#i sketched while waiting for the bus lol

[corruptkpr]

fuck i forgot- lol Feathered Soul

So yeah- I just randomly doodled this while waiting for the bus. And i kept seeing this sketch in front of me and decided that i still wanted to color it... in fact, there is a small inside story connected with this between me and my lover. Despite the fact that this is a free-style idea, it originally came from our conversation and a random little rp in which Ange (my OC) gave their feather to Soul because he wanted wings lol Probably an appropriate legend for random drawing like this :> I guess in their mind the wings most likely look different

[sixrealmsbeneaththesea]

Quick Sydney sketch while studying references, grabbing food and waiting for the bus.

I just needed to do him something better. One more time. I’d still like him dressed more like Mullenkamp, but this has actual proportion when I stop to be…patient. Even though this is still super quick and dirty. But yeah lol.

Think too hard in confines of 8x11.5 paper too much lol.

[chiscribbs]

I found your Cloning Donnie idea and I was on my way to the bus. So~, out of both boredom and the thought not leaving my brain for- like- 2 hours, I started to draw out some part of the angst part.

Buuuuut, I don't know what they would talk about and I would like your help(if I am able to continue this) for what they should discuss...

Sooo~ would you be willing to help, or would you like it to be a surprise???? 👁👄👁

Asdfghjkl I'm flattered, thank you :'0

Also, I'm very sorry if I'm responding to this super late - I'm not in the habit of checking my inbox every day anymore and tumblr doesn't tell me when messages were sent asdfg.

Of course, I'd really love to see your personal interpretation of the scene! I realize that, without context, it could easily go a multitude of different ways and it's fun for me to see how other people's minds fill in the gaps. But if you want to know where my mind was at while drawing it, I'd be happy to talk a little bit about that, too. [Fair warning, tho: I'm not great at putting my thoughts into words? Which is generally why I opt to sketch them out instead. But I'll do my best and hopefully it'll make some sense lol.]

So - it's subject-to-change, depending on how the rest of the plot continues to work itself out in my brain, but for me - "Bad Feelings" Donnie opens up an opportunity to address some of Real Donnie's hidden fears/insecurities, the ones he doesn't like to acknowledge (hence the way the other Donnies react to this Donnie's presence, in particular.) Namely his struggles with relating his self-worth to usefulness and maybe how all the recent changes have likely been effecting him. Things that make him feel weak or less capable.

For instance: maybe he's having a hard time finding some stability now that all the constants in his life (save the big one, that being his family) have been challenged or taken away? Donnie's always been shown to have the hardest time adjusting to major changes, and they've been through a LOT of those lately (considering it's meant to take place after the movie). He doesn't often reach out or seek help in dealing with things, so I think it would be interesting to put him in a situation where that's really the only option. Leo has had similar struggles with self-worth and identity, as well as having to deal with the massive change of being assigned a leadership role, so these are things he can definitely relate to.

That's all I've really got at the moment. I'll leave it up to you to work out how they would go about discussing that and what the exact wording would be, if you decide to go this route at all. Regardless - I can't wait to see your version of the scene if/when you finish it! :>

[birdstooth]

Drawing MASTERCLASS

lol jk thought I’d show some of the process here in case your other favs aren’t online and u have a couple of min to waste while waiting for the bus

🎵Down once more to the dungeon of my black despair🎶

On the left, u have janky first draft, and on the right, u have less janky second draft😅. Depending on how much time I spent on draft 2, I might do a final cleaner version, and then then add colours :)

My hard limit for a doodle/comic is 3 drafts for reasons that I will go into below, but basically I find that if I try too hard, it triggers the perfectionist demon and then it’s not fun anymore lmaoo

For me, 2-3 drafts is the balance between making something I can look at without cringing, and still have fun drawing lines and shapes.

Also it’s ok to have a very very, objectively bad first draft. My brain is like Swiss cheese so if I spend too long trying to get something down on (virtual) paper by making it look nice, half the idea floats away before I can make a record of it.

So first of all, since this is the unofficial website for ppl with crippling anxiety (roll call! 🙋‍♀️), just thought I’d say: if u are on the fence about posting your [content] online, go for it!!

I used to look at all this really cool [content] (art, writing, photography w/e) and be like “wow, that’s some good content! I’ve got a long ways to go before my content can reach that standard!”.

Or sometimes, I would see amazing content with very few notes and think “whoa, if this extremely accurate recreation of the Mona Lisa made with used gum found under park benches has only 12 notes, it’s not really worth posting what I have, right?”

But then at some point I decided that it was easier (for me) to make stuff that was vaguely funny instead of “good”, so I stopped trying to draw the perfect shapes with the perfect shading, etc. and just went with like, the minimum accuracy required for an object to be recognizable lol.

I’m not saying don’t chase your dreams or whatever, but try not to force yourself into a style or content type that doesn’t suit you. I have a short attention span and a zillion ideas, so for me, it’s actually much more satisfying to make these goofy little doodles bc I can do quick sketches between procrastinating at work, or while I’m watching my dinner rotate in the microwave 🥲.

When I was in my “every drawing must be perfect” phase, I would spend hours on making sure the proportions were realistic, and the lines were clean, and spend days or weeks in a single piece. Some people are suited to this kind of work and have the patience to see it through, but for me it was very unsatisfying and sapped my motivation so I decided to be realistic about my abilities + the time I have available to improve my skills (I think this is very important bc u might have the patience and the work ethic to practice, practice, practice until you are at the top of your game, but if you have a job or school or other obligations, it might not fit into your schedule) and do a kind of compromise.

Yeah, I’m still envious of other people’s content and no, I don’t think my content is the BEST I can do, but it’s a balance between doing what I like and getting satisfaction out of it. Sometimes, if you push yourself too hard, you end up hating what was supposed to be a hobby, u know?

[beltransadie]

A Chat Under the Haitang Tree

Happy New Year! I've been practicing on my samsung tab for the whole past week and I wanted to show the culmination of what I've made with this new years art. This is based off of chapter 58 from 2HA where ranwan spent the entire night chatting under the haitang tree for the new years. I'm still not as good on this tab compared to how I am with the Huion, but I think this is pretty satisfactory. The approach is more painterlike in comparison. I do not have the patience for lineart (I've tried) on this, so it's mostly draw loose then clear it up.

The Journey to This Illustration

What else have I done while practicing? Honestly, most of them are ranwan art. Animatic making had made me proficient in drawing Chu Wanning and Mo Ran gahahaha and they're both fun to draw anyway.

At first, I wasn't used to drawing on a samsung tablet, so most of what I've done are doodles. I also spent majority of my time traveling (like since I got home which was an 8 hour bus ride, I had to go travel again for Christmas and back again, and then the day after I had to accompany my mom for another outing).

Day 1 (12/22)

Here, I slept for 4 or so hours, and find myself having to leave at 5AM. I managed to catch a bus ride home (where, unfortunately, one of my friends weren't able to ride because they waited at the wrong stop), and overall the ride was pretty chill. I spent most of my time chatting with my cousin, sleeping, and drawing. Here's some of what I did during the time. Most of it are Chu Wanning because I feel really comfortable drawing him.

Day 2 (12/23)

I didn't have any place I have to travel to yet, so I went out of the house to draw at a cafe. I still didn't feel comfortable coloring so there's none yet >_<

Day 3 (12/24)

Most of Day 3 was spent outside too coz I had to travel again to visit my grandparents. It was also when I started Yuwu (it has been chill so far, and I'm leisurely enjoying it). I didn't draw anything on the tablet.

Day 4 (12/25)

Back to the drawing grind here. I figured it was about time I try out coloring and I did two! While I had to commute again early morning, the whole of my afternoon was spent chilling at home. The notable stuff I did on the tab is this cute animation of Wanning finding a tiny Mo Ran in his gift, and two colored pieces.

The one on the top right I think was a failed attempt. The colors didn't turn out as well as I wanted, and concluded that it was probably because of the background (which was pure white). I changed it to gray and colored like I usually did, and I think it turned out really well.

Day 5 (12/26)

I had to go out and travel again. Most of the stuff I did during this day were doodles.

Day 6, 7, and 8 (12/27-29)

Gonna compile coz I think most of what I did were at cafes and it all blurs together.

Here's where I actually start getting into coloring. The first thing I colored was the bottom left one. I really like how curly the lineart of Mo Ran's hair is, and the individual groups of hair on Wanning's ponytail flow together. Next is the middle left one, which was just me thinking about how ranwan had 8+ years together idk lol. I drew Mo Ran as a midget there, I didn't know he was actually almost the same height as Wanning by book 1 (179 vs 181) so that was uhh lol.

The sketches for the top left and the right image I did the same day, but the coloring for the right image I did last. Top left uses some rejected designs I had back when I was reading 2HA. I thought it'd be a fun creative exercise if I derive myself of official character designs, and create designs based on how I imagined them while reading the book. (That's something worth making a post about.) Specifically, the designs are post-story. That was also when I started rendering a bit.

