#might try experimenting with color palettes such as this!!

[3r-tree]

LCB sinners as characters inside Honkai Star Rail universe because why not (2/3) First batch (1-4) here

Meursault: With his affiliation with N Corp in the canon Limbus universe, I wonder if I can fit him into a faction that resembles N Corp. While IPC is not the most cult-ish faction in HSR, I can see him trying to find life in static corporate life. Another idea is that he's also in Doctors of Chaos since his nihilism strengthens him rather than weakens him (this is also why he got the Preservation path). To be fair, he's one of the hardest since he's pretty passive in the game and my unfamiliarity with the source material (The Strangers) made me not really confident with my interpretation of Meursault. I want to make his clothing as formal, rigid, and "corporate" as possible. There are some chains on his clothing to referencing his logo in Limbus. Hong Lu: While I usually stay away from making the sinners with HSR canon characters being too attached, he's the one who actually has the closest attachment with HSR characters due to his role as Xianzhou Luofu vidyadhara. For short, my delulu is that he's supposed to be Bailu's replacement since some of the elders disagree with Bailu as the next Imbibitor Lunae so they secretly train him to replace Bailu only to backfire with Hong Lu escapes from Xianzhou Luofu. His role as Imbibitor Lunae is not even to be a true leader but as the Elder's puppet to be a symbol while The Council will be the one that rules the vidyadhara in Xianzhou Luofu. But for now, I'll write him as "wandering vidyadhara with questionable past with the Preceptors." He can be anything, to be honest. He can be Self Annihilator, Masked Fools, Stellaron Hunter, or even Ten Stonehearts, but I stick to The Nameless to reference his goal to experience the world in Limbus and his source material (Dream of the Red Chamber) though he never encounters Astral Express just like Baiheng. His design is supposed to make him like a walking jade with red as a contrast (also haha red chamber haha red dust get it?-)

Heathcliff: His reference is Wild Hunt Heathcliff but with more proper clothes since he's the sole manor owner now after all of the shithole that happened in Wuthering Heights though you can see his clothes are ragged now to reference his origin before he was brought into Wuthering Height. Catherine has a connection with The Cremators now since HSR doesn't have a multiverse concept in the worldbuilding. I can see him becoming a Memokeeper just to retrieve Catherine's existence even though his opinion about her might be already distorted now.

Ishmael: Her color palette is supposed to symbolize sunset (orange + purple + blue) though I must admit seeing her without blue and teal is weird but since she's a space sailor, I guess it fits too. Her ship crew worked as void song whale hunters at first only to encounter Leviathan and stuck in IX's shadow, leaving her as the sole survivor. The jacket is supposed to symbolize IX since she's IX's shadow now. Other symbols that can be found in her design are stars (especially polaris and ursa minor constellation) since they are usually used as compass for sailors.

Also a sketch of Hong Lu as Imbibitor Lunae for bonus as what if scenario

[so-i-macedup-abit]

[squoobest]

artfight week 1 - nebula

a collection of attacks i really like! these were super fun to do ^^

characters (in order of images)

sally - @lilygeb

flutter - @stuffedsand

ayaka (ft. daichi) - @st4rryshy

sheldon - @aguacatemole

[connormoving]

i think itis funny in the past when i would list my interests as if i post abt them i donot post abt the shit im into rly Mainly bc im not rly Into Into anything anymore i occasionally watch or read or play something but i dont do fandom stuff rly much.... just sometimes i get brainworms

[luckyofthelawnvariety]

I've finished Etho's s7 hermitcraft so guess who's back with a slightly updated/slightly consolidated list of things about ethoslab I have noticed! or just enjoy!

(the previous list)

I have no idea when he learned to noteblock. I don't know if he knows. he knows how to noteblock tho. he's really good at it.

on that note, did you know that there is not a single piece of non-noteblock music in etho's s7 after the first episode? there might not even be any in the first episode. every single timelapse or montage is set to noteblock music

(he sang along to parts of his paper planes noteblock cover too. he was going shopping. I was entirely too delighted)

(also, there is some like...sitcom music theme that I don't know what show it's from. it's bothering me that I don't know. what you need to know is that throughout his s7 etho uses said sitcom theme as the transition before Shenanigans With Fellow Hermits clips play. his life is a sitcom. yes it is the noteblock version.)

I think that etho desperately needs minigames for enrichment. if he's not playing one he's working on one. he needs them and he will let them completely consume his life

the etho decked out 1 runs are hilarious, partially because it's funny to see him play it and realize how absolutely insane decked out 2 is, and how much of a madlad tango is. etho is still the same menace with great luck and skills. I had forgotten about the hole to the void in the middle out decked out 1 tho, that was a fun reminder

etho could make a career out of translating classic type games into minecraft. he kind of has, but it's a pattern.

he also keeps coming up with new games that are minecraft only and is good at figuring out how to balance them well.

again, king of minigames. he will in fact analyze them as much as possible. he caught on to the pattern of impulse's whack a mole game in like...2 rounds? maybe 3? he's good at pattern recognition and will put it to good use no matter the minigame

etho, I cannot stress this enough, is a little shit and enjoys being such. free glass is obviously an iconic moment, but I had forgotten about him scamming scar out of diamonds for "information" about the resistance, or about sneak-e-e's business model (you can't tax what you can't find!), or about how he kept being extremely ridiculous with beef in regards to record shop payments...the list goes on

etho is also very competitive. I mentioned this in the last list, but man...he joins like every single competition he can. he wants to win. he's not like, a sore loser, but he likes to win, and he'll get a little upset if he doesn't.

etho and beef have clearly known each other a long time and ngl I miss their interactions a bit. let them bother each other a bit more please. I want to see them trying to kill each other in ridiculous ways again please. or doing minigames together. they're so silly.

kind of similar, but etho loves getting a rise out of people and it is the best thing ever actually. it's fun watching him use dirty tricks to beat bdubs to sleeping for a prize. it's perfect actually.

that being said, I still really like when etho is just on his own working on stuff too. s7 has a lot of moments where etho will go "I'm gonna use this block palette!" and I will think "bro that's ugly" and then he will make an extremely cohesive build that I want to live in out of it. I think a good way to describe it is that for example bdubs is really good at detailed builds with texture and not much color, and a very realistic twist to them. etho is not afraid to use color at all, and embraces how the colors can work together or contrast. it's fascinating to watch and I love it.

he is also a redstone genius. I feel I am starting to understand how some things with redstone work. could I design something myself? absolutely not but I could work from a tutorial and not feel completely lost on why I have to use a dispenser and not a dropper now.

I think s7 etho is really experimenting a lot with style and how he wants to do things. he does a few more elaborate intros, for example, that are very planned out, but he also does a lot of the classic "hello everybody this is etho and welcome back to hermitcraft!" it's fun and it works, but I honestly feel he might be more confident in some ways now in s10, which is nice to see.

(side note—I think etho has some trouble with tone sometimes, where he really wants to make sure everyone's having a good time, but also he really wants to tease people. this works well with like Beef, who he's known a while, but especially in people he's known less he's quick to catch on if they take what he's saying too seriously, and clarify that he is teasing. it's nice to see tbh, just the clarity even with his audience)

speaking of llamas, I had not realized how recent some really big updates were. bamboo and pandas were new at the start of s7. the nether update came like halfway through?? I was more in the casual build side of mcyt at the time but man...I didn't realize how crazy that is to think about.

just...the way that etho visualizes builds is great. not just like, leaving space for farms, but filling in the spaces with a lot of details that make sense but also work with the space to cover anything it needs to AND to connect with the rest of the base. the sightlines thing is something I see a lot of other builders using but etho really uses them a lot in the Monstrosity in order to keep it from being Too Much as you walk through.

really just...he wants to have fun, and he wants to learn, and he wants to experiment and figure things out. if he can mess with some friends when he does it, that's a great bonus, yknow?

man. what a guy.

[meanbossart]

Do you have any advice for people looking to learn how to do color like you? I've been drawing for nearly 13 years but I've never been good with color and feel like my pieces always look rather over blended or that I can't pick good color pallettes.

Just to preface: coloring was fairly new to me just up until recently. I've always done color here and there but it was never my favorite (I very much felt like I had the same problem you're describing) and for a long time my style was largely based around grayscale because of it. When I started doing BG3 art it kind of felt like a necessity to learn, though, since its such a colorful game. So, take my advice with a grain of salt!

My biggest struggle with color was that the style I wanted to do never seemed to match my lineart. I eventually realized that was because my style itself wasn't done with color in mind at all - like I mentioned above, I mostly did grayscale and let the linework carry the art entirely. This also skewed the way I distributed my efforts; I would get really exact and over-detail things with the lineart like I was used to doing, and then felt like I also had to overdo the coloring as well, because the slightly "rougher" rendering I was striving for didn't seem to match the style.

