#maybe finish some fanart between school work

[welcometogrouchland]

[kittysimp-daycareauart]

Here, have a sassy Dorito! lol.

But in all seriousness.. I am not stratified with what I’ve gotten done during my spring break. Now I couldn’t really upload for two days because I had a sleepover with my cousin, so I’m being nice to myself and excusing my lack of working on my projects those days. But. I still feel like I could’ve done more the other days. I have to go back to school tomorrow and I’m in the last stretch of the school year, so I’m going to have to be SOL focused. I don’t actually need to pass a lot of my SOLs this year, but obviously I still want to regardless. Though I do have to make extra sure my grades are good enough to pass because they’re not looking the best right now to be honest… But anyways!..

I really wanna finish that music video project for my main DCA AU and the RadioStaic projects I’ve been working on, so, I will deactivate as much time as possible to those projects specifically. Though knowing me, I’m most likely gonna doodle a million things in between breaks from those. I will finish them though, I promise that to myself. But essentially, I will probably seem like I’ve up and died for a while besides for maybe the occasional post about me sharing some sketches I did in my sketch book at school or somethin’. Nothing major though for a while until I finish those projects.

Well, I’ve said all I needed to.. I think? Thank you to the people who actually reads this, and thank you to the people who reads this and cares. I appreciate it more then I can express though simple text. I hope you enjoy the TSaMs Eclipse fanart (No one could ever convince me he’s not a sassy Dorito).

Have a good- wherever time it is for you!

[rarepairronpa]

forgetful

“Do I… know you from somewhere?” - First meeting between Ryouko and Mikan, post-canon. Except... it's not really a first meeting, is it? [Dangan WLWeek day 4: Memory Loss/Ship With A Blasian Headcanon.]

Ryoumiki for the 4th day of @danggirlronpa 's WLWeek, this is another one that's super short (and was originally even shorter) but despite wanting to write ryoumiki for this day from the start, the words for it didn't flow as easily as I was hoping. Well! It's okay, I managed to get it done even if it's on the short side. The idea of this is it's a post canon AU where Junko lives and gets memory erased again into Ryouko. Both Mikan and Ryouko are working at FF and this is their first re-meeting. Ryouko, is more being monitored as she works there to make sure she doesn't turn into Junko again, and Mikan is in a different department, also being monitored along with her other classmates. Thats, uh. Not super clear from the actual work, but I guess the setting is immaterial to the feelings I wanted to convey. Also- this all was totally inspired by @princescar 's fanart of FF ryoumiki, now that I actually write it out.

The other idea I had for this prompt was a chapter 3 rewrite in a "Ryouko in SDR2 AU" where Mikan gets her memories back, but Ryouko remains forgetful, but uh. The scope of that was too big to do in the amount of time I had, since I heard about WLWeek a little late this year. So! Whoops! Maybe eventually I'll do that idea anyway. It could definitely be a fun one. And more Ryoumiki is always a win.

Also. The blasian headcanon is very minor in this, but it is there? If just barely. This one just was not cooperating with me at all. I wanted to do a lot more with both prompts but it was really difficult for me for some reason. Even now it's not... really what I wanted from this prompt, but. Sigh. It's probably fine, right? Even if I think it's mediocre compared to my other works for this week, I still managed to do it, which is a lot better than high school me who would start these ship weeks and then never finish them... cough.

And anyway, tomorrow's work is my favorite for the week that I've written, soooo. Maybe it balances out. (Look forward to that!)

[thehaemanthus]

20 questions for writers

tagged by @whatishowedyouinthedark. Getting to this, what, like a week late? Time has existed to have meaning for me, alas.

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 31

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

546,355. Goddamn, how did that happen?

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly ACOTAR, occasionally Red Rising. There are some smaller fandoms that I've dipped my toes in. When I started out, it was PJO fic.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? All ACOTAR fics!

lay yourself out, pick yourself up

live once (once is enough) FUCK YEAH MY OC KIDDOS

Our Savaged Souls

Haves and Have Nots (a collab fic with some lovely friends)

to take, to worship

5. Do you respond to comments?

I'm bad about responding to comments. I really try to do a "thanks for reading and commenting!" because as I commenter I like that interaction with the author. But lately I haven't been unless there's a question/interesting observation I'd like to engage with. I'm sure it doesn't feel that way to the commenter, but when I say the same thing (thanks for reading!) it starts to feel rote.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

The Second Son. Our Savaged Souls is an angsty fic, but it has a happy ending lol

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Almost all of the one-shots in live once (once is enough) are fluffy kid fics. Does that count? If not, perhaps miracles, set in the same universe

8. Do you get hate on fics?

eh, not really? I've gotten one or two "I don't like this" type of comments. I wouldn't classify it as hate, just annoyance

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Occasionally. I can't sit down and churn it out. Usually it's an idea that marinates in my brain for a long time, the emotions and the feelings setting in, before I can put it into words.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Nope, but I'm not ideologically opposed lol. Just haven't had the inspiration

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

I'm pretty sure I haven't

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Someone volunteered, but I don't know if it actually happened.

I do have fanart for the live once (once is enough) kids!

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes!!! Gotta love the writing circles. The lovely @mmvalentine also helped with OSS.

14. What is your all-time favorite ship?

Bellarke from The 100. Feysand is good, and there's a lot to play around with in that sandbox. But man, Bellarke is just on another tier. The fanfic that came out of than fandom is also absolutely stunning.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

oof, everything lol. I have some Red Rising fics that have gone stale, also an old one for The 100. I have the best of intentions to write The Illyrian Trials and all the other stories I have in mind for the live once (once is enough) universe, but I don't know if I ever will.

16. What are your writing strengths?

idk bro. Maybe dialogue? Can someone else tell me this, haha?

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

plot lol. I know the structures, I can feel the beats, but I'm bad at sitting down myself and plotting something out. And is it bad if I say prose, too? Sometimes I feel like I'm pulling teeth for some good prose because all I want are long dialogues.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

YES always

19. First fandom you wrote for?

WELL. Technically it was Stuart Little for a 3rd grade school assignment. Then in 4th grade, again for a school assignment, I wrote Warriors fanfic (the books about the cats). Actual intentional fic was an unpublished Jily attempt, first published fanfiction was PJO

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

Probably a toss up between The Second Son and Our Savaged Souls. I don't think The Second Son is my best writing, but there is a lot of me in there and it was a journey to complete. Our Savaged Souls was not planned in the same way, it just kind of happened. It happened pretty smoothly for a fic that was written mostly in one google doc lol.

i apologize, I gotta do the lazy thing and say "tagging whoever wants to be tagged" i feel like everyone has been tagged in this already because I'm so late!

[koszmarnybudyn]

Dndads spoilers for episode 23!!!!!

I made doodles and im gonna use them for evil.

So much happened so there is a lot of text. Why do these episodes always happen when i have school work?! They all have fidget cubes (they are so neurodivergent my god). All members of my family inerupted me in the tensest moments how dare they. Normal was so good?!? And the doodler?!? The Hermie reveal was somehow not the craziest thing, and he dropped charakter and his voice changed?!! I just wanted some sexy confident poison ivy stuff but we got angst. Im so glad we got to see the original dads. This is my favorite episode like ever. And the paralleals between Lark saying they have to kill the dodler and Normal saying they gotta save him?!? And Jodie and Scam are together? And Scam was on the dads team?! And honestly Grant is a goddamn mess (Terry does have issueas but he holds the title of the most stable one). Link deserves to set boundries!!!! And Normal too!!! He feels like a dissapointed and like his whole family hates him!!!! He finally snaped it was so good!!!!! This whole episode was great!!! I cant wait for the fanfic!!!! And the fanart!!!! So GOOOOOOOODDDD!!!!! i felt kinda meh about the last one so this was such a good change. And Barry was always a dickhead even to his mother, which is expected but honestly i might just hate him more than willy (dont get me wrong i hate willy, but he is more scary evil where as barry is shithead gaslighter evil). Will i already have a finished piece today maybe. If i could animate i so would, escpecially the doodler reveal of what it fears and wants. Were getting back home soon (probablly)!!!!! I wanna make comics but i also want a transcript to do that.

[gofancyninjaworld]

two kingdoms

I haven’t wanted to write about this, but I guess I may as well.  When it comes to a work of fiction, there are two very separate magesteriums.

The first is that of the creator. If you're a creator of an original work, especially of a work that you want to sell then you have a basic responsibility to do things that help your story and get rid of things that don't help your story, no matter how nice they are.

If the yellow rectangle is the total set of all the things one could write/draw/edit as a creator, then the categories of helpful and not helpful can be represented as two smaller rectangles. What is in which category is one known only to yourself.

I think that ongoing serial works do pose a particular problem for writers in that it’s a living work that’ll inevitably develop further as it continues being written. A particular case in point has been One-Punch Man. While the story has long since been planned out, its realization has definitely evolved, and goodness knows that ONE and Murata have never hesitated to get rid of even the sweetest things if they don’t feel that they’re earning their keep. Sometimes it causes readers some anguish, but there’s nothing to be gained from not penning the best story possible.That's how you actually make a living at creative works: every letter penned, every line drawn, every note staved must contribute usefully.

