#art : just color in the lines and you'll get it like they promise

[vendettavalor]

// Finished a doodle of Alfie's beloved Rathian, Rosewing!

// I'm kinda obsessed with how she turned out, ngl. She's a lot more vivid than your typical pinkie thanks to her more varied diet. Additionally, I switched out the brown coloration on her scale-tips and legs for a deeper red that matches Alfie's hair- same reason why her tail spikes and feathers are that deep maroon and tipped with a paler color. It's supposed to be a motif representing her connection to Alfie.

// As for her wings, the patterns are different because they were painted on by Alfie. Her wings were originally blank with these very pale spots that never really developed, and as her bond with Alfie grew stronger, Alfie painted on symbols from her culture that Rosewing liked. The outer patterns represent strength, growth, and connection to nature, while the inner patterns represent love, connection, and the power of kinship while also being a sort of eye-spot design for intimidation. (Also the arm parts have stripes the shimmer in the light as a nod towards what their eggs look like.)

// Overall really like how she came out <3

[vendettamuses]

// Force sensitive Heelers ❤️

// As requested by @nemekii

[vendettamuses]

// 10+ years and I still love you, Candice ❤️

What 10 years of progress does to a mf

[terresdebrume]

There is a dull knock of wood against the door when Edwin tries to make his way into his bedroom, and he sighs. The discovery is not strictly speaking unexpected. He and Charles have been sharing the Fridge since last November, after all. Edwin has had some time to get used to his friends' general habits.

"Charles," he calls out, keeping his eyes on the ground so he can sidestep Charles' cricket bat, some of his math equipment, his broken alarm clock, and what looks like the gutted content of his art box.

Charles is sitting at his desk, the one closest to the window. He is already in his pyjamas, his socked feet firmly perched on the seat of his chair. The long line of his back, vanishing into his long-sleeved shirt, curves forward so he can bend over his latest art piece, his legs framing him like a pair of red checkered wings. From the window outside, the pale light of late afternoon splashes against him, highlighting his curly hair, the shape of his jaw.

There is a purple stick of chalk in his hand, the tips of his fingers coated in it. There is a long line of turquoise along the curve of Charles' nose, as if he had scratched an itch with another piece of chalk. He is wearing an expression of profound focus that only ever seems to take him by surprise, and Edwin indulges in the sight for a moment, heart full to bursting.

After a while, Edwin knocks on the wall, calling Charles' name again. Charles takes the sort of deep breath Edwin gets after a long study session, then turns to him with a smile. Edwin, as usual, cannot resist answering with a quirk of the lips, even as he tries to scold:

"If Mr. Hampton sees this you'll be scolded again."

"I'll sort it out before dinner," Charles says without any sign of concern. That only leaves him about twenty minutes to get half his belongings off the floor of their room, but Edwin elects not to point that out.

Instead, he finds a path through Charles' explosive organization system to stand behind his chair. On an A3 sized sheet of paper, Charles has drawn dozens of flowers: pale blue lilac and darker hydrangeas, purple lavender and forget me nots, turquoise-looking mint, and even a few unnaturally blue daisies. In the middle, in blinding white, large letters, a single word: ਮਾਣ.

"Do you like it?" Charles asks.

Edwin looks back at the piece. He finds the color scheme soothing, if occasionally unrealistic, and familiar in a way he can't quite place. The motifs are uncharacteristically neat for Charles, who enjoys playing with the abstract, but pleasing nonetheless. And blue or not, daisies are Edwin's favourite flowers.

"I love it," he says sincerely.

Charles beams, and Edwin feels it like sunshine on his skin.

"Brills!" Charles exclaims, "I made it for you!"

Edwin turns around before he can help it, but no: the door to their room is firmly shut, and no one made their way in behind him. When he looks back to Charles, his grin has taken an amused, almost fond quality.

"For me?" Edwin asks, just to be sure. Charles laughs.

"Yes, you. It's your going away present."

He extends the paper to Edwin, who holds it gingerly with the tips of his fingers. He tries to take the whole piece in again at once, gaze flickering from one flower to the next, to the detailing of a leaf, to the bottom left corner, where Charles signed his name. He wishes he could say something—knows that he should, at least—but his throat is closed up, and his eyes strangely warm. He has to swallow several times before he can croak out:

"It's beautiful, Charles. Thank you."

"You're my best mate, you know," Charles replies, easy as breathing. "I just wanted to give you something special."

"It is," Edwin promises, clearing his throat to keep the tears threatening to spill contained to his throat. "Thank you." He sniffs as discretely as he can, and Charles generously pretends not to notice. "Is this Punjabi?"

Charles nods, a new layer of pride entering his expression. From what Edwin understands, Charles has received a lot of remarks on his penmanship from all his teacher except for Mr Madan. If his handwriting in Punjabi class is as neat as the painting, Edwin can understand why.

"What does it mean?"

"Pride," Charles says. "For everything you've accomplished this year. Also because you're a bloody brilliant friend, and I'm real proud you picked me."

"It's 'really proud'," Edwin points out, looking away from Charles as his cheeks and neck heat up.

It comes out snippier than Edwin intended, but Charles simply rolls his eyes.

"Well I'm really glad that you're my best friend," he says, giving Edwin's shoulder a gentle shove. "There's not a part of you I don't like. Consider this my encouragement to be as proud of yourself as I am of you, yeah?"

The warmth spreads over the rest of Edwin's face, and he diffuses by pointing out they won't leave the school until the end of the week, and Charles is being dramatic. Then, when that doesn't work, Edwin nags Charles into dealing with his things before the dinner bell. They spend the entire evening bickering around, and Edwin thinks he's the lucky one.

Much, much later, he realizes why the color scheme on the painting seemed familiar, and cries happy tears again.

This snippet is more of a laying down of concept than a proper fic and will eventually be edited (probably added to) and crospposted on AO3.

[viviennevermillion]

Amusement Park Date

contains: character x gn!reader, modern au, a little bit of crack, a bit of making out w/ pantalone (nothing suggestive tho), scara still has his vision

characters included: kaveh, pantalone, wanderer

warnings: none

Kaveh

Believe it or not, Kaveh has actually been saving his money for this trip for months. Granted, Alhaitham had to remind him repeatedly that he'd been wanting to go there with you for ages and that he better get a grip if he wanted to make it a reality, but Kaveh eventually did it.

The date at the amusement park was actually a birthday gift for you (along with a painting that Kaveh drew, trying to portray his love for you with colors!) and he was so happy to see that you liked it! Though....Kaveh at times seemed actually more excited than you.

In the last two weeks before the trip you'd often get messages like "only 8 more days!!!" from Kaveh.

When the day is finally here, Kaveh wakes up at an ungodly hour in the morning and attempts to wake you up with his kisses. He'd press soft kisses to your temple and nuzzles your cheek gently. "Kaveh....love....just 10 more minutes", you mumble against his lips before kissing back sleepily and then burying your head in his chest. Kaveh will carry you out of bed if he has to.

He puts on a colorful shirt with a triangle pattern and a deep v-neck and wears a loose-fitting jacket over it. He adds a bunch of accessories, including big creole earrings, to his outfit and straight up looks like he's been hired to model at the amusement park.

Already takes a bunch of pictures with you on the way there. His favorite is the one where he's giving you a sweet kiss to the cheek.

He goes to the bathroom and leaves his phone on the train seat next to you and you happen to see a notification from Alhaitham texting "stop sending me couple pictures."

"I think I can see it!", he tells you excitedly during the last ten minutes of the train ride, trying to spot the amusement park in the distance.

Heartbroken over the fact that he has to wait in a line at the entrance. Spends the time listening to his new favorite playlist. He shares his headphones with you and gives you a kiss whenever there's a line in the song that reminds him of his love for you.

He adds the amusement park music to his playlist too. Whether they play pop songs or have special themes for their different rides, Kaveh wants to keep them in his memory.

He tells you that you can hold his hand in the haunted house if you're scared but he ends up being the one clinging to you.

