#i have some sketches and doodles in the works from over the last couple years i just do not have the time to finish it up because school :(

[cosmosully]

aftermath

[bitchlessdino]

pane-ting you a picture

An @camandemstudios winter collaboration Pairing: wonwoo x gn!reader Genre: romcom, fluff, slight angst Word count: 6.1k rating: pg tags: Artist!reader, shorter!reader, mentions of food, mentions of jobs loss, mentions of loneliness, snowed in, penpals, yearning, slice of life Summary: Snow is beautiful—when you’re not trapped in it. After days of relentless snowstorms that left your family without electricity—let alone entertainment—you found an unexpected refuge: sketching on the condensation of your windows. What began as idle doodles soon turned into shared exchanges with someone in the neighboring cabin. Though you don’t know who they are or even what they look like, the icy walls and snow couldn’t keep them out your head. author note: thank you @highvern @haologram @gyuswhore @lovetaroandtaemin with brainstorming, banner development, and finalizing this very fluffy piece of work for me. I hope that everyone that reads enjoys. Happy holidays 💗

Tag: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han @camisun93 @emmmui @toruro @jeonride @novalpha @nvmrljk @feat-sun @tinkerbell460 @aaniag @tacosandbitch @kyeomiis @wonwooz1-blog @horanghaezone @stagefrjghts @pantumin @aaniag @mochisdayone @gyuguys @idubiluranghae

You expected the holidays to feel lonely this year—just not in the way you imagined.

Instead of the dreaded reality of working through Christmas again, like you had the past couple of years since moving away from home, you’ve found yourself right back where you started. Living with your parents, grappling with the weight of feeling like you failed at adulthood. Paying the bills had become a distant fantasy, leaving even your dreams to taunt you with the craving for a livable wage. It all became too much—and yet somehow, not enough. Moving back home felt like the only option left.

Your parents were thrilled, to say the least—ecstatic, even—to have their eldest back under their roof, having the whole family under one roof again. But for you, it wasn’t the homecoming you had envisioned. You had hoped to return someday with something to show for your time away, some proof that you’d made it on your own.

To mark the occasion, they planned a family getaway, a trip to the mountains surrounded by endless snow. It had been years since the last time you did anything like this together, long before the separation. You had looked forward to it—briefly—until the melancholy of the weather seeped into your chest the moment you arrived. The “lots and lots of snow” your parents had promised quickly turned into an unavoidable obstacle.

Not even a day after you settled in, the whole unit was told that the power had gone out in all the nearby cabins. A widespread blackout had left you stranded in the middle of nowhere, with snow flooding the roads to the nearest businesses. It would be a while before you could even dream of grabbing a snack or anything hot that wasn’t water or those sickly sweet instant hot chocolates.

And now, you were starting to remember just how hard it could be to live with your family again—especially under such trying circumstances. The constant back-and-forth over the tiniest matters, the unsolicited lectures about concepts that were commonsensical, and now the pitying glances. Worse yet were the relentless offers from your parents to set you up with jobs through their friends. If you had to hear about mom’s friend, Barbara, needing an office assistant at her day care center again, you feared you’d lose it.

The weight of it all was becoming harder to bear. Overwhelm was no longer a passing feeling but a constant companion. Your only reprieve was retreating to your bedroom, a cramped space with a single window that came off cozier than anticipated.

You were grateful to have a space of your own again after going without it for as long as you did. If there was one thing you had loved about living alone, it was the solitude—even in the brief moments when your roommate was out. At least then, you could find ways to entertain yourself. Sadly, one of those distractions, your sketchbook, was left behind in the city, abandoned alongside your ambition, your will.

You resorted to tracing shapes in the frost on your windows, the delicate squeak of condensation yielding beneath the pad of your finger the only sound breaking the serene stillness around you. Through the fleeting transparency of your doodles, once tracing the outlines of distant mountains, you spotted another cabin buried under just as much snow as yours.

Curiosity piqued, you press your hands against the cold glass, wiping away the condensation for a clearer view. A window in the other cabin stood nearly parallel to yours, like a portal into another world just out of reach. Before you could even imagine what might lie beyond, a hand suddenly slammed flat against their glass, startling you—a moment straight out of a horror movie.

You nearly yelp but quickly clasped your hand over your mouth to stifle the sound, regaining confidence to look back at the window. Through the neighboring window, the figure with a blurry mop of dark hair began tracing something in the rapidly forming frost. A sloppy ‘hello’ took shape on their side of the glass—backward, but unmistakable.

You chuckled at the sight, assuming the person on the other end was some bored kid, just as restless and bored as you were. Deciding to play along, you traced a reply—a proper, right-sided ‘hello’—before adding a smiley face for good measure. It was a lighthearted exchange, the wholesome moment making you genuinely grin for the first on this trip.

‘Name?’ you drew on the glass, the letters quickly fading as the frost crept back.

‘Wonwoo,’ appeared in shaky but right-side-up letters this time. You couldn’t help but smile at the effort. ‘You?’ they added beneath it, their hand pausing as though waiting with bated breath.

Your finger hovered hesitantly over the fogged-up window as you traced your name, watching the letters slowly take shape. There wasn’t much time to second-guess your decision before they replied with a simple, ‘Nice,’ making it harder to regret it.

Though it was hard to decipher much of what they were trying to communicate, one thing was clear: they loved to talk. And talk they did through endless doodles and barely decipherable scribbles against the glass, turning this serendipitous encounter into a game of charades. From your side, though, most of it looked like nonsense.

Still, it didn’t matter. You were having fun—exchanging prolonged moments with an unseen stranger on the other side of a different window.

A moment stretched into minutes, hours, even days. Long enough that it no longer mattered who was on the other side—though, judging by the look of their hands, it was definitely no kid. Slowly but surely, you found yourself starting to see them as a friend, a routine while you were stuck in the depths of snow.

‘Dinner?’ You’d ask one night, depending on the dim lighting powered by solar energy, listing up the shadows that would lift the surface of Wonwoo’s window.

‘Spaghetti,’ he replied, adding a clumsy doodle of noodles on a plate. ‘You?’  

‘Beef stew,’ you answered, following it up with your abstract attempt at drawing a cow.  

‘LOL, COW?’  

‘Yeah, why?’  

‘Kinda sucks.’  

You scoffed, a grin spreading across your face at the unexpected insult. ‘Rude.’  

‘Honest...pretty bad.’  

You couldn’t help but laugh, enjoying these exchanges far more than you expected. The two of you had learned to condense your conversations into quick, simple words, racing against the frost that always made its speedy return. But that made your efforts more of a game, adding a bit of challenge to an otherwise simple conversation.

Your parents were starting to notice how much time you spent cooped up in your room, often calling you out for quality family time—which, in your opinion, you were already doing enough of stuck inside. They seemed to see your alone time—if you could call it that—eating time away at their opportunity to bond. Even your sister, normally so self-involved, had begun making remarks, wondering if the downfall of your life in the city affected you now to have you become such a recluse.

Still, a small part of you wondered if they had a point. Maybe you were spending a bit too much time at the window. But if you were being honest, talking to Wonwoo had become addictive. It was turning into a deliberate decision—to spend every available morning, afternoon, and night tracing words and shapes on the frost, granted the time allowed it.

What began as a way to cope with the isolation, a means to burn through the endless hours, had become a light in the pit of your self-loathing and your emotional turmoil. The more you learned about your mysterious pen pal, the more you found yourself wanting to meet him, eager to put a face to the distraction that took your mind off the snow and things beyond.

“The snow’s finally letting up, sweetie. Why don’t we take a trip to the grocery store, hmm?” Your mom’s hand rested gently on your back, her warm, soothing tone wrapping around you like a blanket.

You glanced at her, your features softening at the tender smile she offered. “Why about Jan?” you suggested, nodding toward her bedroom door, knowing it awaited your sister past it. “She might want to go.”

“But I want you to go.” Her voice had that unmistakable motherly insistence. “I think it’ll do my baby some good to get some fresh air. You can take Dad’s car.”

You hesitated, your gaze drifting toward the window as curiosity tugged at your thoughts. What might he be doing now that the weather was finally clearing? You’d waited for a response, wondering if his family had roped him into another board game or if he was outside, just as your mom was trying to get you to be. Either way, you missed him—but perhaps not enough to keep waiting around.  

“Sure,” you said with a small sigh. “Why not.”

The roads were still rough but manageable, and it was admittedly refreshing to see more than just the endless expanse of white that had dominated the past few days. The sun beamed down, its warmth seeping into the interior of the unheated car, a welcome change from the cold.

The grocery store sign loomed ahead, bright and almost obnoxiously loud against the snow-covered landscape as you eased into the parking lot. As expected, the place was bustling with an influx of customers eager to take advantage of the forgiving weather. Every aisle seemed occupied—parents with children, couples, or solo shoppers—shuffling between essentials and indulgences to make the most of their outing.  

You clutched the list your mom had handed you, systematically rummaging through shelves and coolers, tossing the requested items into your cart aisle by aisle. You were almost finished, having gathered just about everything your family needed, when something unexpected caught your eye.  

In the kid’s toys section, tucked between vibrant miniature trucks and rows of Barbie dolls, a single sketch pad stood out. It was plain but familiar, similar to the one you had lost so long ago. It would be useful in your attempts to communicate with the neighboring cabinet and perhaps revive a passion that you were quick to give up then.

You decided to inconspicuously maneuver your cart closer, as subtle as one could with its squeaky wheels, and reached for the pad as you moved away from the cart. At that same moment, another hand landed on it, fingers brushing the cover in perfect synchronicity with yours.

You met his eyes, shielded by a single pair of eye frames, but nonetheless deep and warm. His hair, a dark and familiar but common shade of black, fell slightly over his forehead as the two of you crouched face-to-face. Rising in unison, the sketchpad still clutched between you, you offered a polite smile.  

“Sorry, but do you mind letting go? I found it first,” you said with as much civility as you could muster.  

“Not to be rude,” he replied, his voice low and mellow, “but I’m pretty sure I saw it first. We just happened to grab it at the same time.”  

“Ha. Well, I wouldn’t know that, seeing as all I saw was my hand reaching for it.”  

“And that’s why spatial awareness is so important,” he pointed out casually. 

You sighed, feeling an almost tangible heat simmer behind your temples. “Look, I think it’d be really kind of you to just let me have this—”  

“And what if I don’t?”  

“It’s a sketchpad, not water, not batteries, not a ham radio. A sketchpad. They’re a dime a dozen.”  

He raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge glinting in his eyes. “Then why don’t you go find another one?”  

“Because it’s here, and I happen to need one.”  

“As do I.”  

“Well,” you huffed, “I’m an artist.”  

“As am I.”  

You groaned in exasperation, tightening your grip on the pad. “This isn’t going anywhere.”  

“Agreed.” His expression shifted, resolute yet calm, his features almost annoyingly defined and symmetrical. “I take the sketchpad, and you find something else.”  

“You—” You stopped yourself, drawing a deep breath, trying to suppress the steam threatening to escape your ears.  

He chuckled softly, the sound light but deliberate, as if enjoying the minor conflict he’d stirred. When you opened your eyes, his slight smile met you—subtle but undeniably captivating, his amusement as clear as the sky was blue, free of storm clouds.

“There has to be a way for you to give this up,” you said, attempting to negotiate. “What do you want?”  

“For starters,” he said, nudging the sketchpad in your hands with insistence, “this.”  

“What else?” you pressed, rolling your eyes. “Something you’d want in exchange.”  

He paused, considering, his large hand still gripping the sketchpad like it was a lifeline. “How desperate are you for this notebook?”  

The hairs on the back of your neck stood as you instinctively took a step back. “I’d like it very much…”  

“Why do you look scared?”  

“Why are you behaving creepy?”  

“Creepy?” he echoed, sounding almost offended.  

