#i inked this page today but it was already sketched

[crescentmoonrider]

We are bleeding We did try our best so don't go pleading Let it washed away as we kiss for the last

i started this little comic back in 2019, and since i just recently did a bbb re-read i thought it was about time i finished it haha

more context for this AU can be found in this post, but basically Nej is "working" at a spore extraction factory, and since that's super fucked up and also the spores are used for crime stuff, Zapp, Chain, and Leo go in there to free the Mushroom Beyondians and destroy the place

Leo is still not great at combat tho, so uh. Sorry baby boy, you're getting beaten up o7

(Nej is gonna fetch Zapp and everything will be fine, don't worry)

[lovewithasideoffries]

xavier drawing on you drabble

fluff, really short

Xavier had been extra fidgety today. He couldn't focus in class at all, eyes trained on his page as he drowned out Ms. Thornhill’s teaching. She caught on soon, noticing how he wasn't present in the conversation at all and decided the way to fix that was by taking away his sketchbook.

“Your grades in this class are already dropping dangerously low, Mr. Thorpe. I suggest you pay attention,” she told him sternly, taking his book and placing it on her desk. She then added, “And I better not find any ink on that table after class!” 

Which leads to where you are now. Hand on his thigh in hopes of stopping its anxious bouncing while he twirls a pen in his hands, desperately trying to calm himself. It’s useless though, drawing is what he’s always done when his mind gets restless like this, but he can't exactly do it now, with nothing to draw on.

It's then that the idea pops into your head. Gently, you take the pen from his twitching hands and he looks at you curiously. You uncap the pen and write the words ‘draw on me :)’ onto your arm, passing it back to Xavier and smiling at him. 

He nods gratefully and takes the pen in his long fingers. He bites his lip as he gets to work inking your arm. You enjoy the light scratchy feeling on your skin as he decorates it in little drawings. Mostly of flowers he finds in the room and you, his greatest inspiration. 

By the end of class, you’ve got a sleeve of sketches and designs black ink. Thankfully, Xavier chose to work on your non-dominant side, so you were still able to take notes. Ones that you make a mental note to share with your boyfriend later.

[makos-hotbox]

könig with an artist s/o that sneaks a page of sketches of him into his stuff when he has to leave for deployment. maybe he finds it when he's unpacking back at wherever he's stationed- i feel like (when he's deployed) this man really needs some reminder that there is softness in his life, that there's someone who's waiting for him ya know?

LARGE FONT VER.

… 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐘

`⌁ ◜ 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐢’𝐦 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐢 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐢 ��𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐝𝐨! ◞

The black pen smudged on the paper slightly as you finished writing your signature. A small lovely note written for your boyfriend who was being deployed again. You had drawn and sketched out a bunch of pictures for König while he was home.

Whenever you two would be sitting with each other in silence, you would usually whip out your notebook and start drawing the beautiful large man. Making sure to always include the smallest of details because that’s what you loved about König.

Stacking up the various sheets of paper with the note to König on top, you stapled them together and hid them in his bag for him to find later.

Later that day, the two of you kissed each other goodbye as König made his way to work. And you internally hoped he would be able to come back again.

!!!

A frustrated König stomped his way into his room, hands ruffling through his bag in hopes to find literally anything that would help calm him down. He had done some training today to make sure he wasn’t rusty after being home longer than usual, and none of it had gone well. He missed multiple easy snipes in the shooting range and even pulled a few muscles during combat stuff. He was pissed.

Growing even more frustrated that he couldn’t find what he wanted from his back, he lifted the whole thing and turned it upside down, emptying the bag onto the floor. König’s eyes immediately landed on a stapled stack of papers, noticing the familiar signature on the bottom of the top page.

Grabbing the papers, he quickly began to settle down. Reading the note you had written for him. Boasting about your love for the large man and how much he meant to you. That you wished he would come safe.

That was a great thing to hear for König. You wanted him to come home. Sweet you, the love of his life, you. König’s demeanor changed completely now, he was relaxed and gushing silently over your fantastic words. You had him wrapped around your finger and he didn’t care one bit.

König began to turn through the pages. There were some messy pencil sketches of König sitting in different positions. Different facial expressions and even full artwork of him. It made him feel kind of confident in himself. You drew this, you drew him. He didn’t think he could fall in love anymore than he already has.

Shuffling to the last of the pages, a fully inked and colored version of König took up the whole paper. It was badass, he was in his gear with his mask and everything, even his gun. He fucking loved it and wanted to frame it on the wall when he got home. And on the final page was another full art of König, but this time with you. The reference was from a picture you had taken for your anniversary, but it looked the exact same. The two of you sitting next to each other as you placed a surprise kiss on König’s cheek. Your friend had taken the picture while they were stalking your dinner date and called it the cutest thing ever. Especially since König looked absolutely ecstatic.

König couldn’t help but smile at the picture in his hand, feeling a slight tease of emotion coming in. But how could he not? He missed you. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to him. He just wants to go home. To tell you how much he loves the art you always make for him, and how much he loves you as well. Call him cheesy but as long as you always draw these pictures for König, he will be the cheesiest man alive.

REQUESTS :: OPEN

» 𝐟𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 … 𝐣𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐱𝐱

[hairmetal666]

Steddie Notes BONUS PART

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

Eddie wakes up to an empty bed. He’s a little surprised, honestly, since he had his heart set on first anniversary morning sex. Though, based on the smells wafting through their apartment, Steve’s making breakfast, which is an acceptable alternative (plus, if he has it his way, they aren’t leaving the bed again today).

The digital alarm clock on his bedside table is obscured by a Composition Book he doesn’t remember bringing to bed. He reaches for it before his brain registers the red ink dragon sketched on the cover. His hands tremble as he flips it open, but the first few pages are written in his own scrawl. Steve’s handwriting doesn’t appear until 10 pages in and Eddie’s heart stutters at the sight.

March 28, 1986

God, Eddie, I’m so sorry. So, so fucking sorry. I can’t— I’m sorry. I should have been there, I should’ve protected you, I should’ve kept you safe. 

You wouldn’t be part of this if it weren’t for me. Robin and Dustin keep telling me that's not true, that Chrissy was already cursed but. Robin is here because of me. Erica-fucking Sinclair is here because of me. And now you. And you’re dying. And it’s my fault. 

I don’t even know what I’m doing right now, but I can’t just sit and wait, I’d lose my mind. Anyway. You left this notebook in my trunk, and I hope you don’t mind that I’m using it. 

I don’t think I’ve ever been this terrified in my life, Eds.

Please don’t die on me. I can’t live in this world without you. 

March 29, 1986

Hey Eds

You made it through the night. I can’t fucking believe it. I ripped Robin’s shirt when the doctor came in to tell us that you were out of surgery and stable, and then he dropped the bomb that your chance of surviving the night was 40%. Forty-fucking-percent. I guess you beat the odds, babylove.

I’m with Uncle Wayne at your bedside. He threw a fit to make sure I could be here whenever I wanted, and that everyone could visit.

You’ve missed some wild shit, Munson, you’re going to be so mad when you wake up. 

Come back to me, sweet boy. I can’t take this.

March 30, 1986

Made it through a second night, babe. 

I hope you wake up soon. 

Miss you like crazy. 

I keep looking at you in this hospital bed, and you look so fucking small. I hate it. You’re the loudest voice in the room. You don’t just take up space, you demand it. It’s killing me that I haven’t heard your voice in days. And my brain, it keeps filling in things you would say, and I wait for you to speak up, but of course you don’t. It’s a kick to the balls every single time. 

The thing is. 

The thing is that I need you to wake up, Eddie. You can’t leave me. I made up my mind a long time ago, we’re spending our lives together. And it can’t fucking end now. It can’t end because of this. 

And I need you to open your goddamn beautiful eyes so I can tell you how much I love you. You don’t get to go before you hear me say it, do you understand?

I love you. You’re it for me. I’ve never wanted a forever as much as I want one with you. So, you have to wake up, yeah? You have to wake up so we can grow up, have a family, have a life together. 

Promise you won’t leave me, Eds.

March 31, 1986

You woke up, you motherfucker. The doctors kicked me out to look you over and I cried so hard in the bathroom that Robin made El break down the door with her powers. 

Thank you for coming back. I won’t ever let you go again.

April 7, 1987

I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m giving this to you, babylove. It’s been a year. Look how far we’ve come. 

✏️✏️✏️✏️

September 18, 2015

It’s way too fucking early for Eddie to even be awake and he has the day off. Steve asked him to take vacation months ago, didn’t say why, and now that fucker has the audacity to not even be in the house. And like, sure, they’ve been together for close to thirty years, and Eddie knows that Steve goes for a run at the ass crack of dawn.

Still pisses him off, though. 

Eddie huffs down to the kitchen to get coffee started, doing a double take when he sees a familiar black Composition Book with red dragon on the cover. 