Confused by the mirror labyrinth in the fun house. You're standing there snickering like: "Keep going Kaveh, you'll get there, I believe in you."

He gets a big cotton candy for both of you and then complains that his fingers feel sticky after eating from it.

If there's photo booths or those cardboard cutouts you can put your face in, he insists to do that with you. "Hey, y/n, did you know that Alhaitham blocked me?" "Did you try and send him this photo?" "....Maybe?"

Kaveh is super excited for the rollercoasters but the thing is that he's never actually been on a rollercoaster before so he's definitely one of the people who scream the whole time. After trying one with a loop once you have to sit down with him on the bench for like 20 minutes and he's never going on one that loops ever again.

He accidentally befriends a painter who offers to paint the amusement park visitors in exchange for some mora. Kaveh has a whole conversation with him about art, exchanges numbers with him with the promise to work on a collaborative project sometime and dude decides to draw a couple picture of the two of you for a reduced price because Kaveh was so appreciative and polite.

His favorite ride is the chairoplane and he wants to go on it multiple times and holds your hand throughout the ride, just appreciating the feeling of flying, along with the upbeat music and the bass from the speakers.

Probably starts a flash mob in the big square in front of the chairoplane on accident and then a bunch of people end up dancing together to a popular pop song. If you agree to dance with Kaveh, he'll be absolutely delighted, giving you his brightest smile everytime he looks at you.

He tries to win you a plushie or something else you like at a shooting booth or the claw machine but fails miserably and sulks about it.

Decides to get dinner with you at one of the food stalls and orders something for himself that's way too spicy for his tastes.

He tops the trip off with a boat ride on a beautiful swan lake once the sun is setting. He holds you close against his chest and sings you a song quietly, pressing a kiss to your forehead after he's finished. "I love you so much. I'm going to keep this day in my memory for a long, long time", Kaveh whispers softly and leans his head against yours.

When he gets out of the boat, he tries to feed one of the swans and the swan hisses at him. "Oh my god...", Kaveh gets startled as the swan slowly starts walking after him and hissing louder. Kaveh starts walking a bit faster and the swan starts running. "Y/n....y/n help", Kaveh sounds a little uneasy. "Hold on, I just gotta send this to Alhaitham", you snicker as you record a video of the swan charging after your boyfriend.

Pantalone

He actually owns the amusement park and he wanted to take you on this date to spoil you rotten and also subtly brag about his fortune so your job here is to be as much of a menace as you can be.

"No." Pantalone crosses his arms as he stares at your mischievous expression, as you're waiting for him to take his seat next to you on the water coaster. He clutches his expensive jacket tighter around him regretting the fact that he didn't see this coming and contemplating why he didn't just take you to a fancy restaurant instead. Because you knew they'd love it here...., he sighs and thinks to himself as you stare at him with your pleading eyes. "Pantalone~", you reach out your hand to him and oh god he's so weak for you. Regrets all his life choices when he gets into the coaster but still has to smile at your excited expression and the kiss you press to his cheek as a thanks for doing this with you.

The only reason he doesn't scream on the rollercoasters is that his anxiety for his reputation is bigger than his fear of the rollercoaster. Needless to say he ends up soaked on the water coaster and the camera takes a picture exactly when all the water splashes into his face. So you spend half an hour in a staff bathroom with Pantalone as he gets a hair dryer delivered there by the park staff and tries to dry off his clothes and fix his hair.

"Sorry....I thought it would be fun...", you start feeling guilty for wanting him to take the coaster ride with you. Pantalone's face softens and he presses a soft kiss to your lips multiple times. "It was", he reassures you and squeezes your hand. You help him dry his hair and then proceed with your trip.

"Hey, isn't that the head of surgery in that hospital you own?", you ask in confusion as you see the man dressed in the mad scientist costume in the haunted house. Pantalone greets Dottore briefly. "Doesn't he make a whole lot of money already? Why does he work part-time at the haunted house?", you whisper to Pantalone once you've passed Dottore by. "Oh he doesn't work here", Pantalone chuckles, "this is more of a hobby of his. He's doubled their revenue ever since he started coming here so they let him in and out as he pleases."

You hear a kid sobbing behind you as you get out of the haunted house, his mother patting his hand gently. "Don't worry Timmie, the mad scientist isn't actually real, it's just a costume", she explains softly and little Timmie picks up a pigeon from the street and holds it for comfort. "Oh dear", Pantalone chuckles and reaches for your hand.

You have to stop Pantalone from buying out the entire souvenir shop for you.

He also questions all his life choices when you go on the spinning tea cup ride and you spin that thing so fast that Pantalone is clinging onto the seat belt for dear life

He asks you to go on the tunnel of love ride with you next and you agree.

"Pantalone....is it just me or is this ride going way slower than it's supposed to?", you raise your eyebrow at the innocent smile he gives you, "also why are we the only people in the boat?" "Don't worry about it", Pantalone keeps smiling at you and kisses your lips gently but passionately. He holds the back of your head and pours so much love into his kiss that for a while the only thing you could focus on was his overwhelming amount of affection, the way he squeezed your hand and the way he started trailing kisses down your neck. Your tone becomes serious. "Pantalone did you block the other people from the ride and reduce the tempo by 75%-", he cuts your words off by pressing his lips to yours again, undoing your seat belt and pulling you onto his lap. He wraps his arms around your waist and presses several kisses on the spot just below your ear. "I love you", he whispers and holds your face in his hands, looking at you like you're the most valuable treasure in his whole life. "I swear to god if I fall out of this boat- the sign says 'keep the seat belts on'", you mumble. Pantalone just smiles against your lips before giving you another deep kiss. "This thing is going at a speed slower than we walk, you're not going to fall out of the boat, love", he pulls you close to him and hugs you, "just relax...."

So you melt into his embrace and you had to admit that for all the schemes he's pulling, it actually felt nice to take some time off from people for a while after being surrounded by families with children and loud park noises all days. So you let Pantalone kiss you for as long as he pleased, enjoying the taste of his lips and how soft they felt against yours. His lips still tasted like the peach lip balm he put on after the water coaster. His fingertips draw circles onto your back and you bury your hands in his soft hair. Pantalone smiles into the kiss. You knew how much he loved when you played with his hair. Pantalone rests his head against your chest and closes his eyes, just letting you pamper him for a while.

"You know, I feel like we've been in there for 20 minutes", you mumble as you get out of the ride. You glance over to the entrance to see a long line of angry people, some chanting "let us in!"

"Oh my god what have you done?", you look at Pantalone who just chuckles, winks at you and wraps an arm around your shoulder. "You've been complicit in it."

Once the park closed up, Pantalone guides you to the biggest square in the park as you watch a hundred of beautiful lanterns rise into the sky. You try not to think about for how long the staff members had to work extra hours just so Pantalone could spoil you. "A dance?", he asks you softly and holds his hand out to you. You dance with him to the slow music underneath the lights, marveling at their beauty while Pantalone can't stop staring at your face instead. He could have a show of lights everyday if he wanted to. Few things he could gift you were anything extraordinary for him, but you were the most special person in his life and he still couldn't believe he was blessed with your love every day.

He gestures for you to wait a second as he disappears behind a booth and comes back with a bouquet. "Y/n.....I love you more than I could possibly put into words. Please accept this bouquet of diamond roses as a token of my love. They'll never wilt and they're everlasting just like my love", he takes your hand in his and presses a soft kiss to it. "How are you not broke yet?", you sigh and give him a tight hug. "Do you not like them?", he asks, worry lacing his voice. "I love them", you look up at the night sky again, holding your bouquet and Pantalone wraps his arms around you from behind as you both watch the lights rise into the night sky, "I love you."

Wanderer

Kicks this trip off with saying "I aspire to be that childless couple cranky 30+ year old parents get mad at solely for being at the amusement park" and that is the general vibe of the entire day.

He doesn't feel like standing in the waiting line at the entrance so he tells you to hold onto him and just uses his anemo powers to fly to a spot straight at the ticket booth.