It was at the right sketch when I thought I could try a rendering a bit more. Like clean up the lines a bit. Still the same process.

(This wasn't done on the Samsung tablet, but here's the height comparison). Mengmeng and 1.0 are a bit out of proportion i know lol.

Day 9 and 10

All of it leads up to the new years drawing at the top. It was tricky trying to render the two characters, because I had to tilt my pen a certain way so the lines made won't be too broad. I spent day 9 doing the sketch and the rough color, spending time on the background too and Day 10 on rendering the characters and polishing the background.

The app I use (Infinite painter) has a built-in playback function which is pretty neat because I always forget to record my drawing process. I ended up changing the background a couple times because I misread the actual scene lol. But yeah here's the process.

Overall, drawing on this tablet is more painterly compared to how I color on PC gahaha. So many brushes to choose from, and almost no keyboard input >_< it's a bit tedious coz I like having my brushes binded on keyboard, and here I have to move my hand around on screen and sometimes I end up pressing the shortcut for the undo button. But yeah, I think I can make more colored art outside now. Learning to get used on this is fun.

Happy new year, guys!!

[jamieroxxartist]

Here are some sketch ideas of potential Paintings I drew out a few years ago while waiting for a Bus in the Greyhound Bus Terminal in Chicago, while the “Blizzard of the Century” raged outside closing down Freeways and such. lol For a minute I didn’t know if I would ever get out of there lol. (I did after a day or so) But at the time, I passed the waiting time drawing and drinking coffee (Greyhound was cool and had free coffee for all of us stranded, sad riders)

But yep all my paintings that you see start out as a sketch. I used to go to a lot of events, and one of the Fantastic things about these events is there normally are Swag Bags (guys if you don’t know, ALWAYS give your swag bag to your date. The Gals love them and they usually have a lot of gal stuff in them anyhow. Anyway it’s the Gentleman thing to do. Trust me, there is nothing more silly-looking than some guy splashed out to the nines mincing around a party with his little goody bag *eyeroll* ) *edit sorry folks if that attitude is less than PC and all, but in my defense I am an old man... idk I'm sorry, guys feel free to mince all you want and keep your swag bags. There is nothing wrong if you happen to be a mincer. :)

I would always do this but if they had a sketch book in them (that was another thing that usually gets thrown in them too) anyhow if they had a little sketch book in them, I would keep those.

Anyhow now I literally have boxes and boxes of these filled with painting idea sketches. All waiting to become paintings. I mean there's more than a good chance that that won't happen but you never know.

[nerdynuala]

Reading all the hogwarts aus is my therapy and what I have to propose is spicy 😏.... Kinda lol

One day, long after their graduation and teaching at the school Hange found her old uniform from the last year and decides to surprise Levi. So she goes to his office and drapes herself on the desk - tie unbound, enough buttons undone, skirt too small - waiting for him. Once she hears the door open she starts: "oh professor ackerman, I'm here for detention. I've been a very naughty girl and you simply must punish me...." In the most seductive voice she can muster, not noticing that behind Levi stand Eren and Jean, black eyed and cuts all over because they got into a fight and Levi had to step in. The man just wanted to grab something from his office before heading to the headmaster, not getting exposed like that haha.

Eren and Jean are wide eyed, jaws to the flour and clearly traumatised because their most eccentric teacher can't possibly stand in the office of their most uptight teacher, looking like that saying that stuff and bathed for once??

Levi gives them back the point he confiscated and double that and promising to forget the incident if they keep their bloody mouths shut.

Next day everyone and their mother knows, barely escaped an article on the daily prophet and eren and Jean spend quite some time cleaning the toilets and shoving hippogryph dung...

Lol this was too long but you're such a rad person with hcs I just had to share. All the love to the vets own meme-mom❤️!!!

ASHHJakdjfk I'm wheezing anon are you a disguised genius? I loved this!

You know what? While reading the first part I clearly pictured in my mind @wingz-of-shit 's drawing of hot Hange in her uniform lol it fits so perfectly with this hc!

Let me contribute with a sketch:

Also, I can't help but put the vets into this so here's some more hcs xD

Moblit is mortified, the students know he's been friends with Hange since their school years and he helped her behaving properly. They ask him questions he really doesn't want to answer. He just yells "back to mandrakes please, back to mandrakes!" and considers misplacing his earmuffs so he can just pass out.

Mike is delighted. He laughs every time he sees Levi. He literally throws himself on the floor and rolls over. He fetched Peeves and made up a song for Hange and Levi with him. Now all the students know the song, but only Peeves dares to sing it in front of Levi.

Nanaba tries not to laugh in their faces. She really tries. She even reprimanded Mike for consorting with Peeves. But she can't help it, every single time she sees Levi blushing she just bursts out laughing.

Erwin is the Headmaster. To say he's not pleased is an understatement. He's happy his friends are together, he's unhappy Mike is taunting him to give him the money of their bet, he's pissed at the Daily Prophet trying to make a fuss out of this, and he's extremely annoyed at the Howlers that keep coming from parents ("Headmaster Smith! Once this School was UK's pride, now the place is sinking and rotting and it's all your fault!").

He's also extremely embarassed around Levi and Hange. The meeting in his office was hell for him.

"So, uhm, I'm happy you guys are...having fun together. But I really must ask you to keep your, ahem, kinkiness to yourselves"

Levi just stared at the floor, ears flushed. While Hange, well, Hange was Hange.

"Oh Erwin come on, these are hormonal teens, you know perfectly well they go around snogging each other all the time and think they'll be traumatized by me wearing an old school uniform?"

Erwin was horrified. "We'll talk about that. And I'll have you know discipline is strict here, they don't do that in my school!"

"You really don't want to have a look at the Marauder's Map then. Ignorance is bliss, Erwin".

[killemwithkawaii]

The dude probably constantly naps in class all the time. I mean de actually does it in game. Not so fun with nightmares however.

[Refering to this post]

Places Sal falls asleep (and might wake up in a fright)-

>in class

>during tests

>in the library

>in the cafeteria

>in the principles office

>at the bus stop

>on the bus

>at the dinner table

>his living room couch

>other peoples living room couches

>on the floor while he's playing with gizmo

>in the treehouse when he's smoking pot with Larry

>in the shed while he's trying to decipher cult clues

>in Todds room while Todd infodumps about his latest invention

>while sitting and chatting with Mrs. Rosenberg or Mr. Addison

>on public benches

>while practicing guitar

>while playing video games

>in the bathtub

>in waiting rooms

>during therapy sessions

>at the doctors/ dentists office

>in movie theaters

>during steakouts

>in the holding cell after he's arrested (mass murder is exhausting)

>in court (and the courtroom sketch artist captures it)

>on the stand when the questions get repetitive and boring (also captured by the courtroom sketch artist)

>his prison cell (because there's nothing else to do)

>his grave (thanks Ash lol)

[sir-crocodile-smile]

Potion: An Elixir of Hurt/Comfort w/ Killer

I poured the ink into the concoction and it turned a lovely shade of jet black, much like the ink found in a Tattoo Shop AU! When you drink this, a few tattoos will surely bloom on your skin. They're temporary though so don't worry! They tend to last 5-7 days.

Hello @quirkyseastone​! Did I actually get this done in time? Technically no. It’s 15 minutes past midnight, but I’m really proud of this so I’m posting it anyway! Its suuuuuuuuuper long lol, it’s like a whole fanfiction.... this is what Killer does to me.

This surprisingly ended up being really emotional for me to write. I’ve recently lost someone very, very dear to me, and am actually planning to get some kind of memorial tattoo, much like the reader in this piece. So this ended up being very personal and quite self indulgent! I hope that you (and others) like it anyway. This hurt/comfort piece is heavy on the comfort lol. Congratulations on your milestone and thank you for organizing this lovely event!

“Tattooed Memories and New Beginnings” - Gender Neutral reader, Modern AU Tattoo Shop w/Killer

You could not have looked more out of place than you did right now, standing in the doorway of Victoria Punk Tattoos and Piercings. Everything about this place was intimidating as hell: black painted walls, a mural of a giant flaming skull on the wall, and there was even metal music being piped in through the speakers. The blue-haired man behind the front desk looked up at you when the bell above the shop door rang, and he gave you a confused expression. You obviously weren’t the kind of customer they were used to.

“Umm, are you lost?” The tattooed receptionist asked, looking a little worried for you.

“This is Victoria Punk, right? I’m [y/n], I have an appointment with Killer,” you replied. You had been messaging back and forth with Killer over Instagram for a few days discussing what kind of piece you wanted to commission from him, and he suggested you come to the parlor for a consultation and to see a few sketches. Your good friend Law recommended this place to you, as he got his tattoos done here by the owner, Kid. You trusted the doctor’s advice, but after looking at the different styles of the artists on their website, you liked Killer’s neat and crisp designs more than Kid’s. You had to admit, it made you a little nervous to be here.

