#smudged red ink

[smudged-red-ink]

Picrew chain

I found this and it's adorable, so--

No pressure tag:

@igotthisaccountunderduress @shadow-of-tea-and-tea @smallgear @halcyon-and-elysian @clever-naming-convention @clavateur @holdmyteaplease @shadows-in-sunlight @juuzou-rei-suzuya-13 @hansenesque @holdingamelody @the-ellia-west @hachi-qo @keysandopenmind @rainsleeper @bargainbincheese

[smudged-red-ink]

I am so hungry, anyone want to make these for me? Pretty please?

[birdsong-warriors]

My nephew requested a Firestar for his birthday today, and this is what I could do with the limited markers and paper I had. He seems happy with it, at least!

[aimless-aimz]

GAZE OF THE DESTROYER

practice with ink nibs. a few mistakes here and there, but i think the messiness gives it its charm!

[smudged-red-ink]

It is, unfortunately, not, but I shall reblog anyway

[the-dye-stained-socialite]

my besties

[rainsleeper]

best life advice, go.

Honestly, not a very good life advice person.. uhm... do the homework as soon as you get it?

[localgardenweed]

Bringing back my silly Hetalia AU again

[smudged-red-ink]

You'd think Dinsey would've learned to listen to Brittney Lee's designs by now. She nailed Frozen, she was on the right track here too.

Man, it killed me when I read Allison Moore's quote. The emotional journey we gave up with human Star would've been so good if they were actually soulmates.

Early visual development for Wish (2023) by Griselda Sastrawinata-Lemay and Brittney Lee.

An earlier version of the film saw Star take on a human form as a magical, glowing character inspired by Peter Pan. Ultimately, the creative team reconceptualized Star as an ethereal, playful entity resembling Mickey Mouse. "Now Star and Asha have an emotional journey. They are soulmates." -Allison Moore.

[amaranthinespirit]

cowboy!simon riley and city girl!reader when your car breaks down on the side of the road in the countryside

you weren't from around here, it was obvious in the way you dressed, and acted. hell, even the car you drove just screamed that you were from the city.

though if that didn't give it away, maybe it was the fact that your tiny little car was now parked—broken down—on the side of the road. a hand on your hip and the other wiping the sweat from your forehead as the blistering sun beat down on you.

you were convinced you were royally fucked—that you would be stuck to a night in your car. there wasn't any service, and there sure as hell wasn't anyone around.

at least that's what you thought until a massive, dirtied truck pulled off the road in front of your car. you swallowed a knot in the back of your throat that only travelled down to your stomach as you watched a tall, intimidating guy step out from the battered vehicle. his boots kicked against the road, scraping the tiny, loose rocks on the asphalt.

a cowboy hat hung low on his head, a fully black bandana tied around his face that covered his nose and lips, leaving only his dark, daunting eyes to sear into yours. his thumb hooked through the denim belt loop of his jeans, his other arm swaying by his side as he walked to the front of your car, which looked pathetically small next to his.

a quick look under the hood told him all he needed to know—with you and the car. he saw the way your eyes seemed to linger on his exposed arms after he had rolled up his sleeves. the dirt smudges along his skin, the dark ink of his tattoo and the veins that strained as he tinkered through the different parts of your car.

he claimed that he could fix it tomorrow—he didn't have the tools with him! he claimed, but really, they were lying in the bed of his truck, but he didn't want to let such a pretty little thing like you go so quickly. he wanted to have a bit of fun first!

so he offered you a nice stay at his little farmhouse, with the promise of warm food and a comfortable bed to sleep on, and who were you to resist? it was either that, or sleep in the backseat of your car—and you knew which one you would've preferred.

"fuck, such a pretty little thing, ain't ya?" he praises with a beer in one hand, the other veined hand wrapped up in your silky hair, helping your body in pulling back into his cock. the couch creaked and rocked under the consistent shifting weight as he pistoned his hips forward.

the rocking of his hips was restrained in order to not spill his beer—otherwise he would've loved to completely wreck you on his meaty cock.

