#i love it so much. i love clay. i love working in a studio. it sucks so much how i dont have room in my schedule next semester for art class

[mapicccc]

bashing my head in. I fucking love sculpting

[fuck-kirk]

Wait i just saw your tags that your job is the "do list of tasks until complete then leave" type - what sort of job is it? Bc that sounds amazing tbh

I will say my job isn’t like this ALL the time…maybe like 50-60% of the time

I’m a “pottery operator” at a community art center—but essentially I’m the assistant to the main teacher. I also teach classes, but that’s only a few times a week. The rest of the time my boss gives me a check list of studio chores to do. She is often not there bc she owns her own gallery, so for example every Monday and Friday I spend the whole day just checking off tasks on a to-do list. Things like cleaning and organizing shelves and cupboards, loading kilns (which I LOVE to do, unironically), mix clay, prep clay and tools for lessons, etc etc… and then when I’m done, I can either “lesson plan” which is usually me looking at pintrist, writing a bit, or working on teacher samples to see how I would demo it (which is very fun to me) or I leave, because I get paid salary, so if the work is done I’m good

So basically it is literally the perfect job for me. The perfect mix of social interaction (and it’s usually with other artistic people), teaching (which I also love to do), and mentally and physically engaging but NOT back breaking menial tasks that I can just check off on a to-do list (and I usually listen to an audio book the whole time..)

So, like, a pretty niche kinda job I guess….but it’s seriously the perfect fit for me

[e--mail]

been watching the great pottery throwdown with my partner and sister and it just really makes me miss pottery and ceramics so much. there's something ironic I suppose that one of mankind's oldest surviving arts is now something you have to take expensive classes or rent a studio space to be able to do

[art]

Creator Spotlight: @camberdraws

Hello! My name is Camber (any pronouns), and I’m a mixed media illustrator located in the southwestern United States. I love drawing everything, but I have a special interest in depicting strange creatures and environments, often accompanied by abstract imagery and mark-making. Professionally, I’ve worked creating concept art and 2D assets for museum exhibits, but currently, I am engaged full-time as a software developer and make standalone illustrations in my free time. I’ve been posting art on Tumblr since I was a teenager, and the site has been very welcoming towards my work to this very day!

Check out Camber’s interview below!

Did you originally have a background in art? If not, how did you start?

I’ve had an interest in drawing since I was barely sentient, but at thirteen years old I decided to become “serious” about art. I was all about reading tutorials and doing a ton of studies. I would tote my heavy instructional art books to school every single day (my poor back!) Despite all this, I decided to forgo art school in favor of a bachelor’s degree in Computer Science at my local college. Alongside my major, I received a minor in Art Studio with a specialization in fine art, which totally changed my views on creating artwork and drastically changed my style.

How has your style developed over the years?

As mentioned previously, my style did a 180 after I studied under some very skilled fine art professors! As a kid, my drawings were very realism-heavy and inspired by video game concept art. I mostly worked digitally, too. During college, I was thrown for a loop when we were instructed to do strange things like, for example, make a bunch of marks on paper using pastel, WITHOUT looking, and then turn said marks into a finished piece of art! I quickly and deeply fell in love with abstract work, and especially appreciated images that are not easily parsed by the viewer. Since then, I’ve made it my goal to combine abstract mark-making with more representational subject matter.

What is one habit you find yourself doing a lot as an artist?

Hmmm, one habit I really enjoy as an artist is strictly tracking the amount of time I spend drawing! I currently work a full-time job wholly unrelated to art, so I have to be careful with my time if I want to spend enough hours drawing each week. I created a spreadsheet that allows you to enter the amount of minutes you’ve drawn each day and calculate how much drawing time you still need to reach your weekly goal (I aim for 20 hours a week.) Having such a clear, numbers-based objective keeps me motivated to work like nothing else!

Over the years as an artist, what were your biggest inspirations behind your creativity?

I know this is a common inspiration, but Hayao Miyazaki’s work has been rewiring my neurons since I was a child. Seemingly all of my artistic interests can be summed up by the movie Princess Mononoke: it has strange/abstract creature designs, a strong focus on nature and environmental storytelling, and a mix of dark and hopeful themes. Additionally, I’ve been deeply inspired by video game series such as Zelda, Okami, Pikmin, and Dark Souls. But arguably, none of these have influenced me more than Pokemon! I’ve been drawing Pokemon since I could barely hold a pencil, and I haven’t stopped since! I believe my love of designing creatures originated with my endless deluge of Pokemon fanart during my childhood.

What is a medium that you have always been intrigued by but would never use yourself?

I’ve always been fascinated by 3D mediums and am so tempted to try them out! Whether that’s 3D models created digitally or sculptures made from clay, I profoundly admire artists who have this skill. Oftentimes, it feels like I don’t have time to delve into a totally different artistic paradigm. However, I feel very strongly that learning new skills can enrich your current work. I should take that advice and someday give 3D mediums a shot!

What is a recent creative project that you are proud of?

I am in the process of creating an art book (a dream of mine!) and have been executing smaller drawings of concepts I find interesting from both a visual and storytelling standpoint. A recent drawing for said book is that of a snail made of ink with an ink bottle as a shell, and it went absolutely viral! I’ve never had an experience like this as an artist before and it has been spectacular! I was able to open a shop using my newly acquired art printer and sell many prints of my snail. Creating something original, directly stemming from my interests, and having that resonate with so many people has been unreal. I couldn’t ask for more as an artist!

What advice would you give to younger you about making art that’s personal or truthful to your own experiences?

I would tell my younger self to chill out and experiment more! I was so caught up in the idea that I needed to have a realistic style to be considered “good.” I also believed that technical skill was the only measure of how worthy my art was. That’s not to say technical skill doesn’t matter, but I now firmly believe the creativity and voice of your ideas far outweigh the skill of execution in terms of importance. Technical skills should elevate ideas, not the other way around. Once I began to revel in strange ideas and stories for my work, depicted oftentimes in odd styles or mediums, I truly found my voice as an artist.

Who on Tumblr inspires you and why?

My peers here on Tumblr inspire me more than anything! Sharing my work with contemporaries and giving each other support brings me joy like no other, and keeps me motivated to continue creating. I wouldn’t be where I am today without them! @beetlestench, @theogm-art, @trustyalt, @ratwednesday, @phantom-nisnow, @svltart, @mintsdraws, @mothhh-hh, @jupiterweathers, @thesewispsofsmoke, @picoffee, @fetchiko, @kaisei-ink, and @pine-niidles just to name only a few!

Thanks for stopping by, Camber! If you haven’t seen their Meet the Artist piece, check it out here. For more of Camber’s work, follow their Tumblr, @camberdraws!