The solution I arrived at was changing the way I approach lineart entirely, purposefully making it sketchier and less "exact", not letting myself be boggled down with details. In this way, I feel like I have far more freedom in how I apply colors and approach the rendering. It has also been extremely beneficial to learn how to push simplification (both in regards to lines AND color) as far as I can before the art stops looking good to me, and that has allowed me to backtrack into more detail again while feeling far more in control of their application. The more you breach out and experiment, the more ways you will have to approach your work when you feel as if you've hit a wall.

Obviously, I don't know if any of this applies to you 😅 but it's info that's been super valuable for me to realize.

Something else that might help is hunting down for tools that don't let you be precise - staying away from sharp liners and brushes and picking stuff that looks more graphical.

Also, not letting yourself zoom into your work too much so you're forced to achieve the shapes you're trying to achieve with rougher strokes and lines, and hence avoiding overworking small details that will ultimately get lost in the final picture anyway.

And assuming you have a good grasp on the basics - put a cap on your rendering time. Try drawing as fast as possible so you're forced to look for alternative solutions for making stuff look good without spending days on it. (I do NOT suggest doing this regularly if you're just starting off learning things like anatomy and perspective though; take your time!)

As for color palettes - I feel like I have a horrible eye for color LOL so I can't offer much wisdom there. I will often be adjusting hues and depth well into the finalization of the piece and ultimately just throw my hands up and say GOOD ENOUGH before sending it off. Taking breaks from looking at the screen so you can take it in with slightly fresher eyes tends to help me, though.

[thoughtfulfiction]

Balancing Acts

Author’s Note: Anon requested this over a year ago but better late than never?

A Midsummer Night's Dream.

Some might think it too 'in your face' or 'overplayed’. They might think it too safe for a show meant to inspire awe. But to you, it seemed...right. A garden brimming with flowers and mystical creatures, tangled in romance and mischief. There's passion in it. It’s bold and colorful and…unpredictable. It's the kind of story that makes your heart beat faster, where danger dances with desire, and the outcome is never quite certain.

That’s what you wanted to capture.

Your job was simple in theory, but far from easy in practice. Research the concept, shape it into an immersive visual experience, and curate pieces that would breathe life into your chosen theme. Find artists who understood the delicate balance of whimsy and chaos, match their works with complementary pieces, and then somehow make it all flow together in a space big enough to handle the magic. Coordinate transportation. Manage fragile egos. Decide what would be shipped to the gallery in Los Angeles to stay and commemorate the moment and what would be auctioned off at a later date.

This project was your baby, your first real chance to prove yourself, not just as an art curator but as a leader. Your team here in Oregon was counting on you. There was no way you weren't about to pour every ounce of yourself into this opportunity.

Justin understood that. He always had.

He admired the fire in you, the way you threw yourself into your work with the same relentless focus he brought to football. That was what drew him in the most, the hunger you both carried. The belief that success didn’t just happen; it had to be earned. He loved that you didn’t need him to rearrange his life for you, that you both had your own ambitions but still chose to carve out time for each other because you wanted to.

It worked...until it didn’t.

During the season, your busy schedules had made your moments together feel sacred. When time was scarce, it felt precious. But now? Now that the season was over and Justin had more free time than he knew what to do with, that perfect balance you’d once found seemed to be slipping. While he was filling his days with extra workouts and deep dives into film, you were drowning in meetings, mood boards, and late-night calls with artists across the country.

You both knew what dedication looked like—but knowing didn’t make it any easier.

The arguments started small.

The bathroom light was still on when Justin walked past, and he stopped in the doorway. Your makeup bag was sprawled across the counter. Various brushes, palettes, and bottles of miscellaneous products sprawled out like you’d abandoned them mid-routine.

"Seriously?" Justin muttered to himself.

He turned off the light and walked downstairs, trying to shake the irritation. But then he saw your carry-on bag, the same one you’d left by the door three days ago, still sitting there like an afterthought.

He rubbed his hand down his face and exhaled sharply.

"Hey," he called out, louder than necessary.

You were at the dining table, laptop open again. Of course.

"What’s up?" you asked distractedly, barely looking up from your screen.

"Your bag’s still by the door," Justin said, forcing his voice to stay calm. "Can you just... take it upstairs or something?"

"I will," you mumbled, typing away.

He waited, but you didn’t move.

"And maybe put your makeup away too?" His voice had a sharper edge this time. "The counter’s a mess."

That made you pause. You blinked up at him, eyebrows pinching together.

"I said I’d get to it."

"Yeah, but you’ve been saying that since Monday," Justin shot back. "It’s not that hard to just put your stuff away when you’re done."

Your mouth opened like you were about to argue, but instead, you closed your laptop with more force than necessary.

"I’m sorry I didn’t have time to deep clean the house between meetings and emails and, oh yeah, trying to keep my career from falling apart," you snapped.

Justin’s jaw tightened. "That’s not what I’m saying."

"Isn’t it?" You stood up, crossing your arms. "Because it feels like you’ve got some things to say about everything I do...or don’t do."

"Maybe because it feels like I’m living with a toddler right now," Justin shot back, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. "It wouldn’t kill you to put your stuff away instead of waiting for me to nag. Just—” he paused, trying to collect himself. “Did you realize this is our first conversation we’ve had all week that didn’t include you cutting it short because you’re too busy? Almost forgot what your voice even sounds like.”

Your face softened for a second, like you might let the frustration slip away... but then your shoulders squared again.

"I’m trying my best, Justin."

"Yeah?" His tone a bit dismissive. "Because right now, it kinda feels like I’m the only one who still cares."

The silence that followed was thick and heavy, not angry, just…hollow.

"Right, ok I’ll just move the bag," you said quietly before walking upstairs, your footsteps fading one by one.

Justin stood there for a moment, staring at the spot where your bag had been, frustration still simmering in his chest—but beneath it, the loneliness started to creep in.

You solved the problem a hour later, uttering out a hushed apology hugging him from behind, feeling the tension rapidly ease from him.

For a few days things felt normal again, you were still busy but more present.

Dinners were less rushed, and Justin caught glimpses of the girl he’d fallen for, the one who asked about his workouts and teased him about his endless devotion to studying film. He didn’t mind when you worked late a few nights that week because when you were home, you were with him, stealing fries off his plate, or pausing in the hallway just to kiss him before heading upstairs.

Tiny but meaningful reminders that you were still with him even though you were drowning in work.

But then, the late nights crept back in. The unanswered texts. The quiet moments that used to feel warm now felt empty...again.

The living room was quiet except for the low hum of the TV. Justin shifted on the couch, glancing over at you. You were curled up on the far end, legs tucked beneath you, laptop balanced on your knees. The soft glow from the screen reflected off your face, your fingers tapping rhythmically on the keyboard.

He waited a moment, watching you, hoping you’d close it soon.

You didn’t, so he cleared his throat to get your attention.

"What are you working on?" he asked, voice low.

"Just some research." You didn’t look up.

Justin let his eyes linger on you, waiting for you to close the laptop or at least turn his way. Normally, by this time of night, you’d be tucked into his side, your head resting against his shoulder. He’d have an arm draped around you, explaining some new defensive scheme he was learning, not that you really cared about football strategy, but you always listened, always asked questions. Then, when it was your turn, you’d ramble on about artists he’d never heard of, painting vivid pictures with your words until the names started to blur together. He never minded. You could’ve been reading a thesaurus and he’d still hang onto every word.

That felt like a lifetime ago.

Justin’s fingers tapped restlessly against his thigh. He turned back to the TV, barely processing the basketball game playing on the screen. After a few minutes, he tried again.

"Hey...you wanna turn that off soon? Maybe put on a movie or something?"

"I can’t right now," you murmured. "I’ve still got a few more things to look through."

He swallowed the sigh threatening to rise. A few more things. That’s what you’d said last night—and the night before that.

"Yeah... okay." His voice came out flat.

You didn’t notice. Or if you did, you didn’t say anything.

Justin shifted again, settling deeper into the cushions, but it didn’t help. The couch felt too big tonight. He swallowed down the ache that had been building for a few days and tried again the next night.

"I was thinking about redoing the patio," Justin said, his voice casual but hopeful.

You were lounging on the corner of the couch, scrolling through your phone, half-listening.

"Hmm?" you murmured, barely glancing up.

Justin shifted in his seat, leaning forward slightly. "Yeah, like maybe adding one of those fire pits? And some string lights across the posts, make it feel more...I don't know...cozy or something."

"Mmm...yeah, that sounds nice." Your thumb kept swiping.

Justin pressed his lips together, trying not to get annoyed.

"I found this video where they built this whole setup with built-in seating, and I figured I could probably knock it out in a couple of weeks," he went on, searching for some kind of reaction. "Might even try staining the deck, too. I was thinking—"

He stopped mid-sentence.

You were still scrolling, eyes flicking across the screen. You nodded like you’d heard him, but your focus was somewhere else entirely.

Justin waited a beat longer, hoping you’d look up, knowing you wouldn't.

"Never mind," he muttered.

"Hmm? What?" Your head lifted slightly, like you were only just registering that he’d stopped talking.

"Nothing," Justin said, forcing a tight smile. "It’s not important."

