#there’s a version where I did add some color but I didn’t like it as much lol

[quibbs126]

And now here’s my 3rd attempt, mostly from yesterday with me finishing up the last one just now

We’re also back to just D-16 now

So I started out trying to do the painting thing again, trying to use darker shading colors since I was told that was a thing to fix. But I didn’t entirely vibe with how the thing was going

Then I finally figured out what @23456df was trying to say on my last post, about volume. Or at least, what I think they were trying to say. Namely about 3D shapes and the fact that I didn’t really have any

So I decided to try a new way of making the characters, namely starting with bases of rectangular prisms. Here’s other versions of the canvas where the shapes are visible

The shape sketches I think are fine, but the struggle for me came from trying to add in the details

I didn’t even try with a proper face on him, because the face was always what ruined it the first time. I realize I have to figure it out at some point, but I don’t know how yet. But the faces I did draw are on a separate layer, so I can replace them if I ever do figure it out

I also need to properly figure out how the shoulder things on D work, because I have absolutely no clue. I also don’t know how the forearm plate works either, as you can see by the fact that it keeps changing

*sigh* this is why I want figures, I tell you

I think I’m getting relatively good at drawing D-16 though. Not sure if these skills will apply to other characters or even Megatron though

I did actually draw Megatron yesterday while at work, but it was on a cardboard sheet that I don’t have with me at the moment. Also the proportions on that sheet are off, but fair enough, I don’t have easy editing or my reference image on traditional, also this is the most I’ve used it in years. But the Megatron didn’t look half bad though

Anyways I don’t remember if I have anything else to add. I’m writing this post in Latin class

All I know is I’m getting there, slowly but surely. But don’t expect a new one by tomorrow or anything, I don’t think I’ll feel like drawing more today, plus I have things to do

[the-last-quest]

Day 15 Frost! ❄️

[bunicate]

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི ₊˚ 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒅𝒚 𝒃𝒊𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕. itto x fem reader already burdened by your small chest, a rumor you happen to overhear makes you reluctantly ask your dear older brother for a helping hand.

warnings ꒱ྀི incest. reader has smaller breasts. tit sucking + minor worship ﾉ wc ꒱ 2k ﾉ 18+ ﾉ I wanted to write a haithy and wrio version as well but da wordz were not coming. can’t believe im writing for dis silly oni omg . . but enjoy pls <3

“don't be so crude, you idiot.”

it doesn’t take much to discern the confusion from his expression. itto had a range of maybe three emotions.

other than his overwhelming display of pride and exuberance, there’s always room for his dumbfoundedness. he’s frequently addled— his face constantly knitted together while his mind searches endlessly to find the answer, at least the one he thinks you want to hear, but he never really does.

“what ? you said you wanted me to help, right ?” he shrugs.

you narrow your eyes.

“I know what I said but you didn’t have to word it like . . . like that .”

like some animal, you want to say but instead you look at your brother in distaste.

too many times you find yourself struggling to accept the gap in your relationship. most people often make the wrong assumption of you being the older sibling and you have to begrudgingly correct them that no, you are in fact the younger and smarter sibling.

why couldn’t he tell that you’re already embarrassed enough as it is ? why do you have to spell it out and add to the duration of your suffering. by now, your cheeks are practically inflamed.

“how else do I ask ? oh , should I add the please ?” he pauses.

“show me your tits, please.”

he offers you a dopey smile of triumph. he’s proud of himself, thinking for once he’s finally appeased you, but he couldn’t be more wrong. so so wrong.

you’re aggressive with your sigh.

you were too smart to ask him of all people. you’re way too intelligent to believe in silly rumors and baseless gossip, but they tangle in the mire of your thoughts.

“if someone sucks on your breasts, they’ll grow !”

“huh ? no way. where did you hear that ?”

it was two women in passing, just talking and having a laugh and yet you can’t stop yourself from just wondering.

you’re not blessed like your brother. the oni towers over you, well over six feet. a mantle of bulging arms, broad shoulders, and thick thighs. he’s as big and intimidating as it gets but that aura quickly dispels every time he opens his mouth.

you on the other hand are thicker in other places, your chest, however . . . not so much.

you look down pathetically and think about all the colored tube tops that just didn’t fit you quite right.

what did you have to lose ? you’re pride maybe. you’re just as prideful as your brother, maybe even more, but the soft slopes of fat poking through your shirt mock you. they remind you that maybe you can afford to throw your ego away. temporarily.

you whine as your patience wears you thin.

murmuring a quick prayer to archons to have them spare you from further embarrassment, you bury your doubts in the back of your mind.

“I hate you.”

you lift your shirt quickly, just ripping the bandaid off.

you expose your breasts to the cool air and to surprised vermillion hues.

the longer he stared, the more you wanted to hide. of all the array of emotions you’ve seen, ( three ) you can’t pinpoint this exact one. it’s new to you. it borders on unbridled warmth, but then after a few seconds of your nipples perking from his gaze, it dithers. . . and then he fucking squints.

“so small.”

there’s a beat of silence and it takes that brief moment to even register that you did not mishear him. you’re not sure what you expected.

itto certainly isn’t the brightest and his emotional intelligence is nearly non-existent, and still, you’re taken aback by his talent to be consistently unaware.

you feel awkward and vulnerable in the middle of the room. you bared yourself to him, your insecurity right to his face, and the only thing he could do was confirm that you are indeed a small-chested oni. it shouldn’t bother you, but it does.

you liked to think you could handle the truth just as much as you bluntly dished it out, but this time you couldn’t.

a flash of white-hot anger runs through you at his audacity. you yank your shirt down eager to hide in your room and cry about your humiliation. you’ll write his name in big stupid letters in your fuzzy-covered journal and call him a big fat meanie. i for idiot, t for trashy , t for terrible, and a big fat o for obtuse.

“asshole !” you scream.

you can tell he’s surprised by your outcry. you glare at him hoping that he would turn to ashes on the spot, but unfortunately, he doesn’t.

he’s too busy panicking. he’s struck with the startling realization that he’s messed up again and that you were pissed.

so many times you’ve stomped your pink heels in anger and strutted away, mini skirt riding up with every step you took. and each time he reacts the same.

he tries to fix it.

he’s quick to react, immediately reaching for you in urgency. “w-wait wait wait wait ! where ya’ going ?”

“ oh, don’t you dare touch me you, oaf ! you think I don’t know that they’re small already ? why would you say that ?! “ you pull away more than desperate to increase the distance from him.

“hey hey hey. calm down, baby sis. m’not making fun of you.”

it takes his hands resting on your shoulders and the worried look in his eyes to make you come to a stop.

you lick your lips and take a shaky breath.

he’s right.

itto is many things but never a bully. he’d never say anything purposefully mean, no matter how much you bad-talked him. he’s kind and loyal but unfortunately, all the brains just happen to go to you .

“I didn’t mean to make ya feel bad,” he says sheepishly. “jus’ think they’re cute, that’s all.”

he releases his grip on you to scratch behind his head, eyes flickering to your chest again. a blush colors his face to a shade of carnations.

you’re a sweet girl with an unfiltered mouth that would bend to no one, not even to the archons themselves. and you were tearing him apart with that pout and your pretty nubs peeking through the fabric of your shirt.

he’s your big brother and he angered you quite a lot but, never deliberately. but this time he’s determined, for once he wants to ease your worries and not add to them.

he stands a bit closer brushing away a saltine tear that regretfully falls.

“If ya still want me to do it, I will. I think . . . it could work if I just do it hard enough.”

you don’t answer him but you don’t think you need to.

he searches your eyes trying to find any sign of disapproval. itto remains unsure, he’s never good at picking up on the small nuances of your emotions and so he tugs at your shirt in uncertainty.

still angry and embarrassed, you look up at his stupidly handsome face and relent.

“jus’ do it you big dummy.”

like everything else you expect him to handle you roughly. to rip your shirt and bite and suck at your nipples until they bruise under his touch, but he does the opposite.

his free hand travels around your sternum at first, surprisingly gentle. his fingers are soft when they circle around your breasts, tenderly flicking the flesh to watch them jiggle. he thumbs at your wide areolas, tracing the tiny bumps in complete fascination.

you grow uncomfortable at how intimate it felt. his eyes are blown wide, drinking up the sight of your tits rising with each shuddered breath.

“d-don’t play with them. jus’ hurry up n’ suck .” you leap at the opportunity to break the tension, but somehow you’ve made it worse.

as soon as the words leave your mouth, he responds just as fast. it nearly knocks the wind out of you when his mouth latches onto your breast.

they’re small but there’s so much flesh , so much chub that itto can’t stop playing with. his tongue laps at your left mound, licking underneath it, licking around it, and sucking at all the fat he can fit into his mouth. he’s noisy, grossly so . he groans and curses each time he has to detach his mouth from your nipple to come up for air.

