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#at least I'm drawing and using my sketchbook
lotusarchon · 2 days
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scary? my god, you're divine (mk x reader)
content warnings: gender neutral reader, second pov (you/your), short headcanons, reader's appearances is vague but eldritch abomination looking so go wild, fluff, romance
author notes: i miss my old acc :((
𐙚 True love is when your boyfriend looks at you with hearts in his eyes and believes you're the most beautiful being in existence. No, it doesn't matter if you have three heads or multiple arms, or a singular eye that pierces your soul, or a form that'll make any normal mortal cry. You're beautiful as you are, and he loves you so, so much.
𐙚 Whatever circumstances you may have met, MK loves you. Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder, and by the gods you're the most stunning being he's ever had the blessing of laying his eyes upon. 
𐙚 If there's one person who will ever make you feel the most loved, it's MK. His friends might be frightened of you (and for good reason, no offense), but to him; he doesn't care. You're stunning and so sweet, perfect in every way. Was there anything about you that would be flawed in his eyes? Ha! Never.
𐙚 Even if you're uncomfortable and believe you're too scary, MK's always there to assure you you're wrong, that you're beautiful and amazing and oh, how he loves you. 
𐙚 He literally has an entire sketchbook made entirely of drawings of you and him together. MK will pull up at your house (because you may not be able to stay at his apartment) and spend at least the entire day showing you the special drawings of you and him together going on walks or adventures, picking flowers, etc. There's even one of you together with him and Pigsy. He'll try to convince you to get a picture later on but for now a drawing will do.
𐙚 Bro does not give a FUCK about what anyone thinks about you. Pigsy and co have to learn to get used to you (and they do, don't fret) because he has 0 intention of pulling out anytime soon.
𐙚 Have I mentioned how much he adores you? Okay, here's an extra note: MK LOVES YOU!! And he will die for you, I said what I said.
𐙚 Pulling up to the most loyal boyfriend competition and who's already there? That's right, MK the Monkie Kid y'all. 
What do you mean I'm bias about MK shut up 🙄
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@lotusarchon , 21.09.2024, all rights reserved. do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission. comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated!
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thetriangletattoo · 5 months
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asagisnobody · 9 months
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Penelope during her marriage.
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nyhne · 1 month
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Quick Roshon sketch :x
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ricoka · 9 months
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I'm so easily influenced by art YouTube and I hate that
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8n53 · 10 months
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this cheap android tablet is kind of kicking my expensive wacom tablet's ass 😟
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definitely-hulu · 6 months
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So ngl I've been procrastinating a lot and I've seen a bunch of those likes motivation posts and stuff and even though my blog ain't that popular, thought I'd try. Pls help me @totally-peacock-i-swear
At 25 notes, I'll start completing my math homework the day it's assigned (we get one everyday but they're due on Wednesdays)
At 50 notes, I'll draw in my sketchbook at least once a week (rn it's like once a month)
At 100 notes, I'll start working with my watercolor pencils and charcoal pencils (mostly supplies I hardly use, especially paints)
At 200 notes, I'll experiment with different art styles (realism, minimal, etc)
At 500 notes, I'll clean my room.
At 1,000 notes, I'll finish reading The Blood of Olympus by Rick Riordan (I abandoned it like 4-5 years ago)
At 1,500 notes, I'll CLEAN my room (and maybe closet)
At 2,000 notes, I'll write to chapter 10 in my book (25 if this gets over 25,000 (get it, 25k for chapter 25))
At 5,000 notes, I'll read 10 pages+ of whatever book I'm reading before going to bed (instead of watching yt, idk why this isn't in here sooner but oh well)
At 10,000 notes, I'll clean my OLD room!! (Basically I just took what I wanted for my new room and left the other one as a wasteland)
At 15,000 notes, I'll start a YouTube channel for all the videos I've wanted to do (mostly gameplay or bloxburg building, even featuring my voice, idk I've just been thinking it'd be cool to do that, recently)
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dcxdpdabbles · 3 months
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Fingers crossed for an update of Passion for Fashion 💖❓ sorry for the bother but I've just become addicted to reading that Au lololol I've read it over and over again for like a hundred times now
"Give me a spin," Dan demands, keeping a critical eye on the suit pants as the man did as he was told. He clicks his tongue in sharp disapproval before falling into a crouch and fidgeting with the hem.
Danny thinks the suit came out looking fantastic for a stupid theme like question marks. The client was also a rather exciting guy, randomly spewing riddles at them as Dan worked on his outfit and Danny cooked them lunch.
Edward Nigma had shown up on their doorstep with a cheerful greeting at five a.m. Danny wanted to tell Edward that anything before nine a.m. should be illegal, but Dan was happy to welcome him in.
Dan had forgotten to sleep again and didn't realize the early morning start. Danny was getting rather tired of the ghost rushing about with an insane amount of energy, only to crash when his human body could no longer sustain his habits.
After letting Edward get comfortable on the half-buried couch of clothing, Danny wandered back upstairs to his bedroom. It was the only room—besides the bathroom—where there wasn't a bunch of fabric and sewing instruments thrown about. He crashed on his bed and didn't wake up until two more hours later.
By that point, when he had done his morning routine and wandered downstairs, he found Edward sitting crosslegged in a ring of paper. The paper had multiple sketched designs of various suits.
A little to his right was Dan, whose hand was nothing but a blur as it raced across his sketchbook. Danny could make out that he stopped, ever so often, to switch out the coloring pencils for shades of green and purple, but doing it at such a speed that he doubted regular humans would be able to tell.
It meant his drawings were done at an insanely fast pace. He wondered if his Obsession made it possible not to burn a hole through the paper. Was there a way to test that? Ghosts did have an effect on their environments just as the environments had an effect on their forming.
Edward was comparing two papers in his hands with a critical eye. He looked up as Danny stumbled down the stairs- he had never been a morning person. He held up the designs for Danny to see, asking, " What is the most dangerous thing to give a man in a crowd?"
Half asleep, Danny didn't miss a beat in muttering, "Power."
Edward seemed pleased by his response, putting the left one back into the ring of papers before shifting around to face a new side of the ring. There, he ran his fingers over the designs, muttering, "It needs to be powerful."
Right.
"I'm making breakfast if anyone-"
"No need. Edward ordered us some. Your burrito is over there somewhere," Dan cut him off, turning to the next page without lifting his head. "It's part of my commission."