"Okay." You went right back to your phone.

Justin sat back against the couch, staring at the TV—but his mind wasn’t on the screen.

A few months ago, you would’ve put your phone down. You would’ve asked a dozen questions, what color stain he was thinking of, what kind of fire pit he wanted, maybe even teased him about turning into a handyman.

Now? It felt like you were a million miles away.

He had to say something. He had to do something before all that was left of the relationship was a few distant memories and penciling each other into calendars like you were distant strangers.

Justin wanted to be surprised when he pulled into the garage and the lights were off because you weren’t home yet. He wanted his feelings to be hurt less than they were, to be less emotionally invested in you—but here he was, ready to try again, continuously feeling like you were emotionally checked out until your project was over.

He sighed, tossing his keys onto the counter and toeing off his sneakers. The house felt cold, too quiet—like no one had really lived in it for weeks.

"This isn’t how it’s supposed to be," he muttered under his breath, raking a hand through his hair.

Then—

"SURPRISE!"

Justin flinched as the lights burst to life, a chorus of voices filling the room. His eyes widened as familiar faces emerged from the crowd—Charlie, Tate and Jackson—even some friends from Sheldon who rarely made it out this way.

Confetti fluttered through the air, laughter spilling from the corners of the room. His heart was still hammering in his chest when you stepped forward, grinning wide.

"You knew I’d hate this," Justin said, his voice caught between shock and amusement.

"I know," you laughed. "But you deserve it. You’re lucky I didn’t make you wear a birthday pin."

Justin exhaled, finally taking it all in — the decorations strung carefully along the walls, photos of the two of you pinned to a board near the kitchen, and the unmistakable scent of his mom’s chocolate chip cookies lingering in the air.

"I…" he started, shaking his head as he looked around. He’d already greeted half the room, yet somehow still felt overwhelmed. "I don't even know what to say. Where did everyone even park? I didn’t see any cars outside."

You smiled proudly. "Made everyone park out back. Couldn't risk my surprise being ruined."

You took a step closer, sliding your arms around his waist. Justin hesitated for a second — not out of anger, but out of disbelief that you’d pulled this off when you were the busiest you’ve ever been.

"Happy birthday, baby," you whispered against his chest.

For a moment, Justin didn’t say anything—just held you tighter, pressing his face into your hair. The tension that had been building for weeks seemed to melt away, leaving something familiar in its place. This was exactly what he needed and he could cry at knowing that you knew that and did everything you could to give it to him.

"You’re impossible," he murmured, but there was no bite to it, just relief.

"You love it."

"I love you," he corrected, grabbing your hand and leading you to his friends so you can explain in vivid detail how you managed all of this without him catching on.

The morning light filtered softly through the windows, casting a warm glow across the kitchen. Justin stood at the counter, sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a streak of flour dusting his forearm. You were perched on the opposite side, aggressively scraping the last bit of cream cheese frosting from the mixing bowl with a spatula.

"Hey," Justin protested, reaching for the bowl. "We still need some of that for the cake."

You dodged his grab, licking a dollop of frosting from your finger. "Relax, baker boy, there’s still plenty."

"Yeah, plenty in your mouth," he shot back, grabbing your wrist with one hand and swiping frosting onto your cheek with the other.

You let out an indignant gasp before lunging for him, but Justin laughed and held you off with one arm, the other steadying the mixing bowl.

"Okay, okay!" you surrendered, giggling breathlessly. "Truce!"

He grinned, leaning in to kiss the frosting off your cheek.

By the time the cake was in the oven, slightly lopsided but full of love, you were both sprawled out on the couch in your pajamas, wrapped in blankets, a half-eaten bowl of popcorn between you. Inception was playing, but neither of you were fully committed to following the plot. Justin could probably quote the entire movie from memory.

"So," he murmured, his head resting against the back of the couch, "the baby ducks should be here in a few days."

You turned your head to look at him, smiling softly. "You ready for them?"

He nodded proudly. "Everything’s set — heat lamp’s on, bedding’s down. I even read that if you talk to them a lot when they’re little, they’ll follow you everywhere."

"Great," you teased. "We’ll have a trail of fluffballs running after you like you’re some kind of duck whisperer."

Justin’s face lit up. "Yeah, well, I’m gonna be their favorite. You’re just gonna be ‘that lady.’"

"Please," you shot back, grinning. "I give it two days before they’re imprinted on me instead."

He hummed thoughtfully, then added, "I read they like warm baths, too. Oh, and they have this little happy noise they make when they’re comfortable, kind of like a soft whistle—"

You blinked at him. "Okay, Phil Dunphy."

Justin’s head shot up in mock offense. "Don’t talk about our children like that."

You burst out laughing, wrapping your arm around his and tilting your head up to kiss him. It was almost scary how seamlessly you two fell back into your normal, cozy routine.

As the credits rolled, Justin shifted to face you. "Hey...what if we do something special the night before your art show?"

You glanced up at him curiously.

"I'll hire a private chef," he said, his voice warm and hopeful. "Just the two of us—fancy dinner, good wine, the whole thing. Relax a bit the night before it gets crazy."

Your heart swelled. "You don’t have to do that.”

"I want to," Justin said firmly. "You've been working your tail off, we should celebrate your big break. Just the two of us."

You nodded, smiling as you reached for his hand. "I can’t wait."

"Me neither," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You sighed happily, your fingers lacing through his. "I don’t deserve you."

Justin shook his head. "You’re stuck with me anyway."

The week flew by in a blur — a whirlwind of emails, late-night revisions, and endless checklists. The power suit collection in your closet was really running low.

You barely remembered what day it was anymore. The guest list was finalized after hours of combing through names and double-checking RSVPs. Each piece had been meticulously positioned in the gallery, sculptures casting dramatic shadows across the walls while delicate paintings softened the space. The fountain, the centerpiece of your entire vision, now flowed beautifully, light dancing off the rippling water and making the entire room feel like Shakespeare's words come to life.

It was perfect.

"We did it," you breathed, standing beside your team in the gallery’s dim light.

"We deserve a drink or something," a coworker suggested, and you didn’t hesitate.

One drink turned into two. Two turned into lingering conversation about favorite exhibits and upcoming projects, the kind of easy bonding you’d been too busy to enjoy lately. It felt good. Like you could finally breathe.

But when you pulled your phone from your purse, your stomach dropped.

9:42 p.m.

"Shit," you muttered under your breath, scrambling to gather your things. Justin’s dinner.

You’d forgotten.

The pit in your stomach only grew heavier as you speed-dialed him, the phone ringing and ringing before finally going to voicemail.

"Hey. I’m so sorry. I lost track of time, but I’m on my way now. Please just—please wait for me."

Quickly ended the call, you shoved your phone back in your bag as you hurried out the door. The cold air hit you in the face like a slap—sharp and biting—and you couldn’t help but feel like you deserved it.

You stumbled through the front door, breathless and still slightly chilled from the night air. The house was quiet — eerily so. No sounds from the kitchen, no clatter of dishes or low conversation from the chef Justin had hired. Your eyes landed on the dining room, and your stomach twisted painfully.

The table was still set. Candles flickered softly, their wax dripping down in delicate rivulets. Plates were arranged neatly with silverware untouched. A bottle of wine—unopened—sat between two glasses. Justin was there, too, slouched back in his chair with his arms crossed tightly over his chest.

He didn’t look at you when you walked in.

"Justin..." Your voice wavered as you stepped closer. "I’m so sorry. I—I lost track of time, and—"

"Yeah," he cut in flatly. His eyes flicked up to you then, sharp, tired, and unmistakably hurt. "I figured."

You swallowed hard, guilt swelling inside you. "I should’ve texted you. I should’ve checked my phone or set an alarm or something. I just...I got caught up, and I didn’t mean to—"

"You didn’t mean to," Justin repeated, shaking his head bitterly. "Yeah, I know. But you always ‘didn’t mean to.’"

You opened your mouth to argue, but nothing came out. Because he wasn’t wrong.

"I waited," Justin said, his voice quieter now, but somehow heavier. "I sat here for almost an hour hoping you’d walk in any second. The chef packed everything up and left, and I...I didn’t even know what to tell him." He exhaled sharply, dragging a hand down his face. "I can’t keep feeling like this — like I’m some afterthought you’ll get around to whenever you remember."

"That’s not fair," you said quickly, stepping closer. "You know how important this show is to me, I’ve been working for this for so long—“

"I know," he snapped, his voice sharper than before. "I know you’re busy. I know this project means everything to you. But dammit, I’m trying. I’m trying to be patient, to be understanding, but it feels like I’m just...just waiting around for you to have time for me."

"That’s not true. I promise it’s not.”

"Isn’t it?" His voice cracked just slightly, frustration transforming into hurt and disappointment. "You’re never home. You miss things you used to care about. I mean...hell, you couldn’t even set an alarm or check your phone tonight so I wouldn’t sit here like an idiot waiting for you to show up."

You blinked hard, heat rising behind your eyes. "I am so unbelievably sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you."

