#bullshit in my sketchbook that i really like but will never do anything with

[mo-ok]

every time my partner grabs two iceypoles at once this is all i can think about

[blujayonthewing]

I WANT!! to be a person who does little dnd doodles immediately after sessions and I WANT to be a person who nature journals regularly and I WANT to be a person who brings watercolors to colorado and actually uses them I WANT to do art casually and freely and joyfully as a reflection and extension of being an active participant in the world!!! FUCK!!!!

[velvetlilacsdaisies]

Shit at Feelings ii

Bodhi Durran x Reader

Synopsis: Bonding with dragons? No issue. Killing venin? Unfortunate, but doable. Confronting your feelings towards your childhood best friend? No thanks.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: Spoilers!! Swearing, reader being stubborn and both reader and Bodhi being lil dummies?? Lmk if I missed anything.

A/n: the end of 2023 kicked my booty!! Beginning of 2024 no better, but here is part 2! I was stuck on if some of part 3 was going to go in this one, but decided not to. Meddling Imogen, and dragon dialogue is included this part!

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The next day, you stretched with Imogen, returning from a morning run. Most cadets were still sleeping their hangovers off. Imogen said the best way to get over one was running it off. She had picked your lock and dragged you out of your bed this morning to do so. But you knew she just wanted to gossip about the night before.

“So you and Durran?” She had a smirk on her lips, tucking a piece of vibrant pink hair behind her ear.

Imogen only knew about whatever you felt for Bodhi, but with the way Rhiannon reacted last night you weren’t sure if you were discreet about whatever you felt in the first place.

“Not what you think.” You sighed, your arms over your head as you sat on the ground, leaning to one side. “We talked once everyone went to bed.”

She looked at you expectantly as she lifted a leg and stretched it behind her. “And?”

You clicked your tongue, leaning to the other side. “And he called me out on my bullshit.”

She laughed almost manically, earning her a pointed glare. “I’m sorry, sorry.” She then dropped her leg and lifted her other. “But you really left him high and dry.”

You grumbled, “I know and I feel like shit about it.” You stood up dusting your leathers off.

“Y/n, just tell him how you feel.” She shook her hands out.

“How do you expect me to tell him everything when I’ve been avoiding him for years because I’m too scared that something will happen once I spill my guts.”

“Gods, I get it. You’re scared, but you already almost died once without telling him. You think you shouldn’t say a little prayer to Malek and Amari that they gave you a second chance?” Imogen said sternly. “Also if it was anyone else you pulled that disappearing act with, you wouldn’t have the same mercy. But it’s Bodhi we’re talking about, and he would let you lead him to hell and back as many times as you wanted because let’s face it—you’re you. And for some fucked up reason he worships the ground you walk on like you were a god yourself.”

You didn’t know if the queasiness you felt was the hangover or how right she was. He would do anything for you. Even how shitty you treated him for the last two years. Last night proved that.

“He even risked smuggling your fucking sketchbook in so you could have something from home—“

“What?” Your jaw dropped.

The pink haired girl inhaled sharply. “Fuck I wasn’t supposed to say that.”

“He was the one that did that?” Your heart skipped a beat. Even when you had been so stubborn to avoid him, he thought of you? You had questioned the hell out of Garrick, Imogen, and Xaden for a week about it. You had never thought about the younger Riorson cousin.

“I hate being the middleman in your two demented whatever you got going on.” She sighed. “Listen, forget I said that or take that as a sign to pull your head out of your ass. I’ll see you at breakfast.” She patted your shoulder, leaving you alone in the courtyard.

Well you felt like the shittiest person ever.

You knew you needed to talk to him, and you couldn’t run and avoid him this time. As much as you wanted to hop on Clesaí’s back and ride very far away. Fuck.

You had spent an hour already mulling over the information you had just received. Then replaying the argument last night—which then led to remembering the very brief exchange with Bodhi in Aretia, ultimately leading you to the nightmare from Resson plaguing your thoughts. Like they had when you tossed and turned in bed last night, and the prior nights before that. By the time you entered the mess hall, your thoughts felt like nonsense.

He sat with Imogen at the end of the table filled with third years. They looked deep in a discussion, whispering only to one another. You gulped quietly, were they talking about you? You now knew Imogen felt like a middleman between the two of you, you wondered what he talked about to her. You tried not to overthink it as you reluctantly walked over.

As you reached the table, you could hear Bodhi saying something quite harshly. While the pink haired girl had the same expression she wore when she told you to pull your head out of your ass. It was obviously something he didn’t want you to hear because as soon as he saw you coming up, he stopped mid sentence.

“Can we talk?” You asked him, not bothering to greet the pair. He tensed, and you didn’t miss the look he tried to discreetly give your mutual best friend.

Imogen rolled her eyes, grabbing her things and getting up from the table. “I totally forgot Quinn needed help with something. Bye guys.” She gave a twinkle of her fingers before walking away with a smug look on her face.

You sat down, taking the seat Imogen had been in. “So,” you awkwardly tapped your fingers on the wooden table.

“So,” he repeated. “How was your morning run with Immy?”

“Brutal.” You replied. Why was this so uncomfortable?

“Listen, about last night—”

“It needed to be said.” You waved a hand nonchalantly. Your heart begged to differ, beating against your chest. “I was icing you out.”

“I didn’t mean to come off so harshly.” He tucked his bottom lip between his teeth nervously.

Was it possible for you to want a man more? Even during such an embarrassing display of emotion on your behalf? Trying not to focus on the fact you wanted to reach over and be the one tugging his bottom lip between your teeth, you stared at the wood grain of the table.

“I was stubborn.” You reasoned.

“Y/n Y/L/n, stubborn?” There was a tinge of amusement in his tone. “I guess there’s a first time for everything—I mean the taking accountability part at least.” You looked up, and saw him intently staring at you. Through the sarcasm, his brown eyes were warm like deep rich honey.

A ghost of a smile on your lips. “You know me better than anyone else apart from Imogen. The way I regarded you wasn’t fair.” You then contemplated your next words. “And I know—”

“Durran!” Dain walked over, Rhiannon, and a few other second and third year cadets behind him.

Bodhi flinched, shifting his attention to the group. “Yes, Wingleader Aetos?” He had icy malice as he took in Dain. You yourself could feel your anger rise when the third year came in your vicinity. He was the reason you had been in Resson, and why Liam and Soilel were dead.

Dain noted the unwelcome greeting from the both of you and faltered for a moment, heat flushing his cheeks. “We have a meeting.” He cleared his throat, straightening back up.

The man sat across from you glared over to the brunette man. “I’ll be right there.” He then turned back to you with a softer look in his eyes and an apologetic smile where the scowl was a moment prior. “Can we finish this conversation later?”

You could feel the eyes of Rihannon linger on the two of you, and you knew the others now were acutely aware of the interaction as well.

“Yeah, yeah. No worries.” You brushed it off, though disappointment filled you. You were finally getting somewhere, but you knew he couldn’t ignore the newly appointed wingleader.

You had been looking down in your lap, missing the subtle look back Bodhi gave you as he left with the group.

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Later had come and gone with no sign of Bodhi still. Leaving a lurching feeling in your heart, but you tried not to wallow in self pity too much. You had thought maybe you deserved to be stood up. But at least you didn’t run this time, and it was his move now.

“The male of your affection causes too much of a distraction for you anyway.” Cleasaí huffed in your mind. Rolling your eyes you focused on the sketchbook in front of you. “Makes you a lovesick puppy as you would say.”

“Am not,” you bristled.

It was late in the afternoon and you were spending time with Cleasaí in the flight field, avoiding everyone. You had brought a blanket to lay on as you laid back against her front leg. She protectively curled around you, sunbathing, leaving you with a sufficient amount of shade to look at your sketchbook.

“I’m assuming you’ve never had a dragon that captured your affection?” You spoke out loud.

She nestled her head on the ground, huffing again. “I’d rather not say,” you could sense the disdain in her bored tone. A sly smile crept on your face, leaning up and staring right at the green dragon, who had feigned resting her eyes.

“You have, haven’t you?” Egging for more info from the clubtail.

“We haven’t been seeing eye to eye for a year.” Was all she grumbled. “Speaking of not seeing eye to eye. Your human approaches.”

“He’s not my human.” You hissed quietly, looking up to see Bodhi was indeed walking towards you, his dragon Cuir following a reasonable distance away.

“I’ve been looking for you.” He offered you a lazy smile, careful to avoid eye contact with Cleasaí. “Cuir said he thought he noticed Cleasaí leave the Vale.”

Your dragon sighed in annoyance. “Busybody,” she glowered in your head, causing you to grin. Did she mean Cuir or Bodhi? “I meant the annoying green one, but your human is quite a busybody as well. He couldn’t have waited until you came back from the flight field?” This caused a genuine laugh to escape your lips.

Bodhi only gave you a nervous look, “I hope she’s not talking about me.”

“You can tell him yes.” She grunted.

“No, she's just grumpy.” You lightly patted her scaly leg causing her to grunt again.

“How’s her claw?” He asked, scanning the injured back leg of hers.

“None of his business or that one’s over there.” She chuffed, baring her teeth toward Cuir. You didn’t know why she was persistent on one of her own den members not knowing of her condition.

Rolling your eyes, ignoring her. “She's doing better. She should be clear when lessons start again.”

Bodhi had a tight lipped smile on his own face, his shoulders shaking in laughter. Cuir whipping his head annoyed several yards behind him.

“I’m sorry, he can be quite the worrier especially over—”

An audible growl came from your dragon, earning a suspicious look from you.

“What is going on with you?” You scolded Cleasaí mentally.

“Worry about your own human afflictions.” Was all she said down the bond.

The man glanced at the book in your lap, and a grin spread across his cheeks. “You’re drawing in your sketchbook again?” He took a seat across from you on the ground, careful to not be too close to your dragon. Cuir had done the same in the distance.

You blushed slightly, “there’s a new sentimental value to it.” You chewed on your bottom lip, looking up at him. Bodhi had a gleam you couldn’t place in his eye, and his cheeks were blushed slightly too. You couldn’t help but smile broadly at his coyness. “I know you’re the one that brought the book back.”

“Who? Me? Why would I do that?” He propped his knees up, holding his forearms on them as he gazed up at the late afternoon sky.

He had always looked the handsomest during golden hour, your favorite features of his were enhanced. The tones of the setting sun had embraced his face, his eyes warm with gold flecks scattered throughout, and his onyx curls radiating chocolate brown undertones.

You tucked your hair behind your ear, “I don’t know I was wondering the same.” The broad smile painted on your face tilted downward.

“I thought maybe it would’ve been a dead giveaway, and you would have taken it as an olive branch.” He suggested, turning back to you.

You were thumbing at the page that it had been on, the textured parchment. Boy, were you an idiot.

“I thought you hated me or would have been tired of me by now.” You admitted.

“Why would I feel either of those things Y/n?”

“Because you offer me all this patience and kindness that I don’t deserve.” You said exasperated. “And in return I offer stubbornness and do everything in my power to avoid you.”

He chuckled dryly, “haven’t you realized? I don’t care.”

“Well I feel like you should.” This would be an argument that you wouldn’t let go. Screw Amari or Malek giving you a second chance, you didn’t feel worthy of that chance. Nor did you want to see anything happen to Bodhi if you were to accept him back into your life.

“Well, unfortunately I can’t control how I feel,” He looked back at the sketchbook in your lap. A smirk creeping onto his lips. “And apparently neither can you.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyebrow raised at him, and he only made a subtle gesture to the book. You looked down, your cheeks turning bright red.

You had been aimlessly sketching, not thinking too much about what you were putting on paper. It started as just a pair of eyes, but then turned to a full blown portrait of a man. Not just any man though, it had a striking resemblance to Bodhi.

Who were you trying to fool? It was him. From the crinkle by his eye when he’s amused to the unruly curls that always fell in his face.

“That’s all I need to know,” the smirk had turned to a shit eating grin.

You kept opening your mouth trying to respond, but you were left speechless.

“You can’t pull your shit anymore, Y/l/n.” He lifted himself off the ground, wiping the dirt off his leathers standing.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shake your head furiously, finding your voice finally.

You wanted to wipe the cocky look off his face desperately. “Whether you admit it or not, you can’t hide from me anymore.” He responded so cooly, it made you grit your teeth irritatedly. “Don’t worry, Y/n/n your secret’s safe with me.” He teasingly held his hand over his heart. “It’s rather endearing.”

“Bodhi,” you groaned. You could feel the heat evade your face and ears. “It’s not that serious—“

“Serious enough to me.” He didn’t let your annoyance faze him. “I’ll see you around.”

You rolled your eyes, watching him leave down to the main campus. Cuir takes off into the sky and back to the Vale, leaving you and Cleasaí alone again. Releasing a sigh of air that you hadn’t known you were holding when he got out of the ear shot.

‘Lovesick puppy.’ Your dragon had hummed amused. Deep chirping sounds audibly coming from her. Was she laughing at you?

