#i need to brush up on the next gens myself tbh

[bisexualmcqueen]

i saw someone in the tags ask a few weeks ago mention they wanted to learn how cars work but didnt know where to start

in 2017-2019 when i first got into actual cars i found these series very helpful:

and heres a 3d animated diagram/breakdown of the g7 (next gen) NASCAR cup cars introduced 2022:

[ajokeformur-ray]

A BUG?????? LADY???????? 😡😡😡😡

YOU ARE NEVER A BUG DO YOU HEAR ME??!!??!????!!! YOU ARE MY WIFE AND I LOVE YOU GOD DAMNIT 😤😤😤😤😤😤💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

… ok carry on with the arthur rant 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

Gennnnnnn my beloved !!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

This made me giggle so hard while brushing my teeth that I had to spit early to avoid choking (do nOT take that outta context, I can see that smirk from here🤣😂) so apologies for laughing!!! On the other hand, I can FEEL the indignation coming off you in WAVES omllllll 😩😭😂💀 I hear you, loud and clear!!!🥺 you are never ever a bug either and I fucking ADORE hearing from you, it makes everything feel right in the world again & I feel like things are gonna be okay when you’re here🥺❤️YOU’RE MY WIFE AND I LOVE YOU TOOOOOO (Arthur’s giggling, I can hear him😂🥺) 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Arthur rant? Arthur rant.

(Mostly self-shipping, some character analysis, ALL me being a werewolf and going wild in one solid stream of consciousness)

My fucking GOD where do I start with Arthur?

Some exposition, first, as to where this rant came from. I know I don’t talk about Arthur much anymore but that’s because it hurts. But more on that in a second. Last night, I was trying to study and I just had no motivation to even find something to put on Netflix to play in the background while I did work (usually some kind of horror because I love me some safe and cathartic fear), and I wanted to go home. I was sat there drinking coffee staring into space and then you know when you get a brain worm and a song plays in your head and the chords are a bit out of reach so you almost have to listen a bit longer before you can figure out what the song is? I had that, with the instrumental version of ✨That’s Life✨, and it made me think of Arthur (duh) and then I found just a little bit of energy to put on the Frank Sinatra rendition, and within literally ten seconds it felt like the ache in my chest, tight from stress, was already beginning to wear away, and I picked up my pen and did some more work but then the song finished and the ache came back and holy fuck I can’t do this I should drop uni I should quit I’m stupid - and I SWEAR in that moment I wanted nothing more than to go home.

Alone, in my bedroom, surrounded by deadlines, assignments, books, and I wanted to go home.

This is so cliche but I did what anyone would do - I followed the music and I ended up, quite spontaneously, watching Joker. You know me, babe, when I watch Joker, I plan it. I section off the time in my day and almost have it be an appointment (a DATE). I wear the clothes, the paint, I put a sign on my door so no one knocks and disturbs me (I’m disturbed enough but I mean…😂), and I just go for it. Lights off (even with my fear of the dark, I can stomach having just the TV on so long as I keep my eyes on Arthur - he makes it so it’s like I’m bigger than my fear and it doesn’t matter because HE’S there🥺) and everything.

But last night I didn’t.

I just followed the music and surrounded by my study stuff, I watched Joker. I was surprised by it, tbh, there I was with no energy to even scroll Netflix and all of a sudden I’d sat up straighter and put on a film so damn fast it was like I’d slipped outside my body for a minute. Didn’t even remember scrolling YouTube to find it. One minute I just wanted to go home and the next, there he was.

Arthur.

Gen, honey, when I tell you that I nearly fucking CRIED at the sight of his back, his brown curls and that white T-shirt. I miss Arthur so MUCH and yet he’s been here the entire fucking time. Every day since 4th October 2019, he’s been here, and it’s amazing to me that I can love him just as strongly today as I did the day the film was released, the day I met the person I never knew I needed and the day I found some wonderful friends which I still have today. Just the sight of his back had me wanting to cry, and I know I had to pause it just to pull myself together because I can’t cry before the title card!! (I can but I don’t think I realised how much I NEEDED Arthur last night; my body did, though). I just instinctively took a long deep ass breath and my entire body melted into my desk chair and holy fuck every feeling I’ve ever had about Arthur hit me all at once and all I could do was stare at him.

Film moves on and Arthur picks up his medications and then I remembered THAT I’D FORGOTTEN TO TAKE MY IRON TABLETS so I paused it, grabbed my meds, and took them just as Arthur got them out of the bag and it felt like doing something with him in real time and I 😭😭😭😭😭😭I even flicked off my light just as he flicked his off when Murray comes on show because I wanted to feel like we were doing something together, cosying up and watching TV. I felt ridiculous doing it but also why the hell not? There’s so much of Arthur that I carry with me every day; when I wake up at 530am for work, I lay there until 6am listening to music and pulling myself together because once I get up, I gotta hit the ground running and I just need 30 minutes to prepare myself for a day which doesn’t stop. I get on the bus when it’s still dark out and I instinctively look for a yellow hoodie (gotta buy me one of those!!!!!) and dark curls. I go to work, I come home and it’s dark out still, I have a shower, have dinner, do the chores, then I have to study and do this this and this and fuck babe I’m always so damn TIRED. But I think of Arthur and step step step and I think of his knowing and weary smile, the way he carried on even when he likely felt that it was absolutely useless because things are never gonna be any different so why should he try so hard? But he did, every single fucking day, he kept going and I draw so much strength from that. Because if Arthur can do all that feeling as he does, then I can do it, too.