The second magesterium is that of fans: people who read, watch, listen, and respond to that work in some way. Here's what fan works are responsible for: enjoy/make the things that make you go yes, avoid those that make you go no and what you do with maybe is your business. If the grey box is all the possible fan responses (yup, everything -- the critiques, the fanfics, the cosplays, fanarts, role plays, headcanons, ships, the lot), the three basic categories are contained so:

The most important thing is that there is no overlap between what fans are responsible for and what creators are responsible for.  Not a damn thing. You’re really emotionally invested in the work? You have no stake. You see the creator online? No stake. They’ve talked to you? No stake. You know them in real life? No stake. They’re your best friend? No damn stake. Equally, it’s a pretty immature creator who goes out to give aggro to readers/viewers/listeners over how they respond, but thankfully, that’s a rapidly self-correcting problem.

It’s not the writer’s responsibility to write something that you find comfortable, edifying, satisfying, or even agree with. What the story needs is what the writer has to consider, and those might include elements that you don’t like but work in the context of the story (and vice versa, there may be things you love but would derail the story if the writer put them in). Of course, no one owes a creator a living: with all the great work out there, not supporting works you consider duds with your time, money, or attention is good for you. This isn’t high school, and you’re not being obligated to read Macbeth for English: you don’t have to finish shit that doesn’t do it for you, even if it once did.

Anyway, where am I going with this?

1. Writers owe it to themselves to tell the best stories they can.

2. Fans owe it to themselves to enjoy what they do, including interpretive, derivative, parodic, and satirical responses to a work.

3. Writers don’t owe fans explanations, justifications, or changes to their works.

4. Fans don’t owe writers a living. Life’s too short to buy/read/follow shit that doesn’t do it for you.

[fish-bowl-2]

5 6 11 n 16

:]

5. Something you see in fics a lot and love Little petty bickering between Eddy and Edd <3 wtf is their problem? <3 I also dig how a good portion of fics I've come across kind of settle their interpretation of the show sometime inbetween the 90s and early 2000's. I've grown to be very fascinated with the concept of Y2k "period pieces" (that sounds so weird to say, even as someone who was significantly too young to actually "experience" that decade).

6. Something you see in art a lot and love The genre of "Edd crying" fanart I'M KIDDING I'M KIDDING (I do kind of love it sorry it is a little funny. Maybe we should chill a little though and give him some sleepytime tea instead or smth) Being serious now: I love the variety of styles people depict the characters. From those who master recreating Antonucci's art style (serious kudos to you and it always looks so stellar) to people who find ways to creatively interpret them in their own style. It is all just really fun!

11. If you're a writer or artist, what fic or piece of art are you proud of making? I'm still pretty happy with You Know I Should Be Leaving Soon. I had a lot of fun working on it, and all the wonderful responses I got were really touching (apologies for not getting back to them immediately, I've been meaning to address them in the notes of a new fic when I get around to working on that). I have an a few unfinished drawings lying around that I also like, but also I need to goddamn finish them. I hate executive function in combination with school fml.

16. A tiny detail in canon that you want more people to appreciate Edd really likes excuses to dress up and act. I mean, all the Eds do, but Edd always appears very enthusiastic to take on the role of explainer, doctor, teacher, anything that makes him out as the most professional person in the room. It is absolutely extra, but in that kind of endearing way when a kid gets excited about something they are interested in. I love it when he uses any little thing as an excuse to bring out heavy-duty scientific/medical equipment even when it is something like pulling a quarter from the sidewalk lmao.

[h0n3yk1tt3n]

4 7 11

4. What is the plot bunny you've been carrying around the longest? Optional bonus question: do you ever wonder why you haven't written it and experience deep existential dread?

Jeremy's freshman year bisexuality crisis... those first two chapters are still on ao3 but gods the progress I lost... maybe one day I'll dig up the scraps I could salvage and piece it together. It actually inspired another user (whose name escapes me, but they did ask if they could write it in that comment section) to write a fic entitled "sophomore year" way back in 2018 so it's kind of funny how the spiritual successor got completed while the original died.

7. Tell us about the plot for the first fanfic you ever wrote.

Technically the first one was this self-insert youtuber thing when I was 13 that was highly wattpad-coded, but I didn't finish it and I was physically writing it on paper and didn't share it to the internet (or anyone. For good reason.) Like, I needed to be kidnapped bc [redacted youtubers] thought I was keeping "government secrets" but really it was just fanart of them bc i was a ✨️#fangirl lol✨️ It made. No sense. But I was 13 so of course it didn't.

As for the first one I posted, it was started a few weeks after I got into bmc - like I hadn't even listened to all the songs yet, I was banking off of boyfs fanart, animatics, the wiki synopsis, and then LATER the script when I got to the Halloween portion. It needlessly erased the fact that Jeremy was crushing on Christine and that she'd "known him since seventh grade" via AGTIKBI. Like she had just moved and Jeremy was trying (and failing) to project his feelings for Michael onto her bc he lied abt wanting to join the play "because of his crush" and just.. made up the name bc haha theres not a Christine Canigula at this school. And then he goes to rehearsal and Mr. Reyes is like "lol new student this is christine canigula" and jer is all "oh shit shes real and Michael is supposed to think i have a crush on her GUESS I HAVE TO GO FOR IT NOW."

It's like... not quiiite the Christine erasure that I thought it was now that i think abt it, but it was still needlessly wishy-washy about her importance to the story. It was basically "Be More Chill but Jeremy got squipped trying to get with Christine specifically to get over Michael" which is like,, prime 2017 cringefail bc I started it when I was 15. It was,, stupid.

Though admittedly it had some fun ideas. Like ACTUALLY SEEING HALLOWEEN THROUGH JENNAS POV VIA A VLOG AND GIVING HER SHIT TO DO PRIOR TO THE PITIFUL CHILDREN!!! I POPPED OFF THERE IDC!!!

11. What's something neat you've learned while doing research for something you were writing? Also, how much do you worry about research in general?

This is actually recent bc of smth I wanted to do with Tales From The Lagniappe!! So in L4D2 the military calls the Infected "Whiskey Delta" as code for "Walking Dead" (despite them not being dead but not the point.) And in The Sacrifice comic that bridges the gap between the first and second game, they call the Survivors "Tango Mikes." I didn't know what the "TM" could've been code for so I looked it up and it's in reference to Typhoid Mary, who as far as I can tell is the first (known) asymptomatic carrier of anything ever???

She was a cook for hire and most of the families she worked for mysteriously got typhoid fever bc she had it in her gallbladder and didn't practice proper hygiene while cooking (it was the 1900s so it was like, weird but not weird weird). She was quarantined for like 30 collective years throughout her life and,, knowing the lethality of the Green Flu and that the L4D military nicknamed the Survivors after her brings an even darker spin on their view on carriers, as if it wasn't dark enough that they (spoilers) later resorted to killing carriers instead of just imprisoning them.

[ivyruins]

cold nights and warm hugs | poly nightonion

a/n: I promised a nightonionmc au a while ago and id never lie to you folk !!! honestly, I can't see a relationship between nightowl and onion (considering their fight in his route) but maybe if mc is there they can bring Peace to their Lives. literally no plot, just three people coming home from each's ever changing lives to each other's constant.

also, check out this AMAZING FANART OF NIGHTOWL AND ONION I SAW THIS WHILST WRITING AND MY MOTIVATION TO FINISH IT SKYROCKETED . give them some love !! [my icon is also their art!!].

You stumbled into your small apartment, letting the heavy door shut itself behind you. Leaning against it, you hugged yourself. Clothes damp and clinging onto your skin, you were absolutely freezing. It didn't help how the air conditioner was the first thing that welcomed you home. You silently wished you had brought an umbrella with you that morning.

To be fair, your weather app didn't say anything about it raining. Per se. This morning's conversation plays at the back of your eyelids like a movie when you shut your eyes, trying to bring yourself warmth as you rubbed your forearms.

.

Your demanding job started at six in the morning, and no reasonable person who had school at eight would wake up that early and risk losing what few minutes of sleep they had. Yet here they were, your boyfriends sitting at the dining table in front of you, hair disheveled after having just got out of bed after you.

Nightowl is swaying by the coffee machine trying to sneak a cup for himself. Though you knew with Onion there there was no chance he would be able to. You also knew they would both immediately go back to bed anyway. It was always like that, and no matter how many times you'd tell them to just stay in bed, and not wake up to see you off work, they'd still be there. Awake at six, just to accompany you.

"My heart can't handle imagining you having sad, lonely breakfasts!" Nightowl had said dramatically. Your other lover rolling his eyes, but you could tell he agreed. "It's alright," he had said. Reminded you. "Its worth it."

A sleepy smile finds its way onto your face, finding the juxtaposition between you, who was fully in formal wear and your boyfriends, who were still in their pajamas under the dim light of the dining room amusing. Onion was on his phone, and if you knew him and his routines, he would be reading the forecast.

"Bring your umbrella today," he says, confirming your little theory. You scoffed playfully.

"It won't rain today, I checked the weather," you exclaimed, proud that you had read it before him. He wasn't having it, though.

"Fifty percent chance of rain is still fifty percent chance of rain,"

"And fifty percent chance of," Nightowl pauses as he slides beside you, handing you a cup of coffee and pressing a kiss to your cheek. You feel his chapped lips, and see the furrow of his eyebrows as he thought of a word, "not rain."