"But you did." Justin shook his head, pushing back from the table with a scrape of the chair legs. "And I can’t keep being the only one fighting for this."

Your breath caught. "That’s not fair," you said again, but your voice cracked this time.

"It’s exactly fair," he shot back. "I’ve been here, waiting, adjusting, giving you space. And I’m still the one left sitting at the table alone."

You sighed, trying to tamp down the irritation simmering beneath your guilt. "Yes, okay, you're right. I'm really sorry I'm so late. And I get it—you have every right to be upset. I fucked up. I admit that. But I’m usually the one waiting for you. It’s usually me sitting at the table alone.”

"What are you talking about?"

"Football season?" Your voice wavered, a little more frustration bleeding in. "How many dates have we canceled? Or ones that you literally just forgot about? Things that I want to do with you, but I have to wait until the offseason when it’s more ideal. I'm usually the one adjusting to your schedule, bending over backwards to adjust and yes, I knew what I signed up for—but I’m not gonna let you make me feel like shit when you do the same thing."

Justin’s face twisted, defensive and stubborn. "That’s different."

"Different?" Your voice rose. "How exactly?"

"Because I get paid an absurd amount of money to play football," he shot back.

For a moment, you just stared at him, disbelief washing over you. "Wow," you said quietly, your voice hollow. "So because I’m not a millionaire with endorsements, my job doesn’t matter?"

"That’s not what I meant," Justin said quickly, but you were already reeling. His words felt like a gut punch—not because you thought he believed that, but because it had been too easy for him to say it.

"It must be so hard to handle it when the world doesn’t revolve around your schedule? Right, QB1?” You utter slowly, lashing out at him like he’d just done to you. “Not everything is happening the way Justin wants it to so he's mad. But hey, you're a multi millionaire so it's fine. Right? I'll just take myself and my unimportant job with an insufficient salary and sleep in the guest room tonight." You bit out, voice shaking.

Justin’s jaw tensed. "Don’t do that."

"Do what?" you shot back, bitterness spilling out. "Call you out for acting like I’m supposed to drop everything just because you suddenly have free time?" You let out a short, humorless laugh. "You don’t get to act like I’m selfish just because I’m asking for a little bit of the same grace I give you all the time."

"You stood me up," Justin said tightly.

“And I apologized! Multiple times.”

He sighs, knowing this conversation should end but not knowing how he wants to end it. “So I’m supposed to just forgive you as soon as you say I’m sorry because you want me to make you feel better? I don’t think that’s very fair.”

"Neither is you acting like my job is just some hobby," you countered, your voice quieter now but trembling with frustration. "I love what I do. And I thought you did too."

Justin scrubbed a hand down his face. He didn’t have a comeback this time. Instead, he exhaled a sharp breath and muttered, "I just...I just miss you."

Your chest ached.

"I miss you too," you admitted softly.

But neither of you moved. Justin stood near the counter, arms crossed like armor, and you stood by the door, clutching your bag like a shield. The space between you felt heavier than it ever had before.

"I'm going to sleep," you said quietly, your voice strained. "Long day tomorrow."

He nodded, but didn’t respond. Too many emotions tangled in his head—anger, exhaustion and there was this ache in his bones that felt a little too close to heartbreak for his liking. The two of you rarely fought but this felt like popping a stitch post surgery. Everything was bleeding and he didn’t have a bandaid big enough to stop it. He’d already put his foot in his mouth once tonight, and pushing more words out felt like stepping on thin ice. Maybe giving you space was the safest option.

You didn’t look back. The sound of your footsteps fading down the hall felt louder than anything else in the room. Justin stayed at the table long after you were gone—staring at the untouched place settings, the empty wine glasses, the flickering candle that had burned halfway down.

He thought about blowing it out, ending the night for good but something stopped him. Instead, he let it burn a little longer, just in case you changed your mind and came back.

The gallery was breathtaking, exactly how you’d imagined it. The air smelled faintly of fresh grass and wildflowers, thanks to the indoor garden exhibit that stretched along the far wall. Real grass lined the floor, soft and cool beneath guests’ shoes. Vibrant blooms—deep purple foxgloves, bright yellow primroses, delicate white baby’s breath—spilled from carefully arranged beds. Guests wandered through the space, running their fingers along petals and stems, murmuring in awe at the tangible beauty of it all.

Nearby, a towering fairy sculpture commanded attention. Sculpted from twisted metal vines and glass wings that shimmered under soft lighting, she looked like she could spring to life at any moment. She stood at the heart of the exhibit, arms outstretched as if casting a spell over the enchanted garden.

Paintings framed the walls, some bold and chaotic, bursting with color and motion; others soft and dreamlike, capturing tender moments frozen in time. A large mural stretched across one wall—Titania and Oberon entwined in a dance of power and passion, their figures bathed in hues of gold and silver. The entire space felt like stepping inside A Midsummer Night’s Dream—ethereal, magical, and intoxicating.

Your boyfriend's family had shown up in full support. His parents admired the sculptures, his mother pointing out details with genuine excitement. His brothers Mitch and Patrick lingered near the drink station, sipping glasses of wine while greeting guests with warm smiles.

Justin stood beside you through most of the evening, stood being the key word. No casual arm around your waist. No fingertips grazing your back like they usually did. When guests stopped to compliment you, he smiled and congratulated you but his voice was clipped, his eyes distant. The tension between you hung thick in the air, impossible to ignore.

When his hand brushed yours at one point, you both instinctively pulled away as if burned.

Patrick noticed.

A little later, Patrick found Justin near the back of the room, pretending to study one of the paintings.

"Alright," Patrick said, crossing his arms. "What’s going on?"

"Nothing," Justin muttered.

"Yeah, right." Patrick took a sip of his drink. "You and her are acting like two people who just finalized their divorce and are pretending to be civil for the sake of the kids."

Justin huffed out a bitter laugh. "It's fine. Just... had a fight."

Patrick’s brow lifted. "Okay. About what?"

Justin hesitated, but Patrick wasn’t about to let him off the hook. His little brother had never been one for subtlety.

"Justin." His voice firm now.

"She was late to dinner last night," Justin said finally. "I planned this whole thing — private chef, the works and she just...forgot." He shook his head, frustration flickering again. "I waited for almost an hour. It felt like I didn’t even matter."

Patrick didn’t say anything at first, just stared at his brother like he was trying to piece something together.

"Look, I get why you're mad," Patrick said slowly. "But... you're not just pissed at her. You're pissed at yourself."

Justin blinked. "What? No. I—"

"Yes, you are." Patrick cut him off. "You’re dating a workaholic, Justin. And guess what? You’re a workaholic too. So last night?" He gestured vaguely. "That’s how she feels for six months out of the year. At least. And you know what? She never throws it in your face. Never makes you feel like crap for being too busy. And she still chooses you, every single day."

Justin swallowed hard, his eyes shifting back toward you across the room. You were laughing politely at something one of the guests had said, but your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes.

"So yeah," Patrick continued. "She’s been busy lately, and yeah, maybe she’s been a little distant —but can you really blame her for being the thing she’s always been? The thing that attracted you to her the most in the first place? You wanted someone with their own career and their own ambitions and life goals too, remember? Now that you have it, you gotta learn give and take. Yes, being stood up sucks, but look at the masterpiece she created. She supports you in the stands every Sunday and now you get to show up for her big game. It may not look exactly the way you pictured it,” he nudged him after his play on words and Justin hates that he laughed. “But this is the life you said you’ve always wanted. And the person you’ve always wanted to live it with.”

Justin let out a long breath, feeling that tight knot of anger slowly start to unravel and he felt something else entirely, guilt and regret.

"I’m a hypocrite," Justin said quietly. “I messed up.”

"Then fix it," Patrick said simply. "Don’t let your pride make you screw this up."

Justin didn’t answer. He just stood there, watching you from across the room looking beautiful, exhausted, and so far away.

The energy in the gallery buzzed as guests mingled, glasses clinking and quiet conversations filling the air. The night was building toward your speech, the moment you’d worked so hard for. But as you stood near the back, trying to gather your thoughts, you felt a familiar hand on your elbow.

“Hey,” Justin said quietly.

You turned, surprised to see him standing so close. His expression was softer than it had been all night—less guarded, less angry—and something in your chest tightened.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

You glanced toward the small stage where your microphone waited, then back at him. “Yeah,” you said, voice barely above a whisper.

He guided you to a quieter corner near the garden exhibit. The soft glow of the fairy sculpture bathed you both in gold and silver light, flickering off Justin’s tired eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice low but firm. “For last night...for how I acted...for making you feel like your work doesn’t matter.” He shook his head. “That was...that was messed up, and I knew it the second I said it.”

You swallowed hard, heart aching. “I’m sorry too,” you said quickly. “Not just for last night, but...for a lot of things. For being distracted, for not being around, for leaving my stuff everywhere and acting like I didn’t hear you when you were trying to talk about the patio.”

“You... you heard that?” he asked, surprised.