When I step off the bus, I find myself looking for Arthur. In every corner, in every alley and alcove, in every known smoker’s corner, I look for Arthur but I also know that I don’t need to because I carry him with me purposefully every day. Even if I’m not consciously aware of my thoughts, I know he’s in my mind somewhere because the ones we love are always on our minds in some kind of way. When I’m yawning so hard that my jaw is cracking on my way home I’m imagining him doing that smile and raising my hand to rest his cheek against it; telling me in his own way that he feels it, too. When I get home and kick my shoes off to go jump in the shower, I picture him with me, too, and I wash my hair as gently as I would wash his because he wouldn’t like me being so rough on myself and I’d do anything to make him proud. All these small moments, again and again and again, every day, I do because I want to be someone he would love (I already am but you know what I mean), someone he would be proud of (jury’s out on that personally because I’m not quite who I wanna be yet but I’m getting there and I know you and Arthur are proud of me and that’s more than enough!).

530am - 1020pm is a long fucking day (and sometimes it’s even as late as midnight, depending on what I need to get done that day; and about two weeks ago I went to bed at 330am because I had an assignment due and I got up at 530am to go to work and omllll that was such a hard day because I still stayed up until 1020pm out of necessity and honey I’m a permanently exhausted pigeon😩😩😩) but I try so damn hard, though at the same time it feels like I’m barely trying. But Arthur!!! He had his job, he was going to therapy, actively working on his dream career, he was taking his medications, caring for Penny…. He was working so fucking HARD and because of that, I find the strength to at least TRY to do the same.

When Joker came on screen, oh my god. Oh my fucking gOD. Have you ever screamed without making a sound? It was like my heart was in my throat and the dam BROKE. Out of nowhere I was sobbing and smiling and giggling and baby!!! Joker !!!! Even now I’m grinning omg please his name is… oh, you know. I genuinely don’t think I realise sometimes how much I need Arthur, Joker. So many days I tell myself no, I refuse to let myself watch the film because I have to study or I have to do this or this or this, but I think I need to remember that that’s a way of hurting myself. When I miss Arthur and want to see him so badly that I can’t focus on my work or I want to cry, I will still tell myself no, and that’s something he DEFINITELY wouldn’t agree with, even if he’d understand it. I’ve never tried to study while having the film on in the background but I think I should start doing it because what better motivation to have right in front of me than the man I’m literally doing an entire second degree for because I want to go into a career to help people like him?

My job allows me to help real people, too, and so Arthur is, arguably, at the core of everything I do. I admire him so much - not for the terrible things he did, obviously, and this post isn’t really about those things (though it’s important to acknowledge them) - and every time I’m walking slowly or barely studying or lying in bed later than I should be, I think of Arthur and what he’d do or say. He’d get his head down and he’d just… do it. Whether he wanted to or not, whether he was feeling well or not, Arthur would do it. And if he can do it, then so can I. And Joker!!!! He’s still in so much pain; he chose his name but not what came with it and I’d give anything to give HIM even five minutes of a love so intense all he would be able to do is sit there and take it in. I miss him so much that it HURTS but he’s always right here and all I have to do is listen to the soundtrack or watch the film and there he is. The ACHE I carry with me every day, which sits in my chest and is full of ‘oh shit oh fuck I can’t do this there’s no time. It’s only 7am but there’s no time in the day to do anything and I have this this and this to do and I have to get that done and I need to remember this and don’t forget this and holy fuck where’s Arthur what would he say to me right now?’ Is soothed immediately by Arthur.

Those dark curls, those green eyes which swim with all the sadness, anger and want in the world, that heart so full of love that he devotes his life to making children laugh even when he’s off the clock just because he loves it so much, the laughter which rips out of his throat, the hiccups when he’s genuinely giggling, the makeup, the clothes, the baggy cardigans and his soft voice, those deep set frowns and weary smiles, the sharpness of his eyes when he’s wronged and trying to speak up for himself only to go quiet when he realises yet again that no one’s hearing him, the way he takes care of others until there’s nothing left to give but yet more is still taken, the way he laughs at the jokes he writes, the way he works so fucking hard all the time and tries and tries and tries and TRIES until it fucking BREAKS him…

If beautiful, ethereal, tragic mess Arthur can do what he does - terrible things aside - then so the fuck can I. Looking at him HURTS because when I look at him, I remember who I was in 2019. I was in an extremely bad place, so lonely and angry, bitter and cold, but Arthur taught me better. He found me at a time when I didn’t wanna be here anymore and his story told me that someone understood, someone saw me, someone knew what it was like but that someone was still going on, and through him I became softer, kinder, wiser, I found some beautiful amazing friends (if you think I mean you, you’re right and I love you) and I found a career I wanted (and Gen, you helped me find a way into that career and encouraged me and you DO encourage me endlessly and I could never thank you enough for that) and I’m still trying to become softer, kinder, wiser still, to find parts of me I dislike (of which I have many lmao I’m p sure I carry many a red flag and I wanna work on them and improve them) and to find something in Arthur I admire so I teach myself to be better in that way. He’s so inspiring, so full of love and life and strength and wisdom and good fucking god what I wouldn’t do just to be able to look at him and tell him all of these things, to tell him he’s so very loved and I’m proud of him and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.