"Free food?"
"For a week"
"Nice"
Edward glances at them. "I can keep feeding you if you answer more riddles."
Danny takes a big bite out of his bean burrito, savoring the explosion of flavor that dances over before nodding his head. "I promise I'll try to answer as many as I can but I'm not the best at them."
The man frowns, turning away back to this pile of papers. "If you're not going to play my game, you don't need to waste the air you breathe in."
Both Fentons freeze at that, snapping their heads in Edward's direction. Now, correct him if he is wrong, but that sounded a whole lot like a threat to Danny. He made eye contact with Dan, tracing the youthful human face that held the same bloodlust as his adult form.
Was Edward aware he had just issued a Ghost Challenge to the one Fenotn, the least human, thus the one with the least humanity of them all, madness cured or not? Is he aware that Dan was putting down his drawings, his teeth more sharp, and his hands curled into claws?
Danny sprung to his feet, mouth open in a shout just as Dan was about to leap-
Ding Dong.
The front doorbell cuts through the air like a knife through hot butter. Dan's ghost instincts all but vanish as his eyes light up in joy. He goes through with his leap, but it's only to go over Edward's form and roll to a stop on the other side, heading towards the door. "My second client!"
Danny breathes a sigh of relief, flopping back down in his seat. He ignores Edward, savoring his food with a deep hunger. Clockwork had sent them over with enough funds to survive, and there were no bills they needed to cover (if there were, no one had bothered to come collect from the Fentons or cut their services), but that was a limit to how loose they could be with their spending.
Danny thought eating out was a luxury he would miss out on until he returned home. Of course, he got a coffee or something occasionally, but that made this free food all the more tasty.
"I was thinking something more eco-friendly," The redhead woman from the runway told Dan as she scanned the room with a hint of distaste. "Are you aware of the damage to the Earth these fabric stores cause?"
Dan eyed her with equal distance. "Are you aware of how little I care about that?"
Edward snaps his head up with a gasp. "Did he really say that to Ivy?"
"I thought her name was Pamela," Danny asks, which causes the green woman to snap a glare at him. He shrugs helplessly at her rage, reminded of Sam in a heartbreaking moment. "Miss, look around you. Do you honestly think ants like us have any say with the fabric companies?"
"You could stop giving them business!" She hisses as Dan rolls his eyes.
"We bought almost everything from a second-hand store or a discount store. The poor don't get to make eco-friendly decisions. They make ones that help them stay off the streets." Danny explains gently, making sure his voice is not dismissive or condescending. He thinks back to nights when he had to talk Sam down from doing something crazy- like setting a building on fire for them and cutting down the oldest trees in Amity Park. "You have the means to make a change."
Pamela raises a brow. "I do make a change. Permanently."
"Oh, that's great. How many trees have you replanted?" Danny asks, smiling widely. It's odd how she reacts to his question, body still going in surprise.
"What?"
"I mean, I figured you would be focusing on healing the earth instead of causing it more scars by engaging in human wars, right?" Danny tilts his head, aware of Edward's flabbergasted look and Dan's apparent boredom with the conversation. "You're different from the big corporations who don't care who or what they hurt to reach their end goal, right? "
Pamela opens and closes her mouth before she snaps her back straight. "That wouldn't save the Earth! Humans are a plague!"
"Humans can also be a cure if the right ones get started." Danny counters quickly. "I mean, what have you done for the rivers around Gotham? The water that flows through there affects the plant life just as much. Also, plants and green help lower depression, and Gotham needs help. Plant some pretty flowers and gardens, and watch the neighborhoods flock to them. If you can convince the people to love the plants as much as you do, they will join you in keeping them safe."
Pamela's eyes narrow. "Don't you dare lecture me about how to save the Earth."
Danny shrugs, stepping away from her. A sudden strong perfume fills the air, causing his nose to wrinkle. It smells like his grandmother's house and is not welcoming. "Wasn't a lecture, but if you take it as such, there is no point in talking about it anymore."
"You're going to die for me," she suddenly says, popping out her hip and smirking at him.
"That's nothing special, Danny would die for a pizza." Dan cuts in
"I would die for an extra cheese pizza." Danny corrects, pointing his finger at his counterpart. "You would die for less."
"Oh, to be dead. In the arms of the most handsome EverBurning to ever live." Dan sighs dramatically, leaning into three pieces of cloth behind him, one hand on his forehead.
Danny threw his hands in the air. He's sick and tired of hearing about the ghost they knew for only ten minutes. "Killer Croc is never going to give you a chance, Dan. Move on!"
"We could have been forever if it weren't for my age!" Dan hisses right back, "You wouldn't understand! It's not like you or Samantha turned five!"
"Who's fault do you think that was? " Danny yells back, stepping around the wide-eyed Edward to snare into Dan's face. Pamela has taken three steps back, looking confused more than anything, mouthing Killer's name with clear disbelief.
"I wasn't the one that messed up the timeline!" Dan hisses, switching over to Spanish. Sometimes, the fake twins found themselves doing that whenever they got too emotional.
"You destroyed the world!"
"As it was foretold!"
"What does that even mean!?"
Ding Dong.
Once again, the doorbell cuts through the tension, making Danny huff. He pushes past Dan, who punches him in the arm but doesn't stop him from throwing the door open. Outside stands Tim Drake, with a bouquet of flowers and a nervous smile.
"I'm here for the suit," Tim says, holding out the flowers. "I know you said I didn't have to pay you, but I thought it was rude to not offer anything-"
"Buy me pizza." Danny cuts him off with dead-set eyes. "Double crust."
Tim startles. "Oh. Sure?"
Danny can feel his face stretch out into a grin. It lights up his whole face—Sam and Tucker had told him many times before—and he just knows it makes him appear lighter and friendlier. Tim's face goes very red as Danny takes his flowers. "It's a date. Come on in. Dan can get your measurements for the resize, and I can get ready in the meantime."
"Okay." Tim follows after him in a daze, stumbling over the fabric rolls Dan had stacked against the wall. He tries to avoid tipping but tangles himself in the string of cloth examples, still strung up everywhere. Danny quickly reaches out to steady him with a laugh.
"Yeah, this place is a bit of a mess," he tells the other. "It's slightly better today since Dan has some guests."
