#softer on ipad

[isbergillustration]

[himbeaux-on-ice]

country roads, take me home... to the place, where i belong...

[soni-dragon]

I really love your artsyle its so visually interesting, what brushes and platform do you use to work with?

Ahh ty so much!! <333 I use procreate, and here’s some of my favorite brushes (hereby showing how indecisive i am but hey there’s a lot of good ones)

These first ones are what I (mostly) use for line art, under the inking tab:

Then the rest; I use oberon, dry ink, and 6B pencil the most of all of these I think. Lately moorilla has been my favorite for coloring tho.

[hyumjim]

I recently was surprise gifted some nice graphite pencils by @hanarchy 🥹💕 thank you!!! It’s my first time ever drawing with them, I’ve only used mechanical pencils before so this was really different and fun, and I think I like it better💕my ability to draw catboys is going waaaaay up!!

[tkomptgoedluv]

icantbelieveiletyougetaway.

joost klein x f! reader

tags: dead dove do not eat, f! reader, non-famous! reader, reader really needs to see a therapist, established friendship, they’re so in love with each other it hurts but can’t admit it, joost just wants to be her everything, angst, hurt, comfort, all characters are dutch and speak in dutch but dialogue is written in english for obvious reasons.

word count: 4,156.

warnings: very brief allusion to drugging, heavy and frequent references to SA, violence, vague mentions of non-specific mental illness, rpf.

notes: in my head this takes place in 2021-2022 when joost had that really short, almost buzzcut like hair? like the wachtmuziek era. also, very sorry this is late!! it’s still only been half-proofread and i’m not even sure i like how i wrote the ending but here she is anyway. i love her and i hope you do too 💋.

── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ──

with shaking hands, you fumbled around the bathroom floor to find your phone. your chest was heaving, the cries that you struggled to keep quiet were getting all caught up in your throat as you fought meekly through the nausea. you wiped at your face again, desperate to clear your vision and leaving behind a mixture of tears, snot, and smeared mascara on the back of your hand.

the room itself was dark, barely lit up by a singular dim, yellow light, though despite the shadows you could still see how everything was spinning. you couldn’t remember how many drinks you’d had — it hadn’t felt like a lot, you weren’t a lightweight by any means but you didn’t know how else to explain the state you were in. you couldn’t stand up even if you wanted to, your legs strangely numb to the touch and the pounding in your head made staying on the floor all the more appealing anyway.

face down on the grimey, tiled floor you found your phone laying just underneath the sink. you ignored the low battery warning as you swiped through your contacts, squinting through your tears at the screen as if it would actually help you see any better. you were only looking out for one name; the third out of the four that were listed under the letter ‘J’, and the only name to have an emoji next to it.

over the sound of the heavy, techno bass that seemed to shake the walls and the buzz of a hundred different people all talking amongst each other, you heard the line start to dial. it didn’t make sense to call him out of everyone else that could possibly help you; he was infamously known for never picking up the phone. it was ironic for someone so notoriously attached to their screens, his face typically glued to either his phone or his ipad.

but still, you hadn’t so much as thought twice about it as you clicked on his contact and then the call button. With your head tilted back against the wall and your knees curled up tightly against your chest, you prayed to any god listening that by some miracle, he wouldn’t be busy.

“hallo?”

you let out a whimper at the mere sound of his voice, a small, pathetic noise that quickly turned into a cry that you didn’t bother to stifle. he called out your name for a second time, though now in a tone that was much softer than the one before it.

“i’m sorry, i know it’s late.” you paused to take a breath, your voice having cracked like glass as you spoke. “but i need your help. i don’t…joost, i don’t know what to do.”

“it’s okay, just take a big breath for me.” for just a moment you heard shuffling around on the other end of the line. with each of his footsteps the background noise grew quieter until it disappeared completely, following the sound of a door being shut. “where are you?”

“i’m at…i’m at this house but i uh, i really don’t wanna be here anymore. do you think you could…can you just come get me, please? i’m sorry.”

over the sound of a drum and bass beat that played so obnoxiously loud, you struggled to catch all the whispers from joost’s side of the phone call. there was another voice there, that much you could hear, and you struggled to place it despite how familiar it sounded. you tried to concentrate on the faint muttering, straining your ears to hear it over the song that blared just below you.

but then you jumped when the banging started. a sudden flurry of fists pounding against the wood and making the bathroom door rattle within its hinges. from the deep laughs that followed, chances were it was just a group of guys trying to be funny, probably thinking it was one of their friends getting lucky on the other side. and yet still, you found yourself gasping for breath as you choked back fresh tears, all the blood that ran through your veins turning cold.

“schatje? did you hear me?”

you could only hum back in response.

“i said i need you to send me your location, okay? and then i’ll come get you, i promise.”

it was the moment you figured out how to do so that your phone finally gave up on you. after hitting send, the little map displaying your whereabouts popping up in yours and joost’s text chain, your screen began to freeze. in a moment of panic you managed to choke out that you were locked away in a bathroom before it all went black, leaving you to stare at the taunting dead battery symbol.

you weren’t oblivious to the irony of it all. in a house crammed full of people, perhaps even a few too many than it was built to hold, you felt alone. just a few minutes ago that was all you wanted, to be by yourself, but now it left you with a ringing in your ears. the absence of joost’s voice was enough to throw you inside what felt like a black hole, where time seemed to slow the longer you waited for him.

you found a brief comfort in watching the time pass on the old, analog clock that hung high on the wall opposite you; you figured it was a better thing to focus on besides the sharp ache between your legs. it helped keep you distracted from the way everything just hurt now, whatever it was that was in your system already starting to wear off. without it numbing you to the pain of it all, you could feel the headache brewing behind your eyes and the sting of your split lip.

with each minute that dragged by, the slow, high-pitched tick of the clock echoing inside your ears, your mind began to slip further and further away. every time that you closed your eyes you could see it happening all over again; you could feel his hands back on you, ripping at your clothes and bruising your skin.

all the tears that you had only just managed to blink away came rushing back, continuing to decorate your face with more long, dark streaks of black. surely, this was going to be the thing to finally break you. there would never be any redemption or recovery for you — he’d get to live the rest of his life without burden whilst this was bound to be the death of you.

the more you unravelled, the more erratic your cries grew with hiccups racking your body and a deep burning in your eyes. for once you found yourself grateful for the music’s mind-numbing volume, though somehow it still wasn’t enough to mask the sound of a soft tapping against the bathroom door. like a coward you froze, failing to answer back before you heard your own name being yelled out to you, followed by a harsher knock.

“hey it’s me, it’s joost. can you open the door please?”

as you steadily climbed to your feet, using the edge of the sink to help push you up, your knees began to shake. they threatened to buckle out from under you with every step that you took, each limp towards the door sending a short stabbing pain up to your abdomen. the sensation made you wince, your jaw clenched and a grip on the door handle so strong that it turned your knuckles white.

it was almost sardonic how despite being in a house so loud, everything went quiet as soon as that door swung open. the music never stopped nor did anyone dare to change its volume, but all joost could hear was his own heartbeat thumping in his ears as his eyes met yours. all he could do was swallow, pushing down the bile that was quickly rising up his throat.

even in the low, warm light of the bathroom, he could see the streaked mascara that painted your face and the bloodied lip that was still trickling down your chin. your favourite shirt, the one that he himself had bought you, was torn and just about hanging off your shoulders. it exposed a trail of black and blue spots that started along your shoulder and went all the way down your arms, a couple even dotted down your legs.

joost uttered your name, his voice barely audible over the music downstairs. the corners of your frown twitched, your bottom lip quivering as you shook your head, already answering the question he hadn’t even asked yet. from where you stood he could see you shaking, your knees weak and barely holding you up right. he didn’t hesitate to pull you into him, an arm locking around your waist as his hand found the back of your head, keeping you hidden in his chest.

“jesus christ, what happened to you?”

you couldn’t speak, couldn’t find the right words to even try and explain what it was you had gone through. you could only weep into the fabric of joost’s jacket, so exhausted and overwhelmed that you didn’t have the strength to hold yourself together in front of him. but it was more than enough of an answer for joost who just held you tighter the harder you cried, fighting back tears of his own.

pulling away as gently as he could, joost still kept you in his grasp. his hands cupped either side of your jaw, calloused thumbs wiping away stray-fallen tears as his eyes danced over your face. with a gaze so intense, you could see his eyes growing sadder the longer he looked you over in the dull light of the bathroom.

“i left stunts outside — he’s still in the car. we could…we should go to the hospital.”

“no!” your own dramatic change in tone caught even you off guard. you couldn’t help it, you were panicking now, pulling joost back by his sleeve as he tried to guide you out of the bathroom. the action made you wobble and almost trip over your own feet, flinching at the sudden cramp you felt deep in your stomach. joost’s grip on you hardened, not nearly enough to hurt but enough to keep you from falling back and hitting your head on the sink. “not tonight. please, i just wanna go home. i’ll be fine.”

“you can barely fucking stand, schatje. you need help.”

“then i promise i’ll go in the morning! but right now i just really need you to take me home, okay? i’m begging you.”

perhaps if joost had a little bit more of a backbone and wasn’t so hopelessly head over fucking heels for you, he would’ve had the courage to say no. he would have been able to look you in the eye and still say that he was going to get you to a doctor, whether you wanted to go or not. but no matter how much he wanted to, how much he hated what you were asking of him, he couldn’t. feeling you trembling in his hands and hearing the fear that shook your voice meant there was longer a single thing that joost wouldn’t do for you.

you were his best friend just as much as he was yours, regardless of all the very non-platonic things the two of you had done together over the years. as far as you were concerned it was just something that you’d do sometimes, only ever as friends. there were never any conversations about it the next morning, never any acknowledgment for what it was you had done the night before; it was almost like it never happened until it would undoubtedly happen again. you always liked it like that though — as long as it meant that you never had to think about how you really felt.

joost, on the other hand, was painfully aware of what he felt about your situation, about you. it was never just sex for him, not even once, and he wanted to talk about it. and he tried to, a couple of times, spending the first few mornings after trying to coax you back into bed just so he could hold you skin-to-skin for a little while longer. but you never wanted to stay and you never wanted to talk about it, either, so joost stopped. he let it become another pain he had to live with and spent each day telling himself that he was okay with that.

it was with only a slight hesitation that he nodded before standing back up straight, slipping his big black jacket off his arms and draping the material gently over your shoulders.

you let joost take on most of your weight as you leaned into his side, letting him guide you back through the house as you focused on just trying to make it down the stairs without tripping. to say that the place was packed was an understatement. people were crammed into every room like sardines, dancing and grinding against each other with stiff, swinging jaws. you hadn’t even heard what it was that had been said over the music, its volume still just as loud and disorienting as it had been when you first arrived.

but joost had heard every word, somehow, despite the sound of his own song polluting the room. it made him freeze on the spot, pulling you to a stop right along with him as he slowly turned to face the group of guys that were standing just in front of the front door. you felt your throat start to close at the sight of him amongst them, standing front and centre with a sick grin plastered across his face, his eyes darting between you and joost.

“what did you just say?”

it might have been the gruff, nauseating voice that you recognised, or maybe it was those ring-heavy hands of his that you could still feel pressed into your skin. you didn’t know, and it didn’t matter, because you knew it was him.

“i said good luck with that one, dude. she doesn’t go down easy; kept trying to fight me the whole time.” his stare then fell from joost onto you, his tongue gliding over his bottom lip as he looked you up and down. “but we still had our fun though, didn’t we schat?”

the crack of joost’s knuckles colliding with his jaw was something you heard before you saw it; the thud of him hitting the ground following soon after. a chorus of screams and cheers rang painfully in your ears as you watched a small circle quickly form around you. anyone that could still see straight had either ran from the fight or pushed forward to get a better view of it, their phones held high and already recording.

“bet that made you feel like a man, huh? forcing yourself on a girl half your size. you piece of fucking shit, i should fucking kill you!”

in all the years you’d known him, you had never seen joost like that before; his voice low and angry as his shouts drowned out the music. he hadn’t waited for him to get back up before throwing another punch, the sharp crunch of his noise breaking making you wince and your eyes water.

you went to step forward, your hands already reaching out to grab joost’s arm when one of his friends pounced. a shriek was ripped out from you when a fist struck joost right across the cheek, knocking him into you hard enough to almost send you both tumbling to the floor. any chance for you to try and intervene again vanished when you were pushed back before you could get close enough, joost quickly shoving you behind him as he swung for the other guy.

a strong pair of arms wrapped your middle and pulled you further back as you cried for them all to stop, keeping you locked against their chest no matter how hard you thrashed. distance was put between you and the fight when you were picked up and half-dragged out the door, joost’s blond hair disappearing from sight amongst the growing crowd around him.

the bitter air of the early morning stole your breath, your chest tight and aching as the cold consumed you. small flakes of snow drifted down from the paleing sky, dusting each rooftop and the old, cracked pavements in a thin layer of white. still, there were a handful of people gathered on the house’s front stairs, clad in various leather and latex, that only stood and watched as you were hauled away from the party.

“get the fuck off me! we’ve gotta go back, we can’t just leave him! stuntje, please!”

your feet only met the floor again once you were next to stunt’s car, safely across the street. even from there, you could hear the childish chanting of ‘fight! fight! fight!’ and the occasional glass break from inside.

“martijn -”

“- stay here; i’m gonna go get him.”

you weren’t allowed to argue, so you just did what you were told. for four minutes you sat waiting in the back of the car with the heaters on full blast and still shivering as you nestled yourself deeper into joost’s jacket. after another minute you saw them heading back your way, their pace fast as they slipped past the last few people that loitered on the steps. in the glow of the streetlights you could just about make out the soft shade of purple that was joost’s eye, and the deep scowl that contorted stuntje’s face.

neither of them spoke as they joined you in the car but for joost, you never really gave him the chance to. his seatbelt hadn’t even clicked into place yet before you were turning away from him, desperate to pretend that he wasn’t there burning holes into the side of your head. if joost knew that you could see him staring from the corner of your eye, he didn’t care. if anything, he probably would’ve hoped that it might have made you look back at him, because then that at least would’ve been something.

but seeing joost storm out of that house with a violet eye and raw knuckles, having just risked everything for you without a second thought, it scared you more than you wanted to admit. he was only supposed to come find you, and bring you back home. you never wanted a fight, never wanted joost to wind up with a black eye over you. so no, you couldn’t look at him — couldn’t even talk to him, either.

except your silent treatment didn't last very long, did it? it couldn’t, because joost wasn’t going to let you get away with it this time. for as long as he had known you, you always had this habit of internalising what you felt and shutting down. it never mattered what it was you were going through, you just wouldn’t talk about it.

this time though, he wasn’t going to let you disappear in on yourself again, and he wasn’t going to let you shut him out, either.

as soon as the car came to a stop, joost was up and already outside your car door. with a sweet smile, gentle hands were pulling you up and slowly helping you onto your feet before you had the chance to protest. there was a part of you that wanted to, now too proud to admit that you still needed his help. already, he had done more than enough, even too much, for you.

still, you didn’t dare to fight it — or him, rather. besides a small goodbye to stuntje, no words were spoken as he slipped an arm under your knees and pulled you up to his chest. it was like that, that he carried you up the three flights of stairs of your building, glancing down at you every so often with soft, worried eyes. it was miraculous how he managed to open your front door with you still in his arms, his very own key to your home dangling from the clip on his jeans.

it wasn’t long before the soft leather of your sofa was dipping underneath your weight, its cushion beneath you feeling cold against the bruised flesh of your thigh. joost left you for only a second, just to switch on a couple of the lamps you had dotted around and to dig out your old first aid kit from the bathroom.

you still weren’t really looking at him, not even as he perched on the edge of your coffee table and carefully took your jaw in his hold. the brush of the alcohol wipes along the small cuts that marked your face stung and made you wince, your nose scrunching up at the pain. a string of quiet apologies followed as joost concentrated on cleaning you up, wiping away each and every smear of blood and smudged makeup.

the longer that you sat there whilst joost devoted all of his time and energy to you, the more teary-eyed you felt yourself becoming again. it felt almost…foreign to feel so loved after everything, like you were still somehow worth saving. there was no way that you could possibly deserve it — nothing you could’ve done to deserve having someone adore you so unconditionally without earning it.

and yet here he was, your joost, doing anything and everything to try and help, and you couldn’t even fucking look at him.

the only thing you could do was cry. the way you clutched your mouth did little to muffle the sounds of your distress and it drew back his attention after he turned away only to throw out all of the dirty, used wipes. it was the guilt that was doing this to you, the guilt of knowing that you were the reason why joost now had a black eye. that joost had risked his whole career by starting that fight, and you had been the one to punish him for it.

a warm hand squeezed your knee as another tucked fallen strands of hair behind your ear. it took a few tries of quietly calling out your name to finally get you to meet his eyes, but eventually you got there. nothing could have prepared you for just how sick he looked, the bags under his eyes seeming considerably darker than before and a deep frown tugging at the corners of his lips.