He walks towards it slowly because this has been framed on the wall since their first anniversary, way back in ’87, and Steve isn’t home.

Eddie opens it, re-reads the panicked, lovesick notes Steve wrote in the hospital, doesn't bother to fight back the tears. He gets to the last letter and the paper is stiff and wrinkled, like it took water damage. Eddie flips the page, grief already pumping through his veins.

What he sees instead is college-ruled notebook paper, glued in place. It reads:

“I fucking hate this class.”

“Tell me about it.”

“trig. You?”

“Algebra 2 :(” 

A sound escapes his mouth, something between a laugh and a sob.

“Hey man, I'm pretty sure I fucked things up with us, and I owe you an apology. I've always known who you were, but you had no idea I was me...”

“Anyone ever tell you you’re kind of beautiful, Munson?”

“Watch. The. Movie. This is the last time we get high first if this is how you behave.”

 “What are you gonna win me at the fair, Harrington?” 

 “If you’re nice to me, probably something cute.” 

“Eddie…I think I really like you

You’re my favorite person in the entire world

Some days you’re the only thing I can think about

I want to wake up in bed with you everyday

I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss you

Do you like me? Yes or No”

“What are you doing about Hellfire?”

“Huh?”

“If the game is Friday. Lucas can’t do both.”

“He made his choice.”

“You ever been in love?”

No, but I think I’m falling”

“I love you, Eddie”

All the sketches of the sailor boy and the rockstar are there, even the one Eddie stuck to the poster in his room, though how Steve managed to get that is anyone’s guess.

There are pictures too, Eddie and Max still recuperating in the hospital; Corroded Coffin performing at the Hideout; them holding the keys to the bar, Steve shirtless and hammering something while Eddie looks on, with the increasingly popular bands Eddie booked to play their must-see Friday night slots; Steve on his first day of college and one of him jumping into Eddie’s arms in his graduation gown, mortar board slipping off his head; In the hospital cradling their twin girls with Max giving a weary thumbs-up between them. Shot after shot of their family, their life, their dreams coming true. A scrapbook of their lives together, big moments and small; good and bad. 

Eddie’s crying freely as he flips through the rest of the book, still fucking astounded that Steve is the love of his life, that they’re making a forever together.

Eddie flips to the last page. Stops dead. 

In Steve’s looped handwriting, unchanged since high school, it says:

“Eddie, 

         Will you marry me?”

“What the fuck?” He yelps, standing up fast enough that his chair crashes to the floor. 

He turns and Steve— his reason for being, the man that brought him back from the dead—Steve Harrington, is down on one knee, something silver glinting in his outstretched hand.

“Eddie,” he says, his voice a wreck. “Marry me?” 

Eddie crashes to his knees, shoving at Steve’s shoulder. “You’re such an idiot.”

Steve laughs. “Is that a yes?”

Eddie laughs too, but it quickly morphs into a sob, “Of course it’s a yes, Steve. Of course.”

Hands trembling, Steve slips the ring onto Eddie’s hand. It’s a thin silver band with skeletal hands contorted into an infinity symbol. 

They fall into a kiss that rips the breath from Eddie’s lungs, but then that’s nothing new. When they finally pull apart Eddie asks, “why today?”

Steve blushes and grabs at the back of his neck. “Thirty-one years ago, I walked into Mundy’s class and found a note on the window ledge.” 

“What the fuck.” Eddie’s mouth drops, his heart stuttering. This man.

“Once I figured out you leaving that note was going to be one of the most important moments of my life? I made sure to never forget.”

“Baby.” Eddie pulls Steve in for another kiss. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

Steve tugs at Eddie’s hand. “C’mon.”

“Where we going?” 

“The girls will be here in a couple hours, and I have some things I want to do to you before they’re home.”

“The GIRLS?” Eddie shrieks. “How the hell long have you been planning this? Did they KNOW?”

“Since the end of June,” Steve answers without missing a beat. “And of course they know. Everyone knows. I asked Wayne for his blessing.” 

Eddie can’t speak, his heart crashing in his chest as he, once again, thanks whatever entity made it possible for him to have this.

“I’ve been in love with you for over half my life, Eds. I wanted to do this right. You deserve it. We deserve it.” 

He pulls Steve into his arms, kissing him hard enough that their teeth clack, but neither of them care.

✏️✏️✏️✏️

When they come home from dinner, as Steve reaches in his pocket for his keys to let the entire family in the house to celebrate their engagement, he finds a gum wrapper tucked in with the metal. He unfolds it, the words within unfurling in his heart, his soul.

"Thank you for giving me forever, sweetheart."

Edited: check out the full version on ao3!

This is officially the end! I hope you enjoyed this little (long) bonus part. Thanks for reading! 💜💜💜

@gaysonthefloor @little-gae-shit @ineffablecolors @mojowitchcraft @hiscrimsonangel @thegingerrapunzel @adelicioustragedy @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @im-sam-fucking-winchester @rainydays35 @gobbledy-gluk-gluk @gay-stranger-things @sherilitchi @gezell-igg @leather-and-freckles @bornonthesavage @ramyayaya @awkwardgravity1 @chaoticvictorianspirit @thosemessyvibes @beeing-stuupid @silentiumdelirium @freyaforestafay @thatbitchgayasf @sapphirecobalt-1 @sahh-dude @adorkfromnewyork @ollie-in-gray @extralegobrick @snapshotmaestro

@fandomgenderz @nuttychaosface @thatcottagewitch @idoquitelikebread @shinekocreator @savveth @mackfrfr0 @yourebuckingkiddingme @steddieassheg0es @gamerdano @thebig-smoke @questionablequeeries @zerokrox-blog @thegingervulcann @charlies-candid-corner@perpetual-trashcan @sleepy-rainedrop @marvelous-musicals @hoffmannwrites @fromapayphone @courtjestermunson@juicinmyjams @daydreaming-mood @aceflavouredyougurt @emly03 @pille1983 @darcyshandflex @anteaterballs @adankrivervalleynearyou @didntwant2come @kittsu-makes-glass @alienace

@somewhereatdawn @5pac3g1r7 @thequeervibes @paperbackribs @bitchysunflowerr @knitsforthetrail @wrenisflying @plasticcrotches @demoniccorvid @em9515 @savory-babby @loverliner @aceacebaby42

@trainchomp @anaibis

[drawloverlala]

July/2024 - Commissions and Shop- Status update-

July is here and we are now halfway the year!

About Commissions:

🍩 sketch pages:

from April are almost all finished, I just have one more to finish as of today, I'll probably be announcing when I'll open some slots next week.

In any case I'll be also opening a few other slots on August!

🍩 Illustration commissions:

5 out of 12 finished

one is almost finished so it would be 6 finished soon

there's around 6 more to finish after that one and I already started working on 2, hopefully next week I'm able to start the other 4

🍩 Comic page commissions:

the one with 5 pages is now with 3 out of 5 pages inked and with base colors, needs inking of 1, needs pencils on another

I'm thinking on working on this one for one entire week so I can finally finish it lol

☕Ko-fi Shop:

I haven't had any purchases after I sent last batch of orders yet, but I've been working on some concepts for new items in the meantime! hopefully I have these ready on August!

Here's a peek at what I've been working on at the moment

Here's some sketches for stickers with some Sonic girls, I may also make an illustration with all of them together.

This one I want to make it a magnet

I've also thought on some Sonic Skyline stickers and illustration

and some other sticker ideas plus some bookmark concepts

Besides that, I want to remake a few old drawings so I can make them prints, besides of new illustrations

So yeah, I'll be working on these! I'm really looking forward to have these live on the shop! 😄

That's all for now! have a wonderful month!

[purplespacekitty]

Three generations of Sisko men gathered close for a jambalaya dinner in Ben's ancient Bajoran lightship, as illustrated by celebrated science fiction writer, Benny Russell. Russell keeps a souvenir baseball on his desk, signed by the legendary Willie Hawkins. In the corner, Russell stashes the sketch that gave him the inspiration for this family's story: space station Deep Space Nine.

Deep Space Nine is my favorite Trek. It has nuanced, 3-dimensional characters who become part of the show's world over the course of 7 seasons. There are some off plot lines here and there but for the most part, the story seems to write itself. I've written at length on here about how much I love Captain Benjamin Sisko and I'd like to share a project of mine I did for a class (I have so far managed to fit Star Trek into three separate final projects for three separate classes, one of which I already posted about here).

Through the lens of Sisko's character, I wanted to examine Deep Space Nine's portrayal of Black masculinity, fatherhood and Afrofuturism with three episodes (although one's a two-parter): "Homefront" (Part I), "Paradise Lost" (Part II), "Explorers" (which I made a post about here) and "Far Beyond the Stars". Initially, the idea was to focus on Ben's fatherhood to Jake, how from the viewer's side of the screen, the two of them break down numerous racial stereotypes around Black men, an important thing to remember with DS9's debut not being far removed from the end of the Reagan Administration, from which sprung stereotypes of "absent Black fathers" and "welfare queens." As I continued with this project, I found I also wanted to analyze how Sisko's relationship with his own father informs his parenting of Jake and what it means to have three generations of Siskos in one room, on one planet. That was how I got "Explores" and "Homefront" and "Paradise Lost" in there, as I wanted to showcase episodes that focus on these exact dynamics.