[eumppattv]

you’re so sweet ❀˖° ot7 enha 𖦹

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ cute things they do in a relationship

enha ୨ৎ reader fluff headcanon masterlist engene zone an: requests are open!

heeseung ۶ৎ make you cute messages on minecraft

as the gamer he is, heeseung spends a lot of his free time on his pc. as the boyfriend he is, he spends even more time involving you in said gaming as much as he can. that’s why when you agreed to play with him, he left you a cute message in your world made with your favorite colored blocks. as time went on, any time you joined his game, he would leave a sweet message outside your shared home.

jay ۶ৎ add your voice to songs

jay was obsessed with every thing about you, but he had to admit your voice had a different effect on him. there was one day where he replayed a voicemail you left him over and over again, smiling to himself in his studio. that’s when he had the idea to add the voicemail to a song he was working on. since then he finds his favorite voice messages and voicemails you’ve sent him, and adds them as intros or background vocals to his tracks.

jake ۶ৎ makes layla bring you things

we all know layla is well trained as it is, but jake decided to take her training a step forward. it all started the day he asked you to be his gf, he had trained layla to bring you a basket with flowers, chocolate, and a letter asking you to be his. since then he gets layla to bring you flowers, or he will give her your bags to bring down the stairs. once he even got layla to bring you coffee, and you still don’t understand how it didn’t spill. it’s the cutest thing ever.

sunghoon ۶ৎ take off guard pics of you

as the photographer he is, sunghoon can’t help but capture the beauty in life. and everything about you was beautiful. he would often bring a small camera to your dates, waiting for the perfect opportunity to capture your essence. like the time you were on a picnic and he took a picture of you petting a dog that ran up to your spot. or the time you were watching a scary movie and he caught you mid scream, although you argue there was no beauty in that one.

sunoo ۶ৎ arrange skincare nights

when it comes to self care, sunoo is the master. he often gave you advice on what products to use, but you would find it difficult to find time for yourself. so, he decided to have skincare nights once a week, where you would do movie nights with face masks, or play games while doing clay masks. he would even apply all his products on you, because he wants to take care of you.

jungwon ۶ৎ pretending to propose while on walks

early into your relationship you figured out that jungwon loved going on walks in his free time- and you decided to accompany him. on one of these walks, you witnessed a proposal and made a joke about how bizarre it was to him. since then jungwon randomly gets on one knee when going on walks, and you laugh every single time. sometimes he would even add a speech, and you would pretend to say yes.

ni-ki ۶ৎ put on music and dance with you

as the dance prodigy he is, ni-ki’s life is not complete without some music. he will shower with music, sleep with music, and when you’re around he will dance with you. you’ll be baking cookies, and he will put some music and pull you away from the batter for a dance break. he’ll guide your body around, moving you to the beat. there’s times where he will play one of his songs, and teach you a small part of their choreography, praising you when you get it right.

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join engene zone here!

@avocarua @kpoprhia @haechansbbg @yeehawnana @lilly-bubblelops @aishigrey @dior-girlie @gigification @wonnie-avenue @httpsneptvnn @dimplewonie @lovelingkam @ikeuluvr @lovelingkam

[yooniivrse]

pottery date | myg

summary. you never expected to find pottery so difficult, so it's a good thing that your boyfriend is right there, ready to help guide you with his gentle hands.

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pairing: yoongi x reader

genre: established relationship au, fluff

word count: 1.1k

content: yoongi and oc goes on a pottery date / yoongi helps oc with pottery / yoongi realises how much he loves oc 🤧

warnings: they’re both very much in love, thats all 😭

a/n: this was inspired by a random tiktok. i have no idea how pottery works so i apologise if any of this is inaccurate. this ended up being shorter than my usual drabbles lol. feedback, likes, reblogs, comments and asks are all greatly appreciated!! i hope you enjoyy <33

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main masterlist

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Pottery is a lot harder than people make it out to be.

You were convinced you’d be a natural at this. After all, how hard could it be to mould some clay into a simple bowl or vase? But now, as you sit at the pottery wheel with a lopsided, uncooperative lump of clay before you, the task seems almost Herculean.

The pottery studio was a hidden gem, tucked away on a quiet street. It was a warm, relaxing place filled with the earthy smell of clay and the constant hum of pottery wheels. This place was Yoongi's idea, after revealing that he had been attending classes for the past month and had completely forgotten to tell you. You had been annoyed with him at first, but your mood instantly changed when he invited you to attend a couple’s class with him.

Now you understand why he had such a smug smile on his face when he suggested it.

You glance over at Yoongi, who sits beside your wheel. His eyes are focused, his long fingers carefully shaping the clay into a perfect cylinder. He wears a simple beige top and dark jeans under an apron tied loosely around his waist. His grown-out hair falls across his eyes in small waves, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“How are you so good at this?” you ask. He looks up, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“I’m just lucky,” he says with a small shrug. "I've also attended more classes than you, so."

"Yeah, which is totally unfair."

Yoongi chuckles. “Want some help?”

You sigh, glancing down at your creation. “Please. This thing looks like it belongs in a horror movie.”

He chuckles, wiping his hands on a damp towel before approaching your wheel. “Alright, let’s see what we can do.”

He pulls his stool closer to you and wraps his arms around yours. Your fingers intertwine on the clay, and his breath fans across the side of your face. His touch is warm and reassuring, his presence somehow making the task seem less daunting. He shifts your fingers slightly, guiding your movements with gentle precision.

“Okay, press down a little more here,” he instructs, his voice low and soothing. “And use your other hand to steady it. See? It’s all about balance.”

You follow his guidance, feeling the clay start to yield under your touch, smoothing into a proper shape. The wheel hums softly beneath your feet as you find a rhythm, the clay cool and malleable against your palms.

“There you go,” he murmurs, his breath tickling your ear. “You’ve got it.”

You relax into his embrace and Yoongi rests his chin on your shoulder. The pleasant, citrusy scent of his perfume overtakes your senses, and for a moment, everything else seems to fade away.

It’s just the two of you, your head resting against his shoulder as you let him control most of your moves. You can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against your back and his calloused hands that gently move over yours as you mould the clay together.

“You make it look so easy,” you say, glancing sideways at him. His focus is intent, but there’s a gentle smile on his lips. You ignore the urge to place a peck on the mole that lies just beside his nose.

“It’s all about having the right teacher,” he replies, and you playfully roll your eyes.

Yoongi leans back slightly, letting you take control. You can feel his watchful eyes on you, his presence a comforting weight at your side. He remains close, offering guidance with small nudges or murmured suggestions when you falter.

Occasionally, he whispers words of praise and encouragement in that stupidly attractive voice of his and smirks to himself when he notices the flush on your skin.

As the minutes pass, you find yourself becoming more comfortable, the awkwardness melting away. The clay responds to your touch, smoothing into an even form that vaguely resembles a bowl. It’s far from perfect, of course, but it’s yours.

“Look at that,” Yoongi says, admiration in his voice. “You’re a natural.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Hardly. But it’s better than what I started with, thanks to you.”

“We make a good team,” he says with a grin, that gummy smile lighting up his face.

────

Before leaving, you drag Yoongi along to the pale, wooden shelves that line the walls, displaying an array of colourful mugs and vases with unique shapes and intricate designs. You inspect them all in awe, marvelling at the ones you find pretty and keeping them in mind as inspiration for your next piece.

A small mug catches your eye. It’s coloured in a light shade of cream, with baby pink bows painted across the exterior.

“Would it be taking inspo if I just copy this design?”

Yoongi chuckles softly, stepping closer to you to take a closer look at the mug himself. “Mhm, probably.”

You let out a disappointed sigh. “It’s so pretty though.”

He watches you stare at the mug like it holds the answers to the universe, unable to help the smile that draws across his face. The butterflies in his stomach flutter around at the sight of you looking so fondly at something so mundane.

The urge to kiss you is suddenly overwhelming. He’s so close to you that he can see the few moles dotted across your face and neck, and the faint pigment of your favourite lip gloss shining on your parted lips. In fact, he’s so close that it would take little to no effort to press his mouth to yours.

But he doesn’t. Instead, he squeezes your hand for a few seconds—a secret message that you originally came up with after sensing his hesitance to PDA.

I love you.

The action pulls your gaze from the mug to Yoongi’s face, eyes slightly wide with surprise but clouded with affection, lips curling from a smile into a grin as you mimic the action.

It’s stupid how you still manage to make him feel like this after all these years of dating. He’s embarrassed by the faint warmth that envelops his cheeks, but he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you.

God, he just fell in love with you all over again.

[shoomlah]

how do you consistently draw the same character without it looking weird or off every different time?? also how do i coordinate faces, i always make the eyes too far apart or too big or too small or make the mouth too close to the nose or chin edge. If you have any advice I'd really appreciate it since it looks like you have your art shit figured out 🙏

Oh man SO so much of it is just practice, and you're not alone! I honestly think everyone struggles with a sort of "generification" of their characters' features the more they draw them, even seasoned professionals. There's a tendency to just sort of average everything out into an unrecognizable mush over time, and it takes a lot of conscious effort to push back against that.