I spent two hours last night with my heart in my throat and tears in my eyes - like I do every fucking time - but it was exactly what I needed in 2019, it was exactly what I needed a year ago, it was exactly what I needed now. No matter how far away from myself I feel like I stray, one look at Arthur and I remember 2019 Erika and how hard she tried and I remember 2020 Erika and how badly she felt and I remember 2021 Erika and how hard she tried, and then I look at me and I realise that 2019 Erika and every other me is in here; Arthur brings me home to him and therefore to myself and I love him so much but I have to wonder sometimes… if he saw me today, would he recognise me? Would he love me still? The answer’s yes, of course it is, but overwhelmingly I feel like that has to be earned. That’s just another thing to work on.

The point is, I’ve loved Arthur since 4th October 2019 and every time I think perhaps I can’t love him more or I worry that I don’t love him at all (that’s stress making me unable to process anything BUT stress, as you so patiently remind me every time I come to you with this worry), I find myself falling in love all over again and I know that whoever Erika is right now, she’ll be okay. She has Arthur, so how could things be so wrong?

(I have so much to fucking do today as always and I’m scared and worried and STRESSED but this is such a good way to start the day so I think I’ll be okay. Joker will make it that way lmao studying while cuddling the cushion which looks like his suit is NEVER enough to soothe the ache but I like to think that every time I hug the cushion he can feel it🥺😭💔)

[boop-le-snoot]

PARTY FAVOURS I CHAPTER 27

First time reader click here

TWs/Summary: If you read carefully, you knew this; if you didn't: reader was drugged at the party. Hangover from Hell ft. boys being cute, Loki being best friend material and reader fully integrating him into the Gen-Z community via Monster energy drinks and depressive music whilst being sad. I live for Loki/reader friendship tbh.

So folks, this is the last big plot thing before the endgame. I reckon it's about 10-15 chapters left until out happy ending and the next bit is going to focus on developing reader's and Stephen's relationship. There will be smutty parts too - either chapters or interludes, idk, depending on how well they'll integrate into the story.

I love y'all.

Ow, was my first thought upon waking up. My head throbbed something fierce, the pressure behind my eyelids was unbearable and my mouth tasted like a bog on a sunny summer's day. I was warm, from both sides, and one of the bodies felt foreign in everything besides the smell - sandalwood leaked through the lead curtain of alcohol and sex.

Needless to say, I had trouble piecing together the fine details of last night but had enough coherence to remember our... Activities. I was sore and Strange's long arm was still possessively draped over both me and Tony. The luck was on my side as I carefully wiggled out of his grasp, padding to the bedroom on quiet feet. The sorcerer barely moved, only grumbling briefly at the loss of my warmth and immediately quieting, shamelessly snuggling into Tony.

I would have not exaggerated if I said it was the worst hangover of my life. It was baffling, really, because I'd gone way wilder and didn't suffer half as much after effects; my first attempt to brush my teeth ended with my face resting against the toilet bowl, my empty stomach rejecting what little liquid in it was left as the room spun on its axis. That was incredibly embarrassing and I hoped my boys wouldn't wake up to witness my best impression of a bum - and they didn't, both men still sound asleep and interwined like snakes when I put on the shirt closest to me and departed in search of coffee.

My mood only worsened. Steve and Bucky were already up, shoveling an impressive amount of eggs and bacon, as Bucky quietly teased Steve about his own hangover. The blonde man was slightly greenish, disheveled - we traded equally glum looks and nodded to each other in silence. The smell of food made my stomach churn and I retreated, one black coffee in hand, towards Bruce's lab, having been informed by Friday that neither Tony not Stephen planned on waking up.

"Morning, Princess," Bruce smiled kindly, pushing his glasses out of the way to hold me close and give me a sweet kiss. "Had fun? The boys still asleep?"

I giggled at Bruce calling Tony and Stephen boys. "Yeah. I wouldn't be wearing Stephen's shirt if he was up and about, I think." I pointed out the obvious.

Bruce chuckled, holding my face to give me a long, thoughtful look. I stared back, hoping convey my respect and adoration without having to say a word; like Tony, I wasn't particularly apt when it came to talking feelings. Whatever Bruce was looking for, he found it, and sealed it with another kiss, twice as long and twice as sweet. We stood like that, my head on his shoulder and my arms firmly holding him to myself, until the elevator dinged behind the glass wall, revealing a shirtless Stephen and Tony in his pajama pants, both men bickering animatedly.