"gon' hafta keep ya around, ain't tha' right?" he grunted before taking a swift sip from the bottle.

when the beer got to the end of the bottle and he set the glass down, you were in trouble. with a swift movement, he had pulled out enough so only the angry tip of his cock teased your hole, slick with your arousal before driving his bulbous dick back into your sensitive pussy.

his hips pounded against your ass, turning your flesh red as the sound of skin slapping together carried through the house. his balls slapping against your glistening pussy with every slamming thrust, the sensation making your eyes roll back. he was determined to make a mess of you—more so than he already did.

his fist clenched harder around your hair as the other went to your shoulder, a bruising grip against your flesh. he growled at the mindless moans spilling from your lips, only making him even more driven to fuck you brainless.

and don't worry, he will.

[allium-phyrzz]

eye of the beholder's eye

[smudged-red-ink]

Yo I just saw princess mononoke for the first time last night and man:

The little white forest creatures with holes in their faces

Lady Eboshi's perfect non-villany.

The way you can viscerally feel Ashitaka's fear as he braces himself for inevitable death after the forest spirit doesn't heal the demon's wound.

The fact that the women of the Iron City are able to be utterly ridiculous but also extremely competent at the same time

Ashitaka's quiet: "Don't make me kill you" when he's trying to get the forest spirit's head back from Jibo

The messages about blind hate and rivalry.

Just ahtrfyguhijokplasdgfgfqdwdefdsbv c

Forget blockbusters, let's go back to the good stuff

[smudged-red-ink]

Okay but there is so much mutual respect in this picture. They look like old friends meeting after one has returned from a long battle.

In my head the white one is older, a seasoned warrior haunted every day by the ghosts of his past battles, even as he continues to do his duty. The younger one, Brown, grew up watching and admiring White's work, but he did not understand White's pain. When he was called to war he seized the chance with enthusiasm and set off in pursuit of glory.

Brown has returned now, but only for a brief visit. His family and friends greated him back open arms and warm meals and familiar jokes, but although he smiled back, their welcome felt empty.

Their jokes were too witless to make him laugh. Their meals were too rich. Their embraces felt like a trap. It isn't their fault; the Brown who left for war would have relished the attention, but he isn't that Brown any more. All he feels now is tired.

But there is no time to rest. He will have to set out again soon. The war is far from over, and he is fresh compared to so many of the warriors. Brown must return, he must fight, so that the people back home can continue to laugh and feast and embrace one another with out fear.

So Brown will go willingly. But ohh, how he dreads it.

He spies White across the field. The older warrior is home for a reprieve as well, his mind bracing for the next round of fighting. Brown sees it in him as clearly as if White said it aloud.

They go to each other. They don't say anything, but press their foreheads together.

I understand now.

It isn't long now before the horn will call them back to the field. And when it does Brown and White will obey. They will go, and they will fight until they can't fight anymore.

It's likely they will never see each other again.

But the horn has not sounded yet. So for one precious moment, they will rest here together.

[ennabear]

gas station!ellie giving you a stick and poke tattoo after she notices you ogling her knuckle tattoos. getting the words “lets fuck” tattooed on her fingers was a spontaneous decision she made when she turned twenty, but she’s oh-so proud of it.

you’re proud of it too, the way they’re usually complimented by the cutest light red indents or copper smudges from the rings she wears to cover them up, especially in front of her boss.

she’s gently holding your arm in her hands, a blue ballpoint pen scribbling pretty constellations that trail from your wrist to your elbow. she slides her hands lower until your fingers intertwine with hers, sketching the letters E and W on your middle and ring fingers.

you giggle, your cheeks heating up. “i wish it was permanent.”

“it could be…” she says.

so now she’s got a needle resting in between her fingers, a half full ink cup next to you on the countertop, and an idiotic grin on her face.

“it might hurt,” she warns. “but i’ll kiss it better when i’m done.”