“pretty tits taste s’good, “ he slurs. he can’t form the words, not when he’s desperate to fondle your breasts with his slippery tongue.

itto squeezes you so tight, it nearly hurts but you couldn’t dare tell him to ease up. there’s something hard rubbing on your lower stomach and you're scared to even dare to think about what it could be.

he slowly drags his rough flesh up and down your mound, shivering when your nipple grazes his appendage. his fingers grope at your waist and hips, palms nearly enclosing your smaller figure.

“f-fuck , you’re tiny. m’not hurting you, am I ?”

you don’t trust yourself to speak, terrified a moan would spill instead, so you shake your head.

he’s over two feet taller than you, pressing you into a corner and he has to remind himself that you’re his little sister. his dainty, spit-fire little sister who’s tits he’s currently mouthing on to rid her of her troubles.

he’d suck long and hard hoping your already perfect tits would someday be perfect to you. he wants to make you proud and show you he’s not just some rowdy oni. he’ll kiss and suck as long as you needed him to.

he tucks your nipple back into his mouth, puckering around the flesh like a sour candy.

you’re as pillowy and as delicate as he remembers. he almost forgot how he sinks into you. how his firm stomach settles into your soft one and he’s painfully reminded that his erect cock has been slowly rutting against you.

sucking your tits was riling him up. it was making him act in that brutish way that you hated, but he was trying so hard to keep from lining his cock with your opening and milking your cunt dry.

the oni has to pull away to gather himself. he takes the time to marvel at his work.

your right bosom is drenched in spit, puffy and swollen from his ministrations. he smiles.

“It looks bigger already, don’t ya think ?“

“shut it !”

another insult dies in your mouth as you're still catching your breath. an oni’s nose is extremely sensitive and you wonder if he could smell the arousal fermenting between your thighs.

“let me do the other one okay, baby. don’t want them to be uneven right ?”

“w-wait itto maybe we should s— eek !”

you need another moment of reprieve but you don’t get the chance. he puts the other tit in his mouth, tongue greedily flicking against the nub which tears a squeal from your lips.

itto is confident his methods will work just as sure as he’s about to blow a load in his pants.

“gonna suck your tits until they fatten up. isn’t that right, little one ?”

you mewl at the pleasure and the softness of which he utters a name he hasn’t called you in years.

“s-stop talking so much ! just be quiet and and —hnnn— stop teasin’ !”

he continues his assault on your chest, cock chubbing against his pants.

“m’sorry,” he slurs. “can’t help it.” his groans are fanning against your chest while he drools on your sensitive peaks. “let nii-nii take care of you . . just relax f’me. . . just take it.”

he’s hard. cums crowns his tip as he keeps conjuring up thoughts of wiping his cock over your tits, rubbing the head around your puffy brown nipple.

you smell good, you taste better and itto for once doesn’t care if you think he’s gross. he wants to milk your tits and suck until they become sweet little prunes , just so he can make it better.

your panties grow sticky as his sucks grow rougher. even if your breasts didn’t jump up a cup size you think that maybe this was worth it. to have him close, to have him drool and worship your tits and feel his cock straining against you.

his eyes closed, still nursing on your teat sweetly. your hand buries itself in his thick mane that draped over his shoulder smelling faintly of your shampoo.

it silently encourages him to keep going, leading to both of your undoings. the hand running through his hair tugs on his roots but then suddenly stills.

you see a brief flash of something and you gasp.

“itto why on earth is your dick out ?”

“can I put just the tip in ? please?”

[writinandcrying]

TMNT HEADCANON / how the turtles text

A lot can be said from how someone express themselves through texting, so this is just some crack / light headcanons !

Not really based on a single version per say, more that turtles have been deprived of social interaction for the majority of their life and I think texting them would be an very interesting experience lol

Idea based on @avery73 last random turtle post (thanks for being one of our strongest soldiers and writing wonderful pieces 🫡) English is not my first language and I didn’t proofread this, if there is any grammatical erros pls don’t hesitate to tell me!

Mikey

🎢 Single texts

🎢 Just like this

🎢 Loads of it

🎢 You got 60 new messages

🎢 in the past 2 minutes

🎢 Loads of gifs too

🎢 And voice memos

🎢Oh look

🎢6 personality tests links

🎢What do you mean you won’t do it

🎢He needs to know what kind of cupcake you are!!!!

🎢 And music recs

🎢 Your phone won’t stop vibrating

🎢 for the next weeks

🎢 After you meet him (Honestly really annoying unless you have a crush on him)

🎢 For the latinos/latinas; if he EVER finds out about WhatsApp and the stickers. Oh you are so done. If you have an older phone that shit WILL blow up / malfunction for SURE

🎢 uses TONS OF EMOJIS !!!!! 😍😍😝🤪😋🤩AND CAPS AS WELL!!! 🥳😽✌️👅🗣️

🎢Mikey live reaction when you ask if he’s upset that you asked him to tone it down a notch with the texting on a busy day:

🎢 Will lowkey tone it down with the emojis when he finds out some ppl find it cringe, but with his angels cakes ???????? 🫵 YOU BET 🗣️ HE WILL SHOW YOU WITH IT 💋🫦💅🏻🤳🏼💃🏻🕺🏽🙈🦋🌺🧡🌚🌻🔥💥🌟

🎢Will accidentally send you some random ass emoji that wasn’t supposed to be on the context of the text, also the autocorrect is def not his friend

Mikey : how’s it going baby gorila

Mikey: babygirl*

Mikey:

Mikey: I’m sorry

🎢 adds emojis to very contacts in his t-phone:

Leo: Leader of the pack 🐺 🐢 🫡

Donnie: Eistein 📚🧬⚗️ (Raph also shares this name on his t-cell)

Raph: Murderous teddy bear 🧸 🧨

Splinter: Mafia Boss 🪤 (no one knows about this name tho)

April: Chanel N.6 🎤(or World of Apes 🦧 lmao)

Casey: New York Hockey League 🏒

Vern: Some dude (adds 🦅 so he knows it’s Vern and not “some random dude”)

Y/n: angelcakes pookie wookie baby boo boo love of my life !!!!!! 😍🥰👀🧚🏻‍♂️

🎢Mikey live reaction when Raph yells at him to stop flooding the chat, followed by mikey texting him “make me” (they are sitting next to each other):

Donnie

🔭Huge blocks of it in the speed of light. many topics, many questions and also explanations at just one sitting

🔭But won’t hold back on a smart ass short cut response for one his brothers (literally has the sharpest tongue)

🔭Will hardly uses emojis, only when it’s a single text to express an emotion (most current used emojis: 🤓when he does something impressive 💜: for y/n 🙄: when venting about something annoying Leo / Mikey / Raph did)

🔭Will want to discuss random ass problems he has encountered in his projects, in forums online, specially if you ever show interest in debating / doesnt hold back into showing your strong opinions

🔭 Has named their brothers as “Failed Lab Experiments” and managed to color code their messages (has the only t-phone that has this feature)

🔭Donnie creating the most unique and smartass way to charge his phone just cuz he can:

🔭Deadass his reaction when texting his crush 👀:

🔭 Has modified Mikey’s phone so he doesn’t have access to emojis for a whole week after his baby brother decided to spam him “out of no where” (after Donnie won consecutively 10 Mario Kart matches AND ate the last 2 slices of cold pizza)

🔭Result: mikey spammed EVEN MORE and only spoke to EVERYONE by Japanese emojis. Leo and Raph begged demanded that donnie install his emojis back cuz they were DONE with the whole situation

Failed lab experiment N.4: ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ" °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖° (♡´౪`♡)

Failed lab experiment N.1: Stop.

Failed lab experiment N.4: ┬┴┬┴┤ᵒᵏ (･_├┬┴┬┴ Failed lab experiment N.4: (;﹏;)

Failed lab experiment N.2: You stupid IDIOT Failed lab experiment N.2: look what you've done now he’s sad

🔭 Donnie also has to deal with his brothers thinking he is their personal Google (he will always answer their questions, even out of spite):

Failed lab experiment N.4: Donnie what’s a Cochlear implant

Successful lab experiment: A small, complex electronic device that can help to provide a sense of sound to a person who is profoundly deaf or severely hard-of-hearing. The implant consists of an external portion that sits behind the ear and a second portion that is surgically placed under the skin.

Failed lab experiment N.4: :0 yikes

Failed lab experiment N.4: Okay thanks!!!!

Successful lab experiment: Stop asking me stuff when you can just Google it.