Here are a couple tips and tricks that I've found to be helpful over the years:

Make turnarounds and model sheets. There's a reason animation/game studios do this, and it is because we are all still bad at drawing a consistent face. Despite being gainfully employed. What are we, graphic novelists?? We wish. Anyway it's a great way to familiarize yourself with your character's face from multiple angles, and it gives you a single source of truth to return to anytime you need a refresher:

Gather real-life reference. Anytime I'm designing a character I'm pulling together a ton of reference of actual people who look, to some degree, like the character in my head. It's always a collection of analogues, never just a single person, but it can be a great cheat sheet for understanding how your character might move, emote, etc:

Make a 3D model. I know it seems daunting, but with the advent of programs like Blender and Nomad Sculpt it's becoming remarkably more accessible. Heck, even James Gurney was sculpting maquettes out of clay for Dinotopia back in the day! It doesn't have to be particularly detailed—just a sort of proportionate lump will do—but it's another great way to have dynamic reference that you can rotate and light accordingly:

Practice, practice, practice. Make expression sheets for your character! Either right there on the spot, just start drawin' expressions, or you can slowly collect drawings of your character that you like, as you draw them, and compile them all in one place for your own reference. Need to draw your character's head from a weird angle? Maybe you've already drawn it before and you can copy your own homework! Doesn't count as stealing when the call's coming from inside the house 😎

I'd love to pretend there's a magical point where you can just immediately rotate your character's head in your brain like some sort of photorealistic apple in a twitter meme, but a lot of the time it's reference, hard work, and whole lotta repetition. 😐👍🏼

[papurgaatika]

Keep A Leftover Light Burning

Pairing: joel miller x Ceramicist! reader

MINORS DNI WITH MY WORKS PLEASE !!

A/N: howdy howdy and welcome all now this is a very special fic for @burntheedges for the @pedrostories secret santa event!! I hope you like it and find it as fun as i did. I think this isnt a trope that we see very often, but after a healthy dose of tiktoks (and watching the scene from ghost again) this came into being. As always thank you to my beloveeeeeeed @carlynkurin for beta reading, and peace and love on the planet earth from me, xoxo Remember that TLOU is created by a zionist so please look at the resources at the end of this fic and in my bio on ways to donate and educate yourself!! tags: Ceramicist reader, smut, porn with plot, oral (f! receiving), publicish sex, strangers to lovers, lots of wet clay, joels arms require their own tag Word count: 3.4k Summary: Sarah forces joel to go take a day to himself, pushing him in the direction of your pottery studio. Despite calling yourself professional and priding yourself on your morals, you can’t help but… fantasize about the man in front of you. 

Joel needs to take time for himself. He’s always on, always ready to go at the flip of a switch,  never taking time to sit and breathe. Everyone knows how hard he works, and despite what he says, Sarah knows that he needs to do something calming. Something that doesn’t involve carving wood or going to the shooting range with Tommy on the off chance that both of them are free for long enough. So being the perfect daughter that she is, she enrolls him in a ceramics workshop that she had gone to once. It was a small studio, tucked away next to the Palace Theatre in downtown Georgetown, soft and quaint in the suburbs, away from the hustle and bustle of the city. Sarah managed to get a hold of you over the phone and explain the situation, a smile threatening to creep onto your cheeks at the sheer amount of care she had for her father. You tell her not to worry about the price and that you would stay open for an extra hour next weekend just to get him in, a squeal on the other side is all the confirmation you need as you pencil it into your schedule. 

Sunday rolls around and Joel… Well, he was being Joel. Stubborn and groaning as Sarah essentially pushes him out the door to make the drive up IH-35, complaining about “I build things for a living,” and “it’ll be a waste of time.” but Sarah is hearing none of it and one look from her has Joel slipping on his boots. In any other circumstance, he would have praised her for holding her ground, but right now he just sighs and gets into his truck realizing just how much of his stubbornness had rubbed off on her. 

He ends up at the studio just before 5, the sun starting to dip under the horizon, casting beautiful pinks and oranges around the sky. He’s still bitching and moaning as he makes his way to the building, taking a deep breath as he steps inside. You barely even hear the jingle of the little bell above your door, too busy fighting with your sink: now clogged with clay from your last class with 3 kids under ten who didn't understand that when you told them not to dump clay inside the sink. You had meant it. “Fucking thing!” you groan, poking a paintbrush into the drain, hoping to get enough clay out of it so that it would run again. 

Joel stares at you, half confused and half amused with the scene in front of him; your hair a mess, your apron covered in clay and paint, hacking into your sink in ways that he knows won't do you any good. He clears his throat after watching you struggle for about 30 seconds, stifling a smirk when you jump and look back at him. “Need some help? I’m s’possed to have a class now- my daughter-” he shakes his head at the idea of sharing the whole story again “Did I get the wrong time?” 

You look absolutely mortified, dropping the paintbrush in the basin and giving the man in front of you a weak smile “No! No, I just got a little... occupied… you’re on time” You wipe your hands on the front of your apron, not even bothering to attempt to fix your hair, before walking over to greet him. Properly this time. “You must be Joel. Your daughter was very persuasive on the phone.” 

Joel’s smirk shifts into a full-blown smile at the mention of Sarah, the pride he has for the girl shining through. “Yeah, she’s a good one.” he praises. Despite his reluctance to listen to her advice, he knows just how good her heart is, and how much she cares about him. I “Ain't sure what she told ya, and to be honest she hasn't told me what I'm s’possed to be doing here either”

You can't help but smile at his words, the pure adoration for his daughter combined with the slight nervousness in his voice was endearing in ways you weren’t sure how to describe. “No worries, I promise it isn’t anything scary.” You glance around the studio. Outside, the sky had begun to darken, the soft lighting of the different lamps inside the building casting the both of you in a warm glow. The glaze on the ceramics you had on display was a wide assortment of colors: intricately painted motifs, bright splashes of colors, silly cartoons, almost anything you could think of. You pick up a faded apron and hand it to him, watching him stretch as he puts it on. A brief flicker of guilt passes through you as you ogle him, but then you see the way his biceps strain against the fabric of his shirt and the guilt gives way to something primitive. 

He turns back around and you look away with a cough, a slight warmth creeping up your cheeks when he raises his brows at you. “Right um-” you stumble over your words, more unrefined than you would have liked to be “Sorry, sorry. We’ll start with choosing what you’ll want to make. I always recommend something easy, like a bowl or a spoon rest..” you pick up a pencil cup that had been painted to look like a pencil and a spoon rest that was a simple blue color, to show him “I already have the clay prepped so we can get started straight on th-” 

Joel cuts you off as he glances around the studio, pointing at a lidded cookie jar “That one.” His words leave no room for argument but certainly bring questions up to the surface. “I'm gonna do that one.” You had been making ceramics for years, starting with air-dry clay in school, continuing to use the wheel throughout university, and eventually quitting your day job to start the studio. You knew the skill level it took to make a jar, the precision and technique to keep it balanced, and it just wasn’t a beginner project. 

“I'm sorry, the cookie jar?” You try not to let your voice betray your disbelief. It wasn't that you lacked faith in the man in front of you, you made sure to be confident in all of your clients, it was simply an issue of skill. “I don't know if that’s the one for you to start out with, it’s a little advanced-” 

But Joel was having none of it. If he was going to be forced to sit here and make something to “calm him down” then damn it it was going to be something that takes skill and effort. Something that he could bring home to Sarah and brag about slightly. Was it a little strange that he wanted to one-up his daughter and prove that he didn't need to be here? Maybe a little bit, but he didn't dwell on it. “Yes ma'am.” His voice is set in the decision. “I'm sure it can't be that bad, let me at it.” 

