#not letting me import pictures

[tv-does-art-ig]

WIP

refrence in progress

[willosword]

velvette giving vox a lil kissy kissy through her phone bc he made her laugh is literally everything to me

[chiropteracupola]

A very fine captain, and a finer friend.

[offlineblues]

VRAINS 1st episode anniversary is today‼️🏄‍♂️

[whollyjoly]

hot in the day, hot in the night, hot as the coal coming to tread, light on your bed, here we go oh, listen whistle roll (baby the, the sun is getting low)

the bucktommy cowboy au nobody asked for part two (part one) (part three)

(song insp.)

[somegrumpynerd]

I really do like your Dadmare AU

It gives me comfort & I'm a huge fan of the Dadmare concept ❤️

Eeeeeee thank you!! <3

I'm glad to hear it brings somebody comfort, if there's two things I want my art to be in this fandom it's silly and soft so I'm happy it's working so far :D And yeah, I know a lot of people aren't into it cause it's super fanon and ooc but I'm just a huge sucker for criminal found family, so I'll keep on clocking in for my shift at the dadmare factory o7

Also I wanted to do a couple of dadmare doodles for you since this ask made me happy and uh, one of them kinda got away from me I don't know if you can tell

^A picture Dream captions: My brother and the son he "doesn't have"

[cyanidesouffle]

Okay but why the f*ck did they put Winston on the cover for Imagine me??? 😂😂🥴😭

Don't try to argue that that's Warner. Warner doesn't wear glasses. It's literally the exact same picture as the wiki uses for Winston anyway. Glasses, book, blue shirt.

[crescentfool]

ryomina for the splatoon plaza! they are listening to music ☺💗

[jakes3resin]

Modern Reincarnation AU Part 4 ✨️

Part 3

"John?"

Bucky storms past Jack into the townhouse. It's rude, but he'll apologize later. He doesn't know why he came here instead of his apartment. Old habits dying a hard drawn out death, maybe? He hadn't been thinking clearly. Hadn't been thinking at all really until he found himself waved through by his father's security detail.

"Oh, is that John?" He hears his father call out, dress shoes clicking against hardwood as he walks closer, but Bucky stomps up the stairs towards his room before he sees the man. His breaths come out in rushes as tears keep burning his eyes.

Shit, he thought he'd gotten those under control on the train.

Slamming his door, he slides down until he rests against the floor. He tosses his bag to the side wincing at the sound it makes. Hopefully his laptop survives. At some point he does actually have to do the work he went to the library to finish.

The library.

Buck and Curt.

They wouldn't, Bucky tells himself. They wouldn't. Curt was one of his best friends, and Buck loved him. They...

Fuck they were roommates! Why the hell were they talking about that shit in public? In the place Bucky considered his? Why even pretend? Why drag Bucky into this? Why?!

Bucky buries his face into his hands. His chest hitches as he tries not to sob. He doesn't want his father or Jack to worry about him. He doesn't want to talk this through.

He wants...

He wants Buck. He wants the other to pull him into his arms. To kiss him again as if today had never happened. There was something else about being with Buck, something he'd never felt with anyone else be they friend or lover. He made Bucky feel safe and wanted. Wanted not because of his family and connections but because he was himself.

Buck would know how to make him feel better.

He laughs quietly through his tears. Distantly, he can hear Jack briefing his father downstairs, the words faint but he hears his name and tears used together. His laughter is more sob than anything else. Of course, the one good thing he'd found would end up belonging to someone else. Story of his life.

✨️

There's too much work to do. At least that's the excuse Bucky gave himself for not confronting Buck and Curt immediately. There wasn't time for a confrontation and subsequent blowup of his life.

At least that's the lie he tells himself.

Bucky chews on the straw of his iced coffee as he skims yet another chapter. There's a pumpkin muffin in front of him that he swore would be his reward for getting through this fourty page reading. Midterms have come and gone, but Bucky still has deadlines to meet and research to complete. He can't sit in his room forever, as much as his father and Jack would sometimes prefer that. Better protection from whatever sent Bucky crying to his room as his father would argue. Better protection for his father's political career Jack would quip.

Speaking of protection, Bucky glanced to the side of the cafe towards his security detail. At least these guys attempted to blend in. His father must have briefed them on his track record with previous details. Bucky smirked around his straw. They'd be easy to lose come rush hour. A bit of fun even.

Bucky turned back to his reading, squinting down at the words.

"American airmen during World War II had a dismal life expectancy. It was not a matter of if an airman was going to be shot down but when. Once downed, airmen faced an uncertain 'reception committee,' as Second Lieutenant Kenneth C. Reimer noted in a drawing he made as a POW in Stalag Luft I in Barth, Germany... 'for every [ground combat] soldier killed in action, three or four others would be wounded; air combat was completely the opposite. For every man wounded, three were killed.'"

"Bucky?" A hand settles on his shoulder jolting him out of his reading.