"Aw shit, here we go again," I rolled my eyes, unhappy about the possibility of the magic being broken. I rather preferred all three men to be like yesterday: friendly, kind and relaxed.

"I will kick them out if I have to," Bruce shrugged, turning me around to face them.

Tony smiled, seeing me, stopping mid-conversation. "Princess, I am disappointed in your lack of manners. You left me with Merlin and he is mean." The engineer unceremoniously snatched me from Bruce and smooched me, hangover breath and all.

"Gross, Tony," I rolled my eyes, giving the man a light shove in the chest. "Morning, Steph," I addressed the third man who had gone back to his usual stoic expression. Just to see his resolve crack, because I loved pushing his buttons, I gave him a good morning kiss too, and was unexpectedly blown away by the eager response from his side. As I pulled back, I noticed his cheeks dusting a light pink.

"I came to get my shirt but I think you'd rather keep it," The sorcerer's fingers caressed my skin beneath the collar of his shirt, voice still low and scratchy from sleep and those magnetic eyes fixated on the exposed flesh of my chest, no trace of previous awkwardness.

"You sure 'bout that?" I pushed one of the sides off, exposing my shoulder, seeing Tony gulp the remainder of my coffee, one hand already messing with the screen that Bruce was focused on. "I think I look better without it," I would never miss an opportunity to tease the uptight man.

"Quite," He grinned, "It's a shame I didn't get to see much last night..." Two could play this game, okay.

"Oh, but you will," Tony piped up suddenly, a hint of smugness in his voice barely covered by Bruce's fond chuckle. I really didn't know what to say, suddenly overwhelmed with the attention, my emotions amplified by the hangover - party drugs tended to exaggerate my anxiety on the comedown.

And what a comedown it was. My social energy ran out very quickly so I complained about a nasty headache and retreated into my room, Bruce's gentle hands pressing a bottle of Ibuprofen into my own. Despite my attempts to tame my rioting body, it got worse before it got better and shortly before lunch, I had thrown up twice more. Pissed off, I ran a bath with cold water and sat in it until I felt somewhat human to prepare myself for a journey to Wanda's apartment - as a last resort, I was going to chug on of Pietro's Monster energy drinks that I knew he kept hidden there.

The retrieval was a success. Cans securely hidden in the kangaroo pocket of Tony's oversized hoodie I had thrown on, I had to make a haste detour to throw up once again - the closest bathroom was in Loki's apartment and I only managed to knock twice before throwing open the door and making a mad dash for the porcelain throne, a very confused Asgardian following my movements with raised eyebrows.

"Hangover from Hell," I croaked once the first wave subsided. Loki nodded in understanding, waved a hand to summon me a water bottle and shut the door behind himself.

As I sat there, desperately trying to understand why was I feeling like utter shit... It clicked. Bile rose to my throat once again, and I just dry heaving, mulling my revelation over and over again.

I didn't take any drugs. I had been drugged. My memories became hazy and dream-like shortly after someone had given me the drink... Someone, who? It was a split-second moment; Sam, even in his drunk state, didn't keep his eyes off me for too long. Maybe it had been someone the team knew? Possibilities began playing out in my head. Cursed was my overactive brain - the anxiety from the leftover drugs was making me panic.

"Fuck, FUCK," My hands shook - I only noticed it because I had spilled water on myself, adding cold and wet to the unpleasant sensations I was already experiencing. "Why am I such a fucking fuck-up." Taking a drink from a stranger seemed downright idiotic now. Middle school bullshit.

"Are you alright?" Loki's worried voice interrupted my inner monologue.

"Yes," I replied, voice cracking. "No. I don't fucking know."

The door all but flew open, the Asgardian taking several long strides to take a good long look at me. The frown on his face tells me all I needed to know about my physical and mental state.

A slender hand tucked a stray lock of hair behind my ear. "What happened?"

I laughed tersely, feeling tears to begin welling in the corners of my eyes. "I'm an idiot," Seeing his face get annoyed briefly, I conceded: "I got drugged yesterday. My drink."

The hand that he had slid between my shoulder blades froze. I felt his whole body go rigid and his nostrils flare, the smell of ozone and something foreign - magic - filling the small space. The air around us became charged with the power of his anger. "Pardon?" His voice was dangerously quiet.

I physically fought with the need to flinch away from him, settling for lowering my eyes and staring at the dark stain on my hoodie. "I got carried away dancing. Someone handed me a drink and my stupid ass just shotgunned it," I confessed, picking at the wet spot. "And I can't tell anybody because I had a threesome with Stephen and Tony," I suddenly realised, my voice raising in pitch. "They're gonna think I didn't want it and feel bad. You know how Tony blames himself for everything under the sun..." Another wave of dizziness and nausea hit me as I leaned against the wall closest to me.

"Alright," Loki conceded after a brief pause. "We absolutely are telling the others. I'll make sure they understand," The Asgardian stated firmly in a tone that bore no argument. Seeing me lift my head to protest, he interrupted me before I could say anything: "Did you... Did you want it?" He asked me, hooking a single finger under my chin to look me in the eye.