“Well, what else am I supposed to think when you ask questions like ‘how desperate are you’ over something as mundane as a sketchpad? I should be running away screaming right now.”  

“But you’re not,” he pointed out smugly. “Because of this so-called mundane thing.”  

“Well, it’s all I want,” you said firmly. “So.”

“Fine,” he said, his tone shifting. “I’ll tell you what. I’ll let you have it—”  

“Really?” You perked up in excitement.

“—if…”  

“…If?”  

“If you draw me.”  

You blinked at him, utterly baffled as you repeated after him. “Draw you?”  

“Yeah,” he confirmed, shrugging as if it was an easy task. “Draw a picture of me, and it’s yours.”  

You stared at him, skeptical. “Are you some kind of egotistical maniac who makes people sketch his portrait before killing them?”  

He scoffed. “No. I’m just bored. You said you were an artist, didn’t you? Seems fair. Besides, we’ve got time to kill. Draw me.”  

You eyed him cautiously, weighing whether this sketchpad was truly worth lingering in the presence of this weirdo—an undeniably good-looking weirdo, but a weirdo all the same.  

“What? Worried about the ice cream melting?” he teased.

You shot him a glare before snatching the sketchpad from his grip as he finally relented. “You want a profile or full body?”  

“Full body, of course.”  

“Of course, you do,” you muttered, rolling your eyes.  

After finishing your purchases and loading up your cars, the two of you set off in search of a private, scenic spot. The cold bit the sliver of skin that was exposed, and the snow crunched beneath your feet as you trudged through the frosted terrain. Fortunately, you stumbled upon a small clearing, tucked away and shielded from the relentless winds. The landscape, blanketed in untouched snow and dappled with soft sunlight, offered a rare moment of peace, tranquility—perfect for capturing the stranger in his essence.

"Wow," you murmured, stepping out of your car and taking in the breathtaking scene before you.  

"Wow is right," the stranger echoed, towering over you in his thick winter coat, a snug layer of wool wrapped around his neck and top of his head. His presence felt larger than life against the serene backdrop, a picture-esque image. A perfect muse. "Almost feels like a waste, setting all this up for little ol’ me. But hey, not my problem."  

He unraveled his scarf slightly, the crisp air brushing against his now-exposed features, sharp and striking in the natural light of the beaming sun. Casually, he settled onto a rock perfectly positioned in the clearing, leaning back as if it were a throne made just for him.  

“Your call,” he urged, flashing a playful grin. “Draw me like one of your French girls, Jack.” 

You let out a soft chuckle, taking a few steps back to put some distance between you and your subject. With the pencil you’d serendipitously scavenged from your car, you raised it to eye level as if you were a seasoned artist with half an idea of what they’re doing, squinting slightly as you angled it toward him, pretending to search for the best perspective to capture his features. “I have a feeling you’re gonna be hard to work with.”

“Only if you're doing it wrong.”

Finding your stance, you began visualizing his figure on the first page of your newly acquired sketchpad. You focused on the broadness of his shoulders beneath the thick fabric of his coat and the subtle shift of his boots scuffing the snow. He remained still with little effort, making him all the easier to sketch.

“You’re getting my good side, aren’t you?” he asked, his grin nonchalant, but clearly amused as he adjusted his scarf towards the direction of the wind.

“I met you today. How am I supposed to know which side is your good side?”  

“Well, I figured you’ve been looking at me long enough to figure it out.” He leaned back slightly. “But that’s a trick question—all my sides are good sides.”  

You shook your head, shading in a bit of shadow on the outline of your sketch. “You’re insufferable,” you commented, not looking up.

“Well, God is fair.” He sighed exaggeratedly, his breath visible in the crisp air. “If I were humble too, I’d be too perfect, don’t you think?”  

“I think you’d make a better model with your mouth shut,” you replied, glancing up briefly as his grin widened.

The flow of the conversation felt familiar, inviting—weirdly amusing unmatched most conversations you’ve had the past couple years, except perhaps your exchanges with Wonwoo. That is, if you could ever manage to say more than three words at a time to him through the frosted traces on the window. Perhaps your gravitation for either of these men stemmed from the absence of a partner in your life all these years, a quiet longing projected onto them. Either way, there seemed to be no harm in indulging in the attention.  

This stranger exuded a certain kindness—an audacious, unconventional amicability that defied explanation but felt undeniably real. It radiated through the harsh winter winds and the ever-deepening snow, a humanity that seemed to drip effortlessly onto your sketchpad. As you captured his form in the way your hands could manage in this damning weather, you found yourself rediscovering your passion thanks to an entitled no-name.

"How's it going?" he asked, curiosity coloring his tone.  

"Almost done," you replied, focusing on penciling in a few final details.  

"Let me see."  

Before you could respond, he hopped off the rock and stepped closer, leaning over your shoulder—his presence towering over you. "Huh. Not bad. But you're missing the defining features on my face,” his hand swept over his face, “you know—the eyes, my cheekbones. My distinct features."  

You tilted your head, fixing him with a deadpan stare. "Okay, well, your glasses are in the way, so I can only do so much."  

"Fine," he said with exaggerated resignation. Without warning, he took your wrist, his fingers brushing over your surging pulse, and gently guided you to sit against the cold, weathered rock behind him. He crouched in front of you, his face now level with yours, the sharp angles of his features highlighted by the pale, wintry light. The mischievous glint in his eyes was undeniably captivating, the blood pumping through your veins in a way the cold never could. "Here. A closer look—for accuracy."  

"For accuracy?" you echoed, raising an eyebrow.  

"Just don’t get any funny ideas," he added, his frost-touched breath, lingering the remnant of hot chocolate, making that smile on his face sweeter than you’d like it to be.

"Wouldn’t dream of it," you retorted, shifting your grip on the pencil on the sketchpad as you tried to ignore the way his proximity set your nerves buzzing.

As your eyes moved from the stranger to the sketch, you could notice as he stared back at you just as intently, as if looking directly into your soul, taking note of you and tracing you from memory. Perhaps that was his task as a self-assigned model, to familiarize themselves with their creator—or in his case hostage. 

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, drawing attention to the slender curve of his neck, bare and delicate. The smooth skin there traced a path upward, leading to the sharp features of his face—his soft lips, the high bridge of his nose, and his keen, fox-like eyes. Your breath was caught, unbidden, as you took a moment to take him in. Your eyes locked with his—just for a fleeting second—before you quickly returned to your sketch, pretending as if you weren’t for a moment thinking more than an artist should.

“Okay. Done,” you concluded with the tap on the page.

The stranger looked it over, holding the sketch pad towards him, smiling. “Don’t forget to sign it.”

”Oh, yeah that’s right,” you said, adding your initials in a prominent spot. “Been so long since I’ve had to do that.”

“Haven’t drawn in a while?”

You shook your head. “Not of people no, not as seriously either.”

”Well, it’s good. Keep it up.”

As you started to tear off the sheet with the sketch—holding the first page reluctantly between your fingers—you hesitated for a moment, then decided to gather the first half of the pages from the sketchbook. You tore them off in one satisfying swift motion and handed the stack to him. “Here.”

His eyes slightly widened in surprise, and he took the papers from you cautiously. “Are you sure?”

“There’s hundreds of pages.” You shrugged, “What do I need the whole stack for?”

He snickered, dusting off the eraser shavings as he admired the sketch again, he grinned happily with his exchange, making him a satisfied customer. “I wonder how much I can sell this for.”

“Maybe your mom will buy it off you,” you playfully retorted.

He, still unnamed, tucked his drawing in his bag, closing the passer door to his car, he walked back toward you, a lingering wistful smile on his face. 

“I guess this is where I leave,” he said, a raise and fall to his voice, something dramatic in his tone. “Never to be seen again.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yep. All's well that ends well, I guess.”

Before you could retreat to your car, his voice stopped you. “That’s it?”

You turned back, meeting his expectant gaze. “What?”

“I thought we had a moment here. Shared something special.”

You tilted your head, feigning confusion. “What? You want a scout badge for it?”

“No…”

“Then say what you mean.”

He scoffed, loosening the scarf around his neck to reveal the faint pink flush coloring his skin. “You’re really just gonna leave without saying goodbye?”  

You grinned, tilting your head. “We’ve known each other long enough for goodbyes?”  

“Why not?” he replied with a shrug that was meant to seem casual but instead came off surprisingly endearing.  

You mirrored his shrug, the flutter in your chest quickening as you met his gaze. “Then…bye, I guess,” you said softly, the words carrying a weight only got heavier.

“Bye,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, the word almost lost in the cold air between you. His smile lingered, faint but visible.

As you climbed into your car, you glanced back to find his silhouette watching, hands stuffed in his pockets. His expression was unreadable but unmistakably drawn to you, even as you moved out of view. Driving away, the sight of him standing there etched in your mind, like a ghost of regret, leaving you wishing there was more you could’ve done. You tapped against the wheel, shaking your head side to side, trying to decipher the significance of the encounter—what it meant and what it meant to you.

By the time you got home, the sun was already dipping below the horizon, painting the sky in shades of gold and pink. The day had slipped away before you even realized it, leaving you drained as you ushered your family to help with the groceries. Your sister, begrudgingly helpful, carried a single bag into the kitchen, while your parents, far more efficient, managed the rest with ease. They smiled at you as they asked about the store run.  

“It was fine,” you answered casually, omitting any mention of the fleeting encounter with a strange man and his self-absorbed request. Instead, you clutched the sketchpad tucked inside your puffer jacket, its presence comforting as you moved quickly to avoid further questions.  

After thanking everyone for stocking the groceries, you huddled inside, wasting no time darting to your room. Solitude awaited, and with it, the opportunity to test out your new sketchpad. And there was no better subject than Wonwoo. 

You wrote something in bold block letters, loud enough to catch his attention and you pressed the pad against the window.

‘Look who found something to write on!’

You held onto the sketchpad for a few minutes, waiting for a response that never came, wondering if Wonwoo was still out for the day—or maybe even the evening. Shrugging off the silence, you decided to put it to other uses, taking it to the living room as the familiar dynamics of your family unfolded before your eyes.  

By the time you got home, the power had returned. Jan had powered her phone, attached to the charging cable on the couch. The fridge, no longer relying on the backup generator, hummed with life as Mom filled it with everything cold. Meanwhile, Dad, his hankering for a beer quenched as he finally cracked one open, releasing a sigh of satisfaction.  

You settled on the stairs, sketchpad in hand, and began to recreate the scene before you. Each line brought their motions to life—the way Mom gestured animatedly, how your sister rolled her eyes with a whine, and Dad chimed in with his usual lecture in support of Mom. Their interactions flowed like a motion picture, filling your pages effortlessly.

A smile crept across your face as your pencil scratched vastly against the surface, then rapidly. You envisioned the warmth of their voices, how it would play with the lines of their shapes, drawing them how your eyes saw them. The small but welcoming chaos that was your family began to feel less like an obligation and more like something precious. What you had once dreaded, you now basked in, appreciating it for what it was. And on your sketchpad, it thrived, living through your fingertips and onto the paper. 

It was a fun little show and tell to share at dinner that night, bringing smiles to your family as you broke bread together. Even Jan, usually hard to impress, couldn’t help but seem genuinely happy for you.  

After the meal, with the house settling into its usual rhythm, you decided to try reaching out to Wonwoo again. You used the sign you had first had to catch his attention, holding it up against the glass, grasping at straws. This time, you waited longer, your breath fogging up the window as the evening chill seeped in. When nothing happened, you knocked lightly, the sound dull against the barrier between your world and his.

Just as you were about to give up again, something caught your eye—shadows of a moving figure, then a scrawl appearing faintly on what looked like a blank surface. It wasn’t elegant—messy even, like chicken scratch, but the message was somehow comprehensible:  

‘I found some paper too!’