Failed lab experiment N.4: But I like talking to you 🙀😔

Failed lab experiment N.4: You are my favorite turtle Siri!!! 😉

Successful lab experiment: I’d prefer if I wasn’t... Also, why are you curious about cochlear implants?

Successful lab experiment: Mikey?

Successful lab experiment: Mikey!!!!!

(He still doesn’t know why)

Raph

🥊 Barely uses emojis. Lowkey barely texts? doesn't see the appeal to it, rather prefer to hang out with you 1 on 1 than being far away from you (will never ever admit to it. maybe after 3 years in a relationship)

🥊as a friend: he wont be the one spiking a conversation, but might keep going if he's truly bored (this is prone to happen during daylight / evening when they still can't go out) but will probably be the one to ask to hang out when he needs an outlet and such 🥊*sees messages* eh i'll reply later *completely forgets about it*

🥊 will effortlessly take the most breath-taking pictures of new york during patrol and send it to you 🥊 if you are already his s/o / someone he trusts: will most likely text you to ask about stuff (if you need anything or something he needs from topside) or to diss / vent / gossip about his brothers 🥊 will send embarrassing pictures of his brothers to you cuz he can't deal with that shit alone lmao

🥊 will either be pretty clueless with the most random ass stuff or out of propose just to tease you: y/n: jniasunoakpfa raph: what was that y/n: keyboard smash? raph: how do i do that y/n: just press anything raph: 7 🥊 Raph Live reaction as soon as he realizes he has feelings for you:

🥊 Also Raph Live reaction when he comes to terms with this feelings and has an excuse to ignore Leo (even if he doesnt like texting) just bc he can ignore Leo as he pleases:

Leo

🎏 Perfect texts 🎏 looks like an email/letter sometimes 🎏 to most people: 1 message with divided topics. pretty direct 🎏 when he can't reply right away: "Hello. I'm happy you wrote to me. I try to reply promptly but currently I'm not available at the moment-" Like omg bro RELAX. 🎏 to his s/o: 70% direct, the other 30% likes to send little reminders, either with songs or pretty things she has seen during a patrol with a "thinking of you" message. lowkey romantic when he doesn't even mean to be, def shows how thoughtful he is 🎏 prefers to call you rather than texting. especially if you are dating/has a crush on you he might not even realize why he likes calling you so much, until it hits like a brick that he just wants to hear your voice 🎏Leo when he calls you and doesn't know when to "intervene" / his time to talk back (god forbid he's unpolite and interrupts you):

lowkey him listening to April vent about smth dumb shit Casey did /any human friend venting and he doesnt know how to react lmao 🎏Just like Donnie, has favorite emojis and will only use it in specific situations (this will take time for it to happen, like after years Donnie first invented the t-phone and finally relized he didn't had to be so formal when texting): 🐢 when talking about team work or his brothers / 🪷 for meditating or mindfulness (thinks its peaceful) / 💙 for his boo and his boo only / 😏 only in a relationship, especially when he's feeling scipy (extremely rare for it to happen over text tho)

——————————————————————————

Group chat (more than one reaction)

💚 catching social cues irl can be hard, you are telling me there are hidden social cues in texting too??

💚 “Nah shut up” group, doesn’t care much about it and won’t change their ways: Leo, Raph

💚 Will research about it, will talk to every single human he knows (yes. you. Vern. Casey and April) Needs to know the social cues. NOW: lmao try to guess

💚 Also needs to know, but for meme reasons, he has to say up to date w the terminology/ slangs: another hard guess /j

💚 Oh btw, Donnie totally uses /j /Tw /srs terminology WHILE he texts fast AND huge text blocks. none of his brothers know how he does it

💚Will over use fresh lingo he has learned overhearing humans on patrol, shows, from his humans friends to the point it’s almost unbearable: Mikey 💚Live reaction of Raph and Leo trying to understand when Mikey or Donnie spamming the group chat with their extremely recent memes or hyperfixations:

💚the chat WILL be flooded with things related to their favorite basketball teams, show they want to see or dumbass pictures of their daily lifes, example: Mikey: *has sent an selfie*

Mikey: you know y/n

Mikey:If you’re fortunate enough

Mikey: your internal organs will spend their entire lifespan in absolute darkness

Mikey: but mine?

April: oh boy here we go

Mikey: Hasn’t. 😏😏😏

Y/n: Oh?

Mikey: *send another selfie flexing muscles* you see when you fight crime everyday-

Raph: yeah he shallowed a glow stick

[sarafangirlart]

Andromeda’s race/ethnicity and why it’s not inaccurate to interpret her as black/African

Now you’ve seen how I draw my babygirl as Afro Palestinian Egyptian so you know where I personally stand on the subject. However, my interpretation isn’t the only one, ancient authors, from mythographers to historians to poets to playwrights, have proposed various different locations for Andromeda’s homeland, often times contradicting each other, what I’m trying to do here is correct some misinformation as well as argue that even if Andromeda isn’t black/ethiopian, she still wouldn’t be considered white or ethnically European.

I would like to reiterate like I did with my Hephaestus/Aphrodite post that I’m not a mythology or history expert, I just read a lot. So do your own research and come up with your own conclusions.

Let’s go.

The etymology of “Aethiopia”

Aethiopia means "of burned face" which yes is pretty racist be modern standards but basically means that its inhabitants are dark skinned, so even if you go by sources that it isn’t in Africa, the inhabitants still wouldn’t be white or Greek.

Location of the Kingdom

You’d hear the statement that the Aethiopia in mythology is not the same as Ethiopia the modern country, which is true. You’d also hear that it’s a completely fictitious location, that’s only partially true, while Aethiopia existed mainly as a mythological location (mentioned as early as the Iliad) that didn’t stop ancient historians, mythographers and poets from placing it in real locations or calling pre-existing nations Aethiopia. It’s hard to pick which one is more “accurate” bc they all contradict each other, not only that, but these writers didn’t actually visit these locations and ancient ppl weren’t as well versed in geography as we are today so they’d be weirdly vague or confusing about these locations, I mean just look at an ancient map and you’d see what I mean.

So personally, I think you can go with any version you personally prefer, the options are quite limitless, she could be from the Arab peninsula, the Levant, North Africa, Persia, hell maybe even India if you are like Ovid.

Andromeda’s genealogy

(I just realized that these are the Waterson kids color palette while writing this lmaooooooooo)

Yes Andromeda is descended from Zeus (no family tree can escape that man lol) and she’s also the great granddaughter of Poseidon, which adds a whole new layer to the fact he tried to kill her.

Now for a bit of history: The Trojan war (which didn’t happen irl obviously) was dated as taking place in the 12th or 13th century BCE by some ancient writers, that war happens a few generations after Perseus’s story, which means that Egypt was in the New Kingdom era, also called the Egyptian Empire, when Nubians (who would be considered black by today’s standards) were a very important part of society, even becoming Pharaohs. Ancient Egypt was a lot more diverse than modern ppl give it credit for, there were multiple ethnic groups living there. Not to mention that you can’t get more Egyptian than being descended from the god of the Nile River lol

Libya is (obviously) the personification of the region of Libya, not the modern country Libya, but the general area in North Africa west of Egypt. The name Libya comes from the Libu, a berber tribe. So once again, even if Andromeda wasn’t black, even if you interpreted that her kingdom is placed in Asia, she’d still be of African decent.

Cassiopeia is a tricky one, her origins are obscure, she’s called a nymph by Nonnus, while Stephanus of Byzantium (a very late source) states she’s from Ioppa and that the city takes its name from her. However, Ioppa/Jaffa was identified as Andromeda’s home much earlier in Periplus attributed to Scylax, which was composed in the late fourth century bc.

Conclusion

You can make Andromeda black it’s ok. Ancient writers couldn’t agree on her country’s location but we can still speculate. Anyways ummm… I think that’s it? Maybe I’ll add to this if I find or remember more interesting information.

Have a great day.

[digichu]

Anon here!! How did you make the heart graphic for the power rentry?

hi!! i’ll put it under the cut since there’s quite a few steps. lmk if you need a more specific tutorial or images for any of the steps!!

1) finding the base

find the shaping mask you wanna use. you can look up “shaping mask png” or “mask png” on pinterest to find some. this is the one i used:

2) removing the background

to remove the background, use the selection layer in ibis paint x. to find this layer, go to the layers panel and it should be the one all the way at the top. it is titled “selection layer.” to remove the white background, select the bucket tool and select the white background. it should turn blue. then switch from the selection layer to the layer you’re removing the background from. look at the top middle of the screen. there should be a square composed of dotted lines that looks like this:

click on it and select “cut.” this will remove the white background. click on it again and select “remove selection area.” now you’re ready to continue!

