#more doodles while i cook up my real art

[cloverwulfs]

me if I ever "befriended" lawrence

[ask-the-biggering-onceler]

Announcement

OP: Hey, everybody. It sure has been a while, huh? Life has been really distracting and I've missed you guys for a long time :( I've been going over what to do and it's been killing me, but I think we all saw this coming. Biggerler is officially put on a pause. Biggerler was such a fun experience, SUCH a huge highlight on my summer. From making that first starting post to cranking out posts every night in NYC. It's been such a fun and great digital art learning curve for me and I couldn't believe how much people liked it. It was really, really uplifting.

That being said, I'm NOT actually CANCELLING him. As you guys can tell, my mind is constantly shifting from media to media. And as much as I want to stay with one media, I also know that these shifts each are a learning curve for me. The Lorax/Onceler fandom is a media that I will ALWAYS cherish and love, and I won't be surprised at ALL if I went back to it. (Let's be real, it's gonna happen. Heck, I'm planning on cooking up some more Biggerler and Truffula Flu doodles!) And yknow what, my favorite Onceler askblog of all time, LQ, has spanned across, like, 12 years (???)!! I definitely see myself coming back to this, since I feel so bad about not getting through even the first dang phase of his story.

All that being said, thank you. Thank you guys SO SO much for your support and fanart even?! Like, it's still crazy for me to think about. You guys are all so great and I still hope we can interact even though I may not be solely posting Biggerler and/or Onceler fandom content. I'm looking forward to seeing how the rest of my time on the wacky app goes >:)

Thanks again for you guys being you 💚🫵🏼

-Mel

[crowandmoonwriting]

Writing tip: Explorer Mode!

(Loosely based on Assassin's Creed's Discovery Mode)

Starting off a first draft? Not quite happy with your wording or the starting scene? Inclined to jump around the plot? No idea what the plot is, or who the characters are yet, but still determined to write?

Use Explorer Mode! Your story is an adventure in and of itself, and you are Indiana Jones in the Temple of your Creativity. Write notes, scenes, memes, character motivations, bits of poetry or prose from books or media that inspire you, doodle in the margins, but write. Draw a map from one scene to another. Document your journey, even where you fall into a plot hole full of snakes. You are here to find the story, not make a finished project. It's not so much a first draft as it is a draft zero.

How to switch into Explorer Mode:

It's best to have a dedicated journal to wreck, but you can use whatever writing software you like. Some recommendations: Obsidian, Notion, Campfire Writing, and World Anvil.

At the top of the page, write Explorer Mode, and use it as a header or footer for each page if you have to, to remind you.

Keep it loose. You don't have to keep anything you write in here, but try not to discard anything. Whatever you have might be useful for writing the first draft later, or laughing at with friends.

Make it multimedia! If it's a physical journal, decorate it, draw on it, paint on it, add stickes and fancy scrapbooking paper, pretty washi tape, whatever you like. Cut out pictures from magazines, or tear out pages from old books. Don't be afraid to get messy with it.

Music, music, music! Definitely write down some playlists, or put in some links if you're using a digital journal. Write down the actual names and artists of the songs, however, and when you listen to each one, take notes. What character or scene might this relate to? Who would sing it? What lyrics inspire you? When you close your eyes and just listen, what do you picture in your mind's eye?

Involve the senses! There is nothing so evocative for the memory as scent. Scent your journal, or your pages. Add in a perfume, a fragrance oil, and lightly dab a page. Make a small envelope for a sachet of spices or a scented bit of gauze. What does the scene you're writing smell like? If you're working digitally, write down the notes of fragrances, or which candle you'd like to burn while writing this scene. You can do this with taste, too. Have a few dedicated recipes, if you like to cook, or places to eat that remind you of characters, settings, or plot points. What are your characters' favourite foods? Their comfort foods? For more on food and worldbuilding see my post here.

Get crafty! Make artefacts from your world or story. Embrace other art forms to realise it in your own world. Once when I was taking a ceramics class, I made a series of cups, goblets, and tea pots in the style of one of the countries from my high fantasy world. I love to see them and hold them, and imagine my characters having items just like these (or pretend that these are the real items they used). Sculpt, sketch, make delicate jewellery, sew clothes or a quilt, look up some fun DIY projects on YouTube that might relate to your story or character's interests and give it a go! Remember this is an exploration, so these crafts don't have to be perfect. It's a good idea to have something physical to do, something that you can do while listening to your story playlists, something you can accomplish while you daydream.

And that's about it! Take breaks from Explorer Mode whenever you like, to either actually start work on the first draft because you now feel more confident and comfortable with it, or just to chill and not think of anything for a while. That's important too. Most importantly, have fun! This is art we're making here, and we are artists, but we are also archaeologists, anthropologists, scientists, historians, and explorers of every kind.

Now go out there and have an adventure!

[wormy-worm]

Penjamin!

Heres a character design thats been floating around my mind for a few months. He's based on a dream i had while sleeping through class about a guy named pen who got a boring miserable finance job he doesnt like, and is always doodling over his work. I think he has a real propensity for creative things and i think he really likes action comics. But pen was never given the space to explore or cultivate that artistic side outside the margins of his notebook pages. He was put on a specific path and is expected to act in a very specific way. He thinks that the only true measurement of success is the traditional kind and that his other interests are childish (this is a mindset that was very much taught, he drew a LOTTT more when he was younger). So his art is very messy and childlike i think. lots of stuff he draws just cuz its SICK, superheros and monsters and stuff. he likes using crayons too. His life continues very monotonously until one day when his doodle COME TO LIFE and burst off the page, wreaking havoc on the city!! so now its up to Penjamin (and his crayons that can create anything he can think of!) to capture and erase all his doodles. And in having to come up with creative solutions to catching each doodle, as well as having to draw his way out of many situations, Penjamin learns to accept and cultivate his own wants and creativity. He learns he wants to make art even if its frivolous, and even if hes not very good at it, and even if he started taking it seriously "too late". I think at the end he gets a new job that, while maybe less traditionally successful, he likes more. One that gives him more time to draw and read comics and cook and sing and drive his stupid car around. More time to just be a human guy.

He's repressed and pretentious and a slacker and just absolutely goofy <3 ily blorbo from my dreams. blorbo from my visions.

[britishmuffin]

Hello, Britishmuffin

I hope you are having a wonderful day/night.

Just wanted to know what inspires you to make such amazing art pieces? As well how do you deal with art block?

Im a artist myself but times get tuff and I lose motivation and start developing art block.

Sincerely, fisheggsoup :)

Morning! Love your name :D

Truthfully, my biggest motivator is born of necessity these days. I create art because I have bills to pay and family to support. My patrons are a huge driving force in all this, cheering me on from the sidelines while I work; my band of blessed saviours.

I also make sure that my social feeds are full of artists I love, who make art that makes me happy. I'm always watching films and playing games, always constantly absorbing media in this wacky age of technology-infused information. Then if I'm lucky, I get the chance to step outside for a walk in the woods with my sibling to help ground ourselves in the world and reconnect with nature, pure medicine for the troubled soul.

All of these activities serve to stir the Brain Soup and sometimes reflect in my artwork. I rarely get struck with the "fabled bolt of inspiration" these days, but I blame the current climate. I did used to.

As some of you will already know because I'm being quite open about it this time, I'm currently battling the worst bout of burnout I've had in literal years. So really, I'm not sure I'm the best person to be asking on the topic of how to deal with it, but here you go:

In my experience it’s not the best idea to wait for inspiration to strike. Inspiration is unreliable, constantly waiting can leave you anxious, and also most of us just don’t have the luxury of being able to. I kinda think we just need to create despite it (or TO spite it, or in order to spite someone who told you you couldn't, if that's your sauce).

If you feel like your art sucks, instead of expecting perfection try just giving yourself permission to be bad at art for a while, you might be surprised about how much of a relief it feels. Make a hundred terrible little sketches, doodles, scribbles, or just make marks on paper. You don’t even have to show them to anyone, they can be just for your eyes! More often than not I’ve found that the physical act of creating artwork can genuinely inspire you to make more, and better work. It flexes those art muscles and gets the creative cogs whirring. Just make stuff!!!

As a person who’s had little choice but to create for years, it can be really helpful to push through it. Not always, though.

Sometimes the art block you’re staring down actually goes layers deep into the realms of debilitating mental health and poor living status, right into dangerous burnout and breakdown territory. Some would argue that creating art in times of real pain is the best medicine, and indeed, creates the best results. I wholly disagree.

My advice is to always make art in those moments when you can, even if it sucks. And when you just can’t, then rest. Watch your favourite guilty pleasure anime, cook some delicious food, hug your pets, go exist in nature for a bit. Have you ever seen Kiki’s Delivery Service? That!

Helpful links to combat art block:

Line of Action has great learning resources, while also being a brilliant tool for a variety of speedy sketch warm-ups

Don’t know what to draw? Use a character description generator!

You could flex your figure drawing muscles with models on Figurosity, AdorkaStock, or ArtModels360 (nudity warning)

Improve your fundamental art skills with Drawabox or videos on The Fix List

Generate some colour palettes to use as a challenge. Adobe’s colour wheel tool isn’t too bad either

Other more practical tips include:

If you struggle staying motivated, try to refocus by sitting down and asking yourself "What kind of art do I really want to create?” Try to rediscover what excites you! Is your aim to work in the art industry? To be able to draw your OCs smooching? Draw beefy bara men? Do you really just wanna paint cool rocks? All valid af

Pull up images of your favourite artworks and study them. Ask yourself “Why do I like this artwork?” Are the outfits really cool designs? Is the lineart super stylish? Do you love the way they used colours? After that, think about what you need to learn to get to that point yourself, and start small. Mimic your favourite artworks in order to learn how to do it.

Example: If you realise that you want to improve at drawing hands, just spend a week learning about them. Draw pages and pages of them, find a way to make them fun and sexy to draw! I did just that, and now hands are actually one of my favourite things to draw, it works.

Warm-ups are SO important. If you just started on a piece and already feel defeated, ask yourself “Did I warm up enough first?” You can try looping fifty quick spirals in different sizes with your pen, scratch out some box shapes, doodle some funky wiggly shapes, crosshatch them, whatever you want! Just get that hand moving before you leap into your artwork of choice, it helps to loosen up to keep your lines from becoming too stiff.

If it’s just not working today, that’s okay. Take a break by filtering your creativity into another entirely different creative pursuit. You could try baking something tasty, making music, writing for your next D&D campaign, building cute houses in minecraft or the sims, painting miniatures, crafting with paper or sewing fabric, etc etc. Anything that keeps the creative brain ticking that isn’t drawing is also worthwhile.

And, mentally:

Try not to worry about what other people think of your artwork. Doesn’t matter what age you are or your background, the fact you’ve created anything at all is incredible. You brought something into the world that didn’t exist before. You’re powerful as hell.

Related: please please please don’t focus on being “successful” on social media. Even though I know it can feel awesome to post your art and get instant reactions, these things are a death spiral of addictive behaviour and shouldn’t dictate your creativity. Use sparingly.

Remember that your kid self would absolutely be losing their mind over the cool stuff you’ve made now. Same goes for your ancient ancestors who used to make those little clay animals. You’re doing great, be proud.

Don’t be so damn hard on yourself. I mean it <3

If you keep drawing you will improve. You will get your motivation back. You will make art again even if it takes you a while. And know that a muffin is cheering for you c:

[residentdormouse]

Unrelenting Use of ‘U’ Words

Unimpressed with what I uncovered, I was unaware that my usage of uncommon words was utterly underwhelming. Undoubtedly unlimited access to unique language and I’m left feeling unworthy of this undertaking. Yet undaunted and unbroken, ultimately I will upload more unusual variations with utmost urgency.

(Sorry short intro today. Maybe it's all the Ides of March posts, maybe I need some more sleep, maybe I just want to watch capitalism burn, but I’m just a little bubble of rage today and want to stab things. My useful focus is shot.)

My Words: Ultimate, Unless, Undo/Undone, Up, Union/Unite

Your Words: Vent, View, Vivid, Verify, Vanish (if these aren't readily available, I think we’re at replace with ‘v’ word of choice status.)

Normal Note - this is an OPEN TAG - if it would bring any enjoyment at all to partake in this absurdity, please consider yourself tagged and ‘@’ me.