“i’m sorry i did this. i never should’ve gone with him, i know i shouldn’t have because i know that i know better but i still went and i should’ve done something more, i could’ve hit him harder or yelled, and i’m sorry i called you because your eye, that was me, that was my fault and i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i -”

with your face pressed flat against his chest, his sudden embrace almost swallowing you whole, you couldn’t find the rest of your slurred, blubbering words. somehow, at some point, joost manoeuvred you both onto the sofa and with his arms around you, kept you curled up against his side. a few fingers moved up the back of your neck to scratch your scalp as others held onto your hip.

it was the only thing he could think to do to shut you up, to calm you down enough to take big, slow breaths, in and out.

he didn’t have it in him to let you finish that sentence.

delicate reassurances were mumbled into your hair, quiet ‘you’re okay’’s and faint ‘it wasn’t your fault’’s becoming mantras that helped soothe the pain in your chest. you wanted to believe him and knew that you didn’t. you knew that as the deep baritone of his whispers slowly lulled you to sleep, you’d wake up with that pain still very much there.

but joost wasn’t going to stop trying anytime soon, noor was he going anywhere. it was one of the few things you’d actually let him do for you, making himself a home on your sofa whenever you would have one of your episodes. he’d sleep there, eat there, work there. sometimes joost would spend entire weeks of his life in your living room just so that he could know for sure you were still alive and breathing.

he was the only thing offering you the slightest bit of comfort. you could feel his fingers running through your hair as you curled up even further into his side, his voice still low in your ear. it was becoming to struggle just to keep your eyes open, but you knew that he wouldn’t mind.

you could fall asleep just to wake up with that same ache in your heart still there, but joost would still be there too. for now, that was all you needed.

[inkdrinkerworld]

Couls iequest a Soft dom! dealer! Remus x Autistic! Reader wher Rem has a set of rules for r to keep her safe but she always forgets them and one of the big ones is no getting high when he's not there to look after her, but when they are at a party rem goes off with a customer and leaves a brownie behind and R eats the brownie because she's hungry but by the time rem gets back shes really high because the brownie was really strong and if she had waited for rem to get back he would have only let her have half of it because she can end up having a meltdown from overestimulation much quicker when she gets too high.

I read like every dealer! Remus fic you've written and I just have to say I'm OBSESSED Like ridiculously obsessed

“Sit pretty dovey. I’ll be back soon.” Remus kisses your forehead and is off.

You’re at another party, Remus has a lot of customers at these things.

You sit with your legs crossed under you, iPad on your lap as you play a game waiting on Remus.

It’s not that you’re trying to be rude to whoever’s party this is. You just get bored of it, there’s only so much drinking and dancing you can do before it gets boring.

Plus, Remus has rules in place. They help you stave off overstimulation and shutdowns so you try not to stray from the rules.

He’s left a brownie beside you, wrapped in the pretty yellow bags he lets you choose every time he needs new ones.

Remus had promised you an edible, this seems like yours; decorated with hardened melted chocolate on the top of it to give it a nice crunch when you bite into it.

Your mouth waters a bit. Then you remember the biggest rule you have- ‘No getting high when he’s not around.’

It’s a good rule, one that keeps you from getting too overwhelmed. From being pressured into having too much. You love this rule. Remus loves this rule- he gets to help you turn off your brain for a little in a safe way.

You don’t forgo the rule on purpose.

You just intended to have a little piece, just a nibble. It’s like you blink and suddenly the brownie is finished and your head is foggy.

Your mouth feels stuffed up with cotton, your eyes low and burning as you sit on the sofa.

You can feel every stitch of your top rubbing against your skin, the waistband of your shorts suddenly cutting into you in a way that’s too much.

You swear you can feel the blood rushing through your body and it’s too much.

You don’t remember where you are, the party blurring and blending into just another thing that’s overstimulating you.

Remus comes just as you begin to panic. “Hey,” he tips your chin up, frowning when he notices the dilation of your pupils.

“I had the brownie.” You say swiftly, shame burning your chest when Remus tuts. “M’sorry.”

“Dovey,” he says softly, reprimanding but not much. Not when you’re like this. “This one was stronger. You were only supposed to have half.”

You bite your lip, tears filling your eyes.

“Hey, you’re not in trouble.” Remus isn’t cruel. “Let’s just work on the comedown.”

You let Remus guide you outside to his car. “Here,” he opens the door and passes you your tumbler of water. Remus watches you take a couple slow sips, then he reaches in the backseat for a sweater. “Something softer, dove.”

He doesn’t want to be tugging you out of your t-shirt in the open like this, but you might start picking at your skin and he doesn’t want that more.

In the sweater, you relax a little. Your eyes aren’t as wild now, Remus taps your tumbler when you stop sipping.

“Three more.” You take three slow sips, Remus leans against the car watching you arms crossed over his chest.

“How do you feel now?”

You sigh, “Better. I’m sorry.” Your fingers twitch against your cup.

Remus nods, opening his arms and you shuffle right into them. “C’mere, my love.”

His hands hold onto your hip and the back of your head.

“If you weren’t so high I’d spank you.” Remus chuckles when you stiffen up. “No more rule breaking.”

“I won’t Remmy,” you whine, Remus pulls back a smile playing on his lips.

“I know you won’t, dove.” He tips your chin up, lips ghosting over yours. “Ready to go back or leave?”

You hum, pressing your lips together. “Do you have anything else to sell?”

Remus shakes his head, “No, I’m all yours, sweet girl.”

You smile, more than a little shy as you say, “Can we go back in and have a cuddle for a little bit? I’m tired.”

Remus laughs, shaking his head as he presses his lips to your jaw. “Yeah baby, lead the way.” The way he says it makes your stomach trip, even more so now that you’re high. He pats at your ass when you walk off to the door, revelling in the shriek that leaves you.

[the-witch-of-one-piece]

🌸Tokyo Revengers Father and Daughter Moments🌸 Ft: Taiju, Hakkai, Ran, Rindou, Draken, Kakucho, Hanma, Mikey, Mitsuya, Nahoya Masterlist / Resident: @enchantedforest-network / WC:2.6kSynposis: Random moments of TR dads with their sweet little ones. Different scenes for each one of them! this is pure fluffy goodness! (unedited) Click below!

Taiju

Slightly exhausted, his sleep was interrupted once again. It only lasted 10 minutes when his wife put the baby down after feeding. Walking into the lowly dimmed nursery he saw his newborn daughter in her crib upset. Carefully picking up the fragile newborn, in his arms, cradling them close to his chest. “There there now…” he spoke in a low tone. He made his way into the nursery  sofa. The man who once had a short fuse in his younger days is now a father of this little one. He wouldn’t admit it but he was scared of holding his child for the first time when they were born. Doubts in his mind he wouldn’t be a good enough dad but that moment when he held his child those father instincts began to kick in. He wanted to protect them with every inch of his living soul.  

The newborn was calming down little by little hearing the steady heart beat of her father. Taiju closed his eyes for a brief moment, resting his head back slightly. He took a deep breath “I know you're fighting your sleep.. It’s okay.” The newborn seemed to calm down more as he spoke. Opening his eyes looking down at the newborn against his chest. His child knew his voice, not that he would often speak to his pregnant wife's belly but his wife was around him a lot during his pregnancy and accompanied him during the opening of his restaurants. “My voice is the only thing that seems to calm you down… usually it's the opposite for others..” he smirked. Taiju repositioned himself on the couch as laid his head down against the pillow as  the baby was still against his chest. He looked down at the newborn, his thumb gently caressing the delicate cheeks. 

Hakkai

He was on his ipad in his dressing room he had about a half an hour before the show began. He promised his daughter he would facetime her before the show. He had sent her a gift and was eager to see her open it. On the other side of the screen his daughter  was opening the gift he sent to her. Leaning against the counter “I hope you like it.” Hakkai smiled

Opening the pretty rose gold box with a gold ribbon around it her eyes lit up “It’s a bunny!!” She exclaimed, holding the white fluffy stuffed  bunny in her hands then giving it a big squeeze. “Thank you daddy!” Seeing his daughter's raw reaction to the gift made his day. “Your welcome sweetie. I’m glad you like it.” 

She nodded “When are you coming home?” she asked and looked at her dad. He gave a softer smile. “Soon baby. I know daddy has been away for a while now. But soon I will be home with you and mommy.” With his  career it did interrupt his family life. He did manage to still be active in his daughters and wife's life, face timing, photos and every now and then they would join him on his trips. Still he didn’t want his daughter around the cameras and the paparazzi since she was still so young he still wanted some type of privacy in his personal life. 

Looking at the time as it seemed to fly by “I’m sorry baby but daddy has to get going. I will call you when I’m done.” A soft pout on his little one's face “okay daddy, you promise?” “Of course, daddy loves you.” “I love you too daddy”

Ran

“9…10… ready or not here I come.” Ran called out opening his eyes as he found himself observing the living room. Walking around the living room searching for his child who was hiding from him. “I’m gonna find you.” he called out. 

He couldn’t hear a giggle nor a movement. They learned from the last time they played not to respond to their fathers comments. Ran began walking down the hallway carefully listening to see if he heard any sort of movement. Ran began to check obvious places they would hide that he knew about under the beds, in the closet, even behind the curtains but nothing.

He was rather impressed that he wasn't able to find them yet. He began to question where they could be hiding. He began to search for her in more and more places he thought she would be weren’t there. Few more minutes passed and no luck.  “Oi my  little one I give up. You can come out now.” he called out.

He waited to hear for some type of movement giving some type of idea what their hiding place was and what it could be. He didn’t hear a response, he was now assuming she wanted their father to look for her. He began walking through the rooms again checking them thoroughly. 

He noticed one thing in particular, the laundry room was slightly cracked and opening the door he noticed a large basket that had a blanket he knew he put in the dryer now it was in the basket. Coming closer he noticed a bit of movement. Gently pushing the blanket down he saw his daughter in a deep slumber. The blanket was still slightly warm, Ran carefully picking her up in the blanket still. In a groggy voice as they let out a yawn “daddy you found me.” 

“I did.” letting a low chuckle out.

Rindou

Rindou squinted his eyes seeing his daughter who was in pre-k holding hands with a little boy in her class. Every dads worst nightmare when they become a father of a little princess. Holding hands with a boy. As his little princess saw her father she let go of her friend's hands and waved to him as she darted towards her father. Crouching down as he greeted his baby. Embracing him with a tight hug. After a bit of small talk Rindou placed her in the car as he began to drive home. “So who was that boy you were holding hands with?” the father questions were coming out now

“Oh he is my boyfriend!” 

Luckily he was at a stop sign and he looked at his daughter who was in the back seat. “Come again? Boyfriend?” The words boyfriend ached his poor soul. 

Hearing a car honking for him to go, his eyes went back to the road. “Yeah daddy. He is a boy and he is my friend.” Taking a calming breath he was relieved by the comment. “I see… you don’t like any boys yet right?” 

“No, they are just my friends.” she chuckled

‘Good’ he thought to himself. “You would tell daddy if you did right?” 

“Mmmmm” she thought about it for a moment before responding “No.” “What??? Why not?” “Because I don’t want you to scare them away.” 

“I wouldn’t do that to them…”  he was lying to himself of course he would. 

Draken 

“Are we doing this right now?” Still on the edge of the bed seeing the covers pulled up little fingers holding the blankets up. 

“Mhmm” with a small cough.

Letting a small sigh out as he  placed the small cup of medicine down on the nightstand. “You know you need to take it.”

“It’s gross….” Lowering the blankets down to see the red cheeks of his kiddo. 

“I know it is, But the quicker you take this the quicker you will feel better.” 

The tiny child sat up in her bed seeing Draken reach for the small cup of medicine handing it to them. She looked at the cup of medicine scrunching their nose before taking the medicine. 

“See, it isn't that bad.” rubbing her head.

As she laid back on the scooting the covers up more. “I’m sorry you had to miss work today…”  

Giving a small smile, “It's fine I wanted to make sure you were going to be okay. Your my top priority everything else is second” A small smile on her lip appeared. “Get some rest, I will check on you in a little bit, okay?”

Throughout the day Draken checked on her. Checking her forehead to see how the temperature was going down each time he checked on them. He was relieved each time going in, still as a parent he did worry about his little one getting sick. They weren’t their happy go lucky self he is so used to seeing. As she were still asleep he checked on the one more time his hand lightly touching her forehead the fever seemed to be gone. He leaned down pressing his lips on their forehead.

Kakucho 

A storm was passing through Tokyo. The sounds of thunder and lightning echoed in the quiet room. Walking up front her she could hear the rain and whistling from the wind. She looked around and her night light was on. The sudden lightning and thunder once again prompt the little one to rush to her fathers room. Opening the large door she crept to the side where her father was sleeping. She nudged her dad gently and whispering “daddy” 

Kakucho, feeling the small push, opened his eyes to see his daughter in front of him. “Baby why are you out of bed?” speaking in a groggy tone

“The loud noises outside.” She looked towards the window and then at her father.

“Do you wanna sleep with me and mommy?” He asked.

Nodding at her dad's question he scooted on the bed as she climbed in. “You don’t have to worry about anything sweetheart, daddy is here to protect you.” 

Another  struck from thunder and lightning his daughter snuggled into him more. Kakuchou’s arms holding his little girl making sure she felt protected. “I got cha.” He spoke in a soothing voice stroking his daughter's hair. He wasn’t going to sleep until he knew his little girl was okay. Kakucho watched as his daughter was becoming more tired. The sound of the rain was all they both could hear.