“Of course I did.” You gave a small, tired smile. “I know you want to put in a fire pit and string lights across the posts. I know you’ve been researching ways to keep the baby ducks warm and reading up on all the best practices. I know you’ve been trying, Justin.” Your voice wavered. “Even when I’ve been too busy to show it... I’ve been paying attention. I always pay attention.”

Justin exhaled, the tension in his shoulders finally easing. “I was just...I don’t know. I was mad—but I was also hurt. And I guess...embarrassed. Like, what kind of guy throws himself a pity party because his girlfriend had an important work thing?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I ruined your night.”

“You didn’t,” you said softly. “You didn’t ruin anything. The fact that you’re here tonight... that’s what matters to me.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The warmth of his hand found yours, his fingers threading through yours like they always did and you swore the Earth was healing.

“You know,” you said, your voice soft but steady, “my favorite thing about you has always been how driven you are. How dedicated you are to being the best quarterback, the best teammate, the best leader you can be.” You squeezed his hand. “You’re the blueprint, baby.”

Justin smiled—not his usual grin, but one that radiated gratitude and joy in its most pure form.

“Thank you for always being patient with me. And,” he murmured, “you were QB1 this week. Seriously...I’ve never seen a more clutch performance.” He smirked. “Might have to watch your film—learn a thing or two.”

You laughed, for the first time in what felt like weeks, and Justin leaned in, pressing his lips softly to yours. The kiss was warm, light, and grounding, like finding your way home after being lost.

“You’ve got this,” he said quietly when he pulled back. “I’ll be right here.”

Moments later, you stood in front of the room, microphone in hand.

“Thank you all so much for being here tonight,” you began, voice steady despite the emotions swirling inside you. “This project has been one of the hardest things I’ve ever done, but also one of the most rewarding.”

You paused, glancing out at the crowd. Your parents stood proudly near the front, and beside them, Justin watched you with that familiar look, the one that said he was proud of you and would be right there to cheer you on no matter what.

“I want to thank my incredible team for bringing this vision to life,” you continued. “I want to thank my friends and my family for believing in me, even on the days I didn’t believe in myself.” Your eyes found Justin again. “And I especially want to thank my partner. Because his work ethic is a work of art—and he inspires me every single day.”

Justin’s smile stretched wide, and this time, you let your gaze linger, a quiet promise passing between you.

You were both still learning, still figuring out how to meet each other in the middle. How to find that delicate work-life balance and still make each other a priority. But tonight? The middle wasn’t so bad.

[divine-crows]

🎨✨️Art Magic✨️🎨

Uses, Forms of it, and Why I Think Everyone Should Try it at Least Once.

Foreword

Right before the COVID-19 pandemic hit, I had been trying and failing to rekindle my flame for magic work. No matter what I tried to do I just couldn't get back into my studies and I was reaching a point where I was convinced I lost my spark and was doomed to live an empty life. Then it all changed when a YouTube Channel challenged how I thought about everything: Molly Roberts. That's when I was opened to the possibility of art magic, and I'll now share my love of it with anyone willing to read on.

What Is Art Magic?

A means to utilize art for spellwork, raising magical energy, or for exploring your magical subconscious. It encapsulates multiple different types of art and is generally not confined by conventional expectation (unless that's what you prefer).

You can utilize art magic by. . .

Using traditional art methods

Digital art methods

Collages

Music composition

Jewelry making

Embroidery

And much more!

How do I know if Art Magic is Suitable for Me?

There isn't a specific thing that'll indicate this form of magic is perfect for you, however I have some anecdotes from my personal experience as both a witch, and a regular artist that form a sort of idea on what could denote this being perfect for you!

First off, craving freedom from personal restraints was a big factor that pushed me towards blending my craft with my passion for art. If you want to run from the monotony of life, if you feel trapped by the social construction of boxes, or if you simply want to challenge your own mental restraints... then this idea might resonate with you.

Challenging yourself with a new form of magic, similarly, can also be a good enough reason to try. I'm the type of person who loves to constantly learn new things and I unfortunately get bored really quickly if I can't get new source materials. Using Art Magic has proven a fun challenge for me that allows me to explore a lot more topics you can't just open a book to find.

For those that may not be able to safely perform a lot of traditional style spells, this form of magic provides a discreet way to practice witchcraft. Most people wouldn't really question someone if they picked up the hobby of making art, and even if they did there's plenty of reasonable excuses out there.

How you prefer your spells to manifest themselves can also affect if this journey is a good idea or not. I find that Art Magic is really good when it comes to subtle spellwork that is more longform (though depending on how you construct them you can definitely create a spell that's the opposite).

Catalog aspects of your magical journey. Imagine a grimoire filled with pages of drawings, each one telling a story of something you experienced or learned as a witch. This especially may be more beneficial for visual learners.

You could use it as a means of meditation, sometimes art can be calming and it can open the door to your mind (so-to-speak). Especially if you're like me and struggle with staying completely still while trying to clear your mind, this may be helpful for you.

Trying to better understand archetypes, deities, types of entities, or even your own self can also be a big part of this. I've used art magic as a way to embody the "energy" of something before so I could better understand it. Especially when you're trying to seek knowledge that isn't often written on, it can provide a great way to explore more.

How Can I perform an Art Spell?

I have a step-by-step process that can give you some insight on how you may approach it:

1) Think of the intention you want. I like to close my eyes and meditate on it for about a minute then I write down if my mind wandered to any specific imagery or ideas.

2) Think of visual symbolism and colors that can help you capture the mood you want. Perhaps you need a warm color palette to invoke positive feelings, or maybe there are specific objects or animals you can include on the composition that represent something.

3) If you feel it fits your composition, you can include sigils, symbols of significance, and include shapes that have certain associations. It doesn't even have to be obvious either. You can use a circular composition to convey something endless for example, or a triangular composition to show priority over something.

4) In general follow what your heart tells you. This is a little cliche, but ultimately follow what seems best to you. Art isn't about boxing yourself in and my guidelines are just general ideas for anyone who's lost!

Why do I think that everyone should try it at least once?

From my experiences as a witch, I find that a lot of paths to be followed are quite rigid. By no means am I implying that a rigid structure is bad-- it creates a foundation from which we can work upon. I myself am exploring rigid, 'traditional' (for lack of a better term) ways of working magic. Art magic pushes you out of your comfort zone in a safe way. It makes you consider how you associate things. It makes you create new sigils and makes you research new symbols you previously wouldn't have used.

So next time you're lost on a spell, or you've lost your way in your Craft and you don't know what to do, think about maybe giving Art Magic a try. I hope my guide was a helpful starting point for anyone interested in the topic!

[qwanderer]

Experimenting with handpicked gif palettes. This is a 15 color palette, but looks nothing like the auto-generated "optimum" palette from the same source file does:

because the algorithm isn't prioritizing the same things I would prioritize. It just wants to keep everything as close as possible to the original colors. That sounds good, sure, but at 15 colors it doesn't look very good.

My priorities were to keep the vividness of the brightened sequence, to put as much detail as possible in the face and important features, and to reduce jarring patches of dithering.

Here's how I went about it:

First I picked five colors I thought might be useful:

I put the test palettes into an undithered gif, so I can see exactly where it's finding similar colors and how many colors are in play in a given area. I can tell that more colors in the face area will make a lot of difference - the pink color is taking up too much space in an area where I want the most detail.

(I did test these five colors with dithering as well, but it's eyestrain city with that much contrast in the dithering, so I won't subject you to it here.)

So I added a nice marigold:

The pink is still too dominant, especially early in the gif.

I added a gray blue to try and get more detail on the low end, and to serve as a cool neutral for all areas of the gif, and added a second red:

That pink is still pretty dominant, but there is much more detail in the face now! The background has also got more going on.

I started darkening the deep green here to increase contrast with the gray blue.

I tried darkening the pink to see if the lighter colors would bleed into the face more, but it mostly pushed out the darker colors, so I also added an orangey tone:

There's a lot going on in the face now! But there are still a lot of areas that are Just Pink (or more like puce now) so I added another, more neutral tone in the value range of the orange and puce:

That's a lot of nice color layering in the face! Every part of his face in every frame has some color differentiation.

The neutral is very neutral, though. It's not quite what I'm looking for to keep the vividness and contrast.

I pushed it back in the pink direction, and somewhere in here I also added an indigo color to add depth to the shadows, although it's not showing up much:

I liked that! So I tried dithering with this palette:

Pretty good! But the noise is still distracting, especially on that patch of wall above the backpack.

I picked a couple of neutrals from that area specifically:

Those neutral gray greens really dominate, but there's still good differentiation in the face.

So with dithering:

That's pretty great! OH. Except the lantern. The lantern light is now an expanse of taupe.

So I added white:

TOO WHITE TOO WHITE go back a little!

(changed the white to a pastel yellow:)

And that's the finished product!