“Me?” You were quick to turn and glower, your lip tugging upward in aggitatation. “How about we talk about you for a second? What the hell was that?”

‘It’s just sometimes the male greens can be so…” she paused. ‘Suffocating?’ She was choosing her words wisely. As though it seemed like she was hiding something, but not surprising you though. Cleasaí was rather secretive, it was what she was known for in the green den. A trickster of sorts, with cunning deception.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You pressed further.

She chuffed, “I’d rather not divulge that at the moment, but in due time...” She drew, sounding almost feline.

You knew better to argue, she was just as hard headed as you, and if you pushed her too hard, she’d push right back. Then that got you both nowhere. So you stood, gathering your things to retreat to your dorm and get ready for dinner and tonight’s shenanigans.

“Sooner than later, please.” You gave her an expectant look.

She got up, shaking out her scales and stretched a bit. “Yes yes sooner than later, don’t fret Lovesick puppy.”

“Stop calling me that!” You yelled over your shoulder as you retreated back to campus. You could hear the chuff she released in amusement in the distance as you descended the ancient stone stairs.

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Thank you so much for the patience and the support! Please do not hesitate to let me know your thoughts and feedback. Also like and reblog 🫶🩷🤠

[sanctus-ingenium]

Can you tell us more about your horses? Are they part of a story? Love the creature design

boy are they

Félix - he's the main character of the 1860s cycle of the Inver setting. Well, one of three main characters. He's my take on the classic Victorian orphan story with a changelinegtwist, and ends up becoming a regular conman who mainly does door to door sales of bullshit snake oil and insurance scams. Also a master of pretending to be hit by a carriage. A falling out with his two best friends/boyfriends results in him trying and failing to make it on his own, and he gets captured by the Púca just as he's basically dying of exposure in the middle of winter. In return for saving his life, the Púca takes on Félix as a faery servant whose job is to feed his new master by tricking humans into falling into the barrow (the endless field in the Otherworld which is the Púca's territory). He tries to patch things up with his friends, only to find that five years have passed since his disappearance, and old arguments have become deep festering wounds. Neither do they believe that it's really him.

Yeah so as a horse(/shapeshifter) he's the youngest, he's spiky all the time, and he tries hard to hide that part of himself. He wants nothing to do with it. He's the one in my icon. Personality-wise he's a manipulative liar who would say anything to keep his friends at his side, even at their expense.

Macha was once in Félix's exact position - snatched up by the Púca who told her she was special, that she was its favourite. But that was hundreds of years ago now, and the Púca has a shiny new toy to play with. Macha has been abandoned and is slowly losing herself to the erosion of time, and the way she sees it, the best way to regain her former status is to take care of the Púca's newest pet.

Macha spends most of her time as a horse and can be distinguished by her long straight mane and tail. She cannot tell the truth no matter how hard she tries, and speaks mainly in riddles.

Puck is the Púca itself, a pure shapeshifter with no human origin, the original master of the field and Lord of Lies. It is intensely clever and loves to fuck with people, and particularly enjoys watching its own underlings fight for its attention. Puck never takes a human form and tends to appear slightly abstract or unreal, not like a flesh and blood creature, with a minimalist silhouette. I'll be honest I have rarely drawn Puck like ever because the whole point of it is fear of the unknown, and I don't feel strong enough artistically to depict it properly.

Pascal is the modern day equivalent of Puck and its de facto replacement as the master of the field. Pascal is nothing like Puck and likes to throw the whole kitchen sink into his appearance in an effort to seem flashy and intimidating. he is in love with his own face and that's why he tends to take his centaur form in a certain... direction. You can learn more about him including details about his origin and human disguise in my sketchbook all about him with like fifty unpublished drawings but basically he's just kind of a dipshit jerk with a massive ego who gets tamed by a bona fide horse trainer. He has a habit of abducting humans to psychologically torture them on his TV set, but he claims that not all of the abductions are his doing, and that, for some, he has been falsely accused...

Unicorn is Pascal's antagonist. It is mysterious and appears to live on or under the water of Lough Cánamac, the centre of magic in the country of Inver. Unicorns are not supposed to exist in this setting, let alone unicorns which might be the actual culprit behind the most brutal abductions

[parkitaco]

back on my bullshit 42 for byler ask game 🙏

"You look like a total mess."

Mike rolls his eyes, shrugging his coat off and stomping the snow off of his boots as he closes the door behind him. "Thanks," he says sarcastically as he hangs his coat on the rack by the door and kicks his shoes off haphazardly. "Love you too."

Will grins at him from his seat on the couch, where he's sprawled out with his sketchbook. “How’s the weather?” he asks idly, as Mike shakes snowflakes out of his unruly mane of hair and flops onto the couch beside him.

“Shitty,” Mike responds, scowling as he tries to shove his damp hair away from his face, only to have it immediately fall back into his eyes. “It’s, like, sleeting sideways, and it’s fucking freezing and- okay, that’s it, I’m cutting my hair,” he huffs, as a wet strand finds its way into his mouth.

Will laughs, setting his sketchbook aside and reaching out to brush some of the hair away from Mike’s face. He’s no more successful in this endeavor than Mike was, but his fingers are warm when they brush against Mike’s reddened cheeks, so Mike can’t really find it in himself to complain. “I like your hair,” Will says affectionately, tugging on one strand. “If you don’t want it in your face you could just tie it up.”

Mike makes a face. “That doesn’t work either. I always miss a chunk and then it’s still in my face and looks stupid.”

“You could never look stupid,” Will retorts, and then pauses, smirking. “Well, actually you probably could, but I’d like you anyway.”

“You just said I was a mess,” Mike points out, but he’s smiling, and Will rolls his eyes good-naturedly.

“A hot mess,” Will corrects, leaning forward to press a kiss to Mike’s cheek, and Mike flushes pink. Will grins, proud of himself, and trails another kiss to his jaw. "C'mere," he says, as though Mike is not already halfway in his lap.

Mike gives him a look, and Will huffs out a fake-irritated breath, clambering up onto the back of the sofa and perching above him, hands winding themselves in Mike's hair.

"What are you doing?" Mike laughs, tilting his head back to peer up at Will, who's winding his hair around his fingers, sectioning off chunks.

"M' braiding it," he says, brow furrowed in concentration. "So it's not in your face."

Mike frowns up at him. "I didn't know you knew how to braid," he says, as Will's fingers brush against his scalp.

Will purses his lips. "El went through a whole thing where she wanted her hair braided all the time, but she can't do her own hair to save her life and my mom is even worse, so me and Max did it for her."

Mike blinks. "Where was I when all this happened?"

Will shrugs. "I don't know. You don't always notice things like that unless they're right in your face. Tilt your head down, I can't see what I'm doing."

Mike does as he's told, brow furrowing as he gazes out at the living room. Will's fingers dig through his hair, not hard enough to hurt but enough to send a shiver down his spine, and he relaxes into the touch a little, enjoying the way Will's nimble fingers feel against his scalp. "I notice things," he says petulantly, as Will sinches a section of hair down and Mike's head tilts back a little of its own accord.

"Like what?" Will asks absently, sounding more curious than anything else, like he genuinely takes Mike's word for it.

"I don't know," Mike says, biting his lip and leaning against Will's knee. His legs rest on either side of Mike, knees at shoulder height, caging him in. "I noticed that you were wearing a new sweater the other day, remember?"

"That's just because you wanted to steal it," Will replies, a smile in his voice, and Mike tilts his face back up just long enough to stick his tongue out at him.

"Incorrect," he says, as Will gently shoves his head back into an upright position. "I noticed because I hadn't stolen it before. I would never steal something new."

"Why, because you want to give me the illusion of having my own belongings?"

Mike frowns. "What? No. If it's new it doesn't feel like you, and that's the only reason I borrow stuff in the first place."

Will's hands still in his hair, and his face appears above Mike's, tilted at a bit of an odd angle as he peers down at him. "Oh. That's actually- that's sweet, Mike."

"Yeah, well," Mike mumbles, vaguely embarrassed, as Will goes back to braiding. "I notice other stuff, too."

"Pray tell," Will replies, and he's amused now, Mike can tell, as he pokes a playful finger into Mike's neck.

Mike huffs, batting his finger away. "I notice- you," he says, cheeks heating up a little, "I notice when you're upset or annoyed or whatever even if you don't say anything, and I notice when you get a haircut or wear something different or whatever, and I notice whatever songs you've been playing on repeat and all your funny little microexpressions when you're listening to something, it's like I can read every thought as it crosses your mind because it's written all over your face, and- I notice the way you interact with people, the different ways you act around your family versus our friends versus- well, me, but obviously I notice that- and, I don't know. You're very- captivating, you know that? Even when you're just existing as you are."

There's a silence, as Mike chews his lip and stares at the wall, a bit lost in his thoughts, and Will finishes tying off whatever braid thing he was doing.

Then: "Mike, look at me."

Mike tilts his head back as far as it will go, smiling a little hesitantly up at Will, who's regarding him with an odd, intense sort of look. "You- I didn't know any of that," Will says softly, hands sliding from his hair to cup the sides of Mike's face, keeping him in place. "You really- care that much? About me?"

Mike smiles at this, laughing a little and reaching up with one hand to tap Will's nose with a fingertip. "Of course I do, dummy," he teases, as a delicate blush colors Will's cheeks, "You're my boyfriend. I love you."

Will's blush deepens, and he leans over carefully, still gripping Mike's face, and presses an upside-down kiss to Mike's lips. It's soft and sweet, a gentle press of lips and a swipe of his tongue against Mike's lower lip, and Mike's nose bumps Will's chin as he pulls back, pressing another kiss to Mike's forehead.

"I love you too," he murmurs. "Idiot."

They linger there for a beat, smiling at each other, before Will seems to shake himself out of whatever reverie he'd been in and claps a hand to Mike's shoulder. "Come on, let's go see how you look," he says, clambering off the couch and tugging Mike with him, and Mike can't help but wrap himself around Will, a little, as Will drags him in the direction of the bathroom.

"Mike," Will laughs as Mike winds his arms over his shoulders, hugging him from behind and pressing a sloppy kiss to the side of Will's face.

"Will," Mike murmurs, lips still brushing Will's cheek, and Will doesn't protest any further as they stumble into the bathroom, Mike all wound around him and kissing his face over and over.

Then he glances up and catches sight of his own reflection and does a double take. "Holy shit," he breathes, grip on Will slackening as Will smiles at their reflections, winding his arms up to grip Mike's. "I look- nice, or something."

"Or something," Will teases, as Mike examines his profile in the mirror. He looks older, somehow, the angles of his face revealed, and for once there's no hair escaping into his face. Will's braided both sides back, like a crown or something, and tied it off into a bun at the back, and Mike looks- "Pretty," Will says, approving, fingers trailing back and forth over Mike's forearm where it's draped over his chest. "You look- beautiful."

Mike presses closer to him, tilting his head to rest on top of Will's and regarding both of their reflections in the mirror. They look like a real couple, he thinks, which- well, they are a couple, so it makes sense, but there's something about seeing them reflected like this, wrapped up in each other and smiling, that makes something warm and golden settle in Mike's chest.

"Really beautiful," Will reiterates softly.

Next to Will, Mike feels beautiful, too.

[thewriteblrcoven]

The writing project

Note: There are a few writeblrs in this story. The representation of these writeblrs is not accurate to how they truly behave. Please do not take their character in the story as how they are. Each person is an amazing person.

It was a gorgeous afternoon. The sun was shining onto the woodsy clearing and there lay two teenagers just sunbathing. One was a fox with a human body, piercing emerald eyes and black fur where other foxes typically had white patches. The other seemed like a regular human, with brown eyes, and dyed turquoise hair. Except… no, it was probably nothing. The two were very peaceful after such a chaotic morning, but that was in the past. Hatter was doodling while M rambled on about whatever topic came to his mind.

"I feel like... if we were to figure out who was the leader this time, we could prevent another war. Unless Grimfox is just bullshitting about it. I mean it has been around since the third war, so we don't fully know if it is true." M was looking at his partner when his ear twitched. "Someone is coming.”

Hatter closed his sketchbook as he didn’t know who they were. The fox sat up and looked back to see a pigeon approaching, they weren't expecting anyone so this couldn't mean anything good.

M sat in a room alone with the pigeon, who he had heard was named Tea. A detective coming in to fix their disorderly town. Tea and her partner Yesi had brought themselves into something much bigger than them, but that was fine. They would learn one way or another. It wouldn’t affect him.

"Name?"

"People know me as M. That's as much of a name I have."

"Age?"

"17."

M pretended to check his claws, watching the detective record notes during the investigation. The pigeon writing her words in a fluent motion. It was beautiful. As it was now memorized by M; forgery was a craft, not a skill.

"Your handwriting is something else, Detective. Makes me a tad envious, the way your pen glides across the page, every stroke flowing, and not a single error? You seem to dot your ‘i’s’ as an afterthought. It’s calligraphic, really." Tea squirmed a bit as he complimented her handwriting.