Bucky kept his shoulders loose as he turns around. Buck stares down at him, a bright smile on his face that Bucky can't help but match despite his grief. It wasn't even something he could control. Buck smiled at him, so he smiled back. Bucky felt pitiful.

Buck's sky blue eyes are clear and happy as they dart across Bucky's face. There's no sign that he realizes Bucky overheard him yesterday.

Bucky lifts a hand to calm his detail, all alert now after Buck's friendly greeting. He sees the nearest agent settle back into their chair but knows none of them are relaxed. He darts a look up at Buck, peering at the other through his glasses to see if he'd noticed the disturbance.

Buck's gaze, as it always does, doesn't leave Bucky's face. Even when he rounds the table to sit down, his eyes are pinned on Bucky and nothing else.

"Sorry I couldn't meet up yesterday," Buck dumps his bag onto the chair next to him. Bucky's smile twitches. Buck sits down across from him. His legs tangle with Buck's own under the table, Buck's foot gently bumping his ankle.

"It's fine," Bucky chomps down on his straw. "How was your advisor meeting anyway?"

"It was good," Buck smiles at him, not even a hint of guilt on his face. "Real good."

Buck had told Bucky he was called to fill in a shift yesterday and that was why he supposedly hadn't been able to meet up. A lie Buck hadn't even bothered to remember. His advisor meetings were also always in the morning on Thursdays. Today was Tuesday.

Buck was still lying to him, and he wasn't even guilty about it.

✨️

"I went by your place yesterday. You weren't home." Buck swings their clasped hands through the air.

"Hmm?" Bucky glanced away from the traffic around them. His detail were staying a conspicuous ten feet back, but they were annoyingly keen when Buck offered to walk him back to his apartment.

Bucky would lose them another day.

Buck laughed, deep and airy. Bucky struggled not to lose himself in it. That was what made this so hard. Bucky still loved Buck, and Buck still acted like Bucky was his whole world and then some.

"Oh," Bucky finally processed what Buck had said. "No, I went to my dad's for the night."

"Really?" Buck squeezes his hand. Bucky hates how much comfort Buck's touch gives him.

Does Curt receive the same...? No Bucky doesn't let himself finish the thought.

"How was it?" Concern bleeds into Buck's voice. Bucky hates how genuine it sounds. He's starting to use that word more than any other. The longer he looks at Buck, the more he has to hate to save his heart.

"Fine," Bucky shrugged stepping further away as they came to a stoplight. "The usual."

"The Bucky I know wouldn't give such a short answer," Buck stepped closer eating up the space Bucky had put between them. "Not unless something happened yesterday. Come on, you okay?"

Bucky felt the words bubbling up his throat.

I saw you. I saw him. Why are you here staring at me like I'm the most important thing in the world when you have him? Why are you doing this to me? I love you. I love you so much it feels like my soul hurts. I hate you.

"Spent most of the night avoiding his staffers." Bucky lied. "Barely saw him, Jack either, yet he still asked me to move home at breakfast."

Buck nods, accepting his lies. Was that what they were now? Not a relationship, simply a lie? Bucky wasn't sure anymore. His heart thumped against his rib cage, anger and love in every other beat, but he wasn't sure which would win.

Buck had become his whole world in such a short amount of time. He thought the feeling was mutual, but yesterday showed just how stupid Bucky really was.

"How about this," Buck nudged his hip. "Why don't I stay over tonight? We'll binge a few movies, order something, and have night in. Then,"

Buck paused with a stupid grin that, despite himself, Bucky still found charming. Fuck, he was truly pathetic for this.

"I'll sweep you off your feet and take you to bed. How does that sound?"

"Won't Curt be expecting you?" The question pops out of him without meaning to. Gale furrows his brow, confusion growing in his eyes.

"Curt won't miss me tonight."

Sure, he won't, Bucky thinks bitterly.

✨️

"John," Jack's voice was a surprise. Especially considering it was his father's number calling him.

"You've gotten much better at your Jack impression," Bucky answers just to be annoying. "Does he know you impersonate him on official numbers?"

"You're not as funny as you believe."

"Ooh, you even have his disapproving tone down. I feel like he's in the room with us!" Bucky laughs. He peers around the corner. Buck's still where he left him, buried in his phone texting someone.

Bucky doesn't let himself think about who that person is.

"Your father wants to invite you to a dinner tomorrow. You can even bring that boy that walked you home. The one that hasn't left." Pages flip in the background as Jack talks. Probably governmental reports his father was supposed to read.

"You know you're not his chief of staff anymore?" Bucky leaned his hip against the counter. "You don't have to read reports or wrangle his kid to government dinners to help his image as a family man. You're his husband now, you're the family."

"You're my kid too by that logic, so wrangling you gets to stay on my resume." Bucky snorts out a laugh. "Besides, it's not a state dinner or anything. He just wants to see you."

Guilt gnaws at his heart. Buck pokes his head into the kitchen, phone no longer holding all of his attention.

"Fine," Bucky groans. "But if he brings up the apartment again, I'm walking out with my food on my plate even if it's the good plates."