“So you do…” the blue-haired man replied after checking the schedule. “Have a seat over there, Killer will be right with you.” You did so, looking around at the shop while you waited. God, it really was intimidating in here, maybe this was a bad idea… But just then a side door opened and out stepped a tall, muscular man with blonde hair down to his waist. He wore a cloth mask over the lower half of his face, but you could see a little bit of goatee peeking out. He scanned across the room, looking past you for a moment before his eyes snapped back to you and widened with surprise.

“[Y/n]?” He called tentatively, and you waved. You could see his eyebrows raise in surprise under his blonde bangs. Yep, you could tell that you weren’t the typical customer for these guys. They probably see other punks like them in here, or intimidating guys like Law. Still, the man composed himself quickly, approaching you and shaking your hand. “I’m Killer, good to meet you. Come have a seat at my station, and we’ll talk about the piece you want.” You shook his hand, offering him a smile, and followed him to take a seat at his station as he got out a sketchbook. “So this design, you said it’s a memorial?”

“Yes,” you replied, with a little sad sigh behind it. The loss still weighed on you. His sharp blue eyes flicked up at you, then softened.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he murmured. 

“Thanks… getting this tattoo means a lot to me.” You lowered your gaze, half out of nerves and half just from grief. “He had a lot of tattoos, and I can’t think of a better way to honor him.” It had almost been a half year since he passed, but remembering him was still hard sometimes. You were determined not to cry in this badass tattoo shop in front of a stranger.

“Then I’ll make sure it’s perfect,” Killer replied, the surprising softness in his voice catching you off guard. He leaned forward a little in his chair, flipping open his sketchbook and getting out a pencil. “You’ve given me some details of things you want to include, but if it’s okay, I’d like to learn more about him. It’ll help me come up with the right design for you.” 

You nodded, and began to talk about your lost loved one, the connection you had, and special memories you shared. Killer was an excellent listener, and incredibly easy to talk to. You couldn’t see half his face, but you could see the corners of his eyes crinkle with a smile when you told him about a particularly funny memory. Despite your best efforts, you still teared up when you thought of the most important connections you had. Killer was quick to grab you some tissues, moving his chair when he came back so that he was facing you at an angle instead of right ahead of you. You thought it was odd until you glanced up over his shoulder and saw one of the other artists walking a customer back from the waiting area. He was using his large frame to shield you from prying eyes while you cried. How sweet of him, you thought to yourself, feeling a little smile creep up on you despite your sniffling. 

Eventually, the time for the consultation came to an end when the other employee from the front desk shouted at Killer that he had 5 minutes until his next appointment. “Shit,” he swore, looking at the time on his phone. “Went way over time… Sorry, hope you didn’t have anything to rush to after this. I’ll send you some sketch ideas over Instagram in a few days. Go see Heat at the front desk so we can schedule you for your first sitting.”

“It’s fine, I’m not that busy today,” you replied, standing up and offering him a small smile. “Thank you for taking all this time out of your schedule for me, I’m sorry if I talked too much.”

“I don’t mind at all,” he said, then he looked you up and down quizzically. “[Y/n], will this be your first tattoo?” You grimaced and looked at your feet, a little embarrassed to admit this in front of a hunk who had a full left sleeve of tattoos and probably more.

“Yep…”

“Hmm…” Killer pondered this for a second, thumb absentmindedly messing with his goatee. “We’ll have to split it into more sessions, then. You probably can’t be under the needle as long as most people who want a big piece like this can.” You agreed, not knowing what kind of pain tolerance you would have for this, and set up your next appointment with the blue-haired man at the counter.

When you came back for your first appointment, you weren’t so intimidated by the building anymore, but you were quite nervous about getting your first tattoo. When Killer brought you back to his station, he raised an eyebrow at you.

“You didn’t bring anybody with you?” He asked.

“No? Was I supposed to?” 

“Most people bring someone with them when they get tattooed, especially if it’s their first. It helps to have someone to distract you from the pain,” he explained, tying his long hair back and pulling his bangs back with a headband and a hairclip. “And to have someone’s hand to squeeze when it hurts.” You nibbled on your bottom lip, now even more nervous than before. What were you going to do? Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Killer move to grab something out of a drawer, and he offered it to you. “Here. I was kinda worried this might happen, so I picked this up just in case.” Sitting on his broad palm was a stress ball, shaped like a cute cartoon cat. 

“Really? Thank you… that’s really sweet of you, Killer,” you said with a small smile as you took the stress ball from him and gave it a few test squeezes. Killer rubbed the back of his neck and looked away.

“Just doin my job, lookin out for my client, that’s all,” he muttered as he messed with some papers, though you could swear you could see a little bit of pink creeping up above where his mask ended below his eyes. He clears his throat and gets out a pair of black rubber gloves. “You ready, [y/n]?”

You took a deep breath, settling in the chair and gripping the squishy cat in your other hand. “Yeah. Let’s do this!” 

Good god, tattoos are painful, huh? But you were a champ about it, staying still as Killer inked your skin and you mangled the squishy cat in your hand. He asked you to talk to him through it, reassuring you that if you were distracted by telling him about your week, you would hurt less. You don’t know if it helped, but hearing his deep voice hum in response or ask another question so close to you made you feel warm inside. You only cried once, and that was when the needle hit a particularly sensitive spot. You dabbed at your eyes with the tissues Killer left out for you, and his soft voice soothed you with gentle words. At the end of the session, as he wrapped your shoulder and gave you instructions on how to care for your tattoo over the next few weeks, he got out his phone.

“Would you mind if I gave you my number? It’ll be easier to get in touch with me that way, and I want you to be able to text me if you have any questions about how to take care of it, or if something goes wrong,” he explained as you gathered your things to get up from the chair. 

“Sure,” you said, as you put his number in your phone. His eyes widened in surprise when you sent him a text with your name right away, to make sure you had typed in the right number. You try to give him back the cat stress ball, but he won’t take it.

“Nah, just keep it. You’ll need it for next time too,” he says, waving you away to go see Heat at the front desk. You looked back at him while you were scheduling your next session, and you thought you caught him staring at you as he quickly looked away, drumming his fingers on the back of a random chair.

Over a number of weeks, you returned to Victoria Punk to get more parts of your tattoo worked on by Killer, and you got to know him and the staff fairly well. You found out that Killer’s actually been friends with the owner, Kid, since they were little kids. Killer told you some stories about the stupid things they did as teenagers, and even some stupid things Kid did last weekend. All the staff came around to say hi when you were in, sometimes to Killer’s annoyance, and the one who liked to stir up the most trouble was always Kid. Killer would huff under his mask and shake his head whenever Kid poked fun at him, but the moment Kid started to tease you, usually about being friends with Law, Killer would grab a towel from his station and whip it at Kid’s head with force. You laughed along though, occasionally poking back at them when you got the chance. You went from being out of place to feeling like one of their own. 

You and Killer had started texting each other occasionally between appointments too. It started out as Killer just asking you how you were feeling, or you asking a question about cleaning your tattoo, but eventually you started talking about other things too. You started looking forward to seeing a text from him, wishing you saw him more often than every few weeks. You definitely knew you had a crush on him (based on how often you lost sleep overthinking the punctuation in his texts), but you wouldn’t mind just being friends with him and the rest of the team at Victoria Punk. After all, it was nice for you to have more friends as you were going through the process of grief. But every time your phone lit up, you hoped it was Killer on the other end. Every time you saw the little squishy cat he gave you, your heart fluttered. 

The day of your last appointment finally came. When you walked in the door, Kid greeted you without even turning to look at you.

“[Y/n]! Knew you’d be coming in today,” he said with a smirk, putting some new piercings in the display case.

“Oh? You get psychic powers, or does all the metal in your face intercept text messages now?” You joked with a sly smirk of your own, watching Kid’s eyes narrow to a grumpy glare.

“No, dummy,” he grumbled, but his scowl couldn’t hide the glint of mischief in his eyes. “It’s just that Kil dresses nicer on days you’re coming in.” He didn’t wait for a reply, he just gave your bewildered expression a smirk and left, heading to the back of the shop as Killer came out early. You looked him over, and damn, maybe Kid was right. Leather jacket, collared shirt with a nearly scandalous amount of buttons undone, and distressed jeans; thank god you were already sitting in the chair at his station because your knees may have given out when you saw his piercing blue eyes focused on you as he approached. 

“Hey, [y/n]!” He called, a smile in the sound of his voice. “Last session, yeah? Bet you can’t wait to see the finished piece. Let’s get started.” 

A couple hours later, you were staring at your new and completed tattoo in the mirror, tears in your eyes but not from pain. No, this whole process had built up your pain tolerance like no one’s business. You were on the verge of tears because of how lovely the finished piece turned out. It was the perfect memorial to your loved one, something that would make you feel like he was always with you. It was everything you wanted it to be. 

“Thank you, Killer,” you said, trying to talk around the lump in your throat. “It’s perfect.”

“I’m glad you like it. From what you’ve told me about him, he would have liked it too,” he said from his seat beside you. You nodded in agreement. He slid a box of tissues over to you. “Take your time. Let me know when you’re ready to get it wrapped.”