He leads Tim back into the living room, surprised to find that the awful smell has disappeared, Edward is currently being measured by Dan in his underwear, and Pamela is flipping through Dan's designs with a thought frown.
Huh, maybe Dan managed to calm her down. How? He's unsure, but that ghost always seemed to have the oddest people skills.
Tim gulps loudly when he finally spots everyone. "These are his guests?!"
"It's one of the Waynes." Edward cheers, arms held out to his sides as Dan places the measuring tap from his armpit to his waist. "Tim Drake, right? I had you in one of my riddles three months ago!"
"That's funny. I induced his father with pheromones around the same time." Pamela speaks up, giving Tim a friendly smile. It's the most welcoming expression she's worn since she got here.
Also ew, why would she tell someone she hooked up with their dad to their face like that?
Tim pales dramatically, reaching out to clutch Danny's arm. He pats it gently, hoping to comfort him from such a bizarre comment. "Dan, when you finish with Edward, can you message Tim for his adjustments. We're going on a date."
Dan glances over at him. "Whore"
"Just because I've gone on dates while Killer didn't even give you the time of day doesn't mean you can call me names, Dan."
"Whore but affectionately," Dan says after a long pause, and Danny nods.
"That's better." He pats Tim again on the shoulder- aware of his strange fidgeting with a ring on his finger that imitates a strange faint beeping. "I'll go upstairs to get ready. Who knows, maybe we'll find Batman."
Edward and Pamela laugh as if Danny said a funny joke and Tim's face aging a few more nervous lines. "Maybe"
He leaves Tim to take a seat next to Pamela. She leans over to show Dan's designs for her Leaf theme act and asks for his opinion. Tim fidgets even more with his ring as he answers her, voice shaky and cracking.
She seems highly amused.
His pale face stands out among the sea of handing red glimmering fabric around his head, and Danny is startled for a second by the idea that he is pretending to be scared, much like an actor before a red stage curtains.
It takes a particular skill to pull off an act that good. Almost an inhuman amount. One could even claim it was.... Bat-man-like.
I have a lead, Danny thinks with glee as he quickly climbs the stairs. He is careful not to step on bundles of yarn that Dan has stacked there. I finally have a lead!
He's going to charm the pants off of Tim to get him to tell him everything about Batman.
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elmushterri · 3 months
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I filled an entire page of my sketchbook with Nori!
I love them sm!!! This has to be one of my favorite of your rewrites, I seriously did not think I could actually care abt PJ Masks past the age of 6 but now I'm obsessed 😭
On another note, just a random thing I'm curious about, before breaking off from GunnTech, did the main three basically live at the facility since they were initiated? I guess they do from what I’ve seen, but I was just wondering if they ever had to go to like. School or something, when they're not training. And if they ever got to see their family again (though I doubt both the kids and their family would want to lol)
And one more thing, totally important and necessary to ask, how does Nori acquire the kids? (..that doesnt sound right)
Like does he break in to the facility from time to time or did they just bring them with him when they left GunnTech or does he take them in when he finds them just out and about??
NORI… OUR FAVOURITE PROBLEM! The way you draw eyes scratches my brain /positive.
I think the idea is that everyone does live at GunnTech, they have rooms and go to school. GunnTech also has a prison somewhere (like, sci fi, clean, sterile white prison, a glass front-wall for cells instead of bars, and that’s where everyone gets put in Season 4. But, before that, when the main three villains (or at least, just Luna and Nori) escaped, it wasn’t totally locked down so they had to walk out suspiciously/tell the security guards reasons (you need to give reasons when leaving GunnTech so, “I’m hanging out with a friend” comes with ‘who is the friend + give us contact details’) and then probably remove a tracker (unsure as to whether the wristbands are the trackers or the trackers are put into their chest implants), and try to avoid getting caught for the rest of the time (until season 3-4 ofc). The main story probably begins with the three MCs trying to find them and bring them back. Romeo’s wanted cause he stole tech, though, he’s not a mutant.
Nori risks his life basically (not literally but he risks huge punishment) by constantly breaking into the facility to get out new kids. Kids who haven’t yet been mutated all have one room (several large rooms for many kids’ bunk beds basically, not literally one big room 😭) and he goes in and saves one or two each time. Some kids don’t *want* to come with him, thinking this is a cool superhero opportunity. He has an easier time helping kids who are scared and having second thoughts. He’s very gentle.
Also reminder that Nori had their finger prints burned off yipeeee. He’s not letting that happen to the others. (It doesn’t happen to every kid, but GunnTech probably has categories (like, heroes: animals, space, spies, drivers, healers?) and if you’re in the (name is a work in progress) Spies Category (stealth category?) like Nori, you get your finger prints burned off.
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Daisy is canonically one of the only two Ninjalino names we know! I might make her into a small side character so that art isn’t 100% solid but eh!
Also he can’t really just “take them back to their parents”. If you’re a child at GunnTech, your parents either gave you away for money or you’re an orphan.
Nori’s usually a sassy ‘problem’ but they have their really serious and gentle moments.
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meandtheyeehaws · 7 months
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Do you like traditional art? I don't mean like, looking at it, I mean drawing on paper etc. (I know you're a digital artist, I'm just curious)
oooh i love traditional, tho the only traditional art i do is pencil drawings. way back when i didnt have a proper laptop i could take to school w me yet i used to demolish a ton of sketchbooks all the time💀 nowadays i mostly do paper doodles again when i work a school break-job but i still love it i can just get out so many ideas in so much shorter time
this is a perfect moment to show some of those off! get ready for a doodle dump
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ok heres some alternate forms of the sins! modern!human ozzie and more medieval timey mammon and bee (those are for a comic im currently working on, more old timey ozzies form isnt quite finished yet I CANT DECIDE ON HIS HAIRSTYLE) and an angel form for oz cuz the sins being fallen angels hc is my absolute fav
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heres some more stuff of my impsona and @crucian-tador 's oc
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and last but not least WOMEN
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beybuniki · 18 days
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my meeting got cancelled last minute, so i decided to draw because it's still early but i closed csp immediately and opted for my sketchbook instead and yeah idk why i've been neglecting my analogue sketches when those are so so fun! with each doodle i'm thinking about how i should make time to redo and color it digitally so i can post it but tbh idk why i feel this pressure to do that? i guess switching to digital does affect you in the sense that analogue sketches won't feel like finished pieces anymore and there's this artsy jiminy cricket on your shoulder that tells you that you have to do it digitally aka "properly" <- idk why i'm saying all of this
my point is i think i should recalibrate my digital vs. analogous art balance, i used to predominantly sketch in my sketchbook and do occasional digital fan art but atp it's mostly digital and i feel like that might also be a reason for why i feel a bit drained artistically, those are just more tedious. i DO love digital art because it enables me to color and create a sense of childhood nostalgia that i don't rlly achieve with my pencil sketches, but idk i feel like sketchbooks are becoming a lost art! at least in my workspace lol
anway here are some 7am sketches that i wanted to get out before starting my day
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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Chapter 8: Jealousy Doesn't Look Good On Anybody Except...