3) creating a cleaner base layer

you might want to do this if you plan to add a stroke, as once the background is removed from the mask, it tends to leave some remnants behind. this makes the stroke look choppy and pixelated. to do this, take the paint bucket tool on a new, blank layer, and fill in the black part of the base with black. then, delete the base layer underneath the new layer. the hearts will become transparent (to see this better, change the canvas from white to transparent in the layer menu) and the base will hold its shape. you can also remove the hearts in the previous step, but this tackles two birds with one stone and (in my opinion) looks cleaner.

4) filtering manga panels

to make the manga panels pink, i looked up “pink manga polarr code.” pretty much any one will do, but this is the one i used:

for the rest of this step, you’ll need the app polarr. once you get the app, go to the edit section of the menu on the bottom. click “open photos” and insert the manga panels you wish to change the colors of. then, click “filters” and “import filter.” from there, click “import qr code” and click on the filter in your gallery. the filter will go into polarr, and you can just click instant export or you can save it and then export it. it’s up to you.

5) masking the panels

import the images you just filtered into your canvas. now we’ll use a clipping layer to have them take the shape of the base. click on the image layer you want to do this with, and then hit the clipping option in the layer menu. this will have it take the shape of the base.

6) coloring the hearts

now we’ll add a new blank layer atop the clipping layers. i color picked the pink color from the image, and then used the bucket tool to fill in each of the hearts.

7) adding the extra pngs

for this step i used the sticker option in picsart and a transparent canvas to collect the pngs. i believe i looked up “pink png” in the search bar, but i’m not sure. then i imported them into the ibis paint x project and positioned them where i wanted them to go. download transparent pngs of the project (one of each image you added). toggle the eyes on and off so that you can save the different versions (not individual layers. i just mean if you added two manga panels, make sure you get one with one manga panel and one with the other).

8) creating the gif

search up ezgif animated gif maker. it should be the first option that comes up. for this, i typically switch to “manually ordered upload” opposed to “alphabetically ordered opload” (the default) so i have more control over the order of the images in the gif. once you upload them into the site and you get to the editing menu, set the delay time to 100 and click the box that says crossfade frames.

andddd you’re done!!! i hope this was somewhat comprehensible and i didn’t miss any steps xD

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Superstar (Roy's Version)

I couldn't help myself. I love this man too too much! Here's what Roy experienced during the Reader's first few weeks at Nelson Road.

Roy Kent x Reader

3.2k words

Warnings: Language, Roy being lovesick & slightly stalkerish in a rom-com way

The Superstar Series

~

“D’we really need a fucking assistant?” Roy asked again, staring at Ted incredulously, thinking, for the millionth time, that the gaffer was the nuttiest man he’d ever met.

Ted shrugged, far too used to Roy to point out that Roy’d asked him this three times in the past week. “Sure. Someone to help keep track of our schedules, emails, lots of stuff. That way we can focus on the beautiful game.”

To Roy’s surprise, Beard spoke up. “We had a student assistant back at Wichita. The kid was indispensable, always thinking of things we didn’t even realize would be useful.” He shrugged. “You’d be surprised.”

“Whatever.” Roy rolled his eyes and returned to his own office- the one he’d have to ­share now- and continued adjusting on the play he was working on in his black notebook. He knew he was more annoyed at adding someone new to the mix than he was about whether they needed extra help. He’d just gotten used to the Americans, just allowed himself to somewhat enjoy his after-work time with Jamie, and now Ted expected him to be okay with welcoming someone new into the office.

Wanker.

“Hope ya don’t mind sharing!” Ted’s voice slammed against Roy’s ears as the coach entered the office.

A lump formed in Roy’s throat as he glanced up. He should have asked more questions about this whole assistant thing so he could prepare himself. He’d been expecting some young, nervous guy like Will to be joining the staff; not this gorgeous woman standing in front of him, your wide eyes and slight flush only adding to your beauty.

Ted prattled on, oblivious to the sound of Roy’s heart slamming against his chest. “I’m sure you know this ray of sunshine here is Roy Kent.”

Ignoring the stupid butterflies that were forming in his stomach, Roy scowled and stuck his hand out. “You’re the assistant then?”

Your fingertips twitched as you connected your hand to his. “I-I am.”

Nope. Nope. He couldn’t do this. He needed to get the fuck out of here before he said something stupid or did something idiotic.

Roy pulled his hand back, wondering if you’d been able to feel his racing pulse. “Well, as long as you keep your shit off my desk and don’t wear any rancid perfume, we should be fucking fine.” Hating himself for being, well, Roy, he stood up, snatched the notebook off his desk, and trudged off, careful not to nudge you as he rushed past.

He didn’t stop until he was far down the hallway, away from those wide eyes, where he could lean against the wall and take some deep breaths.

Roy Kent was fucked.

~

He’d tried to put you out of his head the rest of the day. Tried to focus on training. Tried to focus on the plays he was meant to show Ted later in the week. Tried to focus on his drive over to the school to pick up Phoebe. Tried to focus on whatever the kid was yammering about. Tried to focus on the games they played while they waited for his sister to come pick her up. Tried to focus on the takeaway his sister had brought over so they could all eat together in Roy’s kitchen.

Brilliant as she was, his sister noticed. “What’s up with you?” she asked, eyebrow raised suspiciously.

He grunted and poked at his food. “Work shit,” he mumbled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Phoebe add a new tally mark in her notebook. “Lasso decided we need an assistant to keep us organized and shit, so now I get to share my office.”

“Hmm.” A smirk played on his sister’s lips. “Don’t like him already? Poor fella.”

“Her,” Roy corrected without thinking. Fuck, he wished his sister had brought something spicy for dinner; that would have been a good explanation for the pink coloring he was sure his cheeks had now.

His sister’s eyes lit up. “Ah.” As if that explained everything. “She’s pretty then?”

Roy narrowed his eyes at his sister, unable to hide the small smile on his face. “Shut up,” he growled softly.

Her smile grew. “Oh man, she must be gorgeous. You’re so screwed.”

~

For two weeks, Roy avoided you- an impressive feat, considering you worked just across the tiny office. But the more he watched you, the stupider he felt.

You were hardworking. And kind. And funny. And fuck, the more he stared, the more he noticed little things about you that just worked to enhance your attractiveness. He should have known he’d snap eventually.

“D’you like kebabs?”

The words just came out. Despite the embarrassing amount of time he’d spent acting like a teenager, imagining the different conversations he’d initiate with you, it all went out the window at lunchtime. Instead, he blurted out the stupidest question he’d ever heard.

His pulse quickened when you paused your work and turned around. “Excuse me?”

Fuck. Even you thought he was an idiot.

You’re Roy fucking Kent. Act like it. He let out a heaving sigh as he turned his chair around, desperate to come across as uninterested and not the pining prick he felt himself becoming. “Kebabs,” he repeated slowly. “D’you like ’em?”

“Uh, I guess.” Even with your face crinkled in confusion, he still felt like he was going to have a heart attack every time he looked at you.

Not that he could let you know. “You guess?” he repeated, trying to hold back laughter at your adorably puzzled expression. “You either fuckin’ like them or you don’t.”

“Fine, fine, I like kebabs.”

He could see the smile in your eyes, even if it didn’t reach the rest of your face. He loved it. It was enough to get him on his feet. “Okay.”

Before Roy knew it, he was walking through the halls of Nelson Road, hanging onto a takeaway bag like it was a lifesaver. He’d never brought anyone lunch before. Heck, he’d never brought anyone anything before. But here he was, suddenly turned into your personal fucking delivery service.

When he walked into the office, you were again bent over your laptop, not looking up at the sound of his footsteps. Roy wasn’t surprised though; he’d learned quickly that when you were focused, it was a bit hard to divert you.

He pulled out one of the Styrofoam containers and dropped it onto your desk, wincing at the slam. When you looked up at him, he went into a scowl, hoping you wouldn’t notice the unevenness of his breathing.

“Thanks, Roy.”

Fuck. He loved the way you said his name. After all those years of having it screamed by coaches or chanted by fans, it sounded so soft, so gentle coming out of your mouth. A mouth he really needed to stop staring at.

He quickly averted his eyes to your desk. It was neat, tidy. He paused when he saw a framed photo of you, an older couple, and two teenage boys standing amid large trees.

“That your family?”

Your gaze followed his. “Oh, yeah. My folks and brothers. They live not far from here. We grew up huge Richmond fans.”

Ah. That was why you always looked nervous around him. Your family were fans. Nothing more.