"Sun?" you suggested, and he snaps his fingers. Seeing him like this reminds you of the first time you and him had that drinking game through video call. He acted drunk when he was deprived of sleep.

"Exactly. Sun," he grins, laced with drowsiness, "besides, what kind of loser is afraid of getting a little wet?"

Onion, ever so used to the two of your antics, sighs. He knew the two of you well, though, and he could've convinced you. But maybe for his own entertainment, or to satiate Nightowl's sleepy theories about the weather, he lets it go.

But now you were grimly regretting it.

You take your shoes off, socks drenched. You wanted to cry. It was a long day.

The moment you had arrived at work, your desk was piled. Papers and emails you had to answer by that day dumped by a co worker that was on sick leave, and having decided to finish all the work you had found out you were late for your meeting. Only to find out you had (embarrassingly) walked into the wrong meeting -- and missed yours. You had left work after getting an earful from your boss and was met with a downpour and no way home besides walking because apparently you had forgotten your wallet and couldn't call a cab home was the cherry on top of your shitty day.

You hear a laptop close. Shit, you didn't know anyone was home. Silently, you prayed it was Nightowl. He would at least be lenient. He had a soft spot for you, and you knew if he saw you in that state he'd help you and hide the fact you had came home like that from Onion. But if it was the latter?

You knew you were in for the I told you so lecture. Any other day would have been completely fine. You would have easily laughed it off, shrug and say you'll listen to him next time and brush it off; but today was not.

Prayers unheard, the person you least hoped to be there makes his presence known, walking out from behind the wall that connects the hallway you could stay there drenched in rain that you could've avoided. You didn't want to hear his chiding today.

Eyes to the ground, you hear his footsteps fade and fuck, that hurts. You knew he was disappointed but hearing him walk away like that without even greeting you hurt a lot. Your eyes glossed over. You messed up, didn't you? Shit, how the hell were you going to fix this?

Before you could let yourself cry, a towel draped over you.

Looking up, you can see your boyfriend's gaze on you piercing through his glasses. If looks could kill, your death wouldn't be a mystery. His eyes casted down and met yours, and you could see that he was holding himself back from berating you, and you were grateful for that. He frowned, brows furrowed. He wasn't even trying to hide the concern. You fight the urge to grab his face. To tell him to stop giving you that look. Instead, you bite your lip and look back down.

Carefully, he dries you. Or tries his best to at least. You were absolutely soaked, the towel did nothing but remove the recent moisture that hadn't seeped into your clothes. He calls your name gently, yet you remain avoiding his gaze, face burning. An apology was on the tip of your tongue. He was waiting for it, fuck. Why can't you just say it? You knew he-

He kisses your forehead.

He kisses your forehead, and that was all it took for you to crumple. Like an overflowing dam, you burst into tears, and he holds you close. He stops drying, letting you fall into the comfort of his gray hoodie. He doesn't care about the fact that you were leaving a puddle on the floor, or was sharing the rain on your clothes with him. He just cradles you, rubbing your arms for warmth and comfort. And for a while he lets you cry yourself out.

"Come on," he whispers after a moment, leading you towards the bathroom where you could hear running water. "You'll get sick if you stand there for too long. I prepared a bath for you,"

He leaves you with a final kiss on the top of your damp head, and when he shuts the door, you hear the front door open. Hear your boyfriend sigh. And you could only assume that Nightowl had came home in a similar condition as you.

You smile to yourself, laughing softly. Onion really has his work cut out for him.

.

You step out of your shared bedroom and head to the kitchen, where Nightowl - who you knew was also fresh out of the shower by the way his hair was damp, and the faint smell of the shampoo all three of you shared hung in the air like air freshener - was hanging his chin on Onion's shoulder as the latter cooked, telling him about his mundane day.

The sight warmed your heart. It was rare to find them not at each other's throat (either seriously, or because that was just their love language), so whenever it happened you always try to savor the moment as much as you can.

The serenity of the kitchen brings you a sense of peace. The soft humming of the fridge and the cackling of the fire from the stove helping you forget about the day you had. Your lovers stand in the kitchen, voices soft as they talk about everything and nothing to pass the time, waiting for the food to cook. You noticed Nightowl was wearing one of Onion's spare hoodie, the latter in a simple white shirt. You didn't wonder why he wasn't wearing his own -- you were the one who was wearing it. The rain continues to fall, washing out the grime and bad luck the windy morning brought. You let yourself relax at their presence.

Domesticity wasn't something you experienced often. The three of you were different, and the only thing you had in common was love for the blooming panic web novel. You talked about it, sometimes. How if you never read it, your lives would have never clashed. How, realistically, you never had any reason to cross paths with each other if it weren't for the text scraper story and the mysterious link to the server.

Onion was a computer science student, and he was rarely outdoors besides going to the library. He dedicated his time studying, being a great role model for his younger siblings in contrast to Nightowl, who was the life of the party; loud, obnoxious, and he loved fiercely. He saw love in grand gestures, public displays of affection, declaring how he loved the two of you every morning when you wake and every night before bed. Whilst your other boyfriend shows it subtly. Quiet strokes of your hair, driving hours away multiple times a week just because Nightowl's favorite takeout place was on the other side of town, murmurs of how proud he was when you try your best.

It was truly a miracle how you three came to be. But perhaps it was a story for another time.

"Hey hey," Nightowl makes his way to wrap himself behind you, "I heard you had a bad day at work, sorry about that cutie," frowning, he places a kiss on your exposed shoulder blade. "Ah... I guess I should also apologize for telling you not to bring an umbrella, huh?" he laughs sheepishly, and when you see Onion grip the spoon a little tighter, he buries his face into your shoulder.

"You better,"

"I already did!" he whined, and you laugh. The sound making both your lovers smile, "but seriously, I'm sorry, cutie. I really should've... listened to Onion. Fuck I can't believe I just said that,"

"You can call me next time, if you need someone to pick you up," Onion says, turning the stove off as he chooses to ignore what Nightowl said. Before the latter could interrupt, he continues, "and that goes to you, too."

The reply satisfies him, and he goes to help prepare the food, "I at least bought some snacks on the way home," he chirps, bubbly as usual.

"Did you? or did you enter a convenience store to shelter from the rain and felt guilty for leaving empty handed?" You chuckle at their banter, walking over to help your blonde boyfriend with the food before he could spill them in his mock anger.

"Guys," you warned playfully, taking the plate from his hands. Nightowl presses a kiss onto your cheeks as you grabbed it, thanking you silently, "Come on, I'm starving,"

That was enough to have them stop, and silently, you all prepared dinner together.

It was surprising how it had become a routine at this point. There were times when one of you couldn't come home for dinner in time and every time that happens you would wait for them. There was never a time you had dinner alone; it was always the three of you. And you had never planned that either. It had become a silent agreement ever since your relationship started.

"I call dibs on the movie!" Nightowl beams, placing the food on the coffee table. It was a Friday, and usually the three of you would settle on a movie to watch during dinner. It was one of those plans you had in lieu of going out because you knew none of you were up to it after a day of work and school, but also thought doing nothing would be a waste of the weekend.

He had chosen the movie the week before, but you didn't say anything. And if Onion remembered -- which he usually does, it's hard for him to forget anything -- he doesn't say anything either. Letting him bounce towards the couch and sink in the right side, remote in hand as he browses the romance category on Netflix.

"C'mere, cutie! help me pick!" he says, arms open for you to slide next to him. And you do, letting him hold you.

Onion joins by your left a moment later, snacks Nightowl bought out of guilt in tow. He settles beside you, arms snaking around your waist, "Anything but Encanto again, please. We don't need you belting into songs in the middle of the movie,"

"He's a good singer," you quip, and Onion looks at you with an unamused look as if that was the problem he wanted to avoid. You remember the last time you had movie night and put Encanto on (for the fourth time), the livelier of the two dancing and singing with the stamina of five horses all over the living room and eventually passing out before the movie even ended

"That's not on Netflix idiot," Nightowl sticks his tongue out, and your boyfriend rolls his eyes. The exchange was playful, and if someone told you that was possible back when you were still talking in the server, you would have laughed in disbelief.

Nightowl eventually settles on a Ghibli movie and sinks back into the couch, leaning into your shoulder as the opening scenes play. The light reflects in his eyes, and you could see the blue skies in them.

You sigh, letting yourself relax as well. Onion reaches over to pass the snacks over to your boyfriend and he lingers, hands coming up to rake his fingers in his hair. You hear Nightowl sigh as he leans in.

Opposites attract, was what you used to believe. But when you looked at the three of you, you knew that statement wasn't always true.

He eventually retracts his hand back and settles on intertwining his fingers with yours. You let him.

There, sandwiched between your lovers, you let yourself relax and forget about the day.

Outside, the rain continues to pour.