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Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter eight of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 4.1K
Warnings: References to sex, Cursing (a few times), Drinking, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC,
Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
The song they dance to is "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" by Russ Columbo and this should take you to the song. It's the song I named the series for, because I believe it encompasses how both the reader feels, but also how Soldier Boy will feel in a few chapters. I also believe that the song House of Memories by Panic at the Disco, fits the more modern parts of the series.
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
********************
Philadelphia 1938
The lights twinkled along the ceiling of the dance hall as the gentle swell of jazz floated through the air. Couples swayed on the dance floor clinging to one another as the soft tones of the music soothed the dull throb of the whispers of rising tension overseas. It was a Saturday night, and you and a few of your friends from the Dawson School for Girls had slipped away to spend the evening twirling in the arms of whomever caught your fancy.
Well, at least that's what your friends wanted to do. There was only one particular man who'd caught your fancy, but he was nowhere to be seen.
The Dawson School for Girls was the answer to your mother's prayers, a boarding school in Boston, far away from Ben's "corruptive influence" as she put it. Ben was currently at boarding school number ten in Upstate New York. The last time you’d seen him was when you were on break and Ben had just left boarding school number nine for fighting with other students, but he wouldn't say what for. You’d sent him a few letters to tell him how bored you were including a few sketches and watercolor paintings, with minimal response, but it was like him not to write back.
You hadn't mentioned that Howard Stine had been coming on the weekends to take you out. Your mother was pleased with him, he checked all the boxes: wealthy, not Ben, educated, not Ben, from a nice family, not Ben, and of course most importantly, not Ben.
She was practically making wedding invitations and choosing the names of your children after only three months. However, it was nice to see her happy for a change, kept her from sniping at your figure now that someone was interested. Well, not sniping that much.
Howard was… nice, but he was one of the most boring people you'd ever met and he never understood why you always carried a sketchbook with you. When he'd taken you to Franklin Park one weekend, you stopped along the pond to sketch some of the ducks that were waddling on the bank, but Howard told you he didn’t have time to wait for you to draw them. Instead of telling him that he could just leave, you shut the sketchpad and continued to walk with him and quickly learned that it was better to leave your sketchpad at the dorm whenever he was in town. You also found yourself talking less and less, allowing him to fill the silence with his talk of the stock market crash and how the United States economy recovered due to the efforts of President FDR.
You hated that. You didn't recognize yourself when you were with him. You didn't feel like you.
And every time he was here all you could do was compare him to Ben. Ben would never tell you to stop drawing, yes he would tease you about it, but he always sat next to you while you were sketching, watching you work. You never understood that. Ben was so impatient with everyone else, but he was willing to sit with you for any inordinate amount of time if you were drawing while making you laugh the whole time.
I miss him so much.
"Can I get you a drink?" Howard puts his hand on the small of your back, leaning in to whisper in your ear. You try not to flinch at his touch. He had already been in town, walking you home from a dinner that was dominated by awkward silence and the clicking of utensils on plates when you'd run into your friends just as he was walking you back to the dorm. They had rounded the corner giggling and begging you to come with them. Despite your insistences for him to stay in and relax for the night at his hotel, he refused.
It meant that now you were stuck with him while all your friends got to twirl around with men that made them warm and giddy. Howard made you feel like you'd swallowed a lemon.
"I'm fine, but thank you." You force a smile.
Howard shrugs, before he walks away towards the crowded bar on the other side of the room and blessedly far away from you.
Your thoughts drifted to Ben. You missed your friend more than words could comprehend. Not just because you were far from your family in another city, but because it felt like you were missing apart of yourself when he wasn't there. You briefly wonder if he felt the same way when he wasn't with you.
Probably not.
You turn away from Howard's retreating figure, to watch the couples on the dance floor. You sway to the music, holding your arms around yourself and feeling your dark green dress swish around your ankles, one that you'd picked out yourself, not a monstrosity of pink tulle, but something that you believed accentuated the natural curves of your body that your mother used other dresses to hide. Your mouth turns down into a frown remembering how Howard had reacted to seeing you in it, when he tried to give you his jacket to cover up, but you refused.
You had wanted him to be stunned by how you looked in it, or at least, wanted someone to be. The same someone that was miles away and probably tickling the skirt of someone who caught his fancy.
"One of the most attractive men I've ever seen in my life is at the bar." Your friend Pearl stated looking behind you with wide eyes.
I've got you beat. You think to yourself to a sigh, wishing, again, that you were here with Ben instead of Howard.
"Very funny." You roll your eyes, thinking that she’s making fun of where Howard is sitting probably flagging down the bartender with both hands to catch his attention.
"I'm not talking about Howard. This guy is seriously a looker. And he's staring at you." Pearl says again.
"Sure." You continue to watch an elderly couple sway back and forth to the smooth jazz that ebbs from the band on stage.
Must be nice to be with someone for that long.
You watch how effortlessly the couple moves as one, how the man stares down at the woman with more love than you can comprehend. It makes your heart sink in your chest.
The way things were panning out, you were going to end up with Howard and you couldn't imagine looking at anyone like that other than Ben.
"You're about to see, because he's coming this way." Pearl takes a step back from you as if anticipating the stranger interrupting your conversation.
"He's not-" You begin to say, but you feel someone place their hand on the small of your back, turning you towards them.
"Fancy meeting you here." Ben smiles down at you, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.
"Ben!" Your heart soars when you recognize your friend and you can't help but hug him so tight he laughs, the movement of his chuckle makes you feel alive for the first time in weeks. The sharp smell of whiskey and the familiar spicy scent of his cologne greets you.
"Guess you missed me." The rumble of his voice vibrates where your cheek rests against his chest.