One of the park employees dressed in amusement park merch greets you with a friendly smile. "Welcome to Primoland - here you can find everything you wish for", he says and Scara replies dryly. "Even my sanity?" "Scara- Two tickets please." The man at the ticket booth looks at you two with a questioning expression but hands out the tickets, probably glad to see you move on.

He's mostly silent on the rollercoasters since they don't bother him much nor are they that much fun to him, so he usually sits there with a straight face. Except if you scream or cling onto him because you're scared. Then he makes fun of you.

You don't know how but you take your eyes off him in the haunted house for 3 minutes and he scares the crap out of at least 5 children.

He wins you the biggest teddy bear at the shooting booth, popping the balloons with his anemo powers. "So you don't complain that I didn't get you anything or something like that", he mumbles and hands it to you. "Hey! I wanted that bear", a small kid next to him pouts and Scara sticks out his tongue to the little girl. "Scara, please, you're an adult-", you facepalm. The girl's mother snaps at him that her daughter wanted that teddy bear and that he shouldn't be such a spoilsport and let the child have some joy. "I really didn't expect to meet such entitled adults when coming here with my family today", she shakes her head and puts her hands on her hips in disappointment. "And I didn't expect to meet a slightly more boring version of Ebenezer Scrooge and yet here we are", Scara retorts and you pull him away by his arm.

Please stop him from picking fights with random visitors.

He wants to get you a popsicle at the shop near the entrance and there's a couple in front of him with their cart packed full of candy, about 50 Primoland socks, matching t-shirts and all kinds of toys. Scara looks grumpier by the second as they seem to take half an eternity to pay for their stuff. The man turns around to him and gives him an apologetic look. "We have 7 children", he explains. "I can see that", Scara replies dryly. Your popsicle is already half-molten when he comes out of the shop. "We can drink that with a straw at this point", Scara mumbles.

You take a photo of him holding a big cotton candy and comment on how cute he looks and he just looks super annoyed on the picture which may or may not be due to the fact that he's blushing quite a bit.

You go on the ferris wheel with him, expecting to have a nice and relaxing ride with him, perhaps cuddling a bit but Scara stands up and starts making the gondola shake a lot from the inside. You grab him by the waist and pull him onto your lap, holding him in place. "Sometimes I feel like it's a bad idea to take you anywhere ever", you sigh and bury your face in his shoulder, gently kissing his neck once in a while to make sure he stays still and stops trying to tease you.

The bumper car ride is his absolute favorite. He drives like a madman and manages to use his abilities to make the car go faster than intended, ramming into everything in his path. He wants to go several rounds and two boys ask him what they have done to upset him. "Scara, we're trying to have fun here not cause someone a concussion....", you joke. "Maybe that is my way of having fun", he teases and sticks out his tongue to you. So you meet it with yours and pull him into a kiss, his eyes widening but he melts into your embrace immediately. He's like this cat:

author's note: planned to post this on wednesday but then I got something in my eye and couldn't open it anymore so I wrote kaveh's part with one hand and a shirt tied around my left eye.

[sn00pism]

Let's study! Meguru!

A small blurb that I came up with while in class lol. He'd be a menace 10/10. I'm working on expanding this on my wattpad! Characters: Bachira Meguru x reader

College! Bachira who you see in your literature classes even if he's an art major.

College! Bachira who one day asks for your notes as he's completely lost on what the fuck is going on, so you lent them to him.

College! Bachira who invites you for coffee one day as thanks for your notes and totally screws up his suave line, "would you like to go out, wait no, like just, uhm, would you like coffee? Like with me? Like go out to have coffee with me?"

College! Bachira who pays for the coffee, yours a sweat cream cold brew while his is a pink strawberry yogurt frappe. The colors contrasting your outfits.

College! Bachira who wears a black sweater underneath blue overalls and black converse with a black bomber jacket while you're wearing a pink sweater matched with Jean shorts and white puma sneakers.

College! Bachira who blushes when you tell him you're almost matching with him.

College! Bachira who turns beet red when it slips out that maybe you guys should match on the second date, you agreeing. Both of you staying quiet for a second until it dawn's on the both of you what just happened.

College! Bachira who smiles widely, cheeks and ears red but holding up a pinky to make you pinky promise to go on a second date with him. After all next time you'll match clothes!

College! Bachira who ends up walking towards a playground, sitting on the swings and asking you to push him.

College! Bachira who starts telling you how he's never cared much for reading but he's taking literature just so he can see you.

College! Bachira who smiles sheepishly as you scold him, telling him he could've just talked to you in the hallways.

College! Bachira who invites you to his games, he has one this Friday and he hopes you could go and meet his team.

College! Bachira who talks non-stop about his best friend, Isagi and how he really loves soccer and his teammates, how cool Rin is and how scary Barou gets on the locker rooms when they leave a mess.

College! Bachira who listens excitedly as you tell him about your friends and about the literature course you're both taking, nodding enthusiastically when you offer to tutor him.

College! Bachira who takes your hand as you're walking home, cold from the frappe he was holding earlier, but none of you mind, swinging the joined hands softly and humming.

College! Bachira who smiles as he drops you off, eyes widening when you give him a kiss on the cheek and a promise that next Friday you'll go to his game.

College! Bachira who fist bumps the air, almost yelling out in glee, unaware you can see him from your window doing a little victory dance.

[daydream-the-demon]

my 10 year old friend told me I’m useless for not playing with her at the park, I was drawing and she said “ no one’s seeing it, you don’t post it, you don’t sell it so what’s the point” and she’s right I do post my “art” and not sees it cus it doesn’t look good, I have to except that I am talentless 🫠

No girlypop, you do have talent.

Many can't even draw like you. Many don't even dare to do perspectives. Many aren't good at lines or colors like you. You try hard and you put emotion and soul into your work which is better than some. (*AHEM-* AI "ART"-) Sure you have your weaknesses here and there, but many do. I see you're a beginner who has potential.

I am now a, I don't mean to brag, but I'm decent at art.

Look at my old pieces though, way back from 2022:

Uneven lines and no sense of space. But the colors are good, the concepts are good, the backgrounds aren't bad. You just have to be a little optimistic to find the good.

Now look at where I am now:

I still messed up. The first one? I didn't even care to draw the background, the hairline was wrong, the hands were weird, the hat has perspective problems. The second one has 3 dimensionality problems with the clothes, the hand is bent wrong, the face is disproportionate, I held the pencil too tightly.

Look at the progress. Mistakes happen, yes, but look. Did I ever back down? No. When I was insulted did I stop? No. Now look. I have more to go, much more, but the progress is there.

Also, you don't have to make art for anyone. That's why you have private sketchbooks, that's why you doodle on the homework you know you'll probably lose or never get back, and you do it for fun. You put in and let out feelings and vibes you have. It can wash away like your emotions at the time, but it never leaves your mind. You felt things and wanted to express them.

I remember I made a book cover for something I was writing. I have no idea where it is, or where it went. I think it ended up getting corrupted. Am I a bit sad? Of course. I'm not mad, though. I remember about it. It was a demon x angel romance, it was one of my sparks into having my obsession with demons and angels.

Now look at me, many of my OCs are angels and demons. Hell, I like Hazbin Hotel!

Art always has an influence. It's yours after all.

One last note. Give this to your "friend":

🖕

It's not their job, or anyone's, to put you down like that.

Keep going, I believe in you. Look at what I did, you can also do it. 💋💋💋

You don't need talent either. I have a friend who literally could not write anything without it looking like scribbles. Their art was the same. After practice for months though, their anatomy improved.

There is a reason people say "Practice makes perfect", because it really does. I learned much of my skills from Pinterest, and some from my art tutor. It's possible, I promise.

Make art for yourself, and most importantly have fun with it. It doesn't have to be good. It's just a hobby after all.

[kunaigirl]

Hello! I just went through your art tag and your art is really cool! I love the way you use bright colors but in a soft kinda way and your line art is GREAT! Love the robots you draw too! One question though. How do you find the motivation to keep drawing your oc's? I never see your oc art get more than 5-12 likes and 2 reblogs maximum from what I've seen. How do you find the motivation to stay so passionate about drawing them with such little interaction? Not trying to be rude, it's a skill I'm trying to get myself. I rely too much on post numbers and get very discouraged and unmotivated when a drawing flops. Any advice? Again, your art is awesome btw! Followed!