[apocalypticgargoyle]

I read the edgy!karl, I’ve just finished reading the alt!dream, WHEN IS GEORGE GONNA BE NEXT 😩😩

*cracks knuckles* the hcs that everyone has provided me with has hella prepped me and I'm ready. this is dedicated to 🍭 anon, whose fanart always steals my entire heart. i love u babe

𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐌𝐄. ᶤ 𝐩𝐮𝐧𝐤!𝐠𝐧𝐟

± pairings: punk!Georgenotfound x fm!reader

± word count: ~3300

± warnings: smut (18+), language, tattoo work, sadism, pain kink (if you squint), domination, mentions of needles, asphyxiation

song recommendation: Cent Fois by Alice et Moi

George’s mind wandered to his curiosity of the shop across from his tattoo parlor; bright neon signs advertising the local psychic. It was a stark contrast to the dark, wet city housing the businesses. Each night he locked up, he found himself standing on the other edge of the street, staring at the signs and draperies peeking from behind the glass windows and considering shedding his skeptical nature just for one night.

While your business was alluring in and of itself, his true draw to the place came after he had spotted you moving into the apartments above. Your clean appearance completely juxtaposed the business you ran. In his opinion, all natural healers and psychics were born scam artists only focused on the quickest way to pinch a penny.

Yet day after day, he found himself having to tear his eyes from your business just to get home or he would actually venture inside. He was rather subtle about his fascination when it came to his co-workers and regular customers, but each day he prayed you would wander in, requesting some kind of tattoo in a place hidden from outside eyes.

A place he’d like to see again in a less professional setting.

You flipped the textbook page after finishing your paragraph, highlighting a date you were looking for before leaning towards your notebook and scribbling down the fact. You gnawed on the end of your pen absent-mindedly, positive you still didn’t know what your professor had been rattling off about in class a few hours prior. Your sights drifted up to the incense burning across the store from you, the stick on its last few centimeters of wood as the smoke went stale.

You chew on the inside of your cheek, debating if you should light another or wait until morning. You capped your marker and stretched your back, the bell over the door letting out a telling chime as a man peeked in.

You leaned over the counter, closing your books. “Good evening! Welcome to After Life. Can I help you find anything?” You rambled, your mind flashing to the sheet of paper tucked into the frame of your bathroom mirror so you didn’t forget the basics of customer service.

The man stepped further into your view, stuffing his fists in his jean pockets as he walked closer in a cautious motion. His dark t-shirt advertised a band you had vaguely heard of, but couldn’t think of a song even if your life depended on it. What really drew your attention were his tattooed arms; branches from a grand tree twisting every which direction to peek out from beneath his sleeves; bright floral designs and litters of birds decorating the dark wood limbs. You bit back a smile at the small mushroom tattoo near his wrist that seemed to be out of place.

The laces of his Chuck Taylors grazed the floor before he was standing in the middle of your store, looking around briefly. “I actually co-own the parlor across the street. I realized I never welcomed you officially,” he stated, hints of nervousness reflecting in his tone. His accent was calming and husky from the season change.

At the mention of the tattooist across the street, your memory flashed to the various walks of life that found themselves in your store after getting work done. You also thought of the fact that you had seen the man before you break up fights in the street stretching between your properties. The tall muscular people seemed to have no effect on him as he’d pull them apart like school children on the playground.

You pushed your books further to the side. “Oh yeah, that’s right! I should have come over and introduced myself, so don’t worry about it,” you eased, swatting the air of his comment.

He chuckled softly before reality seemed to snap into his head, making him step forward and extend a hand to you. “I’m George, by the way,” he introduced. You took his hand, muttering your own name and hoping your attention span would hold for long enough that he would be entered into your long-term memory.

His hand was calloused in yours, something that you wondered came with the job or if he was some kind of carpenter in a past life of his. You gently pulled his hand closer to you, slipping your hold out of his to look at his palm. He tittered nervously, peering at the flesh with you. Your finger traced along the mounts in his hand, finding Jupiter to be the most prominent. “That checks out,” you mumbled to yourself, nodding softly.

His eyebrows perked up. “What? Am… Am I gonna meet a tall dark stranger and take a trip across the sea?” He joked, making you smile as you looked at his Sun line.

“I didn’t peg you as an Outlander fan,” you chided.

His brows flattened for a moment, chewing the inside of his lip and playing with his snake bite piercings. You found it hard to look away from him. “Honestly, I wasn’t. A girl I was fooling around with really liked it. I don’t know���” he trailed off, making you giggle.

Your nail grazed along his heart line. “You guys were just fooling around?” You quirked, eyes meeting his. His expression narrowed smugly as if urging you to continue. “Your heart line begins below your index finger. You’re not the fooling around type.” He let out a snort. “You fall in love easily too.”

He sighed with a slight sparkle in his eyes as he looked at you. You couldn’t tell if he was amazed or mocking you again. “Well, yeah. That’s…” He paused with a swallow, biting back a grin as if he was uncomfortable, but didn’t retract his hand from you. “... That’s why we’re not anymore,” he admitted. He leaned his elbows on the counter as you sat in your chair. “What else does it say?”

Your lips curled into a soft smirk, his curious eyes trailing over your face as if to watch your brain work. “You have a fire element hand which indicates that you’re confident and passionate. Maybe a bit cocky sometimes,” you teased, making him chuckle with you. You could feel his eyes on you, sending heat to your cheeks as you tried not to focus on the mount of Venus under your touch.

You wanted to ask him about his sexual indulgences, mainly because of the prevalence of Venus in his palm. “You have a mount in Jupiter, which means you’re a natural leader, and rather dominant.” You looked up at him again, watching as he bit back a smirk, seemingly understanding the subtle innuendos behind your statements.

George seemed to have some kind of effect on you, your thoughts clouding with the idea of what his snake bites would feel like against your lips. He smelled like cigarette smoke, but there was no discoloration to his skin to suggest he was the one smoking. He watched you through the hair threatening to dangle over his eyes, his gaze hinting at an attraction he had for you below his collected form. “Go on,” he murmured, voice soft and wispy as the space between the two of you seemed to warm.

You made a conscious effort to keep your sultry thoughts at bay as your thumb brushed over the area you had been avoiding telling him about. “You’re driven by desire,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper. “You’re… very in touch with your sexuality and you thrive on your indulgences.”

You couldn’t help but meet his eyes, the dark irises swimming with some kind of cocky smugness at what you had just told him. He pulled away from you, gently standing up. Part of you wished the counter between the two of you would vanish just so you could be pressed up against George at the mercy of his driven mind. “I feel it's only fair I tattoo you now,” he quipped, making your eyebrows raise. Your confidence shriveled yet you swore you wouldn’t let him know that fact.

You chewed on your lip, looking up at him with a hint of suspicion. “Oh, I’ve never been tattooed,” you avowed, voice carrying the slightest bit of your coaxing nature.

He smirked. “I’ll take care of you, I promise,” he cajoled, teeth playing at his piercings again as you were sure he was already undressing you with his eyes. “You read me, I’d like to do the same.”

And how could you refuse such an appealing offer?

You leaned back on your elbows, your skin sticking to the leather chair beneath you as you watched him pull back his hair, elastic band dangling from his white teeth. Despite securing back his locks, bits of his bangs still hung over his forehead. You liked the interior of his parlor, maybe because it was only the two of you.

George began to fill small caps of dark ink. “I think you should get some crystals in here,” you teased, making him smirk. “I could hook you up.”

“What, like a salt lamp?” He joked, pulling on a pair of dark plastic gloves.

You snorted, lying back and looking up at the ceiling. “It might be good. Lighten the place up a bit.” George swiveled his chair closer to you muttering some kind of line about only getting them from you, but his words fell silent on your ears as his hand pushed up your shirt. You were silently thanking whatever divine force above for swaying you towards slinkier lingerie earlier that morning.

You knew he could see the lacy edges of your bra by the way his eyes nonchalantly flashed up to you before laying out his template on your ribs. You could feel hints of his warm breath against your skin as he studied it. “You can look at it if you want,” he stated.

You shook your head, wanting him close to you as long as he could be. “I trust you,” you muttered, your eyes meeting his again. His tongue pressed against his cheek as he struggled not to smile at your statement. He had promised to cover a small scar for you and by the way he explained it, you were ready to be in his hands. You wet your lips as he adjusted the speed on his tattoo gun. “Will this hurt?” You asked, tucking one of your arms behind your head.

The look of unadulterated lust that he gave you made your toes want to curl. “Probably a bit. It feels good sometimes, though,” he answered. He came closer to you, resting his forearm on your stomach to angle himself in the right position. At the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, you swore your body was on fire. It took everything in your power not to moan. It could have been the adrenaline pulsing through your veins, but his soft breath and the anticipation of the needle made you feel like a junky. “I’ll be gentle, darling,” he leered, his accent muddy and low. He let the needles drag against your skin and you bit your lip, trying not to hiss at the pain. His eyes met yours. “See, not bad.”

You let out a breathy wheeze. “Shut up, you sadist,” you quipped, his chuckle coming out rather roguish as he focused on the work in front of him. Your nerves were more focused on the way George’s hands were barely caressing your body as if teasing and hinting at what he could do to you.

You drew in a sharp breath as he hit a particularly sensitive spot. “Shhh shh. It’ll be over soon,” he cooed, his voice sending goosebumps spreading across your body as his lips tugged into a light smirk. By your palm reading, you knew he was enjoying having this much control over you.

Part of you found it almost torture when George would look at you with soft and lusty eyes for merely a second before his gaze jutted back down to his work, murmuring soft praises about how well you were taking the pain. You would go under the needle anytime he asked, just to receive the sultry treatment he gave.