"Far Beyond the Stars" offers a window into Earth's history as a commentary on racism within creative circles and the systemic racism that shapes the world we live in today and the world of Deep Space Nine. It not only invites viewers into the life of Benny Russell, a Black science fiction writer from the 1950s, but also invites us to consider the link between the future he envisioned of the life that Sisko leads in the 24th century as a Black spaceship/space station captain, father, son, husband and cook who carries the weight of his ancestors' legacy on his shoulders and the reality Russell himself lives in day by day. "You are the dreamer and the dream" has a whole lot more gravity to it when you recognize it as less of an obvious observation of what we've known and been shown throughout the episode (Avery Brooks plays both Sisko and Russell) and more of a nod to the Black future that Sisko inhabits and that Russell dreams of. As a creation of Benny Russell, Sisko and his family are Afrofuturism in a nutshell, carrying on the cultures, stories and knowledge of their ancestors as they live their lives in a future those ancestors imagined and built. Furthermore, Benny Russell's Deep Space Nine is not only important because it features a Black space station captain but also because it encapsulates a fragment of Russell's drive to write his own stories for himself and his Black readers, to breathe life into his creations, to share his art in the ways that he wants to. To cherish his experiences and ideas and imagination and reality through the creative process of putting pen to paper, stamping ink to page, painting scenes to canvas.

The DS9 finale was originally going to see Benny Russell wistfully wandering the promenade alone and implicate him as the creator of not just the story of Deep Space Nine, but of the Star Trek franchise as a whole. Obviously, this concept did not make the cut, but Strange New Worlds' "Elysium Kingdom" follows another story written by Russell, solidifying him as a real person who lived in the 20th century within the Star Trek universe and who presumably continued to write stories that got published after the events of "Shadows and Symbols".

Comprised of screenshots from "Explorers", "Homefront", "Paradise Lost", "Far Beyond the Stars", "Shadows and Symbols" and "Civil Defense" - in which Dukat flicks Sisko's baseball off his desk - (and also a picture of a random coffee table taken by me because we see surprisingly very little of Benny's desk), the collage above is my humble attempt to honor Benny Russell and his creative vision.

[scarlet-cookie]

Ink Demonth 2024 Day 5 : Secret

Secret

Thomas winced as the old wooden door produced an ear-piercing sound against the ancient floor. He carefully scanned the room, ensuring nobody was hiding inside.

A king-sized bed by a cabinet just by the door, the floral patterned, dull green walls, a closet with a door that’s barely hanging on its hinges diagonally opposite to the bed, and a large, wooden desk and chair by the window opposite to the door.

Thomas slowly made his way in.

Wally and his wife left to go into town today, so they asked Thomas to babysit the kids. In truth, he was already crashing at their place, so it wasn’t a difficult favor. In any case, they were probably also concerned about him suddenly disappearing again.

He let out a long sigh.

Thomas’ gaze swept across the room again, landing on a single, seemingly insignificant notebook among the piles of paper on the desk. He quickly made his way over, softening his steps as to not wake up the napping children.

The notebook was clearly at least a decade in age, just from the texture of the leather cover Thomas could feel alone. Any paper sticking out was clearly yellow, even browning at the edges.

The cover seemed to be intentionally repeatedly scratched with a sharp object, as there are many marks clustered here and there, and just some marks scrawled around. It was as if someone tried to murder the book.

One of these marks was definitely the place where the original owner engraved his name.

Thomas’ finger swept over one of the spots and tried to imagine a name there.

Henry Stein..

He looked back down, before quietly opening the notebook.

The first few pages were of not much importance. There were sketches of unknown characters, and nearly neat handwriting pointing out the flaws in each design, or to self-memo. Each page was marked with a date.

He then landed on a page.

April 13th.

It contained grievances about Joey, worries, concerns and the like.

The bottom of the page was dyed black.

Thomas’ traced his finger up to the next page.

The next page was entirely black in color, its hard texture indicating that it was dried ink.

Thomas took a sharp breath.

He turned the page.

The handwriting had changed, so did the drawing style. It became sloppy, like an amateur artist attempting his first drawing. It continued on for a few pages.

Until it all became handwriting entirely.

Thomas’ eyes widened as he read the contents.

“[scribbled out date]

The ink machine…”

“[scribbled out date]

Sammy is starting to act strange..”

“[scribbled out date]

Susie has left us.”

“[scribbled out date]

It’s too dangerous. Everyone’s acting too rashly.”

“[scribbled out date]

Joey doesn’t seem to like Alan too much.”

“[scribbled out date]

The meeting with Nathan wasn’t in the appointments. Just how many people is truly in the know of this insane scheme?”

“[scribbled out date]

If someone finds this notebook, here are the things you need to know…”

As the words kept going on and on, and the secrets Thomas desperately tried to hide from the world was laid bare for him to see through the eyes of someone else, he felt his chest tighten.

Just as the sentences slowly reached the date when the near destruction of the ink machine happened, he felt the strong urge to shut the book in shame.

However, the last sentence on one of the pages stopped him.

“If you’re Thomas- god, I hope it’s you, Tom. 

Then you should keep reading.

I’m sure it’ll be useful to you.

Sorry.

Sorry I can’t help anymore than this.”

Thomas stared blankly at those words for a moment.

He carefully flipped to the last page.

It was empty.

He took in a deep breath, then began to retrace back to the latest page.

“Dorothy Newsome is the one who tipped off the news station.

She asked me for intel. This is her point of contact : ……”

After the method of contact, the writings stopped there.

That incident had happened a little over two weeks ago.

Wally was still writing down every little thing, solving, investigating and eliminating the red herrings by himself.

Thomas closed that book gently.

He gazed outside for a long, long time.

The realization that he wasn’t alone to bear the burden of those horrifying secrets began to slowly settle on to him.

Bendy : The Untrusted AU - Act 3 (Part 3/5)

[nomoreusername]

Silent Coffee Dates (Part 1)

Pairing:Sonya x female reader

Summary:When you go to return Sonya's book, you end up staying the night.

The routine hasn't changed for two years. Every Saturday morning at six I show up at Camila's Coffee, ordering every meal there as well, before coming back at seven in the evening. Approximately eight hours after me Sonya shows up. On Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays I come here at four in the afternoon. She shows up around an hour later. After that I'm here any moment I can for the rest of the days knowing she won't be making an appearance.

That routine didn't stop today either. I was sitting at our booth in the very corner with my headphones in and sketch pad out. Beside me was a cup of hot chocolate. After all, I'm here for the peace. Not to taste a bitter drink.

Eventually, I only started showing up because she did. She sat across from me with either her book or her homework out and whatever drink she had decided to pick for the day. While she focused on that I lightly sketched her features. Occasionally, I would turn to other drawings and ideas that I had abandoned. Most of the time though it was her face I had on my paper since we were only together for a few hours. That isn't a lot of time for realism, but by now I'm sure I could draw her with my eyes closed.

As the sun started setting in the horizon she sighed before packing up her things. I just remained seated as I fixed the way I had drawn her hair just a little too dark. Without so much as a goodbye or see you later she was out the door. That was what was expected though. Despite being in our own little bubble at this place it was always popped when she left.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As the already almost vacant shop completely filed out I packed my things. Once I slid out of the booth I saw a red book with no cover on the front. Giving into my curiosity I picked it up. The spine was cracked as if someone constantly folds it while reading. It also has that old book smell. The one that seems to be a mix of dust and ink.

Deciding that maybe I could discover the owner of I took a look I opened it and peaked inside. Written on the front was the name Sonya.

Now even though we've never exchanged any words I knew her name. I've seen her write it on paper, and now that I think about it I do recall her bending the spines when she reads. At least, she doesn't dog ear the pages. That would be a true tragedy.

One other thing I knew about her was where she lived. Before you assume anything I'm not a stalker. While we live in opposite sides of town I used to ride her bus when I would babysit this little kid. He's in middle school now, but I suppose that's unrelated to the story.

Thinking it through for a moment I slipped it in my bag and headed out the door. Seeing as it's growing dark and I'm a teenage girl I should really hurry up. If I'm going to give it to her I'd prefer not getting kidnapped along the way.

Getting on my old bike with its creaky wheels and rusted bell I slung my bag over my back. Putting up the kickstand I pushed off.

As the evening, autumn air brushed past my face I resisted the urge to burry myself in my old sweater. For one, I like being able to see. Second, I'm still in a hurry. Besides, if I hesitate to do this I may not do it at all.