Ultimate:

Another burst of expletives came out as his hands went to his head. He took a few more paces to ponder information before he came to his next question. “Is he going to be okay?!”

“I don’t know…”

“Do you know anything?!” As soon as the words left his mouth, he realized he had gone too far. The various calls of his name in reprimand, Hayden being one of them, only solidified this fact to him. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, okay. I just… Can I see him? Or can you check and… let me know?”

The vulnerability was a new side to Harold that Hayden was not used to. Ultimately that was the goal, for him to just open up. Let somebody in before he burst. It may have come a bit late, but it was nice to see the progress, even if it was in the worst circumstances. Steph also picked up on the change, and her tension relented a bit.

“Yeah. Yeah of course. I don’t know what’s going on back there though, so… No freaking out, okay?” A finger was pointed at him, with as severe a look as she could manage. It wasn’t severe.

Unless:

If Max wouldn’t have seen it with her own eyes, she may have called bullshit on it all. Anybody could practice strategy. Anticipate attacks.

Not everybody could write out next Friday’s exam answers hidden inside doodles along the margins of their notebooks.

And maybe that was were the real issue lay.

Max fought, struggled, persevered. Her training took over every aspect of her life. When she came to the school, she was taken in with comforting arms. The poor broken girl that had nowhere else to go. Their pity fueled her along. Spite pushed her further. Nowhere else to go her ass; this is where she belonged. And she’d show them all.

Della drifted through it. From the start, she was here. Hell, she probably couldn’t even remember what home even was before joining the Bright Futures program. If she did, she certainly wasn’t telling anybody else about it. She wasn’t telling anything for that matter; girl was a mystery herself. There was no push, no fight to prove her place.

Unless there was a test, you wouldn’t find her in class. Unless she was called upon, you wouldn’t find her in meetings.

Mid conversation, her eyes would glaze over and off she went. Were you telling her something important? It didn’t matter, she already knew what she needed to and truly didn’t care. She just sat under the trees, off in her own daydreams, letting life answer everything for her while she worked on her art.

That was their star pupil. Valedictorian.

Undo/Undone:

(I typed ‘Undo’ in Spiral and saw 6. Okay. All six were ‘rundown’. Fail. Diving has two, so dealers choice between smut and spoilers. More comfortable with slight spoilers.)

"Rayna put a banishing spell on her. Very nasty blood magic. One that isn't going to be undone any time soon. If ever. She can't come back here. The longer she's here, the more her blood will rise in temperature until it cooks her from the inside out. I only have rudimentary knowledge of this type of thing, so you'll want to confer with Hayden for anything specific, but…"

"So there's nothing we can do?!"

Again Gwen worked as a middle man, and her agitation about that was beginning to show. Quinn at least had more patience in his replies.

"Even if we knew how to get her back, I wouldn't know where to even begin on reversing what was done. We'd be killing her without solving that problem first. Best we leave now. Run to live another day, as it were. You'll be of no help if Rayna finds you first. Or those things."

Up:

(Holy shit - feel my shame - there are 1,301 instances of ‘Up’... my words suck… Used this one for the added ‘unnaturally upward’ alliteration to make up for it.)

“You’re being a fuckhead, and you know it.”

“Language.”

“Is English. Give me some time, and I'll tell you to fuck off in any language. Look, I know sign too.”

Holding up her middle finger, she forced a defiant smile on her face, ignoring the dread as his eyes flashed red and he closed the gap between them. “I admire the spunk.”

Placing a hand on her chin, he directed her attention solely to him, thumb running across her bottom lip. White hot anger burned inside of her, and she clung to it like a life preserver; it was all she had standing between herself and the chill he imposed.

Continuing its movement, his hand ran down along her neck, stopping right above her chest. She barely had enough time to recognise the unnaturally upward smile now displayed on his button before she flew backwards, back hitting where the door should have been. Wood splintered apart around her as she crashed to the ground, and the sound of boot heels against the hardwood floor punctuated the tension with each step.

Trying to scurry back to her feet before he closed the gap proved difficult as her head screamed at her for the excess movements. Pain radiated from her temples while Flagg took a look around, eyeing up the papers on her desk, fingers dragging along the spines of her books, even picking one up as he walked by.

Union/Unite:

(A few ‘re’unions, but none as is, and only one Unite.)

Stu also looked very pleased with the result, but Glen didn't seem sold as sat next to her, “It’s a good first step. Long way to go.”

Shrugging, Stu wrapped his arm around Fran to pull her closer. “Aw, c'mon, Glen. Could use the support right now, y'know.”

“You’ll be fine, East Texas, but looks like it's about that time…” With a nod of his head, Glen directed their attention to Nick, who was walking their way, Larry in tow.

Even without the formal announcement of an ad hoc committee yet, it was agreed that presenting themselves as a united group in the eyes of the community would be advisable, and Larry seemed on board as well. The idea was for a subliminal connection to help make a formal transition easier down the road. It had been Glen’s idea, of course, although he again made his disdain with 'appointments from above' very clear. While Nick might have seen his involvement here as a resolution, possibly Stu and Fran as well, Hayden saw it for the concession it was. This discussion was not over.

“Well, here goes nothin',” Stu stepped over to the edge of the pavilion to address the group.

[transmortaltv]

1. I tend to lean more digital...but I'm not sure that I prefer one over the other.

2. I have been drawing since before my earliest memory, so maybe 26ish yrs? Being creative is something I feel is an inherent part of me.

3. I took basic drawing, painting, and digital art in highschool...then pursued a bachelor's in graphic design in college...so I've taken more classes than I can count off the top of my head.

4. I mostly just post here and Instagram when it comes to art (I'm on Twitch/Youtube/Twitter for gaming content)...I'm bad very bad at social media.

5. My favorite things to draw are characters...usually with hoods and masks. I have always loved drawing Kirby characters... they bring a sort of comfort to me and robots are also pretty high up there in the list...

6. My least favorite thing to draw are hands and backgrounds because I am most unfamiliar with them and they stress me out.

7. I use references a lot...I learned in school that drawing from real life references allows you to truly visualize something in 3d space and it helps a good bit.

8. I have done quite a few commissions and work semi-frequently with Empire Comic Con in Savannah Ga to provide them with fun visual material for their events...but I mostly develop my own characters to be used in future projects 👀

9. On a daily basis overall I do not draw a lot...I personally am recovering from a very toxic mindset surrounding my art and been in a bit of a burnout/block for a while. I'm working to get back to the core of what makes creativity sincere and fun!

10. I'm fairly confident in my art looking back at it after the fact, specifically whenever a piece is done. Somehow they ALWAYS seem to finally come together at the end.

11. I follow very few artist blogs...I follow many artists on Instagram...but I think no more than 5 blogs (I'm new here)

12. I welcome any questions about my creative process or art advice...if you have any questions about art ever and think I could help I'm more than willing to try!

13. I always prefer to share the art I'm most proud of, whether it was personal or not...I think connecting and sharing it is what it's all about.

14. I don't collab usually...I'm very much a "too many cooks in the kitchen" kinda guy...

15. My works depending on the level of detail range anywhere from 2-10 hrs total maybe?

16. I draw less than I have in the past...I used to draw every day for fun, but as I get older I have to deal with the struggle of the weight of perfectionism and "it needing to be about something"

17. I think everyone is justified in some context to give art advice when asked...we all learn at different rates and everyone has something valuable to share.

18. Right now I'm just trying to improve my motivation to just create freely!

19. The most difficult thing for me to draw is probably feminine faces...It's very frustrating to me that this is a struggle.

20. I feel most comfortable drawing Kirby Characters...I doodled them constantly as a kid growing up and they just feel like home to me.

21. I feel like saying I LOVE to be challenged is disingenuous...initially I hate the overwhelming feeling, It's always stressful and almost makes me feel sick...but when I power through I love the end results and am happy I went through it after the fact. I feel every new piece I do challenges me to learn something new.

22. I try not to be over-confident about much...but looking at newer art of mine compared to my older stuff...I think I can safely say that I am improving...even if very slowly.

23. I feel like I draw more fanart than I used to just by the nature of me drawing for social media...I do a lot of speed drawing on Twitch...but traditionally overall I think I draw more original characters.

24. I don't think I ever feel jealous about someone elses art. I feel like that implies a certain level of resentment toward their work which I don't feel. I'm not a very competitive person when it comes to creativity and I don't feel like someone being good means you can't ALSO be good; therefore, there's never a reason to angrily covet someone elses capabilities. Sometimes I do struggle with feeling much less desirable/adequate as an artist than them or at a disadvantage...but I dont see how that's thwir fault...I believe one should channel that INTO inspiration to try to improve.

25. When I draw I like to put on music or a show that connects me to what I'm drawing. Maybe it's music that I feel like the character would like, or maybe a show that inspires me to create this world in the first place...the more it puts me in the world I'm drawing the better.

26. I mostly use Procreate with the Apple Pencil because I'm working to cut Adobe out of my life...but I also am well versed in Clip Studio and Photoshop.

27. For my more cartoonish style stuff...it's usually only about 5 layers in the end...but that requires a lot of creating new layers and merging throughout the process as well.

28. Oddly enough...when I draw traditionally I prefer a mechanical pencil for sketching followed up by inking with Prismacolor pens/Markers...or scanning in the pen illustration and coloring digitallyl

29. To start a drawing I like to get the line of action and rough layout of characters down then build off of that. It helps with proportions and anatomy which is not usually my strong suit.

30. What inspires me most is the stories that make an impact on me as a person. Movies, Games, Books, Shows, Comics...they have the ability to teach us in almost a parable fashion. There is usually a lesson we can learn from them...I want to do that too...I want to create and inspire. People say art is what we learn from the most left behind by past civilizations...Your creativity pushes others in ways you might not understand now.

Artist Asks!

Do you prefer traditional drawing, or digital?

How long have you been drawing?

How many classes have you taken?

Do you have a DeviantArt, personal website, or art blog?

What’s your favorite thing to draw?

What’s your least favorite thing to draw?

How often do you use references?

Do you draw professionally, or just for fun?

How much time do you spend drawing on an average day?

Are you confident about your art?

How many art-related blogs do you follow?

Is it okay for people to ask you about your process?

Do you prefer to keep your art personal, or do you like drawing things for other people?

Do you ever collaborate with others?

How long does an average piece take you to complete?

Do you draw more today than you did in the past, or do you draw less?

Do you think you’re justified in giving other people art advice?

What are you currently trying to improve on?

What is the most difficult thing for you to draw?

What is the easiest thing for you to draw?

Do you like to challenge yourself?

Are you confident that you’re improving steadily?

Do you draw more fanart, or more original art?

Do you feel jealous when you see other people’s art, or inspired? (Be honest!)

Do you like to draw in silence, or with music?

For digital artists: what program(s) do you use?

For digital artists: how many layers does a typical piece require?

For traditional artists: what medium do you like most? (Pencil, charcoals, etc)

For traditional artists: How do you usually start on a big piece? (Light sketch, colored lead, sketchpaper, etc)

What inspires you to not just make art, but to be a better artist?

[ttuesday]

my i trouble u for some soft headcannons for the VDL boys?? 🥺 🥺 ur writing is amazing and always cheers me up 💕 💕

awwwwwwww

Arthur

Arthur’s very comfortable around you so sometimes when he’s sat next to you and doodling in his journal, he’ll start to sing to himself.

If you compliment his voice, he starts blushing and stutters over his words but he’s grateful for your praise.

One of Arthur’s favourite things is when you and him are both cuddling in bed and he tells you about his day. Usually he just rambles about something while ye fall asleep but it always relaxes him and it makes him feel like a normal person and not an outlaw.

Dutch

Dutch loves dancing with you. One night when ye were both in Saint Denis after a job, Dutch heard the trumpet player preforming. He asked if you’d dance with him. The street was quiet and it was as if it was just the two of you and the music.

Dutch never understands how you could ever feel insecure or self-conscious. While you sit on his bed, Dutch kneels in front of you and listens intensely as you vent. Afterwards he holds your hand and tells you every little thing he loves about you.

When you both wake up in the morning, Dutch likes to lazily give you some kisses before getting up to face the day.