Later, when he was covering your tattoo, the atmosphere was different. His movements were tense, and there was awkward silence hanging in the air between you. Since the tattoo was finished, you didn’t have a reason to come see him anymore… but you didn’t want this to be the last time you saw Killer. Your heart jumped when he cleared his throat to break the silence. “So… got any plans this weekend?” Oh no. This weekend was the last thing you wanted to think about right now.

“Well, not really. I would normally, but…” Your voice trailed off nervously. Killer caught it.

“What do you mean?”

“... Well, my birthday’s this weekend,” you sighed reluctantly.

“I thought you said you didn’t have any plans, though,” Killer pondered with a tilt of his head. You had to look away from the soft yet intense gaze he had as he studied your expressions.

“I… I don’t. I don’t know what to do. I always celebrated my birthday with [lost loved one’s name],” you explained, picking at your fingernails nervously. You tried to keep your breathing even. “This is my first birthday without him.” You couldn’t think of celebrating your birthday without him, so you put off planning for it until the very last minute, and now it was too late to do anything. You lived pretty far from your family, so visiting them was probably not an option, and you found out that Law was pulling a double shift this weekend. You would probably spend your birthday in your apartment, alone, missing one of your favorite people that was now gone forever. 

“We can’t have that,” Killer said, suddenly snapping you out of your sad thoughts. “You’re not spending your birthday alone, especially not now that you’ve told me.” 

“Wh. What?” You blinked at him like a deer in the headlights.

“You like the kind of music we play in here, right? Well, us guys are going to a show this Saturday,” he said, gesturing to the rest of the team at Victoria Punk over his shoulder. “You should come with us. With me.” He drummed his fingers on the armrest of his chair nervously.

“I mean… I don’t wanna intrude on your ‘guys night’, you know?” You shrugged, feeling self-conscious at his invitation. You didn’t want him to invite you along just because he felt bad for you. You watched as he fished in the pocket of his leather jacket and produced two ticket stubs.

“You wouldn’t be, I… I wanted to invite you anyway,” he said, holding out one of the tickets to you. “Now that I know it's your birthday… If the concert’s not your thing, we could do something else, see a movie or something. I just… shit…” He stared at his shoes as a flush started to creep out from underneath his mask. It was the cutest damn thing you’ve ever seen.

“I wanna go to the concert with you, Killer,” you said, gently taking the ticket from his hand with a wide smile. His eyes snapped to you, kind of surprised, then he let out a half-assed chuckle followed by a very relieved sigh. You could swear that the fabric of his facemask was pulled in the shape of a smile, too.

The concert itself was intensely loud, crowded, but awesome. You could feel the bass in your chest as the music coursed through your veins, and as you watched the Victoria Punk team let loose, you forgot the sad feeling you woke up with this morning. Your loved one would have wanted you to spend your birthday happy, the way you always have when he was alive, not alone and sad. This wild concert was exactly what you needed. It’s almost like your loved one is telling you it’ll be alright.That even if they can’t be there with you, you won’t be alone. And that all you need to do to honor their memory and make them proud is to be happy. 

At some point, you got separated from the group for a little bit, only to immediately see a familiar mane of blonde hair making its way to you in a hurry.

“Sorry, went to grab a drink. Where’s everyone else?” Killer asked, leaning close to you and nearly shouting to be heard. You shrugged and shook your head, and saw Killer roll his eyes. He stood still for a second, then he took your hand in his. “Don’t want to you to get lost, especially if the others aren’t around.” He didn’t let go of your hand for the rest of the night, not even when you two went outside for some fresh air. 

“Ahhh, sweet oxygen!” You cheered, taking deep breaths of the cool night air. You turned to Killer with a smile. “This concert rules! I’m so glad you invited me, Killer.” He gently squeezed your hand, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles softly.

“I gotta get something from my truck real quick, you mind coming with?” He asked, a little nervousness in his voice. You nodded and let him lead you to his pickup truck. He reached into the passenger seat and pulled out a tupperware container, opening it to present it to you. Inside were a half dozen cute cupcakes. “Happy birthday, [y/n].”

“Killer, oh my god! Did you make these?” You asked, gasping in shock as you looked at the cute flower design made out of icing that sat on top of them. Killer simply nodded in reply. “Can I have one? Like right now?” Again, Killer nodded. You took one out and started to peel the wrapper eagerly, but paused. “Hey, you should have one too!” Killer hesitated, then picked one out for himself. You tried not to stare as he removed his mask for the first time, revealing an incredibly handsome face that made your heart stop. He tried not to make eye contact with you.

The two of you ate your delicious cupcakes in happy but nervous silence, only broken by you talking about how tasty these were and how thankful you were to Killer for surprising you with them. You both stole little glances at each other until Killer finally caught you staring. He took a swipe of icing off your cupcake and wiped it on your cheek.

“Don’t stare!” He scolded lightly. You gasped, wiping the icing from your cheek with a huff.

“How am I not supposed to stare at a handsome face like that?” You asked, and Killer choked on the cupcake in his mouth. By the time he recovered, his face was beet red, and he could barely look at you. You just gave him your biggest smile, watching the corner of his lips curve into a little smile. He looked at you softly as he leaned toward you, face still red but his eyes filled with confidence as he tipped your head to the side and kissed your cheek. He pulled away all too soon, licking a little bit of frosting off his lips as he gave you a cheeky smirk.

“Oops, looks like I missed a spot.”

“Maybe you’ll get it if you give it a second try,” you whispered breathlessly, and he leaned in once more.

“That so? I’m happy to try again… and again, and again, and again.”

[palbabor-writes]

I know you said you only might accept pregnancy requests depending on what it is so I wanted to try 😅 how about shigaraki and reader break up while she’s unknowingly pregnant with his child and he bumps into said child years later and connects the dots that it’s his? If you don’t like it feel free to ignore this request 😊

I liked this nonnie.

I am terrified that by saying that I’m going to be inundated with pregnancy HC’s, lol. But, this request I really leaned into. Plus, it’s more about a kid than a pregnancy. 

So, thank you for asking and letting me slip out of my comfort zone. It’s always good to do that every once in awhile and this ask was a great reminder of that.

It’s a bit melancholic, but I think it fits with Tomura, at least, in my mind.

Now, this is not in canon. This is not like, pre-war arc, or post-war arc. If anything, it’s more of an AU. I’d put Tomura in his late 20s to early 30s.  

warnings: none really, just some sweet, sweet interactions and mild angst 

Hestia Hestia, in Greek religion, is the goddess of the hearth, a daughter of Cronus and Rhea, and one of the 12 Olympian deities. When the gods Apollo and Poseidon became suitors for her hand, she swore to remain a maiden forever, and Zeus, the king of the gods, bestowed upon her the honor of presiding over all sacrifices. 

The shouting noise of children set his teeth on edge.

Toga had insisted that the bus stop by the school was the best place for the information exchange.

They won’t look for you there, she’d assured him. It’s like hiding in plain sight. Yeah, it’s patrolled, but it’s only an old security guard who does the rounds. Besides, he’s retired from the police force, she qualified, and was more like a lazy cat than an attentive scent hound.  

It’s the best place, really.

So, Shigaraki had made the long trek across Tokyo.

He kept to the shadows as he weaved his way through back alleys and streets. Although the dominance of the League had waned some over the years, he was still a wanted criminal, responsible for countless death and threats on hero society.

He was still the King of his slice of the underworld.

Besides, he reassured himself as he loitered by the bench under the bus stop, he could trust Toga.

She had improved in leaps and bounds as she came of age; deadlier, sleeker, more attuned to the ebbs and flows of the world around her. She wasn’t that girl who chattered about blood anymore.

Oh, she still held a strange fascination with the fluid. But she had more control over those impulses that drove her. If she said it was the best place, well, who was he to argue? Toga had been with him from the beginning, a vital ally. Hell, at this point she was close to being a friend.

Shigaraki is still musing when the ball taps its way to his feet.

It clatters against the pavement; the rubber shuttling it along the loose rocks and leaves. Unthinkingly, Shigaraki lifts his shoe to balance against its unbound movement, stilling its lulling bounces.

Must be from that schoolyard, he thinks, his red eyes flashing up at the low chain-link fence that separates the school grounds from the busy street.

There’s no child dashing their way to retrieve it, so he lets his gaze slip from the teeming masses of giggling youngsters. It’s a pretty blue. The ball looks new. Hardly a scuffed and battered thing.

He keeps it under his sole, toying with it, rolling it meditatively as he slips back into his thoughts.

“Hey! That’s mine!”

It’s a small voice that calls to him and he turns his head back to the fence, looking for the source.

It’s a girl.

She’s leaning against the metal, her hands clutching into the links, cocking her head inquisitively at him.

Her nose wrinkles at his silence, and she shouts another demand.

“Mister, that’s my ball. Toss it back.”

“Aren’t you supposed to say please?” Shigaraki taunts, his lips lifting in a quick grin. He’s not sure why he’s bothering to engage with this kid, but something about her plucky attitude resonates with him.