“Er- thank you,” she replied. Maybe it was his claws. The pigeon had never been keen on being around predators, minus Yesi, but said wolf had wanted to interview the leader.

“Now, for the interview….” She continued asking the standard questions you asked a suspect for murder. “Where were you at this time?... Who was with you?...Besides the hatter.”

“So many questions, detective— you haven’t even told me what I’m here for.” M looked over at a window to see a raven waiting for him. It pecked the window and waited to be let in. “Would you mind if I put the raven on the writing desk?”

“Sure?” M got up and walked over to the window, opening it with ease. The raven quickly flew inside and landed on the desk before M went back to sit down.

“Where were you at the time?”

“I was in my house, like any other person would be at that time.” Hatter was tapping his hands against the metal table which was annoying the wolf. A quick glance around the room hadn’t revealed anything to the 18-year-old.

“A little bunny told me that you hang around the library downtown. That library happens to be a few blocks away from the murder scene.” This stopped the hatter’s rhythmic tapping. He gave the wolf a sideways look, then resumed tapping.The white wolf stared at Hatter, something about him made his fur stand up on end. But he didn’t act on the feeling.

“Do you know the murder victim Miss Liddell?”

“Who?” M looked confused as his little raven bounced across the desk in glee. A small chirp and peck at M’s paws had gotten the fox frustrated. “If you don-” The raven chirped again and flew on top of M’s head. The pigeon let out a little giggle before getting back into a serious mood.

“Liddell Mcgee,” The pigeon stated before going on to list numerous things about the victim.

“Oh, you mean Alice. I was unaware that they even had a legal name.” M grabbed the raven and placed them back on the table. “But yes, I knew her. Hatter, Alice and I always had biscuits and tea on Sundays and Wednesdays. It’s a shame she’s gone.”

The Pigeon interrupted, “Do you have any useful information?

“No need to be rude, Detective, everyone will get a chance to talk. But, I do know she made plenty of enemies though. She upset the coven quite a bit.”

“What is the coven?”

“The coven has always ruled here. They founded Wunderland and remain fighting to keep whatever ordered disorder we have left. Alice didn’t like that and wanted to change it. She mentioned calling detectives in to try and do that, which I’m guessing that is you and Yesi. But she knew that was a death wish. You don’t try to control the chaos.” The pigeon was writing rapidly, and M allowed her to finish. After all, he was sending a message. “How did she die anyways?”

“Hard to tell, she was set ablaze.”

“Was she doused or?”

“Unsure.”

“Hatter would be able to help you with that. He’s experienced with fires of any sort through accidents and witch burnings.”

“Interesting.” The pigeon had been warned that Hatter loved starting and setting people on fire. It made sense with witch burnings but it didn’t explain why the cops were so concerned about it.

“That’s what happens when you have witch burnings, someone has to light the fire and he needed the money.” M told a partial truth. Hatter did burn people and get paid, but it wasn't for burning witches. But the detective wouldn’t question it, since the town they came from still did witch burnings.

“For what?”

“Food, clothes— you know, the bare necessities. But that is my question limit for the day, so Hatter and I will see you some other time.” The pigeon escorted M and his raven outside where Hatter was waiting. The raven flew off of M’s shoulder and to Hatter with a cheerful croak. The two teenagers walked away into the forest and once far enough away began talking.

“What did they ask?” M looked at Hatter with his emerald eyes.

“The usual detective questions. Where were you when ‘blah’ happened. Do you know who ‘blah’ is. When is the last time you’ve seen ’blah’, that type of thing."

“It seems your interview went better than mine, since the little demon wasn’t distracting you.” M glared over at the little raven who let out a loud playful chirp and what sounded like giggling. “Death, could you go get us some food?” The raven nodded before flying off.

“You remember how you brought Dez to our hangout? Well it turns out the police now know where we stay.” M went quiet, he didn’t know what to think. His feelings were complicated but quickly turned to full manic rage.

“Hatter, get out your book. I need you to map out the entire town with Death’s help and figure out which house is coven. If Dez wants to start something, we will respond with flames.”

M looked over at Hatter and saw a grin grow on his face. M had to smile back, but still, they had only a few hours to figure this out…. Why not kill something to get rid of his rage? After all, some people were dumb enough to follow M anywhere he went.

The kill was indeed messy; the old hare gave chase. The hare ran better than the had fox thought. M licked the blood off his claws and teeth as the craving for flesh kicked in. Something about killing changed him, he became feral yet controlled, and he couldn’t really explain the phenomenon but he didn’t care.

The body was an issue as he couldn’t just leave it there, but burning it would draw suspicion to Hatter since he lied. Hare was thought to be a witch. M moved the body to an abandoned bear cave where he left the body before walking out to the lake.

He quickly washed the blood off his fur before sitting down on the shore. The lake was a beautiful sight, the moon’s beams bouncing off the surface. Not a single cloud in the sky could block M’s view of burning balls of gas that were too far to feel, but close enough to see. It was a peaceful place. Or so he thought as he heard a few footsteps, he picked up on a familiar scent and let out a frustrated sigh.

“Odd, seeing you here.” It was his ex, why did that rabbit have to ruin his plans.

“What are you doing here, Dez? Don’t you have another fox to go cuddle with?” The white rabbit hugged M from behind. The two exes seemed better off than most, but there was always tension underneath their polite front. M wanted to push them off, but he knew Dez had something up their sleeve.

“Don’t you miss the days of us?”

“Memory is a curse more often than a blessing.” M gazed at the lake, this used to be their spot. The tree across the shore still had their names carved in. “I'd rather forget those days than look you in your eyes.”

Dez broke the hug, revealing a red stain in their fur. It wasn’t from M but it gave him everything he needed to know to suspect Dez was clearly up to no good. “I never knew fur turned red.”

“Well mine does, little fox.”

“It’s foz to you Dez.”

“You say blood stain, I say tomato sauce.”

“I never said anything about a blood stain.”

Dez paused at the remark before responding. “We both know you were thinking it.”

“Just like we both know you told the detectives where I stay.”

“Is it really all so bad?” The rabbit leaned closer to the fox, close enough for M to feel his breath ghosting his neck. “Now they know where you are, you can be proven innocent. Isn’t that a good thing?”

“A good thing?” M chuckled dryly. “Yes, it’s such a good thing.” There was a short silence, both of them staring at their reflections. It had been months since their breakup and yet they looked the same on the outside. Dez was clearly doing better off than M, and they loved to rub it in. M on the other hand was hit hardest by it, going colder than he had since his orphanage days.

“I think I’ve stayed past the time I was welcome, so I’ll catch you on the other side of the coin, eh M?”

“I’ll see you.” The rabbit hopped away, leaving M by the lake.

M felt nothing after that interaction when all he wanted to feel was angry. He was angry at Dez for turning against them, but he knew it was going to happen. He couldn’t explain away his hollowness but a soft caw eventually guided him back to Hatter.

Seeing his expression, Hatter immediately pulled him into a tight hug. “I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” These were the words he repeated to his partner. Rocking him slowly, back and forth, rubbing soothing circles into his back until the stress drained out of him.

After a while, he pulled the M away from him to assess the situation. His eyes were slightly swollen and they lacked their usual gleam, but otherwise he seemed somewhat normal. To him anyways. They stood there for a moment, the dark grass meeting everyday mud.

Deciding it was an “in the moment” type of thing, M stood on the tips of his toes and stole a quick kiss.

“Thanks for that.” he’d said as walking off, not clarifying.

Hatter brought a hand to his lips. He smiled.

The second day the detectives weren’t expecting the duo to show up so early. They had just barely gotten started and hadn’t had time to begin to chat about their plan for today.

“We wouldn’t want to keep you waiting detective.” The fox said as the hatter was looking for something, “Justice must be served, and after all I’m sure you heard of the two new bodies?”

“Bodies?” The pigeon looked up and out of her files, obviously shocked there was more death. But what was she expecting in a murder case?

“The mad old hare and poor doormouse. Everyone in town is talking about it.”

“The mouse looks like a malformed android mixed with a dead raccoon.” Hatter added.

“Interesting” The wolf stared hard at M, he had a horrible feeling about the bodies and him being the one to bring it up. Not he nor Tea were informed by anyone, but the police force here was incompetent. Something was off.

“People think that a bear killed the Hare since he’s missing a few parts and just flesh. Who knows what did that to him.”

“Can you allow me and my partner to talk for a bit…” The pigeon paused blanking at M’s name. “Ty?”

“M. Ty is the orange and white fox. I’m orange and black.” M's expression changed at the mention of the other fox, yet he seemed his best to hide the disdain for Ty.

“Apologizes.” And like that the pigeon and wolf separated themselves from the juveniles.

The detectives left M and Hatter alone and came back to the two throwing their raven across the room. The wolf let out a grunt to signal them to stop and frustration grew when he became upset that the two teenagers ignored him. “We can start.”

“Hatter, would you mind taking Death with you?” Nodding, Hatter allowed the raven to hop on his shoulder. In the investigation room, Hatter sat with his legs crossed, hand propped on his chin. It is seemingly a causal, careless gesture, but others thought differently seeing his intense gaze.

“So, we noticed graffiti near Alice's death scene, and were wondering…”

“If I had something to do with it?”

“Correct.” The wolf quickly jotted something down, then returned to staring at Hatter. Yesi’s eyes were filled with distrust and constantly following the teenager. The raven and Hatter had noticed yet remained quiet about the matter.

“Well, I do not have something to do with it,” I have everything to do with it, he corrected in his head. “We believe that we are done here, don’t we Batman?”

“You named your bird Batman?” Yesi asked incredulously surprised at name.

Not answering, they left without a trace. That was when the hitman came. The jabberwocky ran in and began to attack the turquoise-haired teenager. The hitman had gotten him down to the ground and started to pound onto the man while at the same time trying to find their blade.

The raven took flight and began loudly cawing causing even more chaos than before, yet caught the attention of the fox, who was now coming out of their interrogation room.

“Thank you for the session Te-” The fox looked at the raven who had let out a blood curling caw before making an U-turn back towards Hatter. The fox bolted after the raven which caught the attention of the eagled-eyed wolf.

It wasn’t long before M tackled down the Jabberwocky and the two began fighting on the floor, blood spilling everywhere as the Jabberwocky bit into M’s flesh. The fox clawed the scaly skin of the Jabberwocky before the wolf separated the two. A few of the incompetent police officers grabbed M thinking he caused the conflict. The raven began to peck at their hands as they tried to arrest the innocent fox.

Everything was chaotic and it took a few minutes to get it under control, however the detectives saw how the police were quick to pin the blame on M. Was this the case for the murder of Liddell? After all, there wasn’t much evidence. The young adults left heading back to their hiding spot while the detectives detained the hitman. They would deal with it later.

The detectives could not charge the teenagers as it was clear the police unit here was biased against them. Frustration grew high as they were starting to get a lead but the case had to be closed. They couldn’t afford to keep going, it was against their morals.

On the other hand the two bandaged up at the library. M fiddled around with the blade that he swiped off the Jabberwocky. It was an ancient coven weapon that the Jabberwocky couldn’t have gotten his hands on alone.

M had remembered that it had interested a certain rabbit. Dez wouldn’t shut up about the blade. The Vorpal blade was rumored to be from the mouth of a large beast during the first war. It belonged to the Coven leader but at their death was taken by the Elite and lost to time. Grimfox came to take the blade a few minutes later, leaving the two by themselves. Hatter decided to be brave-ish for once, walking up to M and stealing a kiss back. M was surprised and took a second to respond.

“What was that for?” M looked over at Hatter who went back to bandaging the fox. M sat confused and flustered.

“I just wanted to.” The human picked up the fox with ease and took him into their room to rest. M was more surprised by the fact that Hatter didn’t struggle this time, but possibly due to the amount of times Hatter had to recently keep bringing him back to the library. The fox looked at ceiling before slowly falling asleep.

The fox awoke cuddling beside Hatter, he didn’t remember how he ended up there yet he didn’t question it. The turquoise-haired teenager remained sleeping while M got up out of the bed. He gathered some close and began to write, the moonlight being his only source of light into his black notebook. He scrolled through this rambled thoughts of the past and poetry all about the future. He took out a quill and began to scribble into the thick paper.

I cannot express the feelings hidden inside, for the words seem to leave evacuate my mind at the moment of interest. Will a poem do or a gesture of my love? A deep passion like the flames you use to burn our enemies to the ground. I..

The fox slammed his book shut before throwing it across the room out of frustration. His ears twitched before looking over at Hatter who was now waking up. M glared over at Hatter before walking outside the room frustrated at himself. Hatter awoke confused, the man looked over at a clock before stumbling out of the bed in a sleepy daze. He grabbed M’s book and followed the footprints of the fox who was angrily wandering around the basement of the library.

“That leaves out a few things but...” The fox looked outside at the burning world of Wunderland. The town was lit ablaze like he had planned. “..it brings us to where we are now.” The fox gestured to the two detectives as Hatter was busy doing something outside of their view of vision. “It truly is sad that you brought yourself into a war, Yesi. You elitists are all the same.”