Roy couldn’t resist the next question that tumbled out of his mouth. “What, no pictures of your boyfriend?” He prayed he didn’t sound too interested. “Is he fuickin’ ugly or somethin’?”

He had to be imagining the flush in your cheeks. “No boyfriend. What about you? I don’t see your model of the week on your desk.”

Your cheekiness took him by such surprise that he couldn’t resist a tiny smile. “I’m too fucking old for that shit now.”

 “Uh huh.” You looked like you’d malfunctioned. “I like kebabs.”

That was it. The moment he didn’t know he’d been waiting for his whole life. He felt like a colossal bolt of lightning had fucking punched his heart. With three little words barely squeaked past your lips, Roy Kent was a fucking goner.

~

Ted poked his head into Roy’s office, clutching a manila envelope. His face faltered slightly when he saw your empty desk. “Shoot, she took off early, didn’t she?” Roy grunted in response. “That’s right. She said somethin’ about a birthday dinner.” He sighed, glancing down at the envelope. “Well, I can give this to her on Mon-”

“I can take it to her.”

Roy didn’t know why he said that. He never volunteered to do anything extra, let alone something that would have him running around on a Friday night. But the idea of seeing your face, of getting a glimpse of you before being separated by the weekend he always found himself dreading these days, had made his mouth act without his brain.

Ted stared at him for a moment, his mustache giving a small twitch. “Aw, you really don’t gotta do that Roy. It’s not a big deal, honestly.”

“It’s fine,” Roy grumbled, not quite looking at the man.

Something sparkled in Ted’s eyes; Roy ignored it, the way he ignored most things about Ted. “Alright, well if you insist.” He handed Roy the envelope. “Do you need help pulling up her address? I could even go with you if you want.”

“Fuck no.” His answer was too quick. “I, um, she told me whereabouts she lives. I’ve got it.”

“Hmm.” Ted smiled at Roy, a soft, knowing smile that made Roy’s insides squirm. “Well, if you’re sure you’ve got it.” He waggled his fingers at Roy. “I’m sure you’ll have a great weekend, Roy.”

Roy frowned as Ted left, tailed by Beard, who gave Roy a playful smirk as well. Wankers.

He sighed as he packed up his things into his bag, wondering what the fuck he’d just signed himself up for. As he settled into the front seat of his car, he pulled out his mobile, trying to figure out what to do. He wished he had your number, but he’d never figured out the right way to ask. Maybe he should have asked Ted for help.

As he gazed as the black screen, a small ping filled the silence. He frowned and unlocked the phone; it was a Snapchat from Ted, sharing a photo of his beer with Beard in the background. Just as Roy was about to roll his eyes, he realized something. You were in that group chat. Tapping quickly, he found what he was looking for: your Snapchat location.

Ignoring the fact that he felt like an absolute fucking stalker, he started the car and headed towards the neighborhood on the screen. He zoomed in as much as he could before realizing that he couldn’t pinpoint exactly which house was yours. Fuck.

Alright, fine. He could handle this. Roy parked and grabbed the stupid manila envelope, taking one more look at the map on his phone. His mind wandered to the movie his Yoga group liked to watch together at Christmastime. Yeah, he could do this. If that spindly wanker Hugh Grant could go door to door in search of his dream girl, so could Roy fucking Kent.

He took a deep breath and approached the first door. Just fucking do it. He knocked, steeling himself for the moment you opened the door.

Except it wasn’t you. And neither was the next one. He was about halfway up the street when he started to lose his resolve. If he had to say “Yeah, I’m Roy Kent” one more time, he was going to slam his face into a wall over and over until he passed out.

With a heaving sigh, he approached the next house. He fully expected yet another granny or pimply preteen.

His face burned when he saw you.

Quickly recovering, he pushed his way inside, pretending his mind wasn’t reeling. “We should really put a fucking tracking device on you.”

“Um, not to be rude, but why are you here? At my mum and dad’s house?”

Oh. This wasn’t your house; it was your parents’. Roy couldn’t help but feel slightly disappointed that he didn’t get to see your home. But he couldn’t let you know that.

“Some papers Lasso wanted you to work on if you can this weekend. Said it was important. I dunno, I don’t fucking listen to him when he yammers,” Roy lie, lie, lied.

“Oh. And how-how did you know where I was?” Roy’s heart fluttered when he saw the way you fidgeted as you spoke. Why were you nervous?

Roy acted as if his heart wasn’t aching at the sight of you. “You’re one of those idiots that has their Snapchat locations on. You’re gonna get fucking murdered one of these days y’know.”

The grin you wore could bring a man back from the dead. “And you’re gonna murder me?”

As if you didn’t murder him with that smile every fucking day. “Not today.” He couldn’t help his own smile. “But apparently if I wanted to, you’d be easy as hell to find.”

“I’ll just have to keep being a good officemate then,” you hummed, the teasing tone in your voice sending Roy’s heart into overdrive.

Without thinking, he took a step towards you, his voice rough and uncharacteristically flirty. “You’re doing a fine job so far.”

This was it. He was going to finally make his move. He was Roy fucking Kent, after all. All he had to do was grab you and kiss you.

But instead, he was tackled by a very enthusiastic father and dragged into an admittedly delicious birthday dinner. Although the domestic scene wasn’t one that he typically found himself him, Roy couldn’t help but revel in the opportunity to sit close to you, your arm brushing his far too often to be a coincidence. In the back of his head, he even allowed himself to imagine this as a regular occurrence, having dinner with your family. But he was getting far too ahead of himself.

As dinner transitioned into dessert, you excused yourself to go upstairs to grab something. Roy could have stayed at the table, hanging out with your family, charming your mother, and answering more questions from your brothers, but his stupid giant crush got the better of him. He awkwardly asked for directions to the bathroom and was pointed upstairs.

He took the stairs two at a time, at least as much as his shit knee would let him, trying to figure out what he’d say once he was face to face with you. He wasn’t sure you liked him, but he couldn’t help but hope that he wasn’t too grumpy, too old, too past his prime for a girl like you.

The muttering he heard from an ajar door pointed him in the right direction. He nudged the door open and saw you, on the floor, clearly searching for something. Before he could say anything, he took a look around the room. What he saw made his heart nearly stop.

Holy shit.

Roy Kent had never seen so many photos of himself in one location in his life. This would be a normal girl’s room if it weren’t for all the football posters covering every square inch of wall- most of them featuring his scowling face. He was sure he even saw Sharpie hearts scrawled all over the one in the corner near the window.

This had to mean something, right?

Trying to keep cool, he mumbled, “Ah, this isn’t the fucking loo.”

The panic on your face made Roy melt. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch your mortified face, to tell you that it was cute, that he wished he had a room full of posters of your gorgeous face.

Instead, he closed the door behind him and stepped forward. “Why the fuck are there so many pictures of me in this room?”

You stood up, fidgeting worse than he’d ever seen anyone. “I, uh, I told you. My family’s huge Richmond fans. You’re kind of our favorite player. Hence, my dad’s excitement when he saw you.”

Suddenly feeling bold, probably for the first time since he met you, Roy stuffed his hands in his pockets and took another look at all the posters of himself. “So… does that mean I’m your favorite too?”

His heart fluttered as he watched your blush deepen. “I… I mean… I guess.”

Unable to look at you anymore, lest he grab you and kiss you heatedly, Roy’s gaze fluttered upwards. Now he was sure his heart had stopped.

A room full of posters of him was one thing. A poster of him above your bed? Fuck, that was hot.

“Is that a fucking poster of me above your bed?”

Your squirming figure was never more attractive to him. “Oh, you know, gotta keep the monsters away somehow.”

That caught him off-guard. He couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled past his lips. Fuck, you were funny sometimes. “That’s what I’m good for? Scaring away fucking monsters?”

He felt like an arse for laughing when he saw the humiliation as you covered your face and flopped onto your bed. Your voice sounded so small. “Please don’t tell anyone. This was my room when I used to live here, I was a dumb kid. I swear to God, my flat is normal. A normal adult flat.”

Your panicked babbling was adorable.

Roy sat beside you, trying not to think too hard about the fact that he was on your bed. The bed with a poster of himself right above it, a poster you probably spent all of your teen years staring at before falling asleep.

He was relieved when you looked over at him. He knew he had to say something. “Hey, no need to be fucking embarrassed.” He glanced up at the poster. It was a damn good picture, one from his Chelsea days. “Can’t say I blame you. I was young and hot.”

Your grin was worth the self-deprecating comment. “You’re not that much older now, Kent.”

The implication made him forget how to breathe. “I’m still hot then?” He couldn’t wait for an answer before he leaned in close and cupped your face. “Please say yes,” he heard himself rasp, not caring how desperate he sounded.