"See you tomorrow at 7 then. Bring your boy." Jack hangs up without a goodbye.

✨️

It'll be me, and it'll be you, Buck.

Don't count on it.

Bucky jerks awake. His dream flashes through his head too fast for him to remember anything. Scenes superimpose over each other, words jumble together. At least this one wasn't a nightmare. Those always left him shakey and off balance all day.

His dreams have always been vivid, ever since he was a kid. The child psychologists he'd gone to had said it was normal and simply a sign of a well developed imagination.

Bucky runs a hand through his hair groaning when he glances towards his bedside clock. It's nearly an hour until he has to get up, but he knows that he won't be getting back to sleep before then.

Buck lays curled up next to him on the bed. Bucky reaches out to brush a hand through the other's hair. Buck twitches leaning into the feeling for half a second but doesn't stir beyond that.

Bucky sighs. Extricating himself from Buck's long limbs takes time. Somehow in the night, Buck had nearly fused them together as if even asleep the man refused to let him go. Arms layered over arms. Legs tangled together. It's an excellent distraction from his dreams but not from the problems of the waking world. If only he could forget those once he woke up like he did his dreams.

It's only when he's pouring water for his coffee that he realizes he recognizes the voice from his dream. A first for him.

It'd been Buck's.

✨️

(Not a confrontation I know, but it builds my AU lol)

[chloecherrysip]

I'm telling you, everything's gonna be all right as long as we're together!

[daveyfvckingjacobs]

those scenes in fellow travelers where hawk (noticeably larger, dominant, top) burrows himself into tims neck or spends a good ten seconds getting himself comfy curled like a cat on his chest?

yeah that’s jack

[paintingskyblutf2]

cbs director's vision wip

[tc-doherty]

Okay I think I really have Stupid Bitch Brain Disease(tm) in the way that like. I post writing in the way that a mother cat takes her kittens for a walk in the woods and then comes home without them

The more people know about any project that I'm working on, the less interested in it I am and the more exposure something I've done has, the less "mine" it is and the less attached I am to my own characters, even ones that I've had for really long time

I don't know if that's like. super compartmentalization or what.

Other people talk about or draw my characters (outside of like getting commissions or stuff from friends or whatever) and I'm just like "oh, the kids are going to college, see you never"

I found this very strange with Second Chances because for so long I was not even willing to let anybody look at it and the story was so personal to me, and now that I've been editing it with an intent to publish and have seen design sketches from the illustrator all of that is almost totally gone

It's still definitely a story that means a lot to me but my attitude towards it now that it has sort of made an entrance into the world is totally different almost overnight.

The relief that I feel with being "done" done with something, like finishing the final draft of Dragon's Choice is really like I'm shutting a door and never looking at it again, it's just not MINE anymore in some way that matters to how my mind categorizes things. Does that happen to anybody else?

[pergaminaa]

I dunno why but in my brain Asterin is always taller than Manon. Manon is like 5’7 (same height as Aelin) but Asterin? She’s probably 5’10 or 5’11 she just has this tall energy. And also I think it’s because of what she represents to Manon? She’s her light, her lifeline, her support. Asterin is someone Manon can lean on and she will never let her down. She’s always there to support her, to guide her, to call her out when she’s fucking up and also— she’s always there to protect her.

Fuck, I’m going to cry now. But yes Asterin is definitely taller than Manon this is all I’m saying here.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Sometimes I feel that Barnaby and Wally have this friendship like big bro/Lil bro, and Howdy being Barnabys bf has to put up with a lot of Wallys shenanigans for Barnaby (doesn't mind cause he also adores Wally I'm a big bro way)

i view them (as a trio) Similarly! though a little to the Left cause i don't view Barnaby & Wally's relationship as big/lil bro. rn to me they're very close friends - borderline queerplatonic! like... Wally is Barnaby's special little guy, yk?

so in my mind, in this trio, Wally's not exactly a. uh. third wheel to Barnaby/Howdy i suppose? oh this is difficult to translate into words - he's part of the relationship without being Part of it if that makes any sense? like of course he's gonna be With them a lot. Barnaby's not gonna be like "ok go do something else so i can make doe eyes at Howdy". that's his Little Buddy. they're gonna Include him as much as possible, i'd imagine. and i doubt Wally would mind being around while they flirt chat. he'd probably love being Barnaby's "wingman"

[hal-o-ween]

Genuinely love taking notes. I'm borrowing some books from my cousin right now and you bet your ass I'm taking notes so that way when I give the books back I still have information to look back on. My DnD notes are so thorough that my cousin who DMs the Innistrad campaign used them to remake portions of his campaign notes after his program deleted some of them for no reason. In PokeDnD we did a bit of a backtrack and when my cousin who DMs that saw me cross out two (admittedly small) pages of notes he was like "we only backtracked by one session? How did you have that much written down about it?" Well it's because this is fun for me. I get to have Information and can even color code things. Sometimes I draw silly yet relevant pictures. I'm like the table scribe.