[eobe]

And here he is – Captain Vaughn 🤩

Captain Rex didn’t feel like being Commander, but this is how we got Captain Vaughn, showing his loyalty and kindness only within moments in the 332nd company for Ahsoka (s7e9), so he's one of the underrated clones which would have deserved more sceentime *sigh* ♥️

We never got to see his face, so there’s so much space for head canons, isn’t it? 🥰 His look in this piece is inspired by this gorgeous look (<-) designed by @lonewolflupe 🫶 

I also want to share some process magic while I was working on Captain Vaughn, so ramble incoming 😁 Take a seat and have a caf ☕️ 

It’s always the eyes when I draw. They just lead the main energy of the character and that influences the face. So I sketched line after line and his face got clearer… with some unforeseen vibes! Since I’m not that fixed to templates anymore, there can be more variation, no matter how much I try to catch the right copy paste clone-face angles... or even colors 🤯 

Have a closer look into unusual clone eyes, oh yes 👀

Lupe and I were chatting about his lighter look with freckles in her artwork (a bit Tech color palette with golden and copper tones) and I told her that I don’t know why, but I feel like some heterochromia in his eyes 😀 So his eyes are like this now – not planned and unforeseen, like it is often when art takes over ✨

I really don’t know what the Kaminoans were doing during the cloning process 😂 but we got some varied clones – for example ‚icy eyes‘ Edge from the Tango company, or the blue eyed drunk one meeting Fives in front of the 79s (I named him ‚Blues‘ hehe 😜).

Without guiding my lines along a template, doing everything out of my mind, sometimes I might get either feeling like crooked fingers or odd sight, but this can be the point where the true art magic begins, because I’m not in charge anymore. I can only shrug and surrender to the flow and I love it 🥰

So I don’t know when it happened, but look at him… 👀 WHY does he look a bit like Echo? AND Rex? And there’s something soft in his eyes what reminds me of Kix, too? And it just fits his calm and loyal character!

For Commander Wolffe for example it could never be this face and it would never happen in the drawing process like that, it wouldn’t fit, but… I’m rambling – I could never point to the lines or the moment where things like this happen. Yeah, they’re all clones and share the same face, but faces do shape after their thoughts, experiences and their lives – more frowning or more smiling 😀

Oh, I love this. Not really being in charge while drawing, but achieving so much more without being under the illusion of the concept of control what is we’re all be taught… holy force I’m really rambling and diving

Sorry not sorry, art is my passion I guess and art is my healing thing, too 🤩 I’m proud of you, if you read all this! Enjoy 🫶 

My personal ALT text mission (1 additional ALT text for a previous artwork with each new art posting!):

Captain Gregor's faces part 1 one of my oldest clone drawings, what an improving process since then, I barely can't believe it 🤩

Taglist: @eclec-tech @bixlasagna @returnofthepineapple @sunshinesdaydream @covert1ntrovert @general-ida-raven @vrycurious @dystopicjumpsuit @chaicilatte @groguandthebadbatch @justanotherdikutsimp @ladylucksrogue

[dn-imagines-in-2023]

DATE NIGHT

Light

Is pretty open to whatever you want to do. If you ask him to choose, he'll go with the classic dinner at a nice restaurant and maybe go to a museum or something.

He's a very good conversationalist. He loves to learn so he's very easy to talk to; he remembers details.

'Oh, they hate this color, I better pick a different tie.'

If you're doing something fun, he'll have a good time. But he's not a fan of the 'lay around on the couch' kind of dates, they make him feel unproductive.

L

He LOVES the lay around on the couch type of dates. They're a good safe option for him when it's not safe for him to be in public.

When it is safe for him to be in public he's completely shameless. All of his habits and quirks are out on display for the whole world to see and he does not care if he gets judged for it.

So if you can't handle the secondhand embarrassment of your boyfriend having his bare feet out for free, you're going to have a bad time.

If you do go out, he likes quieter, more private dates. A library, a park, places that aren't too crowded or chaotic.

Cafes and bakeries are always a win for obvious reasons.

Misa

She really goes all out. You have to schedule your dates with her, because they can be like 6 hours long.

She's a big fan of classic romantic dates. The 'dinner and a move' kind of thing.

I think she would absolutely love to take you to a masquerade. A chance to experiment with fashion and dance with you all night? She'd be all over it.

She would also like shopping dates. She loves to pick out clothes she thinks would look good on you and will let you pick out things for her too.

Takes lots of cute pictures through the night and displays her favorites in her room.

Mello *NSFW mentioned*

He’ll only go on dates with you on his off time- work always comes first. He has to beat Near by any means necessary, that means his love life comes second to that. In another world where everything was resolved neatly, he would likely be more willing to engage in romance.

Mello loves an adrenaline rush. His favorite dates are always a little risky and you always end up sweaty and out of breath (in a good way.) 

I imagine he would like taking you out for drinks and going dancing- probably to raves rather than nightclubs. 

The dark is a nice excuse to hold your hand- so you don’t get separated of course. 

When you’re so exhausted and dizzy you can’t see straight, he’ll call you both a cab and you’ll do everything short of have sex in the back of it.

The real fun starts when you both get upstairs ;)

Matt

Matt loves relaxed stay-at-home dates. You hop on multiplayer on a really relaxing game like stardew valley or minecraft and just lay in a snuggly pile of blankets together. 

I think he would also like dates where you make something together- trying a new recipe, or making an art project. It might not turn out great - he doesn’t have a sophisticated palette or a lot of artistic skill, but he would have a lot of fun.

He doesn’t mind going out once in a while, but he doesn’t like dressing up. He hates wearing ties. He’ll do it occasionally for your sake, but it’s not his favorite.

Near

He doesn’t really do specifically set out *dates*. You both just… end up in each others company.

It’s never a case of ‘Let’s set aside this Saturday at 7 for a date night.’ Usually, you just end up in his room while he’s working, you distract him, and you two end up spending the next six hours talking.

I imagine he would like that type of date, where you sit and have a really, really good conversation for hours and hours.

Especially since you’re one of the only people in the world who can really keep up with him.

He might bring out something for you two to work on together, some of his toys, puzzles, models, etc.

He likes meticulous, detail oriented work. Introduce him to knitting/crochet and you two can sit and knit together for hours. (embroidery would also work for this.)

Matsuda

Silly goofy guy.

He likes new experiences, he’s willing to try just about anything once. So if you have a really wild date idea, he’s probably down with it.

If he’s the one to come up with the date, he tries to put some thought into it and make it personal to you. But he has trouble coming up with new ideas so he tends to stick to what he knows - you two have a dedicated date night restaurant you both like.

I have no idea why, but I imagine he would love live theater? Like specifically musicals. Take him to see Hairspray, he’ll have the time of his life.

[crystallizsch]

“Oh? *I* get to be in charge of our lovely Princes? Hehe. I graciously accept the challenge.”

[SR] Yuusha Tala -> GROOOOVY!! Glimmering Soirée (fan event by @starry-night-rose)

Groooovy!!: Hehe. If you want to dance with me, you’re gonna have to keep up with me first.

Set Home: Yeah, yeah… I know I’m just a glorified attendant and I don’t really have any say over the Princes... Look, just let me have this.

Home Idle 1: Helping Deuce act like a Prince has been really hilarious. But credit where credit is due, seeing him try his best is really charming.

Home Idle 2: Wow. Somehow Azul became less insufferable after being trained as a Prince. ….Wait. Nevermind. He’s still the same.

Home Idle 3: Kalim and Hornton seem to be a natural at this. I guess I should have expected that. It’s really nice to see them shine.

Home Idle - Login: Has anyone seen Grim? I swear I saw him lurking around here somewhere…

Home Idle - Groovy: I could go for "Belle of the Ball" if I really wanted to, especially since I'm the one who helped take care of everything after all. But alas, why would you vote for the magicless prefect..? Wait, unless.….

Home Tap 1: Where did I put that ghost camera? I was just holding it just a while ago… Huh? It’s around my neck? Well, that’s embarrassing. Oh stop laughing at me, will ya?

Home Tap 2: The others say I’m like a different person when I go into "manager" mode. …And they say it either like a compliment or an insult so I’m getting mixed messages.

Home Tap 3: Ugh. This cape is cool and all but people keep getting caught by it. So annoying.

Home Tap 4: Would I compete in being the Belle of the Ball if I wasn't taking care of the Princes? Depends. Would you vote for me? ~ ♡ …What do you mean you’ll give me a "pity" vote.

Home Tap 5: No, I’m not staring "longingly" at that band! …But hypothetically, do you think they’d let me play an instrument with them?

Home Tap - Groovy: Oh, wow. Crazy that they totally just left this violin here. Hmmm…..

notes:

i had fun with the voice lines aaah but it might have some changes when i’m done with the groovy (and i’ll properly put her in an actual card template)

also slight lore drop from one of the voice lines: yuusha has experience hosting formal parties pre-twst. basically she just locks in (a bit too heavily) when she has hosting duties.