I nodded, feeling my face heat up.

"You're not lying. The team knows of my ability to detect lies. Nobody will blame anyone..." Loki trailed off, obviously already plotting something. I wished it were a prank both of us were conspiring on instead of... Trying to make sense of this cluster fuck of a shit show. The circus called, they seemed to have left their clowns behind. "Although I will have a word with Sam." The Asgardian muttered darkly.

"No, it's not his fault. I just got too relaxed, I need to pucker up and be responsible for myself," I protested, damn well knowing it wasn't the Bird's fault. Everyone was drunk and I should've known better.

"It's not yours either," Loki sneered, seeing right through my self-loathing. It took a deep, slow sigh for him to calm down. His expression softened and the hand that was on my back resumed the gentle stroking as he scooted closer to me to press my side against his chest. "Vile people of this kind aren't exclusive to Midgard. It could have happened to anyone."

I nodded, my logical part briefly taking over as the waves of nausea and dizziness waned. I stifled a giggle, coming to another sudden revelation. "You holding up my hair as I barf out my hangover? That makes you qualified for the position of my Best Friend," I stated with a snort.

Loki chuckled, relaxing bit by bit. "I accept the position," His voice was unusually soft and a little bit shaky; I chose to tactfully ignore it. "Shall I call for assembly in the war room?"

I sighed, the dread and anxiety creeping it's way back in. "Can we just... Wait a bit? I have something- hold on-" I rummaged around my pocket, taking out two cans of Monster. Loki eyed them curiously and I extended one to him. "It probably won't do much for you but for me it's a last-resort hangover cure." I popped open the metal cap, seeing him do the same. "Be warned though, it tastes kinda funky if you're not used to it," I announced the disclaimer but it simply egged Loki on.

The scrunched up face he made was pretty funny. "It's sour but sickeningly sweet at the same time? I can't tell," He briefly eyed the written ingredients on the can.

"There are a bunch of flavors. Pietro likes the plain one, I like the purple one better, it's not so tongue-burning." I paused to inhale loudly. "If this is what college life looks like, I don't want to go," Mustering up my courage and gathering my balls in a knot, with one broad motion I closed my nose and poured the carbonated acid down my throat until my eyes watered. "Gimme a minute," I hiccuped, trying to keep it down.

Wide-eyed, Loki took a chaste sip of his own drink, eyeing me warily. He looked part impressed part disgusted with the little stunt. "I am pretty certain that is counter-productive."

"Caffeine make brain and body go skrrt," I argued back. "Friday, play my "grant me the sweet release of death" playlist. I'm upset," I announced and the AI obliged silently, the first notes of Placebo's 'Exit Wounds' beginning to play. If I was going to mop in a stranger's bathroom, I was going to do it with style. Even if said style was just simply stealing in my own misery with emo background music.

Loki stared at me, I stared back, both of us lost in our respective minds. At one point, he began swaying to the music slightly, resting the cool tin of the can against his cheek; I followed suit, mouthing along to some of the lyrics. It took us about a dozen songs to finally finish the liquid acid that was Monster energy drink and my ass felt like the bathroom tile itself: flat and hard.

"Do you ever feel like the universe just hates you for no fucking reason?" I groused, taking Loki's outstretched hand and slowly feeling the blood rush back to my legs.

"You wouldn't believe," He rolled his eyes in solidarity, vanishing away the empty containers. "Norns, give me a Hel-damned break."

I laced his arm through mine as we exited his apartment, feeling considerably less upset than I was before. I couldn't protect myself, but one look at Loki's sullen, irritated expression was bound to scare off anyone who dared to interrupt our mission.

THE TAG LIST IS NOW OPEN! @another-stark-sub ​ @mostly-marvel-musings  @vozit ​ @littlegasps ​ @pilloclock ​ @shereadsinquiet @downeyreads ​ @hermione-grangers-wife ​ @individualistfem ​ @sleep-i-ness @capbrie @lillsxd @agustdowney @dee-vn @justanotherblonde23 @fanngirl19 @persephonehemingway @softie-socks @schemefrenzy @letsby @cutenessloading @romeo-the-cactus @jelly-fishy-babie @mikariell95

[softslashers]

Wildflower.

Pairing: Flower Shop AU! Asagiri Gen x Reader 

Word Count: 1,798

Summary: Gen runs a flower shop; Y/N comes in to buy some flowers and can’t help but be drawn in by his mischievous smile. They find themselves coming in more often than they truly need flowers.

Warnings: None that I can think of, its pretty wholesome.

A/N: Important to note that I already posted this on AO3 a little over a week ago, read it here! I plan on coming back to this blog and doing more, I think limiting myself to just slashers kind of set me up for failure tbh. I’m going to expand to a few animes/mangas I like, but there will be a lot of villain/slasher content on this blog still!! If you want to unfollow I totally get it!! I’ll post some updated rules later tonight!