"I did." You pull away from him reluctantly. "What are you doing here?" You can't help but smile at him, probably wider than what was attractive.
"Thought I'd stop by and visit on my way back to Philadelphia. Saw you walk into this place. " Ben shrugs. "What are you doing out so late?"
"Looking for trouble." You smirk.
"You found him sweetheart." Ben leans down towards you making your throat get unusually tight.
"Hi." Pearl says interrupting the conversation.
 Ben turns his smug smile on her. "Hi."
"I'm Pearl." She looks from you to Ben as if trying to decide that it's okay for her to introduce yourself.
"Benjamin." You watch him slip into the cool and smooth Ben, the one that charmed whomever caught his eye.
You can't help but feel a prick of jealousy against your skin. It was familiar, but every time it happened, it didn't make any of this easier. You knew that you shouldn't be jealous, you didn't have a claim on him, you were friends, just friends, only friends, best friends…
And now you were with Howard.
You let out a soft sigh watching the way that Pearl looks up at Ben and the way he leans towards her with the confident smirk you love so much on his face.
"Would you like to dance Benjamin?" She asks.
"I would." Ben's smirk turns into a smile.
Pearl steps forward to reach for his hand, expecting him to take it, but he doesnt.
"Come on sweetheart." Ben reaches out and takes your hand, twirling you ahead of him onto the dance floor.
"Ben-" You giggle, head spinning with the movement, but when he twirls you back into his chest, you feel your breath catch. This wasn't the first time you'd been pressed up against him and it wasn't the first time you recognized how perfectly you fit together. Your soft curves molding against the hardness of his muscles as you sway back and forth to the music. When you were pressed up against him, you didn't feel like you were too big, you felt perfect, because of the way you fit against him.
"You know I am here with someone-" You say, before you get too wrapped up in how good it feels to be with him.
"Yes. Howard Stine. Though I do believe you said he stepped on your toes." Ben smiles at you, eyes twinkling in the light.
"That was four years ago, and he's… sweet?"
"Hmph." Ben rolls his eyes. "You can't even say it with a straight face sweetheart."
"I have never said anything bad about your companions."
"Missy-"
"Besides her." You frown.
He laughs at your reaction, the hand clutched in your right seems to warm with his smile. "You've never said anything about them period."
Because I hate thinking about how many of them there have been. Because I hate that you don't see me as someone who could be with you.
"I try not to dwell on your numerous escapades."
"You sound a little jealous doll." He smirks at you.
"What was that you were saying about Howard again?" You tease, holding on to his shoulders as you sway back and forth to the music.
"Can't be jealous of someone I've seen get chased by a duck." Ben's eyes trace your body for a moment. Your cheeks blush under his gaze. "You look nice. Not one of your mom's I'm guessing?"
"What makes you say that?"
"You don't look like a cupcake." He spins you away one more time before bringing you back into his chest.
"No. I think she'd probably have an aneurysm if she saw me wearing this. Howard also thought it was a bit much-"
Ben's hand tightens on your waist. "What?"
You shrug, leveling your eyes on his chest to distract yourself from his hand placement. "He tried to get me to wear his coat."
"He what?"
You shake your head to dissipate the self-doubt and body-shaming conversation that was about to unfold in your head.
"It's nothing." You raise your gaze back to his, but you're surprised to see the anger that burns behind his green eyes.
"It's not nothing. He had no right to-"
"Ben." You soothe, rubbing your thumb over his shoulder to comfort him.
The song shifts to something softer, forlorn, a song that reminded you of the heartache you felt with Ben, but also a melody that eases your soul somehow.
"I don't understand why you're with him." Ben sighs, but you can still feel the tension in his shoulders beneath your hand.
"My mother is happy-"
"But you're not." The look in his eyes is unfamiliar, almost earnest, as if he's trying to get you to understand something that he can't say.
"Ben." You breathe.
"Fine. I don't want you to think about him when we're dancing to our song anyway." The look in his eyes shifts back to the playful green they'd been before.
"Our song?" The words make your heart skip a beat and you can't help but smile at him.
You couldn't remember the last time you'd smiled this much. Probably the last time I saw him.
"Yes." Ben dips you back, before bringing you up against him, the playful look in his eyes becoming softer as you come back.
You know that your own gaze is filled with love and you remember watching the elderly couple. The way they looked at one another warming your heart as you gaze up at Ben. The three little words tiptoe against your tongue, the three little words that you'd been trying to say forever, but you can't. You don't want to lose him, don't want to live in a world without him, because you know that it won't be worth living.
So instead you lean forward and lay your head against his chest, in the space between his neck and shoulder as the song continues. You think that you feel Ben's arms tighten around you, pulling you further into his embrace, but you chock that up to wishful thinking.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You hear someone yell, and all of a sudden someone's hand is on your wrist jerking you away from Ben.
What?
Howard is standing there his chest pushed against Ben’s, trying to look intimidating, but Howard's inability to reach Ben's shoulders made it difficult for him.
You rub your fingers over your wrist, where Howard’s bright red handprint stands out against your skin.
Ben’s eyes shift to notice your ministrations, darkening with the force of his anger at the thought that Howard hurt you.
“I think I was dancing with my girl.” Ben’s eyes narrow, skating back to Howard.
Your heart skips a beat when he says that, but you shake away the thought, knowing that Ben is only saying that to make Howard angry.
“Your girl?!” Howard sputters, his face growing red. “She’s not your girl!”
“Howie, buddy-“ Ben’s confident smirk slips over his features but you still see the anger beneath the surface. “Calm down, you’ll give yourself a heart attack.”
“Just because you think you have some claim on her because you’ve been stringing her along with the harem that usually follows you, does not make her your girl!” Howard fumes. “She’s with me.” Howard grabs your wrist again and drags you towards him.
“Hey wait a minute-“ You begin to say.
Ben grabs the front of Howard's tailored suit, rumpling the pristine fabric. “Don’t you dare touch her like that.”
“I will touch her however I damn well please! She's mine-"
The grip on your wrist is so tight that you know it’ll leave bruises. “Howard wait-“ You try again to diffuse the tension, bringing your free hand to rest on his forearm to make him let go.
“Shut up.” He snaps, eyes flashing back to you.
Ben’s temper flares and the sharp crack of his fist against Howard’s face echoes through the room. Howard stumbles away, letting go of your wrist as he reels backward to the welcoming hardwood floor that catches him when he falls.