While normally I would give it to her the next time I see her she brings this one with her every time. Clearly, it must have some meaning to her. Even if it doesn't she has to carry it with her for a reason. After all, my sketchbook goes everywhere with me. If I lost it I would tear my entire apartment apart until it was safe in my hands. If it wasn't there I'd go through every inch of my school, neighborhood, and everywhere else you can think. To sum it up I won't let her be worried that something happened to the item she's so attached to. Our silent coffee meetups indirectly meant we were friends. It just so happens we don't actually communicate.

It's better than nothing though. I'm much too used to having nobody. It doesn't seem like Sonya's leaving though, and that means a lot to me.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As I was in her neighborhood I really took in the difference between ours. Before you make any assumptions I don't live in the ghetto. Not that I judge people who do. Some people are just in unfortunate situations.

To put it lightly my family's pretty broke so being back in this area that was hardly one step below a gated community is sort of like a culture shock.

As I carefully started walking my bike alongside me in fear of accidentally running into someone I heard quick shuffling and an irritated hmph. I turned around to see an older woman glaring at me. With a sigh and an eye roll I kept walking. How dare I walk in her big, fancy neighborhood when my clothes aren't all nice and ironed. My black hoodie obviously means I'm a criminal mastermind.

People like her really need to get a life. It doesn't seem healthy to be so worried about strangers. As I stated earlier I'm a teenage girl. What could she possibly be thinking that I'm capable of?

As I rounded a corner I spotted someone I hadn't seen in a while. While his hair was still in unruly curls, and he was as happy as I remembered, he had grown a significant amount.

"Hey Chuck,"I called. He snapped his head towards me before his eyes lit up.

"Hi Y/N,"He excitedly waved. Deciding it couldn't hurt I headed over and put my kickstand down.

"What have you been up to? How's middle school treating you?"I asked.

"It's alright,"He shrugged. "I kind of miss you getting to babysit me though,"He admitted, putting babysit in air quotes. He was a good kid so I basically just made dinner, made sure he was got to bed on time (which was negotiable on weekends) and made sure he didn't do anything dangerous. Sometimes, it felt more like hanging out with a friend.

"You're twelve now. You don't need me to look after you,"I reminded him, ruffling his hair. He swatted at my hand while still wearing his bright grin.

"I'm not twelve. I'm twelve and a half,"He defended.

"Of course Chuck. I'm sorry for forgetting,"I chuckled.

"What are you doing here anyway?"He asked, cocking his head to the side.

"I'm returning something to my friend,"I explained.

"Can I come?"He quickly asked, almost bouncing on his heels.

"It's getting late, Chuck."

"Please. It's a Friday."

"I just don't want you to be out after dark,"I explained.

"But I'm chivalrous, and I'll listen to you,"He promised.

"If your mom says so then I guess I'll let you come,"I gave in. He sprinted to his house before yelling though the door.

"Can I go walk around the neighborhood with Y/N?! Please!"He begged. After a moment she came outside and looked for where I was. When she spotted me she walked over and hugged me.

"You've grown so much. Look at you. You're almost taller than me,"She exclaimed, pulling away. If I'm being honest she's sort of like a second mom to me. They're pretty much my other family. This place was my home away from home. Even though I don't work for them anymore I know they wouldn't mind having me over. Not that I would ask though. Requesting things from someone isn't something I do.

"Where are you going? Especially, when it's getting late. You don't exactly live a short walk away,"She pointed out.

"I'm just returning something to a friend,"I explained. "And Chuck was asking if he could go with."

She looked at me before looking back at her son who was still practically begging. With a nervous sigh she shook her head.

"Not tonight, but if you'd like we'd love it if you stopped by after. Even better, I could drive you?"She offered.

"Thank you, but I'm alright. I'll come over another time though,"I promised.

"Are you sure? It's not a problem,"She reassured me. Knowing that she meant her words I still had to decline.

"Okay dear. Be safe, and if something happens you know where we are."

"I know. Goodnight Chuck. Be good."

"I will,"He responded, a hint of disappointment in his tone. After repeating that I would stay for dinner another day, I got back to my original goal.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

When I approached her house the streetlights were already on. Despite this place being safe I was quick to get to her door. Ignoring the chills running down my spine I rang the bell. I just enjoy being able to do that since we don't have one.

The sound of a dog barking and muffled talking sounded through the thick wood before someone finally opened it. Instead of it being Sonya or even her parents it was her brother. He eyed me up and down before looking at me in a curious way. I suppose that's valid since I generally don't interact with many people.

"Sonya left her book,"I explained, pulling it out of my bag. Just as I handed it to him she appeared from behind him with a big, white dog trailing behind her.

"Y/N?"She asked.

"Yeah. I gave Newt your stuff. You left it at the shop,"I repeated.

"It's pretty late. Did someone drive you?"She asked, seeming more concerned about me than relieved about her returned item.

"I biked. Anyways, I'll get out of here now."

"It's dark out. Why don't you stay?"She offered, holding her dog back from bolting out the door. Why is everyone trying to do things for me today?

"No. It's honestly fine."

"So you're going to go all the way to your home but yourself? It takes me twenty minutes just to get out of my neighborhood. Being all alone at night is not a good idea,"She pointed out. I just shrugged as I kept my hands in my pockets.

"At least, call your parents and wait for them."

"I don't have a phone,"I admitted.

"Then, use ours,"She suggested. Tired of the way she was so persistent on helping me out I finally accepted as Newt awkwardly gestured for me to come in.

"Do you know the number?"She asked.

"Yeah. Where's your landline?"

"Our what?"Newt asked, speaking his very first words to me.

"Your landline. You know? The home phone connected to the wall?"

"We don't have one, but you can use my cellphone,"She said, unlocking it and handing it to me. After mumbling a thanks I typed in our number.

It rang once then twice before a beep was heard. Despite that usually mean somebody answered I still waited to see if it really was that.

When not even the hint of breathing was in the other end I knew it was just malfunctioning. I hung up before handing it to her.

"No luck so I guess I'll just bike home,"I shrugged.

"Just stay the night. We have the room,"She assured me. That wasn't the problem though. Accepting help isn't something I know how to do.

"I don't have any extra clothes,"I explained. While that didn't really matter I was looking for an excuse.

"You can burrow mine."

"I don't have a toothbrush."

"We have an extra."

"I don't have-"

"Anything you're worried about we have. Just stay until morning,"She repeated.

"But your parents-"

"Aren't home and wouldn't mind. Besides, you really want to go out there alone on a Friday night?"She pointed out.

"I guess not,"I mumbled.

"So?"She asked.

"So I'm staying the night,"I gave in.

All I wanted to do was return a book. Now I think I really should have waited until Monday.

Sonya's P.O.V

I showed Y/N to the bathroom so she could shower before going to find some clean night clothes for her. While digging through my drawers Newt quietly entered my room and expectantly looked at me.

"Why do you know Y/N?"He asked.

"We hang out at the same spot,"I vaguely explained, pulling out a pair of black sweatpants and a plain top.

"Is that why you're gone all those days?"

"Maybe. Does it matter?"

"If it's her then yeah,"He whispered.

"There's nothing wrong with her,"I defended.

"Really? Come on Sonya. We've all heard the stories. Everyone knows her name. She skips school to do who knows what-"

"Which isn't anyone's business. They're just rumors, and even if they're true we don't know the full story,"I pointed out.

"What good reason is there for that?"

"I don't know, and I'm not going to ask. Whatever she does she has her reasons, but she's not a bad person Newt. Don't judge her when you've barely heard her voice,"I sighed.

Just as he was about to reply the water turned off. Quickly shooing him out of my room I knocked on my bathroom door. She held her hand out through a small crack, and I handed her the clothes.

Taking a seat on my bed I pulled out the book she had returned while I waited for her. Coming all this way to return it was an odd decision to say the least. Especially, if she had to get here in foot. Still, it's a sweet gesture.

"I'm dressed,"She said, walking out of the bathroom and twisting her damp hair into a loose ponytail. She shivered in the tank top subtly rubbing her hands together.

"Hold on one second,"I instructed, going to my closet. Glancing around, I looked for something warm but not too tight or completely unfit for bed. After a moment I found a plain, purple sweater. Running my hands over the fabric, I was relieved when it was a soft texture.

I headed back out of my room and handed it to her. Without a word she slipped it over her head. Thankfully, it fit like a charm.

"Thank you,"She mumbled, her voice seeming naturally soft. Hearing her speak was different but in a good way. It is a bit unusual that she seems less shy when she's not speaking, but it doesn't matter. Honestly, I'm just glad that she's staying the night.

"We should still have leftovers. Are you hungry?"I asked.

"No,"She answered quickly. Before I could respond her stomach growled, showing the exact opposite.

"Okay. A little bit,"She admitted.

"You should have told me. Come on Y/N. Let's get you something to eat."

"Yeah. Okay,"She agreed, following me down the stairs.