              Spring had finally arrived and brought with it all the best parts of the year. The weather was pleasant when you had left the house that morning, electing to spend your day off taking a walk around the town that you had moved to only weeks ago. There was so much you wanted to see, but the busyness that comes with moving and starting a new job had left you unable to experience the town you now called home. A cool breeze brushed past you as you stepped out, it was cool, and the sky was dotted with clouds. Taking a deep breath in, you watched as leaves and freshly bloomed flower petals floated in the air, stepping forward, you allowed the wind to carry you along with them down the street, towards your destination.

              There were many small buildings that lined the streets of the town: boutiques, family run restaurants and cafes, even a little flower shop that seemed to catch your eye every time you passed on your way to and from work. You had wanted to visit all the shops in the area, help support the local businesses and grow acquainted with the flow of people in town. Unfortunately, over the weeks that had passed since your arrival, you had only managed to visit the nearest grocery store. You decided that you would make the most out of the day, visit as many places as you could, and treat yourself while you were at it.

              The first store you had wandered into had not been too special, it was a small clothing boutique that had clearly recently stocked for the spring weather that was now upon you. Nothing in particular caught your eye. A bookstore was next, everything they sold was second hand, and you ended up making out like a bandit. This continued for a few hours, weaving in and out of stores, slowly accumulating more bags as things caught your interest. Eventually, you had worked up enough of an appetite to decide to stop in one of the cafes in town. Purchasing yourself a small meal and a beverage, you finally took notice of just how sore your feet had gotten from all the walking you had been doing. As you took a seat at one of the tables, you decided that you should be heading home soon, and after you finished your meal you would only allow yourself to visit one more shop.

              It had not been a difficult choice in the slightest. You had been wanting to visit the cute little flower shop that you seemed to pass every day, and besides it was spring, what better time to get something floral to liven up your apartment! And like that, your excitement began to build again. You quickly finished your food, threw out your garbage, grabbed your bags and, once again, you were off down the street.

              The flower shop was adorable, white walls were accented by the colorful bouquets sitting in the window display, vines climbed their ways up towards the roof, and what appeared to be a hand painted sign sat above the door. As you entered, a soft bell chimed from above you and you stepped into the warm light. You were the only person in the store it seemed, with not even an employee sat behind the counter to greet you. Yet the store was still inviting, warm light cast over the array of blooming flowers, quite a few of which you had never even seen before. It smelled heavenly as you approached the first display to the right of the door.

              Lost in thought and unsure of what to purchase, minutes had passed and you hadn’t even noticed the man that had now come to stand behind you, a nearly mischievous grin on his face and his arms crossed in front of him.

“Hello,” the man’s voice startled you, causing you to jump and whip around to face him. A chuckle left his lips as his grin seemed to widen even further. “Are you looking for anything in particular?”.

“No,” you responded, “just something for my counter”.

The man nodded his head and appeared to get lost in thought for a moment. You were curious about him, he was not particularly tall, probably around 5’6 or 5’7, he was slim, and had dark lashes that brought out his gray eyes beautifully. What had really struck you about his appearance was his hair. You could only think of describing it as an asymmetrical bowl cut, with one side having a long piece that reached his chin. The cut wasn’t the only interesting thing about his hair, it was split down the middle, half black and half white, yet it didn’t seem like it had been dyed that way, the parting was too indistinct to seem purposeful.

“I haven’t seen you before,” he brought his eyes up to meet your gaze, “you must be new.”

“I just moved here a few weeks ago, I haven’t had the time to explore until now.”

              The man hummed at your response, turning his head away from you again. He wandered around the store for a moment before coming to a stop in front of a display of yellow flowers, picking up a bundle, he turned on his heel and approached you, grin still present on his face.

“These,” he then shoved the bouquet into your hands and stepped back, “they’ll look lovely on your counter, I’m sure.” As you held the flowers, you recognized them as yellow daffodils, and smiled back at the man before nodding your head and walking over to register with him.

              He had been right, they did look lovely on your counter. Every time you spotted them out of the corner of your eye, you found your thoughts drifting back to that interesting man. From that point on, you decided you would go back to the store every week, once the flowers started wilting, for a new bouquet.

              The first week you came back, man had greeted you with that same grin, and asked you what you were looking for this time.

              “Dealer’s choice!” You had responded, hoping your excitement might cover up your nervousness. This response seemed to please him, as he hummed in agreement and began to wander around the flower shop once again. This time he came to a stop in front of a display of chrysanthemums, picking up a bouquet of pink ones, he then returned to you and placed them in your hands, before staring at you with an expectant look.

              “Well?” his gaze shifted from your eyes to the flowers and then back up.

              “They’re beautiful!” You could have sworn you saw a bit of pink tint his cheeks before he turned and made his way to the counter.

              This tradition continued for months; you had never missed a week. Always stepping into the store with a warm smile, excited to see what the man would pick next. You had eventually learned that his name was Gen, and as the weeks passed, found yourself staying longer with each visit. Your conversations grew from short interactions about different kinds of flowers to what was going on in your lives and personal troubles. Gen began to feel like an old friend, always willing to listen and offer up his advice, which you felt would sometimes get you into more trouble than you were in to begin with, but he had not led you astray yet. He even began to open up about his own life, you had hoped that it would quell your curiosity, but taking in information about him only led to wanting to know more. Feelings had bubbled to the surface, and you liked Gen more than you felt comfortable admitting. Maybe even loved him. For the time being, you had decided to suppress the feelings and force your current friendship to be enough to satisfy you.