Hi anon! Thanks for the compliments! I'm glad you like my art, I put a lot of effort into stuff like the coloring and line-art stages, so it makes me happy that you like those aspects specifically! And YES!!! ROBOTS ARE SO COOL!!!

To answer your question, I just really REALLY love what I draw! Is my art perfect, of course not! There's always room for improvement, but that doesn't change how I still absolutely LOVE my OCs! I love drawing them and sharing them no matter how low the notes are. I'll try my best to put it into words.

While it's really easy to feel unnoticed, you gotta draw what makes YOU happy! Nothing you create can ever really "flop" because YOU made something! Fuck how social media brainwashed us into thinking low interaction numbers means no one cares. I'll tell you how I stay motivated, hear me out.

I think about it this way. Let's say on a good day, my OC art gets 20 likes. Imagine sitting in a room with 20 people, and they all like your original characters/art! Think about a classroom, for example. 20 people in a classroom is pretty full, and they love my work! They liked it enough to save it to look at again later! They bookmarked it into a specific tab so it's even easier to find again! Dude, that ROCKS!!!

Now let's say a drawing gets 7 likes tops. Imagine you're sitting at a kitchen table with 7 people. People have to bring over extra chairs, and they like your original stuff and let you know! And again, they liked it enough to save it for later again! Suddenly it feels more substantial, right? As soon as you remember that behind the screen there's an actual human person, the numbers stop being just numbers.

And well, that's how I think about it! Draw what makes you happy and tell the stories you want to tell! Don't associate low numbers with an empty space, because that space isn't empty! People DO enjoy your art, and the proof is right in the number you're discrediting. If you're drawing specifically for high numbers, you'll probably feel let down. If your drawing for yourself, any amount of interaction is a welcomed bonus! Give yourself some credit, and let yourself feel positive about it! It's ok, I promise.

[randoimago]

Thank you so much for keeping up with the writing! I know I struggle sometimes so I can imagine there are probably days where it's a bit hard to keep up?

All being well, could I get a friends to lovers with Brassius (Pokemon), where they're artist friends? Thank you 🙏💚💚

Picture Perfect

Fandom: Pokemon: Scarlet / Violet

Character(s): Brassius

Type of Request: 3,000 Followers Oneshots

Note(s): I have over 60 in the drafts rn so I know once the ask box is closed that I'll have a time 😅 But I do hope you enjoy this!!

Edit: Hi, Current Mod Kat. Yeah it was a time but a fun time!!

"That's the wrong shade of blue."

"It's the shiny version."

Brassius gives a small smile at your remark to him deliberately trying to mess with you. He's not usually one to be playful when it comes to art, but with your long friendship and how serious you look while drawing a pokemon. You look really cute in his eyes, and he couldn't help making a bit of a comment.

Brassius moves to work on his own drawing, making sure the colors are exact as he glances to his rotom where a reference photo of an Applin is. There is a curious legend behind the small pokemon and while it's usually talking about the physical pokemon, he hopes a picture can suffice. He has to duck behind his easel just in case you happened to look up and saw his blush.

He's been trying to keep this painting hidden from you. You'll see it when it's done, he promised you that. But he needs to make sure it's perfect. Brassius has finally decided he's had enough of just being friends with you and hopes that this is enough to convey his feelings when words don't come as easily. If only he could get the details perfect.

"I'm surprised your painting hasn't caught on fire." He's snapped out of his concentration as he looks over at you, seeing you already giving him an amused look. "You were glaring pretty heavily," you explain, and he lets out an "ah" as he didn't realize that.

"I need to make this perfect," he responds and hears the hum that you give him. "Sorry if I'm distracting you."

"It's fine, Brass." He gives you a look at the nickname, but there is a small smile on his face too. "What are you working so hard on?"

"You'll see when it's finished." He can't help a chuckle as you make another attempt to find out what he's working on as he dips his brush into some more paint to work more on his painting. He hears the grumble you give, and another chuckle leaves his lips.

There's some more small talk exchanged as you both work on your own art pieces. But the longer Brassius stares at his painting, the more he sees everything wrong with it. Doubt begins to cross his mind as if he should give this to you. You don't deserve anything but the best. Maybe he should go out and catch an actual Applin for you at this point.

"Aw, what a cute little guy." Brassius jumps as he hears your voice behind him. He turns quickly and tries to position his body in front of the painting, but you already saw it.

"Didn't I say-"

"I got impatient." Brassius narrows his eyes at you cutting him off as well as sneaking a glance at his painting that was supposed to be a secret. "But it does look really cute. Almost like the real thing. Why an Applin?" You ask him and he grumbles a bit as he steps aside so you can see the painting again. There isn't a reason to hide it considering you already saw.

"I wanted to give it as a gift. But I can't get it right," he tells you with a frown as he looks at the painting, only seeing mistakes and flaws in his eyes. A sigh leaves your lips and he sees the tired smile you give him.

"Brassius, we both know where this line of thinking leads. The painting is fantastic. I can see it's an Applin, there lighting effect you have that really makes the pokemon shine. It's obvious you put so much effort into this," you state as you continue pointing out all the things in the painting that make it perfect. The mistakes he saw before dimming a bit as he takes in your encouragement.

"The painting is for you, so I'm glad you enjoy it," Brassius says as he glances to you to see your expression. His previous confidence over this idea coming back slowly. "I know it's not the actual thing, but there's a legend with Applins in Galar..." He trails off as he waits to see if you understand what he's trying to say. Judging by your expression, you do.

"Brassius, are you-"

"I treasure our friendship. But I would be honored if you'd accept my feelings for you. I understand if you don't, but you're more important to me than any art piece I could dream of," he confesses as he stares into your eyes, making sure you know how serious he is.

There are a few moments of pause as you process what he just admitted to you. He continues to give you the determined look, not wanting to lose hope until he heard you speak.

"I... I have feelings for you too," you say, and he feels his heart soar as he smiles at you. He doesn't quite know what to say or do now because none of it would do how he feels justice. So he just leans in and presses a kiss to your forehead.

[raw-law]

I forgot to explain when I woke up. It is quite personal, it's faintly based on my parents, the line about the color mostly had to do with my parents not actually knowing anything about me despite when I was 9 or so. I warn suicide for the next part

This is. Also mostly inspired by my thoughts on suicide. It's not as if I'm actually going to do it, but I catch myself thinking about what I would do if I did, where to hang myself, what things I would give my friends and what I would tell them ect. But I am, ultimately, too scared off death and the afterlife to do anything.

The part about hating myself is based on my dad, mostly. He's very vocal about what he thinks they should do Transgender people, which is sending them to mental hospitals and other things. And I think you get the point. I might try doing something similar again (heavy on might).

I feel like I should say thank you? I wasn't expecting compliments, nor do I know how to take them

-☾

L:

ahhh.. a lot of these were what i was thinking when reading the poem, i just didn't know if i'd be correct.

i can certainly understand all of those thoughts. i'm sorry you have to deal with them at all. but i am glad you were able to turn it into something like this instead of acting on any of them. and i'm honored that you were willing to share something so personal too. it really did make a nice poem.

i know you said "heavy on might" and everything, but i really do suggest writing more if the last one helped you. i know it at least helps me explain most of my emotions, and it could probably even give you some ideas for other non-poetry writings, like those characters you've shared. use it as like... brainstorming, maybe? if that makes sense.

either way, the more you write, the greater the possibility of making some really beautiful things. oh and, get used to compliments. i like art, i like analyzing art, and i'll be damned if i have to sit and witness an artist quit doing what they enjoy because they didn't get the analyses they deserved.

Light:

Oh, that's indeed interesting! And I can see it now...it wasn't quite what I had in mind, but now that I know, it makes a lot of sense.

First of all, thank you so much for sharing something so personal with both of us, and the rest who'll be seeing this. I want you to know that I really, really appreciate your trust in us. Thanks for that. It definitely isn't easy.