Never one to truly tell people no, you simply nod and get the prepared clay out. It was soft and slippery, staining your hands a taupe color as you brought it to the wheel, plopping it down on the wheel, and pressing down on the sides to make sure it stuck. “Alright, so with the jar..” you gesture for him to take a seat in front of the wheel, moving to stand behind him “It’ll be a little bit more involved than something simple, but you're in good hands I promise.” Your words are soft, and frankly, you were excited. You didn't throw fun projects with clients as much as you’d like to anymore, focusing more on teaching the basics, so this was honestly a welcomed surprise. “We’ll just start with getting the basic shape of it, you’ll take your hands like this, and we’ll work it up.” 

You sit on your stool behind him, usually, you’d be able to reach around and help with hand placement but good god was he broad. You adjust and readjust your position a few times, finding it oddly difficult to find the right mix between comfort and functionality, eventually ending up with your legs spread a little bit past their comfort level, so that you could lean over his shoulder and help him with the shaping. You squeeze some water onto his hands, moving them to cup the base of the clay and pop the wheel to life. His hands were big under your smaller ones, the roughness contrasting both the soft clay and your skin. You can't help but feel a twinge of something stirring inside you as you help him bring the clay up and down, your hands guiding his. Joel’s brows were knit together in concentration, both endearing and attractive as you watched him focus on the clay. The movements of his hands under yours were careful, almost hesitant, his eyes peeking back at you every so often for assurance. 

Once the clay was at an appropriate size you moved your hands off of his, the wheel slowing to a stop. You swear that you see his hands twitch to stay under yours, but your mind might be playing tricks on you. “Now call me unartistic but this ain't really lookin’ like a cookie jar yet.” Joel raises his brows, a slight hint of teasing hidden in his southern drawl, and you can’t help but snort at the comment.

“I will not call you unartistic, it isn't supposed to look like a jar yet.” You hum and wipe your hands on your apron “We’ll do the lid to it later, but you have to actually make it into a bowl first.” your thumbs gently press down onto the center of the clay to form a soft dent. The wheel starts back up again slowly and you start to open the center up a little bit. “Right so now you just gotta take your thumbs like I did and- perfect!” Joel manages to press his fingers slowly against the clay, working it open, and god you wished that was you more than anything at that moment. You press on the sponge, the water dripping down his hand and onto the clay, almost sensually. Your eyes are locked on the way his thumb dips into the clay, the way the clay comes up onto his skin. Your mouth is dry, and you cough as you stand up, needing to take a deep breath and try to compose yourself. 

“Everythin’ alright?” Joel's voice rings out from behind you as you move to take a drink of water, and you swear if his voice was just a tinge deeper, you would have choked right then and there. In the rush of getting up, your brain had ceased to realize that moving off the pedal would stop the wheel from turning.

You feel like an idiot. A stupid, hormonal, completely unprofessional idiot. You take a moment to scold yourself mentally before turning around to face him again. “Yeah, yes. Sorry I just realized how thirsty I was, I just needed water.” You move back to your stool behind him, halfway composed, and move to start the next step. If you'd been in front of him for one more second, you would have seen the knowing smile on his face. There was no denying the attraction between the two of you. Pressed up against each other, hands touching, dim light surrounding you both, it was inevitable. You move your hand to show him the right finger position “so you’ll want to take your middle and ring finger-” You press the two of yours inside of the bowl to give him an example and you swear he laughs a little bit. 

“Oh, believe me, darlin” his voice rings out, big fingers expertly finding their way into the exact position. “I know all about this one.” You watch his fingers glide up and down the inside of the bowl, your hand on top of his, steadying his wrist. You bite at your lip, fingers shaking slightly on top of his. Your chest was pressed against his back and you could feel your nipples hardening. You were annoyingly turned on. This wasn’t normal for you, this wasn't something you do, get the hots for a client, but here you were. And with the way Joel's fingers were methodically moving over yours, you were begging that he felt the same way. “Wouldn’t mind showin’ ya all I know about it.” The want in his voice makes you clench subconsciously, your breath faltering for a second. 

You hold your breath for a moment as if trying to make sure you hadn’t imagined his words in a haze of horniness, only to be broken out of that haze when he shifts and pushes his stool back, and turns around to face you. Both of your hands were covered in wet clay and your aprons were messy, neither of which stopped you from pressing your lips against his. You sigh against his mouth as your hand's fist in the fabric of his shirt, staining the fabric with readily drying clay. “I don't usually do this,” you murmur when you pull away for air, your lips swollen and red. 

Joel just grins at your words “S’alright, honey,” his lips find their way to your jaw and move down to your neck, his nose nudging at the fabric of your shirt. “Don't gotta explain anything to me.” His voice is like molasses, smooth and syrupy, keeping you stuck on his every word. You let him move you around, the small wooden stools were less than ideal for either of you. In the mess of standing up and finding a table to bend over your shirt comes off and he groans at the sight of you, his hands grabbing at your waist, staining your skin with water. “Good god… sight for sore eyes…” You can't help but flush slightly at his comment, feeling more exposed while you stare at his fully clothed figure.

 Joel picks up on it, his hands moving from your waist to his shirt and apron, a frustrated noise leaving his mouth when the knotted strings keep him from taking it off. “Let me,” you whisper, reaching around to undo the strings, the fabric of the apron sagging and then getting tossed to some other corner of the room. You stare at him. You couldn't not stare at him. At the hair covering his chest leading down to his belt, the soft yet strong features of his body, at his hand undoing his belt. Your own shorts had been removed, your hands moving to reach into his jeans until he stopped you, a pout and protest forming on your lips. 

Joel just shakes his head at you, picking you up and setting you on a relatively clean table, his body wedged between your legs. “My momma raised me to be a gentleman,” he hums against your skin, kissing the tops of your breasts, nudging your nipples with his nose before giving each of them their own kisses “I didn't take ya to dinner, at least let me get my fill yeah?” Your back fully arched into his mouth as his lips wrapped around one of your nipples, hands gripping the edge of the table so hard your knuckles were white. The feeling of his tongue flicking against the hardened bud had you moaning out in ways you had never imagined you would, and you swear you could feel him smirk even as he licked a stripe down the soft skin of your tummy. 

His knees crack as he settles between your legs and the sight of him is so sinful you can't help but moan softly. He raises his brows at you, a warm chuckle leaving his mouth at the sound, his lips pressing against the inside of one of your thighs “Look that good?” His voice is laced with a gentle mocking as he presses another kiss, a hair's breadth away from your aching cunt “think I got the better view though.” You don't even have the time, nor the brainpower, to reply before his lips press against you, a groan vibrating against your skin as he tastes you. “Sweetest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever had… could get damn addicted.” 

Your lips are parted as his tongue swirls around your clit, your whines and moans spurring him on even further. “F-fuck joel-” you manage at some point, his broad shoulders keeping your thighs spread apart, despite how much they’d like to clamp around him. He was good at this and he knows that, moaning at the sound of his name on your lips, the words giving him a newfound energy. You feel his warm palms against your thighs keeping you spread open for him, and you almost whine when his tongue leaves your clit, only to cry out in ecstasy when his tongue prods at your pulsing hole. His nose is pressed up against your clit, giving you just the right amount of friction as he gathers your slick on his tongue, cycling between fucking it into you and laying it flat over your cunt. “Joel- joel oh fuck-” Your moans are frantic as he continues to send you closer and closer to that edge, his motions only getting faster as your hand fists in his hair. “Oh my god- fuck fuck fuuuuck-” your legs shake around his head, his hands keeping them apart as he works you through your orgasm, not stopping until you were spent and hazy, laying back on the table with shuddering breaths. 