She leans away from the fence, that scowl deepening on her soft features.

“Aren’t grown ups not supposed to steal things?”

He laughs at her snark. He can’t help it. Oh, this kid’s fun.

Carefully slipping the ball into his hands, he moves closer to the fence. He can see her a little better now.

She’s still got that deep frown on her face and her dark hair is gleaming in the afternoon sun, some strands catching the light, reflecting a deep, auburn, hue. He’s just about to chuck the ball to her when he catches sight of her eyes.

They’re red.

Not that red eyes are unusual. There are plenty of people milling around Tokyo with them. But hers are different.

No, these eyes are like looking into a mirror for Shigaraki. They flint and glare with the same sheen as his own. It’s a prefect reflection.

His feet suddenly feel heavy, leaden, and he can’t lift his arms. Who is this child? Why does she-

“Ok, ok, mister. Can I please have my ball back? You’re still stealing it if you don’t, so I’m not apologizing for that. I might... if you give it back to me, cuz’ it’s my ball, not yours. And, stealing makes you a thief.”

She’s rolling those uncanny irises at his stiff form, and a huffing sigh escapes her small mouth.

“What’s your name?” Shigaraki asks, hands trembling over the rubber of the ball.

“Not supposed to tell that to strangers, mister.”

He smiles again, bemused. Well, he thinks begrudgingly, she’s a clever little thing. Whoever she is.

A sharp bell echoes across the yard and she turns her head at the sound, her dark hair tumbling around her shoulders.

“Here,” Shigaraki relents, gently flipping the ball over the fence, bouncing it to her feet.

“Thanks,” she murmurs, quickly snatching up her prize. Those red eyes of hers meet his own, and he can feel a low shiver echo up his spine. What’s up with this reaction? It almost feels visceral, like some sort of otherworldly pull on him.

“Sorry I called you a thief,” she apologizes, quickly bowing her head, ducking those eerie eyes from view.

He’s not sure what to say, so he continues to watch her. She doesn’t seem perturbed by this, opting to giggle at him as her little head lifts.

“You’re weird,” she assess, a smile finally spreading over her lips, her cheeks rounding and softening. 

Tch, she’s rude, but she’s also cute, Shigaraki thinks, snorting at her frankness.

She turns, dashing away from him, her dark hair flowing around her back as she goes.

Shigaraki shakes his head, trying to dislodge those lingering questions that keep floating to the back of his mind.

He’ll never see her again, he reasons, wandering back to the bus stop. Trying to tamp down the urge to look for her again, to pinpoint her from the other giggling and shouting children on the playground.

But he did see her again.

He comes back to the stop a few weeks later.

There’s no information pickup this time. There’s no real reason for him to even be on this side of town.

He just can’t get her out of his mind.

This little kid had shaken something within his psyche. He kept dreaming about her. Well, not her, really. No, there was someone else haunting his dreams.

He hasn’t thought about you in years.

But now? Now, he can’t get you out of his head. He even feels like he can feel you some nights, warm against his side. He sulks in the memories of the familiar touches that the two of you shared, the love that you’d pressed into him, so, so long ago.

He saw the girl in those moments. Resting in your arms as you looked up, your eyes bright against her dark head. The girl would laugh and run to him, those reflective red eyes shining with mirth. 

It was fucking strange.

He both hated, and loved, the repetitive nature of these illusions. They made him feel safe and warm, but they also chilled him to his very bones. It was unsettling.

Unsure what else to do, he’d back come to the bus stop.

It’s early afternoon. Close to the time he’d visited it before. He waits on the lonely bench, his hands pressed together and that strange tremble races through his veins.

This is stupid, he thinks, his eyes lowering from the sea of kids, all twisting and turning in a heap as they play. It’s an impossibility, really. The chances of that girl losing her ball again is minuscule. There’s no way he can call to her either. It’s a waste. He shouldn’t even be here.

He’s standing to leave, when that small voice reaches him.

“Oh! You’re back.”

His head whips around, his long white hair glowing against the sunlight.

There she is.

She’s gripping the fence again, and she’s staring right at him.

Shigaraki smiles. It’s a gentle lift and he can feel his heart tapping a rough tattoo against his ribs. He steps toward her, kneeling when he gets close, careful to not overstep his bounds.

He’s not wanting to startle her.

No, he’s wanting to talk with her. Maybe she’ll drop some kinda clue why he’s so drawn to her. Or maybe she’ll morph into any other child again. Plain, uninteresting. Slipping from that odd ghost that she’s become to his subconscious. 

He hopes it’s the latter. But part of him also longs for it to be the former.

She’ll hop to the fence around 3:15.

She looks for him now, used to the routine of his presence.

He told her to call him Tomura, and the name falling from her lips made his heart ache.

Tomura stopped by on Fridays. Careful to not stay too long, to not draw too much attention to himself.

At first, he’d sneak her little trinkets. 

A little plastic toy of his, one that he had since he was a kid. She’d squealed with delight and clutched it to her. He’d grinned at that, remembering how he’d once held onto the thick plastic himself. 

Once, he’d just plucked a nearby flower as he walked to the school, presenting it to her outreached grasp. He’d watched proudly as she tucked it behind her ear, the color glossy beside her hair.

She’s still a sassy little thing. But she’s softened a little, too. Her voice losing that early, untrusting, edge.

He didn’t ask her much. Sometimes they both just sat in silence as she sketched designs into the dirt. Sometimes he would listen to her chatter about her day. Her classmates, her teacher. Once, she’d even pressed something over the fence to him.

It was a drawing.

He’s not sure if it really was all that well done, or if it’s just his heavy bias toward her. But he loves the mix of color and lines. He’d asked who the people were.

One was her friend, Kenji. One was her teacher. One was him.

He’d pinned it to the wall in his room. Displaying it, flaunting the gift. He looked at it every morning, admiring her work.

He’s late one day, and she scolds him, her small arms draping over the fence.

“I didn’t think you were going to come,” she chatters, her red eyes lingering against his, the two colors casting back the same hue.

“Was running behind,” Tomura replies, leaning against the low concrete barrier, resting his back against the fence.

Her little hands reach for his hair, playing with the pearlescent tendrils, weaving some into knots and braids. 

He doesn’t mind.

“Hey, Tomura,” she says, working a tiny hairband into her creation, her voice curious.

“Hmm,” he hums, careful to not shift his head, not wanting to disrupt her hard work.

“You didn’t ask my name again. At least… not after that one day.”

“Do you want me to ask?” He queries, his pulse lifting.

He’d wanted to ask her again, but he didn’t want to startle her, to shatter these innocences that they shared.

“It’s Beryl,” she answers. She says it confidently, and he turns to face her.

She grins at him, wiggling one loose tooth playfully at his serious expression, trying to tug a laugh from him.

“Beryl?” he repeats, unable to keep that awed hush from his raspy tones. It’s a pretty name. It suits her, really. But it’s strange. It’s not Japanese. 

You hadn’t been Japanese. 

“That’s a good name,” he assures her. “But, it’s not… you don’t hear that name very often.”

“Yeah,” Beryl concedes, her vermillion eyes roving over his face. “My mom’s not from here.”

His nostrils flare at that.

He hasn’t asked her about her mother. He’s unsure if it’s a general disinterest on his part, or trepidation. He fears it’s the latter.

Gulping, he tilts his head at her, feeling that soft braid she’s plaited into his hair shifting.

“Who’s your mother?”

“Who is she? She’s my mom, silly.”

“No,” he pauses, ignoring that creeping tremor that’s working its way to the top of his skull, his skin prickling and cooling. “I mean…what’s her name?”

“Oh! Her name is-”

“Beryl! Beryl, it’s time to come inside.” A teacher is calling for her. 

Tomura startles away, drifting to his feet and pacing quickly back to the bus stop. He can’t help the snarl that etches its way across his lips. He’d been so close. So fucking close…

He chances a glance back at the fence and catches sight of Beryl. She’s dashing across the playground, her dark hair waving in the sun.

Japan is about to slip into summer. School will come to a close, moving into a long break. He won’t see her again for almost a month.

His heart sinks at that realization and he grits his teeth. Slipping his hands into his dark trench coat, he steps across the street, away from the bus stop, away from the little girl that’s feeling more and more like his own.