Hanma 

“Can I name him?” his daughter spoke as she held the tiny small black kitten. The walk from the convenience store just for snacks ended up being snacks and small kitten they found on their way back. 

“I was thinking Cujo, he looks dangerous.” He looked at the kitten who didn’t want to come to him, only his daughter.

“No! He is not a rabid dog! He is so cute!” she laughed, petting the kitten in her arms. “Figaro! 

He looked at the kitten who seemed to resemble the kitten from the movie she watched. With his free hand he scratched behind the kitten ears making the kitten let a little meow out. “Ferocious Figaro.”

“Do you think mommy will be okay with us keeping a kitty?” asking as they were approaching the home.

“We will see we were only supposed to get snacks. We came back with the snacks, kitten and food for the little terrorizer. I mean Figaro.” he was getting his keys out of his pocket. “Don’t worry mommy will be fine with the kitty, let me sweet talk her.” “Yeah! Tell her she is pretty and she is the best mommy!”

‘Among other things to convince her,’ he thought to himself. “That will work.” flashing a smile at his daughter as he opens the door. “Hey babe we’re back, we got the snacks and a kitten~!”

Mikey

“How do they make it look so easy there?” Mikey looked at the screen and the ingredients as he thought he measured correctly. He looked at the cookies they were supposed to be nice and pretty just like one the video he was watching. Instead he got flat cookies that resemble crepes. 

His daughter looked around the countertop that was messy and behind the mixing bowl and she saw another cup of flour. “Daddy, we forgot the other cup of flour.”

He turned his head towards his daughter, seeing the other measuring cup of flour as she was bringing it close from behind the mixing bowl. “That could have been the reason the batter was a bit runny…” Mikey scratches the back of his head. 

“It’s okay daddy, we tried our best.” giving her father a chipper smile.

Mikey looked down smiling at the child who had flour covered on her. “Let's try again and make sure we add that cup of flour.”

“Okay!” 

After the final attempt both of them were looking through the glass window of the stove seeing the cookies rise. “We did it princess.” “I bet they are going to taste yummy daddy! I want that one.” pointing to one of the corner cookies. “Next time we can make taiyaki daddy!”

Feeling a bit more confident in his baking skill “Why not right now?” Mikey couldn’t pass up making his own Taiyaki. He wanted to enjoy every moment of his vacation with his little one as much as possible before he returned to racing. 

Mitsuya

From the moment his daughter was born they had a strong bond. Mitsuya doted over his daughter any chance he got. Getting home he had a routine the moment his daughter's eyes landed on him he automatically picked her up. Today he had his hands full of items. Opening the door he saw the pretty bright wide lavender eyes of his daughter looking at his directions. The coo’s and excitement was all on her face as she sat on her mothers lap. “My little jellybean.” he smiled “Let daddy put this up really quick.” leaning down kissing the top of her forehead. 

Mitsuya shuffled to his office, placing the fabrics and sketch pads down. The moment his daughter lost sight of her father. Her eyes began to tear up wondering why he didn't pick her like he usually does. He could hear his daughter crying from the other room. Walking back to the living room he saw the little stream of tears from his daughter's cheeks. His daughter reached for her daddy as he picked her up. “I’m right here.” he slightly chuckled, “Jellybean daddy is right here.” 

Moments as she was in her father's arms the tears stopped and a smile peered on her cheek. He did get a kick out of it, how just picking her up in a matter of seconds made a difference. Confirming he was the favorite parent of his daughter. He wiped her eyes then placed a kiss on her temple. “This is a definite confirmation that I'm her favorite human.” flashing a smile as he looked at his wife who playfully rolled her eyes.

Nahoya

“Is it yummy?” Nahoya rested his elbows on the table as he watched his daughter eat her ramen. 

“Mmhmm!!” she was slurping the noodles. 

Few things he loved doing was watching his daughter eat. The expressions she would make as she ate made the food look 100 times better than someone else eating it. The way she did a little dance in her chair as she continued to eat. This was a sign the food was extra good.  Nahoya’s daughter was also his biggest critique too if something was missing she would point it out.

“Papa did you want some?” she asked, looking at her dad as she grasped more noodles with her chopsticks.  

“I’m okay. You eat.” he slightly chuckled 

She held the chopsticks closer to her father “papa have some please!” At that point he couldn’t say no anymore, leaning in as he ate the noodles from the chopstick. “It’s yummy!” 

Swallowing the noodles “It is. Now here is the biggest questions: whose Ramen is better, mine or Uncle Angry’s?” 

Angry was listening to the conversation he was behind his brother. He made eye contact with his niece. To slightly tease his brother a bit he lifted a bag a gummy bears up and pointed to himself. 

“Ummmm sorry daddy it’s Uncle Angry.” 

“What?!” He stood up from his chair. Angry, placing the gummy bears in his pocket. Smiley was now determined to challenge his brother to a Ramen battle.

 In a split second Angry walked to his niece, of course he loved his brother but him and his niece were pretty tight. Handing her the bag of gummy bears. “Atta girl.” 

Interested in joining the taglist please fill out the form below to get a notification of your favorite characters when they are being posted! Link here ->taglist Tagging: @the-haitani-baton, @satanlovesusall666, @galactict3a, @ratlovecat, @niko-ash, @iluv-ace, @captainmycaptainn, @strawberrychrome, @missgab, @anxious-chick, @spookiisopium, @bontensbabygirl, @txna04, @stygianoir, @kira-rrh, @intheafterall, @staygoldsquatchling02, @nightqueensk, @alexanderlightwoodii, , @sintyu, @missgab, @elmakimaki , @hana-patata, @ancient-vivarium @livefromnc , @mdibby @chronic-claire-universe @cxrxx @drakensdarling, @stephisokay, @lunatical, @q-the-rockaholic, @istanstraykids, @opchara, @twistedw0nd3rland3acc, @galliardsmaniac, @villsophie, @carixes , @kodzukein , @trevengersprincess, @wakasasbae , @wakashudou , @burpzz, @alexanderlightwoodii @opchara , @cloudsinthecosmos , @sushijimaaa , @haitani-maki , @wakashudou , @burpzz , @mztoman @heijihattori , @zzelan @toe , @leivane , @kenpachisbrat , @kr0wu , @donquixotehomura , @mizugami @ackerbaby , @levixsiren @bakugosgirl01

[eff4freddie]

Things You Knew

Javi Gutierrez x Reader Rating: M Words: 8k AN: This is my submission for @burntheedges roll-a-trope challenge and @auteurdelabre trope-off. Apologies for doubling up on challenges but it's been a pretty insane month at work. Anyway. I chose Javi G as I've never written for him before, and my trope was Soulmates. This was really fun to write and I hope you enjoy! Warnings: None

Your ankles crinkled in their sockets when you stretched them, and you didn’t want to think about what it meant, so you didn’t. You rolled your shoulders, feeling the way the tendons strained under the weight of keeping your head up. It wasn’t even that working for Javi was that hard – he was a kind boss, generous with his time and respectful of yours – it was just that his relentless quest had started to take its toll on all your other tasks. Tasks that were mounting up without his attention.

‘Mr Gutierrez…’ you started, your arms full of binders and your iPad balanced precariously on top, ‘you have a meeting with the executive producers this afternoon…’

‘Cancel it, and it is Javi, please. You know this, Cariño.’

He was good looking enough that you didn’t mind the pet name, or that he’d bestowed it upon you the moment he saw you on your first day in the job, seven and a half months ago. Now, though, it grated on you as he strode past you standing patiently at his office door.

‘They’ve said that if you don’t show up this time the deal is off, Mr Gutierrez,’ you tried again, following behind him as he made his way down the hall to the front door. Your heels clacked on the marble in a way that announced your arrival well before you had any intention of making it, and you hated that you were unable to move silently through his house.

‘They can say whatever they want to. They do not understand I’m on a quest,’ he said, talking to you over his shoulder as his longer legs carried him. You sighed, the sorrowful little sound of it stopping him in his tracks. You took a step back as he rounded on you.

‘Como, Cariño?’ he asked, his brows saddled in concern. ‘Do you work too late? Do you carry too many things? Look at all these…’ he tutted at you as he took the binders from your arms, all labelled neatly in your script; the names of his various projects, ledgers, budgets, a contract he still hadn’t read let alone signed. ‘Who makes you carry these, hmm?’ he said, grinning at you slightly as you secured your face in a disapproving glare.

‘My boss,’ you said, but fighting a grin.

‘What a monster he must be,’ Javi said, winking at you. You felt the heat crawling up your cheeks, and hated yourself for it. You had noticed long ago that his voice, when it was just the two of you, was softer, quieter, that he almost whispered to you such that sometimes you found yourself leaning closer into his orbit just to pick up the words. You felt the fizzle up your spine and ignored it, every time, his cologne and his shampoo and just his skin enough to send a riot of butterflies into your throat and suffocate you.

‘Enough of this, it does not matter to me,’ he said, dismissing your months of work.

‘Mr Gutierrez, when you find her, you’ll need…don’t you think you’ll…’ you tried to think of a reason. He didn’t need the money, you knew that. He didn’t need the social status, he had that in spades thanks to his wealth and his association with Nicholas Cage. He had everything a man could want except for the thing that kept him up at night, and when he found it…

‘Don’t you think Nic will want to know what happened to your next movie?’ you tried your Hail Mary, invoking the name of Jesus himself. Javi paused. Your arms now empty you tugged nervously on your sleeve.

‘I will find her,’ he said, determined, and you nodded at him. ‘But when I do, you are right, I will need to juggle all my other responsibilities…Oh, Cariño will you help me, still? You will not leave me to rot?’

‘You won’t rot,’ you said, rolling your eyes at him. ‘You’ll be too happy with her.’

He grinned, his dimples popping out. Sometimes you wondered what it would be like to take them between your teeth, but you resisted, you always resisted.

‘I will be, Cariño, won’t I?’ he said, but he wasn’t asking for an answer, and you could see the way his eyes had drifted away from yours that he was imagining her again, conjuring her in his mind as if he could transport her in front of him just by sheer will.

‘Yes, Prince Charming,’ you said, and he smiled at you, again.

‘If only I had a glass slipper to try on these women,’ he said.

‘You have better,’ you said, nodding to his wrist. Absent minded, he ran his fingers over the mark, the pattern you had seen enough times to know by heart.

He looked at you, sadly, then, his eyes coming back to yours. He knew it was a privilege to have been marked, that not everyone was born with their destiny etched on their wrists.

‘Is this hurting you?’ he asked, and you swallowed, collecting yourself for a moment.

‘You’re not the first I’ve witnessed find their match,’ you said, the words bitter on the back of your throat. ‘I’m happy that you will be happy, Mr Gutierrez. And that you apparently won’t fire me the moment you find her.’

‘I would never,’ he said, jostling the binders in his arms so that he could extend a hand to your shoulder. You felt the warmth seep into your skin through the loose cotton of your shirt. He wore a look of consolation on his face, and somehow that burned more than anything else.

A moment passed between the two of you, Javi’s thumb caressing your skin without his fully realising. You could see again his eyes were unfocussed, could see the spread of goosebumps up his forearm. You pushed him away, taking a step back and out of his grasp.

‘I do hope it’s soon, though,’ you said, plastering a smile on your face. ‘Not sure I can hold off the execs much longer.’

‘Tell them a family emergency came up,’ Javi said, ‘tell them I am sorry, but I must attend to my loved ones.’

‘Mr Gutierrez, we said that last time,’ you reminded him. He dropped your binders, one by one, on the hall table by the door. Through the glass you could see his driver idling his sports car. You held in a sigh. Taking a pen from his front pocket he at least signed the contract, sight unseen.

‘Tell them again…it is not untrue,’ he said. ‘When I find her, she will be family.’

Before you could try and get him to see sense he was gone, the door opened and closed for him as he strode over the threshold. You forced yourself to look away, to turn your shoulder and stare instead at the binders beside you. You could never look when he left you.

--

You had meant to go home, you really had, but you found yourself unaccountably engrossed in Javi’s bookkeeping and before you knew it the sun was setting over the ocean. Your phone rang, the vibrations jolting you out of your work.

‘-lo?’ you said, without checking, and when you heard a scoff you knew it was your roommate, Karla.

‘Girl, what are you doing?’ she asked, and you sighed.

‘I got…stuck with work.’

‘I’ve been texting. This time you didn’t even leave me on read.’

You had put your phone on Do Not Disturb the moment Javi had cleared the driveway. If he found Her, finally, you didn’t want to know about it.

‘Oh, I…needed to concentrate,’ you said. You realised your eyes were stinging and you blinked them a few times. How long had you been bent over your laptop? Too long, judging by the squawk of protest from your shoulders when you moved.

‘You’re breaking your back for this guy again?’ Karla asked. She knew, or at least she suspected with the benefit of very good evidence, that you didn’t work so hard for Javi because you cared about his next big movie production. Balancing the books for a multi-billion-dollar company wasn’t your job, either. But you knew that Javi had been taken advantage of before, by his own family no less, and you just liked to keep an eye on things to make sure he could trust his accountants.

‘I have a business degree, I gotta use it somehow,’ you said, and you heard Karla laugh. ‘What did you want, anyway?’

‘I was calling to see if you wanted to go out tonight, but I’m pretty sure I know the answer.’

‘Mmm,’ you agreed. You felt your stomach protest, remembering that you had forgotten to eat lunch. Javi had a way of making your tummy flip that made it difficult to want to add food to the equation.

‘He’s out again, on the hunt?’ Karla asked, gently, because she could read your mind even through the phone and that was why you loved her.

‘Mmm,’ you said, again, this time trying to sound blasé.

‘And you’re not waiting around for him to come home to see if he’s hit the jackpot?’

‘Mmm-mmm,’ you said, shaking your head for the benefit of absolutely no one.

‘Course not,’ Karla replied. ‘Will you at least go eat something?’

‘How did you…’

‘Could hear your stomach grumbling from here,’ she cut you off, and you grinned. You paused, feeling the smile slide off your face.

‘Do you think he’s ever going to stop looking?’ you asked, and you heard how wistful you sounded, how sad, your voice failing to cover for you.

‘Honestly?’ Karla said, and you held your breath, waiting for her to answer. ‘No, that man is determined and he gets what he wants.'

‘He put the ad in the paper,’ you said, ‘and he went on Late Night and showed his mark on TV.’

‘And how many fakers did that bring out of the woodwork? The cheap tattoos? That one lady who Sharpied hers on and didn’t think he’d try wiping it?’

You scoffed at that. She had lasted all of three minutes, and it was three minutes too long in your opinion. His security teams had received a talking to after that.

‘I don’t like seeing him… like this,’ you said, and you meant distracted and not able to attend important meetings, making you grovel for reschedules. Of course that’s what you meant. ‘He was so disheartened when all that publicity didn’t work.’

‘Kind of makes me grateful I don’t have one, to be honest,’ Karla said. You made your way to Javi’s kitchen, untouched by anyone except for his chef, and scrounged around for something with which to make yourself a sandwich. ‘I think he’ll do all this dating, and he won’t find Her, but he’ll find a girl nice enough, or gorgeous enough, and he’ll make do.’