He was so close, you could have driven your fingers into his dark hair if you wanted. “How did you get this scar?” He asked, cleaning off some of the ink before continuing.

“A knife fight,” you answered without missing a beat, making him scoff. “Actually, I fell into my grandma’s glass table one time. My cousin was teaching me the Electric Slide,” you corrected, making him laugh, shaking his head slightly as he filled in a spot.

He let his tongue dart across his lips. “That’s so cute. Did you ever get it figured out?” To this you shook your head, the both of you laughing. You let out a groan as the needle dug into another area on your ribs, the sound making his eyes dart up to you. He leaned off of you, slipping one of his gloves off. “Wanna hold my hand, sweetheart?” He joked, but you took his offer, squeezing his hand in yours when it got painful enough. You held it close to your chest, hoping he would feel your heartbeat quicken each time he looked at you.

As he finished up his work, his thumb brushed against your hand absent-mindedly. You could tell by the way he gripped your hand as well that he enjoyed that the tattoo hurt you. Most of your mind was excited by how easily he was stirred up by you, while the rest was completely unsurprised and even threatened to bite out that he was a cliché.

When he was finally satisfied, he cleaned you up and stuck on a SecondSkin, biting back a grin at his work as he pulled you up by the hand he was holding onto you with. You couldn’t help but smile at how excited you were to see, swinging your legs over the side of his hair and walking towards his mirror. You held your shirt up, chewing on your bottom lip as you grinned at the ink. George rested a hand beside the mirror, watching you beam at his work.

All of his lines were flawless, your scar completely disappearing within his shading. You’d pitched the idea of an ode to the Creation of Adam. While it was cliche, what better to fit in the space below your breast and give George the impression that you were cultured. Yet you told him he could do whatever he wanted to it, resulting in one of the hands resembling a skeleton and the other holding a sucker. As you praised him, he shrugged off your comments, murmuring about it being his pleasure. He reached out his free hand, letting his thumb smooth over one of the edges of this bandage, which brought you closer to him.

Your cheeks warmed at the close proximity to him as his eyes grazed over your body before meeting your own. His hand moved from the bandage to your back. You leaned on your toes, pressing your lips to his. The tension between the two of you dissipated as he hungrily reacted, pulling you against him and savoring your moans as his tongue slipped into your mouth.

George’s hands moved down your body, swiftly hooking around your thighs and wrapping your legs around his waist to bring you back to his chair. Your hands moved into his hair, letting it loose and wrapping the band around your wrist. The leather was cold as your back pressed to it. George leaned back to pull his shirt over his head, revealing more of the tree painting the expanses of his skin.

If you weren’t so eager to be touched by him, you’d be studying the work of art.

As his lips met yours again, you ground your hips against his, eliciting a moan to vibrate through his chest. You raked your nails down his back, trying to further draw out reactions from him as his hands attentively played with the lace of your bra, fingers ghosting over the skin pressing against the cups.

His lips left yours only to travel the length of your jaw and inch his way toward your waistband. Your pants were discarded with a swift tug from him before he pulled your thighs flush against his, grinding his hips against yours, hands gripping onto your sides to keep you in place. You tilted your head back, relishing in the friction as your body screamed to finally feel him take advantage of you.

You reached between the two of you, tugging at his zipper as your hunger for him escalated. His tongue flattened against your collarbone before his teeth pressed into your skin. You could feel his arousal through his jeans at the sound of your whimpering.

He pumped himself in his hand before pressing into you, the feeling of him inside of you making your head spin as if you were on some kind of ecstasy. Your moan came out needy and desperate as he thrust into you, gripping the edge of the leather seat as his breath hummed against your skin. Your fingers threaded into his hair, raking your nails down his neck as he groaned in your ear at the feeling.

One of his hands grasped your wrists together, pinning them above your head while the other wrapped around your throat. His eyes burned into yours as he leaned back, leaning his weight on your wrists and squeezing your throat, the lack of oxygen making each of your senses more heightened as he pounded into you.

Your moans of George’s name were grated as they slipped through your mouth, his relentless pace and intense hold nearly making you drool from the stimulation. By the practice of his actions, you wondered how long he had been stewing on demolishing you in this way.

He loosened his grip on your neck, leaning down to press his lips against yours, dragging his teeth along your bottom lip just to hear you groan from the rough action. You rolled your hips against his, letting him slow his pace to reach deeper within you. A sadistic grin spread across his face as he rubbed a thumb across your cheek, wiping away the makeup smudging around your eyes from his antics and the heat between the two of you.

He pressed his lips to your neck, wrapping his hand around the edge of the chair again to drive himself into you, the new angle muddling your mind and vision as your body ached to come undone. You sank your nails into his back, earning his low, raspy whispers of your name.

At his praises, you came, tugging on his hair as he bit into your shoulder again, basking in the feeling of you clenching around him.

The next day, George stretched his shoulders, peering through the front window of his shop. His mind sparked with the feeling of your legs around his waist and the softness of your skin beneath his fingertips. He could practically hear you whimpering his name in his ears as he went back to touching up a fading tattoo on his friend’s arm.

“OW, George,” Clay rumbled, thigh flinching at the jab from George.

George snorted, his mind still on the high he got from your pure trust in him as you laid out on his chair. “I’ll give you something to bitch about,” George grumbled, releasing just how gentle he was during your tattoo. The way your voice got soft and quiet when he rolled over a spot that was rather tender already would most definitely be a guilty pleasure of his.

Clay barked at him again as George jerked his hand, fulfilling his promise. “I’VE BEEN NICE TO YOU ALL MORNING.”

Tag List: (to be added, follow this link :))

@karlkitten @more-like-reyna @honk-izzie-was-taken @marrymetheonott @froggyy06 @savingpluto @marshmallow-babe @drunkpumpkincake @little-gremlin-in-the-walls @tinyegg @mintmochiii @clubfairy @aroyaldarknessblr @camerondiaz48104 @madsbbg @rat-poisin @alm334 @cdizzlevalntyne @phsychopathetic @froggerrrr @robinslie @jemalovesmarvel @sbi-is-my-onlysanity

[miranda-mundt-art]

How did you get to where you are?

I know the easy and immediate answer- practice. Drawing often, drawing daily, and pushing yourself for years. It’s the answer every artist gives and that’s fair, because it’s true.

But how did you keep pushing through? I hate what I make. It’s so hard to just ‘keep practicing!’ when the results are so disappointing. It’s hard to keep at it when I look at page after page of work I’m not proud of. Did you ever feel like this? And what’s the answer if you did? How do I push through this frustration and inadequacy to be able to draw for my own enjoyment and for others’? I want to make comics, I want to make fanart, I want to make art for the sheer enjoyment of it. But I look at my reference and then at my creation and it’s so hard to keep at it.

Is there any advice you could give? Was there anything that helped you if you ever felt this way?

well first off - I don't recommend drawing daily. Tbh I don't. I don't think I ever have unless I was really excited to draw every day but if I don't feel like drawing I usually dont lmfao. You can try scribbling a bit and see if it sparks something in you but I wouldn't push it. You'll just burn yourself out over nothing. But tbh my answer might not be what you're looking for because it's not something that is necessarily healthy lol

WELL okay - one thing that might be helpful is just the concept of letting go of what you think is perfect and that "FINISHED is better than perfect" Because things will never be perfect. So you just gotta learn to work with what you got in that moment and try to do better next time.

But yeah - I feel like my work isn't good enough a lot (not always and not as much as I used too but that's just a thing for artist is the periods of time when your eyes are working better for you than your hands are.) I graduated from animation school in 2011, didn't get into animation, had a job at a call center and thought that was the worst thing that I'd ever done. Worked as a freelance artist for 10-ish years ( childrens books and graphic design) and 99% of that time I didn't draw fan art until Heather's literally took a chunk out of my brain for a year in 2017 and then I joined the WEBTOON contest for Muted in 2019. But if I didn't finish my work then I............ didnt' eat. lmfao. Not like I would starve myself but art was literally my job and i didn't have an alternative to NOT doing it- it was the only way that I got paid. If I spent time making everything perfect then I wouldn't be able to meet my deadlines - and I found very quickly that things that I overthought and tried to make 'perfect' were things that people generally liked LESS (this isn't always the case but I found that to be the way)

So I will say this- idk how old you are - but you're probably young. Even if you're 30 ... you're young. I think a lot of people don't really realize just how much time there is... and things will keep growing and changing the more you do them.

The downside of my method is of course that I can't NOT treat art like a job anymore. It's very rare for me to set time aside to draw "for fun" as opposed to drawing "for work" but I am in a good place now where my work-art IS fun art (i like drawing muted stuff)

I'll recommend an exercise I recommended to someone else the other day - just because I suffer heavily from over working pieces sometimes - try for speed for a while.

I'd encourage you to maybe just sketch a handful of your ideas between 10-30 minutes and then after you are done sketching pick which one you are most excited to work on to keep developing on in that moment key word being - the one you're most excited to work on- not the one you think people will like most. Work on it for an hour - still excited to work on it? no? Wrap up some finishing touches and call it done. DONE not "WIP", wrap it up and put a bow on it. There is always next time :) cuz even if you don't like how it looks now - if you like the concept?? you can keep it and come back to it in a couple years and redraw it and see how you've improved since then and see how you can build on your original idea!