Edit: oh hey. so, i couldn’t stfu about this and created a sequel: Materfamilias 

hahaha & part iii

[dontcallmeroro]

Hi! I’m always curious about people’s Nick x Ziggy headcanons. Nick is obviously a piece of shit, but something about them (or the potential they had) is so intriguing to me. Do you have any headcanons? I love talking to people about this pairing since I write a lot for them.

omg yes absolutely, I had such high hopes for them after the second movie so part of me definitely still loves them together lol :'/

here are a couple I can think of on the spot:

ziggy is definitely English/history smart and nick is science/maths smart (he's good at everything let's be honest but that's his favourite) so they begin to tutor each other on their favourite topics - the shady side education system isn't exactly great so ziggy really needs it so she can get the hell outta shady side.

nick totally teaches ziggy to drive so she isn't dependent on him or forced to get the bus while he's off at college - she attempts to drive stick in his precious vintage car and promptly gets banned from driving any car other than her own after that.

nick loves everything about ziggy, her ferocity, her intelligence, the way she furrows her brow when she gets immersed in the newest Stephen King release, the way she bites her lip while pouring over math assignments while the slow beat of classic rock hums in the background... but his favourite thing is 100% her hair, if she ever feels the need to aggravate nick (which is usually 2x per week), she simply baits him by pretending to take scissors to her almost waist length hair and she's never seen him so determined to pry said scissors from her hands.

in the future nick and ziggy move far far away from their respective upbringings, first to a big city for college and to experience the true young adult experience. but after that they fall more towards a town a quick bus ride from the city, close to friends, away from family and prejudices, yet just as far away from college life, the antithesis of the picket fence trophy wife style life nick grew up with. ziggy works with children with trauma, possibly a play therapist or maybe even a family lawyer. nick teaches American literature at the closest university and has plenty of opportunities to write in his spare time. they get married young, not too young, it takes ziggy some time to even accept the idea of marriage and children, only with the help of years of therapy and self reflection does ziggy finally feel comfortable with such big commitments. nick proposes in college as more of a promise proposal, complete with a promise ring and a speech about wanting to spend forever with her and being totally okay with waiting for 50 years if that's when she's ready. ziggy proposes the second time, she's 24 and he's 25, she doesn't get down on one knee or give him a ring, instead she gives him a first edition copy of Carrie with her intimate annotations throughout, it's not the norm, it's very *them*. they marry in a tiny intimate gathering, only close friends, barely any family, an autumn wedding, beautiful leaves decorate the street, shining like ziggys hair as they catch the brief rays of sunshine. Down the line they have 2 daughters, Aurora and ophelia (rory n lia), aurora after nick loves of all things celestial (ziggy STARdust hmmm), and ophelia, despite the cliche, after ziggys secret love of Shakespeare and hamlet in particular. rory, despite her dad's love of astrology, is her mums mini me, complete with the flaming red wavy hair and witty commentary. her dad's eyes sit behind large circular glasses that neither ziggy or nick are quite sure the origin of, as neither wear glasses. she loves 70s music, films, sketching, reading, the colour yellow, and her cat dusty. lia has flowing dark hair that rivals her mums as it sits just under her waist, despite her namesake she is extremely perceptive, intelligent, and street smart, the least naive little girl ever seen. ziggy swears she sees a touch of Cindy in lia here and there, sometimes even thinking her sister is casually sat at the kitchen table when she's not yet had a few cups of coffee. at age 8 she lovingly, although a slightly bitter sweet act, names her puppy lucinda (cindy when she's not ripping up the newspaper), and the 2 are rarely seen without each other.

(I got nothing else sorry besties lol - also I'm English hence any colloquialisms or weird spellings, I also have zero energy to proof read this)

[silima]

Hey man I wanted to ask, i am beginner artist and I feel kinda discouraged because i have a smaller acc than I lot of artists, how do you feel like encouraged to draw more stuff about your fandom?(i really love your art and is so inspiring!)

thank u!! first of all, it's awesome that you've decided to start putting yourself out there!! i think motivation can be one of the hardest things to deal with when it comes to making art, & sometimes it feels like u either have it or u don't. but i think it's definitely possible to improve in some ways!

i think the most important rule of trying to motivate urself is, when motivation/inspiration hits you, DON’T WASTE IT. if you think to yourself, “hmm, it would be fun to draw right now… but it would be easier to keep scrolling on my phone” do your best to actually go draw!! i’m not gonna tell u to skip, like, ur homework for art (although i totally do that) bcz u should do ur homework. but when the urge hits u, don’t let it go!! u gotta ride that wave as far as it’ll take you.

obviously sometimes motivation will hit you at times when you’re in a situation where you totally can’t sit down and draw. like it’s 3am and you really should’ve been sleeping 5 hours ago, but u just got a super cool idea for a drawing or a comic or something. if that happens, i’m not saying to actually sit down & draw right then, but you absolutely should write your idea down while the idea is still fresh!! it’s easy to forget small things or even the whole idea if you wait for later. plus, when you revisit what you've written down, you might find yourself having ideas of how you could make it even better.

one thing that’s kind of unfortunate about making art is that, yeah, external motivation is a big part of motivating yourself to make art (at least it is for me). BUT you definitely don’t need to have thousands of followers to get nice feedback on your art. i mean, you could just show it to an irl friend who likes the show/book/etc that you’re drawing for too. hell, you could show it to ur mom

but to put yourself out there online, uhh my advice is to

make art that’s interesting in some way. (character interactions are often more interesting to ppl than solo character art, for one; uhh, comics are super super super fun although i personally felt intimidated by them at first; in general, trying to give ur audience some kind of emotional response to ur art--whether it's "aw so cute" or funny or angsty--is good.)

participate in fandom events (like ship weeks, big bangs, etc). at the very least, ur art gets reblogged to a bigger blog that can get you some exposure. and you might make some friends!

try to connect w/ other content creators—go compliment cool art! send nice asks! make gift art for fanfics u really like!

look for some fandom discords with nice ppl

post ur stuff on multiple social medias

i personally spent like 3 years on tumblr just kinda tossing my art into the void before i actually started gaining a significant amount of followers lol so i’m not exactly a social media guru but i think those are some good places to start.

also, NEVER BE DISCOURAGED BY UR OWN ART!!!!! sometimes it happens when you'll look at ur art and be like "holy bejeezus i suck at art" and like, it's inevitable that it happens occasionally, but u gotta avoid that as much as u possibly can. practice positive self-talk--be like "aw fuck yeah i love how i drew that hair" or smth to yourself. bad self-esteem will kill your motivation & your fun.

(it's worth keeping in mind that oftentimes, if u feel like ur art is "getting worse," that's literally just your eye for art developing and learning to recognize flaws that you're about to fix--a good sign, not a bad one. your hands will catch up to your eyes in time.)

oh and DONT be afraid of posting little sketches or unfinished doodles that arent that fancy...... thats something i struggle with lol i always feel like "if my art isnt perfectly cleaned up and shaded then whats the point :(" but whenever i see someone else's cute little sketch on my dash im always like omg thats so cool. doing this is also good because if you don't feel obligated to put tons and tons of effort into each piece, you'll have an easier time creating lots of art which ultimately helps u improve way faster

lastly i uhhh really strongly recommend against doing that thing that some beginner artists do where you're feeling insecure about your art and, in anticipation that people will hate it, you say something like "haha yeah i know it sucks" in the caption/tags to sort of insulate yourself from criticism. cuz like, most ppl are not little loser bitches who go around insulting random ppl's art, and besides if you do encounter people like that, u can just block em. more importantly, a lot of people do find such captions kind of off-putting/guilt-trippy, so it's bad for growing ur audience, and it's also harmful to you as well, because you're verbalizing your insecurities (& thus intensifying them). just own it. you don't need to apologize for "imperfect" art. it happens, & it's totally okay.

[failedaned]

I have a plan. I'm gonna go to the bathroom the beginning of every lunch and just chill there for a little while my friends get their food because if i don't come in with the i don't usually grab food and my friends usually grab me carrots since they know how much i love veggies- UHM anyway i won't eat in the mornings, just coffee or green tea. After school is the hardest for me, i always end up snacking i something. So I'll just take a shower and drink water and depending on my mom i will eat dinner or something small I'll probably eat just dinner the nights before my test so tomorrow I'll have just dinner but nothing else 👍. The only snacks i can have for now are veggies and fruits nothing more. for dinner will be majority veggies. So if i feel like binging, which is always gonna happen at the beginning and will be hard to control I'll eat celery and tomatoes and carrots (or/and) there can be other veggies too but no fruit because i dont want binge on something that can cause weight gain because if the sugar if you have too much but for the most part I'll control myself and not eat. At school if my friends say anything I'll eat fruits and veggies, I'll eat them first since I'm always the last one done anyway I'll just throw the rest away and they'll think it just because they already finished and it's not like u didn't eat anything (this will mostly be at break since i have that plan for lunch^) for distraction, i only have to find something for 4-7 because i lose appetite around 7 which is probably because i usually get ready for bed around that time and i don't eat before bed and my body is used to that routine so i don't eat. I could do homework, sketching, Plan out my outfits, clean, it has to be something more than just a movie because i like to eat while watching tv so my body will think about food so i need something else with that like scrolling through Pinterest/IG or watching something on my laptop too. I do have to study for my permit and my SAT so i will do that, ride my skateboard, play my guitar or violin (once i learn to tune the dang thing lol), self care stuff and that's al i can think of. (Djjeys my mom's being a selfish little mmph right now and yelling at my selfish but more likeable (not that I'm any better lol) little brother cussing and shit and it's literally making me shake with anxiety (every time and it's kind of annoying) like i really hate when she does this and then goes on acting like she's a good mother and good role model who loves and cares for her children blaming others for why they cuss and why they're so fucked up and acting all innocent and like a victim like my gosh if she weren't my motherwjejhe but she's the type of person, the type of personality that i hate, she's a homophobic judging little mmph...sometimes i can't stand her but it is what it is and also I'll be out of here soon enough, just gotta get my permit and i have a summer job already of course it doesn't start till summer but I'm hired just have to get my permit and permission to drive to work and have a reliable source of transportation lol I'll be using my mom's car since obviously i dont have one and she won't need it since it's a pretty late job and she doesn't go anywhere but i really can't wait to go it'll be hot but it'll be worth it, i might also get a second job since this one is a few time a month, when they have concerts. So I'll just take the bus to the other one.) (Oh also, since she's my mom i do gotta say i love her i just strongly dislike her personality and all that...she is one of the causes of my Ed anyway( actually she's the drop of my current relapse lol) Sorry for the rant lol but I WILL succeed and I WILL lose weight. I will be happy.