Charles

One of Charles’s favourite things to do is kiss up your body. He starts at your leg, goes up your thigh, your torso, your chest and then your neck before finally reaching your lips. As he kisses along you, he mutters compliments about how amazing you are.

If you ever fall asleep by the campfire, Charles will carefully pick you up and carry you to bed. 

Charles is so goddamn protective over you. Literally all you have to do is point at someone and Charles will throw them into Flat Iron Lake and go make sure you’re ok. 

Micah

Micah absolutely HATES when people go at his things… but you’re the exception to that rule. If you’re sitting down at the campfire or helping Pearson cook the stew, Micah normally comes over and puts his hat on your head.

It’s his way of ‘subtly flirting’ and he encourages you to wear his hat, telling you it suits you and that it makes you look like a real outlaw.

Micah can get emotional when he’s drunk but it’s the one time he truly tells you how much you mean to him. He knows he’s lucky to have met you and no matter what, he wants you by his side forever.

John

We all know John isn’t the best at art but he loves practising his drawing skills but sketching pictures of you. Sure, most of his drawings look like Jack’s done them but it’s the thought that counts... right?

John loves relaxing with you. In the evening, he sits down under a tree with you and watches life go by. It’s very simple but it’s comforting. 

John isn’t a fan of people going at his hair but he doesn’t mind it when you run your fingers through his hair. He’s even let you put a small plait into his hair once.

Bill

Bill purposely leaves his shirts lying around in the hopes that you’ll wear them. The sight of you in his shirt makes his heart soft and another part of his body very hard.

Bill never really had the time for baths but now that he’s dating you he makes sure to schedule in times to have a bath. Of course you’ll be in the bath too.

When he’s had a few drinks, Bill usually gets tired very fast so there has been a few times where he’s fallen asleep with his head resting on your lap.

Javier

Whenever you feel sad, Javier will try everything to cheer you up. He’ll sing to you, make some jokes, give you hugs and tell you funny stories about robberies he messed up in the past.

Javier was determined to help you learn the guitar when you first joined the gang. Yeah, he was using it as a way to spend more time with you and you didn’t learn much about the guitar but Javier still sees it as being a success.

If you ever get hurt, Javier prides himself on becoming Doctor Escuella and bandaging you up. Even if you just accidentally cut your finger while playing five finger fillet, Javier will take it seriously and take good care of you.

Sean

Sean loves to play fight with you. He brags about how amazing his fighting skills are and that he could show you a thing or two to help improve your skills. But of course he always lets you win.

You don’t need a blanket when you’re dating Sean. This man will literally sleep on top of you to keep you warm. I mean, he adores cuddling so he’ll fall asleep on you anyways but he says he does it to keep you warm.

He has tried to serenade you before. Sean paid Javier a few dollars to play the guitar while he loudly sang to you but Sean had to stop when Miss Grimshaw started yelling at him for being so noisy.

Hosea

Hosea absolutely adores soft kisses, especially when you’re both around camp and he sneakily gives you a quick kiss when no one’s looking.

Hosea has learned that patience is truly a virtue so whenever you’re stress or having a bad day, he knows it’s best to wait until you’re ready to vent instead of asking you a million questions about what’s wrong.

If you ever have any problems, all you need to do is tell Hosea. He gives you a small hug and reassures you that everything will be ok. And by the next morning, Hosea has somehow worked out your problem for you.

Lenny

When you can’t sleep, Lenny goes and gets you a blanket and your favourite book. He wraps the blanket around you both and reads to you until you finally drift off.

If he goes on a job away from camp and Lenny knows he’ll be away for a few days then he makes sure to leave little notes around camp for you to find. The majority of the notes are Lenny reminding you that he loves or a inside joke only you would understand.

Every morning Lenny goes and gets you tea/ coffee (whichever one you prefer, or maybe water if you’d prefer that).

[fishklok]

would it be annoying if I asked for advice? If so, ignore this ask

But like how do you make time for yourself while applying for law school? How do you have time to constantly make this amazing fanart and fics? Just asking bc I'm a college freshman and I'm losing it like I don't have time to do anything anymore!! Like shit man I just wanna draw mtl fanart and chill but literally college takes up 95% of my time. Good luck with law school btw and I apologize if this like asking TOO much

It's not annoying at all, happy to help :)

It helps that applying to law school hasn't really taken up that much of my time. At least when compared to when I was a full time employee/student. Writing my personal statements/essays did take some time, but not enough to prevent me from doing other shit too. When I actually start law school, I highly doubt I'll be able to post much of anything.

But when I was studying for the LSAT, I did have to carve out large chunks of my free time that I would normally use to write/draw to study instead. And just a few weeks ago, I took an entire day to apply to as many law schools as I could in 8 hours (pro tip: don't do that).

When it comes to taking time for myself, it really came down to recognizing my own mental needs and limits. I used to play a lot of video games, but gaming isn't really something my mind "needs" to decompress. I've been way too busy to touch any of my games, but it's really not a big deal. On the other hand, running is something I need to do. I could be absorbed into a drawing or a piece of writing or even cooking breakfast, but if that voice in my head goes "you need to go run now", I have to do it. When I'm unable to run, my mental health plummets. So that's something I can't remove from the list. And drawing/writing is somewhere between those two extremes. Drawing isn't really something I do to relax, so I can go a day or two without drawing anything. But writing is now part of my bedtime ritual. Even if it's just an extra 200-400 words, the day doesn't feel complete until I write. I can skip a day if I'm truly beaten down, but I try to avoid that.

I hope this all makes sense and sorry if this doesn't truly answer the question. I can try to put some more actionable advice together.

As I said, recognize your own needs and limits. If you're burnt out from school and writing/art will only make you feel worse, don't force it. Taking time for yourself doesn't have to involve production.

Inspiration/motivation comes in waves. I spent most of July and August barely able to finish little doodles and drawing felt like the biggest chore. Now, I'm past that hurdle and I can spend an entire free day drawing without feeling like I'm pushing myself.

I hate myself for giving this advice, but planners. I have ADHD so trust me, I hate the "get a day planner!" advice, but...it has really helped. It was more helpful pre-pandemic when I was physically going to class, but I would make a habit of writing down everything I have coming up so when I get anxious about deadlines, I can read my planner and know exactly how many days I have to do it. I usually used my planner for deadlines, but some people (my dad) will plan out their days by the hour. Right now, I mostly use my personal discord server where I'll jot down notes or things I have to remember. Whichever is helpful to you, but having a concrete thing that says "this is what you have to do and how much time you have to do it" can take a lot off my shoulders personally. Because if you have all these abstract deadlines and obligations clouding your mind it can be very easy to get overwhelmed. But if they're listed out, it's easier to go "okay, so the most pressing thing I have isn't due for a week and I'm already halfway done. I'm going to draw now."

To clarify, none of this day-planning stuff came naturally to me at all lol. It took over a decade of me missing real deadlines and panicking over nonexistent ones for me to finally develop a system. And even then I don't always stick to it as well as I should lol.

Sorry this got rambly and I worry I'm not being that helpful. But I hope at least some of my advice is useful.

[clubmates-a]

y’know how i put a tl;dr of my general hcs for yuri in one big hc dump to expand on later? well, i’m doing it again, this time with miss sayori–let’s do this, yall! <3

>her parents are actually lovely ppl, (unlike yuri’s rip), it’s just their situation sucks, you know? i’ll make a more fleshed out post abt this later, but. well, tl;dr ???– >her dad is. very sick, he’d been in-and-out of hospitals for varying periods of time, eventually settling with home visits/care instead. which leaves her mom, often out working til the late at night and generally stressed out as she tries to keep a roof over her families heads, and pay medical bills in the same breath. >and that’s probably a big reason why sayori is. the way she is, bc she’s used to putting on that happy/brave face around her family, considering their situation. both to try and help them, and also to not stress any of them out further tbh?

>her love of literature surprisingly started young–telling scary stories at sleepovers, reading fairytales, playing pretend, making silly ocs, etc etc. she’s rlly good at improv + quickly brainstorming ideas, and. nowadays, she’s really into dnd and similar things. >she has a dnd group that has sessions online, since that was easier on her w/ her depression. but even that’s too much for her sometimes, she tries, though.

>since her room is on the second floor, when she wants to relax/be alone with her thoughts, she’ll climb out her window and sit on the bit of the roof underneath. >when her and MC were kids, they’d sit out there together and stargaze, but they haven’t done that in… years. but sayori still remembers it, and thinks of it fondly. >collects a lot of little enamel pins, stickers, action figures, and comic books! probably has a ita schoolbag and a flip phone with a cutesy charm attached.

>has a goldfish named ‘kerria’, her and MC rescued (by which i mean stole) them from a kingyo sukui booth at a festival when they were kids, around ten or so. >it was getting late, so the booth was getting taken down for the day, and there was only one (1) fish left, and. sayori was worried abt what would happen to them, so! she scooped them into a fish bag, while MC kept the stall keeper distracted. >let’s be real if they had just asked the guy about it, they most likely would’ve gotten the fish with a lot less fuss, but. hey, it’s a fun memory at least, ok…

>sayori was on the track team throughout junior high, but backed out before entering senior high, both bc of a low point in her depression + being stressed out in general. she spent the next few years hopping from club 2 club, trying 2 find somewhere she belonged once again. >but, well. she’d always end up getting kicked out after a few days, if she wasn’t outright turned away because of that unlucky reputation. >almost setting the cooking club on fire, trying to act out a scene and accidentally hitting s/b while gesturing in the drama club, tripping and falling into some of the newly finished pieces in the art club, etc etc. >she was. tbh, ready to just give up and attend the go home club instead, when monika suddenly approached her about the newly forming literature club! 👀👀👀

>sayori has a habit of doodling on anything she can get her hands on, her desk, her schoolwork, her skin, etc etc. she finds the action of scribbling away v relaxing. >it’s a good way 2 keep her mind off whatever might be bothering her, and it keeps her fidgety hands busy, y'know? her art is pretty decent too, round, cartoony and colorful, wouldn’t look out of a place in a kid’s book or something, to be honest! >being a comic book fan, she also draws her own sometimes, short ones mostly starring herself and her clubmates, about any misadventures they might have! >there’s def one abt the 'wine incident’……………………………....................

>sayori taught herself how 2 play ukulele as a tween, but her interest and will to practice slowly fizzled out as she got older. until recently that is, she’s started playing again w/ support from a certain club president! >sometimes, when one of them is having a particularly bad day, sayori and monika will skip class and hang out in the school’s music room, play s/t together, and talk about whatever comes to mind.

>sayori’s feelings on monika post-game (in the good ending) are… complicated, esp after becoming club president and dealing w/ all the self-aware stuff first hand. like, she understands it, in a way? >is she still mad/upset? obviously, they were friends, or at least sayori thought they were, but monika still… y'know. but after becoming club president herself? she gets it! because it kinda sucks! like a lot! so, cool motive, still shitty, but sayori does forgive monika in the end. >but, also: she isn’t sure if her forgiveness would even mean anything to monika, bc. does she still see them as ‘just code’, or what? i mean she brought them back for a reason, but… who knows. sayori hopes it’d make her feel a little better, at least. she misses her sometimes.

>she likes video games, even if she doesn’t play them as often as MC, she WILL kick ur ass in super smash bros + mario kart, and likes animal crossing. also, there’s an arcade in town, she’s the highest score on a lot of their games. >learning to bake from natsuki, but still can’t cook worth a damn–can and will eat breakfast stuff 4 every meal if u let her. (also rlly likes cheap gas station slushies) >has lots of little rituals, like not stepping on sidewalk cracks, sorting candy by colors before eating them, making wishes @ 11:11, etc etc. it might seem silly to others, but it rlly does bother her when she can’t complete them for w/e reason. >likes making braided bracelets bc she finds the repetitive task calming, has most def made the rest of the club + MC ofc friendship bracelets, all in their 'main color’. (blue for sayori, green for monika, pink for natsuki, purple for yuri, and red for MC.)

>sayori is a earring gay, she has lots of funky ones she switches out everyday or so, having special pairs for holidays and such. she often makes a lot of them herself, with her crafty skillz(tm).

[transexualpirate]

“Perfect.”