              It was a Tuesday in late summer when, upon stepping into the store, you found Gen sat behind the counter, a bouquet already in hand and a bit of red spread across his face. He stood abruptly, the stool he had sat on let out a shrill squeak, and quickly made his way over to hand you a bouquet of small yellow flowers mixed in with larger white ones. His smile seemed less mischievous and more genuine today.

              “Do you know much about flower language?” he asked as he took a step back. You shook your head.

“You should really look into it. Those are gardenias with yellow acacia.” Before you could ask him anything, he shifted the conversation elsewhere. This visit had been your longest yet, you had entered at midday and did not leave until he had begun to close up for the night. Though it had been hours, you never once found yourself bored, and when it was time to leave, you even felt a bit disappointed. When he said goodbye to you that night, he seemed different, maybe a bit nervous. You tried not to focus on it as you made your way home.

It was only when you crawled into bed later, laying there half asleep, that you remembered he had told you to look into flower language. You forced yourself to sit up, ignoring your exhaustion, and grabbed your phone from your nightstand. When you saw the results that appeared after looking up the contents of the newest bouquet he had picked out for you, you felt your heart clench in your chest and heat rise to your face. You were giddy, like you were in middle school again and your crush had just acknowledged you for the first time. Falling asleep that night proved to be rather difficult as excitement coursed through your veins, you were going back tomorrow.

              Morning came slower than you hoped, and you were out of bed as soon as the sunlight shined through your window and onto your pillow. You had to practically force yourself to slow down and wait until you knew Gen would be at the shop, time had never passed more slowly.

              When you eventually did set out, you found your quick paced walk evolving into a near run. You had to see him. You had practically thrown the door to the shop open, the small bell ringing out into the air. This had startled Gen from his place at one of the displays, where he stood setting out freshly prepared arrangements of various colors. He had whipped around, face looking unlike anything you had ever seen on him before. He seemed scared, but hopeful.

              After taking a moment to catch your breath, you met his gaze. A smile crawled its way up your face,

              “I love you too.”

[kyidyl]

Can we talk about art for a second?

I’m pretty sure none of you are following me for art content because that’s just not what I do normally, but I’ve been working on some stuff and I just wanted to share. Here’s my current WIP:

I’m using sketchbook on my iPad Pro, and...can we just talk about process for a second? I’m gonna put this behind a cut just in case it gets long and because this isn’t my normal content. 

So I’ve been drawing almost my entire life, but I didn’t really start teaching myself anything good until around 9th grade (which is like...14 years old.). I started by copying Disney characters and then I was introduced to comic books and I copied those. I was in college when digital art start making its way into the art world. People would color their pencil drawings (this was shortly before tablets, so...with a mouse.). I grew into an artist around the time people like Aimee Major and Stephanie Lostimolo were really starting to stand out. And I don’t know about other fandoms, but I was in the gargoyles fandom and from what I can tell...a LOT of modern digital art has its genesis in that fandom. Anyway, what I’m trying to say here is that I started using photoshop with version 3.0 and I’ve had a Wacom tablet almost since the day they came out (gen one graphire tablet represent!).

I’ve never, in all that time, gotten the hang of digital painting. I have a hard time with tablets because you can’t tilt them like you can tilt a paper and it takes a weird sort of hand-eye-screen coordination that I just never mastered. But digital art is so beautiful that I’ve always WANTED to be able to do it. I can make graphics and edit photos but I have a hard time with painting. I have seen the million myriad ways of doing it, and most of them start with the same idea: lay down flats and then lighten or darken as necessary. And this never worked for me because a, the airbrush tool isn’t painterly enough for me and b, it takes for goddamned EVER. For. Ever. And I’m a fast artist! I can spit out a whole line drawing in like a half hour-45 mins with traditional media. But I have adhd, and so finishing long term large scale detailed projects is often not in the cards for me. So dumping like 48 hours of work time into a painting isn’t going to work for me.

But recently I’ve gotten back into art again and I’ve been watching the sky artist of the year and I decided I was curious about oil painting and, well, one hyperfixation later, here we are. I don’t have the money or space for actual oil painting, so I went to sketchbook to see if there was an alternative, and there is! So because I wanted to learn how to oil paint I finally figured out how to digitally paint and I’m gonna share that with you in case you, like me, struggle with the time input and focus required to do digital art.

First, I started practicing poses by drawing an outline over any image that caught my fancy. I have a good understanding of human anatomy because of my science background, but my poses aren’t creative and I especially struggle with perspective and multiple figures in an image. So I started to do line drawings over an image. Here’s the stock image I used for the WIP:

Look at all that fabric! Look at the movement! I love it. So I traced it:

Yes, TRACED, because tracing is a tool like anything else.