“ellie, just do it already.” you smile.

she dips the needle into the ink, bringing it up to your knuckles and gently etching her initials into your skin. although it’s not the most comfortable, the pain isn’t too unbearable. or maybe it’s because you have the sweetest, most lovestruck tattoo artist in the world.

once she’s done, she takes a paper towel and douses in rubbing alcohol, gently swiping it over your knuckles.

“sorry, baby.” ellie frowns as you wince at the sting.

you smile down at her, “this is even better than a wedding ring.”

[thinemoonshine]

⋆𐙚₊ 𝓛𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐑=𝓛♡𝓥𝓔𝓡! ˚⊹♡

loser!enhypen hyung line x fem reader content(s): fluff, bashful enha, lovesick loser-ish(?) men, teaser reader, basically just bashful, silly enha boys who are head over heels for reader type: oneshot(s)

synopsis: sweet, nerdy and chronically awkward enha are just trying to confess to their crush, (y/n), but it’s easier said than done when they keep turning into a stuttering, blushing mess—little do they know it might just not be one-sided

⋆˙𐙚 L.HEESEUNG 𐙚˙⋆ “i’ll be your bambi!”

“i li…” heeseung trails off in front of the classroom window and sighs exasperatedly at the sight of his own reflection. if he can’t even say it when looking at his own face, how can he do it looking at hers?

he takes a deep breath before trying again. “(y/n), i’m in lo…“

a huff escapes him before he rests his forehead against the glass, frustrated.

“you’re in what?” a voice chimes and his eyes widen—spinning around with pure panic swirling in his dark orbs behind his thick glasses when he sees the girl standing facing him.

heeseung’s mouth falls open as the words he practiced practically vanish from his mind. only the image of her is processed by his brain—her presence, voice, and that cheeky little grin on her face that makes his turn bright red like a tomato.

“hm?” she hums teasingly and takes forward steps—causing him to retreat against the window behind him further, spine now completely stiff against it. “tell me, bambi.”

‘bambi?’ he echoes mentally as his doe eyes wander on the floor briefly before looking back up at her who’s now dangerously near. “you mean m-me?”

she nods and tilts her head, hair swaying ever so slightly and he gulps at the fragrant scent of her shampoo. she smells nice. he’s always noticed it. her hair’s always neat, clothes always perfect, smile always so pretty and warm, personality ever so sweet and lovely.

she’s perfect. too perfect for him. this is a mistake. who’s he to ever attempt to confess his feelings to her?

“you’re bambi. look at those pretty, doe eyes…no one has eyes as pretty as yours,” she coos and heeseung stiffens—a small shaky breath leaving as his resolve crumbles.

nevermind. he wants her—no, he needs her.

“i like you!” he blurts—face blazing red and even more so his ears—and he blinks profusely while holding a fixed, determined stare with her. “i like you…a-a lot! i’ll be your bambi!”

(y/n) immediately bursts into a fit of giggles and he now looks at her, all confused until she suddenly cups his cheeks and pecks his jutted lips.

BOOM!

heeseung.exe has stopped working.

“you’re so cute, heeseung! and i like you too—heeseung?” (y/n) sounds, puzzled, when heeseung slowly slides against the wall—practically melting into a puddle as the feel of her lips leave a sweet tingle against his.

⋆˙𐙚 P.JONGSEONG 𐙚˙⋆ “i…ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ.”

jay held the small note in his hand as he recited the words scribbled onto them anxiously. he’s been practicing his confession for so long, so intently that the poor parchment’s all crumpled and ink’s all faded and smudged from his sweaty palms.

he pushes his frameless glasses up with his index finger when it slides down the bridge of his nose. overgrown bangs nearly cover his eyes from his lowered head as his small lips mumble incessantly.

“jay? you wanted to meet me?” (y/n) enters the empty school gymnasium with confusion written all over her mien.