It was hurried, uneven, written in an excited rush, and it made you break out in the biggest of smiles.

Despite the electricity restored and the household bustling again, your amusement in the simplest forms of communication never ceased to amaze you. There was a charm in it, something oddly intimate and endearing about written notes—just like Wonwoo. 

‘Where have you been all day? You weren’t here this morning,’ you interrogated.  

‘Errands. The power came on, and my parents kinda pushed us all out of the house,’ he replied.  

That answered your question well enough, not giving you much reason to doubt it—until Wonwoo threw a question of his own your way.  

‘What did you do to entertain yourself without me? Bet it was boring,’ he wrote.  

You rolled your eyes, a small grin tugging at your lips, before scribbling a reply. The more lengthy phrasing really let his personality shine. Although it didn't even take half a mind to know a mind to know Wonwoo was both silly and amicable, seeing the development was something you didn’t realize you longed to see ‘Mine kinda did the same thing. Was out grocery shopping for most of the afternoon.’  

‘Shopping took up the whole afternoon? The market’s only 30 minutes away. Something happen?’  

You hesitated, chewing on the end of your pen. Was there any point in telling Wonwoo about your encounter? Did it even matter? After a moment of thought, you decided there was no harm in sharing.  

‘Met some weirdo. An okay guy, I guess.’  

‘Interesting. Weirder than me?’

‘Up for consideration.’

‘Funny we were out at the same time. Maybe we passed by each other without knowing,’ he responded.  

‘Maybe,’ you agreed, looking back at all the people that have passed that could’ve possibly been him. 

Your exchanges had come a long way from simple signs and one-word notes, now flowing effortlessly into full sentences. There was an ease in your back-and-forth, a connection that felt as natural as breathing. You would miss this interaction when it’s time to go. And admittedly, you’d miss Wonwoo.

After playing catch up with him until the late hours of the night, scribbling your heart’s content on paper until every inch of a page was filled, you eventually grew tired, falling asleep and waking up again unsure of the time of day. You rubbed your eyes of sleep, attempting to perk yourself up, before looking at your phone for the time, the only reason you look at your phone as of late.

5:45pm. Just about plenty of time before dinner. 

When you came out of your room, it was vacant, almost eerily quiet how the living area was. “Hello,” you resonated out in the open space, legs trodding over to the kitchen.

Your gaze flickered over to a note, plucking it off the stainless steel. “Letting you sleep, some lunch in the fridge, and coming back with dinner. Love, Mom,” you recited, smiling.

It seemed your family had granted you some alone time, which you were more than happy to take advantage of. Grabbing your sketchbook from your room, you flipped through the filled pages, relieved to find a couple still untouched. The beauty of the day caught your eye, and you decided to capture it—particularly the landscape of the mountains, now finally visible beneath the layers of snow.

You flipped to any empty page, twirling a pencil between your fingers before starting out with an outline, tracing over the peak of the mountains and down its slope. You could get used to this feeling, this inspiration. Your smile widened when the picture was coming together: the shading, the rocks, the snow, even the birds that would sometimes linger on nearby trees. Your heart swelled in bliss like nothing else, any other sensation unmatched.

As you let out a frost bitten breath, presenting your picture to view as the sun was beginning to set in front of you. 

“Wow,” a deep voice called out from the darkness, startling you so badly that you dropped your book and pen.

A figure stood under the overhang of the neighboring cabin, tall but obscured by a blanket of shadows. “Who goes there?” you called out, your voice firm despite your unease.

“Who goes there? Are you a troll under a bridge?” he teased, clearly not taking your alarm seriously.

“I’m being serious. Who are you?” you demanded, stepping back cautiously.

“You can’t see me?” he asked, his voice tinged with genuine confusion.

“You’re standing in the dark like Slenderman. Of course, I can’t see you!”

“Oh. My bad.”

”Oh?! Why are you just standing there in the dark like a weirdo?”

“How am I being weird? I’m not being weird!” he protested, his voice rising slightly.

“Stop with this creepypasta crap—you scared the hell out of me! Are you a pervert or something?”

“Pervert?” he repeated, sounding offended. “Are you saying that just because I’m a man?”

“I’m saying that because you’re standing in the fucking shadows you have a knife behind your back!”

The shadowy figure finally started to get to the point and stepped out of the darkness, revealing himself to be more than a mere stranger. You blinked in surprise, recognizing him right away.

”You’re the guy from the grocery store.” You pointed out, your tone flat. “You stalking me or something?”

He narrowed his eyes, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “How do I know you’re not stalking me?”

”So, you’re saying I found you so alarmingly attractive that after drawing your picture that you requested I do, that left first to follow you all the way to your cabin, and then decided to draw mountains for fun in the middle of my stalking. Sure.”

”…Can I see them?”

You held out a cautionary hand. “Stay where you are, I have an orange belt.”

The man let out a long sigh, and your name rolled off his tongue so naturally it stopped you in your tracks. “Seriously, how do you not get it yet?”

Your eyes widened. “How do you know my name? Oh my god. You are a stalker.”

He slapped a hand against his chest in mock offense. “I’m Wonwoo, you clueless loser. The person you’ve been talking to for the past—what, week and a half?”

“…Huh.” You blinked, the pieces starting to fall into place. “That would make a lot of sense.” Still, a flicker of doubt lingered. “Prove it.”

He rolled his eyes. “You may be a good artist, but you can’t draw cows.”

You bristled. “I tried my best.”

“Your best sucked,” he quipped without hesitation.

You crossed your arms, narrowing your eyes at him but feeling the corners of your mouth tug upward despite yourself. “Hmm. Maybe you are Wonwoo.”

He crossed his arms to match yours, a grin spreading across his face at your acceptance. “I kinda had a feeling it would be you.”

You stepped closer, tilting your head. “Oh yeah? How?”

“Well…” His grin grew wider. “I was more so hoping it’d be you. You’re just as interesting in person as you are through…messages? Notes? Can we even call them that?”

You laughed, his words bringing back every ridiculous attempt you’d made to communicate—doodling, caveman vocabulary, the chicken scratch that was already hard enough to read with the condensation on the window.

“Well, it’s good to finally meet you,” you said, extending a hand. “Wonwoo.”

He glanced at your hand, amused. “A handshake?”

You shrugged, smiling. “What’s a better way to officially say hello?”

He shook his head, chuckling, and clasped your hand. The handshake started innocently enough, but then he tugged you forward, pulling you against him. Your breath caught as your bodies pressed together, the warmth between you defying the winter chill. His gaze locked onto yours, holding on to like and suddenly, the world around you seemed to fade.

You weren’t sure how to react, your heart pounding like it was trying to break free, leaving you standing there, suspended in what felt like a hallmark film annoyingly enough. And with that thought, you broke from the spell, finding the courage to speak. “What was that for?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he replied, his gaze fixed on you as if time had frozen, a lingering smile playing on his lips.

The corners of your mouth twitched upward despite yourself, almost melting under his playful watch. “Funny.”

“What?”

“We just met, and you’re already hitting on me?”

He scoffed, practically beaming at you falling seamlessly into his rhythm. Thought that was a given, considering the time you’ve known each other. “Actually, we’ve met a total of three times. And, as they say, the third time’s the charm.”

You mused up at him, for a moment entertaining the idea, seeing the picture he was trying to paint. “For what exactly?”

He nonchalantly shrugged, gaze softening as they fell over your features lower, arms sliding up your sides, “Well, ever since you drew me on that rock, I’ve wanted to hug you because I didn’t know if I would ever get the chance to.”

”And now?”

His hand reached up to brush the top of your head, and fingers delicately found themselves through your hair, weaving through with a slow reverent touch. “I hadn’t gotten that far yet,” he softly admitted, “but if you’ll let me, maybe I can make you a part of my art one day.”

”You know…that doesn't make you sound any less like a serial killer.”

”You can’t let me have one serious moment, can you?”

“I think you’ve known me long enough to answer that question yourself,” You grinned.

[noob-with-a-shitty-computer]

Secret Romantic (Grell Sutcliff x gn!artist!Reader)

A/N: I’m still pretty new to black butler but this woman has been living in my head rent-free for the past few weeks, which fortunately has given me a bit of inspiration to write a fic :> hope u like it and i hope it isn’t too ooc.

Summary: You were not really known to be a hopeless romantic, unlike your flamboyant companion. However, she wasn’t expecting to see a different side of you on the night you dropped your sketchbook nearby…

In the midst of another work-filled night, you quickly flipped through the to-die list one last time. “I think that’s about everyone tonight.” You let out a sigh of relief in unison with the red reaper in front of you, “What a night. I’m so glad that Phantomhive got this case closed rather quickly.” A bit of awkward silence passed until you heard a few quiet giggles, which made you turn to your friend who’s green irises were swinging left and right to each picture she had in her hands.

“Grell, are you listening?!” You raised your voice enough for her to let out a yelp as if she was a frightened puppy. “‘Bassy’ caught your eye again?” You scoff. “Come on, can you blame me? He was ever so graceful, how could I not take a photo or fourty~? Especially when he was wearing that ridiculously handsome suit~!” She dreamily sighs and you do nothing but roll your eyes. You never liked demons, always thought they were a hassle to deal with. It didn’t make it any better that a certain demon butler just so happened to steal the doting heart of the woman who stole yours.

“Well, I’ll head off now so you can have your little fun, I suppose. See you at work, my lady.” You greeted nonchalantly as you quickly jumped out of the scene using your reaper agility. Before Grell could glue her eyes back to the photos, she heard a thud nearby, finding a familiar book on the stone ground. It was the sketchbook you always brought around during work to draw on whenever you had a bit of time on your hands. She remembered the times you refused to show her your artworks, hiding the pages against your chest as a faint but cute blush creeped onto your cheeks.

It seemed that curiosity killed the cat (much to Sebastian’s dismay) as Grell approached the sketchbook with a smirk, letting go of her precious photos for the time being…

“Let’s see what you’ve been hiding from me, darling.” She mutters to herself as she slowly flips through the sketchbook, admiring every image. There’s a sketch of the town you recently visited in the view from a tall building, doodles of a couple of dresses you saw from a store window, and other random things. You were quite talented, she thought, curious if you happened to have a doodle of dear Bassy as well~ It only took a couple minutes until she flipped through a page that caught her off guard.

Several doodles of the red reaper herself were presented to her, some smiling, some frowning, some drawings ended down to her head or bust and there were a couple of full body drawings as well. She flipped through more pages and found herself again. There was one drawing where she was wearing a beautiful dress and another where she and you dancing together, she was wearing the same dress while you wore your own outfit with a similar design. It was like an illustration from a fairytale book, the you in the sketch revealed a big smile that your colleagues don’t often see on you in real life.

The next page had sketches of her in other fancy outfits, the page after that had sketches of her doing her signature pose, the page after that was a drawing of you and her, hand in hand and looking at each other fondly while the moonlight illuminated your figures. She didn’t realize you were so observant over her. It was a bit unsettling, but it also felt endearing to her that you put in so much effort into capturing her beauty on paper. Her mind was filled with different thoughts, the memories of you and her training, laughing, smiling and spending time together all those years ago up till now. She couldn’t deny that it made her heart flutter.

Meanwhile, you were panicking in your room trying to find that lost sketchbook, worried that Grell had caught it first. You dejectedly rushed to your door only to find said reaper in front of your doorstep, causing you to stumble backwards. “Gah! G-Grell, what are y-you doing here..?” Your heart was pounding as you looked over to her hand which was holding very thing you were looking for over the past several minutes. Grell chuckled a bit as she handed it back to you. “Darling, I never thought you felt this way about me~” She stepped closer with a smile.