When he first told Dean, he looked so small and helpless, almost guilty, like he expected Dean to just smack him right in the spot for daring to bring it up. Maybe that's what convinced Dean to participate. Or maybe it was the warmth that painted his cheeks when he imagined Cas smiling brightly at his kid and his... and Dean coming together to make something for him. "Father's Day, huh? Sure. Yeah, why not?" Jack smiled as bright as Cas did in his head.

so uhhhh aparently it’s father’s day in the usa? so i wrote a little something for @dadstielweek​ i hope this is okay <3 also thank you @creepyeyesandfrogs​ for the inspiration ur the best!!!

Summary: Dean and Jack have plans for Cas on father’s day. They also have some unresolved issues.

Warnings: Miscommunication, self worth issues, J*hn Winchester, brief mentions of self destructive tendencies (nothing explicit), brief mentions of sexual themes between Dean and Cas (also not explicit), background Saileen.

also, english is not my native language and i mess up sometimes! i’d much appreciate it if you warn me about any possible mistakes.

"Damn, kid, those are some bright colors you used." it was meant as a jab, but Jack only smiled proudly

"Thank you" he replied "I thought I might be using too much yellow, so his name is written in pink. See?"

Dean did. He stared at the card for a few more seconds. It read "Dad: I feel so safe with you! You always took good care of me and you hold me so gently when I can't sleep. Your the best dad ever!" in yellow, with blue doodles of bees and hearts around it, and "I love you, Castiel" in light pink at the bottom. It wasn't a work of art, but he clearly had fun doing it with some old colorful markers he found around the bunker. It was funny to Dean that a 5'8'' man had done it.

Not a man, he corrected himself. A kid. It was easier to see it in days like these.

"Yeah, it's real pretty, alright. But, uh, just a note-" Jack looked up then, his eyes wide. Dean tried not to be offended about how obvious it was that he was waiting for Dean to back down at any moment "You wrote 'your'. As in, 'your bag', 'your drink', 'your pen', you know. It's 'you're'. Like, 'you are'. You're. You're the best dad ever. Okay?"

"Oh." he looked down again. Stayed silent for a few seconds. Dean imagined he was processing this new information. Then he brought up the yellow marker and fixed it. "There. Is that it?"

"Yup. Looks perfect, kid. Cas is gonna love it."

Jack looked like someone had just told him he could eat all the candy he wanted. Dean found himself chuckling softly at him, then turned back to the cake he was decorating. He was pretty anxious himself. He knew he wasn't the best cook out there, and art also wasn't his strong spot, but he figured that writing "Happy Father's Day" wouldn't be so hard. Jack insisted in some skittles on top of it, too, because "Cas loves colorful things and he even ate some of Jack's last week and seemed to like it!". Dean wasn't so sure. He knew Cas had a weird relationship with food. He didn't need it, and hardly found any he genuinely liked. So he might not eat it at all. Or he might eat it just to make Dean feel good.

But there was something else he had in mind. Something he and Jack had picked in town last week. It was sappy and simple and exactly the kind of thing he never though they’d get to experience.

In the kitchen counter, close to the coffee machine, there was a porcelain mug wrapped with a colorful ribbon. And on it was written “BEST DAD EVER”.

Coffee was something that Cas liked. Especially when it had plenty of sugar. The mug was silly, the kind of thing you’d find at the dollar store, but it made Dean smile just thinking about it. Cas could drink from it everyday. 

Jack followed his gaze and stared at it with a smile. Then he turned to Dean, and to the cake, and seemed to understand something.

“You know he’ll love it too, right?” Dean smiled, but it wasn’t natural anymore. He wasn’t surprised when Jack didn’t buy it. “No, I’m serious. He likes chantilly. He likes chocolate cake. He likes skittles. He loves you. Why wouldn’t he like it?”

 It wasn’t planned at all. It just came out. Easy like that.

He likes all those things. He loves you.

Dean sucked in a breath but before he could reply Jack was staring back at the mug. It seemed like he was already thinking about something else. He was like that, sometimes. Too much energy, a bit like an actual child would have, and not enough place to put it. It wasn’t uncommon for him to lose his train of thought mid sentence. It’s like his own brain was a bit too fast for him.

Dean was like that too, sometimes.

He silently wondered if he should scold him for that, like his own father did to him. But he couldn’t bring himself to do so. Instead, He nudged Jack’s shoulder softly. “Go on. Use plenty of chantilly, ‘kay? You’re right, he likes it.”

Jack didn’t need to be told twice. He hopped to the fridge and got the rest of the chantilly Dean used for the cake. Gently placed the ribbon a little lower on the mug so he could pour something inside it. Turned to the kitchen cabinet and picked up a spoon, and, before Dean, he raised his index finger.

And the coffee machine started working.

Magically.

“Jack!” Dean hissed. He didn’t want to deal with that right now. “Jack, please. Don’t-”

“It’s okay!” he seemed excited “I got it.” he brought a spoonful of chantilly, and the mug floated and stood right in front of him, gravity be damned. “It’s easier this way, I can just-” he held the chantilly container with one hand, the spoon with the other, and the mug was hovering in front of him. There was no way he couldn’t see how that was dangerous.

“Jack, come on,” Dean stopped decorating the cake and reached for the mug “just put it d-”

“Whoa, guys?”

Too many things happened too fast. Sam walked through the kitchen door, rubbing his eyes lazily. Dean flinched. Hard. He thought Cas had discovered them. Jack also flinched, his eyes wide and scared, like he’d been found doing something he shouldn’t be doing. The coffee machine stopped working. The mug fell.

It shattered on the floor, before them.

“Oh, shit.” Sam said, wise as ever.”

“Oh, no, no, no, no, no! Come on! Look at it! Goddammit, kid, why did you have to- Come on!”

“Guys? Uh, sorry-” 

“I’m- I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to! I thought- I thought Cas had- I got scared, I’m sorry, Dean, I can fix this, let me just-” he gestured to it, clearly intending to use his powers again, but Dean stopped him, gripping his wrist forcefully with just a little too much strength.

“No. You’ve done enough.” Dean said, his voice cold. He wasn’t sure how exactly things could get worse, but he didn’t want to find out either. Jack struggled to get away from his hold with wobbling lips.

“Dean-” Sam placed a careful hand on his brother’s shoulder “what’s going on?”

“It’s father’s day.” Dean said “We baked a cake and bought Cas a stupid mug but now-” he sighed “the kid used his creepy ass powers and now it’s broken.”

That was like someone had slapped Jack in the face. He finally managed to get his arm free and stepped back like it had burned him. He clutched his wrist, and cried.

“I’m s-sorry...” he managed between sobs.

Dean stared.

He was crying. Outright bawling his eyes out like it was all he knew how to do. If Cas hadn’t slept in Dean’s room (conveniently far away from the kitchen, it was all thought out, that’s definetely the only reason he was there) exhausted from last night’s activities (angels don’t need sleep, per se, but they do benefit from it every now and then if they’re low on grace and already tired from... uh, hunting) he probably would have woken up.

“Oh, shit.” Dean said, for once, somewhat wise.

“I’m sorry, I’m- I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to- I shouldn’t have used th-them. It’s my fault! I didn’t- I didn’t mean-!” he stepped back again, like he was scared anyone would hurt him (or he would hurt anyone).

Dean’s heart dropped to his toes and he wanted to punch himself in the face.

“Shit, kid. No, it’s- Fuck. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- I shouldn’t have yelled like that. Fuck. Sam, a little help here?”

Sam stared at them for a second, his eyebrows knitted together. 

Dean got mad and went a bit too far. That’s happened before.

It happened a lot with John.

But Dean would always chime in and fix John’s messes for him.

Sam turned around, brought a shovel and a broom and in two swift movements cleaned the remains of the mug while Dean stared at him like he’d grown a second head.

And then he left the kitchen.

“What the fuck. Sam, what the- Sam!” but, obviously, Sam didn’t turn around. It wasn’t that he didnt care. He did. So much. He was scared that if he let them there things would only get worse. But he trusted them- he had to.

Dean and Jack needed to have this conversation by themselves.

Jack. The Jack that was pressed up against the wall crying desperately like there’s no tomorrow. Dean wanted to cry too.

“Kid. Jack. Jack, I’m sorry. Hey, listen to me.” he took a careful step but Jack didn’t even seem to notice. He was clutching his own wrist so hard Dean was scared he was going to break the skin. 

He raised his hand and slowly reached for his wrist. Jack flinched again and looked up to Dean like he was surprised that he was so close. Slowly, like he was trying to approach a wild animal, Dean held the kid’s hand and opened it, forcing him to let go.

“There we go. Careful, kiddo. You were hurting yourself.”

Jack scoffed, or tried to, but as he hadn’t stopped crying yet it sounded a little like a scared cat. “Right. Like I d-don’t deserve it.”

“No.” Dean’s voice was suddenly rough again “No, you don’t. Kid- Jack, look at me.”

Jack didn’t want to, but Dean reached for his chin softly and, carefully, as if the Nephilim was made of glass, he brought his face up.

“I-I ruined it, Dean. I broke the mug.”

“Yeah.” his voice was soft again “You did. But it’s okay. You didn’t do it on purpose. You got scared. You shouldn’t have been so careless, but you didn’t mean to do it. I know you didn’t. Okay? You just have to be more careful next time. It’s fine. You’re fine, okay? I’m... I’m sorry I yelled. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

Jack stared at him. His lips were slightly parted and his face was still tear stained. Dean ran his thumbs through his cheekbones, drying his tears softly. Jack let him.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I shouldn’t have... Used them. My- my creepy powers.”

“No, Jack, it’s okay. Those powers, they’re not creepy, okay? They’ve helped so many people before. They’ve saved us. And they’re a part of you, and you’re not creepy, okay? You’re not. I’m sorry I said that. I was wrong. And I shouldn’t have- Shouldn’t have yelled. I’m sorry, too. I’m sorry, Jack.”

Jack looked like he was waiting for the punchline. He studied Dean’s face, and eventually he stuttered out “It’s... It’s okay, Dean.”

“We both fucked up, huh?” he chuckled softly, and Jack did so too.

“Yeah. I guess- I guess we did.”

“Well, I’m the adult. I can’t let this happen again. I’m not going to. Okay? I’ll be more careful too. I just- I lost it, Jack. I’m so, so sorry. I hope you know how wrong I was. You’re not bad, Jack. You didn’t do this on purpose. You were just trying to be faster. It’s okay. You made a small mistake. It’s no biggie. I need to keep it cool next time, okay?”

“No! No, there won’t be a next time, Dean. I’ll be more careful, I promise!”

Dean smiled. “I know, Jack, I know you will. But you’re four. You’re gonna make silly mistakes like this. Your job is to try a little more everyday. Okay?”

Jack nodded enthusiastically. “I will. I’ll do my best.”

“I know you will, little guy. I will, too, okay?”

“Okay.” 

“I promise, too.” Jack smiled at that. Dean swept his hair from his face, leaned in and kissed the kid’s forehead. He beamed. And then he stopped. Dean glanced at his face.

“But, Dean... It’s, it’s broken, now. We only have the cake and the card.”

“Well, I’m sure he’ll love them, Jack.”

“Yeah, but... It’s... It’s Cas, Dean. He deserves better.”

Dean contemplated for a second. And then he smiled. Jack tilted his head in a very Cas-like fashion.

“I have an idea.”

Cas turned around in Dean’s bed, hoping to find the man laying next to him. He didn’t. 

It wasn’t unnexpected, you see, Dean woke up early everyday. Cas wasn’t used to sleeping, but when he did, he slept in late. He only needs his four hours after all. But honestly, Cas couldn’t help but wonder if there was some shame in there.

He glanced around the room and decided it would be best if he got dressed. He got up, groaning softly, then retrieved his underwear and pants from Dean’s desk. His shirt was on the ground. Tie and trenchcoat were perched on a chair. His cellphone was on his pocket. He thought about going out, maybe make Jack some breakfast, but it was still early and the kid was probably asleep. So he decided to go back to bed (without his trenchcoat, mind you, not even he is that formal).

Immediately as he laid down there was a knock on the door. “Come in!” he slurred out, still sleepy.

Whoever was on the other side hesitated. “Are you... Decent?”

Cas couldn’t stop his smile. “Yeah, Dean, I’m decent.”

“No, like... Jack- Jack is here, Cas.”

There was a laugh on the other side. “Dude?” Sam whispered. Cas decided to pretend he didn’t hear him.