[sunjaesol]

because your kiss is on my list

alternatively: four times juke snuck up on each other for affection and the one time they didn’t have to | based on the achingly beautiful fanart by @lovelyrugbee

1. 

Luke was being manic again. And not in a cute: “Oh my God, he’s so passionate about music!”-way, but in a: “He might actually tear his eyes out from these infuriating lyrics that aren’t working”-way. Every once in a while, songs didn’t flow out as easily as they usually did. The topic was a bit trickier, or the instrumentals didn’t mesh, or something was just off. Julie wasn’t too stressed about it. They had plenty of time to rework and fix things before the gig in two weeks. 

Unfortunately, Luke didn’t have the same mindset. 

He has been holed up in the studio all day, cramped on the windowsill to the point of submitting himself to a hernia and scrapping writing scrapping scrapping scrapping. The sound was infuriating, Alex being the first to poof out and Reggie following soon after when Ray became far more interesting than a guitarist going haywire. Which was sad, cause her dad was just unloading groceries. 

Alright. She had to do something. Standing at the doors of studio with a somewhat amused expression, she took in as her boyfriend was oblivious to the world and her. In any other situation, he’d notice and compliment the orange dress she was wearing. She thought about calling his name, maybe singing or jamming her fingers on the piano, but then a better idea came. A fun one.

Quietly slipping closer, a mischievous grin crawled on her lips. Thank God she was barefoot, or else her sneakers would’ve squeaked against the cement floors. He still hasn’t noticed her, the pinch between his brow so deep and lost in thought. 

Three, two, one... 

“Ah!”, she cried out like a warrior, snapping her arms around him from behind and snatching the damned songbook from his grasp. Before he could react, she smacked a wet kiss on his cheek and added a “Mwah!” for good measure. 

The startled Luke began chuckling, trying to get his book back, her peppering more kisses on his cheek in retaliation. He had to get out of this funk! Breathe a little! Turning his cheek to look at her, he smirked. “Sneaking kisses now, Jules?”

Julie hummed against his skin, eyes sparkling. Whispering in his ear, she said: “Stop breaking your head over these lyrics and relax. We have time.” 

His smile softened, gaze tracking the way she hugged him and then- “I like the dress you’re wearing.”

Ah, yes. There he was. 

2. 

Julie Molina truly made the afterlife less boring and a whole lot more bearable. Which became really apparent whenever she had an avalanche of homework and couldn’t hang out. Luke loved his boys, but damn did he miss his girlfriend a lot now. If the situation were different (you know, had he not been head over heels in love with her), he’d poof up to her room and annoy her until she came to the studio. Alas, he respected his girlfriend and her interest in getting good grades, so he had to deal with it. 

Bleh. “Dealing with it” was like a curse word to him. 

He hasn’t seen her all day though. She left early for school and didn’t pass by the studio when she got back. All he needed was a quick look and talk and maybe a hug and then he wouldn’t be so antsy. 

(What he’d give to wrestle her into cuddling right now. He was honestly blessed he found a girl who saw all of his need for affection and then gladly gave triple the amount.)

Yup. Screw homework. He had to see her. Without telling the boys, he stood up with a huff and poofed out. The offended “hey!” from Alex he ignored. 

Dropping into Julie’s room, a smile instantly bloomed on his face at the sight of her. She was on her bed, textbooks and notes splayed out in front of her while her curls danced with each breath she took. Even when tired, his girlfriend was pretty as hell. 

“Hey,” he grinned.

She didn’t look up and mumbled: “Hey.” A page turned. “What’re you doing here?”

Luke sat down on the edge of her bed, far enough so her pens wouldn’t roll away. “Haven’t seen you today. I missed you.”

This time she did look up, her weary eyes softening and smiling. “I missed you too. I have homework though, so...” The implication was there: please leave so I can finish. His hope for a hug quickly dwindled.

“Yeah,” he muttered, not ready to go back and get slapped by Alex. “Uh...” His eyes fell on her right hand, slightly more outstretched then the other. It just... laid there. Teasing him. Freaking tantalising him when he knew how good it felt whenever those fingers brushed his cheeks or raked his hair. 

It happened before he thought about it. Crawling onto the mattress, he snatched her hand and pressed soft kisses on the knuckles. Julie caught his gaze again, that smile he loved so much melting into an adoring puff - like she couldn’t believe this idiot was her boyfriend.

He didn’t mind being her idiot.  

3.

Sometimes, Julie was just that more adorable. Like now, with her hair spread around her shoulders and that small smile stuck on her lips and her eyes that seemed impossibly soft today. All for him, only for him. 

Sure, it was probably because they were working on one of their personal songs, but the fact remained that his girlfriend still left him rendered speechless months into dating.

“What if we try it in a lower key?”, Julie proposed, nodding at his guitar. 

The song in question was a song about them. It wasn’t so lovey-dovey that it would turn the guys off, but it was still blatant. Only they would write about ‘the sea glass green of his eyes’ and ‘the smile that put Mona Lisa to shame’. 

He did what she asked, her singing the same verse again. It held more depth now, soulful and lively. The rasp in her tone made it playful and egged him on to join, like it was truly banter between lovers put to music. It was them. It was her. It was-

Luke abruptly stopped playing, pushed his guitar aside and grabbed onto her. She hardly had time to chuckle as he pressed his lips onto her forehead and held her as tight as possible. Warmth filled his chest, that strange sensation of being loved and loving back twice as hard, as she clutched his body. He almost got choked up. Here he was, in the sundrenched studio with the girl he adored playing the music they created together and she was singing it in such a quintessentially ‘them’ way. No one but them would ever truly understand the magic they conjured. How it was only explained through grins melting on skin and the giddy skip in his heartbeat. 

“What’s that for?”, she smiled. 

His hand trailed from her back to her cheeks with an elated shrug. How could he explain to her her ‘Julie-ness’ was dialled up to two hundred without sounding insane? Caressing the skin, he murmured instead: “I guess you’re just irresistible today.”   

Her eyes squeezed shut at his words, like she was embarrassed how much delight it brought her, and pressed her face back in his shoulder. 

Letting that giddy skip in his chest kiss her again, he gently pulled away to sent her a wink. “Let’s finish ‘Wicked Love’, yeah?”

4.

“So, Flynn’s been thinking-”

“Mh-hm.”

“-about a new poster for the gig we’re playing. The old one is a little amateur and she made some new concepts. Wanna see?” Julie held her phone at his face, his hand leaving the strings of his guitar to gently push it back. Falling back on the bed, she frowned. 

“Maybe later, I’m figuring out this progression...” His back bend over his guitar again, only giving her a view of the black muscle tee. 

When Luke told her he wanted to hang out that Saturday afternoon, she had hoped it would be a bit more ‘Julie and Luke’ and not ‘Luke and His Guitar’ - alas, the girlfriend was competing with a piece of wood and some metal. While texting Flynn about graphic design was fun, it was time for Luke to start doing what he promised her.

Then again, she was a sucker for music talk. “Why don’t you try switching up the chords? Start with G instead of C.”

He tried it out, a grin crawling on his cheeks. “Yeah... yeah, that works. Thanks, Jules.”

“So?”, she sang. 

“Hm?”

With a sigh, she grabbed onto the strap of his guitar and gave it a tug. Luke’s neck rolled backwards in surprise, catching her playful smile.  

Chastely pecking his forehead, she said: “Your head is in the clouds.”

The teasing look of his matched hers. “You’re kissing my head right now.”

“Mh-hm,” she mumbled, loving the way his hair had that perpetual scent of apple and something inherently Luke. Kissing the locks, she added: “And you’ll be getting a lot more if you actually start hanging out with me.”

His book and instrument slid off his body just like that as he speared her into hug. Luke collapsed onto her body with the cutest grin and she knew she caught him. Their laughs chimed throughout the house for the rest of the day. 

+5.

Luke poofed onto her bed with a grin, his girlfriend automatically snuggling into his side and finding each other’s lips with ease. For a beat, they’re cherished the quiet passion shared between them. They didn’t need to do a lot to feel loved by the other. 

He pressed his nose into her curls. “How was school?”

“Good,” Julie whispered against his neck. “How was the studio?”

“Chill. Reggie scared a spider.”

She giggled, the sound making his grin widen and hide his face so she wouldn’t see how ridiculously giddy she made him. Turning her head so she’d see him anyway, her nose scrunched. “I know you’re smiling.”

“That’s my line, Molina,” he huffed, the teasing glint shimmering in his eyes. 

A signature brow quirked. “You got that on paper?”

He didn’t miss a second. “I love you.” He didn’t need to ponder or linger or rewrite or scrap or workshop the thought. It wasn’t even a thought. It was a truth and he’d repeat that truth over and over again until the universe knew it too and kept it in their books for centuries to come. He loved her, he loved her, he loved her. 

The smile that came was worth the truth, how her love for him broke through without a moment of hesitation. Now she’d say the same, over and over and over again, so the universe knew they were talking about each other and would always keep their names together in said books. 

Julie kissed him again, long and sweet and as easy as breathing. Her utters were barely audible, but his heart caught it. “I love you too.”

Locked in their embrace, they shared earphones listening to their favourite music until they fell asleep. (How Luke could fall asleep, but only when in her loving touch, he wouldn’t question. Some oddities of the universe were best unsaid.) 