[visionsofus]

For your songfic, may I suggest Heart of Stone (Six)? Not all the lyrics are applicable, bc neither Wanda or Vision are Henry VIII (thank god lol), but the steadfast and enduring love and devotion that drives the song seems especially pertinent given that finale 😭. Or Simply the Best by Tina Turner? ❤️

hey anon! thank you so much for your requests ❤️

I’ve finished The Best by Tina Turner but I’m still working on the Heart of Stone prompt (please bear with me while I tear my heart out and put it back together because I wanna do the prompt justice) 

please enjoy!

wanda and vision’s mixtape | read this part on AO3 

synopsis: In which Wanda searches Edinburgh for Vision after she arrives late at their safehouse. When she discovers his energy signature floating around the city, she decides to follow the threads to their source. Along the journey she recalls the complications of their long-distance, secretive relationship but by the end recalls exactly why they sacrifice so much to be together.

Wanda was frantic as she hurried out of the airport. She’d been anticipating this trip for a month, her heart set on the two weeks Vision had managed to buy away from the compound. She’d planned out all the details to make sure she was on the right flight, that her fake passport was in order and that Nat was aware of her location if something went terribly wrong. Even her status as a fugitive was relatively under control thanks to some false information she’d planted over in Ohio last month. She’d left behind a trail of misleading clues that the Secretary of State and his team were lapping up eagerly, thinking they were getting closer to her capture for the first time in eighteen months.

Instead, here Wanda was halfway across the world having just landed at Edinburgh airport.

No matter how much she had planned things out, no matter the scope of her powers, nothing could have stopped the wave of snowfall that the UK had received in the last few days, coming to a head the previous night. She’d timed her flight to arrive, as they’d agreed, at 9pm at a predetermined destination in the city. To her dismay she’d found herself on a crowded red eye flight that had left 6 hours later when the runway had to be cleared of snow.

The worst part was that she’d had to sit there for those hours that dragged on for an eternity, knowing that at that very moment Vision would be waiting at the airbnb they’d rented out, alone. Wanda had no way to contact him, not with such short notice. Technology was too easy to track but it didn’t stop her longing to go and buy a cheap international sim from the technology stand at the airport and use it to just send one message. At this inclination Natasha’s voice had rung out in Wanda’s head, ‘the next time they catch you it’s as a war criminal, don’t give them a reason to decide you’re better off dead than locked up’.

  So it wasn’t worth the risk but it didn’t stop the sick feeling that grew in her stomach as she waited nervously to be let through passport control, then at the taxi stand and finally on the doorstep of the flat they had booked just off West Port.

It was early morning by the time she arrived, but the wintery sky was still hazy with the night’s darkness so she hoped that Vision might be waiting inside. The key box, which they’d been given a code to open from the host, was empty which further confirmed this conclusion. She rang the doorbell twice and waited. And waited and waited some more. There was no answer.

Wanda looked at the houses around her, streetlights reflecting their orange glows off of second story windowpanes. There were few lights on inside at this time of morning, but she still needed to be careful.

Leaving her only piece of luggage, a small carry-on bag that held the bare essentials of what she kept with her at all times these days, she looked up to the windows above her. Perhaps one of them would be open.

Wanda took a deep breath and let her power grow in her palms, red mist arcing out to push her from the ground. Her ascent was controlled and slow and she reached the windowsill with ease. It was just wide enough for her to grasp the waterpipe next to it and rest her feet on the sill. She froze when a light switched on next door and what sounded like a radio began to play, rather loudly considering the time of day. She used the music (it sounded like Tina Turner but she couldn’t be certain) to hide the distinct click that sounded from the window as she forced the lock open with her powers. Inside was quiet, all the lights were off, and Vision was not there.

“Vis?” Wanda called out nonetheless.

If he wasn’t here were could he be? Their general rule of thumb was that if one of them couldn’t make it to the predetermined location they had to wait 24 hours given it was safe to do so. It stood to reason that he’d follow the protocol this time, particularly given how long they were due to spend in Edinburgh and the months it had taken to concoct a believable excuse for why Vision wasn’t going to be in America.

Wanda returned to the window quickly and looked out over the limited view it gave of Edinburgh city and the castle rising up behind, providing a somewhat medieval backdrop. She raised her fingers to her forehead and took in her surroundings, focusing on the sound of early morning commuters from the main street, the sound of a ticking clock at her back, a car door closing down the road, and beyond it all she felt for Vision. Wanda hadn’t used the telepathic dimension of her powers in a while, or at least not as much as she had used to. They were a little rusty, making it hard to pinpoint precisely where Vision was but, when she opened her eyes something similar to an energy field could be seen gracing the cityscape before her. Certain structures stood out to her, outlined in a golden haze that couldn’t be anything but the mind stone calling to her.

Without hesitating Wanda vaulted out the window and hit the pavement below, her powers softening the landing. A flick of her hand sent her bag flying up through the open window.

Wanda grinned in anticipation and set off in the direction of the nearest golden glow, her boots hitting the cobbled streets one after the other. It had been freezing when she landed but as she ran through the slowly waking streets of Edinburgh Wanda removed her scarf and let it trail behind her.

The sun had not yet crested the horizon, but its light was turning the sky a nice lilac colour highlighted by the grey expanses of cloud hanging over the city. She briefly wondered whether it might snow today or if it was going to be too cold.

As Wanda rounded the corner onto the main street she nearly lost her footing on a stretch of dangerous black ice on the pavement only just catching herself on a nearby bus bench. She’d reached the first place Vision’s energy signature was calling her to, a small café down a wynd bordered on both sides by the back walls of town houses. The interior of the store was dark but a soft light glowed at the back where Wanda assumed the bakers had started their morning preparing the delicate pastries the café was known for.  

Wanda walked up to the window and looked at the ground where a strong outline of gold was hovering just above the icy cobble stones. Vision had been here recently, but he hadn’t gone inside, he’d just stood in the exact space she now hesitated at. They hadn’t had plans to meet here but it was a place they frequented any time they met up this side of the world.

Beyond the dark glass a few inches from her nose Wanda could see the cozy window seat that had become their spot. The café opened early and closed late at night so the pair had become frequent patrons what with Wanda sometimes kept up by recurring nightmares from her childhood and Vision who refused to let her be alone in those darkest hours.

Wanda’s fingertips brushed against the cold glass, leaving little prints in their wake at the tenderness of those memories, of her leaning against Vision, her hands clutching a warm cup while his arms encircled her waist. They’d sit there until the late hours when the store finally closed often talking about the other patrons in hushed tones. The students nursing late night coffees as they sat before computers, the lonely ones in new cities come to reclaim some control over the evening hours and, like them, the other insomniacs all drawn to the same place in this historic city. The conversation inevitably turned to their future and Wanda enjoyed thinking up ridiculous scenarios where they had a house in suburbia and didn’t have to run from anyone anymore. Things stayed lighthearted until they both grew too invested in the imaginary life they were discussing and returned back to wherever they were staying.

Wanda looked skywards again in the lightening morning and caught site of threads of gold leading her further down the street.

A mere block away was the only bookstore that stayed open 24 hours in the city. Some nights when the café had closed for the evening they had come here. The bell jangled, sharp in the serene silence of the store, as Wanda entered the maze-like stacks. Her fingers tingled in response to the energy signature that Vision had left here and she followed it to the back of the store which housed a few comfy armchairs and a long couch that they’d often set themselves up in for the night.

She could see it now as Vision’s energy shifted around her, as though it was responding to her presence. Could see him sitting across from her in her minds eye, a memory tucked away for safe keeping of when they’d last been in Edinburgh. He’d sat reading a book of poetry that he’d found amongst the stacks, his hands running gently across worn pages as he took in each word. She’d been perched at the other end of the couch, legs tucked beneath her and a sketch book resting on her knees as her pencil arced across the page creating the basis of his form, the curve of his shoulders, bend of his elbow, his legs crossed at the heal as he relaxed. Every now and then he’d glance up and she’d tilt the sketch away form his watchful eyes with a smile, or he’d take the moment to read out a particularly beautiful piece of poetry from the collection he was perusing.