Your eyes were pressed shut, chest rising and falling rapidly in the aftermath of your orgasm, only to peek open when you hear the clink of his belt. His mouth was covered in the sheen of your orgasm, a hungry look in his eyes as he spits into his hand and pulls his cock out. “Tasted like a damn dream,” he groans while he strokes himself. “Gonna remember this forever…” Your eyes are locked on the motions of his wrist, the steady pace, the pearly precum that was leaking from his tip. “Fuckin’ perfect… makin’ me feel like a damn teenager again.” You wait with bated breath as he continues to stroke himself, wiggling your hips in order to entice him. 

 “Joel,” your voice is soft, but so heavily full of need it was almost painful “Please… I want you.” If you were being honest, you thought that it would take more convincing, that you would have to ask more, but Joel was desperate, maybe more so than you were and so when he sinks his cock into your dripping cunt it was ecstasy for both of you. Your eyes fall shut again at the feel of him, the stretch so much but so good. “Oh my god…” you whine, pushing yourself onto him further, your breathing stuttering when one of his hands palms at your breast, the other one gripping your hip with so much strength you think it would leave a mark. 

“That’s it…” he groans, slipping into you all the way. “Fuckin’ perfect pussy, like she was made for me.” His words are punctuated with shallow thrusts that fill you up again and again. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him in closer to you. The feeling of his hips pressing against yours is something you would never be able to get out of your memory. 

You both lay there, bodies pressed against each other, his hips rocking into you slow and steadily, the dim lighting of the studio casting an ethereal glow over the scene. His hips move at a steady pace, keeping you full of him as the coarse hairs around him press against your clit with the right amount of friction. It doesn't take much time until he's panting on top of you, your lips pressed against each other's in a heated kiss as you feel him spill inside you. 

“That was…” you were breathless, his chest still against yours, the rhythm of your hearts syncing up. 

“Yeah…” He grins, pressing a kiss against your forehead gently. “I know I told ya I was a gentleman but, I really would like to see you again… of course no pressure if you don't want to or anything-” 

You cut him off with a small laugh before he can keep going, nudging your head against his. “I want to, Joel.” You smile gently at him “Plus, you didn't finish the jar.” You grin, looking in the direction of the unfinished work of art he had started. “And then I have to fire it, then glaze it, then fire it again, then… well you get the point, I think I’ll be seeing you quite a few more times, Joel.”

A/N: From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free

READ: This account stands with Palestine unequivocally, and so— I require everyone who interacts to educate themselves, and support/donate. READ THESE;  HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. Silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

DO NOT BUY THE REMASTER, TLOU2, TLOU1, OR ANY GAME FROM NAUGHTY DOG! neil druckmann (the creator) is a zionist.

PLEASE READ THIS. AND REBLOG THIS. 

Thank you for reading, and free Palestine

[cosmicalily]

'come to me, slowly' a hyunjin oneshot by @cosmicalily

"with you, there's no pretending, you know me, you know me." - 'juna' by clairo

author's note: short but very, very sweet. the whole ‘charm’ album is such a work of art in my eyes; it's so beautiful and reminds me of the dreamiest spring with my girls. i feel like hyunjin would really fw clairo so i decided to make a little something for him! i’m normally insanely protective over my precious wlw songs, but i think this song can be interpreted in a multitude of ways. can be read as a standalone fic, but works better as a sequel to 'episodic memory', which is part of a mini series!

warnings: pregnancy

It had been six months since you’d first told him. Six chaotic months of taking care of a new house and yourself in your new fragile state, days spent painting your bedroom deep emerald green, of Hyunjin washing your hair for you when you bathed, even though you insisted you were capable of doing it yourself. 

In the end, despite your love for your studio, the two of you decided to move everything into the cosy sunroom at the back of the small house. So when your lease ended, the two of you spent the day unpacking and repacking tubes of paint, jars of ceramic glaze, kilos of clay and, with the assistance of your old roommates, Felix and his now fiance’s minivan, moving the kiln to your home. When the floors were clean and windows washed and everything was unorganised but exactly where you needed it to be, Hyunjin spent long minutes kissing you in your new makeshift studio. Hundreds of kisses on your forehead, nose, cheeks and collarbone, and thousands on your lips, soft yet hard, slow yet feverish.

He still couldn’t believe you were having his baby.

Hyunjin didn’t think he could fall in love with you anymore, but seeing you in your home, the one you two had finally bought together, skin shiny in the summer humidity and dressed in only a pale yellow lace bralette and loose-fitting overalls, he found himself sinking even deeper. You fanned your face, mumbling something under your breath about the heat, and unclasped the two straps of your overalls, letting your belly show. Hyunjin walked over behind you, wrapping his arms around your lower waist, kissing your shoulder.

“Get off, baby, it’s so hot,” you grumbled, but let yourself melt into his touch. “I can’t tell if it's the hot flushes or the summer weather. Why isn’t your face all red and sweaty?”

Hyunjin chuckled. “Your pink cheeks are cute. You’re cute. I don’t think I’ll ever get how adorable your belly looks; I’m so excited for her to arrive, but I also kind of want to soak up this feeling.”

“Mm,” you replied, turning to face him and resting your cheek against his chest. “Me too.”

“My angels,” Hyunjin pulled you in tighter, kissing you then leaning down to press a kiss to your tummy. “My girls.”

“And we’re the luckiest girls in all the world,” you smiled, eyes glossy. “I love you so much, baby.”

His thumb moved to wipe your tears and kiss your cheeks. “I love you even more, pretty girl.”

Summer had long gone, and now Winter was rapidly approaching, orange leaves disappearing from the trees as the weather gradually cooled. You pulled a butter yellow mohair sweater over your shoulders and buttoned your jeans, walking out of your bedroom with a yawn.

Hyunjin had never been an early bird, but ever since Juna had been born, he’d grown to adore it. Regardless of whether it was four or five in the morning, he would be out of bed and with his baby, comforting her until she fell asleep again or, if she didn’t, strapping her in a baby wrap and taking her on a walk, the breeze cool on his face and the sun rising as he strolled. His heart would feel full to bursting with love for the being you had somehow created together, the baby you’d carried with such strength for nine long months. 

“Good morning, my darlings,” your eyes sparkled with joy when Hyunjin walked through the front door, a wide awake and giggly Juna cosied up against his chest. 

“Hi, pretty girl,” Hyunjin smiled, unwrapping Juna and passing her to you for a cuddle. He left the wrap on the kitchen bench and kissed you softly. His body and soul belonged to you. For you and Juna, he would tear down every star from the sky, rehang the moon if it fell in the night, chase away the clouds until the sky was clear again.

You were his world.

As he looked at the hundreds of paintings and photographs that lined the walls of your home, his entire body warmed, and he held the two of you closer.

“We’re yours, Hyun.” you whispered, and his heart erupted like a supernova, his eyes blinded with colour.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Late Bloomer 2

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Peter Parker, Steve Rogers (Professor AU)

Summary: you start your second year of university but as the workload grows more intense, you start to feel your age. (mid-30s reader)

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. 

Your confidence starts to recover as you show up to your Art Studio class. It’s in the same room as last year and the familiarity makes you feel a little less lost. As it so happens, the professor is also the same as your first. 

Professor Rogers welcomes his class in as he did the year before. He explains that the brushes, paints, and materials in the ‘community garden’. The collection if for those in need and the need is never questioned. Students are encouraged to come take what they need and leave what they don’t. With the cost of materials, it’s a kind concept. You took advantage of it more often than you liked. 

You gently unzip your leather artist’s bag while he begins the lesson. As he reads over the expectations in the syllabus, your eyes meet. He smiles and continues. You still, reluctant to distract him. 

“Last year, you would have gone over 2D concepts and techniques. This year, we will delve into 3D. Every two weeks, you will submit a project. Lessons are Tuesdays in the current slot, but the studio will be open daily for three hours after seven. Whether you work here or in your own space, I expect all work to be on time. Extensions will not be given outside extenuating circumstance.” 