@blush-and-books @unsaid-emily @bluefirewrites @willexx @ourstarscollided @alexjulies

[bluesclves]

I'm working my way through all the Legend of Zelda games I can get my hands on. Oddly enough, it's Skyward Sword that got me invested in the rest of the series, haha. I played BotW and loved it, tried to play Link's Awakening and got frustrated so I quit, then I played Hyrule Warriors: Age of Calamity and had fun just demolishing the enemies that used to kick my ass in botw, but still I wasn't like, invested in the series. Pretty much I just liked the botw stuff.

Then Skyward Sword HD came out and I went "sure why not?" Because I remember the game grumps hating it but I liked Sonic and the Black Knight for wii, and the switch has way better motion controls, so I figured I'd give it a go. (Plus I really wanted the themed joy-cons bc they're so pretty and it felt silly to get the joy-cons without having the actual game they're attached to.)

Anyways, I loved it. I don't see why people complain so much about the motion controls even on switch? I thought they were fine and I actually loved how engaging it made the combat, plus there's just an indescribable sort of joy involved in using the motion controls to draw the master sword and hold it over your head, okay? It's just fun.

Anyways, that's the first I guess 'standard' LoZ game I've played to completion. I got frustrated a few times with the puzzles, but I was invested enough to keep going until I figured it out. The final fight against Demise-Ganon had me cursing at my screen but when I finally beat him it was so satisfying, totally worth it imo.

And now that I have the story of the last Link (so far) and the first Link in the timeline, I'm curious enough about the space in between to take another shot at the other LoZ games I've given up on before. I just finished Ocarina of Time 3D, which was a lot easier than I remember now that I'm actually familiar with how a Zelda game is structured (basically find temple, solve puzzles, get new item, boss fight featuring new item, find the next temple-- ad nauseum).

I'm going into Hyrule Warriors: Definitive edition now (Warriors Link is so pretty haha, I see why people call him 'pretty boy' in LU fics/fanart lol). This is another game I tried before but I just wasn't invested enough in the characters to get into it? It also seemed too easy at the time, so I'm playing it on the higher difficulty, but I also know that if it's anything like Age of Calamity, it gives us a lot more story and interesting missions.

I have A Link Between Worlds to play next, assuming I can't get ahold of Majora's Mask for 3DS. Then I'll take another shot at Link's Awakening, I guess.

Any other suggestions for what I can play? I have a Switch and a 3DS, and my brother has a Wii but we don't have a Wii U.

Also, what I'm realizing about Legend of Zelda games, is that most of them are kinda like Fanfiction. They don't really do a good job of introducing their central Characters because they expect us to already recognize them. That's what's different about BotW and Skyward Sword; they do a really good job of setup, because for both of them, the hero is just as knowledgeless as the player. SS!Link knows nothing about great evil demons or the triforce, he's just a sleepyhead skyboy. They don't even have a kingdom yet, they just have a floating island with a school and some big-ass birds.

BotW does a GREAT job of introducing the world of Hyrule and everything in it because Link literally has no memories at the start of it. We learn everything that's going on as he does. And if you're interested in learning more, you can seek out his forgotten memories as an optional side quest. You don't have to, but you can if you're curious.

Comparatively, Age of Calamity relies heavily on you having played BotW, and the dramatic irony they can create from the player knowing one future as they help divert it from that path.

And Ocarina of Time doesn't really explain much about their characters. The Great Deku Tree's death is heartbreaking to me now, knowing that SS!Link planted him, and knowing the tree from BotW. But in OoT, it just kinda... happens? And didn't mean much of anything to me the first time I played the game. You know the Deku tree is supposed to be important, but not why. You see Zelda a grand total of one time before she runs away from the castle with Impa, and it's clearly supposed to be a dramatic scene, but we don't know her at all. Then Sheik shows up when you're an adult, shows up to teach you songs and then just leaves, and it's kinda clunky and doesn't really help us form an attachment to the character at all. Really, the only character besides link that is recurring enough and actually has speaking lines with personality is like... Navi, and maybe Malon, if you seek her out for Epona. Everyone else shows up like two or three times at most, and either has an instant crush on Link, or is just grateful for his help.

I enjoyed the game, playing it now, but I definitely had to care about the characters first-- I wouldn't have been able to get into this game if I wasn't already invested in Link's journey and kicking Ganon's ass.

So like, it suffers from fanfiction-syndrome, I think.

Anyways, this post is all over the place. Hope that made sense?

[que-de-metal]

🎈 August 2022

Hiii! I'm trying something out, we'll see if I do it again next month. Between my writing WIPs or my animation work a lot of the art I do ends up not being posted and it looks like I'm taking long hiatuses. I thought it would be fun to do little monthly logs where I quickly tell you what I've been up to that i haven't posted... Would anyone be interested in that? 🤨 here comes

Fanart

I watched Person of Interest this spring and summer and it's my new favourite show. I made a bunch of fanart this month but it's sitting in my drafts cause I'm waiting to finish the show (i'm on the last leg of season 4) to post.

The touhou ship week was so much fun. I want to share the rough sketches of my ship week posts because I think they're cute

Fanfiction Writing

I haven't published any fanfiction this summer because I started working on my biggest fanfic project to date: Pink Ledger! It's a yakuza AU for a very nostalgic (well. for people my age.) french comic called Pink Diary. It's an AU retelling of the entire story with the full cast and all the canon ships + some non-canon. I planned for 8 chapters (like the 8 volumes of the comic) and I just finished chapter 1 at 15k words, so it's going to be novel-length. I'm very excited! It's in french, so I haven't been posting any excerpts for WIPWednesday, but if some French followers are interested I can share some stuff.

I'm not giving up on my other series, though, and between each chapter of Pink Ledger I intend to work on a touhou fic. I'm currently working on the next story for my Afterparty series. One thing I can say is this one's about food. I'm hoping to have it out in september.

Animation

My latest short film was released too late for festival season... maybe next year. But I've been going to schools to talk to children about the process of making an animated film. It was fun to see the students react to the film, and then show them the behind the scenes stuff, like the storyboard...

I started working on another short this summer and even got to pitch it a little to some producers, but I ran into an issue. This was a film about AI art which was half documentary half fictional/sci-fi/surreal story, but the release of dall-e 2 and the spread of dall-e mini made me reconsider a lot of what I wrote. I basically have to start from scratch, and I'm not sure where to start anymore...

Anyways, until next year I'll be working as the main rigger on a 80 episode TV show, so it's not like I'll work on this new short right away. 2D rigging is always fascinating and I wish I could post some behind the scenes and show off my rigs but as usual when working on a show, that's NDA territory 🕵️‍♀️ Would anyone be interested in a rig video with my personal rigs? (on Toon Boom)

_

What projects are you guys currently working on? Well, I hope I can be more active in September. Bye bye ✌

[bakugouisabitch]

nono, i care about your very specific highschool au. rant about it please.

dgslsjs omg youu 🥺

well if you insist.... ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

okay, i once had a discord group which i miss sm rip where i shared some ideas from that AU so i’m basically gonna repeat them here now shsjs under the read more 👇

this AU includes both Maliks as siblings (+ Isis and Rishid ofc) and both Bakuras as siblings too. The two Yamis are the elder brothers of the non-Yamis so they also have their own name ofc. 

For Yami Malik I’d go with Amir cause the name is beautiful and fits him somehow (it means ‘prince’ or ‘chief’). This AU is literally so self-indulgent where I can finally write Amir just how I picture him in my head as the funny himbo he is, who makes some creepy jokes at times but is generally a nice guy and is just constantly stoned sdfgskh

For Yami Bakura i haven’t thought of a name yet 🙃 He’s low key the protag and I still don’t have a name for him 👏 good work, Ziggy 👏 I was thinking about something that makes his initials still be YB so a name with Y actually (Yamato maybe ?) Everyone calls him Bakura/Bakura-kun anway and they mostly call Ryou “the little Bakura”/Bakura-chan (affectionately) since he is the little brother ahsksfsj

In this AU Amir and YB are like really close friends. They are classmates in their last year together and they are known for being trouble makers. But not just like Honda and Jounouchi in the anime - they are worse than that. They have risked being expelled many times and smoke on the school’s rooftops and even hang out with older guys who sell illegal shit and such (it’d be tw for drugs ofc). OH and lots of spray painting on public places ��� They are really best buds and bonded over same interests and music taste and same hate for the society and family and such. This fanart was a major inspiration to write these two as high school best buddies.