He could hardly believe his ears when you whispered, “Yes.”

That was all he needed. He pressed his lips to yours and felt you melt against him. Feeling your body press against his, Roy reminded himself that this was a first kiss, that he should keep things small, sweet, chaste. Hopefully there would be time for other kinds of kissing later.

The giggle you released was the greatest sound he’d ever heard. He smiled, probably a big, stupid smile, and prepared to ask you about maybe going on a date-

“Oi!” The knocking on the door nearly made him jump. “Mum and Dad want to know if you’re snogging Roy Kent in there!”

Roy felt like a bashful teenager as he smiled at you. “Don’t suppose I can tell your brother to fuck off?” he joked.

He liked the laughter he saw in your eyes. “’d rather you didn’t.”

“Well then.” Figuring that this was the end of this particular moment of romance, Roy stood and took your hand to pull you to your feet. “Guess we should go have some fucking cake,” he joked. His gaze lingered on the poster of himself, the one above your bed. “You should bring that thing to work sometime. I can fucking autograph it if you want.”

[shinidamachu]

CHAPTER TEN: Can I Have This Dance?

SUMMARY: “and I’d choose you. In a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.” – Kiersten White. For each chapter, a prompt from the One Hundred Ways to Say I Love You list. WORDS: 1.570 GENRE: fluff FANDOM: Inukag FORMAT: multichapter ALSO FOUND ON: AO3

Kagome was many, many things. That much, Inuyasha knew.

Impossibly kind, of course, was one of them. 

He had heard of kindness before, even held it for a while, back when he didn’t know just how easily it could slip through his fingers. Then he grew to learn he wasn’t worthy of it and figured if he didn’t deserve it, neither did everyone else.

Kagome, however, had different ideas. Her kindness was a miracle thrusted upon a non believer. He dared not to pray for it, mocked the ones who had faith such a thing even existed, but experiencing it firsthand still brought him to his knees at the end of the day. To share her generosity with the world so freely was bold, if a little naive. To share her generosity with the likes of him? It was nothing short of incredible.

Add courageous to the list. Kagome was so, so brave, it surprised and scared him in the very same amount. It was a strange balance between reverent pride and inadequate fright, because she was his to protect and yet not his at all.

She was smart, too. Or at least one might say she was. Inuyasha wouldn’t. A smart girl would have left long ago without thinking twice when he offered the chance. A smart girl wouldn’t keep on coming back. And he could have never, ever blamed her for it.

Gorgeous. There was no denying that she was. Even though, for reasons Inuyasha wasn’t quite ready to explore, he couldn’t help but deny it, especially to himself.

And sure, after a lot of practice — and a whole lot of failure — the girl became a formidable fighter with a bow on her hand and some arrows in her quiver.

Yes, Kagome was many, many things. 

But she wasn’t at all graceful. In fact, Kagome was the type of person to stumble over her own two left feet. On flat surfaces. Constantly.

Then why couldn’t he take his eyes off of her? Why were they so obstinate on following her every fumbling move as she danced — tried to dance — with the villagers in this silly little festival of theirs?

If Inuyasha had it his way, they would never have stopped for that sort of useless distraction, not when they were in the middle of a world changing quest. Staying put did nothing to nudge them towards their goal, nor did it soothe that feeling inside, urging him to keep going, reminding him that he wasn’t allowed to waste time, that the enjoyment of the simplest things caused a false sense of security he couldn’t afford, a happiness he wasn’t permitted.

Besides, bad things always seemed to happen whenever he decided to stay around humans — other than his own — for too long. Still, it was four against one. Again. And Inuyasha had to admit: the prospect of warm, seasoned food wasn’t exactly unappealing.

The village was an explosion of vibrant colors, cheerful sounds and appetizing smells. Inuyasha didn’t know or cared about what there was to celebrate. The plan was short and clear. Eat. Get some rest. Then leave at first light.

That was until Kagome thought it was a good idea to drag Shippo to the direction where the music was coming from.

To Inuyasha’s surprise, not a single nose twitched. Nobody screamed obscenities or ran for the hills. Shippo’s presence was welcomed into the dancing crowd like he was just another person. Like it didn’t matter who he was, what he was.

But Inuyasha remained grounded. 

He had made that mistake once or twice: letting his guard down, thinking it might be different this time around, only to pay the price at the end. 

Although Shippo was a demon, a seemingly inoffensive kid didn’t pose as much of a threat as Inuyasha, with his sharp claws and fangs. The best course of action was to not push his luck and keep a low profile. That way, they could co-exist in relative peace.

Worst case scenario he would get to watch while Kagome danced.

He smirked.

Her unusual clothes made her stand out in an almost comical manner, but Inuyasha had no doubt he’d recognize her anywhere, anytime, even if they didn’t give her away. 

There were flowers all over Kagome’s wild hair, their soft shades contrasting with her dark onyx. She was doing her best to keep up and, ever the fast learner, was struggling considerably less to do so now than at the beginning. Barefoot, Kagome would laugh at any missed steps and fall right back in the rhythm, delighted to merely be there, trying.

It was a sight to behold, the way she inadvertently brightened the entire place, the way she captured the attention of everyone present without even meaning to.

“Enjoying the view, I see.”

“Fuck off,” Inuyasha replied, pushing Miroku’s suggestive face away, promptly returning his gaze to Kagome.

Their eyes locked and she smiled, enthusiastically waving for him to join her. Inuyasha refused the offer with a shake of head that held more politeness than he usually would care to show for anyone else, flattered that she’d even thought to ask.

Kagome rolled her eyes good-naturedly and went back to dancing, knowing him too well to act surprised.

“It’s not chivalrous to deny a dance to a lady.”

“Good ‘cause I ain’t no gentleman.”

“Just dance with her already. You know you want to.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Leave him alone, Monk,” Sango finally chimed in, “he obviously doesn’t have the guts.”

Inuyasha scowled at her, coming dangerously close to taking the bait, but recognized it for what it was in time.

“This isn’t gonna work, ya know?”

“Well, then maybe this will.”

Sango pushed him and suddenly Inuyasha found himself surrounded by swirling villagers. His brain went into overload, desperate to decide what would be less mortifying: slowly retreating and giving Sango the satisfaction of calling him a coward or… dancing.

That’s when Kagome saw him — her contagious smile growing into a full beam — and reached for him. So he opted for what felt right, for what felt natural.

He went to her.

Inuyasha was painfully aware of how stupid he looked. How was it possible to feel more comfortable fighting demons twice his size than following a goddamn choreography?

Against all odds, he persisted, determined to cross the distance between them. Only every time they got close, the steps demanded them to move in opposite directions.

A lot of clapping, swinging and twisting later, Inuyasha was at the verge of giving up when, by some miracle, they got face to face. His excitement lasted all of the two seconds it took for the music to end and the crowd to disperse. They stood there, a tad bit breathless, a tad bit awkward. Inuyasha scratched his head while she blushed, both avoiding eye contact at any costs. Kagome mumbled something about finding Shippo and left him wondering if she was as disappointed as he felt.

Everything went smoothly and uneventfully from there. Miroku and Sango had the decency to keep their mouths shut and the food was, indeed, fantastic. They set camp on the outskirts of the village — there were no huts available, so Miroku didn’t even try to pretend that granting them the Shogun’s quarters was essential to eradicate the supposedly great evil that lurked the area — and bathed on the nearby river, where Inuyasha was headed.

His friends had turned in for the night, but sleep evaded him. Every time he closed his eyes, Kagome was there, dancing like a dream: beautiful and just out of his reach. His mind made a point out of burning the images to memory and replaying them in the sweetest kind of torture.

He was filling Kagome’s canteens with water, figuring it would be wise to use his restlessness to get at least one chore out of the way come morning, when his ears twitched at the unmistakable sound of her approach.

“Inuyasha?”

“Hey! Watcha doin’ up?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Refilling.”

“Is that so?” He didn’t reply, so after a pause she continued, “I had fun earlier.”

“Yeah, I know.” Inuyasha cleared his throat, then confessed, “me too.” Even though I’m not supposed to, he mentally added.

“Can I have this dance?”

That caught him completely off guard. Inuyasha genuinely thought their chance had passed. 

Kagome took the canteen out of his grasp and put it safely on the ground, his heart lapping furiously at the accidental brush the gesture caused. She reached her hand again, the same way she did before, waiting for his answer.

Inuyasha tilted his head.

“There’s no music.”

“I don’t mind, I just… I wanted to dance with you today.”

It was all he needed to hear in order to get up and take her warm hand with his cold, wet one, watching as she ever so gently interlocked their fingers without seeming to care.