“Don’t you ever speak to her that way you arrogant son of a bitch!” Ben shouts taking a step forward. His shoulders are tense, fists clenched at his sides and his jaw is tight, as his anger burns through the air.
By now the band has stopped playing music and all the couples around you are watching with wide eyes.
I have to do something before he kills him.
You put yourself between them, your hands firmly planted on Ben’s muscular chest so your back is to where Howard stands fuming. “Ben. Don’t.”
But he’s not looking at you, his gaze is locked with Howard’s, eyes blazing, muscles tensing beneath the palms of your hands. You try to ignore how good his chest feels beneath your touch.
Damn it.
“Ben.” You say his name again.
His eyes snap back to yours. The soft green has hardened to an emerald with the force of his rage, so different than how he looked when the two of you were dancing. But he doesn’t say anything.
“Please.” You whisper. "Stop."
Ben looks from you to Howard, before he finally exhales. “Fine.” He mutters, and he turns and vanishes into the crowd of people without another word.
A minute passes and the music begins all over again, the band on the stage starting with a lively tune that makes the couples around you to move back on to the dance floor, but the tension of what just happened remains in the air.
Because what did just happen? Did Ben do that because he was protective of me? Or did he do that because he was jealous?
Your eyes trace where he vanished, longing for him to come back, but when he doesn't appear, you're left to deal with the aftermath. 
********************************
After numerous apologies to Howard, he finally relented and took you back to your dorm, leaving your group of friends at the dance hall. You knew there would definitely be a conversation about what just happened between you all when they got back, but even you were confused. Ben was always protective of you, but what happened seemed over the top. You think about how Ben called you “my girl," the way he said it sending a thrill down your spine. He’d never done that before and you wondered if it was because he wanted to get a rise out of Howard or because he believed it.
Not like he’s tried to do anything about it. You think to yourself stroking one finger against your bruised wrist. The discoloration was more prominent now, black and blue marks beginning to sprout like flowers in spring. Howard’s eye didn’t look much better when he dropped you off. You were surprised that he’d been forgiving enough to continue to see you, not that you wanted to see him, but you didn't think you could handle a letter from your mother.
Then again maybe she would pull you out of this ridiculous school.
A small tap at your window causes you to raise your head to look out the glass. Ben is sitting there, but he doesn’t smile like he usually does. Your dorm room was on the first floor, which meant that Ben didn't need to shimmy up a tree to get into it like he did when you were home. Then again this was the first time he'd showed up here and you wondered how he knew where your room was. You also weren't thrilled at his appearance because you didn't know when Pearl would come back and you weren't sure what your roommate would do if she came back and found Ben in your room. She was a stickler for the rules and despite your friendship, rooming with her was one of your least favorite things about the Dawson School For Girls.
“If they find you here I’m going to be in so much trouble.” You say helping him through the small window, putting your hand on the back of his head so that he doesn't bang it against the glass. "You might like getting kicked out of boarding schools, but I don't."
“They won’t find out.” Ben rolls his eyes. He glances at Pearl’s empty bed on the other side of the room. “Roommate not back yet?”
“No she was still dancing when I left.”
Ben frowns. “Where’s the asshole?”
“Ben-“
“What?”
“He left. And I don't exactly invite him up to where I sleep."
“Good.” Ben flexes his fist.
“How did you know which room was mine?” You ask. Ben had never come to see you before at boarding school and the fact that he was here probably meant that boarding school number ten was out.
“I might have guessed wrong.” He smirks.
“Uh-huh.” You sigh, but all you can think about is how he acted earlier. Your feet shift back and forth “Why did you hit him?”
Ben’s eyes darken. “He shouldn’t have touched you like that or said that to you.”
You stand there for a minute observing his reaction.
“He kinda deserved it." You say slowly.
You knew it was true. When Ben showed up Howard shouldn’t have lost it like he did, he definitely shouldn’t have grabbed you like that or called you his-
You stutter on that thought. But maybe he is right. I am Howard’s. We’ve been going steady… The thought of being his makes something curl up in your chest and die. There was only one man that you wanted to belong to.
"Yeah.” Ben sighs.
"Why did you call me your 'girl'?" You ask.
"Um." Ben shrugs. "Felt right in the moment."
"What?"
"I mean you are. You're my friend-"
"But that doesn't mean friend Ben." You say it gently trying to catch his eye, but Ben won't meet your gaze.
"Fine. I just wanted to mess with him a little bit." Ben frowns. "But I didn't like that he called you his, or the fact that he hurt you."
“But Ben I am his.” You whisper even though you don’t want to. “We’re going steady-“
“That doesn’t make you his!” Ben snaps, eyes flashing. “Just because he feels the need to say it doesn’t mean it’s true.”
“But Ben-“
“And I never want to hear you say it.” He continues loudly.
What is wrong with him? I've never seen him this angry about anything.
“Why?”
“Because that means he has some claim on you. You’re not his, you’re my friend.”
"You're being ridiculous. You're saying that he can't have some claim on me but you're possessively calling me your friend!" You shout back frustrated.
Why is he acting like this? Does he really hate Howard that much?
"I am not! I'm just saying that you're my friend and you're not his!"
“I can’t be both?” Your words hang in the air between the two of you and you mentally beg Ben to answer. He was acting like he wanted you to be his, like he believed that he had some claim on you and you couldn't remember another time that he'd acted this way. Sure he teased Howard, but this was more than that.
It was almost possessive and it kinda scared you how much you liked it.
Ben doesn’t answer your question. His shoulders are tense, hands clenched into fists at his sides, while something lurks behind his eyes that you can’t identify.
“Ben?” You say it like a question, ignoring the urge to press your hands against his chest like you did earlier at the dance to calm him down.
His gaze drops to your arm, where Howard grabbed you, tracing the bruises and clenching his jaw together. Ben’s right hand comes to delicately pick up your bruised wrist, running his thumb over the discolored flesh with a frown. “Does it hurt?” He rumbles changing the subject.
“No. Does that hurt?” You breathe noticing his bruised knuckles and gently probe your fingers along them.
You hated the though that he was hurt and for you, no less.
Why did he have to intervene? Why did he hit Howard?
“It was worth it.”
You both stand there for a minute, with Ben holding on to your wrist, touch surprisingly gentle.