“I-I’m sorry, I can explain-“ “No, I’m sorry for pulling on your heartstrings like that, my dear.” Grell’s eyes softened as she apologized. “The drawings are gorgeous as well. I didn’t know you were such a romantic~!” She smirked and you huff your cheeks, “I guess you just rubbed off on me, my lady.”

“No worries, it’s cute.” Her smile grew as she watched your cheeks flush and eyes widen. “Aww, look at your cheeks! They’re covered in such an adorable shade of red~” She failed to supress a cheeky giggle. “Stop teasing me!” You quickly protest before she held out a hand to you.

“Heh, well I must admit, you were always dear to me, darling. I guess I was too occupied with my own obsessions to realize it sooner… But since you seem to be interested in a dance, may I take your hand tonight~?” She stated flirtatiously, causing your cheeks to grow hotter. You were a lot less experienced in the world of love compared to the reaper in front of you, causing you to hesitate taking her offer…

But then again, who are you to refuse a lovely lady such as Grell Sutcliff~?

A/N: i need sleep. why must motivation show up during midnight T_T anyways hope u like it :P

[lovecanbesostrange]

Please know that since yesterday I am mentally trapped in these two panels. There is actually a lot I will miss Krakoa for, but I also felt a bit of resentment throughout the era and this family is a big reason why. NOW that we are in the last stretch of burning it all down and the new X-launch is in reach, we'll get this wedding special. And we finally have all four together in a panel. NOW?! I bought X-Men Unlimited #4 in either fall of '94 or spring '95, solely because of the cover. 30 years of waiting. Let me live in this moment for a bit.

Look at what they are doing with the art! Oh sure, Mystique and Nightcrawler are the blue ones. Pair up Destiny and Rogue next to that to make them look similar enough as well. Only for my brain to scream "but the personalities are the other way around!!!!!!!!". Irene and Kurt work on faith and believe in possibilities and reaching out to be better. Raven and Anna Marie typing this out makes me feel weird are the ones who will kill a bitch and say they will darken their soul so others don't have to. Plus there is the element that they both have lived more than one life and their sense of self is distorted .

They've come a long way, okay?!

Yes this is exactly what it looks like. For plot reasons Nightcrawler was too weak to teleport and dangling off a cliff next to Mystique. And of course Rogue could only save one and before she made a decision Mystique said "I make this for you" and let go. I still like to believe she flipped them the bird when she fell. Because she is Mystique. "HaHa! Take this, you think I'm the worst mother ever, but you will have to live with a moment of nobility from me!" (Also Destiny knew this would come, and she fucking knows there is something good inside of Mystique. It just comes out... different. And needs very specific circumstances.)

Apart from X-Men Evolution (and the X-Men Forever alternate history comic with its very special vibes), we have never gotten any bigger acknowledgement of this family. And Irene has been cut out. Either conveniently on account of being dead, or because she's an old lady and clearly just a gal pal, ahem. (It's also very funny to me to go back to their first appearances, where the Brotherhood of Evil Mutants has the biggest Three Stooges energy ever. I needed Mystique, Destiny, Rogue, Pyro, Blob and Avalanche to have a drinking contest on Krakoa. That is what Krakoa was supposed to be about!! You needed to give us 200% domestic nonsense, fun and games. So it would hurt everybody when it was inevitably taken away. EVERYBODY needed to find happiness in that place in unconventional ways.)

Sadly not my original thought (I don't have those), but recently I read some comment where somebody said that with Irene being his bio-mother, Kurt should have inherited a type of precog-sense, a sorta spidey-sense for teleportation. A natural ability that he won't teleport into an obstacle. And I would be so on board with that. (Also funny, because Ms Marvel had that type of sense and I could pull up panels where Nightcrawler tried to trigger that in Rogue.) Would it be weird to add that now? Sure. But also super cute and helpful.

My deepest gratitude goes out to the fanartists who have doodled and sketched and painted cute family moments for them out of time. Now canon can catch up. Imagine their dinner conversations. N: "Logan is my best friend." M: "Oh, that reminds me there is this blue furball running around with his and my powers. I don't even remember if we ever had sex or not, we're so close in age and have these memory gaps." N: "Mutter, nein!" D: "You should ask him out, you two would make a cute couple. Trust me." R: "You're setting up Nightcrawler with Wolverine and keep giving me grief over Gambit?" M: "He speaks too much French! Wolverine might be Canadian, but at least he's not a Franco-Canadian!" N: "So I couldn't date Northstar?"

Do not get me wrong though. Mystique and Destiny are horrible people and they will stab others in the back. They have worked for the government, they have plotted assassinations of government people. They have fought alongside and against the X-Men. I don't want them tamed or be reasonable. I want their mess. I want them as anti-villains. Because they don't do heinous things for nothing. They like to create less horrible murder events than what could be... some writers just liked to go overboard with the scheming and forgot the sympathic undertones, which I want to cling to. And we deserved a time of peace on Krakoa. Truly imagine a Mystique who was happy on Krakoa. And the absolut batshit villainous energy when it's burned down against her will... now THAT would have been something. Instead of baking resentment into the foundation.

[mjrtaurus]

I like to think Urpi’s always a really artistic, creative soul, but with nowhere to put all the energy cause there is just nooo way she’d do it when she was still up in Skypiea! Not when there is so much work to do, she wouldn’t let herself get distracted by some wayward desire to doodle!

(Still, when the nights were still and quiet she’d spent some of her precious few sleeping hours doing that same exact thing. She had no real answer as to why, the weight of everything just felt a little lighter when she did. She’s never share this with anyone naturally and would deny it to her last breath if/when Nina caught her.)

When she found herself at the mercy of those horrible pirates so many thoughts consumed her, all raging in her head like a swarm of locusts but strangely drawing still came back to her mind. She wished she hadn’t been so cowardly about something she liked, she wished she would have done it more. Maybe her people would more to remember by than just sure to fade memories.

A couple of months after her rescue she ended making a single request to the ever accommodating Vice Admiral: a pencil and some paper. She’d lock herself in her room and draw the curtains tight before delving into that notepad. She drew everything about home, every person she knew, every familiar curve of cloud she could recall. She refused to forget, she’d draw until the pencil snapped again and again. There was no point in drawing anything else anyway.

Until, she began noticing. And once she started she couldn’t stop. The Blue Sea, the islands that inhabit it…they were all quite beautiful.

So she slowly began to draw those too. Just a little at first, a nondescript piece of ocean, the sandy duned deserts of Alabasta, the glorious architecture of Water 7, had this world always been this way? How had she never truly seen it before?

The more she bonded with the crew of that Marine ship the more she began to draw them too. She usually (carefully) ripped them out and handed it over to whoever her muse was and my how they would fawn over their drawn selves, she always thought they were being a little exaggerative but the praise and encouragement was…nice. The Vice Admiral had even gifted a couple sketchbooks and some charcoals which even she had to admit was pretty sweet of him to do.

One of those sketchbooks and most of that charcoal get used for..something, she never clarifies it to anyone.

(It’s drawings of Garp. The crush, her very first one mind you, hit her ass hard and she needed an outlet. What are the contents of those sketches you ask? Well that’s between her, Nika and the lighter she definitely didn’t steal.)

Those… questionable drawings are somewhere locked up tighter than the gates of Mary Geoise. Possibly under a loose floorboard, or a false backing in a bookshelf. Garp accidentally happened upon them once and didn’t say anything about it. He was tickled pink for days on end, but he didn’t say anything about it.

Urpi knew.

There is a sketch right in the middle of one of her earlier sketchbooks that is unfinished. Elbaf, as seen from the deck of an approaching ship. It was some of her finest work, and yet… it felt like it should remain unfinished.

Later that day, Garp proposed to her.

Over the years they were together, she filled many other sketchbooks. Drawings of the inside of their home, the streets of Goa and the high walls, the uncomfortable magnetism of Gray Terminal, the cozy cottage they eventually moved to after Dragon was born (the boy needed room to grow, she and Garp had readily agreed), the garden outside, the jungles of Dawn and the distant peak of My. Colubo…

And Dragon. Dragon, Dragon, Dragon. Her darling boy. His little wings that both made her so proud and so worried. And then Dadan. And then Kuzan. And then all three together. Garp and the kids. Self portraits with the help of a looking glass. The snails Dragon would bring home to show everyone. The penguin that just appeared out of nowhere and had been with Kuzan ever since. The ragtag group of boys that Dadan bossed around. The kids throughout their lives. Dragon- newly appointed Admiral at the time- in his dress uniform, looking adorably uncomfortable, Kuzan snoozing during an award ceremony, Dadan sitting front and center with Garp before the newly built hideout…

And then she had to run.

None of her sketchbooks came with her.

The cottage had been ransacked.

She never had the heart to draw again.

Not until she saw a face she hadn’t seen in a good thirty years. Same nose, same eyes, same mouth as her own, but his shaggy hair and the sharp cut of his jaw were all his father’s. And that tattoo. The same patterning she always knitted into the scarves she used to wrap around his neck when he was just a boy ready to go out and play in the snow.

[taegularities]

RIDDD 🎀🖇🩵

are you truly feeling better? ;-; a migraine is the last thing i'd wish upon anyone among list of terrible headaches, bcs i used to have cluster headaches— so i can only guess what's a whole migraine must be like ; please take care of yourself, and rest well :(

i don't know if it would be insensitive to drop the following long message here rn, but you obv have the liberty to ignore it till you feel better or as you wish. this is your domain, after all. love you.

"RUINED" : RAMBLE.

i had to drop the headcanons that's been eating up my mind bc the other day while i was taking my mock tests, my mind kept drifting off to the couple. lol. so here's a list of headcanons i had as a reader, from all the different bits of the story and the things you told us. hehe. these are mostly 'soft moments' as asked by you in that ask ( i wish i could drop the reference links, but i'm on my phone so it's hard to operate dually. however, i shall say which parts inspired what brainrot : they're from your works )

RUINED : BRAINROTS.

inspo : a!oc is the type of person who knows what she wants, her saying : two years of marriage and i still put up with the way you put the toilet paper the wrong way around. lol. her being very organized too bc she doesn't want work to pile up and focuses on her tasks in office. both of thm loving to sing

if she loves her things organized, i can see— during the beginning of their dating life, tae'd come over on a random weekend, only to find a!oc cleaning up, in her most natural state, and the mundane aspect of it would melt him. why? bcos he's the been there, done that sort of person, but not when it comes to these things. the domesticity, i mean. hehe.

also, the fact that she trusted him enough to show that side of her? :') the only reason she wouldn't stress about her look is bc she's adorably engrossed in her work and NEEDS IT DONE AND HE SAW HER IN OTHER STATES TOO 🫠

HELLO, RID. CAN YOU SEE HIM ENTERING HOME TO HER ONE DAY AND A!OC MOUTHING THE LYRICS OF A LOVE SONG TO TAE WHILE DOING MUNDANE THINGS WHILE THE MUSIC PLAYS IN THE BG?

AFTER THAT THEY COMPOSED THEIR OWN SONG OR SMTH IDK U TELL, RID!

inspo : a!oc being adorable-oc in general. her eyes having the purity even in the lewdest moments, her general love and admiration for him, original ruin you devil tango on the phone drabble 😮‍💨 a!oc loving to draw, tae in general loosing his composure around her lol

this one is loosely based on what my friend did once. so we were in a fb video call and she just randomly made a quick sketch of me on doodle. it was beautiful. 😔

since we are talking soft moments mostly, i can literally see him trying to sexually rizz her up on some video call— imagine him going like 'are you touching yourself?' or smth bc her hands are busy 🤣 but homegirl, who misses him sm and can be an adorable vixen, leads him on— only to send a quicksketch of him so beautifully done ( with artist-oc : a!oc touch 🥹 )....and can you imagine his reaction? always 'interpreting him anew' x 'you are an artist to me, okay?'