“yeS!” his voice squeaks at the end and he’s never wanted to tear out his vocal cords—if ever, even—as badly as he does now. “yes, i mean… yes, i wanted to see you…”

“well, i’m here,” (y/n) says with a single clap that reverberates in the gymnasium to fill in the awkward air—swinging her to clasp her hands behind her back.

jongseong’s throat dries just as the words in his head do. gears for some reason, rusty and refusing to turn as his tongue trembles in his slighting gaping mouth. “i…ˡⁱᵏᵉ ʸᵒᵘ.”

the girl furrows and leans forward. “can you repeat that?”

the fragrant scent of her shampoo disperses and his nose catches a whiff, now more hyperaware of their proximity than ever before. as if being in one vicinity as her so privately hasn’t fogged up his brain enough. “like you! i like you…a lot!”

his shaky, pitchy exclamation brings a smile to her face, pleasantly surprised as airy chuckles emit.

the other however, misinterprets her as ridiculing him and his sweaty hands stuffed into the pockets of his trousers squeeze and clench. of course, how could he expect anything?

the fact that she even accepted his request to meet is a privilege itself, a miracle. how could he even expect for anything more? how could he even dare to wish to have a place beside her?

she’s all he’s ever wanted and dreamed of. and him? she probably doesn’t even know who he is.

his shoulders slump and heads hangs low, eyes bore holes onto his shoes as he tightens his jaw in shame—further defining its already sharp nature.

“baby. jongie…”

the abrupt nickname however, successfully snaps his head back up as his eyes widen twice their size from surprise. did he hear her right?

“jongie…?” he repeats. his name’s jongseong. does (y/n) know that? she knows who he is?? really??

“yes, you. jongie~” she croons and jay swears he’s never heard anything better. she sounds like an angel—or a siren, seeing as how he’s completely mesmerized and weak in the knees.

“you know me?” he chokes out—meaning for it to be a statement of realization and yet his voice betrays him.

the girl once again, titters, and dispels the distance between them thus, effectively dominating his every senses to focus on her, her and only her. “how can i not recognize my own crush?”

his breaths hitch, body completely frozen. “wh-what?”

“i’ve liked you for years, jongseong,” she chuckles and somehow manages to wrap him around her finger more and more when she leans forward to press a kiss on his lips.

oh, it’s a dream come true.

⋆˙𐙚 S.JAEYUN 𐙚˙⋆ “…so so much—that i-i can’t think.”

a string of muttered curses and grunts flow out of jake’s mouth when his books spill out of his locker and scatter onto the floor. he crouches and picks them up half-heartedly, already in a bad mood after running away from (y/n) when they made eye contact—like a dang coward.

and just this morning he was planning to profess his deep-rooted affections for her. having already practiced his lines in front of the mirror and yet, the moment their eyes met, he had his tail tucked between his legs as he ran faster than the speed of light.

and the fact that he’s now alone in class after hours, wallowing in self-pity after organising his notes, makes him feel even more pathetic than ever.

he stands with his books all tucked in his arms before he haphazardly stuffs them into his locker, too strained mentally to even bother with tidying them up. just as he’s about to swing it close though, a hand latches onto the door and keeps it open.

he turns his face to the owner only to quickly snap it away, eyes widened and adam’s apple bobbing in his throat nervously. his heartbeat is going over average rapidly as his hand that’s still holding onto his locker’s door begins to shake.

“you should always keep them neat, jake. the pages might get folded if you don’t and they might come crashing down when you least expect it,” (y/n) advices as she starts arranging his books for him.

he faces her once more, a frantic look now worn and he steps forward just to retreat in fear of getting too close. “w-wait! you don’t…have to do that.”

(y/n) only glances at the timid young man, watching him chew his lip anxiously as his free hand fiddles with the seams of his trousers. “i like keeping things tidy.”

jake blinks repeatedly under his long, overgrown bangs that practically curtain up half of his face and thick-framed glasses. the fact that he can even see itself is a mystery.