The wolf growled under his breath while the pigeon sat confused.

“Elite?”

“Surprised you didn’t tell the person you brought Yesi.” The wolf growled but it didn’t stop M from talking. “The Elite are the enemies of the Coven. Always trying bring their fucked up version of order to Wunderland. But the time for talk has long passed.”

The room went quiet before a blast of fire came through the entrance. M stood through the fire unscathed but Tea and Yesi quickly flitched. White fur started to burn and a few feathers had turned to ash. Tea quickly took to the air while Yesi went on the offense, tackling M and attempting to kill the man. M was no match for the large wolf, but he wasn’t necessarily aiming to kill.

A quick swipe to Yesi’s face had drawn blood and he had become distracted and blinded. Another burst of flames came into the room which allowed M to get the large wolf on the ground. His orange and black fur remained perfect while Yesi’s white fur was starting to blacken due to the fire. M watched the fire on his fur, while Yesi was slowly burning alive. The fox had more important matters to think of.

He had never realized that the fire just sat atop of his fur, maybe he should have taken up potion making. The fox stepped outside to hear the evil laughter of Hatter. Happily burning down houses to their little pyromaniacal desires.

[arathergrimreaper]

So, I was accosted by some self-proclaimed Christian at the laundromat, right?

Keep in mind, I was minding my business as much as I could while waiting on my clothes to dry (forwent putting my earbuds in because it was too much hassle with my journal/sketchbook, my pen case, my bag, etc. and that seems to be how strangers in public fucking GET you so I will cease forgoing forthwith). She just comes up to me and hands me a card with her church and a QR code on it that, according to her, leads to "an important video" I just have to see. Mutuals, followers, cunt-rymen, when I say I never wished to have pyrokinetic abilities to be able to set it on fire in my hand more than at that moment....

Now, idk what tipped her off that I am one of those damned souls she's been indoctrinated to go after rather than doing anything actually fucking useful for the world (i mean, there are several genocides happening at the moment, pick one to help stop, why dontcha?). It might have been my lanyard which is rainbow, or my colored hair/piercings/tattoo, or the fact I was drawing gay aliens kissing but she just wanders over and politely...begins grilling me about where I live, where I work, how old I am, the afterlife, what I believe, if I think of myself as a good person, what would make me want to come to her church, etc (i did not tell her most of these things in any detail and it genuinely bothered me that she was asking. like I got warning bells about the fact she was asking).

Y'all already know what my queer, Pagan witch ass is about. I fucks with y'all. She had no idea, but all the audacity, apparently. Unfortunately, I still had 15 mins on my damn clothes so I had to play nice until I could leave.

She was genuinely surprised when I told her I don't consider myself a good person, nor really care all that much about the afterlife, including if there's a Hell or not. That I don't think you have to be a good person to do good things either. In Hellenic Polytheism, most people don't go to a paradise when they die. Or to Tartarus, unless they truly screwed the pooch somewhere. Elysium is meant for only the most impressive mortals, not necessarily what we would consider "good" in modern times. Heroes and demigods and the like. So, I don't subscribe to getting something necessarily better than this life after I die either. Said I would just be happy as long as there's no capitalism I have to live under when I die. She said 'I don't even know what capitalism is...'. That's when I knew, for certain, I didn't owe her a single damn explanation and started treating it like an interview upon receiving some kind of writing award or something.

She still kept trying to imply that I wasn't taking the threat of Hell seriously, but I also wasn't taking her seriously either. Woman is a teacher! Of little tots! Hope they tie her up with a jump rope on a spindly chair and wheel her ass into the closet. This who is shaping young minds and people really believe that crap about the old bigots dying off--they have already passed their bullshit on and it's running, footloose and fancy-free. Now, I honestly wish I hadn't held back about how much I hope I go to Hell just to beat the fuck outta Reagan.

I have not been able to stop thinking about this interaction and getting mad all over again, guys. Just mad that there are people like that in the world who would come up to anyone and start a theological debate when they aren't causing them a lick of harm. Someone who don't know shit about shit but wants to try and tell me what I should prioritize. People like this are running our country and making up our laws.

We were, like, the biggest mistake.

[sessakag]

I remember you mentioning that used to draw, do you have any art you'd be willing to share?

Compared to what I see on tumblr, my drawings are embarrassing, lmao! I get so frustrated that they don't come out better, then my anxiety starts flaring tf up and omg it's a mess.

Ummm, it's been years since I've drawn anything, I do have a few crummy pictures floating around from like 2016 though.

Hopefully they don't blind you with their ugliness 😅

This pic is from something I saw while listening to a creepypasta on youtube (this creature was in the background) and wanted to try my hand at recreating it lol. I was supposed to do some more shading and stuff, but never got around to it, idk where that sketchbook is anymore either.

This one was just a bit of fun at the time. Guess I had mermaids on the brain :P Ignore the remote, lol. I was drawing on my bed. I remember being so proud of that squid tho! He looked really awesome to me. Still looks good but now it sort looks like a penis, lmao. Wtf.

A not so great unfinished Sesshomaru back in my hardcore SessKag days 😅he doesn't have a shirt on because of course tf not 😍

Here's Bulma. I remember being so frustrated with her facial expression. Just couldn't seem to get it right. Also, her head is big af, idk if that was my fuck up or if it really was that big in the anime, lmao.

Also tried my hand at Vegeta but uhhhh, lol, he came out kinda funny. Nailed that devious 'I'm bout to blow yo whole planet up' smirk though, lol. He look like he bout to do some ol' bullshit.

I have a Naruto sketch somewhere but idk where it is. I'll look for it. Don't have one of Hinata though, I think I quit drawing before I got round to it.

[shameofice]

while annoying to deal with, sako doesn't blame his reaction in the slightest. if someone was talking about his niece like that (although he hasn't seen her in what feels like years by this point), he'd want to kill them.

however, he does not like what he thinks that ford is implying.

there's a lot of things wrong with sako, and he knows damn well that he's not doing much to properly help his situation and all (isolating himself in the woods? not exactly a healthy coping strategy), but he would never stoop so low and become someone like his shithead of an old man. for fuck's sake, he barely likes most people.

"let me make a few things fucking clear," sako starts, brow now visibly furrowed in something that's close to anger but not quite that, because behind it there's something sad about it all, "i'm not currently doing or planning on doing shit to you and your family, because i don't like going around starting problems unless i feel like they're deserved, which right now they're very much not. second of all, i'm not possessing her or controlling her or anything fucked up like that--let's just say i can see really fucking far with this freaky eyes i got in my head because of some bullshit one of my ancestors did in ancient japan and that's about it. you seem like you've seen your fair share of weird shit, so this shouldn't be the weirdest thing you've seen."

something in sako's voice seems off as he speaks the next part as he holds his sketchbook a little tighter against his chest like it could protect him, but it's not an angry or even unsettling kind of off--again, it's that more sad kind of off. "and look, i get that i'm being a massive asshole right now, but even if i wanted to cause problems with you, i would only take them out on you, not your niece or any kids. i'm not...that kind of person." as he continues to speak, his eyes grow hazy and dull--less sharp than before, as if he's looking inward and not outward this time.

it almost feels like the once brash and intimidating man is gone, and was replaced with someone who isn't quite sure what's going on here. instead of sako's shoulders squared back and eyes forward, his shoulders are bunched forward and his gaze now faces somewhere near ford's boots instead of his eyes.

the sako that was just talking to ford isn't here anymore.

"ごめん, ごめん, ごめん," sako's voice starts to repeat, almost like-a frightened child.

how, exactly, the harada clan gained their powers (the eyes can do more than just see things really far away) is something wholly unknown to sako--but it's helped them immensely over the millennia they've been around. with this, the clan rose to great heights, from controlling large swathes of land back in their native japan in the olden days to now dominating the market for electronics and other sorts of tech-y things, all while keeping the reasons as to how they've achieved these on the down low.

now, how one ended up in the woods of the usa a ten minute drive down a dirt road to a little town called gravity falls is certainly an interesting story and a long one to boot. but, it's not a story that sako isn't super willing to tell right now, especially to someone he's just met.

ford doesn't seem like someone so easily intimidated by a couple of words and inconsequential actions, which is a sure sign that he's been through some shit that supernatural forces don't cause his face to even twitch. however, he does react to the mentioning of his niece and he stops all motion, the blob in the jar beneath his armpit swirling like it can sense the distress of its captor.

look --he may be a bastard who generally hates everyone around him and prefers to scare people off by being an asshole or using the powers granted from his heritage, but if there's something sako would never do, it's threatening a child.

(sako was one, once. a helpless child who could only cry.)

"don't--shit, what's that word--don't get your hair ねじれた," sako responds with an annoyed huff, twirling a long strand of inky dark hair around an abnormally pale finger for emphasis. "i only noticed your niece because she was talking about how you're her uncle and you took her grapple gun, that's all." it may not sound the most reassuring, but it's as reassuring as sako's going to get, as his eyes seem to 'sharpen' again. "also, she's--trying to catch a squirrel with a net gun."

is it just sako, or are kids getting weirder? not that he cares--kids should be allowed to be as creative as they want to be, within a good reason.

there's a pause, then he sighs, adjusting his hold on his sketchbook. "look, i don't want any trouble, and i won't cause any for you unless you start it, alright? you're welcome to keep chasing strange things around if they get on my property, but just be careful with anything that ends with 'gun,' and we're fine." getting nailed in the head with a grappling hook gun is not something sako really wants, or anyone else wants, for the matter.

[descendantofthesparrow]

Touch starved - Harry Hook x reader - Oneshot

blame @hanas-headcanons​ for this yall 

=

Harry-being from the isle, didn’t grow up with normal affection, the most you got physically was fist bumps, baps on the head, punching each other as hard as you could (for funsies~) and the very rare; pats on the back.

Yeah…isle kids didn’t get much affection growing up, leading many many to be touch starved. Such as the C4; Mal would smack at and basically hiss at anyone that tried to touch her that wasn’t Ben or her friends, only to actually melt into Ben’s arms when he hugged her gently. Evie thrived on physical affection, taking every chance she got to huddle up to someone she was close to. Jay loved being just-squished, happy to be the pillow or mattress. Carlos was the most-skittish of the three- he preferred gentle touches and soft hugs, preferring to be the one laying on Jay instead of being under Evie or Mal.

So Harry ended up being…adverse to touch, he didn’t like it, plain and simple. Only people close to him had permission to touch him, Uma and his sisters being the few with that permission. Then he met you, a bright, affectionate, cheery sunspot that suddenly crashed into his life when he arrived in Auradon.

You were just a quiet thing, sitting in the back of the class with your nose buried in your sketchbook. whenever the teacher called on you; you knew the answer, not even looking up from your art. He didn’t know what had drawn him to you, maybe it was that comforting personality you had, maybe it was your soft smile, or maybe it was that you had never judged him for all his mental bullshit.

He just one day realized oh, there you are; as you were laughing about your stupid joke about pirates. That was the day he admitted to himself tha the had fallen in love. He had confessed soon after, and realized you might be a bit more work than he thought, not in a bad way but-you were and are an EXTREMELY affectionate person, he could tell you wanted to hug him when he told you his feelings, but you settled for taking his hands and shaking them about. He felt a little bad, one of the huggiest girls at Auradon prep and she ended up with the one dude who hated hugs.

He remembered telling you so before you really even became friends ‘I hate hugs. Never got em never wanted em’ he could feel the pity coming from you, or maybe it was just sadness in general. “you’ve never been hugged?” you had sounded so broken, as if just the thought hurt you to the core. But after you got together, you compromised, you could do whatever you wanted with his hands, hold em, play with em, anything, just-don’t hug him without a week's warning.

But one day,  Harry was fully distracted, and you were too, bouncing around the room hyped up from your art project being accepted for the nautical art competition, leaping towards Harry and into his arms, laughing as he went stone still; snapped out of his daydream.

“oh, crap-im so sorry Harry! I got so caught up in my emotions and-and” you started to pull away, face flushed in embarrassment before Harry held you tight, practically melting into your arms “Harry?”

“where ‘ave ye been all me life” Harry grumbled, his arms around your waist tight and unbreakable, he-he was hugging you. “fuck” you beamed, realizing Harry-liked- your hugs. You quickly held him again, rubbing your face against his head, giggling as he gasped and snuggled into you “fuck” you laughed louder, oh he was just so cute. “pirate puddle” you teased as Harry muttered curses, his cheek smushed into your shoulder as he pressed his hands to the small of your back. One of your hands started to run through his hair, your fingernails scratching his scalp and Harry felt as if he was going to melt right then and there. He let out a garbled mess of noises and you tilted to the side, landing on his bed and continuing to giggle as Harry practically crawled into your lap, every ounce of his weight being pressed against you. “yeh can hug me whenever ye’ want, jus’ lemme know it’s you first” Harry mumbled, sounding very sleepy, as if just your touch was comforting enough to put his mind at ease to sleep.