All Parts

This is seriously the girl people say is trouble? Yeah right, and even if she is there's always a reason people are the way they are. All I care about is that she has a kind soul, and she definitely does.

Next Chapter

[mimi-saurio]

WIP ST Childhood AU chapter 2:

Is it morning for you too? Well, good morning ✨ sadly I won’t be able to post chapter 2 today 💔 I really thought I could, but when you live with your parents sometimes things get chaotic so, really want to say that it will be finished by Sunday but I’m still sketching the last page so, between ink, textures and text, I don’t know 😬

What I want you to know is that I won’t drop this project, this is just a moment of weakness due to a change in my daily routine 🫠

I’m sorry to keep you waiting to the people that already got engaged with my little comic, and thank you for enjoying my art 💗✨

[universalfanfic]

@inkoutsidethelines Here is Mary and Owen's convo about his job as a superhero. I feel like I could've filled out the discussion more... but I want to post it now so.

(Mary belongs to Ink)

Mary snapped back into the present when she realized how quiet it was. She’d been folding some laundry in a daze, but with a three year old and two under two, quiet was never a good sign. 

She dropped the towel back in the basket and turned to where the boys had been. Theodore and Bradley had already learned how to help each other out of their playpen, and she was seriously considering adding a screen on top to lock them in. 

“Mikey!” 

“Yeah, mommy!” 

Mary marched down the hall and found all three boys huddled around a few scraps of paper, a leather bound journal, and a scattering of crayons. She rushed forward as Bradley stopped drawing on the paper and looked over at the wall speculatively.

Mary snatched Bradley up and held him on one hip as she put her hand on the other. Bradley laughed at the quick movement and threw his crayon.

“What do you think you’re doing?” 

Mikey looked down at his crayon and back up at her. 

“Coloring.” He held up the paper he scribbled on to show her. “See! I’m showing T-eeo and B-ladley how to draw.” 

Mary bit her tongue and fought to keep her stern expression. 

“You need to ask first,” she said. “You know Theodore and Bradley aren’t supposed to be out by themselves.” 

“Don’t worry, I’m watching them!” 

“Mommy or daddy needs to be with them,” she clarified. 

With a sigh, she knelt down to start cleaning up the papers. The journal looked like one of Owen’s sketchbooks and she groaned that they’d clearly torn out a few pages. Mikey pointed as she took the paper he’d colored on. 

“I made it better,” he said. “I didn’t like that one; it was too scary.” 

Mary frowned at that. Owen didn’t draw scary things. Landscapes, portraits, some still life if he was trying to figure out lighting, but nothing a child should find scary. 

She looked past the rainbow scribbles to the original sketch. It was done in a heavy, dark ink. Not Owen’s usual style. 

The silhouette of a man seemed to be falling down a hole, many grasping hands reached up towards him from the bottom. 

It hit her that Mikey had somehow pulled out one of Owen’s private art journals. The ones he didn’t even share with her, though she didn’t know how Mikey found it. Owen was usually careful with where he placed those ones. 

Mary stared at the picture another moment then folded it up and shoved it in her pocket. 

“You made it very colorful, but we don’t color in daddy’s books, remember? Now let’s clean this up before he gets home.” 

Mary kept the picture in her pocket after Owen got home from work, all through dinner, until after they put the kids to bed. They settled on the couch and Mary finally brought it up. 

“So,” she said, “the kids got into one of your sketchbooks today.” 

Owen let out a half-amused groan as he threw his arm over her shoulder on the back of the couch. 

“How much damage did they do?” 

Mary licked her lips. “I don’t know. I didn’t look through the rest.”

Owen cracked one eye open to give her a questioning look and Mary reached into her pocket. He accepted the folded paper and his demeanor shifted as he opened it up and saw what was inside. 

“I didn’t think you’d appreciate me looking through that one.” 

“Right.” Owen’s jaw ticked and he looked away, shoving the paper into his own pocket. “Thank you.” 

Mary pressed her lips together and tamped down on her impulsive reaction to his dismissal. 

“Is that it?” 

“I’ll make sure I put it where they can’t reach it from now on.” 

Her frustration spiked and she leaned away from him. 

“So am I just supposed to pretend I didn’t see it? Is that what you want me to do? Is that whole sketchbook filled with drawings like that?” 

Owen’s eyes sharpened and he pulled his arm back. 

“We’re both allowed to have our privacy, Mary.” 

“That’s not what that was, and you know it,” she snapped. “That wasn’t just some frustration you were working out on your own. That- that looked like despair.” 

Owen blinked rapidly and leaned forward to rub at his forehead.

“It’s nothing. You don’t need to worry about it.” 

Mary pressed her lips together again and her tone shifted to something softer.

“That isn’t fair.” Owen didn’t move. “Whenever I was going through- when I was struggling with my Daredevil stuff, you always said you wanted me to open up to you. You wanted to be there for me. And when it was beyond your scope you encouraged me to find someone who would know how to help.” 

Owen worked his jaw and ran his hand through his hair in growing agitation.  He wouldn’t look directly at her. 

“This isn’t the same.” He insisted. 

“Something is clearly bothering you, Owen.” 

“It’s not the same. You- you went through traumatic events. You held yourself together through things no human should have to go through.” 

“It’s not a competition.” 

“I have nothing to compete with!” He shot back. “I have loving parents, a family, a good support network, and powers most people wish for. So if I have a bad day, I’m not going to complain about it, okay?” 

Mary sat back and rolled her tongue in her mouth. He was deflecting too hard for it to be something as fleeting as a bad day. She ought to know, she’d done it enough to her family, to him, before working through her trauma. He was just as stubborn as she was, whether he wanted to admit it or not. 

She let the silence sit long enough for him to calm down, for his words to settle. 

“Do you know what one of the first things Brenda taught me was?” She asked. 

Owen closed his eyes momentarily and let out a tense breath. He finally made himself look at her. 

“No.” 

“She taught me when I was upset, but kept it to myself, I’d inevitably end up creating distance between us. You’d feel that distance but wouldn’t know what was causing it. You might assume it was your fault, that you were failing as a husband. She taught me that ultimately it was unkind of me to hide what was bothering me, and unkind not to tell you what I needed.” 

He didn’t move as he worked through her words. Despite his tense posture she could see his eyes softening. Mary fought to keep her voice steady. 

“Please be kind enough to tell me what you need.” 

It was her plea that broke through. Owen dropped his head in his hands to hide his face, and while he didn’t audibly cry, his breathing was elevated. Mary moved up against his side and wrapped her arm around his back. 

“Owen.”

“I never wanted to be part of the Avengers program.” His voice was so quiet it sounded fragile. “Maddie tried to get enrolled early, but I- I only followed after her because I knew she’d get herself killed if I wasn’t there. And we’re Rogers’, right? It’s what we’re supposed to do.”

Mary’s heart fractured a little and she ran her hand up and down his spine. 

“Owen, you aren’t obligated to follow in your parent’s footsteps.” 

He let out a short, bitter laugh. 

“Aren’t I? I have these powers, I can help people. What does it say about me that I don’t want to.” He winced at his own words and corrected himself. “No, that’s not- I don’t like hurting people. Even if they deserve it. Every day, every moment, I have to be conscientious of what I do, how much force I use. I go out every night knowing that if I’m not careful I could kill someone that doesn’t have to die. Even then, I have to hurt people, and I hate it.” 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?” 

Owen looked away again, his eyes going red, his brows furrowed as if he were angry.

“Because people go to work hating their jobs everyday. I’m not special for that. I have a responsibility to you and our kids, and to the commitments I knowingly made. I can’t just stop for something as trivial as me not liking it.” 

“Yes,” Mary said, “you can. Do you hear yourself? We are not our powers, we’re people. You’re a person. You just happen to be able to do something most can’t. I know it’s so hard to separate ourselves from that, but Owen, you can’t keep doing this. You wouldn't let me, and I love you enough not to let you either.”

She tugged on his arm and he let her pull him closer. They folded into each other on the couch and let the conversation breathe as Mary ran her fingers through Owen’s curls. 

“I can’t,” Owen finally said. “Maddie-”

“Maddie is a grown woman who can make her own decisions. She knows her own limitations and the risks she takes.”

The silence settled again and Mary waited. 

“I’m supposed to lead this family,” Owen confessed. “How can I expect you all to trust me when something this- this small gets under my skin?” 

That felt much closer to the truth than his excuse about Maddie. 

“You are not less of a man because you don’t like hitting people and it upsets you.” She cupped his jaw and prompted him to look at her, the short hairs of his beard tickling her palm. He obliged, though he didn’t otherwise move; his arms stayed wrapped around her waist. 

“I love you because you are gentle, because you choose to be. Because you are kind and generous and you love with all that you are. What will hurt our family more is if we spend years watching you suffer when you don’t need to. You have a choice, Owen.” 

He pulled her closer and pressed his forehead against her shoulder. Mary kissed the top of his head and he let out a sound between a cry and a laugh. She felt his lips move as he murmured against her skin. 