“there. all done,” (y/n) sighs out contentedly and he stares in awe at the neat arrangement she’s made of his locker and he makes a mental note to take a picture—wanting to put his books in the exact way she does whenever he has to take them out.

his staring gives her plenty of time to watch him—her scrutinizing gaze traveling from his black sneakers with clumsily tied knots up to his neatly ironed uniform, slightly loosened tie and finally to his face. she frowns at the inability to read his expressions with his hair covering most of his face and without realising, her fingers ghost over his cheek that quickly grows rosy when he notices her ministrations.

seeing as jake doesn’t pull away, she brings her hand higher to gently trace the black frames of his glasses before gently sneaking her hand below his bangs—pushing it up without notice and losing breath at the sight that greets her.

jake’s doe eyes are already fixed on hers, lips parted slightly as he breathes and brows knitted and raised with both excitement and anxiousness from being so close to her. and with her touching him?? oh, he’s done for. just a few hours ago he was fleeing from their fleeting eye contact and now he’s trembling from her tender touch. he’s going to lose it.

"you're...pretty," (y/n) softly breathes out, awed, as twinkling eyes study his sharp yet, delicate features with admiration. "you're beautiful, jake."

the praises that leave her glossy lips leave him breathless and he stumbles backwards while his hand brushes his bangs back down in a fluster. he retreats, once again attempting an escape but the table and chair behind him are against him—sending him crashing down onto his arse and he yelps.

his face is now beet red up to his ears as he hides behind his large hands—the shame effectively overpowering the throbbing pain in his butt.

“jake! what’s wrong? did i…did i do something wrong?”

against her expectations, jake vigorously shakes his head—glasses slipping down the tall bridge of his nose—with a frantic and pitchy "no! n-never!" before he curls into himself again.

"then, why do you always run away from me?"

jake gulps thickly as he presses his palms against his eyes at the burning heat of them—wanting to cry from shame and escape but that’s only going to make things worse.

there’s only one way to solve this.

“because…because i like you—so so much—that i-i can’t think. everything, you, just, you—!” he stops and lets out a little sound of embarrassment. “i’m sorry…i’m a loser and a coward so just—just forget this ever happened.”

there’s a moment of silence before the other responds.

“nahhh, don’t wanna. do you know how long i’ve been waiting for this??”

jake slowly removes his hands from his eyes and blinks rapidly. “huh? what…”

(y/n) giggles. “why do you think i came back to class after school hours? i had a feeling you were here and wanted to see you so i…could confess. but you beat me to it.”

“WHAT?” jake blurts, fully shocked as his hand flies to his mouth—eyes as wide as saucers and his shaking pupils search her face for any sign on mockery. she’s not lying, is she?

understanding his doubts, (y/n) smiles, cunningly sweet almost, then she leans forward and pushes his glasses up his nose with her index finger before closing the gap between them—lips to lips.

that one single gesture dispels every single doubt in jaeyun’s head as his eyes flutter close and brain turns to mush, overjoyed and nearly shaking with adrenaline as she deepens the kiss—pushing him flat against the tiles to which he gasps at.

⋆˙𐙚 P.SUNGHOON 𐙚˙⋆ “blop blop blop.”

sunghoon isn’t an outcast, but neither is he popular despite being well-known. his introversion acts like a barrier between him and others.

when people reach out, they’ve already curated some sort of ‘image’ of him just because of the way he looks, so when he acts differently than how they expected—more shy, quiet and distant—they naturally drift away. he’s become a wallflower.

it confuses him. was it his fault for not being able to blend in well?

he frowns at this but quickly hangs his head down and lets his intentionally overgrown bangs to curtain his eyes when he notices people looking at him.

the hallways are always a pain to walk through.

CREAK!

the sudden slap of fresh air makes his lips pull to a smile as he lets the rooftop door close behind him. as cliché as it sounds, he loves spending his time within the tranquility and solitude of the rooftop—and today is no exception.

but there is one slight deviation to his daily routine: an unexpected presence at his private, safe haven. he quickly twists, ready to leave but pauses when he sees the girl turn.

and suddenly, his resolve to escape the place is rapidly bombarded by the selfish desire to stay.

it’s (l/n) (y/n), the girl a few classes away from him, the one who always has cute little trinkets on—whether in her hair, bag, shirt or even everywhere—the one who always passes by his homeroom and never misses to cast him a smile, the one whom he so unexpectedly, inexplicably fell for.

he isn’t sure when it started. all he knows is that, his eyes always seem to find her even in crowded rooms, even when he’s overwhelmed by a lot of unwanted attention and somehow, she acts as a balm to his silent frustration.

his eyes always create some sort of tunnel vision towards her as ears muffle to try and focus on the shapes of her lips, to read what she’s saying, before quickly whipping his head away upon noticing the creepiness of his behaviour.