Secondly...I am very sorry that you had to go through that. No-one deserves something so terrible to happen to them. Just know there is absolutely nothing wrong with being trans, though some people might try to convince you otherwise. You are who you are, and other people don't get to have a say in that (unless what you're doing damages society, which it definitely does not in your case). Hang in there; I promise you'll find your people, people who truly love and support you no matter what, one day.

And you should keep writing! It really does help with coping with things in your life, and it feels very therapeutic to just get it all out on the page, doesn't it? It's a wonderful hobby to foster; it'll follow you a lifetime.

Anyways, you don't need to 'know' how to receive our compliments. Just know that we love your work. Happy writing, and have a great day!

[vendettavalor]

// Finally finished a trio of pieces I’ve been dying to share after like a week of working on it :}

[vendettamuses]

// Wow, congrats on Barbie for coming out! Piper and Holly are here to support her!

// Tester drawing on my new drawing tablet came out p good i think

[blindrapture]

"I, Luigi"

had a nightmare. had to wake up.

I dreamt that I wrote a short story that was actually really good (Luigi joins youtuber StephenPlays on a walk through the woods, I remember the line "He and his wife were joined by the local sheriff, as while this is a beautiful day for a walk they've had planned for months, this is still the south, and there are bear marines." like, just, bears, the animal. for some reason "bear marines" was the recognized term for them. this itself was the second section in the story, "written by Billy Everyblogger" my alter ego. the dream became about that walk) and had an idea for a novel (basically, "huh, when I write as Billy Everyblogger, it's not actually that bad, what if I wrote a whole novel?"). that's all well and good. but then it turned into a Demo for the new Animal Crossing game...

there was a sort of segue. I-- that is, Luigi-- started noticing pokemon on our walk. I started remembering opinions I've had about pokemon. something about "they're all really cute, there haven't been creepy ones since the early gens." I don't actually think this is an opinion of mine. but by the end of the walk, there were lots of pokemon and they just suddenly had always been there, as had animal crossing villagers joining us on the walk. there was mention of Mr. Resetti not being the same since his wife got that job....

now there was a new framing device, this was no longer an Everyblogger story but me, privately me, revisiting the Demo for the new Animal Crossing game, the Demo which came out a few years ago but no news for the final game had come at all. it was a demo that, frankly, promised an animal crossing game far more engaging than any of them actually were. I remember pressing the switch Home button at one point and seeing the Demo icon on my home menu, just to verify what I was playing really was still the same old demo, because I could swear there were new additions....

anyway, so, Mrs. Resetti wasn't around anymore because she was running a university in town, getting it set up for "next year" (the planned release date for the game). and I, Luigi, went over to that university. just had to check, was the in-canon Luigi explanation. the dream must go on, was the out-of-canon Me explanation. and this was a first-person kind of deal, walking through a forested town, with buildings just plopped there in the town-- like, y'know, animal crossing, just more forested!

on the walk into the university, I was also watching a developer talk, like, a public Nintendo video from the developer telling us about the final game. he had a northern british accent, like this was not being developed by nintendo themselves. he was bald. he promised that the game was coming, and I believed him, he was really into the vision for the game. "there's comedy in it as you can see but it's not a comedy. you'll still get the gossipy war drama [that you expect from every animal crossing game]." he was deadly serious about the word "war."

the format of the game was, yes, first-person. it involved spending 100 days in this village as new things happened to it, revolving around the university. it was a slow-burn drama. there were ominous Secrets, and every character in the village had an evolving schedule that incorporated side quests and interaction with the main narrative. this demo gave us Day 1. I got the impression the main plot had to do with strange experiments in the university, ominous and dreadful secret experiments, created forms of life. that was not really present in the demo, the demo just had little hints as to the main plot. I honestly do not know if the rest of the dream was the contents of that demo, but something tells me it was.

in the university, I found a book on a table. it had entries written by many villagers. I don't think I remember most of the entries, they were amusing enough. but I mostly remember the last entry. it was a comic. no color, very basic art. three panels. the dialogue was rooted around some really silly joke, the details escape me but it was something like...

husband [home from long day, his name is Dished]: hello, [wife]. I'm glad to see you.

wife [her name is Happy]: husband! I'm very Me to see you!

wife 2 [to husband]: I am very You to see you.

wife 2 was not visible in the scenario before the final panel. then she was just kinda there. a separate character entirely, does not look like wife 1, I'm not certain she was a wife, may have been a daughter, may have been someone entirely unrelated, but it felt.... well, it felt like a horror thing, a sudden strange character claiming to have always been there. I also knew that her presence was not strange to Wife, but distressing to Husband.

when I finished reading, I took another look at panel 1, and noticed that husband was also somewhat clown-ish in appearance, and I knew this detail was crucial to understanding the meaning of the comic. character 3 was really, secretly, saying that in reality she was a clown.

I looked up from the book. my wife was at the entrance of the room. this was a kitchen. she was surprised, though tired, to see me. I have been gone a long time. was I going to stay this time? was I going to do what was necessary? she really wanted me to. she went back upstairs. I started to follow her back upstairs, then I decided, strongly, that I would rather not. I started taking the trash out of the kitchen bin, holding the trash bag. someone else approached, this was her mother. she was shocked. "this is what you're doing? she wants you upstairs." "I know. I just. this university work is overwhelming. there's so much to do." "the university needs you, but you knew this was coming. you chose to do this, and you did this because it was hard. do not overlook your wife." I accepted her advice. I went upstairs, to our bedroom. my wife was in bed, waiting for me.

I got into bed with her. I decided to explain the truth. she deserved an explanation. I (as witness of the dream, not as Luigi Morphing Into Character Speaking To Wife) did not see it coming, despite how obvious it is now.

"I've been terrified. I was sure there was a clown waiting for me under our bed."

"that's strange... there hasn't been a clown under the bed..... not since last night..."

that scared me so much that I woke up within seconds. in the last few seconds of the dream, I remember filling with dread, then putting my foot on the floor outside the bed, and trying to figure out if the dark shapes on the floor were my imagination or.... the clown.

anyway yeah. then I woke up. buzzing with that dream in my head. so much so that I had to write it down.

I'm not even scared of clowns. but this was some deep so-much-context-that-my-mind-couldn't-focus-on-it concept that just happened to get the referent "clown." the only clownish thing in the design was a stencil around the lips. no color.

anyway.

I've talked it out. I'd like to go back to sleep.

[threshasketch]

Wow, so apparently today is the 8th anniversary of me starting this art blog. I started Threshasketch in the September of 2015, and my main blog the year before in June.

In that time, I've gone through drawing OCs, fanart for numerous fandoms, traditional style line work and pencil sketches, digital line work and coloring, painting photo-real style, and so, so many chibi art pieces. Art has been my rock through some really hard times in my life. Posting cute chibis to brighten somebody else's day helped brighten mine.

Since 2015, my country has gone through three different presidencies, the world has gone through (and is still quietly going through) a global pandemic, and I've gone through years of struggling. Most of that struggling has been in the past 5 years, but boy does 5 years sound like a lot of time to be struggling for basic living things like heat and food.

Things were really bad just a few years ago. At one point I only had electricity four hours per day, because I couldn't afford gas for the generator. I uploaded digital art because "scanning" (taking pics of on my phone) traditional line art was hard when the place I was living was so dark. Patreon and art commissions were the only reason I had money for food on many occasions.

I've had to move three different times in the past four years. I got rid of or lost a lot of my belongings to live in a small space. Had to deal with rats in my living space twice in as many years. Had to take my 23-year-old cat to the vet to pass peacefully AND help my parents take their little dog with heart failure to the vet to pass peacefully in the same year.

Did I mention I had major abdominal surgery this summer with months of recovery time? Yeah. That actually went really smoothly. I didn't realize how bad my health was getting for the past few years because it was a gradual problem, but I was exhausted all the time, unable to do much physical activity, and super anemic. Just passed the two month mark since surgery, and am feeling so much better it's shocking remembering how bad off I was before. Cripes, I should have done this years ago.