‘Some stunning influencer.’

‘6 foot tall, waist tiny enough to wrap one hand around,’ Karla agreed.

‘Rich lady hair. Tits up to her chin,’ you added, after a thought.

‘She’ll have a PhD in neuroscience, and something in Law’ Karla giggled, ‘and she’ll volunteer for the UNHCR.’

‘And she won’t know how beautiful she is, she just will be.’

‘She’ll pop out twins and be…wait are we just describing Amal Clooney?’

‘We…we might be,’ you conceded.

‘I met her once, she was lovely.’

‘Of course she fucking was,’ you said, an ache blooming at your temples you were worried would turn into a full-on migraine. Karla was right. That was absolutely the kind of woman Javi would end up with, should end up with, if there was any justice in the universe. You knew this. Of course you knew this.

‘I’m gonna go meet my Not The One But Good Enough,’ Karla decided.

‘Put the sock on the doorknob,’ you reminded her, and she remained on the line long enough to scoff at you before she was gone. She was your best friend.

You turned back to the cupboards, considering your options. The kitchen was well stocked, but it was an ingredient kitchen. You just wanted a box of mac and cheese, not to have to roll the pasta yourself. You sighed.

‘That was dramatic,’ you heard a voice behind you, and you swivelled fast enough to make yourself dizzy.

‘Mr Gutierrez!’ you said, his voice honeyed but his eyes sad in the light from above the stove. ‘You’re back early.’

You watched as he sighed, plonking himself down at the table. Behind him a storm threatened to blow in over the ocean. You felt your stomach sink for him.

‘She was not the One,’ he said, and you nodded.

‘Not even the Not the One But Good Enough?’ you asked, and he shook his head.

You knew Javi. Despite Karla’s predictions, you knew he was uncompromising in getting what he wanted, that he had enough money in the world to engineer any career, any dream for himself but this one thing, this one missing piece, that was nevertheless evading him. He wasn’t the type to settle, even if it would make him reasonably happy. You knew this, too.

‘I do not know how to describe it, just that I knew she was not Her.’

You stayed by the cupboard, not wanting to interrupt his reverie, not sure if you should intrude. It almost seemed as though he forgot you were there, until he snapped his eyes to you. ‘What are you doing hiding in the kitchen?’

‘I didn’t have dinner…’ you said, and he slapped his forehead.

‘I forgot!’ he exclaimed, standing and running out of the room. You followed, because it seemed urgent, and because of course you did. You watched as he ran to the garage, disappearing into the darkness before you heard a car door slam.

‘Sorry, Cariño, I was just so upset about the girl, but it should still be warm. I will heat it for you.’

‘Mr Gutierrez, no, I can…’ you said, not wanting to remind him of the last time he tried to heat up leftovers, including his Great Grandmother’s silver serving spoon.

‘I know, Cariño, no silverware,’ he tutted at you, and you once again found yourself tagging along behind him.

‘Now you know,’ you said under your breath, and you heard him giggle.

So caught up in chasing him down, as per usual, you didn’t even look at what was in his hands until he produced a plate and served it. You had been expecting a half-eaten chocolate cake, maybe some bread and an unwanted appetiser, but what greeted you was an intricate dish, seafood and delicate squares of polenta, a garnish of radish and dill. You looked, as subtly as possible, for any bite marks and found none.

‘The chef recommended it as his favourite,’ he explained, his eyebrows saddling as he watched your reaction. ‘You eat fish, yes?’

You nodded, dumbly. ‘How did you know that I would…’

‘You’re always working late, Cariño. You think I do not notice but I do.’

You felt heat in your chest, your belly flipping again. This time, though, the smell of the food wafting gently over your nostrils was enough to overcome it. You were embarrassed to find your mouth watering.

‘Thank you, Mr Gutierrez,’ you said, warmth in your eyes as you looked at him. He smiled, pleased.

‘She did not like the food at all,’ he said, rolling his eyes as he put the plate down in front of you and went to find forks. ‘She did not like to eat.’

‘Well, she’s crazy,’ you said, too impatient to wait for the cutlery and instead diving in with your hands, picking up a polenta square and popping it into your mouth. An explosion of flavour danced across your tongue and you moaned, your eyes closing of their own volition. When you opened them again you saw Javi gazing at you, pink blooming across his cheeks.

‘It is not cold?’ he asked you, his voice oddly strained.

‘No, it’s good, do you want some?’ you asked, reaching down and holding a square out for him. He came forward, tentative, as you placed the food gently on his tongue. You felt an ember of something lighting between your thighs as he savoured it, groaning slightly.

‘Oh, it is heaven,’ he said, still with his eyes closed. You thought for a deranged moment of slipping from your chair and getting down onto your knees for him, wondering if you could make him make him groan like that with his cock in your mouth. You blinked, swallowing harshly. His eyes opened, gently, to gaze down at you.

‘I regret so much about tonight, and now I must also regret that I did not choose this for my own,’ he said, and you smiled at him. He reached for more and you batted his hand away.

‘Mine,’ you growled at him, and he grinned.

‘My hungry little Cariño,’ he said, and the little ember started to catch flame.

He sat beside you, his hand resting on the back of your chair, as you tucked in. So engrossed in the food you didn’t notice he had lapsed into silence until your plate was almost entirely cleared. When you finally remembered he was in the room you took him in.

He was quiet, his chin resting in his other hand as he considered the darkening sky over the ocean. You could see he was deep in thought, a kind of maudlin contemplativeness he was prone to sink into when things didn’t go his way. You wanted to pull him into your arms and wrap your fingers in his curls, soothe whatever troubled him with your lips on his skin.

‘What else do you regret about tonight?’ you asked, bold for someone who was technically talking to her boss. You pulled him from his reverie, but the room remained heavy with the weight of his sadness.

‘Have I gone about this all wrong?’ he asked. You wanted to reach out and smooth the indent where his brows crashed together, wipe the hopelessness off his face once and for all.

‘I don’t know how else you could have gone about it,’ you said, honestly. ‘You’ve gone about it basically every way there is.’

‘The talk show, that was not such a good idea.’

‘It seemed OK at the time, you just forgot people are generally terrible.’

‘A Sharpie, of all things. And it was black.’

You snorted a little. ‘I mean, no marks for execution but you gotta respect the hustle?’

Javi lapsed back into consternation for a while, and you let him. Being with him set your nerves ablaze but also, paradoxically, calmed you in a way that no-one else did. He was your boss, and he was annoying and this quest of his was ruining your standing with quite a few important contacts, but he was also kind, and he was loving, and you imagined that if you were to rest your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat it would sound like home.

‘She just feels…I do not know how to say it. She just feels…like she’s right there. But I can not grasp her.’

You wanted to reach out and put your hand on his forearm, rub it with your thumb as you cooed into his ear. You needed to get yourself together. You were tired and he was wearing down your resistance by being so sad and so fucking gorgeous at the same time. You cleared your throat.

‘I should head home, it’s late,’ you said, and he nodded.

‘Cariño…’ he suddenly started, grabbing your arm as you went to move away. You pulled it from him, the heat of his touch even through your sleeves scorching. He sat beneath you as you stood over him at the table, his expression changing from sadness to hope to something else, something not quite settled comfortably on his features. ‘You can come in late, if you like. Since you worked late tonight.’

You couldn’t have said how. Maybe just that the look on his face, his hesitation, just by the way he had paused as he gazed up at you, but you just knew he had been going to say something else, had been thinking something else entirely. You wouldn’t ever be able to articulate it. You just knew this, too.

--

You shouldn’t have been surprised. This was what you wanted, after all. So, you could only smile, a little tightly, when Javi bounded into his office one afternoon, uncharacteristically late, and beamed down at you sitting at your desk.

‘You found her,’ you said, ignoring the stone shifting in your belly.

‘No,’ he said, his face suddenly serious, a look of almost remorse crossing his fucking beautiful features. ‘But she is just as good.’

You nodded at him. Fucking Karla had willed this into existence.

‘So, your quest is over?’ you asked, but he was already bouncing on his heels, looking at you with bright eyes and his dimples so sharp he could poke himself. You recalibrated. ‘Tell me the story,’ you said.

‘Oh, Cariño it was like nothing I had expected but somehow it was better.’ He was looking over your head, as if watching the movie of this perfect moment playing back behind his eyes.

‘We do not have the same marks. Hers is different, it is close but a little off on the left side? Anyway, I was at the bar talking to Marco, you remember Marco he financed my last project? So, I was talking to Marco about locations for filming in the Spring, and suddenly there is a tap on my shoulder and a woman…a vision of a woman…tells me if we need a vineyard she has one on the south coast!’

‘She…has a vineyard,’ you repeated, an image of Amal Clooney in a sundress holding a bottle of wine while giving you the finger appearing in your mind.

‘Well, it is her fathers, but I can not exactly complain about that,’ Javi said.

Ah. There it is.

‘And where did she get her law degree?’ you asked, not able to stamp out all the bitterness in your tone before the words escaped your mouth.

‘Eh?’ he asked, and you waved him away.

‘No, nothing, it’s…that’s great. When do I get to meet her?’

‘Cariño, you want to meet her?’ he asked, and he seemed genuinely surprised this, and because of that it was difficult for you to quantify the hurt it caused.

You’d forgotten, you supposed. All the late-night chats, the bringing you dinner, the times you had stood beside him while he worked his way through half of Europe trying to find his one, then most of Hollywood to boot, you thought that there had been a friendship there, something more than a boss and an overworked, underpaid employee. Of course there wasn’t. He was a billionaire and looked like a model and talked with passion about almost everything he encountered. You were…you. You knew this.

‘Well, I need to vet her, Mr Gutierrez,’ you recovered, quickly. ‘Have you done the necessary background checks?’

‘Oh, I do not need those, this is love,’ he said, and you tasted sour over the back of your throat. Your mouth was turning down all on its own, the muscles of your jaw twanging under the strain. You were horrified to realise you were going to cry in front of him if you didn’t get out of there.

‘Mr Gutierrez, I strongly urge you to do the background checks,’ you said, your voice reedy, but he wasn’t listening. You wondered if he ever would again.  

‘We are to holiday in St Tropez,’ he announced. ‘I have just decided. Will you organise the helicopter?’

This time, you didn’t follow him as he strode out the door. You worried, instead, that you had condemned him, and by extension yourself, to a life of disappointment. It had to be this way, you were sure of it, and maybe you were worrying over nothing. Maybe this vineyard-inheriting goddess could make him happy, in the end.

Almost unconsciously you lifted your sleeve, your fingers tracing idly over your mark. You knew Javi’s so well. It mirrored your own.

--

‘He’s going to fucking marry her,’ you predicted, genuine misery in your chest nearly as heavy as the four pints of ice-cream you’d put in your belly. The Ben and Jerry’s had been Karla’s idea, and only now were you slightly regretting it.

‘Oh, fuck her, and fuck him too,’ Karla said, waving melting Triple Caramel Chunk in the air. ‘She’s probably got a stick so far up her arse she can’t bend over without getting a splinter.’

You snickered at this, the cruelty of it appealing to your whispering dark corners.

‘Daddy’s got a vineyarrrrrd,’ you intoned, affecting a truly awful sort-of-British accent.

‘DADDY! GET ME MORE VIIIIIIINES!’ Karla yelled, and now you were laughing so hard you were in real danger of asphyxiation.

‘DADDY! I’M TIRED OF THIS MANSION BUY ME ANOTHER ONE!’ you joined in, through hiccups of laughter and an errant burp.

You both paused for a moment, catching your breath. In the quiet the sadness seeped back in.

‘I still don’t understand why you don’t show him,’ Karla said, after a while. You sighed.

‘It’s not meant to be,’ you repeated for the hundredth time.

‘How can it not meant to be? You’re marked.’

‘Because he’s just…his life is completely different. I don’t fit into it, in any capacity.’

‘You do in one capacity,’ Karla said, nodding her head to your wrist.

‘He would be disappointed,’ you said, eventually, and Karla sighed.

‘You said when you saw him it was like lightning bolts?’ she asked, and you nodded. ‘You don’t think he felt that, too?’

‘I know he didn’t, because he didn’t react at all. It was like he didn’t see me. He just…employed me.’

‘But that doesn’t mean…’

‘Karla, I love you, but you need to listen to me on this one. There were no turtle doves, no petals falling from the sky. He saw me and he shook my hand, and he said, “welcome to my staff, it is lovely to have you�� and then he was gone. The whole soulmates thing, they don’t mention that crushing, ridiculous privilege will override it. He didn’t feel anything for me because there was too much money and status in the way.’

You were dangerously close to tears again, the helplessness and the grief washing back over your bones. To your relief Karla just nodded at you, extending a cold hand to rest on your knee. You immediately shucked her off. ‘Ice-cream hands,’ you muttered, and she smiled.

‘I just…I just feel like, shouldn’t he have the choice? To decide for himself?’ she asked, and you shrugged.

‘It’s better this way. He’s found Little Miss Vineyard. He says it’s…he thinks it’s good enough, clearly. That’s good for him.’

‘What about you, bub?’ Karla asked, and you were going to protest, going to tell her that it didn’t matter, that you were happy he was happy, that maybe the one act of love you could do for your soulmate was to just stay out of his way, but for some reason that night the words died on your tongue. You swallowed down their corpses, feeling them curdle alongside ice-cream in your belly.

‘I’ll be OK,’ you said, and you knew the more times you said it, the more likely you would, one day, believe.

--

Javi and Vineyard were gone for the next ten days, which was enough time for you to harden your heart again and get back down to business. You decided, in the spirit of change and new beginnings, to finally bust out the black Amex card Javi insisted you keep in your drawer ‘for emergencies’ and renovated his office, deciding the mid-century brothel vibe didn’t suit a seaside setting. You were going to do modern coastal, you decided, using company time to browse furniture websites and considering the merit of rattan in a professional setting. You were going to do coastal, and you were going to do a fresh start and you were going to do healing. One decorative seashell at a time.

What you didn’t anticipate, though, so insistent on a new office kit out and by extension a new personality, was that everything would arrive flat-packed. The groundsmen faked bad backs, and the security team were pretty adamant their jobs didn’t extend to Allen keys, and so you found yourself down on your knees, sweat sticking your hair to your forehead, trying to beg the lug nut to sit flush on the dowel, whatever the fuck that was. It was this moment, of course, because the Universe was clearly punishing you for an egregious wrong doing in a past life that Javi, of fucking course, wafted back in.

‘Cariño?’ he said, uncertainly, to the lower half of your body.

‘Mmph,’ you responded, a screw held tight between your lips. ‘-ust a sc-nd Mr Git-er-ez,’ you muttered.

‘What are you doing? Where are my things?’ he asked, and you felt your shoulders drop. You took the screw from your mouth, deciding that four equal table legs that all touched the ground was so last year, and got up on your knees.

‘I wanted to surprise you,’ you said, and you looked around at the detritus of your efforts; the bubble wrap, the ripped-open boxes, the two successfully constructed armchairs that took you the better part of the morning to assemble. ‘I thought, a fresh new look for your new love,’ you lied, and watched as his eyebrows shot up.