(some of the voice lines also foreshadow the groovy 👀)

anyways i was just messing around a lot with the outfit design and the colors hgsdfjds

i tried my best making her purple color scheme agree with the limited color palette and i think it worked out??? idk idk--

also the cape was supposed to have patterns similar to the ceremonial robes so as to label her as someone from nrc.

i wanted to include a LOT more ruffles too but i had no patience for lining all of that 🤧

(bonus sketches/concepts below)

at first i based off her suit on hans frozen but then (because of pinterest giving me ideas) i realized i wanted a more fun outfit and so here i am-

(also help me i meant to have the voice lines to be just talking to anyone but it just hit me that it sounds like she’s talking to jamil 💀 girl they just can’t leave me alone they live in my head 24/7 rent-free)

[silentcryracha]

❍ ‗ Making art with Hyunjin ‗ ❍

Pairing : Hyunjin x f reader

Summary : chapter four of a cute standalone miniseries. It's what it says in the title

Genre/ Warnings : scenario/imagine/headcanon, drabble, fluff, suggestive but no smut, unserious but helpful Hyunjin, it's cute idk

Word count : 635 words

A/n : none

ps: There could be grammar errors. Do NOT repost on other socials. Leave feedback if you feel like it, otherwise enjoy! ♡︎

masterlist

series masterpost

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Hyunjin loves art, yes, but he loves you more. Don't even try to not make things about you if you're around because you'll be unsuccessful.

"Okay mr. Picasso draw an apple for me"

Five minutes later he'd be handing you the sketchbook, a pencil sketch picturing YOU holding an apple.

"This is ridiculous" you whisper, lowkey speechless. Hyunjin would pout, looking genuinely sad for a moment.

"You don't like it?" and of course you'd throw yourself at him covering him with kisses and praises all over his face.

He's just extra talented and in love! It's not his fault!

He'd be so happy to either learn from you or teach you, if you asked. Like oh my gosh imagine if he had an actual artist as a partner? He'd be so in awe and interested in each and every step of the process.

He would a hundred percent ask you to teach him, whatever the technique. He'd just be so excited to spend time with you regardless <3

Same thing if the roles were reversed and he was the teacher! He'd be very honored if asked him to teach you, probably because even though he's crazy good he wouldn't consider himself a professional artist.

You'd just end you having so much fun together. I feel like Hyunjin would shower you with praises and encouragement.

"That looks so good already, baby."

"It's...missing an arm and hair"

And he'd just respond "It's his business not yours" in the cutest most unserious tone.

"Hyune, come here a sec" you call out and whatever he was doing, he'd walk over.

"I don't think the sketch is bad but something is off. Is it the colors?" he listens, giving you a sweet kiss on the head, then focusing on the painting.

"I think the purple is a bit bright, try adding some black. I know you usually shouldn't but I don't think it's a drop is gonna hurt." he answers softly, picking up the acrylic and then mixing.

He picks up the brush and skillfully covers up the previous color, smiling to himself in satisfaction afterwards.

"See? Now the palette is more balanced." he gives you another kiss because, well yes.

"Yes it does! Colors do make such a difference. Thank you, honey"

It doesn't always need to be a learning experience though! Sometimes you just want to have a laugh or make a mess and then then make out covered in paint like it's not that serious.

It would happen specifically when someone got stressed working on a piece, and maybe it just sucked and wanted to throw it away, so might as well transform it into a whole abstract piece and get a laugh out of it. Mood lifted!

You and Hyunjin were just chilling, sitting together on the couch late at night, a whole storm outside. He turns to you, saying:

"Do you want to play a game?" you look up at him.

"Okay, Jigsaw. What were you thinking?"

He stands up, walking around the living room to pick up two sketchbooks, some pencils and spare pastels. Then comes back to hand you one.

"We pick something in the room -in our line of view- to draw, then we each have three chances to guess it right." you bite your lip, smiling.

"Okay. And what if we don't guess right?" he shrugs, a smirk struggling not to appear on his plump lips.

"Then one piece of clothing, of choice, comes off." he replies, "Each. time." you pout, feigning innocence.

"But...it's quite cold. Will we not be cold?"

"Well then let's hope we lose fast, so we can warm each other up." he winks and you giggle like an idiot, because of course that's where he was going.

"Bet"

And the rest is history <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[aventurineswife]

Heellpp I'm thinking about Aventurine buying every makeup product the reader wants (cause she's interested in makeup not because she's insecure) and everytime he buys her a new set of makeup she has to see how beautiful the shade is but of course on his pretty cheeks and lips (not because she puts makeup on him, cause she kisses him but the idea of putting makeup on his face is also pretty cute and funny)

HOPE YOU READ THIS REQUEST I LOVE YOU BYYEEE

Kiss the Colours onto Me

Summary: Aventurine loves spoiling you with new makeup products, delighting in watching you try each shade. But today, you decide to test the makeup on him instead—by applying a bit of blush and lipstick to his face through playful kisses.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Suggestive Themes, Playful Romance, Makeup Bonding, Light Humor, Kissing.

Warnings: Suggestive themes, Mild intimacy (kissing).

A/N: THANK YOU ANON FOR MAKING SUCH A CUTE REQUEST!! I LOVE IT AND LOVE YOU TOO <33 HOPE YOU LOVE THIS!!

The quiet murmur of your favorite perfume and Aventurine’s cologne filled the room, mingling in a delicate balance. It was a late afternoon ritual—one Aventurine had turned into a lavish affair, much to your amusement. He seemed to enjoy filling your vanity with makeup, every bit as much as you loved experimenting with it.

But today, his eyes—those intense magenta and cyan hues framed by his golden glasses—held a glint of mischief as he handed you another sleek black-and-gold bag. Inside, you found another new palette, a collection of lip colors and blushes in hues so exquisite you nearly swooned on the spot.

“You spoil me.” you murmured, leaning against his arm. Aventurine laughed softly, his arm wrapping around your shoulders to draw you close.

“Only fair to treat beauty with beauty.” he replied, an elegant smirk playing across his lips. His fingers lifted your chin gently, turning you to face him. “Though I must say, I have an interest in seeing the results myself.”

There was something in the way he spoke, the way his eyes sparked with anticipation as you opened each new compact and tested each shade. But you noticed his gaze drifting toward your lips, his playful demeanor telling you he might have plans of his own for this “testing” session.

With a grin, you picked out a shade—an iridescent blush that would surely look stunning on your own cheeks. But… what was the harm in experimenting? Especially when Aventurine himself seemed the perfect canvas.

You brushed a hint of the blush onto your finger and, in one smooth motion, pressed it against his cheek. His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he lifted his chin, lips twitching into a smirk as he watched you through his lashes.

“Beautiful color...” you murmured, brushing your thumb along his cheek in slow, gentle strokes. The subtle hue contrasted against his skin, and for a moment, you forgot you were supposed to be teasing him. He really did look good.

“Enjoying yourself, are we?” he chuckled, clearly amused by your enthusiasm. But before you could reply, his hands found your waist, pulling you closer.

“Aventurine—” you laughed, feeling his nose brush against yours. “What are you doing?”

“Making sure I get my share.” he murmured, his voice a low purr. And then, before you could blink, his lips found yours in a slow, tantalizing kiss that stole the breath right out of your lungs. The remnants of your chosen lipstick tinged his lips as he pulled back, his thumb brushing against the corner of your mouth with a fondness that left your heart racing.

You looked at his face, admiring the shades on his skin, and he chuckled, clearly aware of his effect on you. “Well, I’m waiting. Surely you wouldn’t let me walk around uneven.” he teased.

Giggling, you picked up the lipstick and, leaning closer, applied just a hint more to the side of his mouth with a quick peck. Aventurine's grin grew, and he glanced at himself in the nearby mirror, clearly amused. “You know,” he murmured, “I could get used to this… as long as you’re my artist.”

In that moment, he pulled you close again, his fingers tracing along your arm as his lips hovered near your ear. “Consider it our little ritual.” he whispered.

[mapofsouthdakota]

Caleb’s myth -

The Vermillion bird

AU: You are at the Vermillion bird’s court. Captive? (Mid+. Hello batsh*t craycray Caleb. He’s possessive and protective aka 100% delulu. Suggestive language, you are warned.)

Sullied goods

You and Caleb stroll hand in hand through the lively market, the world around you humming with energy.

The air is thick with the mingling scents of fresh herbs, rich spices, and fragrant blooms that seem to float on the warm breeze. Colorful silk fabrics sway in the air, their vibrant hues dancing like a painter’s palette, while intricate stoneware glimmers in the sunlight. Booths overflow with glittering jewelry and beautifully embroidered textiles that catch your eye at every turn.

Your heart races with delight as you sip from a takeaway cup of chilled oolong tea, the cool liquid refreshing against the heat of the day, the bamboo straw pressed gently to your lips. Caleb watches you with an intensity that makes your cheeks flush, his gaze never leaving your face, his lips curling into a tender smile as you take each delicate sip.

“Caleb, would you please stop looking at me like that?” you ask, the words slipping out before you can stop them, your voice a playful mix of embarrassment and affection.