“I love you. So much.” 

“I love you too. How about we relax the rest of the evening, and tomorrow we can work on your resignation?”

Owen pulled back far enough to kiss her on the lips. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I think that might be a good idea.”

[lucentaire]

It was too late to overthink or second guess it. The thick envelope was already on its way to her and had likely found her by now. Protected within a rigid, cardboard sleeve inside the envelope, the drawing would arrive in pristine condition. It was not a page from the sketchbook she had given him (but the paper was rather similar), no, this was from one of his older books, one that had somehow survived. But she didn’t need to know that, didn’t need to even suspect that the drawing had been done a while ago now (he hoped there was nothing that would give it away at least, he wasn’t sure how it might come across if she realised she’d been on his mind back then). It was a perfect depiction of the moment, an inked sketch with subtle colours shading it, bringing to life how she had looked to him that first evening they had really talked. With her hands curled delicately around her teacup, and the coat he’d given her draped around her shoulders, the little lights that she had produced around them gave the night a certain magic. Her expression was soft, amused at something they had talked about. Beautiful.

A small slip of paper accompanied the art, simply reading, 'Happy Holidays, Ever.'

she had started to feel suspicious when she had first come out of her room after her teammates had graciously allowed her to sleep in. in fact, for reasons, the absence of any sound beyond the whine of their letterbox in the early morning had been the first red flag. well, maybe not red. fitting the spirit of the season, the flag had been pastel pink. but carena did not want to be the spoilsport. she would not accuse anyone of anything without proof.

the second---seasonally appropriate---pink flag had been the fact that someone had neatly arranged the mail they had received. while in theory, they had little baskets, those saw hardly ever any use. instead, any correspondence was dropped off at the correct spots on the dining table. what she was looking at (the second pink flag) was the neatly arranged stack of mail on her spot.

the third thing that made her feel suspicious was the fact that her dearly beloved teammates were all in the kitchen, ostensibly going about their daily business. while this usually would not be suspicious, the fact that she felt three pair of eyes on her was suspicious. something was up. it had something to do with the mail. and they knew what it was. and they were watching her to catch her reaction.

oh boy.

two thoughts, both equally out there, raced through her head within the seconds it took her to get from the door to the table. the table she never dreaded quite as much as she was dreading it right now, solely because her favourite people were acting weird. the first thought was can laxus smell who sends mail? and the second, born from the first, was please tell me that i did not get a letter from scarlet. although---that would explain why laxus had looked as if he wanted to giggle. laxus, as a general rule, did not do something as unfitting as giggling, but she could envision that he would make an exception if after all the times she had made fun about this, she would be the one to get love day mail from erza.

but---carena was not someone who would let her teammates have all the fun. there was a letter that stood out from the rest and therefore, she did not reach for it, no matter how curious she was about this. instead, she flipped through the other mail first. reading the first letter, she hummed a bit to herself. just another bill, but why would she not take the time to doublecheck it to make sure that everything was above board there? there had been a time when they had been charged twice for something. she had to make sure everything was correct.

and she could hear how with each letter she opened that was not the suspicious one, her teammates grew more impatient. yup, they were far too interested in her correspondence today. she had been right to think that there had been pink flags everywhere today.

but then, the last advertisement was opened and read, and she had to confront the suspicious letter. a part of her wondered if she should just pocket it and read it up in her room, but that would only make her look more suspicious, right? and it was not like she had anything to hide.

she still hummed to herself as she used a butter knife to open the Suspicious Letter. upon realising what it was she was looking at, she paused her humming, desperately wishing she had escaped the house before opening it. resisting the urge to look over her shoulder to where certain people were almost bouncing off the wall with their badly concealed excitement, she breathed out, struggling to keep the sound . . . even. struggling to seem unaffected. because she was not! she was not unaffected! but laxus was annoying in moments like this. enhanced hearing meant that he definitely heard the quickened heartbeat that accompanied her blush. inwardly, she almost screeched. oh gray. what have you done? it was not that she was not flattered. she was flattered. she was so very flattered. but no amount of flattery could make her overlook the fact that she was in for a lot of teasing about this all.

her team was usually good with boundaries.

she just did not think she could rely on usually this time around.

especially not with the leading questions freed had asked since not long after the war. laxus had senses that were unfairly keen. freed was just too perceptive for his own good. she simply hoped those two had not yet gotten around to pooling their knowledge. if they had, she was done for.

returning the drawing to the envelope and slipping the envelope into her pocket, she willed her blush away. she would find a frame for the drawing later and properly examine it. right now, she would have to make sure that her teammates did not get the show they were clearly anticipating.

turning around to face them, she cleared her throat. ''---is there any orange juice left? '' she asked innocently. '' or do i have to trouble you, laxus, to make some more? ''

[makos-hotbox]

SMALL FONT VER.

.! 𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔢𝔰𝔶 !.

— “ I know I'm feeling so much more, than ever before. “

— “ And so I'm giving more to you, than I thought I could do! “

The black pen smudged on the paper slightly as you finished writing your signature. A small lovely note written for your boyfriend who was being deployed again. You had drawn and sketched out a bunch of pictures for König while he was home.

Whenever you two would be sitting with each other in silence, you would usually whip out your notebook and start drawing the beautiful large man. Making sure to always include the smallest of details because that’s what you loved about König.

Stacking up the various sheets of paper with the note to König on top, you stapled them together and hid them in his bag for him to find later.

Later that day, the two of you kissed each other goodbye as König made his way to work. And you internally hoped he would be able to come back again.

!!!

A frustrated König stomped his way into his room, hands ruffling through his bag in hopes to find literally anything that would help calm him down. He had done some training today to make sure he wasn’t rusty after being home longer than usual, and none of it had gone well. He missed multiple easy snipes in the shooting range and even pulled a few muscles during combat stuff. He was pissed.

Growing even more frustrated that he couldn’t find what he wanted from his back, he lifted the whole thing and turned it upside down, emptying the bag onto the floor. König’s eyes immediately landed on a stapled stack of papers, noticing the familiar signature on the bottom of the top page.

Grabbing the papers, he quickly began to settle down. Reading the note you had written for him. Boasting about your love for the large man and how much he meant to you. That you wished he would come safe.

That was a great thing to hear for König. You wanted him to come home. Sweet you, the love of his life, you. König’s demeanor changed completely now, he was relaxed and gushing silently over your fantastic words. You had him wrapped around your finger and he didn’t care one bit.

König began to turn through the pages. There were some messy pencil sketches of König sitting in different positions. Different facial expressions and even full artwork of him. It made him feel kind of confident in himself. You drew this, you drew him. He didn’t think he could fall in love anymore than he already has.

Shuffling to the last of the pages, a fully inked and colored version of König took up the whole paper. It was badass, he was in his gear with his mask and everything, even his gun. He fucking loved it and wanted to frame it on the wall when he got home. And on the final page was another full art of König, but this time with you. The reference was from a picture you had taken for your anniversary, but it looked the exact same. The two of you sitting next to each other as you placed a surprise kiss on König’s cheek. Your friend had taken the picture while they were stalking your dinner date and called it the cutest thing ever. Especially since König looked absolutely ecstatic.

König couldn’t help but smile at the picture in his hand, feeling a slight tease of emotion coming in. But how could he not? He missed you. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to him. He just wants to go home. To tell you how much he loves the art you always make for him, and how much he loves you as well. Call him cheesy but as long as you always draw these pictures for König, he will be the cheesiest man alive.

REQUESTS :: OPEN

[artleaguemdcnorth]

Drawing Class First Day of Class- 1/23/2022

Drawing class,

Happy New Year and welcome to the start of the Spring semester.

We are begining a return to in person learning, this class will be meeting in room 5204 , second floor of building 5.

I am going to give students the first week of class to buy all class materials. You will be using class time between Monday after we meet,  and Weds to complete the purchase of all class materials. 

On Wednesday, students will also engage in an asynchronous assignment that involves watching some videos and posting a reflection post to your Tumblr portfolio.

A class syllabus was emailed to you on Friday along with a welcome letter.

Make sure you begin to review it before our in person meet tomorrow at 9:40am..

On the first week of school,  students will be given class time to complete several tasks required to have a sucessful semester.

During the in person meet tomorrow, we will review the class syllabus and class requirements together as a group.

Please check your email for these documents that have already been sent to you, bring your own copy to the class.

Once I dismiss the class, students will be required to do several things on the first day .

These tasks are as follows:

1) Create a personal Tumblr and Twitter account for class. 

Make sure you use a last name and first name initial, the class you are taking (art1300C),  your year in school , your educational pathway. 

You will then include a  quote from your favorite artist in the bio.  

See below an example from a previous student:

2) Look up my twitter handle @Prof_AFresquet , follow it then send me a **tweet with your tumblr and twitter info. 