‘This was all my father’s,’ he said, gesturing to where the old furniture was stacked up against the back wall. You swallowed. You probably should have known that.

‘I…’ you started to apologise, but he cut you off.

‘It was never my style. But I never knew what my style was until…this…’ he said. ‘This is perfect, Cariño. How did you know?’

Your mark tingled and you pulled your sleeve down tight over your wrist.

‘I thought about what I would like and did the opposite,’ you lied again, and he laughed, clapping his hands in delight.

‘My brilliant Cariño,’ he said, and it would have been kinder if he’d just shot you on the spot. You felt the burn and ache in your chest. You wondered what cute little pet names he called Vineyard. But he was coming towards you, getting down on his knees in a way that made your breath catch in your throat.

‘I will assist,’ he announced, in that way he had where there was just no arguing with him.

‘Why do I feel like you have never, in your life, put together flat-pack furniture?’ you asked, and he grinned at you.

‘You know me so well,’ he said, and you really fucking did.

It took an hour and a half, but by the end of your toiling you and Javi had the legs on the desk, all four and all the same length. It turned out if the dowel didn’t sit properly you could just whack it really hard with a paperweight. The things you learned working for Javi.

You stood together, appraising the upturned desk.

‘So, I guess we just each get on the other end and…flip it?’ you suggested.

‘It looks heavy,’ he said, his brows furrowed in concentration.

‘It is, I got the really expensive one,’ you said, and smiled at him when he looked at you, questioningly.

‘You spoiled me?’ he said, and you scoffed.

‘One way to think of it,’ you said, not wanting to tell him you’d paid with glee thinking somehow this might put a little dent in his amour somewhere, knowing that of course it wouldn’t, but feeling the vindication anyway.

‘Ok, Cariño, you get on that end and then I think we…put it on its side?’ he asked, and you nodded at him.

‘Yeah, roll it that way,’ you said, gesturing to your left as you leant down.

‘That way?’ Javi asked, gesturing with his head to his left, not yours, but you weren’t watching him.

‘Mmmhmm,’ you hummed, bracing yourself to lift. Was it lift with your knees to protect your back? Squat? That seemed like it would strain more…

‘1…2…3…’ you counted, hefting the desk to the left while Javi hoisted to the right. It immediately corkscrewed, rolling out of your hand and twisting your wrist as it thudded to the ground. You screamed in surprise and then blooming pain, holding your wrist in your hand as if you could repair it with just your grip.

‘Cariño!’ Javi called, vaulting over the desk and at your side in an instant, reaching out to grasp your wrist. He moved so quickly, so agile over to you that you didn’t have time to react. He pulled up your sleeve to get a better look, turning your wrist towards him to inspect it.

‘Wait, wait…’ you said, as your mark gently rotated into his view.

He froze. You closed your eyes for a moment, terrified to look at him, before you heard his sharp intake of breath. You opened your eyes again to see him examining it, lifting your wrist closer to him to properly inspect it.

‘Cariño…’ he whispered, and you swallowed acid over your raw throat.

‘I can explain,’ you said, but you couldn’t really. He finally lifted his eyes to yours, as if remembering for the first time the mark was attached to a person, and you watched as the confusion on his face crumbled away to a sorrow deep enough you thought he might stop your heart.

‘You knew,’ he said, his voice soft and dripping in betrayal. ‘All this time, you stood and watched…and you never said a thing.’

‘Mr Gutierrez…’ you whispered, not knowing where to even start. He was right, of course he was right, but you had never intended to tell him, had never allowed yourself to imagine the conversation unfolding around you in this moment. The hurt bloomed on his face, and you felt tears start to well at your waterline. You blinked them back.

‘The whole time. You knew,’ he said.

You did, you had known. So many things you had known.

‘I…’ you started, but he was moving, standing up and backing away from you, out towards the door. You looked away as he left you, like you always did. You knew now it would be the last time.

--

This was beyond even Ben and Jerry’s. Karla mostly left you to it, the unique weight of the pain at having hurt your soulmate indescribable. You had read that it was possible, when you finally made the connection, that you could feel their feelings as richly and as closely as your own. The combined weight of your sadness crushed you, pulverised you, such that you could barely think straight. Karla brought you easy food; toast and bananas and chicken soup, and you ate it all without tasting, only feeding your meat suit purely for maintenance, and didn’t allow yourself to remember the taste of the fish Javi brought back to you; his soulmate and his traitor.

You resigned, immediately. In writing, in an email that was never replied to. Each day you scrolled Instagram for news of the inevitable engagement to Vineyard. You held your phone in one hand while you rubbed at your aching mark with the other.

You knew, there were stories, of divorcing soulmates. It was rare but sometimes circumstances overcame even destiny, even biology. Sometimes people died, leaving their soulmates behind. You spent time on message boards reading the stories of people who had lost their connections, of people who had woken up one day and felt the mark cold to the touch, had known in their hearts then and there that their mate was gone. Some had felt it before they had found their matches. They struggled the most; the what ifs, the could-have-beens.

You considered that maybe it was a blessing that you at least knew it was Javi. It would stop you looking for the rest of your life, stop you having to check the wrist of every man you met, second guess any minimal attraction you might have felt to another.

Karla sat on the end of the couch as you stared out the window, the TV on but unwatched in front of you.

‘You love him,’ she said, simply, and you nodded. Heartsick, you didn’t have the words.

‘From the first moment,’ you agreed.

‘No, but it’s deepened, the more time you’ve spent with him,’ she observed. You nodded again before lifting your knees to your chest and resting your cheek there. If you closed your eyes and really tried you could conjure the memory of his cologne, could imagine you rested your head on his chest.

--

A couple of weeks passed. You couldn’t be sure how many. You got off the couch, the thrumming hurt of your heart and your mark lessening somewhat as the days went on. You checked it every morning for its warmth, relieved not to find it cold, and you wondered if your lessening sadness was really just that Javi was moving on with Vineyard. That now you were starting to lose his connection you could be left to your own miserable devices. You considered that this was inevitable, that the ending you had been expecting probably ran pretty close to this. You hated that you had hurt him, though. You had only ever intended to fade into the background before he noticed you were gone.

You applied for another job, this one far less glamorous but less likely to utterly gut you. On the mainland, doing some general bookkeeping and executive assistance for a CEO of a small manufacturing firm. It would be simple work, and you were a shoo-in, subject to a satisfactory referee check. You hovered over the form naming Javi as your previous employer.  In the end you named his business manager, leaving the details for him to fill in.

Your reference check came back within the hour. Glowing. You were offered the job.

Your first week was good, then your first fortnight. You received your first pay-check with gratitude, even though it was almost half what Javi had been paying you. You felt good to be productive again, to be able to put some of your skills to good use. You didn’t have to trail behind your boss as he blew off any and all obligations for some flight of fancy. You spent considerably less time discussing Face/Off.

It was fine, you were fine. It was going to be fine. You were aware, distantly, that you were probably heaving in denial and numbness, and it suited you, so you let it.

Except when you woke on what you thought would be a normal Thursday, your mark burning so hot you gasped awake, reaching for it to check it hadn’t been seared into your skin. Holding it up to the light it looked the same. Karla checked it and confirmed it seemed to the same temperature as the rest of you. Just your nerves were screaming, perceiving a flame not visible to the eye.

You googled, checking message boards, searched ‘burning marks’. There was nothing, which you weren’t sure was a good or a bad thing, worried for a moment you would pull up results from those who had lost their spouses, the burning mark serving as a premonition of the horrors to come. You slathered burn cream on it, which did nothing, took an anti-inflammatory or two and considered calling in sick. In the end you decided against it, because you weren’t sick sick, you were heartsick, and somehow that just didn’t feel anywhere near as real.

On the ferry over to the mainland you considered lowering your arm into the ocean water, the cool of the water maybe able to provide some relief. You would have to get down on your knees in your work skirt, on the wet and not particularly clean ferry floor. You considered it longer than you cared to admit.

In your office the heat from your mark started travelling up your arm and you started googling ‘infections of the blood and skin’ and ‘septicaemia’. You wondered if it was an allergic reaction, if perhaps you had run your arm through some kind of heinous plant, and you wondered if the office had an epi-pen in the first aid kit. You googled if it was bad to use one if you weren’t actually in anaphylactic shock. The internet was pretty damning of the idea.

You wondered if you needed to go the local emergency care clinic, was just debating asking your boss for the afternoon off, when a shadow darkened the door.

‘Cariño?’ it said, a perfect Javi-shaped silhouette as the sun streamed in from behind.

‘Mr Gutierrez?’ you asked, gasping immediately as your mark pulsed, the heat shooting down your arm and into your chest. Was it a stroke? How were you supposed to know if it was a stroke?

‘My Cariño,’ he said, stepping forward into your little office and somehow crowding all the space. His cologne wafted over to you, and you felt the warmth of it spread over your nostrils and down into your blood. You wavered a little on your feet.

‘I’m so sorry,’ you said, stepping back from him as he advanced, feeling the sudden urge to keep space between you, not to let him to get too close, knowing that if got within arms reach you would pull him into you, wrap his arms around your back and your legs over his hips, never detach yourself from him, sink your lips over his neck and taste his pulse through his skin.

‘Cariño…’ he said, but you interrupted him, the searing heat of your mark now making its way to your racing heart.

‘I thought you would be happier with someone more like you… I thought it was a kindness, that you would feel something for someone that would be enough to make you happy. And I only ever wanted you to be happy, you have to understand that I did it so that you could be happy…’ you trailed off, the words spilling out of you now, distracted by the flames in your chest. ‘Karla said I should tell you, let you choose, and I know now that she was right, I think I always knew she was right, but the idea that you wouldn’t choose me, I wasn’t sure I could survive it, so I didn’t let you. It was selfish and it wasn’t very brave and I know I hurt you, and I never wanted to…’ you felt tears on your cheeks, marvelled at them, at how they could appear unbidden. You weren’t sure you were breathing. You weren’t fully convinced you were alive.

‘Cariño…’ he tried again, taking another step towards you but you held your hand up, your aching mark now uncovered.

‘Please, please…I don’t think I can…’ you started, but you didn’t know how to finish. You didn’t think you could stand it if he’d come here to just finally end things. To tell you he was going to marry Vineyard but wanted a clear conscience first. Wanted to let you down easy, in person. Was your mark burning because he was furious with you? He mostly just seemed nervous.

‘Let me speak, Cariño, oh my god,’ he muttered, his patience rapidly running out. You stopped short. ‘I know. I mean, not at first. At first, I did not understand, but I thought about what you must have been feeling, how you must have thought of me.’

‘No, I…’

‘The silly man who runs around causing you problems.’

‘No…’ you started, but he kept talking, despite you.

‘But then I thought harder, and I felt more.’ He gestured to his mark, the perfect match for yours. ‘I was not angry, Cariño, I could never be angry at you. I was sad, I think, that I had failed you.’

You shook your head, the words failing you.

‘I felt more into the mark…I do not think I am making any sense. But I thought of you, my Cariño, I think I heard you in my head a little bit, and I thought of your beautiful heart, and I knew why you did it.’

‘You did?’

At this he shrugged, honest and raw. ‘Of course I did, you are my One.’

‘Why did I do it?’ you asked him, genuinely still trying to settle it for yourself.

‘Because you love, and this is how you show it. You put others first. You always have.’ You nodded. This was true. ‘I see that about you, Cariño. What do you see about me?’

You answered immediately. ‘I see a man who feels deeply and freely, who is passionate about what he wants… who usually gets it.’

‘Usually?’ he asked. You noticed for the first time that, since he had started talking, he had also been moving towards you. That if you reached out to him, and he reached out to you, skin would meet skin.

‘Always,’ you said, grinning.

He nodded. ‘It is true, I will not lie,’ he said. ‘I get what I want.’

He took another step, and this time you stayed put.

‘You don’t hate me? You’re not mad? All those dates…’ you asked, and he shook his head.

‘I knew,’ he said, devastating you in two words.

‘You did?’ you asked, with the little breath you still had.

‘Some part of me knew, yes,’ he nodded. His brows were crashing together now, his face so earnest, so open, as he inched towards you like he was trying not to spook a bear. Later you would realise the closer he was to you the less your mark burned. You could smell him this close, more than his cologne but the clean, crisp scent that was just his skin, just Javi.

‘All of those women, Cariño. In all of those women I looked for you.’

You didn’t think. Nothing about it was conscious. You just felt the firework explode in your chest and moved to him, letting him pull you into his arms and kiss you, his lips searching and little muffled whimpers matching your own. It wasn’t just a kiss, it was a melding, a coming together. It was something right and essential slotting into place, a line item checked off on the Universe’s ledger. You gasped into his mouth, your knees weak, your pulse heavy at your throat. His skin on yours. He reached up a hand to cup your jaw, pulling you closer into him.

‘Javi…’ you whispered, and he groaned a little.

‘Say it again,’ he said, and you did.

[sanctus-ingenium]

Another one of these since i haven't done it in a while! Sketch -> finished illustration

Thoughts & process below the cut :>

Out of Bounds: i deleted the sketch of this off my ipad because i didn't like it, and for months it only existed as a screenshot on discord. finally in january of this year i was like Wait Actually and decided to keep working on it. I didn't achieve the look I was going for (kind of foggy and vague. It came out too sharp and high contrast) but it was fun to throw the kitchen sink at it for an afternoon and then call it done finally. I don't remember which horse this was originally supposed to be, I think Macha?

I reused the pose, you'll find the same one in my Pascal sketchbook from the section on gait studies. That's the cool thing about doing 30 sketches at once, you can finish them up any time you like for a different drawing

The Fool ft Islin: the original concept for this is from [takes a moment to decipher the american date system on discord] January 2022

It wasn't dynamic enough, but I've had this on the backburner for sooo long. I think I completed like 4 cards in between this sketch and the final version lol. But, for a bit of background, this is from my series of major arcana based in Inver, and in particular the events of the 1860s-era book series, Moth Viper Foal (a demo of the first book, Said The Black Horse, is available for free/pwyw in my shop). This scene is a companion to Said The Black Horse, depicting the aftermath of the traumatic fight that caused Islin to storm off. He had been working at the mill as a semiprofessional back alley surgeon when he received an offer to join the church and work as a trained surgeon in their hospital. But when he brought the good news back to his friends it was met with utter rejection, driving him to basically run away to join the church. while gay and trans. thus the card.

he didn't actually bring a bag with him when he ran out but for the sake of the card i drew him with one

Gryfon and Pantera: This is how 99% of holy beast drawings start out, even the super stylised ones. I struggle a lot to draw them in procreate so they start in sai and then i transfer them over. The story of this is already explained in the caption of the original post so I'll just talk about the process which was... honestly torturous. I actually don't like too much textures and effects on things (wild, I know) and this one and Out of Bounds are ones where I kind of preferred it pre-texturising.

The text on the side is the official in-universe report of the event, detailing the casualties, the valiant actions of Gryfon's knight before he died and so on. There's also spoilers in there :>

My main struggle with this art style is how it always ends up slightly TOO sharp and crisp in a way the just a blur filter never can correct. There's not a lot of immersion to break, to be fair, but I think this still does it a little. I need to get more comfortable doing the lines with larger and softer brushes, and allowing imperfections.