He chuckles, the sound rich and warm, his laughter like a secret shared between the two of you. A slow, teasing finger brushes over your chin, his gaze soft yet filled with something deeper, something fond. “Oh, come ooon,” he coos, his voice like velvet, “How could I not look at you when you’re so adorable?”

But then he pauses, his eyes darkening with mischief, a wicked grin spreading across his face. “Especially when I think about how your lips were gracing something far larger than a bamboo straw this morning.”

Your body freezes, and a hot blush creeps up your neck. “Caleb! We’re in public, you bird-brained dum-dum!” you exclaim, nudging his hand, half-shocked, half-laughing, your words dripping with mock disapproval.

The fire in his eyes ignites with playful defiance, and without another word, he bolts, his movements lazy yet teasing, as if savoring the chase. You watch, laughing, as he stumbles slightly, running with a slow, exaggerated gait, as if pretending to escape your lighthearted judgment.

Caleb turns back with a grin, still laughing, and shouts over his shoulder, “Please, be just as cute tonight, little sun!”

You laugh, chasing him for a few moments before coming to a sudden halt at a booth where the most magnificent fan lies on the seller’s table.

Its delicate bones are carved with intricate designs that shimmer in the sunlight, and the fabric of the fan itself catches the light like a woven tapestry of a setting sun.

You reach out, your fingers barely brushing the edges, mesmerized by its beauty, the playful chase momentarily forgotten.

Caleb immediately notices your detour, letting out an exaggerated sigh as he slows to a stop. With deliberate ease, he wraps a hand around your hip, pulling you close as he presses a soft kiss to your hair. His gaze narrows, suspicion flickering across his features as he watches the seller closely, silently assessing his intentions. His eyes return to you, a silent question lingering in them, as you resist the temptation to grab the fan.

The seller, sensing your hesitation, eagerly exclaims, “Oh, young one! Please, feel free to try it out. Experience the lightness and beautiful craftsmanship in your hands.” With that, the seller picks up the fan, extending it toward you, a hopeful glint in his eye.

Caleb observes intently, his instinct sharp as he studies the situation, searching for any sign that might feel off. His eyes never leave you, even as you carefully reach for the fan, feeling the coolness of its delicate bones beneath your fingertips.

You lift it, swaying it gently upward, the sun catching the fabric, making it shimmer like a cloud of stars in your hands. Your eyes gleam with admiration as the fan’s beauty seems to match your own. Caleb’s lips curl into a smile, his voice a soft murmur in the warm air. “You like it?”

You nod, your smile reflecting the same sense of awe.

The seller, watching with delight, exclaims, “A fan fit for such a beauty.” He turns, as if struck by another idea. “But such a magnificent fan must be adorned with suitable jewelry,” he adds, picking up a piece of jewelry that catches the light—a simple yet stunning golden bracelet, glistening with a single ruby, a small apple charm glimmering in the sunlight.

The seller steps closer, moving around the booth with quiet intent. His gaze locks onto yours, his steps slow and deliberate as he approaches you. Caleb’s watchful eyes follow his every movement, a protective tension coiling in the air between them.

The seller is just about to reach for your hand, when Caleb intercepts with swift precision.

“That's fine, thank you. I’ll take it.” Caleb says firmly, his voice laced with authority, but the seller ignores him, grabbing your wrist with more force than necessary, attempting to fasten the wristband onto you.

Caleb’s wrath is inevitable. He moves swiftly, grabbing the seller by the shoulder. In the ensuing commotion, your iced tea slips from your grasp, spilling onto the ground, the cool liquid splashing across your robe and Caleb’s.

A muscle twitches in Caleb’s jaw, his eyes dark with fury. “I said: That. Is. Fine.” He snatches the wristband from the seller’s hand and pushes him away, his strength sending the seller stumbling back.

“Lord… I… I meant no harm,” the merchant stammers, but Caleb’s deathly stare silences him. The seller, at a loss for words, retreats slowly, his face pale as he returns to the confines of his booth. He’s no longer a man, just a thing before Caleb's wrath.

“Don’t. Ever. Touch her again” Caleb says with icy finality, his voice cutting through the air like a blade. His words hang heavy, each syllable weighted with an undeniable threat that seems to freeze time itself. “Unless,”

Caleb leans in, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. “Unless, of course… you’d rather test how well you can count your profits without fingers.” He tilts his head, watching the merchant’s throat bob in fear, then chuckles, low and dangerous. “… I’m willing to bet you’d lose track after one.”

“Ca—!” The syllable barely escapes before he stops you, his thumb pressing softly yet firmly against your lips. The touch is warm, reassuring—an unspoken command. His gaze remains locked on the seller, unwavering, sharp with authority, yet when he turns to you, his expression softens. A silent plea, a quiet insistence. “My precious little sun,” his voice a low, steady anchor.

With a flick of his wrist, Caleb places a handful of golden coins on the desk, the weight of the exchange unmistakable. The discussion is closed, the matter settled. He meets the merchant’s shaken gaze, a slow, razor-sharp smirk stretching across his lips—cold, amused, and utterly merciless. “Enjoy counting while you can,” he hums, tapping a single coin with deliberate ease. “Might be your last chance to get the numbers right.” Then, without another glance, he turns away, leaving the weight of his presence lingering like a shadow.

He takes your wrist, the same spot where the seller’s hand had briefly lingered, his touch tender. His amber eyes flicker with something much softer now, a hint of genuine worry. “Are you okay, little sun?” he asks, his gaze searching yours, as if trying to read every flicker of emotion.

You throw up your hands, eyes wide with disbelief. “Are you for real?! Of course I’m fine, Caleb.” You smile faintly, easing his concerns. “The seller was just—”

But Caleb stops you, his thumb gently tracing your lips, silencing your words. He shakes his head, his voice filled with a mix of disbelief and concern. “Of course, you’re not fine,” he whispers, his eyes darkening into voilet as he steps closer. “You’ve been…” His voice falters, and for a moment, he hesitates, as if the words taste bitter on his tongue. “Sullied,” he finally murmurs, the word heavy with distaste.

He takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself, and then his tone softens, “Let’s get you cleaned up,”

Caleb casts one final, warning glance at the booth, a last reminder to the seller. He then turns back to you, his gaze softening, lips brushing against your hair. “How does a bath sound, little sun?” he whispers, his voice laced with a playful promise.

“Let see how much foam it takes to flood the bathroom”

Writer’s note: Ye I live for crazy Caleb. This is ofc inspired by how insanely authoritative he was in the Fleet and against Viper. And crazy Caleb gives me the butterflies ngl send help

[agarthanguide]

Very much love your take on the new looks for Orym and Ashton! I saw a bit of your post about how Liam and Tal give feedback... would you be willing to share any information about how the back-and-forth process works between you and the actors as you work on their stuff? (I just love hearing HOW the awesome happens, not just the end results.)

Yeah okay. Lemme think, here. Alright let's so this as a numbered list-

1- Actor sends description of character. This is pretty broadly interpreted, in my experience. It's something between a brief paragraph, an annotated pdf, and multiple pinterest boards.

2- I send back a Pitch. This has taken multiple forms in the past, but it's generally settled into a few pages, that kinda go- a- Poses and Vibe Sketches- This includes little portraits, attitude poses, a couple sketches showing extreme dynamism or movement. I try to suggest outfits and weapons or accessories, here, but I don't spend a lot of time fleshing it out. b- Outfit Poses- usually on a turnaround or one fairly lowkey pose. I try to include 3 or 4 serious attempts at outfits and maybe a couple of backs, if it's important. c- Color- I usually just pick an outfit at random and try to give it a few different palettes. If the actor is absolutely sure what the palette is, or if it's a character I've worked with before, I might just make one palette and briefly color each of the outfit sketches from b in that palette d- Accessories, Weapons, Other Important Stuff- if the character is carrying around like a book or a bird or a really specific weapon, I try to address that in its own space, though sketches for all of those things may exist on other pages. This has been known to be very pretty or a bit boring.

3- There is some form of back and forth between me and the actors (and a producer, who are all lovely and don't step in on creative things but are always working against a schedule and need to know how things are going. I just want to be clear that every producer at CR is a secret angel who eats deadlines and shits magic and every one of them totally Gets It. They are all One Of Us). The back and forth is always individual and based on the actor but it can be- a- Actor picks from menu, usually via complex "circling" system (also all sketches are numbered, so they can just ref numbers). b- Actor sort of picks from menu, while moderating and adding further references. c- Actor just sends a bunch more shit and I narrow stuff down based upon what they seem to be getting at.

4- There's this bit of finding what the pose is gonna be, marking in all the necessary accessories, getting that last email about adding a scar, can we add a necklace? etc. What you are left with is something that the Producers call "pre-final." If it hasn't already been with the modelers and painters this whole time, this is when the modelers and painters get the design and start their magic.

5- I go away into a cave for a time period of quiet reflection with my Gods. I refer to this period as "rendering." I cannot be reached by the reason of man and spend a lot of time bitching to my friends while I try to figure out why shading a cape is suddenly the most difficult thing I've ever dealt with in my life.

6- Done!