His voice is rigid but you know well he isn’t as strict as he pretends to be. It’s the first day, he has to make a show. Still, you never submitted anything past the due date. Not in this class. 

“I am aware of your other classes and I have not set unrealistic goals alongside those. However, for those who have joined as elective students, you might want to make note of the withdrawal deadline,” he girds. “Now that we’re past the fear mongering, we will start the session. We’re starting standard. Clay. First assignment, molding and shaping, then we will delve into pottery. Basic, you’ll get deeper into techniques if you are enrolled in the subject course itself.” 

His tendency to overexplain can overwhelm but you are reassured by your first year. Rogers wasn’t the worst but he had standards. Besides, this is what you’re here for. This isn’t an elective, this is your major. You like this stuff and that makes it a little easier. 

You delve into the first week. After going through some foundational work, Rogers lets the room fall silent. Most students will have a degree of experience from high school or freshman classes. You aren’t entirely lost yourself. 

Professor Rogers makes a round of the room, stopping to chat with each student. You sense him coming close and knead your clay without much purpose. He stops across from you, just on the other side of the table. 

“You’re back?” He says. 

“Wouldn’t you know, I need more than one course for this dang degree,” you kid. 

“Really? Jeez.” He scoffs as he presses his fingertips to the table, “so, how was your summer? Did you go to the beach?” 

Your eyes flick up to his. You remember last year he wasn’t so... casual? You don’t know how to explain it. His hair is a little less neat and he doesn’t sport his usual button-up. You always made note of his expensive shirts and that he didn’t seem to care about the paint stains. This year, he’s in an open canvas jacket and a plain tee. 

“Yeah, but it was overcast. Didn’t feel like mixing that much grey,” you answer. “What about you? Good summer?” 

He shrugs and smiles. Something about it is stiff, “it was a summer. Taught a few interim classes. Nothing special.” 

“Oh, well, summer is overrated.” 

“Is it? Don’t tell me you’re into all that pumpkin spice?” He sniffs. 

“I’m more into winter. I love snow and hot chocolate. Simple tastes.” 

“Very minimalistic,” he praises. “Well,” he taps the table and drags his hands off, “welcome back.” 

“Thank you, Professor.” 

You refocus on the clay as you consider the various objects up for grabs. You could recreate the broken porcelain figure. It reminds you of ancient Greek ruins. Or you could go simple and claim that large silver spoon. Your indecision has always been your greatest obstacle. 

“Alright, so, from here on, you have the rest of the time to work. You’re welcome to pack up and do it in your own time but I highly recommend staying,” Rogers announces to the room. “I am here for your benefit.” 

The class murmurs back at him. Most keep on what they’re doing while a few fidget and wait only ten minutes before they leave. You would have done the same ten years ago but this isn’t just a checkbox on a list. This is you trying to reshape your whole life. You’re done with waitressing. You’re here to learn, to make this into something real. 

Besides, your roommate is a fan of metal music and it doesn’t do well for your creativity. You don’t hate the music but it’s just not the vibe. You press your fingers into the clay and stare off across the room. Your eyes haze as you fall into thought. 

Cerise texted before you got there that she wanted to meet up after and Primrose gave a staunch thumbs up. You missed them too. You can’t wait to catch up. You can only say so much over texts. 

You smile as you think of them. Your little ragtag trio. Cerise, the youngest, who always manages to get lost wherever she goes and Primrose who only ever knows exactly where she needs to be and what needs to be done. You’re the oldest, the maternal light that keeps the younger from wandering too far and the other from overthinking her coffee order. 

Your vision clears as you sense movement. You blink as you find yourself staring at Professor Rogers. Oops. You give a sheepish smile and put your head down. As much care as you put into others, you often forget yourself. While everyone assumes you have it all figured out, and you would think that you would at your age, you are just another student muddling through to graduation day. 

[cococharm]

Just found your blog I’m so excited! Finally someone that writes for dpr!!!! Can I request something with dpr Ian. Whatever you want really maybe something cozy and cute ? -love Vivi

Shaping Love

Pairing: boyfriend!DPR Ian x reader Genre: fluff, romance, slice of life Warnings: established relationship Characters: 3320 Summary: After a long day, Christian and Y/n decide to go on a pottery date. AN: Thank you so much for requesting this, I hope you enjoy reading this. It’s my first time writing so I hope it meets your standards as I'm not confident in writing. (I rewrote this 4 times)

I glanced at Christian as we ventured into the pottery studio, excitement bubbling in my chest. The fragrance of clay and the peaceful murmur of the wheel occupied the room.

The instructor welcomed us with a warm smile, directing us to our stations. Christian looked around with childlike wonder, his eyes lighting up as he took in the tools and materials. I couldn't help but smile at his energy, feeling a surge of love for him.

We settled in front of our wheels after donning our aprons. The instructor gave us a brief demonstration, her hands moving skillfully to shape the clay. I watched, captivated by the transformation from a lump of clay to a lovely, delicate pot.

“Ready to give it a try?’’ Christian asked, his voice brimming with excitement.

I nodded, putting my hands on the wet clay. As the wheel began turning, Christian sat close to me, his hands cautiously working on his piece. We exchanged glances and laughed silently.

From the get-go, my attempts were awkward, the clay wobbled and collapsed under my touch. Christian chuckled next to me, his laugh a comforting sound. He was also struggling, his pot looking more like a bowl than a pot, but he was having fun and that's all that mattered.

He came closer and said, “Let me help you.” his hands covered mine, guiding my movement. Together, we coaxed the clay into a steadier structure, our hands working in a state of harmony.

The feeling of his hands over mine, strong yet gentle, sent a thrill through me. We were shaping the clay, and as it were, molding a piece of our relationship. The wheel spun smoothly, and the clay began to respond to our touch, rising and forming a simple but elegant shape.

“You're a natural,” Christian teased, his breath warm against my cheek.

“Only because you're helping me,” I replied, leaning into him.

As the instructor strolled by, she gestured approvingly at our progress. “You two make a great team,” She remarked.

Christian grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “We do, don't we?”

We worked on our pieces for a while longer, lost in the rhythmic motion and the tactile pleasure of the clay under our hands. Eventually, we both had something resembling pots, albeit a bit wobbly and imperfect.

“Not bad for our first try,” Christian said, inspecting his creation with a critical eye.

“I think they’re perfect,” I said softly, admiring the unique quirks of our pieces. “Very much like us.”

Christian gave me a tender look as he turned to face me. “I liked that. Imperfectly perfect.”

We carefully placed our pots on the drying racks, our hands canvassed in clay but our hearts full of warmth. The instructor offered to fire them for us, and we thanked her, already looking forward to seeing the finished products.

As we cleaned up, Christian reached out and took my hand, his fingers intertwined with mine. “I’m grateful that you’ve agreed to join me today,” he said, his voice earnest. “This was… special.”

I squeezed his hand, having a flood of affection toward this man who always found new ways to make our time meaningful. “It was perfect. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

The evening sun cast a golden glow on the streets as we left the studio hand in hand. The memory of our pottery date would be another cherished moment in the gallery of our love, a testament to our beauty of creating and growing together.

[malewifeharem]

CELEB JING YUAN?? ☁️

celebrity!AU jingyuan

彡- ,, a collection of my brainrots about dating jing yuan as diff types of celebs!

cw ⁞ none unless ur allergic to rich hot general fluff. not proofread.

an ⁞ this may be a little ooc, i apologise ehe. I TRIED PLEASE I PROMISE RGRGGRHRGHGRHG

imagine ceo!jingyuan picking you up from work at your office, patiently waiting for you in his car. he doesn't understand why you want to continue working when he's already mentioned countless times how he could provide for you. you'd never have to work a day in your life again! (lets pretend we're hardworking in this) he gets out of the car to greet you with a smirk before opening the car door for you.