[sacredsapling]

How to transfer sketches to watercolor paper

Ever created a drawing you really love, then decided that you wanted to paint it in watercolor (or transfer it to another type of paper)? Or maybe you just want to avoid smudges on your good paper? Or transfer a digital sketch onto paper?

This tutorial will help!

Start with a sketch on plain cheap copy or sketch paper (print if you need to, or photocopy your original sketch if you don't want to ruin it).

Next, flip the paper over (so you're looking at the blank side) and put it on a lightbox. Don't have one? No worries! Hold it up to a window, or put it on your iPad screen at max brightness.

Now, take an (ideally HB non-mechanical) graphite pencil and scribble all over the lines shining through, until it looks like a messy copy of your original sketch.

(First image is of just the graphite back, second is of the corner flipped so you can see the original sketch too)

Now, attach it to your nice paper graphite side down. Use tape on two corners (so it stays in place, but you can peel up the other corners to check it). 

Tips for easily released tape: Cut the tape to your desired length and put it on fabric, like your pants, and pull it off. Repeat a few times. The oils from your fingers plus the fibers will make it less sticky!

Now, trace the original side of your sketch with a ball point pen! You need a very sharp tip and to be able to see where you’ve drawn, so definitely use a ball point pen for this. Use firm pressure!! (Your hand will probably be sore if you do this all at once). Make sure you’re on a hard surface, too.

Tip: start in a corner you can flip to check, and make sure it's transferring properly. If not, add more/a softer graphite to the back and/or press harder.

When you're done, you'll have a light but visible pencil guide to paint right over!

Want other tips? Send in an ask or check out my tutorial tag!

[merotwst]

EVEN WHEN THE LEARNING'S DONE AND NOTHING'S NEW !

‹ . housewardens ›

· scenario drabbles

⇝moments that happened in your married life.

[ n: a little something to get myself out of a writers block. not proofread and not very confident of my writing bcs ahaha i havent written in a hot minute + no motivation. this took me almost a week to finish but i still hope u guys enjoy ! ilyyyy ]

⑇

- - - → tw. children (does that count as a tw?????? idk man kids jumpscare in kalim's part)

⑇

riddle rosehearts ‹ heartslabyul ›

it wasn't rare for riddle to be working so late. he was a busy man and lived up to his parents' legacy of being the best of the best. you were aware of this when you said yes to his proposal to spend a life with him forever but as his spouse, it pains you to see him overwork himself sometimes. it wasn't the first time you woke from your quiet slumber at 2 in the morning to an empty space beside you. your feet padded across the cold marble floor through the hallway adorned with photographs gilded in gold of you and him that have been taken over the years. a soft knock at the mahogany doors to his study and a quiet response from the other side permitting you to come in. the tea on the tray you carried made riddle sigh with relief, the tension in his body seemingly fading away. he had a soft smile on his face as he brought the teacup to his lips.

“come to bed, riddle. it's so late.” you urge him gently as you made yourself comfortable on one of the chair on the other side of his desk.

he gave you weary look, “i'm not sure i can yet, my love. there's still so much work to do.”

you let out a soft sigh, “i figured as much.” you whispered, standing up and walking around the desk to give him a soft kiss on the lips, “i'll be heading back to sleep then.” you inform him and quietly made your way back to the room.

it wasn't rare for riddle to be working so late. he was a busy man who lived up to his parents' legacy of being the best of the best. it was rare, however, for him to softly close the bedroom door behind him leaving his study and his paperwork unfinished to slip under the covers and wrap his arms around your form.

“what made you change your mind?” you asked, a loving hand on his cheek.

“you did,” he said with a sheepish smile on his face, “you always do.”

⑇

leona kingscholar ‹ savanaclaw ›

when you choose to accept a prince's request for your hand hand marriage, you're not only accepting him as a person, you're also accepting the responsibility that comes with becoming royalty. since the day you and leona exchanged your vows, for better or for worse and till death do you part, the title of royal has been embedded onto your name and cemented into sunset savannah's history for all eternity. what you do and say will be seen, heard and talked about by the public. it's your duty to be present, not just for your husband the royal family, but for yourself as well.

so you do your part. you attend the balls, you speak out on important issues that need attention. you smile, you wave, conversing with other country's political leaders and powerful people. you learn to adapt and navigate through the life of a royalty one step at a time. you were doing your best but sometimes it felt like it wasn't enough. and that's when he comes in to yank an ipad out of your hands and snap you out of your trance. he says dwelling on ridiculous articles and getting yourself all affected negatively by it doesn't do anyone any good. that's when he wipes the frustrated hot tears from your cheeks as he sits beside you on the bed, a softer tone now etched in his tone when he spoke, “i know it isn't easy.”

you sniffle in response, your voice shaky as you spoke in uneven breaths, “i'm trying so hard,” a sob, “why does it always feel like i'm always running short? why am i sometimes being treated like i don't know what's happening?”

leona's tail flicks, “did the articles tell you that? or was it the servants whispering in the halls? the people in the ballrooms?” he places a hand on your chin and gently makes you look at him, “listen, i don't know what you overheard or read—but the fact that you undermine your own achievements for the validation of other people is annoying the shit out of me.”

his eyes bore into you as his hands squeezed yours, “you're not royalty from birth, but the amount of things you were willing to change—willing to do just so you can be with me still constantly leaves me in awe. the politics, the royal etiquette and other pointless bullshit takes years to master. you're almost halfway through the progress bar despite being so new to it all.” leona places his forehead against yours, “even if the whole world is against you, i'll be by your side. i've never been more proud to have you as my partner. fuck everyone else.”

when you choose to accept a prince's request for your hand hand marriage, you're not only accepting him as a person, you're also accepting the responsibility that comes with becoming royalty. since the day you and leona exchanged your vows, for better or for worse. you've done all of this just for him. you would keep doing it just for him because know he'd kidnap every star in he sky if you asked him to. you can cry, you can scream, you can be angry—but he's always there and always will be and till death do you part.

you let out a breath you didn't even know you were holding in the entire time. and with a raspy voice and a genuine smile, you whisper back.

“fuck everyone else.”

⑇

azul ashengrotto ‹ octavinelle ›

homesickness is something you've dealt with the first time you were practically punted over to this twisted world you now reside in. but over time, you realize that this world was always more comfortable for you. it became home whenever you were in the arms of your lover. you found comfort in azul's arms so gentle and tender around you—as if you were the rarest and most fragile seashell he picked up from the depths of his home in the sea. eventually, you stopped thinking of the life you've left behind. you were happy here and that's what mattered.

likewise, he found his home in your arms around his neck in a warm embrace like the first rays of the sun just as the winter season was coming to an end. but unlike you, azul had access to his home. he just never had much opportunity to come back to visit. his life with you on land was what you both collectively decided on. a house near the beach, but nowhere near where his home is at. just enough to breathe in the salt air and the cool embrace of the ocean breeze on his skin. and on more than one occasion, you've seen him let the waves wash over his feet after he'd come back from work. his shoes in his hands as he mindlessly watched the sun set over the horizon.

“a penny for your thoughts?” your hand subconsciously finding its way to his, fingers interlocking together and fitting together perfectly.

“just thinking of the coral sea.”

“i've told you last time we should go to visit again.”

azul let out a sigh and you knew why he didn't like going back to the coral sea—to several memories of his past littered across every corner of the place. he looked at you wearily, the dimming orange beams of the sun coated his face with a lovely hue that made him look almost ethereal and melancholic.

“it's hard going back there sometimes,” he admitted, his head hung, “it took a lot for me to take you back there... to show you everything i've been running away from.”

“and i love every part of it. every part of you, azul.”

you squeeze his hand gently, “it's never always sunshine and calm seas. and i'm always here to embrace you when storms come.”

homesickness is something azul's never really dealt with in the years he's been away from sea. he was happy to be out of there and start anew—but he didn't have a home. no, he was always relying on himself. but over time, he realized that this world was always more comfortable with you. it became home whenever he was your arms, his lover. you were his new home. and no matter where he would end up, he always finds himself running home to you.

⑇

kalim al-asim ‹ scarabia ›

“baba's here!” was exclaimed by an energetic boy popping out from the blanket fort you all built together. giggles bounced around the walls as little pairs of feet padded along the floor. the children both ran to their father, the younger one trying her best not to trip and fall on her way there. kalim, who was still in conversation with jamil as he entered the room, had been cut off by the squeals and giggles of the children running to his embrace.

“ya malayiki! 'abi saeid jidana liruyatik maratan 'ukhraa!” (oh, my angels! dad's so happy to see you again!) your husband exclaimed excitedly, wasting no time kneeling to catch their warm embraces in full, “have you two been good?” he asked, lifting your daughter up in his arms earning an excited giggle from her and taking your son's hand in his free one before standing back up, “naeam ya 'baba!” (yes daddy!), your little girl giggled excitedly, “we built a house!” she squealed, pointing at the blanket fort. it was quite a big fort filled with small fairy lights and plenty of pillows and maybe a few snacks littered here and there from their 'construction break'. you three had spent hours making ‘the biggest house for baba’ for when he would get back and the kids are evidently very proud of the outcome of their hard work.

“(maman/baba etc.) said we could sleep here tonight!” the little boy chimed in, shaking his dad's hand to catch his attention. kalim could only grin widely at this, “well,” he started, “since you both worked so hard building the house, i say we all sleep here tonight!” the gasps from the kids and the happy cheers that followed indicated the joy they felt. he's always been a natural with them and you always adored him with children. it's just that he can get quite busy sometimes, which even he has told you about how saddened he is whenever he's apart from his family. and so whenever he has time, you can be sure every second is devoted to you and the kids. his whole heart is with you, after all. always has been since the moment he laid eyes on you all those years ago.

“alright kids,” he said, placing a kiss on your daughter's cheek and squeezing your son's hand gently, “jamil will take you to get you cleaned and ready for bed, okay?” they both grinned in response, “okay!” the kids said simultaneously.

“kalim.” jamil gave a disapproving look, “how many times must i tell you that this is the nanny's job and not mine.” he said in an annoyed tone while simultaneously taking the little girl in his arms and holding onto the boy's hand. this is when you come in from behind, wrapping your arms around your husband's waist, “aw, but they like you, jamil. don't you, kids?”

“i love uncle jamil!” the younger one giggled, “he's one of the funny grown ups.”

jamil let out a defeated sigh, “come on, children. let's get you both cleaned up.” he said, softly shaking his head and if you looked close enough you could see the soft smile on his lips as they walked away.

as soon as the silly questions of, ‘when will you get married’ and ‘can i pet your parrot, uncle?’ faded off into the distance, kalim wasted no time peppering every inch of your face in kisses and tackling you to the blanket fort as both of you giggled and laughed like middle schoolers rolling over the soft silky fabric under your skin. safe to say no matter how old you get, the love you and your husband share will forever remain the same as when it first blossomed from years ago.

⑇

vil schoenheit ‹ pomefiore ›

vil liked to keep things organized. he liked to keep a schedule he strictly follows like the skincare routine every night or the color patterns of what fashions he'd decide to wear that day. it's the same as when you were both courting. he had a routine to follow whenever you would see each other on a date. flowers, then he'd check if you dressed right, take you out and give you the best night of your life.

and you know how people say ‘change is good’? well, there are also some things that stay the same over the years. and that was good for you, too. like how he'd book the best restaurant in the city or take you out for a romantic cruise on your wedding anniversary. those nights were always perfect. and at the end of those nights is the same as well. paparazzi flashing their cameras at your face asking the most ridiculous questions. people getting in your business. that was the down side of your relationship with vil, but it wasn't anything you couldn't handle. you knew what you were getting into the day you married him.

but oh sevens. when will they give you a break? it's your wedding anniversary with vil again tonight and he had a whole evening planned out for you. but there was a swarm of paparazzi outside the penthouse you were staying in. your husband had an upcoming movie and that had everyone abuzz and trying to get some statements out of him. there were so many to the point where you both had to go back inside because you could see the camera flashes with your eyes closed. well, you could. vil was used to it. but he wasn't about to force you to run out there with him again. your perfect night hasn't started yet and you already looked exhausted from that temporary encounter. vil silently cursed them for that.

after maybe 30 minutes of waiting for them to leave and with no luck of it ever happening, the blonde stood up from his spot on the couch, “that's it,” he spoke with a tone of finality in his voice, “get changed, darling. we're leaving.”

the confusion was evident in your face and it only made sense when vil came out wearing a hoodie, jeans and mask over his face. he hated wearing such common looking clothes, but sometimes situations call for it. and for you, frankly, he would do almost anything.

vil liked to keep things organized. he liked to keep a schedule he strictly follows like the skincare routine every night or the color patterns of what fashions he'd decide to wear that day. he absolutely hated when his plans wouldn't pull through but sometimes he finds serendipity in even the most dreary situations with you. you could spend your anniversary on a special yacht with the best waiters serving you first class meals and a candlelit dinner or just in a parking lot inside your car with cheap wine that you both agreed tasted awful but kept drinking anyway and at the end of the day, everything still works out. as long as you're by his side, he can learn to be contented even with all the disorganization of ruined plans as long as he's laughing to trashy radio podcasts and temporarily (today's a special exception, he says) ruining his diet for you.

⑇

idia shroud ‹ ignihyde ›

your husband, your favorite person, best friend, the only one you love enough to spend the rest of your life with... can sometimes be a little irritating. you know idia better than most people around you. he wasn't exactly the easiest person to get to know because of his very reserved personality but he is one of the smartest and funniest people you know. and you'd hoped that since he is one of the smartest people you know and you're actually married to him, he'd lend a hand when you're trying to do a little bit of spring cleaning to at least make the house look like it's a habitable place and not just a reserve for an endless supply of red bull and monster energy drinks. though the house wasn't necessarily ‘messy’, but it always seemed pretty empty and lacking a bit of life to it. so you thought of doing a bit of rearranging, putting up new decorations and replacing a couple furnitures which you both had bought and majority picked out by him.

this has been the third time you'd checked in his office and your patience was growing thin. you watched him from the doorway as he typed away some sort of code in his computer which was the only light source in the room. you crossed your arms as you called out his name, “idia shroud.” before flicking the light switch on making him hiss at the sudden brightness. he flinched upon seeing you. uh-oh. you used his full name, this can't be good.

“i've been calling you down to help me assemble the table. i'm not good at building things!”

“and i told you i'd be there in a bit. i'm just finishing things up around here.”

“idia.”

“okay! fine. jeez you don't have to threaten me.” he threw his hands up in the air in defeat as he stood up from his chair, “you're lucky i love you.”

you cocked a brow at this comment, arms still crossed across your chest and he rolled his eyes, “fine. other way around, i know. i'm lucky you love me.” he sighed but this time with a smile on his face as he leaned in to plant a kiss on your forehead, “now where is that table you need me to build?”

your husband, your favorite person, best friend, the only one you love enough to spend the rest of your life with... can sometimes be a little irritating. but you know idia better than most people around you. and he sometimes would seem detached and spends most of his time in his own company in front of his computer, he truly cares about you and your happiness. the amount of love he shows through the things he does, even the most menial of tasks like bearing the new, less darker curtain colors that you wanted to put up on the windows or stopping whatever new project he was trying to develop to help you move the new couches around the house. he would never do this for anyone else. and as you both sit under the kitchen counter, a bag of open chips on the floor and soda in your hands looking over at the new house makeover you both spent all day working on, you smiled.