SORRY! I DON'T REMEMBER THE LINES VERBATIM!

inspo : basically, tae's protectiveness towards her, a!oc not liking to depend on people, her caring about his demons and wanting to fight his battles and these intially clashing, smex that melts you. tae : i cried, she crode. we s-crewed. ( no, rid. you never wrote that but its just a lil meme ref 😭 ) old tae and his demons.

this one is also from initial years. i think if she were to ever get injured in any way or had a scar—however minor, he'd still spend hours on those spot/s, kissing & hating himself for not being there when it happened. also, i think if she didn't tell him about such a thing/things bc it's not an issue to her, because he had sm going on according to her and didn't wanna pile on— he'd be upset. can see her making jokes about it since it's nothing to her, and him glaring at her with swimming red eyes ( just like the wedding drabble where he threatened her to never leave him ), and making similar threats to his favorite girl ( mid-lovemaking ) ☹️

you often write that before meeting her, tae's biggest flex in bed was composure. so i can literally see him shortcircuting (even during the roughest rounds), hearing her say the most loving things and her unadultered affection. the holds only bared by his urge to take care of her first like you always say.

also, i think when he first introduced her to his world of ruined tango, he was more concerned about her, than a!oc herself. can see him internally worrying, but she is the type to want it harder and more, anyway, to his constant surprise 😂 no, but seriously. suppose it's waxplay, and he knows what he's doing bc he's a pro, but it's still his a!oc 😭 no matter how much lust and control is swarming around them, his need to smear his affection on/inside her is REAL! ever love someone so much that even being balls deep in them isn't enough bc you wanna consume them whole??? and merge with their soul and being??? that's them, and it was novel for him. right?

and you said he kinda likes giving away control more now? why can i see a!oc, simply like a mini-him in some ways, just loving on every nook and crany of his being, when she first took over charge? 🥹 she must have had sm love to give him 🥹 i mean, in the past giving away control would be all about pleasure, but i think when he gave her that role for the first time, he wasn't expecting getting LOVED ON. CAN U HEAR HER WHISPERING PROMISES AND COMPLIMENTS IN THE PUREST WAYS? ( yk how she said, "well, it's true. i want it' about his 🐓 in such a harmless way? 🫠 ) whole lotsa crying, right? ....right?......RIGHT? 😭 bc it's never enough. not until they breathe. the other. in. AAAAA-

inspo : random ig reel, lol. this girl asked her bf, if her soul were to get switched with her bestfriend's, who would he pick. homeboy replied : i will take you to an exorcist 😂

imagine somebody asking her that question, but the other way around and in tae's presence— can see him tensing up bc hello, ry!jk wassup 🤩🚨 but a!oc will also pull up a "will take him to an exorcist" answer and set his demons free 🕊🕊🕊

inspo : papa!tae and mama-a!oc.

sometimes, i assume their first born is a son, then i settle for a daughter. or maybe an older brother to a lil sister. anyway, daughter is a mini a!oc. teenie tinie version of her 🤏🏻🥹 and he looks like such a girl dad at times, too.

to me—the babygirl has a!oc's eyes, his nose, and a pair of both of their lips combined, but also her father's fullness. why her mama's eyes?

BC DOUBLE HER, DOUBLE THE PEACE IN TAE'S LIFE.

imagine her wrapping that tiny chubby soft hand around his wedding ring instead of the pinky/thumb/index 🫠 he'd definitely be like : both of you women are gonna be the end of me :))))))))))))))))))))

little monet family. 🎐

it's so late at night. i resign 😮‍💨 please, recitfy me as you wish. also i forgot a lot of them, so pardon me 🫂 i couldn't articulate properly. had so much to write and tell but 🕸🕸🕸 love you, rid. thank you.

HI LOVE 🥺 i was feeling better last night and most of today haha but now the headache's coming back :')))) just why :'') it's a pretty horrible pain, but welp. and no worries babe, this isn't insensitive at all??? in fact, this is so fkn sweet?? 😭

yes, she def seems like someone who has her act together. as an office assistant, she's used to working neatly and diligently, so she'd be scolding tae for little things for sure hahaha :') ahhh the domesticity would shoot an arrow into his heart. he's never experienced such a love, you know? so to know somebody's here and his home… must affect him for sure :( they're both kind of an anchor to the other, and prove each other time and time again that they're able to show their true side. NAWH THEIR OWN LOVE SONG THO YES PLS.

the purity even in the filhiest moments is so fucking real. i don't remember if i actually mentioned that, but yes??? she's an angel, so there's some innocence in her eyes no matter what. NOT YOU USING MY QUOTES AGAINST ME IN A SKETCH SITUATION 😭 omg the confession.. you are an artist to me :') she would she would she would!!!

oh, he'd lose his shit if he saw an injury on her :( i remember my ex once crying and rushing to the hospital when i fell in the shower, and i had a lil scar on my chin (still do), and i think tae would feel similar? shedding tears and inspecting her wound and just everything :( he loves his baby and wants not a single scratch on her

omg ofc, he'd never be able to keep his chill with her hahaha no touch is ever enough. needs her melted with him <3

"i think when he gave her that role for the first time, he wasn't expecting getting LOVED ON" BABE YESS!!! 😭 maybe that's why he's so comfortable with her, too, even if he gives away control. he knows she knows what she's doing. also omg the exorcism one 😂 they're both witty so 100%.

hahaha honestly, i can't remember what i said about their firstborn or if i said anything at all, but yeah honestly both is possible!!! a boy whom he loves teaching life, or a girl who he adores with all his heart.. would definitely destroy him, along with oc hahaha that's a bit too much for his lil (big) heart :') little monet family 🥺

i hope you slept well!!! thank you so much for typing this all out??? i can't believe somebody's ready to do this for me or is invested enough in one of my stories to come up with such wholesome and long ass headcanons??? i love you fr 😭 i'm always here if you remember the others. thank you <3

[microraptorreactor]

I feel like dumping out my box of OCs like one would do a box of lps so very long post filled with very many doodles ahead!

Reference for my Rainworld oc, Lost! He's an idiot kid I made for one joke but now he lives in my brain. I think I made this reference for him last year? Idk I don't remember. I'm just now realizing that Lost snuck into my V2 characterization lmao.

Elysium art of various ages! Made between 2021-2023 I believe. This is the oc I made before I knew what Ultrakill was and everyone thought I was making an Ultrakill joke. Tbh if it wasn't for the fact that I MADE Elysium and have their early sketches I wouldn't believe they weren't an Ultrakill reference either. Speaking of which, here's some animations from when Elysium was both a quadruped and a model of robot instead of an individual. These were both made for a class in 2021.

VERY old art (2020 I think? I wasn't using my screen tablet yet) that I normally wouldn't include if it weren't for the fact my friends would explode me if I mentioned Elysium and Lost without mentioning Nerve. She was an anxiety-ridden warforged cleric who got tragically sent to the vampire realm. Whenever Nerve comes up in discussion one of my friends brings up how I made him cry with her final speech. I don't remember tf I said lmao.

Art of my His Dark Materials OC, Zurial! Art would have been made 2022 onwards. I made her WAY back in 2019 before Hazbin Hotel even had a pilot but unfortunately now she looks like a Hazbin angel and I feel weird drawing her. Which is really unfortunate because I love her dearly, she's one of my favorite OCs. She's also the only oc I have who I've made a plushie for. Why did my character design have to accidentally look like the works of famous youtube animator Vivian Medrano T-T

(here's her plushie btw. I'm really proud of it lol.)

Here's Niphit, one of my Warframe OCs! Some of y'all might recognize her as my AO3 pfp, but her design has changed since then. The bottom reference sheet is her most recent design. She's kind of conceptually similar to Baeri/Sleet/-31 from SftBT, in terms of hacking shit and having a snout and teeth. Biggest difference is that she is a whole ass hivemind, usually pretty harmless, and also considered pretty young.

Shameless CR:K fanchild OC. Her name is Golden Parmesan Cheese Cookie (Parm or Parmesan for short) and she's also, like, an AI copy of a dead person. Or a dead person's soul trapped inside an eternal simulation? Either way she's got SO many issues. I have a massive chatfic wip from when I decided to try writeing something with her.

Okay I know technically this is a Homestuck OC but I like to say she's a Hiveswap OC. Because I played Hiveswap and loved it but never read Homestuck. Anyways her name is Vintan she's a yellowblood.

Whoa an original character! Yeah this is Corion, they come from my brain. I have a whole story concept about post-apocalyptic robot cowboys (and human cowboys) that I've done a couple doodles from but never written down. Corion serves as a sort of living taxi, guiding or carrying people across the wasteland. They are a secondary protagonist, I don't think I have art of Pike and Amelia, the actual protagonists. One funny fact about this universe is it contains a character named V1 (pronounced Vi, still written as V1) who I can no longer use for obvious reasons.

But yeah! Ramble over! Not anywere near all of them I just wanted to talk about my brain children XD

[row-boats3]

A piece I wrote in like 20 minutes because I have Encanto brain-rot and I started thinking of how Mirabel got her “gift” in a Celebrity!Madrigals AU

……..

Mirabel returned home sluggishly, tossing her bag to the couch as soon as she crossed through the door of their home.

Unsurprisingly, the house was empty.

Mama had gone to an interview for her new cook-book, dragging Papa with her as even with her collected front she hated doing interviews alone. Tia Pepa was working hard on recording her next album with Tio Felix. Dolores was at a meeting for her cover art, Luisa at training for the athletic event, and Camilo at a table read for a new, exclusive movie he wasn’t allowed to tell her about yet.

Even Senorita perfecta Isabela would be welcome right now, but she was out too, negotiating a contract with a new, up-and-coming fashion boutique.

Once again, ordinary Mirabel was left alone as her extraordinary family won over the hearts of the public.

It wasn’t like Mirabel resents them for it.

(Well, maybe she did - just a little - but she really didn’t mean to.)

Mirabel loved her family more than anything, and they loved her. She knew her family loved her, they showed it every day. They were just so busy with interviews, and work, and fans, and fame.

(And yeah, maybe things have been tough for a couple years since Camilo had started getting serious acting work. Maybe Abuela was starting to pressure Mirabel, or asking her why she hadn’t started working on something impressive like her sisters or cousins. Maybe Mirabel felt just a tiny bit alone every time her parents, or sisters, or cousins were too busy to ask about her day or help with homework. That didn’t mean they loved her any less, right?

Right?)

She turned the TV on, just to drown out the silence of the apartment. It landed on an old rerun of a talk-show from last week, an interview of Dolores quietly teasing her new album. Mirabel left in on, the familiar voice always calming.

There she was, home alone, given full range of the top floor apartment building her family owned.

She was was wholly, completely, unequivocally bored.

With nothing better to do, she decided to actually do some homework, pulling out notebooks of her bag and flipping to the next clean page of her math one. Her eyes wandered, smiling at the paper.

Just before it was a page full of doodles from when she got bored in class, all symbols important to her family. Herbs for Mama, A thunderbolt (the name of Tia Pepa’s first solo album), a chameleon for Camilo, Flowers for Isabela who always said she wanted to be a florist before modeling took off. Beside the individual drawing had been a smaller sketch, the markings inside a pair of pants.

Mirabel paused.

She glanced down at her own, suddenly very plain skirt.

Her private school had many rules on dress code - no colored hair, uniform below the knees, black shoes.

They said nothing against modifying the turquoise uniform, did they?

In a sudden moment of weakness and ADHD hyperfixation, the teen shot up. Papa kept some extra sowing supplies in the back of his closet, didn’t he?

Somewhat quickly, with only a small fight with a jacket, she’d gotten the sowing kit and changed clothes to pull her skirt over her lap.

She sowed, carefully working the needle in and out of the fabric in a focus she’d never had before.

So often, she was “the other Madrigal”, the boring one, the child left to herself. So, if she had to be plain Mirabel, the least she could do was have a not-so-plain skirt.