So why, if art has been a coping method for me, has this blog had barely any updates for years? Well, I overextended myself on art commissions, which made my art escapism into a pressure thing. It's nobody's fault but my own, but several of those commissions did not get finished, and that made art into a guilty thing, so I sort of...shut myself down on Tumblr, because drawing for fun seemed wrong when somebody was waiting on me to finish their art piece. So I stopped drawing at all for a long while. That helped nobody—it just made it so that I wasn't warmed up enough to draw the commissions, either.

I'm just now getting to where I'm financially able to reach out to the people who paid me for commissions and refund them. I've refunded several already. If you are one of my art commission customers, you'll be hearing from me, I promise. I haven't forgotten you, I have every commission I ever took in a list saved on my computer.

Speaking of financially able, I'm no longer supporting myself with art and Patreon alone. For most of The Pandemic Years I've been pouring all of my creative energy into becoming a full-time indie erotica author. I write my own stories, I paint my own covers, I do everything myself. It's the most fun job I've ever had, honestly, and it's paying my bills. ♥

I've managed to build it up into a monthly income somehow, and this winter is looking a lot less terrible than last winter. In general, my living situation is now stable, the roof doesn't leak, the lights all work, hell I even have a functioning shower and the ability to have running hot water.

Anyway, yeah. It's been a rough go of it, and this art blog has been around through it all. I got a new art tablet for my birthday, and drawing feels like being carefree again. Here's to many more years of art. ♥

[minervaamadon]

Vulnerability and Growth

Five months ago, I posted a comic about how I wanted to change. How I wanted to be braver, and interact with more people.

I failed. And I've put together tonight the reason why. (personal story and such under the cut)

Almost every time I tried to reach out to someone on here, I failed, retreated into my shell. People that seemed cool, seemed nice, seemed inviting- I told myself that what I was going to say wasn't going to contribute.

As Therian HRT blew up, I was awestruck by the art shown on display. So many different stories that tread different grounds, different artstyles that evoked their arts.

And I had a pencil, paper, and a phone camera. I felt like I had little to say, and that it wouldn't be worth the effort of "saying" so poorly. Of course, everyone's experience is unique, and meaningful, but would anyone hear? Was I vulnerable enough to say it? Was I vulnerable enough to say it badly? Would anyone hear it? Would anyone want to hear it?

And I've been ruminating for months. I know that to become good, you have to be bad. Perfection is the enemy of good.

But I've also realized, tonight, why exactly I struggle with art- why I struggle with many things- I so rarely trust myself.

I have the least faith in myself of anyone I know; I phrase almost everything as "I'll see what I can do", "I'll give it my best shot" when asked to do something, to the point where one of my first bosses called me out on it, and said to "just say you'll do it". But I couldn't comfortably do that- I didn't trust myself to follow through. I didn't think I could reliably succeed. There would always be a risk of factors out of my control, and so I could have failed the task, and failed the person I promised success to. What if the machine broke because someone left it set up wrong when they last used it? What if it turns out I'm not strong enough to keep holding it up? What if I'm not good enough?

Whether they were understanding, whether there was a reasonable reason or not, it didn't matter. I was so afraid of failure, of not having perfect control of a situation, that I would not commit to almost any task or fact that I could not personally without fail ensure the certainty of.

And this extended to information- if I knew it could change, I would answer with less than 100% confidence. If I were asked what color the sky was when sitting inside without windows, I'd say "Probably blue". Because maybe it's not. Maybe the weather outside is so stormy and cloudy that the lightest color is gray in the sky. Maybe the sun was setting at that point- I was never sure when the sunset was- and so it was more purple. I give the best answer I can with the info I have, but I do not do cash-back guarantees.

As I ramble here, I think "no one's really gonna want to hear this". As I debated where to put the "read more" earlier, I thought "well, I should put it early, so that I waste less people's time"; plan for the least reception. Which, if you're still reading, thank you- I'm getting to the point now.

The lack of trust in myself means that I rely on trust in everything else- verifying info with cross-checking, and testing when reasonable. And if I can't trust it, prepare for the worst, hope for the best.

Sometime within the last couple days I saw a post saying something along the lines of "if you're being mean to yourself to try and prevent people being mean to you, you still have someone being mean to you all the time."

And I saw myself in it. Saw every interaction I stopped before it started by intimidating myself away from the other person, and from public perception. Remembered that you have to be vulnerable to grow, that interactions happen from having a connection with someone or something. By preparing for the worst- a bad judgment by the outside world I trusted more than myself- I prevented the best- growing. A lobster has to molt and leave the protection of its carapace or suffocate.

Will this post, this grand sweeping gesture, ensure that I succeed? No. I've made plenty of first steps and stops.

But I can't start again without another first step.

And if this post doesn't help me, then maybe my experience will matter to someone else. That they might see themselves in me and decide to start moving.

[na-ta-sh-aa]

Aww how beautiful it is to read about Beer boy and Sugar again, I missed them so much🥹 this piece was really perfect, I loved how you highlighted how special and deep the love between Beer Boy and Sugar is, they are so precious!🥹🫶🏼

"So..." Jake replied, picking up his drink and chugging it before signaling to Penny for two more. When he turned back, he had a smug little smile on his face that let Bradley know he was about to get annoyed again. "I'm assuming by the way your wife looks and how fucking pussy whipped you are that she has good taste in lingerie?"

“Bradley sputtered, almost knocking his bottle off the high top. "Jesus fucking Christ, Hangman. What the hell kind of question is that?" He could feel heat rising in his cheeks at the memory of you prancing around the bedroom last weekend in a lacy tie dye bra and matching boy shorts. Everything you wore was sexy.”

This part was so funny, how both Jake and Bradley didn't seem to like the idea of ​​meeting up for a beer and how Jake immediately found a way to make conversation with Bradley. Not to mention Bradley's reaction, pure art!😂

“Bradley raked his fingers through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut against the mental image of you and Jessica in a cute little fitting room, laughing together. "God damn it, Hangman!"

I bet Bradley will be thinking about Sugar in lingerie until he sees her again!

“You and Jessica were crammed into a fitting room together, trying not to laugh at the enormous stacks of cute things to try on. Your pile was on the left side of the decorative bench, and hers was on the right. You knew that Jessica Reed happened to collect lingerie in every color imaginable, but she was on a quest to find some unique things to take on her honeymoon. And you were on a quest to wow your husband with something more than a bra and boy shorts for once.”

Ooh I missed Jessica and Sugar so much! I love that they went shopping together, I will never stop loving their friendship!

“Not that he complained. Not that he ever complained. Bradley went absolutely feral for you in your damn work clothes and loafers. He about lost his mind when you wore his ratty, old tie dye tee shirt to bed. He often sounded like he was going to need CPR when you put on his bathrobe and nothing else. It was hard to contain your smile when you just knew that something in this fitting room was going to blow his mind to the point that he would be rendered speechless.”

I bet Bradley will lose his mind over whatever Sugar buys, I love how they both are completely in love with each other!🥹

“Jessica whispered, "You'll look beautiful in anything, Advanced Calculus. I can promise you that." When you kind of shrugged in response, she said, "Do you want me to wait in line for my own fitting room so you can have more privacy?"

Jessica is so sweet🥹

"Let me guess... your wife sent you photos?" Jake asked, clearly amused.”

Bradley can't be subtle when it comes to Sugar. I love how Jake immediately understood what it was all about😂

“Jessica smiled. "Yes, I understand. And I hope you realize that you just described a man who is desperately in love with you, not just how you look. Sounds like the kind of man you should spoil a little bit." She tugged gently on the chemise and added, "This is a far cry from a tee shirt, but you won't know how you feel about it until you try it on."

"I'm obsessed," Jessica said, bouncing excitedly as she clapped her hands together. "Should I take one last round of photos for you to send to Bradley?"

Aww I love how Jessica is literally Sugar's Cheerleader, she was so sweet and supportive!