“I just don’t like that he hurt you okay?” He mutters raising his eyes to yours. You weren't prepared for the soft look in his eyes. You expected him to still be angry over Howard, but he almost looked, worried.
“I'm okay Ben." You whisper back.
You want him to answer your question. You think again about telling him those three little words you wanted to say when you were swaying on the dance floor together but you can’t.
He nods once before he looks around the room, eyes falling on your sketchpad where it lays closed on your bed. "Got any new ones?"
You knew it was Ben's way of asking if he could stay, trying to tell you that he didn’t want to go back to Philadelphia that night, and you didn't want him to either.
"A few. If you're not too tired-"
"I’m never too tired for you."
You feel your heart beat rapidly in your chest. “Okay.”
The whole time you sit together on your bed, Ben doesn't drop your wrist, in fact he continues to brush his thumb against it while you look through your sketchbook. And in a few hours when Pearl finds you and Ben curled up in bed together, you’re not embarrassed, because deep down you’re starting to believe that Ben cared for you more than he was willing to admit.
*******************************
Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to the taglist for this series, please let me know :)
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elsa-fogen · 5 months
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what do you think about the fact that al likes doodling?
i have a head canon that he has some sort of scrapbook or sketchbook full of little doodles of things going on at the hotel and just in his life, I feel like he would draw really stick-figureish (is that a word?) but I read a fic that depicted it as the same art style as an Invader-Zim obsessed scene girl and I could not stop cackling.
I also feel like he would either guard it with his life from everyone (exception to Rosie, of course) or just not bother to tell anyone and one day they just find him doodling schoolgirl style, kicking his legs in the air, LMAO NEW THOUGHT WHAT IF CHARLIE OR LUCIFER FOUND IT
OH! OH! Now that you mentioned it - i LOVE that about him! I just absolutely ADORE little thing he made for the add in the first episode. And i love this fact because 1) he's the first character i like that likes to draw canonically (okay maybe also toothless from httyd?) 2) Me and Alastor share so many similarities, and even drawing???? This just makes me love him even more (i'm sure we would hate each other irl tho AHAHHAHAHA or maybe not, idk)
SO, SINCE ME AND AL ARE SO SIMILAR, I'M GONNA PROJECT ON HIM MY DRAWING HABITS >:3c Forgive me this one, i usualy don't do that, i usualy project characters on myself haha
He DOES have sketchbooks just to draw, and they are ORGANISED. He's numbers every sketchbook and counts every drawing in them since the first one. He also has two numbers for each page - through one sketchbook and through them all. He has over 300 of sketchbooks by now (I have less, only 56). They are stashed somewhere in a very safe place.
Every sketchbook has a date of first and last drawing. Also amount of drawings. It looks like: NOTEBOOK 253 (number of sketchbook, also he doesn't call them sketchbooks) 03.06.1978-05.07.1978 (dates while it was active) 119 (amount of drawings) 29961-30080 (which numbers of drawings are in this sketchbook) He would cound something else, but he's just too busy to spend time on it. He can remember something thinking about what he was drawing in that period and vice versa
He used to draw at overlords meetings, pissing off Carmila and everyone else, because it looked like he hadn't listened to them, so Carmila banned drawing at overlords meetings (Alastor is still angry about it)
But he doesn't progress too much - most of his progress was made through first 10-20 sketchbooks, now he only has slight style changes sometimes when he feels like it
Tho he's really proud of his current skill and used to think that he's literally the best (used to get angry when reminded that it's not true) (now he kinda knows, but still likes his own drawings, doesn't accept criticism and doesn't try to purposely improve)
He likes showing his drawings to people, he knows and if he does, you have to say that it's literally So Cool, show enthusiasm turning pages and say that everything is just amazing. If you don't, he'll be OFFENDED. He also can leave a sketchbook opened on a page with a drawing he likes the most, and it's like a sign "NOTICE THAT I'M DRAWING AND SAY THAT YOU LIKE IT"
If he considers you a friend (well not like Rosie, but at least like Charlie), he'll be showing you his drawings regularly (and you have to be enthusiastic about it!!!!!!) He has showed it to Charlie, but somehow her enthusiasm is... too much. She's too patronising about it. He also shows his things to Husk, he knows that Husk is annoyed and doesn't give a shit, and he just enjoys his annoyance. He also shows his drawings to Niffty and she gives him Just Right amount and vibe of enthusiasm. (He sometimes draws something for her fanfiction if he likes something enough and enjoys Niffty's reaction (she explodes from happiness)). BUT!!!!! He never shows anything to Mimzy. Because she's like, person from the real life, and he feels like she would laugh at it. To Rosie he shows only things he considers his best and her opinion is the most important to him. He can even forgive her criticism (wouldn't take it tho) (she never critisizes him and absolutely ADORES his drawings). Angel kinda likes his drawings, but isn't enthusiastic about them enough
He doesn't take requests (Angel tried "draw me like one of your french girls" shit, Alastor never did (also his ass did not get the reference and he was like "i dont??? have??? any french girls????")) (Vox also tried to make Alastor draw something for him, Alastor was just "that's interesting, i'll think about it" and never thought of it again)
SOME OF HIS DRWINGS TURNED OUT TO BE PROPHECIES but he notices that only when something happens and then he goes back to his old sketchbooks and accidentally finds it. They are just coincidenses tho, but it's fun and Alastor makes a big deal from it and screams to Rosie like "I PREDICTED THAT SHIT 27 YEARS AGO" when finds out. (it's how i predicted many plot points from SU and literally TOH hunter's possession before the show even was a thing JHJDFJHFGJFDHKH i wonder if i predicted something from Hazbin, i need to look through my sketchbooks now)
If you dare to mess with his drawings and vandalise them... oh... you better pray to whatever god you belive in to make your sufferings be enough to redeem your sins and go to heven.
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Style experimentation feat. zim and dib (rough chronological order). This is the most fun I've had drawing in a long time!! Still kind of in shock over it.
This all started from Two Things: A.) I've been looking at animatics in preparation to make a ✨Portfolio✨, and B.) I saw some fanart that had me making heart eyes and I still can't stop looking at it.
When I first started this invader zim kick a couple months ago, I didn't think it was going to lead me down this path. I thought I was going to draw some of the characters in "my style", and eventually move onto something else. I don't know HOW it ended up being this sort of retrospective muse for me, where I'm challenging myself and trying new things. Maybe iz isn't the cause, maybe this would have happened regardless of what characters I was drawing. But here we are.