**You will respond to a tweet I will send at the start of class for today ( 1/23/23) with a brief introduction and include the following:

a) Year in school (freshman, sophomore )

b) Art or  Art education pathway

c) A quote by your favorite artist with their name.with the following information

3) Students will go to the school library to check out a book as stated in the welcome letter. You will post a copy of your book with a favorite quote of your artist.

4) HW- Working in any material available to you, draw three boxes in the following manner in three different papers :

a) Front rectagular box

b) ¾ view of square box

c) All three boxes in the same page as you see below.

Place boxes in a similar format as seen below:

On Wednesday during class time, students will be given the opportunity to go and buy the following  class materials:  

*sketchbook bound 8 x 11 or slightly bigger _X__

*Soft charcoal sticks (also known as willow)  _X__

*Charcoal pencil set ( the set usually comes with the eraser below)  __X_

*Kneaded eraser. _X__ 

*Newsprint pad 18 x 24 _X__

*Drawing or Foam board to hold 18 x 24 drawing pad.__X_

*Black Higgins or China Ink. __

*Brushes for ink ___

*Sketching Knibs to work with ink. ___

* Bristol paper 18 x24 ( 100lbs ) ___

You can find most of these items at :

Michael’s

Blick’s Art

Artists Warehouse

Jerry’s Arterama

Walmart 

Target. ****  

See below examples of materials you will be purchasing.

Students will use the class time on Weds to complete the purchase of all class materials. 

Homework On Weds:

 Watch the videos above this post (all three videos.) Students will then write a reflection post regarding what they learned form the videos. 

a) What inspired you most about these artist.

b) How you can put what you have learned about their life  to work for you as a student artist. 

Post all assignments from Monday and Weds on your class portfolio by 5PM Friday . 

Make sure all the materials are in hand for in person class on Monday 1/30 /23 at 9:40am.

[drawloverlala]

June status update

Hello! Ah we already are on June! hey, Happy pride month everyone!! 😊✨

And well Just wanted to write my usual status update and add a bit more of what’s to come for my commissions! as well as some update about the status of Brotherhood twist comic along the way ^_^

My commissions are still currently closed, I still don’t have a new opening date either, as I’m still working on the batch I got from April but I’m almost done with it! there’s only 2 commissions left to finish, one without background and one with background. And I’ll be possibly finishing the one without background this upcoming week.

after I’m done with these I’ll be taking a break but I’m thinking on opening commissions again after that, and with that said, I’ll be increasing my prices!  

The new prices are:

full character render= (half body) 80 USD / (full body)100 USD

A background = (simple)5 USD / (partial)80 USD / (fully rendered)250 USD

And well with this I’m wondering if the amount of requests will be less next time, I’ve talked before that I’ve been trying to regulate that a bit and this was an option to do that as well.

I also I feel like needed to regulate it again anyways, I mean, I was asked to draw a half body commission a while ago, and it made me realize that I can’t have the same price of a full body commission for that, so I thought I had to do some adjustment to my prices in general 😅, it has been a while since I last changed them after all.

And well besides of raising my prices in general, I also want to announce new listings for the future! Right now these are closed as well, but I’ll make sure to announce when I’ll be opening them!

🌸 Comic pages commissions!

I’ve already been working for a while doing these with an independent creator, but also I want to try taking these more regularly to create more experience in this field and to add newer content to my portfolio that I can show 😆

the process would be the same as with the illustration commissions, just that along with reference I’ll also require a sort of script, or at least a description of each panel. here’s the commission info page for this listing as well as examples:

Comic pages commission info page.

But here are the current prices as well! may or not change later, but here they are as of today:

Comic page (pencils): 40 USD

Comic page (pencils and inks): 90 USD

Comic page (pencils, inks and colors):130 USD

🌸 Chibis and Sketch pages!

I want to take these on Ko-fi, Their prices will be 20 USD and 40 USD respectively, I haven’t yet published these listings on my Ko-fi page, but here’s some examples of what I have in mind with these:

so... yeah, that’s about it for commission talk so far! then again, the comic commission prices may change, the new listings are still not open but I wanted to announce them, And currently still working on the batch I got from April but I’m almost done with it, and  after I’m done with that, I’ll take a break dunno how long but not too long and after that I’ll be announcing when I open commissions again with the new prices!

Here I updated my carrd with the current commission prices as well!

https://drawloverlala.carrd.co/#comissioninfo

If you want to see all my prices in detail I made this too.

The * in this, is that I need to explain XD,  I’m currently working on projects  where I take these kind of commissions, so they are not technically closed, but I’m not currently accepting them outside of these projects, so they aren’t really open either. hope that’s not too confusing XD

🌸 Now about Brotherhood’s Twist fan comic!

ah so far, I FINISHED SKETCHING THE WHOLE COMIC! i mean like all pages are currently sketched! there’s still no dialogue set for some of them, I’ve been adding some drafts of dialogue, I also started inking some of the new pages! I can see now an end to this comic! so yeah, here’s the state of the comic:

New unpublished pages done: 8 (pages 64 to 69)

New sketched pages:16 ( pages 70 to 86)

New inked pages: 5 to 6 ( pages 70 to 74 and half of page 75)

Here’s a peek of some pages out of order!

And that’s all for now! Thank you very much for reading and well I hope you have great week!

[maarchalk]

Inktober Tips

What is Inktober (skip this if you already know) I've never really been on a social media site where I get to write down my actual thoughts about inktober. I've been doing Inktober properly for a few years now and I made a few small attempts before that. Tips that I'm about to share here might be relevant for other art challenges as well. Inktober is of course a yearly art challenge where thousands of artist across the globe make an ink drawing for every day of inktober. But in my book any physical media is ok. The original challenge also had a stipulation about not sketching anything, this is also alright in my book. Anyone who tells you you're not doing it properly if you're not using exclusively ink without a sketch is a [slur of choice]. All of these artist follow the same prompt list, though in the last few years some alternate prompt lists have showed up. These prompts have showed up because of some scandall that I don't really remember. Me and some fellow artists that were also doing it decided back then to keep following the "official" prompt list, but if you want to do another one that's all good.

The only thing you should remember about all of this is that Inktober is all about getting into the habit of drawing daily and doing a decent job. Everyone is gonna be posting stuff of different quality and that's ok because we're all developing at a different rate.

Getting started with Inktober So how do you actually go about starting with Inktober? The first thing you should do is set an incredibly low bar for yourself. Inktober is long and if you're not with friends it's incredibly difficult to get motivated. Therefore you should be choosing your own pace, and to begin this pace should be incredibly low. For your very first inktober I recommend to get a small sketchbook or loose collection of pages of any size and mark out 31 days on the pages. In the beginning of the sketchbook you should write all of the prompts that month, that way you never have to look them up on your phone where you might get distracted. You can include the prompt on the page of the day if you want. That way you'll always know. My very first Inktober that I followed for almost the entire month was in 2018 and consisted of just two A4's with only 27 of the 31 prompts completed. And as you will see in the image below, several irrelevant doodles cluttered the pages as well. I started this Inktober run on the 5th so don't worry if you think you've missed the start date, just get a sketchbook and get going! Even today, a week from the end is a valid starting date if you only wanna do it for a week.

Following the prompt If you're doing Inktober remember this one thing, we're not chatgpt or some other image generator, we're artists! This means that unlike a computer we can actually creatively handle a prompt. If you're not sure what to draw at first glance, try approaching it from a different angle.

Experiment with the word, adding a B to the front of the prompt Ridge may give you the idea to put a Bridge on a Ridge, or something like that.

If you're a multilingual person or a non-english-native, try interpreting the prompt in your mother-tongue or any other language. If you're travelling or something it can also be fun to relate the prompt to your surroundings. Also on two seperate inktobers I related my inktober to the fact that I had a wisdom tooth removed that very day.

Also if you think you've got a physical item around you that you can draw to follow the prompt, go for it! These are especially fun to do without the sketch, but you can still include the sketch if you want.

Also remember to keep things fresh, if you're a little sick of using ink try changing it up. Just use a ballpoint pen or any other physical media.

Low effort Inktobers

Some days you're gonna be tired or not really feel like doing the prompt. It might have been a long day, it might be 5 minutes before midnight, hell it can even be two in the morning or the next day! The most important thing to do on these days is to put literally anything on the page! I call these the Low-Effort-Inktobers. They can either be the worst thing you've ever made or you can end up starting to enjoy it an make a friggin masterpiece! As I've mentioned, Inktober is all about keeping up the work, no matter what. And by anything I literally mean anything! Here are some Low-Effort-Inktobers!

Conclusion

Anyway Inktober is a fun art challenge that creates good habits! If you're still in doubt of getting started let me motivate you by showing some of mine. I'll show three from every year I've done, the very best, the very worst and an Inktober that is just average. I won't mention which is which cause I'm sure people would disagree with me. I hope it's gonna show a nice progression over the years! Remember if you're gonna start, only look at the first two or three, set the bar low! And feel free to show me your Inktobers! I wanna see more people show this kind of progression cause I find that interesting! 2019

2020

2021

2022 This is the year where I switched to giving every day it's own A4, the jump in quality is incredible.

2023

2024 Obviously Inktober is still running this year but here are some of mine.

[bardicfrustration]

Your Ink Is Mine

Summary: Eddie asks you to design his next tattoo.