“i'm lucky you love me.” you said, taking a sip of your soda and putting your head on his shoulder. he let out a short, breathy laugh before placing a soft kiss on your temple, “wanna go play mario kart and ruin our newly bought couch with chip crumbs?”

“sure.” you said, slowly standing up. you took a few seconds to stare at each other before you started sprinting to the couch, “last one to get there is in charge of cleaning it up!”

“hey, no fair!”

“nothing's fair in mario kart, babe!”

⑇

malleus draconia ‹ diasomnia ›

you once told your husband that one of your most favorite things about him is his smile and the way it so gently breaks out around you. his booming laughter that follows as you eat dinner at the big, lonely castle that was once the place he walked around alone that now feels more alive after he'd married you. you make the most emptiest of places feel alive with love and laughter. you painted his life with colors that he could never see with anyone else.

and speaking of painting, he'd snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of the metal part of he paintbrush clinked on the glass of the jar as the painter dipped the brush into the water. he gave you a glance where you were sat, looking straight at the back of the canvas as if trying to bore a hole onto the painting focusing on keeping your face straight and expressionless as instructed. it was traditional for briar valley's royalty to have their portraits painted whenever there was an addition to the family. and this case, the new addition was you when you both married. and now as he sat beside you, stealing glances he was sure you noticed by the way your lips twitched, he couldnt help but think of how the morning sun's rays seeping into the room that bathed your skin with the soft golden glow of the 10:00 am sun. it made you look absolutely beautiful. well, you always looked beautiful in his eyes. it's why—

someone cleared their throat.

“your highness,” the painter called out to him, “eyes front, if you please.”

he quickly straightened himself, “my apologies.” he hastily responded. he could hear you suck in a breath beside him, probably trying to contain the giggle that was trying to escape your throat.

another 20 minutes of silence passes. just the soft brushing of the paintbrush against the canvas and the occasional clink of the glass could be heard. he couldn't help but steal a glance at you again but to his surprise, you had your eyes on him as well. upon seeing his gaze shift to your figure, you immediately played it cool pretending you weren't looking but the way the smile threatened to break your facade betrayed you. malleus couldn't help the corner of mouth from twitching.

you did your little inhale again to try to compose yourself but uncharacteristically for him, he found that quite humorous abd had to clear his throat to keep him from letting out a laugh.

now that made you break out a smile and clear your own throat to try and stop yourself from bursting into full blown laughter.

you heard the irritation of the painter in the way he placed his paintbrush down. he stood up and gave you and malleus a sharp look before speaking in a very annoyed voice, “i shall go and have a drink delivered to both highnesses as to aid you both in the supposed strains on your throats.”

he made his way to the door, grumbling to himself about how ‘undignified’ or how ‘not taken seriously’ the situation was.

there was a moment of silence before you and malleus burst into a fit of bubbly laughter. his laughs were in his chest escaping in low vibrations while yours were loud and sharp simply to show how hilarious you found the situation to be. with how glorious both your attires were for the portraits looking like the epitome of royalty, the way you were both giggling like teenagers simply threw all the gloriousness out the window.

you once told your husband that one of your most favorite things about him is his smile and the way it so gently breaks out around you. his booming laughter that follows as you eat dinner at the big, lonely castle that was once the place he walked around alone that now feels more alive after he'd married you. even the most boring events in his life that once he would have been forced to accept in all its blandness would be splashed with the most vibrant colors whenever you were in the picture. his life, his love, his pride and joy—you. now that he's seen colors he never would've imagined to be possible to exist in all its dazzling beauty, he can never go back to the dreary shade of gray that hazed over his life. you were his freedom, and he would be ready fight the world to hear your laughter by his side till death do you part.

© merotwst 2023 · do not copy, translate or reproduce.

[mrghostrat]

hi! Sorry to bug you wih a dumb question, but I gotta ask: what settings do you use on csp to get the emotes you made so dang smooth and crispy? I make emotes as well, but I can't make my lines to look that dang good.

ohh not dumb at all!! crispness makes all the difference for emotes but people rarely talk about how to actually achieve it

i use the default g-pen with level 2 anti aliasing. clip studio tends to default most brushes to level 3 or 4, which gives the brush a much softer look. you can change your anti aliasing level in the tool property menu (window > tool property to pull it up)

if you don't have this option, you can pull up the full tool menu by clicking the wrench icon. and if you want easy access to any of these settings, you can add them to your tool property window by clicking the eyeball box next to the setting.

(hiding settings you never use is also a really nice way to slim down your clip studio UI and make it less overwhelming)

if you're already using a weak anti aliasing setting or you want to improve lines you've already drawn, you can sharpen them! i used to have to do this to every single emote when i used photoshop and its fuzzy ass lines 😭

filters > sharpen > sharpen, or sharpen more. you can sharpen as many times as you like to stack the effect. unsharp mask is also a handy tool when you're sharpening more than just lineart, which lets you control the intensity and radius.

all these menus are the same on pc, mac, and ipad, and work in every version of clip studio :)

[reginalusus]

Retro tutorial?

Disclaimer: Tumblr, for some reason, likes to dullen the colour of the screenshots, just know that they're actually a bit more saturated and brighter than how they appear here.

So, after posting my recent retro drawings on Reddit, and getting some comments that genuinely made me cry (/pos), I noticed I also got quite a few comments asking me how I actually do these drawings.

Er, I'm not the best teacher, really, and honestly, there's probably an easier, faster way to do it. But, this is my way of doing it, lmao. I work on a Gen 2 iPad Pro with a Gen 1 Apple Pencil, just in case you're wondering.

Firstly, here are the four apps I use for this kind of drawing:

From left to right: Sketchbook Pro, Pixlr, Photoleap and CapCut. Sketchbook Pro is what I use to draw everything. You could honestly use any drawing app though. We will talk about the other three when we get to them.

Step 1: draw whatever it is you want to draw.

I'm going to use the first drawing I did in this style to help me explain: my simpy Spamton drawing! Firstly, basically draw whatever your little heart wants. Get your sketch layer down. Here's what my sketch layer looked like:

Looks bad, no? Lol, it always starts that way. Just get your drawing down first. I rely heavy on references for clothing. I found this particular pose on Pinterest. Pinterest is great for finding references.

Notice that I have some spaces filled in with the word 'black'. This is literally just to remind me that the particular space will just be filled with a solid black.

This particular pose and setting is tricky, I'm just using it as an example and because I still have the original files for it. I recommend maybe starting with a portrait or a face first.

Step 2: fill in and clean your lines. This is important, especially for the anime look.

When I do linework, I tend to make the lines thicker wherever they meet one another. For this style, it doesn't really work, and I had to train myself to stop doing that.

As you can see, I made some changes along the way, such as making Spamton's expression softer and making him grin instead of smirking. How do I know when to make something solid black? This is mostly for clothes. If you are following a reference, and you notice that some of the shadows are darker than others on the reference, make those darkest shadows your solid-blacks.

So, here we have the finished lines! Remember: no making the lines thicker where they meet! Keep the lines thin all around. If you're wondering what brush I use in Sketchbook for the finished lines, it's this one:

This is the ONLY brush I use for the retro drawings, besides a pencil for the sketch layer. It provides a nice, solid, thin line.

Step 3: Filling Flat Colours.

The easiest step IMO. Choose your colours, fill those babies in.

Unfortunately, I think I deleted my flats layer (I have no idea why, but I cannot find it, lmao), so I don't have an image to show for this step. But, it's self-explanatory. Just colour it in with your flats.

You can choose saturated colours if you wish, but we'll be editing that sort of stuff later.

Step 4: Shading.

Ooh, the tricky stuff. But this is what will make or break the look of the drawing. Besides lines, shading is important as fuck for this style. I recommend pulling up some screenshots from actual 80s/90s anime. For this Spamton drawing, here's some of the ones I used as a reference:

Remember to make your shading on separate layers! You may want to change their tone and opacity later, as I did.

The shading in old anime is usually done with one colour, which is cooler-toned than the flat it is based off. Remember to keep the shading as simple as you can if you want to actually make it look like a screenshot from an anime or cartoon.

For shadows, I used the multiply tool or the overlay tool. You can mess around with these to see which one suits your drawing best. It mostly depends on the colour.

For 'lights', I used either the soft glow tool or the overlay tool. However, I don't recommend spending too much time 'lighting' your colours. Retro anime tends to focus more on shadows rather than lighting (obviously there are exceptions).

As you can see, the only 'lighting' I used on Spamton was a small section of his hair, and a shine on his suit. The rest is either shadows or flats:

For clothing, follow a reference or follow where your light is coming from. For this, I followed the reference.

Step 5 (Optional): Adding Gradients.

You don't need to do this, but to help with the 'mood' of the drawing, I added a gradient over the top of the layer. I chose a dark purple/blue to give that city vibe, then I used the darken tool and turned the opacity down. So, it looks like this:

The difference isn't much, but it will add a lot to the vibe!

Step 6 (Optional): Backgrounds. *Shudders.*

I'll be real, I can't do backgrounds for shit. Well, I can sort of do them, but I definitely don't enjoy it. If you can do your own backgrounds, this will probably come easier. I have a sneaky, maybe cheaty method, however, to make it look good.

Firstly, make sure any 'windows' or areas in your drawing that you want to add a background to are empty. The windows in Spamton's car here are transparent. You'll want to put your background layer at the very bottom, behind everything else.

Firstly, I choose a solid colour and fill the entire layer. I chose a navy/purple for this one, since it's always dark in Cyber City.

Then, and here's the cheat part, I find a stock image of a city skyline. I deliberately picked one that had sort of 'basic' buildings. Put this on top of your solid colour and use the hard light tool.

The hard light tool tends to focus on the lights and basic outline of the image. I did do some smudging and added some lights to give it that 'retro' feel. The lower quality it looks, the better. So then it looks like this:

But the car needs windows! Easy. I chose a blue colour with the soft glow tool and added them like so (on top of all the background layers):

Step 7: Editing in Pixlr.

Now, this is my favourite part: the editing to really make the image pop! Firstly, we are going to use Pixlr, so save your image and open it up in Pixlr.

So, in Pixlr I only do two things: choose some overlay editors and up the saturation. Firstly, the overlay editors. The ones I choose for the retro look are:

Antonio - this blurs the lines somewhat, and makes it overall darker/softer. I obviously do not use it to its full capacity (there's a slider you can mess around with under each tool to find your desired effect, though I recommend using Antonio only a little.)

Hagrid - this will make it look slightly more saturated and sharper. It also adds a sort of 'burn' effect on each outline of the colours. Again, I use this one only slightly.

Ivan - One of my favourites for Big Shot Spamton. Again, I only use it slightly. This one will add an orange effect and 'fix' some of your shading. Though, it only works to its full potential if you have your shading as best as it can be.

Sara - Another really good one for retro anime. It's sort of like Hagrid, but softer. Depending on your colours, it will also add a soft 'glow' effect. Because of this, I only use it a little, as older anime does not have the intense glow you see in more recent anime, in general.

There are lots of other options. You can play around to see which one will suit the vibe you're going for best!

Then, we go into the general menu and up the saturation if needed!

Step 8: Editing in Photoleap - then back to Sketchbook!

Why the fuck do you use two editors? Simple - Photoleap has some cool options that Pixlr does not, and vice versa. We won't be spending as much time in Photoleap compared to Pixlr.

Now, Photoleap does NOT allow screenshots within the app, so I just have to explain it without any images.

In Photoleap, we're only going to be doing two things, and one of those things are optional. Firstly, using the grain tool. This will really add to that 'old' look. Don't go too hard on it!

The optional thing you can do is add a red chromatic abberation. It's under the 'effects' tab in Photoleap. However, sometimes this will take away from the retro look, so use it carefully. I only used the tiniest amount for this drawing to make the lines look 'cleaner'.

Once I'm done in Photoleap, I save the image and export it back into Sketchbook. This is where I'll add/fix some things, such as adding a shine in Spamton's eyes, a shine on the car window and the smoke coming from his cigarette. I also bring the gradient layer back up and mess with the colour a bit (optional).

Have you noticed the large, black border to the right of the drawing? Yeah, that'll be cropped. I decided to make the overall image smaller and, unfortunately, Sketchbook Pro does not allow you to change the canvas size once you've started a drawing (please add this option, Autodesk!)

Step 9: CapCut Editing.

This will seriously be the cherry-on-top to actually make this thing look like a screenshot. Save your image and open it up in CapCut.

Firstly, you'll want to add an 'effect' to the photo. Under 'retro', I personally choose 'frosted quality', because it adds a moving grain and gives an 'old cartoon' feel, which is what I'm after. There are lots you can choose from, it's up to you to play around with it! You can also adjust the effect as you wish. I tend to turn the blur completely off.

Then, the last step in CapCut: adding a caption, if you want. I make the text yellow and add an italic effect to make it seem like an actual subtitle.

Step 10 (Final): Exporting.

That's us basically finished! I'll export it as a video from CapCut, crop it using my iPad's default editing software in the gallery, then export it as a GIF. Exporting it as a GIF lowers the quality a tad further, which is a bonus for this type of drawing. Viola! You now have a retro-anime-inspired piece!

Final Notes

Again, I'm not a good teacher and this is kind of all over the place, lmao. But, I hope it can guide those who wish to try this style!

If you do try it, maybe tag me and let me see if my tutorial worked for you? Or maybe you were just curious, lmao. There's a LOT of steps here, lol, and I'm not a professional artist by any means, so...

Anyway, that's all from me for now!

[roseyjean]

storytime!

so my mom and I were walking out of a gas station with some snacks and idk what started it but I started talking about Kinich and Xilonen and the 5.1 update and how fucking annoyed I was that I probably wouldn't be able to get either one of them because the mini iPad she's getting me is on backorder and won't be getting to my house for like a month

And when we get back to our semi (yes my mom is a truck driver, yes I go with her) I show her a trailer for kinich and I'm talking about how I think he's neat and I think his attacks are neat cause it's 8-bit, and she goes "Thats a he?"

So processeds me showing her a bit of Lyney's trailer (she thought he was a girl and honestly dressed the way he is I get it) and the trailers for his siblings (she thought fremmy was a girl)

So she says they all look look to feminine so I decide to pull up some more masculine characters

Neuvilette: he's got softer features and yeah ig that's feminine

GHEN I SEE WRIOTHESLEY'S

So I play it

And my mom says he's too feminine

And I fucking Crack up

THEN SHE TOPS IT OFF BY SAYING ONE OF TWO THINGS I CANT REMEKBER WHAY EXAVTLY ITS EITHER:

this is why you don't know what gender you are

OR

this is why you like both genders

NO MOTHER GENSHIN IMPACT IS NOT THE SOUL REASON IM BISEXUAL IT IS ONE REASON BUT NOT THE ONLY REASON AND NO I KNOW WHAT GENDER I AM I KNOW WHAT IVE GOT ON MY CHEST AND BETWEEN MY LEGS THANKS I JUST PREFER BOYS CLOTHES

*sobs in the fetal position*

I talk about genshin so much 😭 she keeps asking me if it's an anime or something

Edit:

Dont remember how but my mother brought up the anime and such I like and said that it's porn

Yup

Guess what anime and stuff she knows I like?