“It was a good thing Jake was staring at his own phone in amazement, because Bradley was pretty sure he was drooling and incapable of formulating a sentence. He had already written back to you, begging you to buy the pink thing. Telling you he needed it. Letting you know he wanted to peel is slowly off of your body in bed later. In fact, the last thing he sent was 'Buy everything in that whole fucking store, money is no object'. And he meant every word.”

Bradley's reactions are literally one better than the other, I love them! But most of all I love how much he loves Sugar and how he always shows it🥹

"Since when does your wife have tattoos?"

“Those words snapped Bradley out of his lust filled stupor, and his brown eyes bore into Jake's green ones. How did he know about your titty tattoos? When his gaze drifted back to his phone, he turned the screen toward Bradley with a grin. Apparently you had taken a photo of Jessica, in which your reflection was visible in the fitting room mirror. You were wearing a bra, and you were as covered up as you would be for a beach day, but Bradley loathed the idea of Jake having any sort of access to those tattoos.”

"Hey!" Jake complained as Bradley snatched the phone and deleted the photo. "What the fuck, Bradshaw? I wanted that picture of Jessica! You could have just cropped it."

Bradley and Jake together are so funny😂

"Hell yes," he murmured, closing the distance to your lips and kissing you hard. "Did you buy that pink thing? And the black one?"

“His hands wound around your waist possessively, and he got even more excited as you tucked the bags behind your back and whispered, "There's only one way to find out."

I loved reading this, it was so fun and sexy! I missed Beer Boy and Sugar and Jake and Jessica so much, it was so nice to read about them again! Like I said, Jessica and Sugar's friendship is something I've loved since they first met and helped each other out and I love being able to read and find out more about them. I also liked how Bradley always shows his love for Sugar in every possible way and I also liked how Sugar had the courage to try experimenting with new lingerie for Bradley. Special mention to Jake and Bradley, they never stop making me laugh the way they tease and make fun of each other. As usual the piece was spectacularly written, really beautiful to read, I loved it sooo much!✨💗💗💗

Sugar and Lace | Bradley Bradshaw x Reader

Summary: Bradley had a hot wife. He went wild for you in your work clothes and his worn out shirts. You didn't need any bells and whistles to look sexy, and you never would. But now that he knew what you looked like in a little lace, he needed to have that version of you, too.

Warnings: Fluff, adult language, drinking

Length: 3000 words

Pairing: Beer Boy and Sugar! Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader (former fuckboy college student Bradley)

This is a one-shot to accompany my fics Old Habits Die Hard and Right Girl, Wrong Time but it can be read on its own! Check out my masterlist

Bradley looked at Jake over his beer, and Jake looked right back at him. The Hard Deck was virtually empty this early on a Saturday in the middle of the blazing summer heatwave, leaving the two of them very much alone together with their drinks.

"So..." Bradley said, tracing a line through the condensation on his half empty bottle. It wasn't that he disliked Jake. Not really. But he didn't know how many times he could be coerced into hanging out with him for the sake of you having a 'girls day'. It wasn't like he could complain about work to the person who annoyed the shit out of him at work yesterday.

"So..." Jake replied, picking up his drink and chugging it before signaling to Penny for two more. When he turned back, he had a smug little smile on his face that let Bradley know he was about to get annoyed again. "I'm assuming by the way your wife looks and how fucking pussy whipped you are that she has good taste in lingerie?"

Bradley sputtered, almost knocking his bottle off the high top. "Jesus fucking Christ, Hangman. What the hell kind of question is that?" He could feel heat rising in his cheeks at the memory of you prancing around the bedroom last weekend in a lacy tie dye bra and matching boy shorts. Everything you wore was sexy.

"That's obviously what they are out shopping for," Jake drawled, handing the empties to Penny as she dropped off fresh beers. Bradley waved two fingers in a half-hearted salute and then glared at Jake as he added, "Jessica specifically asked your wife to go with her. She told me she's picking out some things for the honeymoon, and you and I both know what that means. They are trying on lingerie." His smirk was back. "Together."

Bradley swallowed hard, digging his fist into his thigh. His teeth were clenched as he said, "Stop picturing my wife in lingerie."

All he got was a jovial laugh in response. "Tell me right now to my face that you're not picturing both of them wearing something tight, cropped and lacy, and I'll stop."

Bradley raked his fingers through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut against the mental image of you and Jessica in a cute little fitting room, laughing together. "God damn it, Hangman!"

--------------------------------

You and Jessica were crammed into a fitting room together, trying not to laugh at the enormous stacks of cute things to try on. Your pile was on the left side of the decorative bench, and hers was on the right. You knew that Jessica Reed happened to collect lingerie in every color imaginable, but she was on a quest to find some unique things to take on her honeymoon. And you were on a quest to wow your husband with something more than a bra and boy shorts for once. 

Not that he complained. Not that he ever complained. Bradley went absolutely feral for you in your damn work clothes and loafers. He about lost his mind when you wore his ratty, old tie dye tee shirt to bed. He often sounded like he was going to need CPR when you put on his bathrobe and nothing else. It was hard to contain your smile when you just knew that something in this fitting room was going to blow his mind to the point that he would be rendered speechless.

"Try something on," Jessica suggested gently, and you took a step closer to your pile. "Then you'll get a better idea of what you like." 

There was red, green, black, white and pink fabric. There were nightgowns, thongs, bralettes and stockings. When you reached your hand out, you hesitated, confidence wavering. This seemed a lot more challenging than solving a linear algebra matrix.

Jessica whispered, "You'll look beautiful in anything, Advanced Calculus. I can promise you that." When you kind of shrugged in response, she said, "Do you want me to wait in line for my own fitting room so you can have more privacy?"

The two of you already agreed to help each other make selections, and the last thing you wanted was to keep opening the door so everyone else could see you wearing this stuff. "No. It's not that. I just... don't really own anything like this. I mean, I have a few things, but some of this is elaborate." You glanced at her over your shoulder and winced. "And this was supposed to be a shopping trip for you! For your honeymoon! Not for me."

She shushed you and then reached into your pile and pulled out a fairly innocuous looking nightie in a soft champagne color. "Start with this. Then you'll see how hot you look, and it'll be a gateway drug to you starting your own collection that will rival mine."

"I've seen your closet," you muttered, taking the hanger from her and holding the garment up in front of your body. It was pretty. The color even complimented your hair. It was a far cry from what you usually wore to bed, but you'd give it a shot.

When you started to undress, Jessica turned around and played with her phone, which you did appreciate. All of your bumps and lumps would be on display soon enough anyway, but at least you'd have a minute to straighten yourself out. The fabric was cool and slick against your skin, and you shivered as it settled high on your thighs. When you looked in the mirror and turned, you were pleasantly surprised with the result.

"It's not bad," you said, and she looked up and gasped, green eyes wide.

"It's perfect!"

"I wouldn't go that far," you muttered, smoothing your hands along your sides.

"Well, I would. And I'm sure Bradley would, too. Do you want me to take a picture on your phone?" she asked, and you nodded while she posed you with one hand on your hip. "Like I said, perfect," she muttered as she took the photo and then set your phone down again. "Try on something else."

"Okay," you whispered, reaching blindly into your pile and pulling out a black lace corset top.

Jessica jumped up and down and clapped her hands. "I love that one. I picked one up to try it on, too."

"I don't know about this," you said, holding it up in front of the nightie. "Not sure how Beer Boy is going to like it."

"You won't know until you try it on."

With those words of wisdom, you changed from the nightie to the corset, and your immediate thought was how cute this would look under your sweaters and tweed when you were at work. And it would feel amazing. It was snug and sexy, and somehow you felt like you could kick even more ass at work if you were wearing this thing.

"What the hell?" you whispered, and Jessica turned to look at you, clapping her hands once again. "I feel like I have super powers."

"Because you do! Look at you! Please let me take another picture of you to send to Bradley."

This time you posed yourself and turned so your tattoos were visible through the lace cutout on the side. Then you stood there and admired yourself before saying, "I'm definitely buying this. Catch me wearing it to work under my cardigans in the fall."