You nodded against his head; your lips pressed to his forehead “promise! Promise.” Harry hummed, happy at your response, and moved his face to press into the crook of your neck, smiling against your skin as you giggle at the feeling “told you; hugs are great”

“should’ve listened”

“yep yep”

-end~!-

again, blame Hana for this, they messaged me about touch starved Harry this morning and i just-HAD to, ive been wanting to write TC’d Harry for a while anyway so this just gave me the excuse, gonna do more with different situations, i just wanna see/read Harry fucking shake and melt when (y/n) holds his face for the first time 

permtaglist!

@queer-cosette​ @sephiralorange​ @lunanight2012​

@daughter-of-the-stars11​ @musicarose​ @rintheemolion​

@random-thoughts-003​ @imtryingthisout​ @remembered-license​

@thecaptainsgingersnap​ @verboetoperee​ @saryguerrero​

@reallysparklychaos​ @thetrueghostqueen​ @dai-tsukki-desu​ 

[blue-pastel-cat]

Xiaobedo Fanfic Recommendation

Welcome to my personal “if you are new to xiaobedo peeps please read these” list. As said before this is my personal list so please feel free to reblog/comment/hit me for not including any gem here. I might miss a lot of them because I am drunk or blind. (mostly have them on my to read and then forgot as I am being assault by real life shit).

I would like to say first that so far there are 150+ Xiaobedo fics on Ao3. I can’t review all of them but I can say that I have read a majority of them. Most of them are just pure love and I would like nothing more than a thousands thank you for all the fic writers who spent their free time writting these gems for us to read for free. But these...these takes the cake as it finds a special landing spot in my heart that I would just thrust them into someone’s hand if they say “I am new to this ship can you recommend me?”

1. Orange dust by bobamilkteas (Wes)

In which Xiao learns to open himself up to the world a little more after the collapse of Rex lapis's contracts but it was not always easy for a soul doomed to eternal damnation. Meanwhile, Albedo liked to tempt fate where the extraordinary are concerned.

If only the traveler's comrades are made of saner bunch.

Comment: Long ago when I like both Albedo and Xiao as a character, I was wondering hmmm....will anyone actually even write about them lmao they never met each other. I am surprise to see this one as the 3rd fic in the whole 3 Xiaobedo fic on Ao3 (yeah back when there’s literally only 3 fic for this couple). I was like I’ll read it for the curiosity, I’ll probably won’t ship them. And that people is how I put my clown make up on my face upon finishing reading it. This ONE fic alone convert me into a devotee of Xiaobedo. Please consider joining me in this circus if you want to know what is Xiaobedo. I would put this as the first of my “Big 3″

Orange Dust also come with its compliation of short stories over the course of the game and a big sequel to it. Please also consider reading ALL OF THEM.

2. Solar Wind by birdpriestess (Sparrow)

For the yaksha, his duty was his life, and his life was his duty. No human could ever hope to understand the eternal war he fought out of sight and in silence.

So why, then, did he feel that Albedo would understand?

---

Finding himself at death's door once more, Xiao is saved by a surprising person, setting off the unlikeliest of adventures.

Comment: Do you like crying? Do you like the feeling of getting your heart ripped into pieces as the author destroy your emotions over the end of each chapter as the story picked up the climax? Yeah, this one is for you masochists. The action, the characterisation, the drama THE EMOTIONS OH WOW. I kid you not that it was so good I read this while workinng when I am not suppose to me. Also, this fic has my favourite characterisation of Gold ever. I love that dramatic queen Mad Alchemist. AND DAIN. I LOVE DAIN IN THIS FIC. Our dearest Sparrow manage to toy with our feelings like how I bully ruin guard for big numbers lmao. This is the secound of “Big 3″ of my Xiaobedo list.

Again, just like Orange Dust, Solar Wind comes with its own compliation of short stories of what came after that. Please also consider reading ALL OF THEM.

3. Castle of Glass by AlchemicalStardust (Morgie) 

A black shadow rises over Huaguang Stone Forest. Caught in the wrong place at the wrong time, Albedo flees the shaking ground and the crash of boulders tumbling form the sky. As the dust settles, Albedo finds a young man – an Adeptus – amidst the carnage. Despite the karmic agony ripping his body from the inside, Xiao’s only question is “How?” How did a human survive after witnessing his battle?

Comment: The last of the “Big 3″ of my Xiaobedo list. And it is still on going! Castle of Glass? More like I AM IN A GLASS CASE OF EMOTIONS! Have you read a fic about 2 people yearning, longing, reaching out for each other so damn well that you just want to throw your phone in the air as they both had their impending doom coming down upon them? Yeah this is one of them. You will like want to be stuck in the moment they express how much they just yearn for each other’s love and care that you want to shake the author for what comes next. Like...everytime Morgie update I am expressing my gratitude at the end of the chapter by writing on Xiaobedo discord “MORGIE COME HERE AND LET ME BONK YOU WHY ARE YOU ENDING IT THERE”

trust me when you read you will def feel the same. With just Big 3 and their compliation alone that would give you like a LONG list of reading already LMAOOOOOOO

4. Find a place to call it home  by yamajiroo 

Our room, he said. Xiao’s brow twitches. Zhongli never said anything about this. But then again, perhaps he should anticipate this from the beginning...

Xiao looks over at Albedo, who is now tilting his head, his look as innocent as ever.

“Are you not okay with sharing a room?”

Comment: College AU for Xiaobedo! One thing that I love this is the slow burn and what made me LOVE LOVE LOVE this fic more is how cute Klee is in this fic. Their relationship in this one is very simple, but that simplicity highlight why their chemistry work. Xiao is someone who was just very gentle, who was largely misunderstood by his lonesome nature. Albedo was someone who like peace and quite in his introvert bubble. And how they respect that bubble that each other has actually made their relationship work. I love it when fic highlight this and this one captures it.

5. I Can't See Your Face From the Other Side of the Classroom by MissWeaver  

When Albedo and Xiao unexpectedly start eating lunch together, they begin to find that they have more in common than anyone would have realized. They both struggle in their own ways with blossoming feelings, too many assignments, and annoying classmates as they navigate a relationship for the first time.

Comment: I’ll be honest, I usually hate high school au just because its so cliche. I don’t even watch and drama/anime surrounds high school student anymore LMAOOO (unless it’s very good). So if there’s an high school AU that I actually keep come back and read after a couple of chapters, it means that the cliche that I hate wasn’t there or barely was there at all. The pinning in this fic makes me want to bang their head together sometimes LMAOOO The tag wasn’t kidding when they said both Xiao and Albedo are bad at feelings. Also that’s a lot of heart broken caused by these two idiots XD

6. new world, same me, same bullshit  by  bobamilkteas (Wes)

At the belly of Dragonspine, Albedo lost control to the festering corruption that permeated his senses and watched, from the recesses of his mind, as his devoured body turned his allies into enemies. Before his rampage reached its climax, he is sealed in a crystalized confinement by the last hand of Reindottir, where he then reawakens centuries after, in a rebooted Teyvat.

Comment: Yeah I know it was list in Orange Dust but here me out. This sets out in an entirely different universe. And if you like Polyamory, this one has Zhongli joining the duo and I love it because I also love ZhongXiao with my life. Time Travel is my biggest kink. Especially when I am the person who love it when people explore Archon War era/ Alatus!Xiao. So this one hits double of my kink. Of course it is still on going and I will bully Wes whenever I can to see that new chapter. Albedo is a total fucking badass in this story and I completely agree from using him in Abyss so often. Everyone should write badass Albedo.

7. misplaced heart of mine by  inkburn           

“If you are ill, then you should be resting at home. In Mondstadt.” He emphasized Mondstadt with a pointed look in his direction.

“I assure you I won’t be troublesome, Adeptus Xiao,” Albedo said, “You’ll find I’m a rather low-maintenance traveler.”

“Travel,” Xiao scoffed, “without airstep?”

Albedo looked him up and down. “Are your legs just for decoration?”

(albedo is sent to liyue on mandatory vacation. xiao is his unfortunate bodyguard.)

Comment: Most of the time you will see Albedo and Xiao starting their relationship with one of them taking interest in another. But this one took another approach, they starting off by make them hating each other’s guts LMAOOOO and I live for every second of it. There’s only 1 chapter so far but wow it was SOOO GOOD. I am really really excited for next chapter and is waiting patiently ;w;

8.  Blossom of Grace  by birdpriestess  

One day in Liyue Harbor, Albedo watches a street performance by an enigmatic dancer named Xiao. And he becomes completely obsessed.

Comment: Have you ever look at Xiao fight and thinking that he’s one of the most beautiful deadly thing ever? How it was like he was dancing around the battlefield? How about actual dancer Xiao being so absolutely beautiful and perfect and that slow burn of Albedo falling in love with that beauty with a touch of Modern AU and cute Ganyu as the Wing woman. Yes, Sparrow delivers yet again another beautiful slow burn and while it’s still ongoing it is worth the read.

9. i think we could make this work (could get used to this) by outspaced               

“Xiao? What are you doing out here?”

“I—”

“It’s raining,” Albedo says, as if it isn’t obvious. “You could get struck by lightning.”

“What are you doing out here then?” Xiao does the only thing he knows how to do, he challenges Albedo. “It’s raining.”

Albedo just hums. “If I get struck by lightning, it’s for science.”

Comment: A short one-shot where I read the summary and went “This is it... this is their relationship.” I am sold immediately. Oh god Albedo why are you like this.

10. Ephemeral by criedprinz        

“It’s not for your investigation, is it?” Aether asked mildly.

Albedo traced a finger around the sketchbook, considering the question. “No,” he admitted finally. “I... I just want to see them again.”

He opened the sketchbook to reveal the drawing he’d just finished. Aether nodded, clearly recognizing the sharp golden eyes.

“Xiao,” he said. “You were rescued by an adeptus.”

When a visit to Dragonspine goes horribly wrong, Albedo is rescued by an unknown stranger, wielding powers he's never heard of. Led on a search to find out who it is, he finds himself in the middle of an unforgettable encounter..

Comment: A really really well written one-shot that I love. The yearning oh godddd the yearning from Albedo side is just so so much that I have to put it here. (I think you can see the trend here lmao. I am a sucker for yearning). And the moment they get to meet each other again is just chef kiss. MWHAA

11. Idle Yaksha, Brilliant Yaksha by Pit0fTheEarth

Alatus didn’t have a lot of responsibilities to keep. He spent most of his days dancing across the sky and eating away all nightmares that plagued a person’s sleep.

But one fortunate encounter led to too many unfortunate ones, taking his carefree existence and plunging it in darkness. His wings, stripped from him. His gentle touch, replaced by an unforgiving grip of destruction.

There was a lot of blood on his hands. With each passing moment, it became harder for Alatus to recall the last time someone gently held him.

Comment: This is one of the ongoing fic where I am very very much excited on the take of Naberius. And the way the author portray Xiao when he’s still the innocent Alatus is just *clench fist*. Baby ;w; Baby why do you have to lose all that innocence. Also the fic has long LONG flashback to Xiao past and his relationship with Naberius. We are unwielding more what happened to both of them and why perhaps does this have to do with Albedo.

That’s it for now, might add more later! Thank you <3

[astronomoney]

IDK if you're still taking requests or not, but the latest fix on D. Wayne was 😍🥰. For part 2 can you add the prompts 11 from fluff, 6 from angst and 20 from neutral pretty please?🥺🥺

Pairing: Damian Wayne x fem!reader (age 16ish)

Prompts: Prompt list ☁︎11- “Hey hey hey, it’s ok i’m here. It’s just me ok, you’re safe.” ᜊ6- “I don’t care about you anymore.” “i’m starting to think you never did.” ⚛︎20-“Please be quite, i can’t even hear myself losing my will to live.”

Summary: After the fight you had with Damian things have been tense but sometimes bottling up your emotions only make things worse (i can’t do summary’s to save my life) enemies-to-lovers because i’m a sucker for that shit

Warnings: Blood, swearing, kinda character death i guess, Damian being a dick as always, angsty teens being angsty teens

A/n: this is a part 2 but you can find part 1 here once again this took waaaay to long to write literally i could not figure out what to do but whatever because i did it and i’m proud of myself for it (Masterlist)

Word count: 3k jeez these are getting longer

Tag list: @battlenix @pleasestophoney wow look at that multiple tags

Part 1

Love and War pt2

Spending spring break in Wayne manor had its ups and downs. Ups included a huge library in the south wing, delicious homemade meals every day, and the best water pressure you’d ever experienced. The downs included 8 hours of training daily, getting lost while trying to find a bathroom, and having to spend way too much time with your arch enemy.

Technically he's not your enemy. At least he’s not supposed to be. After the fight you had last week you couldn’t be sure. You’d had fights with Damian before but this felt different. Usually after a fight he'd sulk for a few hours but then it would go back to normal, but this time it didn’t go back to normal. Damian had been avoiding you for almost 8 days.