They looked at each other, their noses nearly touching until Kagome set the pace, using their connected hands to spin herself away from him only to then step back into his hold, her cheeks now against his chest, her other palm resting on his shoulder. Inuyasha snaked an arm around her waist and they swayed in place under the moonlight.

It was nothing like the gleeful moves from the villagers, but in that stolen moment, Inuyasha swore. 

He could hear music.

A/N.: written for @inuvember and dedicated to @goshinote as a very belated birthday gift. This was heavily inspired by that one scene in Tangled, with a touch of Delena at the end. Hope you guys enjoy.

[lilikitsune18]

Officer it’s this one right here he crashed my drawing program and refused to cooperate

@neodracunyan here’s the criminal the one who broke my drawing program so bad I’m going to have to archive everything and clear its data again and it hasn’t even been 3 months since I last did that for spring cleaning. I love how he came out in the end but he crashed my program 5 times while I was working on him and has caused it to lag and crash constantly ever since. I adore this boi but I will always have hard feelings for his reference sheet. He looks so smug about it too.

Below the cut is my usual ramble as well as the sketches and shape study for this one. (He has taught me many things completely on accident)

So let’s talk about this.

I started by sketching up a kickin that will never see the light of day fate just looking up my reference images and eyeballing it.

That kickin was really really ugly.

I know saying these things about one’s own art can seem degrading and derogatory but believe me when I say I got a second opinion and they agreed that chicken was ugly.

And they didn’t even know I was showing them my own art so I know it’s true.

So then I did the shape study and figured out why this wasn’t working the same as the others.

Then came a lot of trial and error of pushing different combinations of these shapes and builds together until I got a siluette that seemed to work (this was the one I used for the final version of kickin)

Then came the face which was also a matter with which I struggled but eventually figured out.

Despite all of these setbacks I do really like how kickin came out in the end (especially the side profile view) and once all of the struggles were through I really really ended up liking how he came out .

So let’s actually talk about this design now shall we?

Let’s start with the kickin hawk design. This design benefited from the fact that I knew who kickins partner is before choosing colors so I decided to make his grey clothing pieces blue toned in the same shade as bubba. It’s not super noticeable in the reference sheet because it’s surrounded by its complimentary and cross-complimentary colors (orange and yellow) making it look far more desaturated than it actually is. My intent is for the rest of the dark critters to have this same partnering motif from here on out in their color palettes (bubba will get kickins yellow, Bobby will get craftys cyan/teal color, and picky will get something green for hoppy) this will add a sort of visual synergy between each partner set making it more clear when they’re together as a group who the usual pairs are. (Instead of redoing catnap and dogday to fit this rule lets just say that their synergy thing is the red smoke bc when I designed them I didn’t know they were going to be put together as an individual pair instead of being with the rest of the critters as a group.) the idea for how kickin hawks weapons work is that they’re magnetic (either the holsters or a specific point on the weapon itself) and depending on which weapon it is will attach to a different point on his belt (think like polarity the nunchucks won’t attach to the spot where the guns go because the poles in its magnets don’t match the ones for the guns to attach to. This also means that if an enemy has a huge magnet they are guaranteed to never get all of kickins weapons because some of them will have opposing polarity and be repelled by the magnet instead of attracted to it a.k.a science is cool sometimes) The mask is for similar reasons to dogdays because of the fact that bubba uses lots of chemicals and gases similar to catnaps when fighting and kickin doesn’t want to deal with the loose gases effects (at that moment at least I feel like kickin would absolutely be bubba Guinea pig whenever he has a new variation to test) I also dyed some of his feathers with streaks of the reddish orange color because I feel like the moment he got the freedom to choose his appearance he’d go and change it. And uh yeah that’s about it for kickins ramble but if you have questions about the design choices feel free to ask ( while some of these guys may bite I won’t!)

[hplonesomeart]

Late night update on the paper puppet progress!! (actually compared to the last couple days staying up until 12:00-2am this isn’t late at all. My timezone is 9:49pm at the current typing moment lol)

We’ve got the front side of his screen figured out! The backside is still being worked on. Didn’t make any updates on the puzzle pants pattern either. But I did get carried away making replicas of his various facial expressions!! They can be taped onto his default & swapped around as needed. Also debating if I wanna add a version featuring his broken screen (where the colors from his mouth drip out) :))

So I gotta color all of those. Think this is a good amount to leave with (even though I could make a lot more down the line). More importantly I gave him hands at long last! It’s a small assortment compared to the faces but that’s fine. Felt like the pointing/finger guns would be neat, then we’ve got the regular resting hand position, aaaand lastly the handheld microphone!! Might have unintentionally become my favorite one

Think I’ll get some sleep now since classes start really early morning for me. But expect some more updates when able 👍✨

[floofysmallbob]

wheeeyyyyyyy redesigns

This redesign actually took a while, simply because I spent SO MUCH TIME on Wikipedia and researching, but I think it was worth it. His canon design was fairly easy to build off of, and I really enjoyed creating this, so here’s Stun Gun Hero: Chargebolt!

gold and silver shoulder and elbow/knee pads, respectively

gold and silver are both great conductors

i considered lining his suit with metal, but he’s vulnerable to the electricity, and if I lined it with an insulator, it wouldn’t be able to travel as well, so I stuck to keeping all the conductors on the outside of the suit, as well as being detachable

steel toed combat boots that I can’t draw

temperature regulating suit

helps with numbness and muscle tensing/cramping, as well as other common side effects of electrocution

visor that looks more like a visor than a pair of glasses(solely aesthetic)

gold lining on the hems of the jacket

jacket zips up

pockets.

utility belt that I once again cannot draw

extendable metal rod hooked on his belt

more compact shooter device

smaller pellets

connected to the glasses just like in canon

shooter device also has an extendable metal rod

extra pellet thingies are in the utility belt as well as medical care for electricution

AMBER VERSION:

I wanted to add a nod to amber(just search up what does amber have to do with lightning), but I didn’t know where to put it, so I made an alternate version

VERSION WITH CAPE:

Cape is actually a folded up insulated sheet, for protecting bystanders(and looking cool)

HOT WEATHER VERSION:

lighter material

jacket has been replaced by a vest

shorter glove

HOT WEATHER AMBER VERSION:

COLD WEATHER VERSION:

turtleneck

thicker material

taller boots(not visible)

gloves

COLD WEATHER AMBER VERSION:

this was actually the last redesign I had done ahead of time(that I was going to be posting soon), so now I have to do the next one in the coming week before posting it

also, I did get the streak on the correct side, the reference is flipped

as well, as a nod to my personal ships, while not being glaringly obvious(because I hate when I find stuff I like with ships I don’t like), some of the colors of Denki’s outfit are directly color picked from who I ship him with, because I like unnecessary detail

I’ve done this with all the other characters that I ship but Denki’s really the first noticeable one

ok enough of my rambling

as always, tips and advice are welcome!

[quibbs126]

So I’ve been making this

So basically last night, I was listening to some music, specifically Not Gonna Die by Skillet, more specifically a version on YouTube with the intro (because I’m not the biggest fan of Good to be Alive where the intro actually is). Anyways, when it’s night, my imagination tends to be more active and I tend to have more energy. While listening to the song, I eventually got this mental image in my mind of this scene with Dark Choco, and the more it crystallized the more I wanted to draw it. I was going to go to sleep and maybe do it in the morning, but I realized that I probably would forget the vibe and not have as much energy, so instead I decided to power through and draw the idea

It was a bit difficult since I had limited references for the pose I wanted, and I suppose I can admit the sword looks a bit off anatomically, but it looks good enough I think, and lets me keep the eyes revealed

I did eventually have to stop drawing, because my iPad had been worked all the way down to 4% (and it was at 30% when I started, the poor thing), not to mention it was around 11:30 already which is pretty late for me, and my earbuds had been running nonstop for over 2 hours (yes I was listening to the same song, it’s how I keep the vibe). I was at least able to get the pose, base colors and lineart done, and I’m still pretty proud of where I left things last night

Today was mostly just doing the background and lighting, which admittedly I may have fumbled. I’m not very good at backgrounds and I didn’t know how to draw lightning. I tried my best, but honestly I don’t think I got the image in my head. Didn’t help that my brain was playing the wrong Skillet song this morning

Oh yeah and by the way, the background is supposed to be from this. That’s what I used as reference

The lightning both feels like too much and too little. Like, it’s crowding the picture, and I can’t have more because it’d be way too crowded with it, but also at the same time, it doesn’t feel like enough, like there isn’t as much power as I wanted

Actually wait, maybe I can add some small particle effects to like, enhance the lightning feel. That was in the original sketch but I omitted it in the final. If you see one with that, you know I did that

Edit: I did indeed do that

To be fair though, I don’t think I have the art skill to properly convey the image in my head. Basically the scene is that Dark Choco is using absolutely every amount of his power for this final swing down, so much that it’s too powerful and the Strawberry Jam Sword completely shatters. But also it’s too powerful that Dark Choco’s body simply can’t handle it, and he basically ends up exploding. The scene depicted would be the wind up to that final swing that destroys the both of them

This isn’t necessarily the first time I’ve come up with this scenario, and the setup would basically be that he turned on the Cookies of Darkness slightly earlier, because he didn’t want to destroy his homeland again, and he tried to get rid of them while in the kingdom but not yet at the Citadel, but he ended up failing, so with nothing to lose, he chases after them and decides to put everything into destroying them, even if it likely ends in his death. After this he probably killed Pomegranate and crippled Licorice in some way (I don’t think he’d attack Poison Mushroom), so his final act did have some effect, but he’s still dead by the end of it. And he and his father never got the chance to properly reconcile because Dark Choco thought that could never be a possibility anymore and he had resigned himself to his fate

But yeah, I just don’t know how to convey that sheer overwhelming power and emotion that this scenario suggests. I tried my best though

I also want to submit this to the Dark Cacao Forever contest, but I’m not sure if it’s good enough for it. What do you think?