Two weeks full of lonesome days passed by thanks to that needle and thread before the skirt was done, and she was no longer so plain.

She had no idea almost a year and a half after that, she sold her first fashion design, catapulting herself from ordinary Mirabel into the spotlight as one of the Magnificent Madrigals.

[transformers-bold-bright-brisk]

[INTRODUCTION]

WELCOME TO TRANSFORMERS: BOLD BRIGHT BRISK!

So, since I was super indecisive about which side-plot I wanted to focus on the most, I just made two extra. Yes, all three sideplot story stuff will be posted on this blog.

They all coincide with each other in some way, some events will happen before one sideplot’s events, and others will happen after one other sideplot’s events, so on and so forth.

[TF Media Referenced]

- Rescue Bots Academy

- Rescue Bots

- Transformers Prime

- Robots In Disguise

- Cyberverse

- Last Bot Standing

- More Than Meets The Eye

- Lost Light

- Literally any other miscellaneous information I find on TF Wiki that I insert to fill a couple plot-holes, but aren’t significant enough for me to completely take inspiration from that specific medium

[Overview]

- The war was over between Autobots and Decepticons, and afterwards it was a big celebration while the rebuilding of Cybertron took place. Years after the reconstruction of Cybertron, and it’s newly revised government, there are now many more individual situations that have arisen from the aftermath.

[Asks]

1) Can Accept ✅

- Asks about the lore and characters are very much appreciated!

- I’m also open to do some small sketch requests that pertain to the characters in my Fan Continuity, and characters that are in it but aren’t explicitly mentioned.

- I might answer a few questions with a doodle if I really feel like it, but rest assured I won’t be able to do all of them.

- Oh, don’t worry if your ask sounds a bit “spoilery” I’ll let you know.

2) Won’t Accept ❌

- Sorry, this blog isn’t for role playing with the characters.

- Also any asks that have links to anything without a description or just look sketchy in general, your ask will get deleted.

- Absolutely under no circumstances will I answer any creepy asks like NSFW or anything 18+, it’s just gross to me.

- No bigotry, racism, sexism, or any kind of LGBTQIA+phobia at all in my ask box.

[Tagging]

#sphny speaks (𖦹<𖦹)•*°⊹

- Any and all rambles, reviews, drabbles, or small updates to keep people informed of any “delays” or just small brain farts that happen throughout my day.

#sphny alternates universe (𖦹ㅁ𖦹)•*°⊹

- Whenever I just start to ramble and just start grabbing random info from other TF franchise continuities and alternate them into my universe without a second thought(or many thoughts, depending…)

#sphny arts (𖦹w𖦹)•*°⊹

- Any and all art I make and post, whether it’d be just a draft, concept art, or art dumps that I draw to support my stories.

#sphny reblogs (𖦹Q𖦹)•*°⊹

- On this blog especially, I would usually reblog something from my main, or just self-reblog from my early works, and maybe occasionally something neat I would to add to my blog later on so I don’t forget.

#sphny answers (𖦹0 𖦹)•*°⊹

- Along with asks, I’ll be tagging anything I’ve answered under this tag, just for consistency’s sake.

#sphny originates character (𖦹▿𖦹)•*°⊹

- This rarely ever happens, but on occasion if I were to make an original character I’d make sure to tag it under this so I can be able to track it down easier.

[twinvenus]

2022 SUMMARY OF ART!!!!

JAN/FEB

it was a really slow start this year... in january i didnt actually finish anything, all i have to show for that period is a single flight rising drawing -- i had another one, but it's now Lost Media (sadly) from when i got my new PC.

(more recounting under da cut! i've included a lot of unposted/unfinished sketches down here!)

MARCH

march was a lot of desperate attempts to get back into drawing by sketching out little character designs i never posted, mostly wizards. that wizard right there is my favourite of the bunch. Fantastic energy from this creature.

APRIL

april is when i started getting into working on Gnome Lore that i have on my site, gnomes.neocities.org! gnomes are my special interest so the enthusiasm of learning about gnome mythology/history, and my own ideas for gnomes, actually got me COLOURING PIECES. incredible feeling.

this was the back end of my flight rising fixation, and included a few humanised sketches of my dragons Mirth and Gerana, pictured above. i was also getting really into WoW again at this time, so there were plenty of little wow-inspired sketches. + a bonus Jurgen from sam and max in the bottom left!

MAY

the gnoments (gnome moments) carried on into the month of may as i designed other known mythological creatures. i also rehashed a beloved old DnD gnome OC called April and included her in that lore. love that lil gal.

during this month i got really into working on my neocities page, and so a lot of art i did was assets for that. you can see a majority of my May drawings over there on the lore page. :-)

JUNE

june was a month of OC swag for me. i was totally inspired in the month leading up to ArtFight and put my heart into character design! from this beautiful month i got one of my new favourite pieces, shown there, of my ocs ZAP! APPLE and STEP KID. they're inspired by the band The Avalanches, specifically the album Wildflower. during this month i also created some of my newest and favourite OCs such as RANBOLIN, Beanie Boy, and Professor PJ!

during this i also did some new art for characters like irene, nadia, and D.A. Private Eye. i think a vast majority of this can be found in my "ocs" tag...

JULY

and here it comes.... my traditional Best Month for art. i was popping off HARD this month even though i didn't do as much as last time. i am SO happy with everythign that came out of this year's artfight, deeply. here are some of my favourite pieces from that period:

i was really into one-layer drawings this year. these were all done on two layers MAX, with the binary brush on sai. it really pushed me to be creative with my colours and detailing, and it's become one of my favourite ways to draw.

YOU MAY HAVE NOTICED. that the art for july features a certain Recurring Character. this is because in the month or so prior i had begun rewatching Naruto with my brothers. although the full-force naruto hyperfixation didn't settle in until months later this was the beginning of it. Rotating gaara in my mind always.

AUGUST

hmm... august got quite slow again. i might have been burnt out from going so hard in the other couple months. i have a few odd doodles from that month aside from the birthday gift to @l0gitex you see there, including THESE:

i also started developing a naruto OC when some brainrot started to settle in. their name is kodama, after the tree spirits. i wanted them to be from konoha, you know, to match -- originally i wanted them to have that wood type stuff, but recently i've been thinking that something to do with funghi and mycelium networks might be really interesting, especially due to their connection with trees, and how kodama live inside trees. these were some outfit concepts but i think i'll change their colour palette to match konoha more. more blues and browns i think.

SEPTEMBER

the dawn of my BRIEF SPLATOON ERA! i haven't played since that month LMAOOOOO! anyways, i drew a few splatoon-related pictures in that time.

birth of Blupi. as well as this September is the beautiful month in which i began to learn using Blender. here's a little ref drawing for the gaara model! (why do i keep doing stuff with gaara?????):

i was so proud of how that model came out. i had some other models of OCs like tomato cloun and one of ranbolin i never finished rigging (i hate weight painting so much oh my god-)

OCTOBER

man i wish halloween was like, anything here. during this month i started working again on my gnomes page so there were some more little designs done, visible on the lore page! specifically, the boggart and warren gnome were from October, as well as Awesome Rando.

NOVEMBER

november was kind of an epic month for my OCs, actually! alongside my interest in naruto REALLY starting to fire up again i was redrawing and bringing back older OCs as well as bringing in beloved Clary! here are Ranbolin and Dee as well. <3 let's go girls

beyond this the naruto brainrot had really settled in. so i began drawing my favourite characters: you know who. happy birthday Rock Lee!

DECEMBER

OHHHHHHHH HERE WE GOOOOOOOOO!!!! DEPTHS OF HYPERFIXATION STRIKE!! i know i've posted a lot of art lately, and i'm so excited that i have -- i didn't know if i'd ever get this stoked again since earlier in the summer but i am so INTO IT RN!!!!!

check out this hinata wip:

awesome thing about being fixated is i tend to finish a lot more of my drawings, it really carries my enthusiasm. so i'm hoping to have this picture finished soon! if not, many more will be finished in its place.

man if you read all of this ur a real one, thank you so much. i'm so excited to see what comes in art for 2023!!!!! MY wicked hands will concoct such bountiful imagery. I can feel it

[nancypullen]

Sunday the 4th

Where was I?  I think when I last posted we were just about to run over to Rehoboth Beach to see/hear David Sedaris at BrowseAbout Books.  It was SO much fun!  We went to see him several times in Nashville, but it was always in a theater setting at TPAC.  Ever entertaining, he reads essays he’s working on, takes questions, talks about his book tour and all that - but meeting him in a more intimate setting and having a chat was so much better!  Let me back up a bit and talk about the nice woman I met in line.  Her name is Lynnie, she’s a few years older than me, and she lives in Lewes, Delaware (I looked at A LOT of wonderful real estate there, but we deemed it too far from the Edgewaters), and she sang the praises of her town.  She goes to Zumba and water aerobics (I could just cry), she takes tap lessons from an old Rockette (OMG, how fun!), she participates in everything from book club to Bunco. She was so much fun and just so sweet - she gave me her number and told me to call her if I visited Lewes.  It was almost like having a friend. Waaaaah!

She was a delight. Back to the bookstore.  I fan girl over authors the way some people do over film stars or singers, and Mr. Sedaris didn’t disappoint.  He was warm, witty, engaging, hilarious, and when he signed my book he doodled in it.  It was the flowers from my shirt.  He drew in everyone’s books, making conversation while did a quick sketch and for some reason it was funny.  Mickey got a bird.

I had him sign my book for Matt.  I read the book on my Kindle when it came out last year.  This book tour is to launch the paperback.  Matt is also a fan, and I thought he’d enjoy the book.  I loved it.  Anyway, it was a wonderful evening and we headed home through the cornfields as the sun set.

The following evening Mickey had a big party to photograph so I stayed home and watched the finale of Ted Lasso and bawled.  Oh, it was so satisfying.  If you’re a fan you’ve probably already watched it so I’m not spoiling anything by saying that I was so glad that Rebecca got her happy ending.  But now I’m without my favorite happy, positive people to watch.  Bummer. These two....

and these two....oh, my heart!

*SIGH*  I’ll miss it like I miss Schitt’s Creek.  Good stuff. This weekend we crossed the bridge to celebrate Tyler’s birthday.  We stayed with Little Miss so Ty and Jamie could go run free for a bit, then we all shared dinner, presents, and brownies with ice cream.  It was such fun.  In just a couple of months the grandgirl will be in kindergarten, she’s grown up so much just since we moved here.  We’ll drive over to attend her preschool graduation on Friday.  I know that in the blink of an eye it’ll be middle school and then high school graduation. Yikes!  I’d love to pump the breaks on all of that, but I’m glad we’re here to enjoy it.  On the way home I always try to snap a picture of the big ships lined up in the Chesapeake Bay.

They’re waaaay out there so I can’t get a clear shot from a moving car, but I love seeing them.  I found a website that identifies each ship and its origin country, so I’ll pull it up on my phone and see that one is traveling under the flag of Japan, another from Brazil, or whatever.  You can usually pull up information showing their last port of call and sometimes what they’re carrying.  Don’t ask me why I find it all fascinating, I just do.  I look out at those massive ships and imagine the different languages, music, and meals onboard.  

  In other news, no, they haven’t caught the python yet.  That’s why I gave a resounding NO when the mister asked if I wanted to go kayaking today.  Well, that and kayaking doesn’t interest me at all. But kayaking with a chance of a python popping up is a thousand times less appealing than normal kayaking. Hard pass.  Mickey and I have very different ideas of enjoyable activities, especially for fitness.  He wants to scramble over rocks, drift down rivers (and have to paddle against the current coming back), stomp through poison ivy, and become a host for ticks.  I prefer a nice, climate controlled activity with a group of women, a soundtrack, and maybe a cold beverage afterward.  Zumba, Jazzercise, water aerobics, that sort of thing. I never got a single tick at the Jimmy Floyd pool. Just sayin’.  I’m past the age where I want to be uncomfortable. I get plenty of exercise working in the yard, I get a dose of sunshine, and I can play tunes or a crime podcast while I do it.  Then I sit in my  shady nook on the porch and enjoy a cool drink.  Won’t be long before this patch is all zinnias and sunflowers.