"get in, princess."

you smile at him and thank him for sending you home again — this has become a habit of his, though he sees it more as his duty. you quickly arrive at his residence and were about to bid him goodbye when he suddenly stopped you — his hand gripping your wrist, reluctant to let go. you ask him what's wrong and he just has the saddest pout on his face, looking like a dejected, kicked puppy. (lion?)

"why won't you let me spoil you... i know how much you hate your boss, if you resign, you'll never have to deal with him again. i'll pay for whatever you'll ever want and need, darling," he murmurs sleepily, pulling you closer to him so he can rest his head on your chest. how are you supposed to say no to him like this?! you don't notice his smug smirk as he hears your heartbeat fasten rapidly — he already knows you'll give in to him this time. (sly mf)

imagine artist!jingyuan who sits in his studio everyday, painting his beloved lover onto countless numbers of canvases — his work forever preserved. they all lay untouched, scattered on the floor. he's displeased. you'd visit his studio occasionally and always find him grumbling and utterly frustrated with himself. usually, when he's hit with a creativity block like this, it passes within a couple of days but he's been in this state of discontent for weeks at this point.

"i've been painting for ages now but nothing is appealing," he groans.

you turn to look at the multiple canvases strewn all across the floor and you beg to differ but ultimately decided to stay quiet — you won't be able to understand an artist's grievances anyway. you comfort him to the best of your abilities and you can tell that he appreciates it a lot — the weight of his eyebags lifting slightly. you return to the studio a few days later to see it in a completely different state of mess, the canvases from before are now replaced by sludges of clay.

"oh, you're back. ah, so you've seen the ceramic statues. it's you, my love. it seems your beauty is so breathtaking that it must simply be portrayed in multiple forms of art."

imagine world renowned author!jingyuan who sits in his garden everyday, inscribing his poems on scrolls — the work forever preserved. he hums in satisfaction as he rolls up the piece of parchment, slotting it into a case before sending it off to you via his personal cycrane. you're already reading his first draft within a few hours and pointing out any mistakes he's made so carelessly — making sure to add sarcastic comments by the side to add salt to the wound. after a few days of corrections, the work is ready to be sold to the collectors — the two of you meeting up to thank them for the smooth transaction.

"must you be so cruel every time you mark my work, my love?"

"it's because you're so sloppy with your work, 'yuan. aren't you a famous author? hm?"

"sorry, i work best with a reward-based system. maybe you should give me a kiss for every grammatically correct sentence."

"if that's what will solve your problem then fine."

"don't act so cold, we both know you'd like that."

you notice that his writings have become longer and you haven't been able to spot any mistakes either. (rip your sore lips)

[everykindofnerd13]

Trolls Human AU but it’s college student snack pack raising Tiny diamond as all of their kid when Guy Diamond finds himself with a child at the rope young age of 19.

The crew having a schedule of who watches Tiny at any given time on any given day. (It is extensive and color coded and Branch had a great time making it.)

Everyone explanding tiny diamonds repertoire of skills before he can even comprehend his own existence. Like.

Suki who holds a one year old Tiny on her lap while she works on mixes.

Cooper and D who switch off holding Tiny in one of those chest carrier things while they play DDR.

Poppy who will give Tiny a bag of scrap paper and tell him to make a picture inside it. (She doesn’t want to let him actually touch the paper, lest he ingest it.)

Branch who puts on science kids shows like Wild Kratts and Sid the Science Kid on the background while he and Poppy have Tiny so that he kid can start learning fun science stuff early.

Sati and Chenille who started by dressing up Tiny in their studio, but ended up just letting him use his creative guidance on them. (They hold him above a pile of fabric and whichever two he picks they have to make work as a garment.)

Biggie who has “tea parties” with Tiny and Dinkles (his cat) and is always trying to teach the baby proper table manners, it’s futile, for Tiny is a menace.

Smidge who teaches the baby to “work out”. (She actually owns a bunch of grip training baby toys that she hands him while she lifts weights.)

Barb who insists she doesn’t like babies but will happily take Tiny in for a night when needed, making little purée dinners for him and spoiling him rotten for the evening.

Legsly, who encourages Tiny to dance with her in her living room, gripping his hands and holding him up so they can “dance”.

Fuzzbert who is canonically mute and uses sign language to communicate in this universe, who loves to bring Tiny out to the park to experience nature with him, always mesmerized by the baby’s wonder at the clouds and the leaves. (Listen, I just like to imagine that Fuzzbert as someone who often finds themself unable to make themselves heard, quite enjoys the satisfaction of such a small child finding joy in the same things he does.)

Tiny who is very monkey-see monkey-do, and actually is a very well rounded kid after being raised by so many well rounded people who care about a love him.

When they’re together as a group, usually at game nights, they’ll make Tiny little “mocktails” aka, like, mango juice, so that he doesn’t feel left out while they all drink their drinks of choice.

Tiny is the most spoiled kid on earth because he has so many aunts and uncles willing to pitch in and get him whatever he wants.

Brozone and Viva also loving Tiny when they meet him one day while Branch and Poppy are in charge of him. Poppy has a little stroller with a sunshade, and Branch is happily carrying the baby bag so the stroller isn’t too heavy to push. At first, everyone’s mortified cause they thing that their baby siblings have gone off and had a whole baby without telling them, but they quickly notice the “Tiny Diamond” printed across the baby bag and realize it’s in fact their siblings’ close friend’s baby that they’ve heard so much about.

Viva making the kid candy necklaces only to be quickly shut down by Clay who explains that they’re a choking hazard, and they should not be given to a baby.

Bruce who has kids of his own and will invite Guy Diamond to drop Tiny off at his place when he and the rest of the snack pack want a night out.

JD who is terrified of children after how much he feels like he screwed up with Branch, but is still infatuated by the little boy and basically gives him anything he wants.

Floyd who mostly stays out of the way while the baby’s around but is the first to volunteer to put him down for a nap so that he can sing him a lullaby and rock him to sleep.

Branch and Poppy being very blush when old women tell them they have a “beautiful family” when they’re out and about, because while they do consider Tiny and all of their friends family, they know the older women mean something different.

Listen this AU is living rent free in my head. I have a timeline. I have a whole thing. I have backstories and modern world adaptations of trauma. It’s pretty fun.

[enjoythesilentworld]

Jay... ily

Wilmon + "it's essential to put your fingers in deep"

Nina <3 what better use for this quote than PotteryTeacher!Simon and EagerStudent!Wille? (aka another incorrect use of a pottery studio)

you want filth i will give you filth (nsfw)

"It's essential to— to put your fingers in deep," Wille said shakily, and Simon could only hear him over the sound of the spinning pottery wheel because he was wrapped around Wille from behind, chin tucked over his shoulder. 

Simon hummed, “That’s right, just like I taught you,” and bit at the soft skin of Wille’s neck, loving the way he could feel the rapid pulse there, loving how eager Wille was to please him, even under Simon’s relentless touches. 

What was meant to be an encouraging press of Simon’s palm into Wille’s groin instead pulled a surprised, broken off moan from the man, and his hands faltered on the wet clay, denting the lovely vase he’d been working on. 

“Oh, love,” Simon cooed sympathetically, rubbing his free hand soothingly over Wille’s tensed stomach. “And you were doing so well. Now you’ll have to start over.”

Wille whimpered and sagged back into Simon, hips rocking forward into Simon’s other hand, searching for more. 

To be truthful, it was a bit unfair. If Wille were touching him like this, even Simon would have a hard time making a simple vase. Nonetheless, they had a deal, so Simon lifted both hands away, pulling a beautifully desperate whine of protest from Wille’s lips. 