And I am so so so happy for it because I USED to draw like this all the time!!! This is what my sketchbook used to look like!! And somehow I just?? Forgot? That I could draw this way. That there wasn't anything stopping me. And that it would be so FUN. You can literally draw, and make the characters less detailed, but simultaneously more exaggerated and expressive, AND you can make more drawings in less time?? Ive always been a quantity over quality person when it comes to drawing, and i think its the animator in me that loves drawing like that. I was drawing all day yesterday. I didn't want to put the pencil down, and it's been a long time since I've felt that way about drawing. I had so much fun and I don't want to draw any other way ever again...That's just how I feel right now at least.
I swear, I probably come off as the most wishy washy person. First I messed around with zims design multiple times, now I'm inking stuff, now I'm drawing cartoonier. THIS IS NEW FOR ME I SWEAR... its been a long long time since ive let myself draw this way. I guess I just hadn't realized how much I was restricting myself.
Anyway, rough chronological order. The first adult dib page (second to last image) was actually the first one I drew. You can tell from the last page that I used the shapes n such from the kid dib on the older dib to make it look more like him. The big forehead is actually pretty crucial lol
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meruz · 1 year
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it's been a while since the last time i piled up all my sketchbooks so here's all the ones I could find from the last uhhh 6 years ish. since graduating art school lol!!
scattered thoughts below the cut
it's harder for me to use a sketchbook consistently as a working artist... in school I would sketch a lot aimlessly in class/lectures etc but nowadays it feels like everything I sketch is with an end goal in mind for work or some other project. if I want to draw """for fun"" I really have to find and allot time for it which can feel silly lol. I do a lot of sketching on public transport now.
I didn't take pics of the interiors but I think its kind of interesting that i feel like the heights of having a nice looking sketchbook interior for me peaked in college. in art school, people often ask to look at your sketchbook so I really filled pages and made sure they looked nice. there's also a lot of energy in those pages... in contrast my highschool sketchbooks and post-college sketchbooks are pretty ugly on the inside because I'm really the only one looking at them lol. my sketchbooks now are especially ugly because i dont even care about the drawings being good. i think in highschool i tried to make every drawing as good as possible because I was really struggling to improve just basic drawing skill and in art school i tried to make the page at least as nice as possible. now its all about ideas and iteration, i just keep making bad drawings and keep flipping the page.
EDIT. also last time I piled up all my sketchbooks i divided them into sections for each year of art school which kind of felt like chapters of my life.. if i had to divide these into sections its a little less clean but its probably something like this
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mochinek0 · 10 months
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Daminette December 2023: 4-Orange (SUB)
Damian sighed as his brothers argued. They all wanted him to socialize more and were trying to figure out the best way to do it.
"Just go up and talk to someone." Jason declared.
"It's not that simple or he would have done it already." Tim stated.
"Tell someone a pun." Dick smiled, "It always works."
"No it doesn't." Jason argued.
Unbeknownst to their younger brother, the all had different goals in mind for him. Yes, the wanted him to socialize more, but for different reasons. The eldest wanted him to simply make a friend. Jason thought it was better if he landed someone's number so that he could communicate through text. It seemed the simplest option. He wouldn't even have to talk in person. Tim was hoping he'd get a girlfriend and would stay out of the manor more.
Damian sighed as he walked up to a girl with sketchbook open at the outdoor café. She seemed really into what she was drawing. She hadn't even noticed him. He quickly cleared his throat. When she looked up, he saw the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen and he was surrounded by blue eyes at home.
"Orange you glad you met me?" he quickly spoke, holding up a cup of orange juice.
The girl remained silent and looked at him confused. Embarassed, Damian pulled out the earpiece his brothers had given him and slammed it on the table.
'Idiots!'
Marinette looked at the earpiece and smiled softly.
"I'm assuming someone was telling you to say that." She spoke.
Damian froze and looked at the girl across from him.
"Yes." he whispered.
"Oh, thank kwami." She sighed in relief.
Damian looked at her in shock.
"If you were serious, I would have told you to fuck off." the girl giggled.
Damian smirked, "Is it okay if I sit here?"
She nodded.
"My brothers are attempting to get me to socialize more." he explained.
"Well, you're off to a good start." she stated, "Puns aside."
"I take it you don't like puns." Damian commented.
She rolled her eyes, "I've heard enough to last me a lifetime."
"Ex boyfriend?" he questioned.
"Flirty guy who wants to date me and thinks flirting with puns is ideal." she commented.
"You've met my older brother?" Damian asked, shocked.
She giggled and questioned, "Is your older brother blonde?"
"No." Damian answered.
"Then there's two idiots like that." she replied.
Damian sighed and rubbed his forehead, making her laugh.
"My father does it as well." she continued.
"My apologies." he spoke.
"Marinette." the girl smiled.
"My apologies, Marinette." he declared, "I'm Damian."
His brothers watched in shock as he took a seat a the table.
"I told you a pun would work!" Dick exclaimed, "Puns always work!"
"Then, why did he take out the earpiece, Nitwit?" Jason asked.
They put their binoculars up and saw their youngest brother smile.
"He better make her a friend, at least!" Jason snarled.
"Why?" Tim questioned.
Jason snickered, "She made him smile."
'Don't fuck this up, Damian!'
The Wayne boys were eager to know what happened once Damian got home. Dick just smiled in anticipation of a thank you. The moment Damian walked through the door, they were by his side.
"So, how did it go?" Dick smiled.
"Did you make a friend?" Tim asked.
"Please, tell me you at least got a name!" Jason shouted.
"It was alright." Damian commented, "I can't say we are friends, but I did learn her name."
"Yes!" Jason cried, "Baby steps!"
Dick smiled joyfully, "See, I told you puns always work."
"They don't." Damian stated, "She was about to tell me to fuck off."
Dick stared at him in shock as the other two laughed.
"You thought you were so cool." Tim laughed.
"She also stated that some blonde continuously flirts with her with puns." Damian announced, "She tells him to leave her alone constantly. Her father uses wordplay as a form of laughter as well, but she only accepts his commentary."
Dick sighed as Damian walked away, leaving the other two to playfully comfort and tease him. Damian walked into his room and locked the door. He pulled out his phone and looked at the new number in his phone.
'Marinette. She's not a friend, yet, but it was nice to talk to her about art.'
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