While I was enjoying a beverage in my shady spot, I flipped through the local paper.  There was a section listing all of the “Best of the Chesapeake” from hair salons to BBQ to physicians.  This one made me giggle.

Speech therapists! Can you imagine having a speech issue and having to call and make an appointment with any of those names??  Impossible! I did not see a category for best snake catchers on the Eastern Shore. Oh well, the day is slipping away from me and I need to get dinner started.  Kind of wishing Mickey had something to go photograph so I could just pop some popcorn and say I had veggies for dinner.  Not gonna’ happen, guess I’d better get busy.

Sending out loads of love.  I hope you’ve all had a wonderful weekend.  If not, then be glad it’s over, have a gaze at what’s left of the Strawberry Moon tonight and tell the universe that you need a break from your troubles. Stay safe, stay well. XOXOXO, Nancy

[bottled-up]

Arulia...

So there is significantly less to cover and go over with Arulia than Em so we will be starting with her!

Arulia was originally designed to be a romanceable charcter for a scrapped project from around 2017. She was victorian-ish, Jane Austen vibey situation. Think Elizabeth Bennet at the end of the Pride and Prejudice (2005) in terms of hairstyle and mannerism.

This is one of two sketches I have remaining of this Arulia design. Unfortunately, lots of moving and accidental throwing away of documents has nearly caused this version and design to be lost.

After the scrapping of the project she was originally designed for, I took full possession of her character and pretty much overhauled her design (with a few exceptions).

At the time of taking back control of Arulia, I may or may not have been carzy obsessed with the romance visual novel app The Arcana. So there were, and still are, heavy style influences. Not saying I have banished The Arcana from my life lol (Asra is still and will always be my favorite).

I'll do some comparing and contrasting of the personalities after I get through the designs.

I thought, at the time of Arulia's redesign, it would be fun to use her as the MC for the story. It was fun! But much later it didnt quite feel right.

Arulia's new design was COMPLETELY different from her original concepts. Im talking wildly long hair, harem pants, puffy snow white-like sleeves, a skirt AND a sash, and some hair accessories! Because WHY NOT.

To be completely honest, at the time I was extremely proud of this. A lot of it doesn't make sense, the face shape was wrong, and she looked a lot younger than she actualy is. For some reason though, I still loved this design.

Also I had been exploring new art sytles that really didn't work well with this character.

I mean... to me this was PERFECT. Intil it wasn't. I actually don't think this design lasted the year.

There was too much and not enough happening at the same time. Because of that, I took to reworking the outfit, keeping the things I like and though suited her quite well, went back to her original face shape and picked things from her original design that just made sense to keep.

I think this is much more suited for my girl. It fits a little better with the character I created around her, and she fit pretty ok into the Arcana world.

My favorite parts of this outfit quickly grew Arulia to be my most drawn character. The shirt sleeves, the hair style, the massive earrings, and the simple patterns on her top.

This is the design that eventually got some offical color to it, but I was new to digital art and brand spaking new to procreate so a lot of mistakes were made.

I still think she cute though. Also, yes I borrowed a pose to help visualize how clothing would sit on her body.

I did spend a couple of years just skatching and drawing Arulia on paper though. My art journal from last year and the year before have almost every page with atleast one Arulia on it.

She consumed my every drawing hour. Not by force, because I begged her to.

I think a few months after I setteld on this outfit and look, I explored a couple other options too. What if she had these pants? What it her hair was different? What if she danced?

Had some really cute concepts of that! But nothing really stuck (look out for the pictures when they're found).

I settled on her more simple design because it was easy to draw repeatedly, easy for others draw, and kinda iconic. I had a few people telling me they haddn't see something like Arulia before and quite liked the concept.

That encouraged me to use her as the face of my streaming content until it didn't. More on that for a later time.

For now this is all I have to share, but Arulia, BY FAR, had the most doodles, drawings, and sketches, so look forawrd to seeing more of those.

[creaturefeaster]

this post is sponsored by uppsulka

This post has nothing to do with Uppsulka I just had this doodle sitting for like a day. I just wanted to talk about my last post-- that ask about CQ’s story and the likes. I’ve gotten a handful of messages about it since I answered it (+a couple replies on the post itself) and I wanted to clarify a couple of things.

Please, if you’re worrying that I’m overworking myself, or pushing myself to put stuff out that isn’t ready yet, know that I am certainly not under any pressure to put things out before their due time. I share lots of tidbits about the story on this blog of course, but you may notice that any actual, physical writing for the story is virtually nonexistent on this blog. If I wanted to, I could have shared the drafts long ago, but I’m taking my time and making it perfect (for me). It will be out when it’s ready, and you don’t have to worry about outside pressures/lack of quality.

Another thing! Some of the messages I’ve gotten were in response to some of the tags on the post, as I am known to ramble quite a bit in the tags from time to time. I mentioned the possibility of me seeking out artistic help in the future. The amount of people wanting to help is heartwarming, it really helps me realise just how many people want to see this story come to fruition. However there’s still a long road before the real, official art for the story will come into play.

Finding the right people to help with such a personal project of mine, if I so choose to go down that fork in the road, would be an arduous process in making sure I know and trust those people and their abilities. (I’m also really picky about how my style is drawn, if people were to help. But that’s a discussion for another time) Not everyone has all the time in the world, either! This is a long term project. Keep in mind this story has been developing for over a decade, and while it’s only the last handful of years that I have really kicked everything into overdrive to try and fully piece it all together, it’s still probably got a while to go before I could ever consider it complete. So please, keep all of this in mind.

As I continue structuring and polishing the written story, I wish to release it in divided chunks. When any given chunk comes close to its finish, I’ll be having beta readers scour the texts for a little bit. Placeholder sketches would ideally be littered throughout the story as needed, but by beta reader’s judgement, more or less may be added. That right there, once the beta reading is done, is the end of the road to visuals-ville. That is to say, that’s when I’d start actually drawing out the things that I need.

So now you have some insight on how the process would work. Was it all necessary to explain? Probably not!!! But if I didn’t ramble so much, I don’t think I’d be able to write this story, either. It’s so big x_x.

All of this could be (and probably should have been) summarized to this:

For those who want to help, for those who truly enjoy the content I create for my universe and want to see more of it, I just ask for your support. Seeing likes, reblogs, reading the tags or comments people add onto the content I share, they really, really help keep me motivated. Every piece of fanart makes my day, whether I comment on it or not, I’m always behind the screen getting all giddy and excited that someone cares about the characters and world I’ve poured my heart and soul into. All the asks you guys send, while I can’t always answer all of them, it lets me know there are still people who are interested in the world and want to know more about it. That’s what keeps me wanting to write. So if you want to help, that’s how you can do it right now.

[reidsnose]

doodles

overview: reader doodles on her hands a lot and spencer has to give into the temptation of coloring it in

genre: flufffffff

a/n: sorry ive havent posted a fic in like a week, ive been in quite a slump but i had this idea well after midnight but i just had to write it so lmk what u guys think of this one :)

masterlist

-

-

doodling on your hands: a once nervous habit that had seeped into your everyday life and now is just a regular habit. nearly everyday you would come to work with clean hands and get home with a mini art gallery on your non dominant one.

Spencer admired this from the moment he noticed it. at first he thought you had a tattoo but when you came back the next day with it completely gone, he was a tad confused, only to catch you doodling on that very same hand a couple hours later on the jet. he thought maybe it was an occasional thing, a habit you'd quit once you got better situated into the team, but after nearly a year you still left work almost everyday with some cutesy sketches drawn on your hand.

Spencer found himself looking forward to your doodles, imagining in his head what you might draw each day, and thinking of all the colors you would add if you had the time. being the great profiler that he is, he noticed a pattern: you subconsciously correlated your doodles with your mood.

after especially hard cases or just bad days you always drew roses.

when you were very happy you drew all sorts of fruits.

anxiousness bore little swampy creatures and lily pads.

tired days filled your hands with random, intricate designs that you didn't even have to try hard to make.

and content was anything else.

he was so impressed and absolutely adored your little coping mechanism. watching you concentrate on making those teeny pieces of art simply for your own pleasure was definitely a sight to see. the way your eyebrows furrowed and tongue poked out a bit was absolutely positively adorable. and soon he had noticed that he was looking forward less to the doodles and more to watching you draw them. and after that he began looking forward to just you.

you were sat on the jet with your back to the corner of the last seat on the plane, creating a pattern of roses on the back of your hand. Spencer plopped down in the seat next to you, growing tired of watching from so far away.

"that bad, huh?" he asked, noticing the type of flower you were gracing your hand with.

"hm?" you looked up, confused.

"you only doodle roses on bad days." he explained, pointing to your hand.

"what? no i don't!" you defended, " i just think roses are neat."

to be fair, you were having a bad day but he could've profiled that without the doodle. he cant be right, can he? there was no way you had a mood system for your doodles! unless there was.

"repetitive strokes are therapeutic, so roses being rough days make sense. the spiral in the middle followed by however many layered petals you want is a perfectly repetitive while still interesting enough to doodle."

"if i didn't know any better i'd say you've been spying on me, Dr. Reid," you teased, enjoying the slight rouge that appeared on his cheeks.

"what! no! i'm- i'm a profiler i notice patterns! i just- spying sounds creepy." he stammered.

"ok. how about admiring." you jabbed, turning a little red yourself.

"fine. but you know coloring helps too." he flipped back to the old topic of conversation.

"unfortunately i only have the standard blue, black and red ink."

"roses are red." he chuckled.

"interesting point," you bent down and reached into your bag, pulling out a red pen and handing it to him, "knock yourself out."

"what?" he looked at you slightly bewildered.

"coloring is therapeutic, you said it yourself. and you and i both know that you need something to relax you after a case like that. we all do." you explained, trying to be as nonchalant as you could knowing his skin would touch yours.

he grabbed the pen and clicked it open, coloring smoothly and slowly inside the lines you had already made in black, careful not to go over them and smudge the ink. you and him both tried your best to ignore the warmth shooting through your bodies from every place your hands touched. his fingertips lightly grazing your knuckles as he worked.you worked your way up your arm, giving you both space to work and by the time you landed, you had a half sleeve garden of surprisingly well colored (and somehow shaded) red roses.

you went home that night and bought a pack of colorful (washable) pens, hoping this little rose garden with him wasn't a one time thing. and even if it was, you would want to add your own pop of color to your doodles.

thankfully it wasn't.

you and Spencer found yourselves drawing and coloring on your hand a lot. he would catch you doing it and pop in over your shoulder just to add a touch of color where he thought it fit. and you began to feel sad washing off what the two of you had created that day, feeling nostalgic for time that has hardly passed.

and sometimes on the jet you would get tired of your own skin, so you would draw little doodles on his hand, often times leaving a little heart at the base of his thumb. these little hearts he avoided washing off for as long as he possibly could because they felt like a part of you was always with him. he started doing the same thing to your hand, a sort of signature the two of you shared.

most days, the doodles on your hands were pretty much fully colored in.

but now Spencer began to worry. what if you get ink poisoning because of his coloring? sure, the risk was statistically low, improbable even; but never zero. so one night after work he went out and bought a little sketchbook and on the front he scrawled,

"y/n's super duper special sketchbook"

upon receiving it, after giving him a hug he never wanted to let go of, you took a sharpie and started editing the title he had given it. so it now read:

"y/n and Spencer's super duper special sketchbook"

the two of you used up a whole page that day, front and back filled with all types of fruits. Spencer smiled to himself, knowing this had made you very happy. you took a second to take a step back and admire him doing the very thing he admired you for. and you understood why; he just looked so precious and you suddenly realized you craved the feeling of his hand touching yours. so you leaned over and drew a little black heart at the base of his thumb. he looked up at you, smiling widely before returning a red heart to the base of your thumb.

and you guys tore through that book, using a page a day and filling it cover to cover in no time. your own personal handmade coloring book. it turned out to be both of your most prized possessions, a pang of sadness filling your chests as you finished the last page.

you felt bad taking it home with you that night, wondering if maybe Spencer wanted to keep it. maybe you should keep it at work so you can both have it. thats the fair thing to do. you looked down, smiling sadly at the little red heart on your hand.

he did want to keep it. but he had a better idea in mind. he looked down, smiling excitedly at the little black heart on his hand.

the next day when you arrived to work all your worries were solved. on your desk laid a new sketch book entitled:

"y/n and Spencer's super duper special sketchbook: volume ii"

you laughed as you read a small lilac post it note that said, "i want to keep this one please" signed with a little red heart in the corner.