“Come in, Dean. Unless you want me to put on my shoes as well.”

The door opened and the first thing Cas noticed is that Dean’s whole face was red as a tomato. The second thing was that he was holding a cake covered in chantilly and skittles and the third is that he was followed by Jack and Sam.

Oh, no, did he forget anyone’s birthday?

But they didn’t sing. Instead, Jack jumped on the bed, holding something colorful. Sam was right behind him, holding a wooden platform and placing it on the bed. It was like a support so nothing would fall. Dean put the cake on the platform and Jack placed something too.

Cas blinked.

“Uh, wh-what’s... Did I... Miss something?”

“It’s Father’s Day!!” Jack beamed. Cas couldn’t help but mirror his smile. But he was still a bit confused.

“O-okay, so...?” Jack leaped at him, involving him in a hug.

“Happy Father’s Day, dad!”

Oh. Oh! “Jack!”

“Kid’s super excited. It’s your first Father’s day without an apocalypse, after all. So, we... Yeah. We did something.” Dean tried to explain. He scratched the back of his head awkwardly. Cas stared at him like he’d personally brought him the moon.

“They did something for you, too, Cas. Look!” Sam pointed at the colorful package at the improvised table. He noticed, then, that it wasn’t a package. 

It was a mug involved by a colorful ribbon. The one he usually used. It used to be white and bland. But now, there was a blue tie doodled on it, and in Dean’s unmistakable handwriting it was written “WORLD’S BEST DAD”. It was filled with coffee and chantilly, just the way he likes it.

Cas held it in his hands and couldn’t stop the tears flooding his face. 

For a second, Jack panicked. His eyes widened and he looked between Cas and Dean questioningly. Dean reached a hand to his shoulder and whispered “I think he likes it, Champ.”

“But- But he’s crying?”

Cas sniffed loudly, then. He couldn’t explain it. He didn’t expect it. World’s best dad, him? “They’re... T-they’re tears of joy, Jack.”

Sam giggled sofly. He brought his cellphone up and started recording. He was happy he did, because just at that moment, Dean leaned down and kissed him wholeheartedly.

Like, on the lips. Full on romantic kiss. The type they show on TV. 

If Jack was surprised, he didn’t show it. But he was happy, that was clear. Sam, however, cheered them on. “Oh, fucking finally!”

Dean showed the camera his middle finger. Jack tilted his head again, and Sam zoomed in on him, mumbling something about “like father, like son”. When they broke apart, their pupils blown and panting softly, Dean cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. Cas was at loss for words.

Jack seemed to remember something, then, and shoved his card on Cas’ face with no mercy. “Oh, oh! I also made a card! And Dean baked the cake! We painted the mug together. He taught me how to draw a tie. Do you like it?” 

“Liked it? Jack, I love it. Look at it! You drew a bee, too! It’s so pretty.” he sighed contented while Dean tried to steal Sam’s phone only to find he had already sent the video to Eileen. Jack stared at him with childlike wonder, and Cas was almost scared for a moment because of how happy he was. But it was okay. He was allowed to be happy. He deserved it. “I love it. Thank you, so much. All of you. It’s perfect- you’re perfect.” he turned to Dean, with Sam’s hand on his shoulder as he cooed childishly. “I love you, Dean.” And then he turned to Jack, the kid smiling in blissful, childish naivety. “And I love you, son.”

“See?” Dean grinned, nudging Jack playfully “I told you he’d love it.”

[beccascribbles]

Hey! I wanted to ask if you could pls do some hc with Kuroo and Tendou with an artsy s/o 🐥In my school I go to an art club and I'm even the club leader and sometimes we have some presentations where each member has to show their drawings each months. Even I have to it and have to present what it shows,the meaning, inspiration etc. but I'm always so embarrassed tbh ✌🏼

a/n - omg that's so cool! my school never had an art club so if you didn't take it for gcse that was kind of it. i would be so embarrassed if i had to present my drawings though. i think i'd probably struggle explaining my inspiration?? considering i mainly draw anime boys when i do draw...

you leave doodles everywhere, picking up a napkin from the table to draw on whether you're on a date together or not

if you are on a date, it is him that you draw: his hands resting on the table, the fall of his hair across his face, the slight strain of his shirt across his broad chest

usually draw the most random things

he looked over at your sketchbook once to see a very detailed brick? he had asked why, to which you had shrugged

there never tended to be a reason behind your doodles, inspiration just suddenly hit you and you were drawing

when doing a big project, you are almost unreachable, hidden away in a world of colour

you will return back to the real world slowly, part of thinking about your next project while the other makes you wonder if it is truly completed or not

kuroo will try to join you, but he's not very good at drawing (finally something he's bad at). his talent extends to stick people and that's it

but, it's cute how he tries, his brows furrowed as he struggles to draw the landscape in front of you

has so many of your drawings in his room, ones that you've given him or that you've just left lying around

they're all stored in a little folder, one that you didn't know existed until you walked into his room to see it open on his desk

definitely pretended he wasn't embarrassed and didn't realise you were leaving more doodles around him

maybe gets a little jealous if you draw someone other than him, like if he sees you sketching lev at volleyball practice instead of him

ultimately will pretend it doesn't bother him

and, when he sees how good it turns out, it will stop bothering him

most of your clothing features paint stains

by extension, tendou also has paint stains on his from when he has grabbed you and tugged you into a hug while the paint was still wet

very very supportive

turns up for any art show you may be featured in, taking pictures of you in front of your art

surprisingly (or not so surprisingly) he isn't bad at art, though he hasn't quite mastered the art of painting yet

most of his work is done around you while he's waiting for you to finish, his work often caricatures of people he knows - no serious pieces from him

it's easy for you to forget yourself when you get really drawn into the work, often going a day without eating until you have tendou knocking on your door

tendou's not the best cook, but he does try for you, placing a plate of food down on a table and giving your forehead an affectionate poke

"come on," he mutters, "time to eat"

his hand rests on the small of your back, a gentle reminder that once you have finished with this part, it is time for a break

did beg for you to paint something for him, and was very pleased when you revealed a manga inspired canvas

[grayfilmsandstuff]

Hey there friendo! Could I get a funky madcom matchup? I'm fine with whoever (๑¯∇¯๑) This is also gonna be hella disjointed, so I apologize in advance (╥w╥)

I'm 4'11 with super dark brown eyes and hair and a baby face; most people always think  I'm much younger than I actually am (I'm 20, but just look like a forever teen I guess) I've got dreadlocks that go a little past mid back, freckles, beauty marks and light patches all over my body (not sure if its vitiligo or not), and I wear prescription sports goggles instead of normal glasses since the straps make me less likely to lose them, and Im accidentally rough on stuff sometimes

Agender, aroace with leaning for gender neutral and neopronouns, but i dont really care much in the end ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

I've got a metric shit-ton of mental illness, so my mental state is Wack™, tho I'll point out my ADHD and Autism since those are my most prominent. Paradoxical is the best word to describe me cuz I can range from feral gremlin memelord to so-quiet-you-forget-Im-there (I accidentally scare people alot cuz of this). Relatively apathetic emotionally, and I can sometimes struggle with social cues, I'm also very childish, hyperactive and immature, and can be blunt and straight forward with my words. I have a trash sense of humor (I'll basically laugh at anything), tho I do enjoy dark, self-deprecating, and/or inappropriate jokes the most. Since most people see me as "ignorant baby", I like fucking with them by just saying the weirdest shit or casually cursing because I can. Honestly, the amount of memes, shitposts, and copypastas that I've memorized just for the sake of a joke, is amazing.

I'm academically smart to a degree, with a leaning towards the sciences, maths, and engineering. Mostly a big psychology and astronomy nerd and really big into art. I've gotta bunch of sketchbooks and folders full of drawings, (mostly character designs), from over the years and too many damn color pencils (that I will continue to add on too, because fuck yeah colors). I'm really into transformers, comics, anime, video games, and true crime. I like to lift weights and have questionable eating habits (forgetting to eat is a problem of mine so I always have snacks on me, and I tend to eat things I really shouldnt; Ex. Chalk) and basically eat like a famine survivor when it comes to food. I practically inhale my food and I tend to get aggressive if someone tries to interact with me while I'm eating or cooking. All and all tho, I'm mostly here to vibe and just live in the moment.

I have a lot of cat-like habits and tend to headbutt, rub up against, and bite and/or lick people who I like; walk on my toes alot; and prefer small spaces over wide open ones. I'm also really flexible, so it's not odd to causally find me weird ass positions. Gets the nyoomies randomly and struggles with volume control (not helped by me being slightly hard at hearing), so I'll usually pace around while talking and making random noises (echolocalia basically, and I'll mostly beep, meow, trill, make Kirby noises "poyo!", etc.,), and also hand flappy! I also like to sing to myself and have a really great range (mostly on the higher end of the spectrum), as well as decent voice acting capabilities! I mirror things alot, so if I interact with someone long enough, I'll subconsciously start mimicking them and their habits (mostly verbal quirks and accents, but physical quirks too sometimes). Very much prefer hot and humid weather and get real tried/hibernate when it gets colder. For that reason, I've got a huge nest of soft blankets, pillows, and stuffed animals.

i.. . .this was so long.. . .. i love you thank you for sending in a request but note for people in the future please don't make your requests this long it makes it rough on me

this is a good example of the longest request i'll take and this is a good example of the shortest use this to your advantage

i match you wiiiiiith...

Hank!

- Hank isn't sure where you came from but he returned to the bunker with you one day and after the shock factor was over, everyone accepted it and welcomed you in

- they really like your goggles, sometimes they'll point to their own and then point to you, saying that you were matching :}

- he's got a wack mental state too, so he understands a lot of what you're going through and helps you with social cues from the other three, and just is there in general to help out

- you also help them if they feel like they need to lean onto you for comfort or help

- he actually thinks your bluntness is helpful because he's the kind of person is mostly oblivious and doesn't understand what you're saying unless you say it directly and say exactly what you mean

- they love making you laugh at the silliest things. if makes them really happy knowing that they can make you smile or laugh no matter what the circumstances are

- a lot of the time when you say a meme or a copypasta in front of him he won't understand and will ask you what it means

- "one bad gloop and she do what i yoinky two big splurgs and a big gloopy three more yoinks, then i buy me a smoothie poured up a gloop, that's a gloop and a splurgy"

- "...i'm sorry what"

- they really look up to how smart you are and it fascinates them when you'll just ramble about a topic because they know that means you're really interested in it

- you love drawing and a lot of the time you give your assorted doodles to Hank. he loves and cherishes them because what the heck how are you so talented??

- they get onto you for eating things you shouldn't. they want you be happy and healthy, not just the former

- he also enjoys watching you cook whenever you do! he tries his best to help but the big guy has no idea how you do it

- they LOVE your cat-like habits. they love cats. period. any time you'll meow or rub up against them they just melt entirely

- the first time you picked up on something he said and started mimicking it, his initial reaction was :O but it grew more into a :D

thanks for the request! i tried to keep it short with all that you provided me, have a good day my friend

[lightthewaybackhome]

Sorry this is so long. Probably should have done a 2 parter.

"My darling girl, when are you going to realize that being normal is not necessarily a virtue? It rather denotes a lack of courage!" - Aunt Frances, Practical Magic

 

My whole life, as far back as I can remember, I’ve wanted to be artistic. I’ve wanted to create. I love beauty. I love artistry. I love creation. I love the artsy look: jewelry, tattoos, flowing clothing, and funky hair. It is a personal aesthetic I keep returning to, especially as I get older. As a child, I tried so many different forms of art—painting, photography, drawing— but none of them seemed quite right. None of them got what was in my head out. All of them fell short until I started writing. Writing was a flame, a fire, a drug. Writing allowed me to express what was in my imagination. This is the first thing to understand.

Everyone is artistic and art is everywhere. I’ve believed this as long as I can remember. There are amazing artistic feats in our world: books, movies, video games, paintings, sculptures, and magnificent pieces of music. Yes, art can be very high and very special. But, art can also be found in charcuterie boards, homemade quilts, sourdough bread, cocktails, soup, and all ordinary things if we but look and see. Art can be high magic and art can be ordinary. This is the second thing to understand.