Then I choose colors. I pick 5: a midtone (the color you want the thing to be perceived as. In my case, you can see it in the WIP at the top.), a slight dark, a slight light, a blackened tone for deep shadow, and a very light tone for highlights. I always default to white light when choosing these colors, and I’ll get to my reasoning further down. The palette for the robe looks like this:

(Ignore the tan and blue, they’re for another project)

Then you start to lay down flats. Now, I do this with the synthetic oil brush in sketchbook because I like the texture (this image though I’d laid down the flats with the airbrush months ago and didn’t want to redo it, hence the lack of texture and the 100% opacity.), and as with oils, my approach to digital now is to layer rather than cover. Staying in the lines isn’t important. In fact, you should go outside of the lines because it will help you get shadows and highlights along the edges later. What IS important is putting everything on different layers. When in doubt, new layer. I work from back to front, which means that the base layer is the background. In front of that is the skin, in front of that is the robe, in front of that is the teal inside of the robe, in front of that is accessories. Hair varies depending on what’s going on with the image. Here I’ll probably put it between the skin and robe. Ask yourself: what is this covered by? And the use that to decide layer placement. Special effects are a whole other thing, as are highlights. I’ll get to that in a second tho.

The next step is to create an oversketch. This serves much the same function as an undersketch in oil painting, only in reverse because your reference photo is under - and covered - by your work. I started doing it because as I was painting I was flicking the layer on and off, making it transparent, whatever just to see where the shadows are on the reference image. It was a real pain in the rear. So I started making the blobs and borders of the highlights and shadows with an oversketch. You don’t need a method for telling which boundaries are for shadows and which are highlights because for that you can just turn the layer on and off. Just mark where the General shapes are. Here’s the oversketch for this drawing:

See? Blobs of General Area. When you’re painting, use them to lay down color and then turn them off when you’re blending because they’re not part of the final image and you don’t want to end up with gaps that were covered by the over sketch. To do this, I use the 9b pencil tool and black, but tbh just se whatever you like. That’s just my preference.

Now, for the shading. I started by trying a bunch of different natural media brushes but I eventually ended up sticking on a kind of weird choice: the fan brush. I keep the flow around 20%, which gives me these nice textured marks to lay down color, but then if I don’t lift the pencil up it stops laying down color and instead starts to blend. This means a, I can make it as smooth or painterly as I like with one tool and b, I can paint and blend with the same tool. No more muddying up my drawings by over-blending with the smudge. No losing the texture while blending because it blends with the texture. And the shape of the fan brush allows me to be smudgy with I like, but also will do hard edges. Plus the blending thins out the colors so I can get neat effects by laying down colors on top of each other because it stays a little transparent. You end up needing to lay down a lot of “paint” to get opacity but that’s ok because it allows you to make more complex colors. That’s good, because things like skin aren’t a color. They’re chemical: they’re melanin in cells over blood vessels and muscle and skin is transparent. Even very dark skinned people have undertones. So when you build up paint this way you can capture undertones without ruining your painting. Which, I’m pretty sure, is how it works in oils. But it translates well to digital.

So at this point, painting your image is basically a calming adult coloring book. You lay down color, blend, check your reference, repeat. But a few things to keep in mind:

- Take note of the darkest and lightest areas of the image. Nothing should be lighter or darker than these areas. Nothing in the drawing above will be darker than her back because that’s the darkest area of the painting.

- See the trees and the forest. Sometimes a detail doesn’t make any sense until you’ve seen it in context. Trust your guide and your photo reference. But also make sure that you don’t get so stuck in the details that you can’t relate one area to another. A fold that goes through two areas should be consistent across those two areas, even if you painted them separately. An area might seem dark in comparison to what’s next to it, but it isn’t as dark as the darkest area of the image so don’t go whole hog. Keep it in context.

- Folds in clothing aren’t nonsensical. They are a result of the movement and weight of the fabric. Ergo, the shadows and highlights that create them should also make sense.

- If you’re having a hard time figuring out where the highlights and shadows are, make a copy of the reference image layer and desaturate in, then turn off the colored reference layer.

Lastly, I’m finding it helpful to keep the highlights from colored light on its own layer. I didn’t used to do this, I used to use the colored light as one of my highlight colors. But the truth is that most objects are shaded by more than one light source, and so I’ve decided to do all the shading as white light and then the green (which will eventually be from some kind of green magic.) is on a different layer. My reasoning for this is that it helps keep the integrity of the shading and it prevents the colors from bending too much and getting muddy. So if I add a green highlight and I don’t like it then it’s easy to remove. I don’t have a highlight and shading that’s now ruined by green because I’ve been using light flow brushes. So colored light on its own layer. How much of a highlight you give it entirely depends on how strong your light sources is and whatnot. So far I’m satisfied with just hitting the high points, but I may change that later on.

When you’re done painting the area, go ahead and erase all of the excess paint around the edges of it and clean it up. I like to leave the black outline as part of the image, but if you don’t want to do that you should turn it on and off as necessary while painting so you can make sure to fill in gaps and get clean lines between the areas of color.

So if you made it all the way down here, thanks for reading my ramble. :)