You knew the fight ended too soon and you both had more to say but if he was going to act like a child and ignore you then you weren't going to stop him. You still had to patrol with him but it was considerably quieter. The manor was big enough for the both of you and after a few days you'd figured out his schedule and how to get around him. Tim let you train with him, so as long as you stayed on your side of the gym and Damian stayed on his you didn't have to interact with him at all.

It wasn't until the 4th day of break that you had to talk to him. Bruce had to go meet with the league for the day so training ended early. You had a couple hours before dinner and decided reading would be the best use of that time. You walked down one of the many hallways lazily dragging your hand along the wall until you reached a door. You couldn't remember exactly where you were but you were about 75% sure there was a couch in this room, so you pushed the door open.

Inside you found tall ceilings paired with dark wallpaper, a tall window with the thin white curtains pushed out of the way, and a couch. Actually it was three couches but after 4 days staying here you'd gotten used to the large number of furniture that was there for no reason.

The couches formed a square with the open side facing the window lined wall. The first two couches were empty but when you stepped farther inside the room you saw someone sitting on the third one. Of course the one room you picked to go into also happened to be the one room Damian was sitting in. He looked up from his sketchbook and immediately frowned.

There were two options in front of you. You could back out of the room and leave him be but then you'd be backing down from something that might not even turn into a fight which made you seem weak so really you were left with only one choice. You straighten your back and closed the door behind you, officially leaving you in a room alone with Damian for the first time since the fight. You walked over to the couch facing the windows head on and sat down on the side farthest from him. He watched you the whole time but you paid him no attention, instead you simply opened your book and began reading.

You felt his eyes leave your form and you let out a quiet breath. You heard a page turn and a  pencil being dragged lightly across paper. It had been over a week but nothing seemed to be getting better between you and him. Patrols were a nightmare beforehand but now that he'd switched from constant criticism to almost no comments you found that you preferred the former.

Damian's pencil against the paper was the only sound in the room and yet the silence seemed so loud. You hated it. You hated having to avoid him all the time. You hated not being able to talk to him anymore. You hated how far away he felt even when he was right next to you. Above all you hated that you didn't hate him as much as you used to.

You never realized how much you talked to him until you didn't. It was a weird feeling to miss someone when you hadn't even known you cared about them. You honestly just wanted to apologize and let things get back to normal but as you sat there staring at your book you couldn't bring yourself to say anything.

After three to many nightmares where Damian got hurt, you finally realized how badly you needed him back. So you took a deep breath, swallowed your pride, opened your mouth, and prayed to god that something would come out.

"Look-"

"Damian-" you both spoke at the same time. "Sorry, you go first." You apologized.

"No you can go first." He replied almost nervously. That couldn't be right, he never got nervous.

"Uh I was just going to say, well i've been thinking lately,"

"You?" He asked sarcastically.

"Oh haha really funny. Will you just listen for a goddamn second." He was not making this easy. "I know we haven't been talking much ever since, well you know and uhh." You couldn't find the right way to word it. You were still too stubborn to outright apologize but you knew he would never say sorry unprompted. "You've just seemed... off, lately and if it has something to do with me-"

"It doesn't." He cut you off. "I'm not 'off' and even if I was you definitely wouldn't be the cause." His expression was blank but calculated.

"Well jeez you don't have to be so rude about it." You sneered back at him. "What were you trying to say anyway." So much for your apology.

"I've convinced father to change our partners." His voice was flat and he seemed bored with the conversation.

"You what?" You stood up. You couldn't believe he actually did that without talking to you first.

He stood up as well and was a few inches higher than you. "We don't work well together, you can't tell me you don't agree."

"I don't! We've been a great team! Remember the Penguin pen raid or Mr Freeze's death ray thingy." you exaggerated your point by waving our hands through the air. "We stopped those. Together. You can't just go around changing things without asking me first!" You were fuming.

"Sure I can! We only stopped those villains because of what I did, you just got in the way." he pointed at you.

Here we go again, the blame game. The endless cycle of 'he did this she did that'. You were so sick of it. "That's bullshit and you know it. I can hold my own on the field just as well as you can. And you know what! I don't even want to be your partner anymore."

"Neither do I! You can go play hero with someone else while I do all the real work. I never wanted you on the team in the first place!" He stared you down and if you weren't so fired up you'd probably be intimidated.

"God you're so annoying!” You threw your hands up in frustration. “You think you're so great and no one can even come close to you but in reality you're exactly like the rest of us!"

What were you doing? This wasn't what you wanted. You wanted to apologize and make things right but now here you were screaming at him again. You almost couldn't help it. Fighting him gave you a sort of rush that you craved. It was like a drug and you were addicted to the pain. You didn't want to fight him but it was the closest thing to a conversation you'd had in over a week and at this point it was enough to satisfy your need.

"I'm going to prove that i'm better than you. I'll do it on my own too!" You told him.

"Go ahead and try! You can do whatever you want because I don't care about you anymore."

You stepped back, stood as tall as you could without going on your tiptoes and took a breath. "I'm starting to think you never did." You said calmly, it seemed to catch him off guard and he didn't retaliate. You grabbed your book and turned towards the door. Dick was standing there, completely still and staring at you and Damian.

"Woah." He said awkwardly. He clearly didn't know how to handle the situation he'd just stumbled on.

You pushed past him and into the hallway. Tears were building up in the corners of your eyes so you had to move fast, the last thing you needed right now was for them to see you cry. 

Damian watched you walk out before turning around and groaning. "I can't believe her," he muttered to himself. "I'm starting to think you never did. That doesn't even make sense."

"Because... you do care about her?" Dick asked. It probably wasn't the best choice of words.

Damian looked back at him with an almost offended expression. "That's ridiculous! I don't care about her, that was basically the whole point of our conversation."

"Was that a conversation? The part of that 'conversation' I saw seemed more like her yelling at you and then you... yelling back." He stated the obvious.

"That was completely her fault," Damian defended. He seemed angry but it wasn't his usual kind. Usually it was directed at someone or something and usually that thing would get acquainted with his katana but this time he was mad at himself and he couldn't understand why. "I don't care about her." He repeated quietly almost trying to remind himself more than anything.

You spent the rest of the day hiding in the guest room. You planned on staying there forever and letting yourself fade out of existence but the universe had other plans. 3 hours, 5 episodes of your favorite show, and a nest made of blankets later you got a call from Tim asking you to come to the cave.

He didn't tell you why he needed you, he just said to meet him in the lower level of the cave so when you got there you were very surprised to find him and Damian standing in the hallway. You groaned internally and considered turning around and just walking away but Tim spotted you before you could. Damian's back was to you so he didn't know who it was until he turned around and you saw his face fall.

'Nice to see you too asshole' You thought to yourself, walking over to stand near him but still keeping your distance. "What did you need?" You asked, wanting to get out of there as soon as humanly possible. You kept your eyes ahead trying not to look at Damian and you had the feeling he was doing the same.

The entire mood of the dimly lit hallway had shifted from the moment you locked eyes with him and the tension was noticeable. Tim looked between the two of you before clearing his throat and bringing the attention back to him. "I actually don't need anything."

"So then why did you call telling me to come down here?" Damian asked, clearly annoyed that Tim was wasting his time.

Tim smirked in response and opened the door before Jason, who was behind you apparently, pushed you both into the room before either of you could react. You landed on top of Damian with a grunt. Once you realized you were on top of him you felt your cheeks turn red and you stood up quickly. You could have sworn you saw the slightest bit of a blush on him but you were too preoccupied with the now locked door to think about too much.

"Ok love birds here's the deal, you're petty hormone fueled fighting is driving us crazy and now we're doing something about it." Jason told you from the other side of the small glass window. "We said you were gonna lock you in a room until you figured out how to get along and now we're following through." he smirked.

"I swear to god if you lock me in this room with him,"  you motioned towards Damian, "I will drop kick you into the sun."

"If you let us out now maybe I won't kill you," Damian threatened alongside you.

"Maybe if you’d learned to talk to each other like normal people you wouldn’t be here in the first place," Tim said. "We'll be back after patrol so you've got about," he looked at his watchless wrist "4ish hours. Have fun." And with that they both walked away.

"DON'T YOU DARE WALK AWA- and they're gone. Dammit." You cursed and hit the steel door which hurt a lot more than you thought it would. "Shit," You shook your hand.

"Well that was just stupid," Damian scoffed at you, taking your hand to examine it. He always did that sort of thing on patrol so you didn't pull away or even really register what he was doing.

"Oh i'm sorry, is my frustration not smart enough for you?" you sneered back. "What even is this place anyway," You looked around the small dark room, determined to not look him in the eyes.

"A containment cell for metas, we haven't used it for a while so the power blockers are probably turned off." he told you before releasing your hand. "You definitely bruised it but you'll be fine."

You reluctantly thanked him and turned back to the door to see if you could get it open somehow. "Ok so how do we get out?"

"We don't."

You flipped around, surprised to hear him give up without even trying. "You're kidding right? There's gotta be some way out of here. We're superheros, a few walls can't hold us,” you exclaimed. “Can't you use those ninja skills you're so proud of and like... kick it down, or something?" You watched him walk to the back of the small cell and sit down on the floor.

"No," he replied simply. "This room was built to hold the most dangerous people in Gotham and I don't know if you've noticed but we don't have any of our gear." He glared at you and you rolled your eyes.

"So we're just supposed to wait here until they get back? We can't just sit here all night," You tried to convince him to do... anything really.

"Well if you're so keen on getting out then let's hear your genius plan," He leaned forward with all the smugness of billionaires son, daring you to say something.  "That's what I thought. Now will you please be quiet, I can't even hear myself losing my will to live."

"Fine whatever we'll just stay here in complete silence," You muttered sarcastically under your breath. Damian remained quiet as you started pacing back and forth but you could tell he was watching you.

After pacing for about 30 minutes you realized how tired you were from training so hard the past couple of days and sat down in the corner. You spent so much time over the last week worrying about Damian that you hadn't let yourself relax long enough to get any real rest. The little sleep you did manage to get mostly turned to nightmares.

At first you didn't even realize you were asleep. It all looked real enough except for the fact that you'd somehow been transported to a rooftop. You scanned your surroundings but everything was just slightly out of focus so you couldn't tell exactly where you were. When you turned around you saw him. Damian was there, and behind him was a shadowy sort of silhouette.

The shadow raised a knife and you realized what was happening. You tried to warn him, you tried to scream or yell or move but it was no use. The knife plunged into Damians back and you were helpless to stop it. You felt the pain he felt, you felt the blade slice through you. Finally you could move again but it was too late. The shadow disappeared but you didn't care about it, all you wanted to do was get to Damian. You ran forward but it was like running through water, your body moved in slow motion and you watched the blood start to pool underneath him.

Suddenly you were falling. Damian was gone, the roof was gone, everything was gone, it was just you and a black abyss trying to swallow you up. You screamed again but no noise came out, it was like all the air was being sucked from your lungs. It was silent and dark and empty nothingness until you saw a faint light. Then you heard something, your name being repeated, someone calling you and then you were pulled out of the void.

You shot up and gasped for air and frantically looked around but your eyes hadn't adjusted to the light yet. You heard a familiar soothing voice pulled you farther out of your trance.

"Hey hey hey, it's ok i'm here." The voice was calm and concerned at the same time. "It's just me ok, you're safe," Rough hands gently turned your head and the first thing you saw clearly was a pair of worried green eyes. You're breathing slowed and you're heart nearly skipped a beat.

Wrapping your arms around his chest you pulled him closer. He hesitated for a moment before folding you into his embrace. It was soft and delicate and it seemed like he was scared of holding you too tightly. Neither of you said anything else, you just sat there on the floor of a meta containment cell in each other's arms.

Time stood still and you finally admitted the truth to yourself. The real reason you hated Damian was because you loved him.

A/n: might fuck around and make a part 3 with the classic “because i love you!” confession scene

[the-ship-maker-2]

Hi I'm so sorry I'm disturbing you but may you do a creepypasta match with me I'm sorry if I got the wrong person but I'll add my details

I have medium dirty brown hair(it grows so fast so I cut it)

My eyes look blue or a greenish blue or full grey I have a small cut on my nostril from a cat growing up and I'm sorry if this is a sad part. My parents growing up always fought and kinda traumatized me making me a sucidal wreck and a depressed female as a child and my mom always pointed out how big my chest is which honestly caused many insecurities I'm 20-18 now so looking back it was a very bad family home and made me extremely scared of meeting new people and shy

Likes

Toys

Plushies (I love them since as a kid they always comforted me especially the soft ones)

Cuddles (never been in a relationship just seems nice)

Hugs

Ruffling my hair

Dressing up ( I kinda liked it as a kid and I guess it still affects me now)

Art

Horror books

Dislikes

My insecurities

My body (I'm underweight if someone looks at my torso you would see my ribs immediately and even touching my arm gently you feel my bones)

Getting hit hard enough to trigger childhood trauma

Feeling useless (I'm sorry it's just been a bad time)

Being abandoned

My chest (it was mentioned earlier I'm sorry)

I'm sorry if it's alot

You're doing just fine. I'm sorry all that happened to you. Parents can't get anything right smh 😔. But you're not bothering me and you've come to the right place. It's been awhile since I've done a match up so bare with me here.