-

-

ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @coffeereid-deactivated20210303 @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @s1utformgg @violetspoetic

[shirecorn]

how about 17 and 24? what inspires you and how do you deal with art block?

Long post warning.

Art block...

I don't actually get art block, which is probably a combination of neurodivergence and drawing every day for the last 3 years

I wrote an entire tutorial about how to do that, but didn't feel like illustrating it. Would people want to read it even without visuals?

Maybe... I'll just start rambling.

There's a couple different types of art block, and it's really just a philosophy puzzle to get past them. I'm going to assume that the things I think of slow days, or art mud, is a milder form of art block and work through that.

Art block is a symptom, not a disease. You probably have something deep inside that you don't want to face, or don't know how. Sometimes you need to discover the cause, sometimes just power through.

Method 1: Rest

Let yourself just Exist. The act of consuming art is part of the process. Watching shows and playing games, taking a break and going gardening or focus on school. This is what you need for burnout-induced art block.

Method 2: Action

I always choose action, sometimes it means a tiny 2 min sketch per day. Ugly or super simplified. As long as I don't stop moving.

Toss everything. Start every piece thinking you will throw it away.

The act of drawing moves you forward; pinning it to the fridge does not. Don't work things until they are perfect. Work them until they are there.

Art block causes and solutions:

- No Inspiration

Not sure what to draw, nothing seems appealing. Art won't come out like it used to.

Do studies from life or photos. Sketch, paint, digital, traditional, doesn't matter. Rocks, fruit, figure drawing, landscapes, buildings, anything.

Study and copy professional's work. Old masters are best, like rubens, michalangelo (only his men tho) etc because they will teach you anatomy while you work. If you copy someone with a lot of flaws, you will repeat those flaws.

Trace to learn, not to earn. Trace photography and art from anyone you want. Don't post it unless you have the artist's permission or they are dead, whichever comes first. This is strictly work for yourself, on yourself. It's not about the finished drawing.

Find an artist with a fun style and try converting stuff into their style. Don't make that your new style though and especially don't start selling it. Your style is a chimera of everyone you love, not a clone of one person.

Take blurry photos. You don't need a fancy camera or good skills or beautiful subjects. Doing studies from your own photos can spark life into your workflow.

Make challenges for yourself. Randomly generate things to combine. Try fusing characters! Don't try to make it look good, just be fun.

Doodle patterns, swirls, lines, random stuff. Try looking up art warmups and doing some of those.

- Everything Sucks

You finally see how bad you are. Or somehow you got worse. Every piece is a fight and you spend hours trying to get something right only for it to be stiff and disgusting and STILL wrong.

Why are you trying to draw good? It's enough just to draw.

Accept that your art is bad. Every artist can see flaws in their work. Your problem is that those flaws outweigh anything remotely worthwhile and hurt to look at.

So what? You're in a period of growth, not a period of production. Keep that wonky second eye. Let them have hot dog fingers.

Show everyone! Show no one! No piece of art can ever be a reflection of the artist. Not their worth, not their skill. The only thing your art says about you is "Held and moved a pen for a bit."

Make bad art. It's ok. Most of the time, the pressure to perform and get things Right is what made them wrong in the first place. Relax.

- No Motivation

The #1 killer of artists everywhere. On some level you think you should draw, on every other level you think you should stay in bed.

You are not lazy. You wouldn't have read this far in a post about art block if you were lazy. You wouldn't CALL it art block if you were lazy. Laziness is wishing you didn't have to do anything. A block is wishing you were doing something. If you think you can namecall Yourself into productivity again, you're wrong and You need to unionize so that you don't treat You like that anymore.

Consider Mental Illness. Losing interest in something that brought you joy can be a symptom of depression. I know it seems obvious, but if you're waiting for a sign that it's "bad enough," it's bad enough. Seek care if you have the means. Forgive yourself if you already know this.

Selfcare. Examine yourself for neglect. Nutrition, exercise, enrichment, social need, and sleep are all part of the art process. Eat three meals and sleep 8 hours. That's your gaymer fuel. You deserve it, I promise. Depriving yourself of your needs will make your blocks worse, not kick you into making them better.

Identify potholes. Sketchbook falling apart? Tablet cord frayed? Half your pencils missing? Chair uncomfortable? Desk hard to reach? There's a lot of things that you tell yourself to work around and get over. Just because you CAN workaround something, doesn't mean you SHOULD. A difficult work environment can cause secret dread deep inside that you don't recognize and just think you're lazy. What you think of as "no motivation" might actually be "I don't want to deal with my tablet disconnecting every time I move it wrong and I have to wiggle it for a few seconds to make it work again." These little things are like potholes in the road. Sure you CAN still drive through them, but eventually you're going to look up and realize you haven't voluntarily left the house in weeks.

Repair potholes and roadblocks. You might feel bad about buying a new pencil, headphones, tablet, car, etc because technically the old one works if you hustle. But if you're running into so many potholes you've ground to a halt, it doesn't Actually work anymore, does it? Invest, save up, request, and require working equipment and suitable conditions. This stuff isn't just cushy privilege, it's an investment in yourself and your art. You are worth the effort it takes to clear the way. If you can't afford reliable (reliable! not perfect or luxurious) equipment, then say it. If cardboard is all you can afford, draw on cardboard. But know that you deserve canvas, and one day you might be able to make the jump. Acknowledge that sometimes, if you don't have it in you to smear burned twigs on wet cardboard, the problem isn't motivation, but opportunity.

- Haven't Drawn in So Long

A unique type of art block that self perpetuates. The thought of starting again is so stressful you can't do it. Or maybe you'll do it tomorrow. Yeah. Tomorrow for sure.

Face your fears. Are you ashamed of your lack of drawing? Are you anthropomorphizing your paper and thinking it's going to judge you, like "oh NOW you come back >:/" I internalize voices I hear and project them onto other people, concepts, locations, and inanimate objects. Your paper, computer, WIPs folder.... none of that is judging you.

Reframe your WIPs. Do you feel shame when you see "unfinished" projects? Why? Who says you MUST bring everything you start to Finish? You don't have to. A sketch is a finished art piece; it's called a sketch! If a sketch is a fully realized creation, pages that are half colored, 75% lined, or partially rendered are all fully realized creations too. Unless paid otherwise, art is done when you're done working on it.

Lower the stakes. Draw a chibi or grab some crayons. Get messy and slowly ease yourself back into the flow over the course of a couple days. It's fine.

Get a buddy! Find an art meme, do an art trade, get a study subject, or just wing it. Drawing art alongside someone can help you get past that block.

Pretend you never stopped. Don't think about the gap, how long it's been, or rustiness. As far as anyone knows, you drew the mona lisa yesterday and didn't break a sweat. Today, you drew a starfish on your hand with a gel pen. Keep up that streak, good job!

Just keep drawing. Make a goal to do one sucky drawing per day on the back of a napkin. Don't make up for missed days, just pretend they didn't happen. Who's going to judge you? The calendar? That's pieces of paper; it doesn't have an opinion. Draw a cat on it. Done. Keeping up the momentum is a great way to prevent art blocks in the future.

TLDR: Draw imperfectly and toss it. Selfcare is king. Draw often and don't judge yourself.

Art is a process, not a product.

[sunshinemoonrx]

Space RPG: Characters

Following on my previous post here--

Here's a post on the four main characters for this game and associated stories, some OCs that have been bouncing around in my head for a while. I'll start with the two mentioned in the previous post, who are going to be the party members for this first iteration, and then talk about the two who are going to be side characters/antagonists for this, but in theory graduate to party members in future instalments.

You can see the piece I've commissioned from an actual professional artist in the last post, so this one is just gonna be my quick little design sketches (alongside some images of their visual inspirations), and I'm not an artist, so y'know, these are just the images I supply to artists for reference, some of them doodled at work in whatever notebook I had to hand.

Lyra

An exciteable and overconfident space archaeologist who nevertheless exaggerates those aspects of herself to hide how observant she can be. Usually drives the plot as she flies around the universe to study one mysterious site or artefact after another. Mechanically, she's the primary character; you only game over if she goes down, but she can't take damage if she has another character to block for her, and she's the only one with access to the items menu, using those and her abilities to buff, back up and direct around our next character--

2. Vega

Lyra's bodyguard, rough and gruff and definitely doesn't care about you and has never felt an emotion in her life, shut up. She was originally hired as a mechanic, and Lyra quickly put her to work building a Metal Hero style power-suit she'd designed, that Vega now wears to fight (I still need to design this fucking thing). Also yeah there's a couple of those images up there where she's a catgirl, that's just an occasional side effect of her space HRT, try not to mention it, it really ruins her stoic image.

3. Cass (Cassiopeia)

As you can see, I got the basic design down instantly and then spent a million years fussing over what shape her hair and head should be. Anyway, the concept for Cass started as "I'm gay and I want a bunnygirl in my space game", but I started relating really hard to the clumsy, inept goofball who alternates between happy-go-lucky and "my job is so boring, uuugh" that emerged. She's a deliberately cartoony character, so things like her frighteningly-inhuman strength and the way her bunny-ears headband emotes with her will never be explained.

Cass is a minor crew-member helping pilot the great royal flagship Andromeda, though she's honestly pretty unclear on who the person in charge is and doesn't much care. Someone who definitely can't say the same is--

4. (Sir) Helen

Helen, by contrast, is one of the most important people on the Andromeda, a knight tasked with protecting the princess who owns the ship. I still have yet to really figure out the princess--other than she has a pretty specific personal grudge that leads to her following the two protagonists around the universe annoying and competing with them, dragging these other characters into the plot--but Helen is fervently devoted to her, willing to go to any lengths for her safety and happiness. For now she doesn't act on her feelings, preferring the ideal of chivalric courtly love, but that results in her being pretty pent-up.

(Also, I might change her name at some point, it's not quite set.)

As mentioned, these latter two will become party members at some point, but for the first game Cass will be more of a side character, and Helen an occasionally-recurring boss. So I think I'll save talking about their planned mechanics for when I get into the game systems they interact with. (And yeah, I do have characters that are other things in mind, but it is a very girl-heavy cast because uhhhhh that's what I wanna write.)

I have started to make a build of the game, so here's the placeholder sprites I'm using for them for the moment, for completeness' sake-

In most cases these are reinterpretations of the designs according to what RPGMMV's generator can do to communicate their basic essence (Vega's hair in particular is nothing like that), with the exception of Helen, whose design I was pretty vague on until I clicked the mask accessory and it all clicked into place.

That's it for this post! I don't know how often I'll do these, but it's good for making me actually make progress. Probably the next one I'll do will be on the physical 'outline' of the game in terms of its size and the maps I've made.