As I’ve embraced being a homemaker, a HearthKeeper, a woman where she’s meant to be, I came across the term domestic artist. As much as I didn’t like the book Eve in Exile by Rebekah Merkle, it gave me this. It gave me the term domestic artist. That stuck with me. It spoke to me because it captured both the first and the second thing. It captured the never-ceasing call to create which haunts me at all times, and it elevated and honored the ordinary in a sprinkling of fairy dust. It said, “Yes, you have to cook today. Three meals plus snacks and drinks. It’s your job, but, but, what if, what if instead of looking at it as some drudgery, some Cinderella enslavement, what if you looked at it as an opportunity to create beauty?”

Not every meal, every outfit, every moment of your day can be a work of art. Some days you just have to do what you have to do. Some days get upended in the opening credits with a broken washer or a sleepless child. Some days plans change. Life changes. One minute life looks like this, and then the next it’s on to something completely different. But, the beauty of being a domestic artist is that you can create art in any of these moments and in any setting. You can find art in any moment and in any setting.

See, the world tells us that homemaking, HearthKeeping, is boring. It tells us it’s pointless. A waste. You could be changing the world. Only dumb useless women keep their homes. And that’s because they’re either tied down by a dictator of a husband or the demands of children or the cultural trappings of their religion. Courage, dear heart. Courage! Homemaking is magic. Homemaking is flexible. Homemaking changes with the seasons and the woman. I, I am a bit bohemian, a bit rustic, a mixture of rugged and romantic. I grew up a tomboy, but have embraced being a woman in her home since I was a child. I love leather and lace. I love cottage-witch aesthetics. I love boots and long flowing things. I like deer heads, linen, skulls, and ruffles. I like feathers and dreamcatchers, but I also love to decorate with open space. I love pies and feeding my husband. But, look at this, one of my best friends is a classic. She loves clean lines, traditional and timeless pieces. She loves modern accents. She loves beachy highlights and hammocks. She’s not into farmhouse, rustic modern, or raw-edged wood. On any given Sunday, she’s in a pencil skirt, simple top, simple heels with her three daughters in matching dresses while I’m in distressed boyfriend jeans, a mullet-tucked top, and wearing my crow skull. We’re very different, but we’re both homemakers who love making our homes.

I have a woman in my life who quilts and that flows out into their decorating. So many of her things are beautifully hand sewn. If she wants it, she makes it. Another friend grew up in Africa and her home is filled with her love of that culture. One dear friend loves plants and grows amazing flowers that she uses to create Instagram-worth bouquets. Another woman isn’t super fluffy-feminine but she has an eye for remodeling and so is constantly making improvements on her home: flooring, painting, and more. My sisters, like me, both enjoy a minimalist approach to decorating and all three of us have a special place for coffee. Both my sisters’ homes are welcoming and peaceful even with kids running around like crazy.

That’s the point, the world tells women to band together, that we’re a sisterhood, that we should go out and change the world, abandoning our homes before we’re relegated to only kitchen and nursery work, but reality tells me that the most amazing women I know are busy in their homes. This is sisterhood. This is where we bloom. It is here that we have flexibility. For over five years, I’ve struggled with chronic health issues. Homemaking lets me decide each day what I can do and how I’m going to do it. Homemaking lets you change what you do for each season of life. Lots of littles? Keep it simple. Empty nest? Explore. Somewhere in between? Keep growing. Lots of energy? So many things you can expand into if you just refuse to believe the lie that homemaking is beneath you. Don’t be normal. Don’t believe that homemaking is a waste of time. Don’t buy into the lie that you are somehow being less than everyone else when you raise your children, love your husband, and create beauty. Have the courage to be strange. We were made for this! It suits us. This is an environment women thrive in.

When I got over my grammar inhibitions and started writing, I felt like my soul came alive. I felt like I’d finally found what I’d been searching for since I came into this world. It doesn’t matter whether I’m writing an epic story or writing about HearthKeeping or just word doodling, writing, words, stories just flow from me. Wonderfully, homemaking is like that for me, too. I want to read books, I want to learn, I want to talk about it, I want to do it. It’s not perfect. I don’t always feel glorious, but I do feel ‘right’ when I’m doing this. I feel like I’m where I belong. I feel like this is a place I can both rest in and grow in. I feel safe when I’m having a fatigue flare up and I feel excited when I think about all that I can do.

A real-life example: Sundays are long hard days. They’re days that generally spike my fatigue and my husband is worn out. They’re both the best and hardest day of the week. When we get home I make a cocktail and we crash. Inevitably, the minute I sit down my man asks for a snack and what we’re having for dinner. For several years, this drove me up a wall. It is Sunday. The day of REST, why is it my responsibility to always make food? Epic sigh. Epic whiny sigh. I would meal plan for the whole week and then wing it on Sunday and Monday, always with poor results and grumpiness on my part. Then, one week as I meal-planned, I realized that I could also prepare for the weekend. Lightbulb. Facepalm. Really? Why had it taken me into my 40th year of life to realize that if I want a quiet, restful, happy weekend, I should just plan snacks, drinks, and meals ahead of time? I’m going to blame it on my chronic health, brain fog addled mind. I’m going to blame it on laziness. I’m going to blame it on being a young homemaker. Some are understandable, some are inexcusable.

Sundays now involve way less stress because I can immediately prepare snacks and know what we’re eating the minute we get home. No more attitude issue. No more stress. Easy and nice.

Did this change the world? Does this matter to anyone but myself? Did my husband even notice? Maybe not, but this is homemaking. This is HearthKeeping. It is my job and my calling. Even without notice or world-shattering consequences, I’m pleased with the outcome. More than pleased, I’m really happy about it. It brings me joy and delight to find a better way to take care of my family. It allows me to sprinkle my Sunday afternoon with just a little bit of artistry. I make drinks, snacks, dinner. I feed my family.

See, one of the lies that the feminists preach is that we’re wasted in our homes. And yet, the majority of the women I know who work outside the home aren’t doing glamorous jobs. They’re not travel bloggers or world-renowned chiefs or CEOs. They’re cosmetologists, retail workers, bank tellers, nurses, teachers, and such. Now, none of those are bad. Working outside the home isn’t bad. (I think each family has to decide what family looks like to them.) Please, please, don’t read that as degrading. I worked retail and I think retail is important. These are all God-honoring employment in which you can strive and serve. I’m not bashing any of those jobs. I have many many dear friends who work outside the home. What I am saying is that I think we as women need to ask ourselves if leaving our homes en masse was worth it. Has it given us all the joy, delight, and fulfillment the feminists promised us?

I’ve done both. I’ve been a co-owner of a business that I helped grow from nothing to something amazing. I’ve worked as an everyday retail worker. I write and am the main editor for a small neighborhood magazine. And I’m a HearthKeeper. I will tell you right now, no qualifications, that HearthKeeping is the most satisfying job I’ve ever had. It not only challenges me every day but it also works with me. The boundaries are what I set in place and so I grow as I can. The work never ends, yes, but it also never ends. There is always something else to explore.

I think being a homemaker is largely attitude. You can buck against what you do, and most women do. Just spend two minutes on Pinterest looking at doing laundry or dishes and the bitter hatred comes pouring out. Look at the complaints women make against their churches: we’re relegated to doing nursery work and kitchen duty. What if, just for a moment, we decided to be Domestic Artists? What if, for just a moment, we tried loving our jobs instead of complaining? What if we thought that dishes meant food and good times and healing of the souls around us? What if we saw laundry as a way to keep beauty and cleanliness around us? What if we saw it as our privilege and delight to take care of the food, children, clothing, cleaning, cooking, gardening, growing of the next generation, and the men of the world? What if we embraced the domestic arts and saw them as truly magnificent, glorious, unique arts? How many of us would be able to say with a straight face that working retail is more fulfilling than managing a small world? Is it more fulfilling to go work in an office than it is to orchestrate a place of welcome, rest, and renewal for your husband and yourself? It might be more visible, but is it truly more long-lasting?

I can say that it isn’t. I can say that I think being a homemaker is uniquely suited for women and that we should have the courage to go against the grain of our world and say no. No, I’m not going to give all of myself to work outside the home when the home is far more challenging and interesting. No, I’m not going to believe the lie that homemaking is oppression and boredom. I will find beauty in the ordinary and I will embrace art in the everyday. This is one of those amazing jobs where it is what you make it. It is what you pour into it. If you think it’s boring or demeaning you won’t get anything out of it. If you think it is challenging and rewarding, you will get the world out of it. You will grow yourself and those around you. Think about what a wonderful thing it would be if we made our homes our careers! If we women really took on the label Domestic Artist in our own individual ways.

[ohkiyo]

characters: shiratorizawa team and reader.

warnings: a bit of cursing.

word count: 3.6k

a/n: shoutout to cloud anon for giving me such marvelous ideas, each one you sent were all so funny it just made my day even better. I do hope you’ll like this one, I got a bit excited to post this, so please don’t mind the mistakes hahaha nor any of the grammatical errors. :D

music I listened to while writing this:

ようかい体操第一  | Dream5

morning smile | nom tunes

your happiness is my happiness | nom tunes

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    shiratorizawa navigation || stth navigation

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

“What’s the answer on number 4?” Yamagata scratched his head with his pencil, staring at his exercise paper on the table, the numbers not making any sense to him anymore. He could feel his fingers starting to hurt from the amount of times he had been pressing the buttons of his calculator, but he could still not find the answer he was looking for, the calculator’s screen displaying syntax error.

“It’s 126.76” Reon replied, not looking up from his own paper as he concentrates on his own set of problems. It had been easy, the first few questions were doable, nothing out of the ordinary, however, when he reached numbers 10 and above he swore the teacher was high when he made that exercise. 

I mean, what’s the point of making a multiple choice question when the answer is not even in the choices.

“What? I thought it was 116” now Semi was starting to get even more frustrated, he was sure his answer was correct, he even searched up a tutorial on YouTube on how to solve that particular equation. 

“You need to add the 10, not subtract it” Shirabu corrected, as Semi erased his current answer and started replacing it with the right one. Mumbling to himself how the fuck is calculus useful in the real world, you don’t see people adding a and b to buy a sack of rice, nor finding x to purchase fruits in the market. 

Math is ridiculous; he hopes that whoever invented this shit suffers in hell.

“Let’s rest for now” Ushijima suggested, closing his notebook as he rested his pencil on top of it. Aware of just how everyone was getting stressed. 

“Where did Satori go?” Semi looks around the room, noticing that the redhead had disappeared. “Taichi and Tsutomu too”

“They went out to go get food” 

“They did?”

Yamagata nodded his head, lazily going through the books stacked on top of Tendou’s desk, most of them were manga that he had read and re-read, while the others were borrowed books from the library that he had never bothered to return.

There was a knock on the door, as Semi who was the closest, stood and opened it to reveal the people they have been looking for a while ago.

“We’re back!” Tendou announced cheerily, a tupperware in his hands as he entered the room, followed by Kawanishi, Goshiki and someone unfamiliar.

“Who’s that?” Shirabu pointed, raising a questioning brow at the person’s choice of clothing. An oversized sweater, shorts that reach below their knees and a swan patterned socks.

“What do you mean? That’s (Y/n)” you lift your hand up in a wave, the sweater’s long sleeve covering your own arm. A wide smile on your face, as you sat down on the floor along with them, Semi closing the door and locking it.

“What?”

No words left their mouth as they stared at you, you looked pretty convincing as a boy, the wig you wore accentuated your face just right. However, did Tendou really have you wear a wig that was an exact replica of Goshiki’s signature bowl-cut? Of all the millions of hairstyles he could choose from, really?

“Did you just smuggle her in?” Reon asks in disbelief. “How did you do it?”

“(Y/n)’s so small nobody noticed her” you swat Kawanishi with your sweater sleeve as he snickered, ruffling your hair before opening the bag you brought with you. Taking out different containers full of food, plates, chopsticks and other eating utensils.

“Where’d you get all these from? Did you order take-out?” Semi took a bite of the chicken strip, humming in satisfaction at the delicious taste, before taking another piece.

“(Y/n) was stress cooking again” Goshiki answered as he helped Ushijima clear the table, with you carefully placing the foods in the middle and Shirabu spreading the utensils on the table.

“Are you having problems with your academics again (Y/n)?” Ushijima inquired, pouring himself a glass of water as everyone situated themselves around the table, offering their thanks and serving themselves with the food you cooked. 