Anyways I match you with...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Laughing Jack (LJ)

You got lucky with this clown. LJ loves playing with your hair and he'll even cut it if you want him too but I don't think that would be a good idea. He also always asks to do staring contests with you but really it's just an excuse to stare at your beautiful face. He can't get enough of it. From the way your eyes fluctuates between blue, greenish blue to gray or taking in every part of your features like that scratch on your nostril. And he always wins.

LJ hates hates hates that you went through all of that. No one as amazing as you should ever had to go through that and you deserved better. He will never argue with you or at the very least keep them from escalating. He may be a children's toy but from his many many years of being around he sort of understands how trauma works. He's very glad that you didn't end yourself otherwise he would never have had the glorious luck of meeting you. Even in your depressive sate he'll stop at Nothing to make you laugh and smile just once. After all being a clown is what he does best he was literally made to bring joy to a child. It won't make the depression go away but it makes it a little bit better for the moment.

LJ is literally a child's toy plus he has a whole carnival he can give you toys and plushies galore. You literally have a whole room of plushies just for you. He was ecstatic when he found out you liked art, dressing up and horror books. He even combined the two and gave you horror coloring books and sketchbooks. He even gets you dresses. Although they make you look like a doll but it's the thought that counts.

LJ will not have any of that insecurity bullshit. He can and will find a way to make you see that all of your insecurities are things that he likes about you. He loves your body just the way it is. If you want to change it in a healthy way then he will do all he can to help. He will never hit you. He also hates feeling useless and abandoned so he understands completely. But with a lot of reassurances from the both of you I promise you you'd never have to be alone ever again when you're with him ❤.

Feel free to ask again!

[kmclaude]

Forgive me Father, I have no awful headcanons for you, only a general question on comic making. How do you do it, writing-wise/how do you decide what points go where, how do you plot it out (or do you have any resources on the writing aspect that you find useful?) Not to get too bogged down in details, but I attended a writer’s workshop and the author in residence suggested I transfer my wordy sci-fi WIP into graphic novel script, as it might work better. (I do draw, but I don’t know if I have it in me to draw a whole comic—characters in motion? Doing things? With backgrounds? How dare, why can’t everyone just stand around looking pretty)

I was interested but it quickly turned into a lot of internal screaming as I tried to figure out how to compress the hell out of it, since novels are free to do a lot more internal monologuing and such compared to a comic format (to say nothing of trying to write a script without seeing how the panels lay out—just for my own sake, I might have to do both concurrently.)

As an aside, to get a feel for graphic novels I was rereading 99RM and was reminded of how great it was—tightly plotted, intriguing, and anything to do with Ashmedai was just beautifully drawn. I need more Monsignor Tiefer and something something there are parallels between Jehan and Daniel in my head and I don’t know if they make sense but it works for me. (As an aside, I liked the emphasis on atonement being more than just the word sorry, but acknowledgment you did wrong and an attempt to remedy it—I don’t know why that spoke to me the way that it did.)

I thought Tumblr had a word count limit for asks but so far it has offered zero resistance, oh well. I don’t have much else to say but on the topic of 99RM, Adam getting under Monsignor’s skin is amazing, 10/10 (about the Pride picture earlier)

wow tumblr got rid of the markdown editor! or at least in asks which means the new editor probably has no markdown....god i hate this site! anyway...

Totally! So first, giant thank you for the compliments! Second, I have a few questions in turn for you before I dive into a sort of answer, since I can give some advice to your questions in general but it also sounds like you have a specific conundrum on your hands.

My questions to your specific situation are:

did the author give any reason for recommending a, in your words, "wordy" story be turned into a graphic novel?

is the story you're writing more, like you said, "internal monologuing"? action packed? where do the visuals come from?

do you WANT it to be a comic? furthermore, do you want it to be a comic you then must turn around and draw? or would you be interested in writing for comics as a comic writer to have your words turned into art?

With those questions in mind, let me jump into the questions you posed me!

Let me start with a confession...

I've said this before but let me say it again: Ninety-Nine Righteous Men was not originally a comic — it was a feature-length screenplay! And furthermore, it was written for a class so it got workshopped again and again to tighten the plot by a classroom of other nerds — so as kind as your compliments are, I'm giving credit where credit is due as that was not just a solo ship sailing on the sea. On top of that, it got adapted (by me) into a comic for my thesis, so my advisor also helped me make it translate or "read" well given I was director, actor, set designer, writer, editor, SFX guy, etc. all in one. And it was a huge help to have someone say "there is no way you can go blow by blow from script to comic: you need to make edits!" For instance, two scenes got compressed to simple dialogue overlaid on the splashpage of Ashmedai raping Caleb (with an insert panel of Adam and Daniel talking the next day.) What had been probably at least 5 pages became 1.

Additionally, I don't consider myself a strong plotter. That said, I found learning to write for film made the plotting process finally make some damn sense since the old plot diagram we all got taught in grammar school English never made sense as a reader and definitely made 0 sense as a writer — for me, for some reason, the breakdown of 25-50-25 (approx. 25 pages for act 1, 50 for act 2 split into 2 parts of 25 each, 25 pages for act 3) and the breaking down of the beats (the act turning points, the mid points, the low point) helped give me a structure that just "draw a mountain, rising action, climax is there, figure it out" never did. Maybe the plot diagram is visually too linear when stories have ebb and flow? I don't know. But it never clicked until screenwriting. So that's where I am coming from. YMMV.

I should also state that there's Official Ways To Write Comic Scripts to Be Drawn By An Artist (Especially If You Work For A Real Publisher As a Writer) and there's What Works For You/Your Team. I don't give a rat's ass about the former (and as an artist, I kind of hate panel by panel breakdowns like you see there) so I'm pretty much entirely writing on the latter here. I don't give a good god damn about official ways of doing anything: what works for you to get it done is what matters.

What Goes Where?

Like I said, 99RM was a screenplay so it follows, beat-wise, the 3-act screenplay structure (hell, it's probably more accurate to say it follows the act 1/act 2A/act 2B/act 3 structure.) So there was the story idea or concept that then got applied to those story beats associated with the structure, and from there came the Scene-by-scene Breakdown (or Expanded Scene Breakdown) which basically is an outline of beats broken down into individual scenes in short prose form so you get an overview of what happens, can see pacing, etc. In the resources at the end I put some links that give information on the whole story beat thing.

(As an aside: for all my short comics, I don't bother with all that, frankly. I usually have an image or a concept or a bit of writing — usually dialogue or monologue, sometimes a concrete scene — that I pick at and pick at in a little sketchbook, going back and forth between writing and thumbnail sketches of the page. Or I just go by the seat of my pants and bullshit my way through. Either or. Those in many ways are a bit more like poems, in my mind: they are images, they are snapshots, they are feelings that I'm capturing in a few panels. Think doing mental math rather than writing out geometric proofs, yanno?)

Personally, I tend to lean on dialogue as it comes easier for me (it's probably why I'm so drawn to screenwriting!) so for me, if I were to do another longform GN, I'd probably take my general "uhhhhhh I have an idea and some beats maybe so I guess this should happen this way?" outline and start breaking it down scene by scene (I tend to write down scenes or scene sketches in that "uhhhh?" outline anyway LOL) and then figure out basic dialogue and action beats — in short, I'd kind of do the work of writing a screenplay without necessarily going full screenplay format (though I did find the format gave me an idea of timing/pacing, as 1 page of formatted script is about equal to 1 minute of screentime, and gave me room to sketch thumbnails or make edits on the large margins!) If you're not a monologue/soliloque/dialogue/speech person and more an image and description person, you may lean more into visuals and scenes that cut to each other.

Either way this of course introduces the elephant in the panel: art! How do you choose what to draw?

The answer is, well, it depends! The freedom of comics is if you can imagine it, you can make it happen. You have the freedoms (and audio limitations) of a truly silent film with none of the physical limitations. Your words can move in real time with the images or they can be a narrative related to the scene or they could be nonsequitors entirely! The better question is how do you think? Do you need all the words and action written first before you break down the visuals? Do you need a panel by panel breakdown to be happy, or can you freewheel and translate from word and general outlines to thumbnails? What suits you? I really cannot answer this because I think when it comes to what goes where with regard to art, it's a bit of "how do you process visuals" and also a bit of "who's drawing this?" — effectively, who is the interpreter for the exact thing you are writing? Is it you or someone else? If it's you, would you benefit from a barebones script alongside thumbnailed paneling? Would you be served by a barebones script, then thumbnails, then a new script that includes panel and page breakdowns? What frees you up to do what you need to do to tell your story?

If I'm being honest, I don't necessarily worry about panels or what something will look like necessarily until I'm done writing. I may have an image that I clearly state needs to happen. I may even have a sequence of panels that I want to see and I do indeed sketch that out and make note of it in my script. But exactly how things will be laid out, paneled, situated? That could change up until I've sketched my final pencils in CSP (but I am writer and artist so admittedly I get that luxury.)

How do I compress from novel to comic?

Honest answer? You don't. Not really. You adapt from one to another. It's more a translation. Something that would take forever to write may take 1 page in a comic or may take a whole issue.

I'm going to pick on Victor Hugo. Victor Hugo spent a whole-ass book in Notre-Dame de Paris talking about a bird's eye view of Paris and other medieval architecture boring stuff, with I guess some foreshadowing with Montfaucon. Who cares. Not me. I like story. Anyway. When we translate that book to a movie any of the billion times someone's done that, we don't spend a billion years talking at length about medieval Paris. There's no great monologuing about the gibbet or whatever: you get to have some establishing shots, maybe a musical number, and then you move tf on. Because it's a movie, right? Your visuals are right there. We can see medieval Paris. We can see the cathedral. We can see the gibbet. We don't need a whole book: it's visually right there. Same with a comic: you may need many paragraphs to describe, say, a space station off of Sirius and one panel to show it.

On the flip side, you may take one line, maybe two, to say a character keyed in the special code to activate the holodeck; depending on the visual pacing, that could be a whole page of panels (are we trying to stretch time? slow it down? what are we emphasizing?) A character gives a sigh of relief — one line of text, yeah? That could be a frozen panel while a conversation continues on or that could be two (or more!) panels, similar to the direction [a beat] in screenwriting.

Sorry there's not a super easy answer there to the question of compression: it's a lot more of a tug, a push-pull, that depends on what you're conveying.

So Do I Have It In Me to Write & Draw a GN?

The only way you'll know is by doing. Scary, right? The thing is, you don't necessarily need to be an animation king or God's gift to background artists to draw a comic.

Hell, I hate backgrounds. I still remember sitting across from my friend who said "Claude you really need to draw an establishing exterior of the church at some point" and me being like "why do you hate me specifically" because drawing architecture? Again? I already drew the interior of the church altar ONCE, that should be enough, right? But I did draw an exterior of the church. Sorta. More like the top steeple. Enough to suggest what I needed to suggest to give the audience a better sense of place without me absolutely losing my gourd trying to render something out of my wheelhouse at the time.

And that's kinda the ticket, I think. Not everyone's a master draftsman. Not everyone has all the skills in every area. And regardless, from page one to page one hundred, your skills will improve. That's all part of it — and in the meantime, you should lean into your strengths and cheat where you can.

Do you need to lovingly render a background every single panel? Christ no! Does every little detail need to be drawn out? Sure if you want your hand to fall off. Cheat! Use Sketchup to build models! Use Blender to sculpt forms to paint over! Use CSP Assets for prebuilt models and brushes if you use CSP! Take photographs and manip them! Cheat! Do what you need to do to convey what you need to convey!

For instance, a tip/axiom/"rule" I've seen is one establishing shot per scene minimum and a corollary to that has been include a background once per page minimum as grounding (no we cannot all have eternal floating heads and characters in the void. Unless your comic is set in the void. In which case, you do you.) People ain't out here drawing hyper detailed backgrounds per each tiny panel. The people who DO do that are insane. Or stupid. Or both. Or have no deadline? Either way, someone's gonna have a repetitive stress injury... Save yourself the pain and the headache. Take shortcuts. Save your punches for the big K.O. moments.

Start small. Make an 8-page zine. Tell a beginning, a middle, an end in comic form. Bring a scene to life in a few pages. See what you're comfortable drawing and where you struggle. See where you can lean heavily into your comfort zones. Learn how to lean out of your comfort zone. Learn when it's worth it to do the latter.

Or start large. Technically my first finished comic (that wasn't "a dumb pencil thing I drew in elementary school" or "that 13 volume manga I outlined and only penciled, what, 7 pages of in sixth grade" or "random one page things I draw about my characters on throw up on the interwebz") was 99RM so what do I know. I'm just some guy on the internet.

(That's not self-deprecating, I literally am some guy on the internet talking about my path. A lot of this is gonna come down to you and what vibes with you.)

Resources on writing

Some of these are things that help me and some are things that I crowd-sourced from others. Some of these are going to be screenwriting based, some will be comic based.