“Simon, please, I’m so—” 

“Baby,” Simon interrupted sternly, mouth pressed right against Wille’s ear, “you prove to me that you paid attention in all my lessons, then I’ll bend you over the workbench and fuck you like I know you want me to.” 

He placed both hands back on Wille, earning another half-muffled moan. Oh, how he loved to hear such sounds.

“I’ll keep touching you,” Simon mumbled, shifting forward on his own stool to press his front more firmly against Wille, to show him just how much this was killing Simon, too, “but I need you to finish that vase. Can you do that for me, pretty boy?”

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

Okay I just watch digital circus because of your post and it was a blast and I love the character and the idea of a scenario came to me

Caine, Pomni, Jax, Ragatha, with an actor reader who loves to play into the adventures and play NPCs to set up the immersion maybe even write up some ideas for Adventures to make things more fun

Anyways have a great day night whatever and thanks for the fun writings

Thank you! Hope I did your ask justice!

Caine, Pomni, Jax and Ragatha x Reader who makes NPCs and writes

Caine

★ He really appreciates your help! It's hard work making up games for everyone to play while taking into account everyone's preferences. No matter how much you protest, he will use each and every idea you come up with.

★ Caine sets up a little studio for you to work in. It's filled with paper, multiple typewriterband all sorts of art supplies. Maybe some clay for you to build some models of a character you want to create?

★ You're NPCs are always great and often end up being a hit with the others. By that I mean the gang tolerates them more than his NPCs. You manage to give them more personally than he could have ever given.

★ If you somehow get Zooble to join in the fun he will congratulate you for doing a good job. His hat is off to you, you did something he thought was impossible. Now only if you could get Zooble to stop trying to swear...

★ I know the NPCs don't have any ai but Gooseworx confirmed that Bubble is a much simpler AI created by Caine. Therefore, he can theoretically make one of your characters come to life.

Pomni

★ At first she thought that the characters you make were real people. Once you told her that they were nothing but glorified puppets she had to question the sentience of everyone she's met so far.

★ You gotta make this girl a therapist. Aside from that it doesn't take her long to start asking questions about why you like to make different characters and stories.

★ She's not as creative as you, doesn't really understand the appeal of creating something like you do. The most she can do is come up with a few names.

★ Despite knowing that they aren't real people, Pomni still apologizes to the NPCs. It's force of habit. Maybe you could add some dialogue for if/when someone apologizes for something?

★ If we're being completely honest, she doesn't really like any of the NPCs. It just feels wrong when she needs to talk to them for something. It's like speaking to one of those robotic pre-recorded messages over the phone.

Jax

★ He's extra mean to the NPCs you make, just because he can. He knows that they can't get offended or upset but he doesn't care. They will be getting pushed into the mud.

★ When you decide to scrap an old character he gladly helps. The moment you say you need to get rid of it he's reaching for the nearest baseball bat. No need to worry about cleaning up 👍

Jax when the NPC starts to annoy him

★ Jax thinks it's funny when you get upset over him being mean to a NPC because you've grown attached to some of them.

★After that he asks you what you plan to make next. Can you blame him for being curious? Jax wants to know what you're planning before anyone else. Don't worry, he can keep a secret.

★ As a "joke" he told you to try and make a NPC that Caine would need to heavily censor. Just to see what the ringmaster would do. Whatever you made that day was thrown into the cellar.

Ragatha

★ She likes to watch you make different characters for certain situations. Caine wants to set up a fishing adventure? Best believe you are making an NPC who's a fisherman to set up the immersion.

★ You might overwork yourself while trying to come up with a game for everyone to play. Ragatha sometimes needs to step in to tell you to take a break. There's no use overworking yourself, go take a break!

★ She really wants everyone to have fun with the adventures you put together. There's no doubt that she loves them. Also she's the first person to yell at Jax for being mean to the NPCs.

[harlowsbby]

Fun & Games 💘

Requested, leaving a hickey on Jack’s neck even though he has an important event to attend.

“Alright, alright baby I love you but I’m almost certain I won’t have any skin left if you keep sucking on my neck.” Jack joked as you pulled away to admire your work.

“Hmm you weren’t saying that a few minutes ago.. last time I remember you were groaning and moaning all in my ear.” You smirked as his cheeks turned a slight shade of pink.

“Whatever, let’s not act like you weren’t doing the same.” He laughed.

“How bad is it though? You know the guys will clown me all day if I pull up with a hickey.”

Jack had to meet up with the guys in a few hours to go over a few last minute things for tour and the last thing he wanted to happen was for them to laugh and joke about him having a hickey on his neck.

Even though they were all grown he just knew they couldn’t resist the urge to make fun of him.

Based off the shock expression that was displayed on your face and the way you covered your mouth to hide your laughter, Jack already knew it was bad.

“Babe.” He whined softly and tossed his head back in frustration. “I told you to be careful now I’m going to have to deal with this all day.” He huffed.

You rolled your eyes and removed yourself from his embrace. “Where are you going?” He stated as you walked out the bedroom door.

“I’m going to go freeze a spoon and then put it on your neck.” He was even more confused both his eyebrows scrunched together.

“A frozen spoon? What is that gonna do?”

“I’m not sure but I seen on tik tok if you freeze a spoon and place it on your hickey it’s supposedly suppose to help.” You shrugged your shoulders and went to freeze the spoon.

After a few minutes of letting the spoon sit in the freezer you took it out and placed it on Jack’s neck to which he jumped back due to the coldness.

“Stop acting like a baby and let me see.”

You placed the spoon back on but there was no luck the hickey was still very much there.

“What am I going to do now? I can’t go meet up with them like this.” He groaned once more.

“Are you ashamed or something?” You pouted and his eyes widened. “I’m not baby I just it isn’t really prefessiona-.” He stopped talking when your lips started to quiver.

You tended to act like you were upset with Jack at times even if you weren’t just so you could get your way.

“It’s fine it’ll be fine hopefully they won’t notice. I’ll see you later okay?” He placed a kiss on your lips before leaving.

You smirked. “Works every time.” You laughed and went to catch up on some shows while Jack tried to prepare himself for what was to come.

Little time skip.

“Jack, what’s that on your neck man?” Ace asked the minute Jack walked into the studio.

“It’s nothing why are you even looking at my neck.” Jack asked and pulled the two strings of his hoodie to try and cover his neck.

“Why are you acting so strange?” 2fo asked him with a raised eyebrow.

“I’m not acting strange you’re all acting strange.” He quickly stated and turned his head a bit to see all the guys looking directly at him.

“How are we acting strange? You’re the one wearing a hoodie indoors and earlier when I called you, you weren’t trying to show your face.”

“Right, what’s going on with you?” Urban added on.

Clay watched as Jack fidgeted in his seat there was only one other time Jack acted this way and that’s when he was trying to hide a hickey from Maggie back in High School.

A knowing smirk pulled at the corners of Clay’s mouth.

“You have a hickey don’t you?” Everyone in the room stopped questioning Jack as Clay spoke.

“Dude, did Y/N leave a hickey on your neck?”

Ace laughed and sure enough Jack removed the hood from his head and turned to the guys and sure enough right below his earlobe was a big fat hickey.

“Damn!!” All the guys yelled out. “Y/N must be half vampire or some shit.” Ace laughed along with everyone else.

“Honestly because damn that shit is huge.” Urban laughed and went to take a picture of Jack’s neck.

“Not too much on my girl alright ima wear her hickey proudly.” He stated which resulted in everyone laughing at him again.

“Yeah come on let’s not act like you all didn’t have any at one point.” Nemo stepped in to break it up and to defend Jack.

“You do you Jack but we’re not letting this go.” Ace said and sadly he meant that.

The entire day was filled with the guys clowning and teasing Jack, but he didn’t dare or paid them any mind.

He was in a healthy and beautiful relationship and that’s all that mattered.

(I hope you enjoy anon! and everyone else 💘)