Wanda had picked up drawing in the aftermath of the events in Sokovia and had been encouraged by Steve and Nat who had acted as her caretakers in those first few weeks after arriving in America. It had started as a simple activity to quiet her mind and draw what was happening within her, the first drawings hadn’t been good in skill or message, they’d started out dark. Vision didn’t know it, but she’d been drawing him for years, fascinated by trying to capture the feeling in his eyes or the gentle grace of his movement. Most of all this act of creation served to remind her that her hands could create beautiful things too, it didn’t all have to be death and destruction.

Wanda started as the energy rolled around her ankles before arcing back to the door. So, he wasn’t here either.

Out on the street gold threads guided her further up towards Edinburgh castle, the energy was growing stronger, and Wanda ran faster no longer just concerned about where Vision was but whether he was worried by her absence.

A small thread of energy darted off to the side and was so imperceptible that Wanda almost missed it. It was so weak that she knew there was no chance he’d be there but nonetheless she slowed down to a stop in front of a small newspaper stand that was being set up for the day. It was one of those metal domes that folded out to reveal the magazines and papers within. The elderly gentleman behind the counter gave her a warm smile as Wanda turned to the magazines, the cogs in her brain turning.

Of course he’d tried to stop here. Before they had brought Natasha into the picture, Wanda had communicated with Vision through the missed connections pages of local newspapers and gossip magazines. They’d leave each other a note, usually encoded so only they would understand it, detailing a time and place for their next meeting or what magazine they were going to put their next message in. In hindsight Wanda smiled at the memory but at the time she had been something of a mess. She’d come to rely on Vision for so much in the year they had spent living together, their first home. Being torn away from each other the way they were had been difficult, and the challenge of meeting each other in safe places for both of them had weighed down their evolving relationship. She wondered what might have happened if they’d been given the time they needed.

The owner of the stand was twirling the dial of a small radio moving from static to static until he found the radio station he wanted. To Wanda’s surprise, it was Tina Turner once more:

Each time you leave me I start losing control.

You’re walking away with my heart and my soul.

Wanda realised she was wasting time and hurriedly thanked the man before turning on her heel and starting down the street again. From here the incline grew but she hung onto the knowledge that when she eventually reached the thread’s end, Vision would be there waiting for her. Another lyric from Tina Turner’s song fluttered around her head as her chest burned from the running.

I can feel you even when I’m alone.

It was true that she always carried him with her when they were apart, but it was never the same as being with him in person. Nothing could beat that.

Wanda hadn’t realised but, whether from the intensity of the moment, or the cold, little tears had started to trickle down her face, blow away by the brisk wind.

The energy was growing stronger.

In your heart I see the star of every night and every day.

She ran faster, leaping up some steps two at a time and spinning around the corner.

In your eyes I get lost.

The gates to the public entrance to the castle tour were yet to open but Wanda wasn’t about to let a bit of steel stop her from getting to where Vision was. She did a quick 360 to make sure that she was alone before pushing off the ground with her feet and a jolt of power. She was up on the nearest rooftop and past the entrance in moments. Running around corners and up steps she felt like the threads were pulling her up towards him. She finally reached the top section of the castle – the battlements.

Just as long as I’m here in your arms

That was when she caught sight of him, the energy grew stronger until it was so bright, she might as well have been looking at the sun. For one horrifying moment as she waited for the light to clear she feared she had imagined it all. As fear seized her heart, she slowed down a bit, gasping a little at the exertion.

I could be in no better place

There he was, looking out over Edinburgh’s fading night lights in the early morning. He turned around in surprise, immediately glamouring his appearance before he caught sight of who was there.

“Wanda,” he whispered, the illusion dropping instantaneously as she stepped towards him.

“I’m sorry,” she said so quietly that she was worried he might not hear her, “my flight got cancelled.”

He reached her in a few large strides and wrapped his arms around her waist, squeezing her close to him. Wanda led out a shaky breath that was somewhere between a sigh of relief and a sob she’d been holding in since that morning. She buried her face in his shoulder relishing in having him here before her at last.

“I know, I know,” he whispered into her hair. “I figured you’d been held up with all the cancelled flights from Heathrow.”

They held each other for a few moments longer, swaying back and forth a little.

“How did you know where I was?” Vision asked pulling back a bit and brushing Wanda’s hair over her shoulder so he could cup her cheek, his eyes searching her face as though not quite believing that she was here, before him.

“I’d always find you,” Wanda said before laughing softly, “I can feel you even when I am alone.”

Vision tilted his head at the abrupt change in her tone, but Wanda couldn’t help it. It was impossible not to be happy as she stood there, atop Edinburgh castle in his arms halfway around the world from all of their problems.

“Well, I’m glad you found me.”

They stood there watching the sun rise, colouring the clouds in soft hues of lilac and lavender. Vision sighed in contentment, his chin resting on her shoulder from where he stood at her back, arms wrapped around her and holding him warmly to him. It wasn’t until sounds of the morning rush in the city below began to reach them that Wanda pulled away to look at him.

“I don’t suppose you’d mind if we spend the day in bed? I need to sleep off last night’s flight and recover a bit,”

“Of course not, my love,” he said raising her hand and kissing it. “You rest, I’ll pop out to get something for you for breakfast.”

Wanda sighed in happiness as they started to walk down the hill together. “I got lucky y’know.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I have my perfect synthezoid partner willing to go and get me breakfast in bed despite the fact that I basically stood him up.”

Vision chuckled, swinging their hands back and forth together. “Not quite what happened, but I suppose you could say I am simply the best,” he said nonchalantly waving a hand.

“You caught me! You should have told me you knew the song before I tried to use it as a romantic line,” Wanda mockingly scolded.

“I’ll always catch you,” Vision replied, pulling her closer as they emerged after the eventful night into the city welcoming them home together at last.  

[jamieroxxartist]

Here are some sketch ideas of potential Paintings I drew out a few years ago while waiting for a Bus in the Greyhound Bus Terminal in Chicago, while the "Blizzard of the Century" raged outside closing down Freeways and such.  lol For a minute I didn't know if I would ever get out of there lol. (I did after a day or so) But at the time, I passed the waiting time drawing and drinking coffee (Greyhound was cool and had free coffee for all of us stranded, sad riders) But yep all my paintings that you see start out as a sketch.  I used to go to a lot of events, and one of the Fantastic things about these events is there normally are Swag Bags (guys if you don't know, ALWAYS give your swag bag to your date.  The Gals love them and they usually have a lot of gal stuff in them anyhow.  Anyway it's the Gentleman thing to do.  Trust me, there is nothing more silly-looking than some guy splashed out to the nines mincing around a party with his little goody bag *eyeroll* ) I would always do this but if they had a sketch book in them (that was another thing that usually gets thrown in them too) anyhow if they had a little sketch book in them, I would keep those.  I literally have boxes and boxes of these filled with painting ideas.

[nerdynuala]

i hc that mike is the best but also worst person to go perfume shopping with

Omg anon you don't know how true this is!

Let me explain: since I was a child I've had a very sensitive sense of smell, sometimes it's cool, some others is a curse, especially to other people lol so yeah, as a fellow person with a very sensitive nose, I hereby declare your Headcanon is very VERY true.

Okay let me contribute with some Vets Headcanons:

Erwin always drags Mike along to choose a perfume for himself. He doesn't mind spending the whole day like this, but Mike probably prohibited Erwin from trying to choose a perfume after he said he wanted to buy an Axe deodorant. He was like: "Don't you dare, Erwin. Our friendship ends right here and now if you go around smelling like a hormonal fuckboy and hurting my nose for that matter".

"I want something that makes me smell like a powerful and charming guy but doesn't scare people off. Can you find one?"

"Say no more, dude"

And Erwin just tags along, watching as Mike smells each perfume and goes "mmh" and "eeew" and "meh" and "fuck".

Levi takes Mike to judge cleaning products instead. He doesn't have much patience with him, but he really wants his cleaning products to be "Mike-approved", as the group says. He knows Mike can judge the quality of products just by the smell.

"Oi Mike what about this one? Looks good"

"Here let me smell" he snatches the spray from his hands.

"Hell no, Levi I thought you had better taste. Not Mike-approved. Definitely not Mike-approved".

Nanaba has to bear with him because she loves burning incense in their room but she needs him to choose a "suitable fragrance". They literally spend hours there. She just sits on the floor and asks "are you done, love?" every five minutes and cheers loudly when he yells "Mike-approved".

Hange doesn't give a damn. Instead, she'd pick just the most random stuff on purpose to piss Mike off. She bought an Axe deodorant once, she doesn't like it, but she points it at Mike to threaten him whenever he annoys her. Moblit is like "Squad Leader please let Mike-san alone", the poor guy needs some rest from these two.

Some sketches I did while waiting for the bus and while on the bus until I got motion sickness lol