Jessica started digging into her own pile now as you changed from the corset into a bodysuit, but when she met your eyes in the mirror, she looked like she was going to freak out.

"What?" you asked. "The bodysuit looks that bad?"

She shook her head, and pressed her lips together before almost shouting, "When were you going to tell me you have a math tattoo?"

"Oh," you replied, not sure you'd ever heard her voice reach that octave before. "Euler's Identity? I've had it since I was nineteen."

"I love how you embrace your inner nerd," she said as if she was in awe of you, and you started laughing which made her laugh. "Now send those pictures to your husband and let that man worship you."

--------------------------------

Bradley had just buried his face in his hands while Jake laughed when his phone went off. You hadn't even bothered to inform him that your little 'girls day outing' was a quest to make sure Jake enjoyed his honeymoon with Jessica. Honestly, Bradley kind of hoped the other man was correct in his assessment that you'd be shopping for something for yourself, too. Not that you needed it. Holy shit, you still looked like the girl he fell in love with over a decade ago whenever you wore his old Grateful Dead shirt or his robe around the house.

But now he wanted something special, too. Why should Jake get to have all the fun when it came to having his partner all wrapped up in a pretty package that was specifically meant to be removed?

"Sugar," he grunted when he saw that you'd texted him. Jake was rambling about something across the table, but Bradley couldn't hear him. He could no longer hear anything. He couldn't process thoughts or form words. All he could do was stare at the two photos you'd sent to him. "Oh, fuck."

In the first one, you were wearing a shimmery light gold colored thing that looked soft. Like maybe almost as soft as your skin. His heart hammered up into his ears as he examined every inch of it on your curves. Your nipples were pebbled against the fabric, and he could practically feel them between his lips. When he swiped to look at the second one, he abruptly stood from his stool with his phone gripped tight in his hand, eyes bugging out.

"Let me guess... your wife sent you photos?" Jake asked, clearly amused.

Instead of verbally responding, Bradley made sure his phone was tipped away from Jake as he zoomed in for a closer look. Holy hell. Your tits were being pushed up in the sexiest black lace he had ever seen. It was sinful, and now he was imagining you wearing it under one of your tweed blazers while giving a lecture. He swallowed hard, realizing he could see the tiniest bit of your tattoos through the little cutout on the side, and he actually whimpered.

"Yeah... she definitely sent you photos," Jake murmured as his own phone chimed. "Oh, Jess just sent me five."

"How did you get five?" Bradley complained, swiping back and forth, desperately looking for more. "I only got two!" 

It was then that he noticed you texted him after you sent the pictures.

What do you think, Beer Boy?

Bradley laughed a bit maniacally. What did he think about the lingerie? Ha! He could barely think at all! He paced back and forth a bit, sweating as he wrote back.

You look fucking hot as hell, Sugar. If you don't bring that black top home, I think you'll break my heart.

Bradley cringed, because now Jake was the one who was whimpering. "They're sharing a fitting room," he whispered, and Bradley's eyes went wide with the realization that Jessica must have taken the photos for you. Then his eyes narrowed as he reached for Jake's phone.

"You better not be able to see Sugar in any of the pictures!"

-------------------------------

You and Jessica were wearing matching fluffy robes and sorting through everything you'd already tried on.

"You have to get that thing," you told her, pointing to the garters and stockings. "It fits you like a glove."

She nodded and added it to her 'yes' pile. "And you have to get the thong and bustier," she replied.

"I'm already buying four things," you reminded her. The bustier was nice, and your breasts looked good in it, but you didn't love the color very much. Besides, there was one last thing you hadn't tried on for fear of looking or feeling ridiculous, but there was a part of your brain that just knew your husband would love it.

"Missed one!" Jessica said, pulling on the bright pink fabric like she could read your mind. Always the best cheerleader, she held it up in front of your body and nodded. "It's bold, but I think you can pull it off."

You took it from her, but looked at yourself skeptically in the mirror. "I don't know... it's going to look bad. Like I'm trying too hard. I don't know why I even picked it up."

But you did know. Bradley was attracted to you in that dumb tie dye shirt like you were some sort of exotic bird whenever you put it on. All of the bright colors swirled into something that just lured him right to you. Part of it was nostalgia, sure, but you felt like there was something more as well.

"Actually, I do know why I picked it up," you told Jessica, holding the chemise closer to yourself. "Bradley really likes it when I wear his old shirt that I kind of held hostage for ten years. It's vibrant and bright, and I think this is the sort of thing he might enjoy?" You pursed your lips and sighed. "But, maybe I'm wrong, because he also just seems to like me how I am. No frills, you know? He's always been that way."

Jessica smiled. "Yes, I understand. And I hope you realize that you just described a man who is desperately in love with you, not just how you look. Sounds like the kind of man you should spoil a little bit." She tugged gently on the chemise and added, "This is a far cry from a tee shirt, but you won't know how you feel about it until you try it on."

"You're right."

Once you were out of the robe, you pulled the stretchy lace over your body, and gaped at the deep neckline as Jessica tied the satin ribbons around the back of your neck. You hadn't noticed before, but there were some yellow and orange threads woven in, making delicate swirls in the fabric. Almost like a different kind of tie dye. It actually looked stunning on you, and as you turned from side to side, you already knew you had to have it.

"I'm obsessed," Jessica said, bouncing excitedly as she clapped her hands together. "Should I take one last round of photos for you to send to Bradley?"

-------------------------------

Bradley was lightheaded. He sweat through his shirt, and he had his forehead cradled in his hand as he opened three photos of you wearing something so bright and pink and sexy, he wanted to lick it off of you. Everything was covered up, but barely. In the one shot, he could almost see your ass. In another, he could definitely see your pert nipples. In the other one, he could make out part of your titty tattoos.

It was a good thing Jake was staring at his own phone in amazement, because Bradley was pretty sure he was drooling and incapable of formulating a sentence. He had already written back to you, begging you to buy the pink thing. Telling you he needed it. Letting you know he wanted to peel is slowly off of your body in bed later. In fact, the last thing he sent was 'Buy everything in that whole fucking store, money is no object'. And he meant every word. 

Bradley had been crazy about you for so long, and most of the appeal came from how smart you are and the fact that you weren't fussy. You let him dote on you in your work outfits. You wore his clothing around the house. You didn't need all the bells and whistles to be sexy, and you never would.

But now that he knew exactly what you looked like in black satin and colorful lace, he needed to have that version of you, too. He needed it.

"Since when does your wife have tattoos?"

Those words snapped Bradley out of his lust filled stupor, and his brown eyes bore into Jake's green ones. How did he know about your titty tattoos? When his gaze drifted back to his phone, he turned the screen toward Bradley with a grin. Apparently you had taken a photo of Jessica, in which your reflection was visible in the fitting room mirror. You were wearing a bra, and you were as covered up as you would be for a beach day, but Bradley loathed the idea of Jake having any sort of access to those tattoos.

"Hey!" Jake complained as Bradley snatched the phone and deleted the photo. "What the fuck, Bradshaw? I wanted that picture of Jessica! You could have just cropped it."

"Hey, boys!"

Bradley turned in time to toss Jake's phone aside as Jessica headed through the nearly empty bar with you following behind her. There were two enormous shopping bags in your hands, and you had a smile on your face as you asked, "Ready to go home, Beer Boy?"

"Hell yes," he murmured, closing the distance to your lips and kissing you hard. "Did you buy that pink thing? And the black one?"

His hands wound around your waist possessively, and he got even more excited as you tucked the bags behind your back and whispered, "There's only one way to find out."

Bradley started guiding you to the door. "Yeah. We're going home. Right now." He ran his nose along your cheek and gave you one more sweet kiss before shouting over his shoulder, "Thanks for the beers, Bagman. Oh, and Jessica, I need you to crop your photos better next time you take my wife shopping."

---------------------------

I love Beer Boy for making Sugar feel so good about herself every day. She's a badass, and he knows it. I wrote this as a little wedding treat for @je-suis-prest-rachel Congratulations, Rachel! And thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls

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