“I have an oral recitation tomorrow and I’m worried I’ll mess it up” you replied, biting on your chopstick. “The subject teacher isn’t very nice either, I’m scared of her”

“Who’s the teacher?”

“Tachibana-sensei”

Hearing the familiar name, both third years and second years involuntarily shuddered. Memories of their days as her students resurface, the struggle they experienced trying to hold onto the thin thread keeping their grades up were a bit traumatic.

Tachibana-sensei was the kind of teacher that students hate the most, she enjoys giving surprises, surprise quiz, surprise recitation, heck, even her exams are a surprise. It’s rare for her to even give her students the time to fully study their material, and for those who were under her knows that when she does, she’ll be firing questions one after the other, until her students are unable to give her answers leaving her disappointed.

“May the gods be in your favor (Y/n)” Tendou clapped a hand on your shoulder as he gave you a sympathetic smile. His eyes silently telling you ‘You’re screwed’

Goshiki noticed the look of terror flashed on your face, your hand shaking out of pure nervousness as you almost spilled the food on your plate. Does Tachibana-sensei really have that kind of reputation? He never had her as his subject teacher in any of his classes, well for now at least, but he sure is thankful, he didn’t need that kind of problem in his first year of high school.

“Don’t scare her” Semi hits Tendou with a notebook, scolding him for scaring you as you now sat there frozen, your mind going through the possible outcomes that might happen tomorrow. 

“You’ll be fine, don’t worry about it. You’re smart” Shirabu’s words of encouragement did help you relax a little, but the fear still lingered in your mind. You felt something prodding at your lips, you focused your eyes in front of you to see Kawanishi holding up a piece of chicken near your mouth.

“Eat first, I can help you with it later” He says in between mouthfuls as you open your mouth, accepting the food. Nodding at his offer.

You will worry about your demon of a teacher later, for now, you’re going to enjoy your food.

“By the way Satori, I saw this earlier” Yamagata pulled out a scrapbook from under the stacks of manga on the desk. The front cover is littered with stickers, and doodles, a very Tendou-esque kind of design.

"Oh that's where I’ve compiled the photos I took, I’ve just started so it’s not done yet" Tendou answered, watching as Yamagata opened the scrapbook, and going through the pictures. "Photography's my newfound hobby now"

"That photography workshop was only once, I didn't know you actually took it seriously"

"It’s a form of art Eita-kun" the red head held up a finger, going on and on about how it captures all the once in a lifetime moments we experience, and how pictures hold the memories they make together.

Tendou started getting sappy with his explanation, Semi had to shove an onigiri in his mouth to stop him from talking.

"Do you have a soft copy of these pictures Tendou?" Ushijima questioned, reading through the captions Tendou pasted around each photo. "I need a copy"

"I'll send it to you later Wakatoshi-kun" 

"You have another one?" Shirabu held another scrapbook in his hand. "How many do you have?"

"I have three" Shirabu flipped through the pages of the one he's holding, noticing that most of the pictures were of the second years in the club, but majority of them were of him and Kawanishi. 

"Where's the other one?" 

Tendou patted around in his bed for a moment, feeling for the familiar hard bound of the scrapbook before he finally found it resting under his backpack.

"These are pictures of the first years" You became interested, peeking over Semi's shoulder as he flipped through the pages. "Oh I remember this one." 

It was a picture of both you and Goshiki asleep inside the bus, your head resting on his shoulder and his head resting over your own. A jacket covering your bodies acting as a blanket. Below there was a text saying, The babies first away game.

"Tendou-san, we're not babies anymore." Goshiki reasoned but Tendou refused to agree to the first year.

"Oh hush, in my eyes you two are still babies." to emphasize his point, Tendou squished both your and Goshiki's cheek. Grinning at the pout now resting on your face. "See? Just adorable!"

"You're playing favorites, you know" Reon watches as Tendou continues to coddle the two youngest members in their group. The both of you trying to get away from Tendou refuse to let go.

Semi flipped to another page, this time there was a picture of you and him. Both of you standing near the grill as he teaches you how to properly cook meat, while you eagerly wait by the sides, all the while watching the meat being grilled on top of the fire. Eyes almost sparkling at how mouthwatering it is. At the bottom another caption was written, baby’s first barbecue.

"I think I found my new favorite" Semi looked up from the photobook he's holding, to Tendou still gushing over Goshiki and (Y/n). "Satori, send me a soft copy of this one"

"Roger!"

Finally, after almost thirty minutes both you and Goshiki were finally able to push the red head away as you all clean up the dirty dishes, throwing away the plastics and food crumbs into the trash can. Then resuming to their study session.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

The next day, morning practice was starting a bit later than usual so the gym was still half empty, the only occupants were the regulars who decided to come early and do their own pre-practice warm ups. Semi was doing his usual jump serves with Yamagata receiving the balls to practice more on his digs. While on the other net, Shirabu was practicing with Goshiki after some begging from the first-year’s side.

You watch as Semi spins a ball on his hands, licking his lips, something he does whenever he’s trying to pinpoint where he wants the ball to land before throwing it in the air and jumping. Cringing at the sound of his palm colliding with the ball and watching as Yamagata runs to receive it.

“That was by the line!” your eyes went wide in awe, running to retrieve the ball and jogging back to Semi’s side of the net. As Yamagata let out a sigh wiping his sweat with his shirt.

“That’s the kind of serve that will annoy you the most”

Semi bounce the ball a few times, before pausing and turning to you. “Do you want to try (Y/n)?”

You nodded your head, eager to learn from one of the best servers in your team. You always find them very cool whenever they do those awesome spikes and jump serves. To you, they look like they’re flying whenever they jump so high, you were feeling a bit envious about it.

Standing beside Semi, he explained to you how to angle your hand properly and the timing of when to hit the ball.

“What’s your dominant hand?” 

You lift up your left hand and said “This one”

“Oh? You’re a lefty [1] too?” the both of you turn to look at the ace to see that he had started listening as well “Just like Wakatoshi”

“Try doing a normal serve for now” standing by the service line, you readied your position, as Yamagata took a receiving stance at the other side of the net.

“Give it all you’ve got (Y/n)-chan!”

You nodded your head, throwing the ball, watching it before hitting it with your hand as hard as you can, which was a lot for a newbie. Yamagata dove to get the ball, the object bouncing off his arm and shooting off to the side.

“One point for (Y/n)!” you heard Tendou’s voice from the other side of the gym as Semi applauds your good work. You started feeling giddy, hitting that ball was so satisfying you feel like the stress you were currently having this morning was starting to ease just a little bit.

“Do it again (Y/n)-chan!” Goshiki’s voice reached your ears as he abandoned Shirabu, who let out a sigh of relief, finally able to take the rest he had been wanting.

“How about a jump serve?” Ushijima suggested, as he too walked to your group, now interested in your new found talent.

Semi twirled the ball in his hand, biting the inside of his cheek. “That one’s a bit tricky Wakatoshi”

“She can do it” Ushijima turns to look at you as Goshiki keeps on slapping your back, getting excited for some reason, and honestly, you were excited as well. Ushijima rarely shows this kind of interest, so for someone who only learned the basics of volleyball through reading the manual and watching it, it was a shock for you.

“Can I?” you ask, your eyes sparkling “It never hurts to try”

Now, with you looking at him like that, how could Semi say no? you just look so cute he really has to stop himself from pinching those cheeks of yours.

“Alright, but I think Wakatoshi can teach you better” Semi threw the ball to Ushijima who nodded his head, wordlessly taking his position at the serving line. You watch how he handles the ball, you don’t even know if there’s a difference with righties serving compared to the lefties, but you paid attention anyways. Watching him run, jump and hit the ball as hard as he can.

Semi just sighed, Ushijima didn’t even say anything, he just did what he normally did. As if expecting you to learn something from it. But then again, Ushijima did the same thing to Goshiki once when the first-year asked how to improve his line shots, he can’t judge too soon.

Bouncing the ball a few times, you threw it in the air watching as you slowly run before jumping and serving it to the other side, the ball hitting the back line.

“Two points!” Everyone cheered for you, the others sporting surprise looks on their face. Jump serves were very hard to do, most would normally be hitting the net or the ball going out of bounce. But you, just one look at a live sample and voila, success.

“Do it again, (Y/n)-chan! This time I’ll make sure to receive it!” you grin at Yamagata’s challenge, doing the same thing you did the first time. You hit the ball with the hardest one you could muster. Watching as it spins fast, going past Yamagata and narrowly hitting Coach Saito in the face.

The coach blinks, frozen on his spot as he silently thanks whatever deities that decided to grace him with their blessings. Everyone was quiet, shocked at what just happened. He turned his head, his eyes scanning whoever was the culprit of his near death experience only to see you standing at the service line.

“I-I think that’s enough for now” he cleared his throat, tucking the clipboard he’s holding under his arms “Let’s prepare for practice”

You all nodded your head, gathering the stray balls and tossing them into the basket, mopping up the sweat that dropped on the floor as the rest of the members started piling into the gym.

Practice went by pretty fast, Coach Washijou had to cut it short because exam week was approaching and according to the school rule book, extracurricular activities must be shortened in order to give the students more time to study. 

They were currently having their post practice snacks, filling their hungry stomach with some delicious food as they rest their body. Practice may have been short but it doesn’t mean Coach Washijou made it easy, in fact, he made it even harder.

You were sitting cross legged on the floor, finishing up the notes you were writing earlier, sipping on a juice box you brought with you while your other hand moved across the white pages of your notebook. 

Seeing as your pen was running out of ink, you placed your juice box on the floor then reaching over for your bag to retrieve another one. Just as you were about to take another sip of your drink, it slipped from your grasp, landing on your lap, its contents spilling over your notes.

“Motherfucker” you were too focused cleaning yourself up that you didn’t hear Semi’s dramatic gasp, the curse that left your lips was foreign to his ears as he had never heard you say such a vulgar word before.

“Uh-oh”

Those who were closest to the door quietly slipped out, they knew what was coming next, and they’re not going to be a part of it. The coaches watched from the sidelines as Semi started lecturing them about their choices of words, reminding them that no swear words allowed in the presence of the first years.

Washijou-sensei shot his assistant a look, eyebrows raised “It was you, wasn’t it?”

Coach Saito sheepishly scratches his cheek, as he remembers how the swear word left his lips yesterday when he hit his hip at the side of the table. Not realizing that you were standing outside, ready to give to him the report he requested. 

He didn’t even know that such a thing was forbidden within the club, he quickly reminded himself to watch his language the next time the first years were around, he doesn’t want Semi going all mama mode again.

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

Lunch was spent eating together in the cafeteria, sitting at their usual table as they enjoyed the break from their tiring classes. Although the dining area was pretty rowdy, it did serve as a distraction from whatever their teachers prepared for their afternoon sessions.

“Today’s korokke has shrimp in it” Tendou took another bite of the fried dish, the food still hot and fresh. “Yummy”

“But…” Kawanishi started, his eyes shifting over to you as you munch on your own piece of korokke “(Y/n)’s allergic to shrimp���

The table went quiet as they all looked at you, they didn’t know that, why didn’t you tell them?

“Oh my god, her allergy is reacting” Semi stood up from his seat as red dots started to appear on your face, you gave the remaining korokke to Goshiki as you scratch your arm, your whole body feeling itchy.

“Let’s take her to the infirmary”

They quickly led you to the nurse’s office, the red dots that were just around your mouth had now spread all over your face. Looking as if you had just contacted chicken pox.

Thankfully, the nurse was still in her office when they arrived so you were immediately given some medicine to stop your allergy from becoming worse.

“You’ll have to go back to your room and take a rest for the rest of the day, then come back tomorrow again so I could give you another check-up. Alright?”

She handed you the excuse note for you to give to your teachers the next day as you stood up from your seat, thanking the nurse then exiting the room to see that the boys had waited for you outside.

“So, what did she say?”

“I’m excused from my classes this afternoon” you showed them the paper the nurse gave you. Shirabu reading through what she wrote, Kawanishi reading the paper’s contents from over his shoulder.

“I need one too”

“Why? are you sick?”