Word Count: ~2k (1.9 but lemme have it yeah?)

He’s watching you again.

You can tell because the pencil scratches of him writing campaign notes have stopped longer than it usually takes him to think of his next step. 

You’re both in your room, just working on your own thing in the soft ambiance of whatever vinyl Eddie deemed worthy. 

You had set up some of your books and knick knacks as an impromptu still life. He said he wanted to flesh out the next few battles the club would be fighting. 

But at some point a while ago he stopped writing and you can feel his gaze burning into the back of your neck.

It’s fine. It’s not awkward at all for your best friend who you also have a secret crush on to watch you draw. The pressure is not at all suddenly overwhelming and you don’t smudge your line the wrong way and curse just a little too loud. 

Except you do, and Eddie asks so sweetly, “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing.” You sigh. “Drawing with ink is just a pain.” You try to blot out the ink with a paper towel you have for this reason, but it’s too late. It’s already ruined. You sigh and put your pen down.

You turn in your chair to look back at him. He’s sitting on the floor with his back against the end of your bed, papers and books spread around him in a messy semi circle. You admire how hard he works on the campaign. Just so that the club has fun.

“I wanted to ask you something, actually.” He says, picking at the rug under him.

He’s acting weirdly nervous. You almost get your hopes up. Maybe today will be the day he bursts out with his sudden declaration of love for you, so you don’t have to. You nod, cautiously pushing down the butterflies trying to flutter in your chest. 

“I, uh. Would you-” He clears his throat. “Could I commission you?” 

You’re taken slightly aback. “For what?” 

“A tattoo?”

A tattoo.

You’ve never drawn a tattoo. It wouldn’t be much different than the ink drawings you were just working on. Just a drawing in ink.

Just something permanent. On his body. Forever. 

You want to melt and laugh and cry. 

You can’t really look him in those dark chocolate eyes, so you stare at his hands. “Uh. Of what?” 

“Huh?” Eddie looks up.

“Like, what am I drawing?”

He holds up a finger while flipping through the composition notebook he keeps all his important notes in (one time you called it his journal and he got all defensive) before landing on a page. You recognize the page. 

“Something like this, if you can?” He stands up and holds out the pages to you, even though you remember the doodles like you drew them yesterday. 

Well, no. Not like that. You can’t remember what you drew yesterday unless you go back into your sketchbook. But you can remember these doodles like they were etched behind your eyelids. 

The two of you were sitting and passing notes in his journal (sorry, notebook) while whichever teacher you had was droning on. Eventually the notes turned into doodles you made of each other. Yours was a little cartoon of Eddie with bat wings and razor teeth. His was of you with an angel’s halo and a feathered wings. 

Of course, right now, Eddie wasn’t pointing to your old bat drawing. He was pointing to his drawing. Of you.

“Me?” You had to clarify that your eyes were seeing right.

“Yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck and flicks his eyes around the room. Looking for something, maybe his marbles, you don’t know. “I just- I really liked yours. I think it’s cute. I wanted to do you justice before I make it permanent, you know?” 

You. He wanted to do you justice. Sometimes this guy drove you crazy. 

And sometimes you think he’s just too good to be true. 

You take a deep breath and nod as you reach out for the notebook. 

“You’ll do it?” He asks as if you aren’t already opening your sketchbook to sketch out ideas. 

“Yeah. Of course. Give me a few days?”

He nods eagerly. You copy down as much detail from the notebook drawing as you can before giving it back to him. The sun was setting and the room was bathed in blue shadows and orange highlights.

Both of you take a much needed break to eat dinner. You order a pizza and eat it off the counter while trying to out burp each other with sips of soda. No matter how much Eddie could rattle your brain with his pretty hands and prettier eyes, he was your best friend first.

When you show up to his trailer a few days later with his finished commission you feel like your soul is going to slither out of your skin.

He’s not going to like it.

You know that if he doesn’t like it he will tell you. He won’t lie. He certainly won’t spend the money to get a bad tattoo. He’s told you horror stories about some of the worst he’s seen.

He’s going to laugh at you and tell you it was all a joke and you fell for-

He opens the door looking like he just woke up, still in a pair of sleep pants and a cropped band shirt. He looks so comfy and enticing. Almost like your bed after a long day you just want to snuggle into him and never let go. 

He lets out a huge yawn and rubs at his eyes, “You’re here early for movie night.”

You open your mouth but nothing can come out. You hand him the paper, slightly bent on the edge where you put it in your sketchbook, but otherwise pristine. 

He takes it gingerly as if he’s reading from God’s own bible. 

“Do…do you like it?”

He looks up with wide eyes, shocked you could even ask, “I love it. It’s perfect.” 

He insists on bringing you along to get the tattoo.

“You could get one too.” He nudges you while you wander around the parlor and he’s sitting in the chair. 

“No, I'm a huge baby about needles.” You smile awkwardly.

“What? You were so brave in Bio when we had to dissect that frog!” 

“That was a dead frog, Eddie. Not a needle punching into my living skin.” You gesture the motion of the needle.

“See, that just makes it even more metal, sweetheart.” He’s smiling like an idiot and you wish you were worthy of it.

The tattoo is small, only a few inches tall on the side of his arm. You wince when he winces at the pain, but he tells you, “It’s just like a cat scratch,” as you hop back in his van and head home. 

You don’t tell him when you snatch the number for the tattoo parlor.

A week later and his tat mostly healed. The lines are crisp and he’s been habitually rubbing lotion and sunscreen on it. You know from experience he took care of his tattoos but it still felt… intimate knowing that was your art on his skin.

He shows it off to his club and proudly tells them how you designed it just for him. You tell him to knock it off while blushing.

He grins and wears short sleeves as often as he can. He says, “It’s a crime for the world to be forbidden a peek at real art.” You push him off the bed for that one.

Another week goes by. You have been giving extremely lame excuses for the week as to why you keep wearing sweaters at his trailer even though it’s been boiling hot.

When he offers per usual to use his trailer to watch a shitty movie and make popcorn on the weekend, you ask if you can watch it at your house instead. He agrees easily. You lead him up to your room under the guise of grabbing blankets and pillows for the couch.

“Hey, I got a surprise.” You tell him as soon as he walks through your bedroom door.

His eyes light up. “Is it a puppy? Is it dice? Is it a first edition copy of The Two Towers? Is it-” He’s inching closer to you with glee.

You interrupt him with a hush while you shed your jacket. He watches patiently. 

Instead of facing him head on, you line up yourself up next to him so your arm is touching his where his new tattoo rests. So that your matching tattoos are standing next to each other, just like the two of you are. 

He looks down confused until he sees your previously unmarked skin, now inked just like his. 

He looks up at you with glassy eyes. “You-?”

“I went back about a week ago. It was just a cat scratch, like you said.” You look down, embarrassed to keep looking him in the eye. He’s looking at you like you just told him what Christmas was for the first time.

You watch his feet step in front of yours. He uses a gentle touch to your chin to pick your head up. He looks so serious you’re almost afraid.

“You are.... the

best

person. I have ever known.” He looks down at your lips, leaning down but stopping a hair’s breadth away, giving you the choice. 

You take it.

You push your lips against his and hope all the love you’ve been holding inside gushes in. 

He breathes in while leaning into the kiss and letting his hand move to softly cup your jaw. His lips are plush and slightly chapped and perfect. He tilts his head just enough to kiss you deeper and your head wants to be anxious about if you’re kissing him well but it just feels too good to care. Your brain is turning into a puddle as his palm moves to hold the side of your face and his fingers graze your hairline.

Your hands raise cautiously but he quickly places one with his free hand onto his side. You’re pulling him impossibly closer by his vest while reaching up to his neck to dig your fingers in his hair.

He groans and you pull and he groans harder.

It should be impossible how soft his hair is when you know he uses a 3 in 1 shampoo. You still relish in his hair fitting between your fingers as you grasp and pull. He moans into your mouth and you can feel the vibrations in your teeth.

He pulls you in by the neck and you would let him carry your head away into the sunset to do whatever he pleased if you got to stay in this headspace forever.

Unfortunately you have to pull away to breathe. You’re panting against his lips and his eyes find yours glossy and searching. He smiles that breathtaking smile and you can’t help but smile back.

“Can I take you on a real date?” He whispers in fear of breaking the air around you.

“Yes please.” You pull him in for another kiss and forget about whatever movie you were planning to watch.

At the next club meeting, you show off your new tattoo. Some groan, some clap, but most importantly is Eddie, who makes sure to line up your tattoos together. Standing together just as you always have. Just as you always will.