Also, I did a quick redraw of the typical anime boys sleeping in the classroom pose with these two. That’s them:

 (might finish it one day and post it seperately idk my motivation is swinging lately 🤷)

All their “criminal” behaviour ofc stems from a sad background/past because i’m just a sucker for angst and i keep making my boys suffer 😔 i’m sorry. Every guy in this AU has daddy issues or just family issues in general

YB is VERY overprotective over his little brother Ryou (who’s just two years younger than him, and just like Malik, starts his first high school year in Domino High School). He is literally responsible for raising him up because ever since they lost their mother and Amane (Ryou’s twin sister) at a very young age their father fell into a very deep depression and he’s constantly away “for work” and just generally neglects his two remaining sons. YB hates their father because of that so he has taken it as his own responsibility to make sure Ryou is always safe and protected and acts like the parent in their home (where there is usually just the two of them). Also, another self indulgent thing here: YB being an ass with everyone except for being an overprotective good big brother for Ryou 🥺 please! so cute!! (They ride a bike together on their way to school like this fanart)

The Ishtar’s parents are both dead. Their mother died when giving birth to the youngest one (Malik) and their father died under very tragic circumstances (still gotta think how 🤔 it definitely wasn’t Amir tho’) and they used to have a very abusive household thus why Amir HATES their dad. Contrary to Malik, who keeps saying he deserved a second chance and was a good father and wishes he could have made him proud ~ this always makes Amir and Malik fight amongst other things and this is what also bonds Amir and YB so much: the hate for their old man.

It would be a very psychological AU that deals with a lot of issues and shit and traumas the boys have to live with + adding all the typical teenage angst at that age so it’s CHAOS. and I’d also have the perfect soundtrack/playlist for it 💆‍♀️ (it would be set in the 90s)

Ofc it’d be bakumali because I can’t help myself (and maybe also Ryou x Amir as a side pairing 👀)

Since it’s Malik’s first year in domino high school he wants to be recognised as one of the “cool kids” and befriend the older boys from the class. he just hates it that his big brother (Amir) is always there as well. Compared to the Bakuras these two have much more of a turbulent kind of relationship going on as siblings, where they constantly fight and Amir says Malik “ruined” the family whenever their fights get harsher and Malik says father never loved him anyway. Isis and Rishid try to keep the family and the boys under control as young adults but it’s hard 😔

YB visits the Ishtars sometimes to hang out with Amir in his room where they listen to music, smoke weed, and play PS and such and this is when Malik “spies” on YB. he thinks his big brother’s friend looks so cool with his ripped jeans and eyeliner and black nail polish. One night YB and Amir are smoking weed in Amir’s room and playing PS when Malik would use the chance. He’d piss Amir off and tell him it’s his turn to take the trash out on purpose to make him leave his room. Ofc Amir says no but then Malik “threatens” him with “I will tell sister you smoke weed if you don’t take the trash out”. And so Amir leaves (slamming the door behind him like an unruly teenager and saying he’s gonna kill Malik) and leaves a stoned YB alone in his room. And this is when Malik uses the chance to be alone with a very confused and very stoned YB who wonders why Amir’s little brother seems to be so interested in him sdfghjkl and yea this is basically their first encounter.

Malik has basically a kind of obvious “fangirl crush” for YB but the latter is so confused why and what he even sees in him. Because for him there’s nothing “cool” in skipping school and breaking the rules, it’s just the only thing he knows. But for Malik this is the coolest shit he’s ever seen.

this little sketch i made kinda shows my idea for their relationship in this AU better sdfghjk:

Malik befriends Ryou (who is in his same class and school year) out of convenience ofc cause he wants to get closer to YB. Yes Malik is a lil bitch in this AU. And Ryou is like extremely nice and polite, he’s the weird silent kid who doesn’t have a lot of friends and lives in his own world. He falls victim to bullies a lot and YB also keeps that rough facade to make sure no one messes with him. Ryou befriends Malik and tries to answer all of the weird, intimate questions he has of his big brother...

One night I, like, imagined a scenario where Amir and YB are out spray-painting a wall behind the station with some other thugs and Malik and Ryou followed them secretly (it was all Malik’s plan) even if Ryou was totally contrary to the idea. Once they see the guys have drugs and alcohol Ryou wants to leave, but Malik says this is exactly what makes it exciting and joins them without warning. When Amir and YB see Malik they panic, wondering what he is doing here. Amir gets particularly pissed off and wants to just leave. ofc YB tells him he can’t just leave his young brother alone in a place like this with people like that. But Amir ignores him (and this will lead to one of the first big fights between the two best buddies 😔 they will punch each other. I told you it will have a lot of angst)

Anyway at the end Amir leaves and YB is decent enough to bring both Ryou and Malik home but then Malik insits on wanting to crash at their place. So YB is like “i guess??” And they spend the night together at the Bakura’s place :) YB takes the couch and leaves his bed for Malik to sleep in but Malik will have none of that ofc sgksksj

Okay sorry for boring you, I could go on forever with so many scenarios of this AU or like actually sit down and write it... and yea.. that’s it.... just angsty and misunderstood boys in a shitty society with shitty parents trying to find a sense with their lives 🥺

[doodle-fics]

Overload

Miya Twins x Reader (Separate)

Warning: Fluff???

Fanart by me of course

Miya Atsumu

Walking home with Atsumu was... Let's just say, his voice was music to your ears. Every night you guys walk together, you only listen to him babble about his team and the practice match he attended. And after the Youth program, he babble about the goody two shoes from Karasuno and how the spikers felt when he set for them.

But this time, your mind wander off somewhere, not listening to his voice.

"n..."

"Y/N..."

"Y/N!!" he exclaimed, stopping you from walking. "Your house is here... Are you alright?" he asks.

You look at the house and sighed. "Thanks Tsumu, sorry if I react like that... I'm just... Just tired...?" you question yourself. Unsure of how you feel right now. "Maybe a goodnight sleep is what I needed."

Atsumu brushed his hands to your cheeks, tucking the lose strand of your hair. When you were walking earlier, he noticed how dark your eyebags were and how you zone out.

"Did ya need something?" He asks, examining you carefully. You smiled and hugged him.

"This" you said as you hugged him tightly. "Good night Tsumu, rest well" you said, going inside.

"Hey! I should be the one to say that to you!" he exclaimed as he heard you giggle.

At that night, he began to think of what he'll do to make you rest.

In the morning,after your usual morning routine, you trudge yourself outside. You were surprised that Atsumu is waiting for you.

He smiled. "I don't know if it'll make you better but here." he gave you a bento. "I... Made that for you..." he said, blushing.

You rose an eyebrow. "Did you made a bet with Samu this time?"

"NO! Come on now! We'll be late!" he exclaimed. You look down to his hands and noticed some bandaids. You contemplate to whether you should stop your tracks and take a look at his wound but you guess that if you pointed it out, he will only laugh it off.

Then, after class, since you guys are in a different classroom, he used his charm to ask the notebooks of your classmates and copy some notes that you forgot, which was only to minimal.

Then at lunch, you guys were eating at the cafeteria but only to be stopped by a teacher since there were something that they needed you to be. Which was helping them to assort the files in physics lab and that took the whole lunch, missing out Atsumu's bento.

At his practice, he told you that you could sleep with his jersey hanging to your shoulders.

"I'll be eating outside." You said, smiling. "I'm going to eat what you cooked Tsumu. Don't worry I won't be gone long"

When you finished your late lunch and gone back inside the gym, you noticed that he winced when he tried to set.

Kita also noticed it and called out to him.

You walked towards him with the first aid and look at his hands. "You..." You muttered. "YOU BLOODY IDIOT!" you exclaimed, replacing the band aids and treating them.

The whole team disperse, knowing that he'll be okay with you there and likely he won't die because of that.

"You idiot." You said, dipping alcohol swab in his fingers which he winced and shouted. "You don't need to this to me, you know. Just being you there by my side is okay." You smiled, wrapping his hands with a few bandages. "I know I get stressed sometimes but you don't need to go that far. I love you for what your always doing... Stay by my side and I won't wish anymore." You said smiling. "And besides!" You kissed his fingers softly. "I'm fully recharged!"

The blushing and flustered Tsumu is something rare, so when Suna notices it, he took out his phone and began to take a picture.

"Tsumu, you look like the tomato you used in the omelette this morning"

"SHUT UP SAMU! AND QUIT TAKING PICTURES RIN!"

------------

Miya Osamu

You guys are supposed to have a sleepover today but the school works keep piling up one top of the another.

"What the actual fuck? We both attend the same school yet you're already finished at what you're doing?" you exclaimed, groaning. "I can't do this anymore... I just can't" tears almost formed in the corner of your eyes

Samu sat beside you and look at the paper you are working on. "You're wrong at no. 3"

"What the fuck?"

"Language"

You groaned and took at the paper he was holding and began redoing it again. He sighed and smiled, walking away.

"Where are you going?"

"Out?"

You suddenly realized that maybe someone called despite having plans that only two of you are on a sleepover. "Oh... Should I, come over next time? You didn't told me that you have something to attend to."

Osamu stopped you from picking your things. "No, no..." he chuckled. "I want to cook you something. Do you want something sweet? Or salty?"

Your eyes piqued some interest. "I have too much salt earlier so maybe something sweet"

"Got it"

After he was done grocery shopping and cooking, he noticed the never ending papers were still scattered at the table, and you, focused on mumbling and at the paper below you.

He put the tray on the table and began to clean the mess, putting away the papers to your side.

"Huh?" you asked, lifting your head up and noticed that he prepared you a meal. "Oh... Oh!" you said as you put the paper you were working on beside you and began digging to the food. "Thanks for the food"

He smiled. "Do ya need something else?" you patted behind you, beckoning him to sit behind you.

When he was behind you, you leaned backwards and cuddle.

"Haaa..." You said, between eating. "I'm recharging. Thanks Samu"

"I love you"

"I love you too"

-----------

Another gift for you guys!