭐Coffee or tea: neither soz.. i did try to enjoy coffee like 10 years ago but its just meh. tea as well, very boring. not counting the fact i have to load these suckers with sugar for them to even be worth drinking >.> but i suppose i'd choose tea over coffee simply due to variety and that some are naturally sweet :J

tagging: @moodycarcass @oxu @crazysodomite (maybe even u again timo if u wanna awnser my curious inquiries below.. muahaha)

additionally might i add my own questions... for funsies :33

favorite stone pattern:

favorite time of day:

favorite cloud pattern:

actually hm its quite hard to come up with somewhat potentially universal interesting questions. fuck. erm

FAVORITE ANIMAL!!! this question never disappoints. additionally favorite family of animals maybe?..

also from the makers of the best question ever above.. what's the silliest/weirdest animal off the top of your head?

last dumb mistake in a game?

last triumph in a game? (life cant all be losses afterall..!)

favorite clothing pattern?

worst + best texture(s) to feel?

and finally.. name one cool thing that happened this week. no matter how small. it is your duty now! commence!

actually i suppose it'd be weird to not awnser my own questions.. well here goes:

i like the one stone pattern that's a bunch of thin slabs slotted together. the ref image i have says its name is cliffstone/bluff stone! i also like the 'bavarian castle' one!

time of day: DUSK!!! MY LOVELY DUSK!!! though dawn is veeery nice as well. i used to be fonder of the night but dusk is just sooo niceys. dawn loses points for giving way to the boring middays though. but every time of day has its charm

cloud pattern; i actually dont know their names besides cummulonimbus..? lemme search..

according to this chart ive found on ddg. nimbus! i love gray skies and i love rain and i love fog. stratus and scuds are also nice

fav animal: erm.. got myself in my own question! i dont think i have a true favorite? i suppose ill go with jerboas.. as for the family. rodents of course. im the rodent mutual how could i not choose rodents! blasphemy!

silliest animal: off the top of my head? its a worm-like animal with a goofy face.. i thought it was legless lizards but that's not quite it.. i dont remember the name 😞

though there is a guy that's named worm lizard apparently.. oh such a foofy goofus

last dumb mistake in a game: most recently i was trying to go back to my base in a car in project zomboid and ran straight into a insane zombie crowd. the car got stuck in the grass bc it was loaded to the brim and i tried to move it backwards and let zombies approach me with the hope i'd run away from them on time, but it was not moving and then i panicked and stepped outside the car near a zombie with the sprint key enabled, bumped into the zombie, fell on the ground and by the time the get up animation started the zombie was already eating my guy. i was so mad

last triumph in a game: not much of a triumph but i got to fitness and stregth to lvl 6 in pz which are grindy time consuming skills to lup. but i have a base and crops and my coogieeees

favorite clothing pattern: i also dont know!! id say checkers that arent too busy or its derivatives. but also star/celestial patterns of course

^ from my fashion inspo folder

worst + best texture(s) to feel: i hate silk and those ones that are like a million little hairs that i dont know the name in english. best i suppose would be plush/cotton? i dont know their names either lol

and finally.. name one cool thing that happened this week: hmm. i suppose the nice sky i saw earlier today? though also one my af attacks has gotten a lot more notes than i expected. which is epic 💪🐁