Making Comics by Scott McCloud: I think everyone recommends this but I think it is a useful book if you're like "ahh!!! christ!! where do I start!!!???" It very much breaks down the elements of comics and the world they exist in and the principles involved, with the caveat that there are no rules! In fact, I need to re-read it.

Comic Book Design: I picked this up at B&N on a whim and in terms of just getting a bird's eye view of varied ways to tackle layout and paneling? It's such a great resource and reference! I personally recommend it as a way to really get a feel for what can be done.

the screenwriter's bible: this is a book that was used in my class. we also used another book that's escaping me but to be honest, I never read anything in school and that's why I'm so stupid. anyway, I'd say check it out if you want, especially if you start googling screenwriting stuff and it's like 20 billion pieces of advice that make 0 sense -- get the core advice from one place and then go from there.

Drawing Words & Writing Pictures: many people I know recommended this. I think I have it? It may be in storage. So frankly, I'd already read a bunch of books on comics before grabbing this that it kind of felt like a rehash. Which isn't shade on the authors — I personally was just a sort of "girl, I don't need comics 101!!!"

Invisible Ink: A Practical Guide to Building Stories that Resonate: this has been recommended so many times to me. I cannot personally speak on it but I can say I do trust those who rec'd it to me so I am passing it along

the story circle: this is pretty much the hero's journey. a useful way to think of journeys! a homie pretty much swears by it

a primer on beats: quick google search got me this that outlines storybeats

save the cat!: what the above refers to, this gives a more genre-specific breakdown. also wants to sell you on the software but you don't need that.

I hope this helps and please feel free to touch base with more info about your specific situation and hopefully I'll have more applicable answers.

[duvetsandpillows]

Lucky One

Pete Davidson x Reader 

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Swearing, mention of needles, slight angst, drug use

A/N: This is my first Pete fic but I think I will definitely be writing more. Please let me know what you think!

I sat in bed, joint in one hand, lighter in the other. I’d been staring at the wall for the past half hour or so, drowning in my thoughts, forgetting the joint I’d been fiddling with was there to be smoked.

I was thinking about everything and nothing all at once. Have I taken my antidepressant? What do they do with the bagel holes? You’re gonna be alone forever. Don’t forget your earring is behind the back left leg of the desk. New thoughts beginning before the last one could end. I was exhausted yet I hadn’t done anything to warrant feeling so drained. I’d only left my bed to piss.

“Hey you home?” I glanced over at my door, reality setting back in, before realizing how messy my bed was; sketchbook and pencils scattered everywhere, weed crumbs and ash from not paying attention to what I was doing and empty monster cans. I kicked as much as I could off the end of the bed before putting the long forgotten joint to my lips and sparking it. The door slowly opened, Pete standing in the doorway holding a bag and a coffee.

“Whatcha doing in bed B?” he asked climbing into the bed handing me the coffee. I took a toke and thanked him while passing him the joint.

“I just don’t feel like moving. I feel like shit, my brain won’t stop for just a second. I just want everything to stop.” My voice breaking as I began to fight back tears. He blew smoke into the air, putting his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side, handing me the joint.

“Breathe B, you’re gonna be okay. I know that sounds like bullshit but I’m here to help you through it.” I took a take and wiped a stray tear from my eye. “It’s always been me and you hasn’t it, that’s not gonna stop now. Did you take your antidepressant today?”

“I can’t remember,” I squeaked, letting the tears win the battle. Pete put his other arm around my chest and squeezed tight, resting his hand on the back of my head and rubbing his thumb.

He would whisper little pick me-ups every few minutes while I cried. “At least you didn’t walk straight into a street light like I did.” I looked up to see him pointing to a small bruise on his forehead. “I saw a woman carrying a dog in a baby sling thing and then boom! Street Light.” I giggled before taking a deep breath and wiping my tears with my sleeves.

“I guess you could say she threw you off your rhythm.” He rolled his eyes and pushed my head playfully before chuckling.

We’d been friends practically our whole lives, yet it was rare for us to talk about deep shit. Not because we didn’t care but we were good at talking each others minds off all the bullshit. 

“Movie, smoke, munch? I brought gushers and twizzlers.”

“Only if I get to pick.”

“Obviously, you always pick.” I scoffed and sat up, rolling my eyes.

“Bullshit, we constantly watching The Mule.”

“Not my fault you can’t appreciate a masterpiece,” he said as he grabbed my rolling tray from the end of the bed and I began flicking through Netflix for something to watch.

“Your hair looks nice by the way,” he mumbled, eyes focused on rolling the joint. I glanced over at my reflection in the mirror, I looked as if I’d just climbed out of the hedge. I smiled and thanked him, deciding to put on Knocked Up.

Pete told me what he’d been up to all week and who the guests were gonna be while we watched the film. I made him a twizzler ring and he attempted to make me a bracelet but he couldn’t work out how to get the knot to stay tight.” After a couple more joints I sat up on my knees and faced him.

“Could... I maybe colour in your tattoos?” I asked, placing my hand on his leg to stay balanced, realizing how high I was after not moving for so long.

“Yeah of course, which one first?” I smiled and pointed to the unicorn on his arm and leant off the end of the bed to grab my pens, Pete grabbing hold of my foot as I almost fell off. After I’d finished the unicorn I moved onto the direwolf underneath. Pete was flicking through the pages of my sketchbook as I added icy blue to the eyes.

“Y’know,” he started, passing me a joint, “I reckon you could be a tattoo artist. You could even practice on me.” I stopped and looked at him a bit taken back.

“I’ve never thought about it before.”

“Maybe you should.”

Once I finished the direwolf I looked up to see Pete had dozed off, I smiled and pulled a blanket over him, moving the sketchbook off his lap. I rolled a joint and glanced at the open drawing of a group of clouds I’d been working on but hadn’t yet worked out what should accompany them.

I thought about what Pete said and picked up the sketchbook and a pencil. I smoked while drawing Frank the bunny’s head from Donnie Darko. It was my favourite film and Pete had watched it with me countless times.

After an hour or so I finished the outline and most of the infill with different shades of blue. I felt Pete roll over and put his arm across my lap. I looked down to see him, eyes half open, observing my drawing.

“That’s amazing.” His voice gruff and low.

“Thank you,” I said passing him a monster from my bedside table. He sat up partially and took a sip before handing it back to me. “Good nap?” He nodded and laid back down into my side.

“You should put that on me,” He kicked his leg out from under the blanket and pointed to the side of his thigh. “Here would be perfect.”

“If you’d like.” He sat up again and gently tore the sketch out of the book.

“Come on then.” I frowned and tilted my head slightly. “There’s a guy that could do this now, you could get one too?”

I stared at him in a bit of shock, not expecting him to actually want one of my pieces on his body. I thought he was saying it just to be nice. Also as I’d never considered getting a tattoo before. Not because I didn’t like them but more because I was nervous; I wasn’t great with needles and if tattoo’s would suit me.

“You up for it?”

“What if I look awful with one?” I blurted, Pete’s smile morphed into confusion.

“Why would you look awful?” You always look great.” I could feel my cheeks getting warm and I couldn’t help but ever so slightly smile. “Plus I think you’d look hot with one,” he mumbled handing me the sketchbook, open to a small drawing of a sheep I’d done high while watching Shaun the Sheep.

“It’s small, if you want it to be hidden then it’s easy.” I looked down at the doodle and thought about it for a moment.

“Fuck it lets go.”

I sat on a chair next to Pete watching as the tattoo artist, Jon, carefully traced over the light purple outline in dark blue ink. I began adding to my sheep. A few clouds in the background, similar to the ones on Pete’s.

“What you doing?” I handed him the paper, glancing over at his leg, in awe at how it was turning out. I looked back at Pete who was smiling at the drawing. I held out the pencil to him, when he didn’t notice I poked his arm with it.

“Ow, dick,” he said pouting and rubbing his arm. “What am I meant to do with this?”

“Add something to it, you got a piece of me,” I pointed to his leg. “Your turn.”

“I can’t draw like you and-”

“And I don’t care. Draw.”

While Pete drew, not phased at all by the needle going in and out of his leg, I chatted with Jon, asking him question about how he became a tattoo artist and what it’s like. I was slowly becoming more interested the more I watched him work. Once he was done he turned to me.

“You ready?” he asked, I nodded nervously and Pete passed him the design. Pete swapped places with me after taking a look at it in the floor length mirror. I decided to get it on my arm as I decided I wanted to always be able to see it now Pete had added to it. I told them I didn’t want to see it until it was finished, wanting Pete’s addition to be a surprise. I looked over at Pete, nerves starting to kick in a little.

“Have I ever told you I’m not brilliant with needles?” He chuckled and took my hand in his.

“Yep,” I winced as the needle hit my skin. “Like the time you gave blood because you thought that nurse was cute and threw up all over him before fainting.” I chuckled before biting the inside of my cheek and gripped his hand tight. “You’re good, just keep your eyes this way,”

Pete kept chatting with me and rubbing his thumb on the back of my hand, keeping me distracted from the pain.

“Should I be nervous with what you drew? It’s just clicked how much trust I’ve given you.” He pursed his lips, holding back either as smile or a laugh. “Pete...”

“Nah nah nah, it’s not that bad, but you said to add a bit of me. Trust me you’ll love it.” I raised my eyebrows before gripping his hand again, feeling a muscle in my arm unintentionally spasm.

“You’re good, it happens sometimes, we’re almost done here.”

After ten more minutes it was all done and he was wiping it up. It was aching it a little but I was really excited to see it.

“You ready to see it?” I nodded and looked at my arm to see the best tattoo I could imagine. The clouds were a beautiful combination of greys and whites, my sheep now with a spliff in its mouth and a second, slightly wonky looking, sheep with a spliff also in its mouth and sunglasses on. It kind of looked like a child drew the second sheep but I loved it even more for that.

“I put our initials at the bottom so we don’t forget who is who.” I giggled looking at his scruffy handwriting underneath. “So... what do you think?”

“I fucking love it!” I said wrapping my arms around him hugging him as tight as I could. “Thank you Pete.” I pressed a kiss to his cheek and let Jon wrap my arm up in cling film.

We grabbed some Taco Bell on the way home, I was designated DJ and he driver. I was, questionably, rapping along to Colson and Corpse’s new song while Pete laughed at me. He slipped his hand into mine, giving it a small squeeze and continued driving and started rapping along as if that was a normal for us to hold hands. I smiled and gave his a squeeze back even though I was a bit shocked. Shocked but yet it felt normal.

“You can roll the next one, my arm aches,” I said flopping onto my bed.

“Is that gonna be your excuse for the next week?” 

“Did it work?” I looked up to see him shaking his head and chuckling as he picked up the rolling tray.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” I smiled and winked as it sat up. 

“You’re lucky too, you get to look at this cute face all the time.” Pete leant forward and took my hand, pulling me into his lap.

“What would you say, if I asked you out... to dinner or something?” I wrapped my arms around his neck and furrowed my eyebrows.

“What like a date?” His smile and confidence drained from his face immediately and I had to force myself to hold back a laugh.

“It doesn’t have to be no, I just- aw fuck.” I started pissing myself laughing, holding onto him tight to keep my balance.

“Yes I’d love to go on a date, if you hurry up and roll that joint, I teased winking at him, swinging myself off his lap. “I’ll even put on The Mule yeah?”

“I’m definitely the lucky one.”

[the-lord-of-the-things]

Lord, how did you start learning art? I love your style and idk why I've never told you that? I'm trying to start drawing again and it's coming along like pulling teeth, and advice, I think I need to go back to traditional. Also- I'm sending as an ask so I can praise your art in public lol.

LMAO ty ty The silly answer is just keep drawing a lot and don't stop till its good, and while there's honesty there I acknowledge its not helpful What really helps me improve on the other hand, I think I can give a more productive answer step 1 is to find something I'm really passionate about drawing a lot, historically for me it's been media like FFXIV and Fallout: New Vegas, but it could be anything really. Find a subject that tickles the brain in a good way so you've got inspiration to start working. and 2. is to study references. There is no cheating in art, this isn't a test. Even trace stuff if you want. So long as you're not taking credit for someone elses work, anything you do for practice is completely fair game. Its about training your eye to know what something is and is not supposed to look like. I strongly recommend starting with irl photo references especially for people to get a feel for things like proportions and how bodies work. A lot of my best work has been done from photo references for tricky poses, and afterwards I end up taking lessons from the experience to apply to un referenced work. Otherwise, don't sweat too much about developing a 'style', just draw what you think looks nice in that moment, a style will develop organically. As for traditional specific advice- colored pencils or pencil lead if you prefer mechanical pencils is your friend if you can get them for sketches you want to draw over. I also prefer to draw on printer paper instead of in a sketchbook because it helps me draw more bullshit I'm not attached to, which is one of the best ways to improve cause then you're not bogged down in tryna put something nice in a sketch book.

otherwise just. keep at it. even if it looks like shit, even if its hard, if you keep at it you can look back at it and go damn look how much I improved. drawing should be Fun first and foremost.