“No, I just want to skip class today”

Semi sighs at what the middle blocker just said, if anything, Kawanishi was definitely the laziest among them all. Always looking for ways to avoid any activities he finds energy consuming, Semi was quite surprised Kawanishi had not tried sending their coach a fake medical certificate just so he could skip practice for a few days.

Oh wait, he did, and he got away with it.

“You look like a tomato” Goshiki pokes you on the cheek, the redness slowly fading but your face still slightly swollen. “Tomato-chan~”

Tendou grinned at the cute nickname, tomato-chan? He was so going to start calling you that from now on.

“Oh wait (Y/n), let me take a picture of you first. This would be a great addition to my scrapbook” Tendou patted his pockets for his phone but he felt none. “Eh?”

“What’s wrong?”

“I think I left my phone in the cafeteria” Tendou answered, slipping his hand inside his pockets for good measure, but the device was nowhere to be found. “Reon let me borrow your phone for a bit”

Reon shook his head “I left mine in the cafeteria as well”

“What?!” Tendou turned to look at the rest of the members as they too shook their heads.

You chuckled, patting his back “Guess there won’t be any funny photos of me for the time being” you started walking away waving at them. “See you tomorrow”

They waved back as they went back to the cafeteria, until a phone ringing cut through the silence. Ushijima stops in his tracks, fishing the phone from his pocket as he realizes that he forgot he brought it along with him the whole time.

“Wakatoshi-kun, why didn’t you tell me you had your phone with you?”

“I apologize Tendou, do you still want to take that photo?”

They turned their heads to the direction you left but you weren’t there anymore. Tendou’s shoulder slump, the opportunity to finally have a derpy picture of you gone and would probably be far into the future.

Yamagata just let out a laugh. “It seems like the goddess Kichijoten [2] favors (Y/n) more than anyone else”

«──────────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ────────────»

[1] I’m a lefty so yeah, self promo I guess lol.

[2]  she’s the Japanese goddess of beauty.

[mc-i-r]

The poem

Summary: Roman finds an unusual notebook on a certain sides desk. What he finds inside is... surprising.

Pairings: platonic Prinxiety

TW: mentions of self-harm, mentions of hospitalization, mentions of blood, angst of course, brief mention of eating disorder, poor self image, major fluff at the end don't worry ;)

Let me know if I missed any triggers!

Word count: 2,172

---

Roman was walking around the Mindpalace when he passed by a door. He stopped, finding the door particularly weird. It's dark colors and purple highlights were not what caused Roman his sudden stop. No, it was the fact that the door was open.

‘That’s weird. Panic! At the Everywhere always leaves his door closed. In fact, he makes sure of it. I better check and see if he’s okay.’ Roman thought to himself.

He looked around him, making sure no one was in sight just in case the lovable emo was having a private crisis. After confirming it was safe to enter, he creaked open the door, sticking his head in only a little bit just in case, not wanting to invade someone's privacy.

“Hello? Virge? Your door was open so I wanted to check if you were okay,” Roman said in a hushed voice, in case the side was sleeping. After receiving no response, Roman opened the door wider, walking fully into the room.

Now, despite common belief, Roman had only been in Virgil’s room once before during Accepting Anxiety and had not returned unless asked; which so far have been the grand total of zero times. Roman looked around the barely-lit room. A lot had changed since he was last in there. The room felt lighter, not by colors but by the overall feeling. He knew that the first time he was in this room the effects were dangerous, affecting them all quickly and severely. But now, there was no feeling. The feeling of doom and nervousness he felt was gone, replaced with a sense of focus and overall awareness. It somehow calmed the Prince, making him feel like he could focus on the tasks at hand and making his dreams reality through achievable means. It was a good feeling, and Roman always growing addicted to it.

He took in the scenery; dark purple walls, fluffy gray carpet, and a single bed in the center of the wall with a black comforter and purple pillows. A nightstand with a single lamp that looked almost never used sat beside the bed with a desk under the window adjacent to the bed, notebooks and art supplies all over it. Two doors stood on the right wall, one to the bathroom and the other to the closet. There were posters all over the walls, most from those emo bands and a few from The Nightmare Before Christmas, which Roman absolutely adored. Despite it not being Romans taste, he liked the room. It was comforting, like you could just snuggle up in a thick blanket and sleep through the winter.

Roman walked over to the desk, curious to what the emo nightmare’s art style is. He found mostly sketches, many of the other sides in relaxed poses. There were some of Patton cooking in the kitchen and others of Logan reading a book on the couch. Others were the Prince himself, writing down ideas in his trusty notebook or singing along to a movie on one of their many movie nights. Roman smiled at the papers.

‘So that's what he’s doing all the time. Aww, the emo really does care,’ Roman thought. He knew Virgil cared about them, he could tell. Virgil had come a long way, they all had. Roman admired Virgil for it, for being able to make that personal growth all on his own. It was something not many could do.

Roman looked over the rest of the desk, noticing an open notebook that he had never seen before. Virgil was always doodling or sketching in his sketchbook but this book was different. It was a black leather-bound book, about an inch in thickness, that had words upon words written on it. The whole page was covered in writing. And Roman was curious.

‘Must be some type of journal. I wonder what’s in it? No, Roman, that's being nosey. But it’s so enticing. Who knows what he has in there! Okay, fine. One page, okay? Only one page and then you put it down, okay?’ Roman argued with himself.

Upon his decision, he picked up the notebook, placing his thumb on the current page to make sure he could put the notebook back without being caught. He flipped back near the beginning of the book, scamming over the titles. Most pages were filled with rants on varying topics, ranging from other sides to whether or not squirrels are real. The other pages, however, caught Roman’s eye. They were writings; short stories, writing prompts, poems, and much more.

Roman saw a title that caught his eye.

“‘Isn’t it funny?’. Hmm, sounds interesting enough,” Roman said aloud to himself. It was a poem and Roman, being the fanciful romantic he was, was intrigued.

He adjusted his grip, holding the book so the page was illuminated by the hallway light that seeped in from the still-open door. Focusing on the page, he began reading.

‘Isn't it funny how nobody cares?

Until you're laying on the floor getting horrified stares

As blood pours out of the cuts that you've made.

Each arm marked by a single razor blade.

The pool of blood slowly grows around you

And the people staring wonder how this is what it's come to.

One leans down to check if you're breathing.

It's steady but slow, slowly leaving.

You wake up later in a hospital bed.

Your arms are sore and you rub your head,

Wondering what the hell happened and where you are now.

And you look at the people in the room and wonder, how?

How could they stand there and look at your face?

How could they stand to give you an embrace?

They act like they care in the hospital room.

But you know-oh you know- that it's really a tomb

Where all your secrets and shame slowly die.

But you harden your gaze and slowly sigh

As they ask why you did it or why you tried

To take your own life and they break down and cry

You look up slowly and shake your head

Saying "you should've just left me I'm better off dead"

They quickly say that they simply didn't know

That they would've helped if you only let it show

But you shake your head and look off to the side

Avoiding their gazes as you let out a shaky sigh

You slightly chuckle but not from amusement

You speak softly, your voice raspy from not using it

"Its funny how you care now that the damage is done.

Where were you when it all begun?

When I cried myself to sleep in the corner of my room?

When I cut my skin to rid me of this fleshy tomb?

When I stopped eating meals that made me too fat?

When I looked in the mirror and subconsciously spat?

I don't want your pity or your false sorrow.

Cause I'm just going to feel the same tomorrow.

I'm hanging on by a single hair

Cause isn't it funny how nobody cares?"’

By the time he was done reading, Roman was in tears.

‘How could he think of himself like that? We-I was so...horrible to him. Is-is this what he was going through while I was being so mean to him? Was he...was he thinking about doing those...those things? Did he do those things?! Does he still think that way? What if he still thinks we hate him? What if he’s always thought that and never stopped? What if he-what if he tries-’

“Princey?”

Roman’s thoughts were cut off by a hesitant hand on his shoulder, making the crying side snap his head around to see who was touching him. He found Virgil, looking at him with clear concern written all over his face, wondering why the Princely side was crying. His gaze flicked over to the notebook still held in the Prince’s hands and his face went deathly pale.

“Princey, listen to me. It's not what you think-” Virgil started.

“...is it true? Do you feel like this? Do you… do you do those...things?” Roman asked, voice small and fragile. He looked up at Virgil with sad eyes, praying to every god out there that it wasn’t true. Virgil only sighed, giving Roman a sad face that said everything.

‘Its true. All of it. The feelings, the emotions, all of it. Oh god-’

“...what have I done?” Roman said aloud, mostly to himself. At those four words, the Prince launched himself at the emo, dropping the notebook and wrapping the small side in a tight hug, crying into his shoulder. Virgil, who wasn't prepared for this, stumbled backwards a bit but caught himself, wrapping his arms around the crying side to try and calm him down.

Roman gripped Virgil’s baggy jacket, guilt taking over his mind. He wanted to hold Virgil forever, make sure he never feels that way again. He wished he could take it all back. Start over, make everything disappear and get a fresh start. God, that's all he wanted.

‘It's all my fault. It's all my fault. It’s all my fault.’

“...it’s all my fault,” Roman whispered out through cries. Virgil tightened his grip slightly and pulled back so Roman could see his face.

“Hey, hey, no it’s not. It's not your fault, okay? Look at me Roman,” Virgil said. The usually energetic side was drained, slowly lifting his head to meet Virgil’s gaze.

“None of it was your fault, okay? You only acted the way you did because you were told to act that way. I don’t blame you. No one does. We were all in the wrong okay? Don’t blame yourself for something you had no control over,” Virgil said, holding the other by the arms.

“But I could have done something. I should have done something. I knew you were just doing your job and I still treated you like shit. You deserved-deserve so much better than that. You-you make us better, Virgil. I mean that every time I say it. You make me better. To think that I drove you to those..those things it- it destroys me,” Roman said, tearing up again near the end.

“Roman, you did not make me do those things. In fact, what I did to myself was no one’s fault but my own. In fact, I never did it because I got too anxious about someone finding out or if I would bleed out and, well, the list goes on and on. That's why I have that notebook. I use it to write down my feelings so they don’t escalate. It was a complete accident, actually. I dropped a glass and cut my hand so when I started cleaning it up I began thinking about what it would be like to hurt myself and what would happen. So me, being the literal embodiment of anxiety, thought of almost every possible scenario and that was one of them. I wrote it down and decided to make it into a poem to occupy myself. I would never do any of that, not after all I’ve been through. Not after all you have helped me through. I could have never been the person I am today without you, Roman. You helped me learn from my mistakes and grow from them. You saved me, Roman,” Virgil said.

He was teary-eyed and grabbed Roman's hands. Speaking of Roman, he was crying his eyes out; half out of sadness still and half out of pure joy that the poem wasn’t all true. Roman threw his arms around Virgil yet again, hugging him so tight Virgil thought he would pass out. Virgil hugged back, smiling slightly and patting the others back in comfort. Roman pulled back, still hanging on to Virgil by his arms. Virgil wiped Roman’s tears away with his jacket sleeve, making the Prince blush out of pure contact.

“Hey, Princey, you got a little something on your face,” Virgil said, teasing.

“Oh shut it,” Roman said, smiling. Virgil smiled back, glad to see the other smiling again. God, that smile.

“There it is, there's that smile I was looking for,” Virgil said. Roman just smiled brighter and Virgil laughed. He actually laughed.

“Come on, Princey. I think Logan and Patton are helping Thomas with something so we have the Mindpalace to ourselves. Want to have a mini movie night?” Virgil asked. Roman smiled.

“After that emotional roller coaster? Hell yes,” Roman said. The two made their way downstairs, grabbing their blankets off their beds as they went, and snuggled into the couch. Virgil grabbed a few snacks while Roman picked a movie, which turned out to be Moana since it was his emotional support movie. They settled down to watch the movie, enjoying their time together.

A couple hours later, Logan and Patton returned from their errand with Thomas, coming home to see the two sides cuddled together on the couch fast asleep, the end credits of Moana still rolling on the tv screen.

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A/N: Well...there you have it! My first oneshot I've posted! I've got a ton more so if you'd like to read more, let me know. I'm open to suggestions so message me, send asks, or tag me anytime! Anywho, hope you enjoyed :)

Taglist:

@whattheremus (sorry if you didn't wanna be tagged, I just thought since you said yes you'd like to know :) )