She's heard me talk about TBHK

Saw me watch a bit of Devil Part Timer but not finish it because it was terrible

Saw me watch by the Grace of the Gods, and has heard it because I watched it out loud

Watched Dead Apple with me

And has seen some Genshin characters

So fine, if she thinks the stuff I enjoy is porn because the men have 'boobs' and are a bit feminine, and they're all 'half dressed' then she doesn't have to know what I like. She doesn't have to know any of the stuff I like, period, if she hates it so much when that's not true for 90% of the characters

[busycucumbermelon]

 Lilith affair children

This was just a cute little idea I had but if you like it, let me know and I’ll try doing more like it 

Lucifer stared at his wife, distastefully. Charlie was being consoled by Vaggie, while Alastor stood off to the side. His smile seemed truly forced as Angel Dust and Husk appeared to not know what to do with themselves.

"So where'd you put the affair children? They're clearly not in hell, and heaven wouldn't accept them." Lilith remained silent, staring at the man with true disdain.

"That looks like one of those human apartments on Earth." Lucifer comments as he stares at the globe in her hand. Though he is still annoyed and his thoughts are directed elsewhere, the image of the apartment, with its modern design and mostly blues, whites and purples, does stir something inside him. It's dark and soothing,

The apartment had various floral scents to it, with curtains covering the large bay window. There were flowers on a coffee table along with a drinking cup and an iPad and notebook. A candle flickered on one side of the table, producing a small crackling sound, while a lamp across the room clashed with the TV and produced a blue and white glow on the couch. A sleeping woman was on the couch.

Before panning over to a set of feet, the film took its time to build suspense. It slowly panned up the person's body, shining off the lamp and fixing the pillows of the woman on the couch. "You know, if you continue to sleep on the couch like this, you're going to eventually get a crook in your neck," the male warned. The woman didn't move a muscle, not even a twitch of her lips. They both resembled Lilith, but with different skin tone, they were most definitely not Lucifer

The globe has thus far withheld the man's face, but as he leaned down to blow out the candle, its flame illuminated his features. His chocolate brown eyes shined with a red glow, his hair kept and he had to use one hand to keep hair out of his face. The crackling sound of the candle came to halt as soft smoke filled the air dancing around in front of the man’s face. Now the only thing illuminating the room was the TV.

Turning his attention back to the couch, a happy smile took shape on his lips. He walked over and nudged her shoulder.

"Scooch, will you? If you're going to complain all night, I might as well endure the torture with you".

With that, the woman only opened one of her eyes, a small smile twitching onto her lips. She moved back to make room, causing him to roll his eyes at her antics.

The two made themselves comfortable on the couch, with the woman laying her head on his chest. He then placed his head on top of hers. He spoke in a much softer voice, as if it was only meant for the two of them to hear.

"Good night sissy," he said in a whispered tone, as Lilith's magic picked up his voice. The woman rolled her eyes, playfully hitting his chest.

"You're such a jerk, I should buy a new brother," she commented with a small laugh and playful roll of the eyes.

The male leaned away with a faked offended, look, before scooting back in. "But really good night," he said after a while as the woman's voice broke the silence.

"What would you do if we just died in our sleep?" she asked, sounding quite sinister even for sinners, watching. Sure enough, the video had caught Charlie's attention a while ago. That made her heart sink, knowing that this scene was about to become painful for the two siblings when they died, there would be no sense of peace. No, it would be complete chaos

"At least I would have you," the male voice was soft and caring as he cradled his little sister in his arms. "You're an amazing person," he continued, "And i can't wait to see who we become in our next life, and if we die in our sleep, this is a good last memory." The woman looked up at her big brother, happy that they were twins. She would not trade their reincarnations for anything, even an afterlife.

"You're so cheesy," she quipped with a grin, leaning her head back on him.

[braveclementine]

October 14: Slave/Master (Gabriel Agreste) ❤️

Warnings: 18+ readers only, terrible writing (This sucks. I know I didn't capture slave/master so please give me feedback on how to make this better. There's a reason this has a red heart.), master kink, praise, pet kink, french translations through Google

Copyright: I do not own Gabriel Agreste or any other Miraculous Ladybug characters. I also do not condone any copying of this.

You stood in the corner of the room, wearing your maid outfit. It was a respectable one, with a black skirt with white frill that ended just four inches above your knees. There was a neat white apron down the front, with short sleeves. Your hair was curled, mostly down your back, with a single strand in front, framing against your face just perfectly. 

Though your dress was designed to seem innocent, you knew better. 

Gabriel was sitting at the head of the table, eating and looking at his tablet. His son, Adrien sat next to him, looking gloomy as he ate his breakfast in silence. 

It was of your private opinion that Gabriel was to harsh and cold with his son. You knew why that was, as well. You were privy to all of your masters' secrets, because you could not tell anyone. You wouldn't have dared out of fear. 

"I'm going off to school." Adrien announced, standing up, "Bye father. Bye Y/N." 

"Bye Adrien." You whispered as softly as you could while still being loud enough for Adrien to hear you. You gave him the smallest of smiles, before moving forward to take his plate, and take it back to the kitchen. 

When you came back, you found that Gabriel was done as well and moved forwards to take his dishes. His hand wrapped around your wrist and you stopped what you were doing, your heart pumping harder in your chest. 

"Kneel." Was all he said. 

You kneeled, moving in front of him under the table. He tapped his thigh and you rested your head there, relaxing just a little bit. You wondered how things were going to go today. He had been very unusual with you the past week or so. 

The relationship had started off with you being an intruder in his house. On a college dare- while slightly tipsy- you had broken into the house while your friends had waited nearby. You had accidentally found the secret passage under the house and had discovered Gabriel's' secrets of his wife in the glass coffin and him being Hawkmoth. 

You had tried fleeing, but Gabriel had trapped you in the elevator and had forced you to text your friends to tell them that you had been caught and that they needed to leave. Then Gabriel had kept you prisoner. 

At first, he thought you were Ladybug, but after Ladybug and Cat Noir had being seen on the news only a few hours later, that notion was gone. 

He wouldn't let you go, but had instead decided that you would be kept here as a slave. He still paid you, but you had to do everything and anything he asked for. He also agreed to let you continue your college online. 

So, now you'd been with him for almost an entire year, the entire time playing maid and sex slave, whatever Gabriel fancied that day. 

But, within the last month, his demeanor had started varying just in the slightest of degrees. Being a little softer with you, seeming to want to touch or hold you in more intimate ways than sexual, and was even letting you leave the house when you wanted with the sworn promise that you wouldn't tell anyone what you had seen. 

You could have fled. Left the country, but you never did. You always returned because. . . well because you had fallen for him. You hated that you had. You knew that any psychologist would simply call it Stockholm syndrome, but you didn't care. 

You looked up at him now. His jaw line was smooth, but rugged. His blond white hair was smoothed back, tucked around his ears. His glasses were pushed up high on his nose as he looked at his iPad with concentration. 

He didn't like you back, you knew that much. It was going to hurt when he got his wife back and kicked you out. You closed your eyes, keeping your head still at his knee, settling in for the long haul. 

●○●○●○●○●○●

It was two hours before Gabriel told you to move. You hadn't moved once and your entire body was stiff. You stifled a groan as you got to your feet, catching yourself on the table as your legs nearly gave out. To your surprise you felt two hands on your waist, helping you steady yourself. 

"Easy." Gabriel murmured, letting go of you. 

You were easily flushed, but kept your eyes down and murmured, "Thank you master." 

Gabriel made a noise in the back of his throat, before heading off to his office. You finished cleaning the breakfast room, before doing the dishes. Just as you had finished putting the last plates in the tallest cupboard, Gabriel came into the room. 

"Come here." Gabriel demanded. "I need you for a moment." 

You followed him without a word as he led you back to his office. This was where he did most of his work for the designing clothes company. It was also where the secret passage was located. 

In the room was a beautiful green dress that you had never seen before. It was a dark forest green and it looked as though it was made of velvet. The skirt of the dress was puffed out and you thought their might be a wire that ran around the bottom to give it that shape. It had a flat peter pan collar with simple white buttons going down the dress. 

"Do you like it Y/N?" Gabriel asked, taking note of your attention. 

"It is very beautiful master." You murmured. You hesitated and then added, "Is it made of velvet?" 

"Indeed." Gabriel said and you couldn't help but feel pleased at the note of pleasured surprise in his voice. "And silk on the inside of the skirt." 

You smiled then. 

"I would like you to try it on." Gabriel said. 

"Oh?" You said in surprise. "I- Of course, master. But, I do not want to ruin it. How. . ." 

"Undress." Gabriel said simply. 

You quickly pulled the apron off around your waist, placing it on the table next to you. You kicked off your shoes, put Gabriel said, "Leave the stockings on." Your hands faltered and then you reached behind you, attempting to get the zipper for the maid uniform. 

Then larger hands than yours were pushing your smaller ones aside, pulling the zipper down. Gabriel kissed the side of your neck, nipping at the skin, before pulling away again. 

Your breathing was a little uneven as you let the uniform fall do your feet, bending over, picking it up, and putting on the table with everything else. Then you released the bra, putting that on the table as well. 

"Arms up." Gabriel demanded. 

You put them up, closing your eyes as you felt the silk slip over your head. You slowly helped maneuver your body into the dress, before he was zipping the dress up behind you. Then, you opened your eyes and saw yourself in the mirror. 

"Oh." You whispered in surprise again. You looked beautiful, which was not something you thought a lot of the time. 

"Parfaite," Gabriel murmured so quietly behind you, that you wouldn't have heard him except he'd murmured it into your ear.  [Perfect]

"Oh." You murmured again, turning bright red in the mirror. The French man stood behind you, gazing at the two of you in the mirror. 

He smirked then, "Oh?" 

"It's been a long time since I've looked so beautiful." You murmured honestly, turning a little in the mirror, smiling. Gabriel suddenly looked displeased. "I- I'm sorry sir- master. I spoke-" 

Gabriel spun you around, your back pressed against the mirror. His thin fingers lifted your chin up, your lips barely an inch apart. "You'll submit, now." 

"Yes master." You whispered, lips brushing against his as you spoke. 

He pressed his lips to yours and your eyes closed. But he was pulling away. "Knees." 

You lowered yourself to your knees, finding he had already unbuttoned his slacks. You stroked his hard cock and then his hand was on the back of your head. "Open." 

You resisted from rubbing your thighs together from your aroused state as he ordered you around, sinking into the  mindset of a sexual slave. Your mouth fell open and your tongue came out, licking the tip of his prick, before he was holding your head still, thrusting his own hips, fucking your mouth. 

You let him use you as he pleased, while trying your best to continue licking him with your tongue. He hadn't given you an order of what to do with your hands, so for now, you kept them behind your back, fingers laced together. You stared up at him through your lashes, seeing the look of immense pleasure on his face. 

You knew he was getting closer as with every next thrust, you could taste him more and more, drips of sticky cum landing on your tongue. But then, to your surprise, he was pulling away, leaving you there on your knees. 

He walked over to the table in the middle of the room, sweeping the tablecloth across the entire thing. It settled neatly, like a well designed animation in an anime- like Black Butler or something. 

"Come here pet." Gabriel demanded. 

You got to your feet, hurrying to his side, looking up at him. He took you by surprise, lifting you up, settling you on the table, before pushing you down gently so you laid flat against the surface. 

And then he was fucking you, one hand clutching your hip, the dress pushed up around your thighs, the other gripping your shoulder. Your fingers wanted to delve into his hair, but you knew it was forbidden, so they clutched the red cloth underneath them instead. 

You wanted to curse as his hand moved to grip your throat tightly, the pleasure in your stomach only increasing. 

"Master." You whimpered out. 

"Look," Gabriel hissed, putting pressure on your throat so that you were forced to turn your head and you saw the mirror off to the side. "You are always beautiful. Watch yourself as I take you apart. You may be my slave, I may own you, but you have unaltered beauty my girl." 

You whimpered, fingers tensing around the cloth more. You were going to lose control any second as his fingers lightly trailed down your body, caressing your hips, teasing your nipples, slipping down your stomach, dancing across your clit. 

"I am a man of beauty." Gabriel continued, looking down at you with a severe expression on his face. He was still fully dressed, you realized, his slacks only pulled down enough to fuck you. He was still wearing his white suit jacket and red tie. His glasses slipping down the end of his nose as his movements made them jerk inch by inch. 

His hands tightened on your body, another hard thrust accompanied by his words. "And I would never own anything that has no beauty." His hand slid up, grabbing you by the throat, forcing you to look into his cold eyes. "You are beautiful." 

Your heart fluttered and then you cried out, squeezing your eyes shut, releasing on his cock. Your body seemed to go numb for a moment, before you opened your eyes again. He had stilled, finishing inside of you which he never did, but you supposed it was because you were wearing the dress. He couldn't exactly finish on you. 

Gabriel breathed deeply, pulling out of you and moved against so that he was resting his chin on his arms near your face. "What are you?" 

There were several answers that made their way to your tongue. 'Yours' 'nothing' 'a slave' 'a slut' but you were certain that you knew which one he wanted to hear. "B-beautiful?" 

"Now with more confidence." Gabriel murmured, stroking your hair like you were a cat. 

"Beautiful." You said softly. 

"Good girl." Gabriel said, sitting back and moving away. He'd already pulled his dress pants back up, his belt running through the loops. You continued to lay on the table, not sure if he wanted you to move or not. 

He stepped back up behind his computer screen and then said, "You're dismissed. Clean yourself up before my son gets home from school." 

"Yes master." You murmured, feeling almost disappointed when you got up from the table. You weren't sure why you thought something had changed. But it was your fault for letting your imagination run wild. You were still a slave and nothing more. 

"Um master." You murmured softly as you reached the door. "I just realize. . . I need help out of the dress. Will you please unzip it so I can get out of it?" 

Gabriel moved silently across the room, undoing the zipper. 

"Thank you master, I'll bring it right back after my bath." You said softly, opening the door. 

"No need." Gabriel said, already moving away to his stand. 

"Pardon master?" You asked, turning to look at him. Your heart thudded painfully in your chest. Why did he no longer want the dress? 

Gabriel didn't look up from his screen as he said, "It was never for display or the Paris fashion show. I made it solely for you. I'm hoping you'll wear this on Saturdays and Sundays from now on. If it so pleases you." 

You were stunned, speechless for a moment and more confused than ever. "Y-yes of course master. Thank you master." 

You backed out of the room, closing the door softly behind yourself, heading up to the bath quickly. You put the dress neatly on your bed and then drew a quick bath to clean yourself. You would have to hurry down to the kitchen and prepare supper before Adrian got home. 

But as you sat there in the bath, your mind wandered from thoughts of food to Gabriel. And what his emotions were towards you. 

He was truly, a complicated man. 

●○●○●○●○●○●

Ew gross I hate this ending. Help!

If I were to do a Slave/Master again, what would you recommend doing or what would you want to see? (Even with a different character perhaps)