…

……

who is he kidding? he’s a loser freak. he doesn’t belong with her.

with clenched fists and head hung down, he swivels to the door behind him, fixed on leaving—until, the call of his name magically glues his feet to the floor.

“sunghoon…that’s you, right?” (y/n) apprehensively asks as she comes closer and hoon nods with a soundless gulp. she smiles and the poor lad nearly jumps when he sees her so close, face practically next to his arm when she bends forward slightly to peek up at him. “i was hoping you’d be here. i don’t see you at the cafeteria much during lunch.”

sunghoon perks at that—face lifting and curtained eyes widening as he looks at her. ‘she noticed? how?’

a silence surrounds them and (y/n) blinks once before clearing her throat. “um…! the teacher asked me to pass something to you. i think she might’ve mistook me for your classmate… here.”

the other accepts the worksheet before wincing and cringing internally at the many red streaks littered at almost every question. great. now he’s making a bigger fool out of himself in front of her by showing how dumb he is.

how unlucky can one be?

his fingers tighten on the sheet, wanting to crumple it when he notices another layer behind. he furrows and pulls it out, seeing (y/n)’s worksheet with a vastly different score than his—many circled reds litter at most, if not all the questions.

hoon’s brows raise, awed at her intelligence when it suddenly gets taken away from his hold.

(y/n) stands, red-faced and flustered as she rolls her work up to hide it. “i—uh, i forgot that i was holding mine too. i wasn’t trying to…show off…or anything just—sorry. i should go.”

mumbling criticism under her breath towards herself, she passes by sunghoon—overlooking how he’s quick to twist his whole body to look at her, unwilling to let her go.

panic begins to rise as his fingers twitch, wanting to reach out. but how can he? he’s no one in her world. what right does he have to take up her time?

just when her hand latches on the doorknob, he parts his lips—chewed bottom lip red and glossy from his previous abuse. “(y-y/n)!”

she stops and slowly turns.

seeing her face again nearly knocks the gears out of his head, enamored. “u-um, can you tutor me?”

“what?” (y/n) sounds, confused and genuinely surprised that the shy, closed-off hoon is actually initiating future appointments—if that’s even the way to call it. “you want me to tutor you?”

sunghoon nods meekly, hands fiddling with his now tattered worksheet in between. he sheepishly glances up at her. “you…can’t?”

“oh, no! i mean, i can but, why me?” (y/n) asks before mentally slapping herself. that’s a dumb question. he saw her acing the worksheet so obviously he knows she’s good at the subject. but before she can correct herself, the other speaks.

“because i like you…” he answers quietly, almost indiscernible but from her gaping mouth and slightly widened eyes, it’s obvious she heard. so he quickly clears her throat. “i-i like you because you’re smart! yeah…”

the way he frantically tries to play it off is so darn adorable and it’s clear from the way his whole head down to his neck seem to be a completely different colour—flushed red.

his confession emboldened (y/n) however, and she steps forward to which he steps back to, almost stumbling, and she bends before tilting her head up to him—trying to look at his face as he hangs his head low.

“you like me?” she asks and hoon nods rapidly. “just because i’m smart?”

hearing her next question, he freezes. eyes blinking unnaturally quick and apple bobbing up and down his throat before he slowly shakes his head.

“not ju-just because of that…” he mumbles and she grins—holding his hand in hers to which he just melts at, now goo on the floor.

“we’ll start our first session today, hm?”

“blop blop blop,” the goo says.