[lennons-lemonade]

the sally face gang because i recently realized that there truly isn’t ever enough art of them🫶

except, in true lennon fashion i had to add all of my headcanons and modernize them !!! here’s some info about each of my designs for them!!

in my design, the gang as a whole makes up a band called LAST (their first initials). they have matching necklaces for their corresponding instruments. i’ll go further into detail for that during their personal designs!

I was never able to totally describe Ash’s style, but some version of mall goth (not pictured here ofc) and biker-ish were the closest descriptors i could find. she and sal have hair dying parties where he’ll dye her tips and she’ll touch up his roots. idk how to draw ladder-laced docs, but if she were following lace code then they’d signify that she’s lgbtq. i think she doodles on her arms (similarly to larry) but her parents bug her about it, so she wears long fingerless gloves. ash is LAST’s singer and bassist! her necklace has a small, poorly drawn, microphone on it!

Larry’s style was much easier to describe. he’s a metal head with a side of grunge. he’s wearing homemade patch pants with random patterns and other details about him on the patches themselves. i still don’t know how to draw ladder laces, but larry does follow lace code and his laces are yellow for anti-racist and purple for lgbtq. he’s a huge doodler and spends a lot of time in school drawing on himself. he’s got Sanity Falls’ logo on his arm nearby LAST’s logo. he has other random paranormal details (a ghost and an eye) dotted around on his arm aswell. he’s LAST’s backup guitarist and will do vocals when the song calls for it. his necklace is a pick to signify this!

You may notice that Sal has a chest. in my mind he’s always been transmasc, but for this drawing i decided to draw him when he wasn’t binding. I describe their style as hippie grunge most of the time, but i think they also dabble further into the grunge style. he doesn’t draw on his shoes himself, but every now and then ash or larry will. since their mom was blonde and blue isn’t a natural hair-color, i thought them dying their blonde hair blue was really fun! he doesn’t always keep make up on his mask, but he didn’t have the time to clean it today. they’re LAST’s lead guitarist and have a pick necklace to reference this!

Todd is generally under-appreciated. i think if he were to generally put more effort into his appearance he would dress in dark academia. he got his left ear pierced with ash and his right pierced with neil. i feel like in most fanart his hair is suspiciously straight, so i did my best to make it generally curlier. he’s telling larry some kind of fun fact and the gang is reacting to it. he doesn’t draw on things around him like larry and ash, but he does write poetry! dead poets society is his favorite movie of all time. he’s LAST’s drummer because i think he needs some kind of outlet to deal with his anger. he also helps with band management. there are two drumsticks on his necklace!

[bleachification]

a painting’s ire - dazai

+ dazai x f!reader (fantasy au)

+ this is chapter FOUR of: all that glitters is not gold (pls read the prologue and previous chapters first or you will be very lost!!)

+ author’s note: i tried to keep it gender neutral but some of the dialogue/titles required pronouns so im sorry :((

(special thanks to my beta reader wayna @ladyofpandemonium <3)

“Are you ready, Your Highness?”

You recognize the voice calling out from behind your shut doors. Chief Minister Kunikida awaits you on the other side.

A bit puzzled, you hesitate. The pause is all your maid needs to cut in and exclaim: “We still need a minute, sir!”

We do? You think to yourself. The girl has truly outdone herself. Staring back at you in the mirror is a version of yourself that has not come to surface for far too long. Your hair is glossy and silken to the touch, and the makeup she applied seems to be made for you—made to grace your features and bring them to light. The clothes she has chosen for you after much deliberation fit you like a glove, and only add to your striking appearance. The fabric pools off of you in some spots, and clings to your skin in others—the color itself is, as explained by the maid, a deliberate choice. It is custom for the guest of honor to wear white at any imperial event. 

With a final puff of powder to your nose, she backs away, satisfied. 

“Thank you…” you pause, a slight sense of guilt surfacing, “I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch your name.”

The maid gives you a strange smile, almost like she is amused. But at what?

A short knock at the door stops you from asking. With a huff, you make your way to it and open it with a little more attitude than required. Kunikida doesn’t react—doesn’t even  blink—like the statue that he is. 

“Chief Minister, I am surprised to see you here.”

“As am I,” he replies dryly. 

You raise a brow.

“It was not originally I who was meant to escort you. That honour belonged to General Yukichi Fukuzawa,” he mutters almost regretfully.

You stick your head into the hallway and scan both sides, backing up with a frown when you see that it is empty, “Then where is he?”

“For reasons unknown to me or anyone sane, I would wager, His Majesty came marching into the office not too long ago and demanded that I take General Fukuzawa’s spot. He declared that General Fukuzawa was forbidden to be your escort to the welcome banquet. I tried to persuade His Majesty otherwise, I really did, but…” Kunikida grimaces, as if reliving an unpleasant memory.

“But what?”

Kunikida sighs, “He threatened to increase my overtime to threefold.”

You feign a cough to cover your laugh, “Ah. A slave to the corporation, I see.”

“I do make money,” Kunikida points out. You don’t doubt it. Every ounce of his demeanour exudes wealth—from his custom-tailored clothing, platinum-rimmed glasses, and impeccable grooming, down to the very air he carries himself with. No one would mistake him as anything but nobility.

“But do you…” you point at his dark circles, “sleep?”

He looks away, bored and irritated at the same time, “Not since overtime was implemented.”

You blink. “Right. Anyway—”

A clattering sound behind you makes both of you turn to the source of the commotion. Your maid is bent over, scrambling to pick up the basket of cosmetics that has just tumbled to the floor. She freezes as she catches your eyes on her. 

“Uh… oops?”

Kunikida pops up behind you, neck craning to see. At the sight of your maid, he narrows his eyes. “Yosano?”

“Damn it, Kunikida,” she hisses. Yosano shoves the rest of the pots and assortment of objects back into the basket in her arms before straightening and shooting the Chief Minister a glare that could kill. 

You look at her. Then, you look at Kunikida. Then, back at Yosano. 

“What am I missing?”

“Yosano, what in heaven’s name are you doing here?” Kunikida asks. You have never seen him so exasperated—or showing so much emotion. 

The strange woman huffs and rolls her eyes, “I swear, must you ruin all of the fun? I was merely helping–”

Kunikida turns a concerning shade of pink, “You are parading around our guest of honor’s room like that of a court jester! Show some decorum–”

“Me?!”

You hear a snap somewhere in your mind. Stepping between the two bickering adults, you smile, though not so warmly. “Pardon my intrusion, but will someone explain the situation? Now.” 

There is no room for a please. You are much too irritated for it. 

Kunikida pauses his berating and turns to you with a flat expression–as always. Yosano, on the other hand, only crosses her arms and gives you an innocent smile. You are unsure of what to think of such an eccentric girl. She must be someone important if she has the nerve and ability to cross words with Kunikida. 

“Your Highness, meet Yosano. Also known as Dr. Yosano Akiko, the royal physician,” Kunikida introduces with a wave of his hand. 

You stare at Dr. Yosano. Cropped hair, clothes of a servant, and an air of capriciousness make up the person before you—none that are traits usually attached to a traditional doctor. All the ones you used to see back in the Northern Empire were fickle old men who seemed more concerned with filling their pockets than their patients’ wellbeing. 

She curtsies, mischief gleaming in her eyes, “Nice to formally greet you, Your Highness.”

“I am not sure I can say the same, Dr. Yosano,” you muse. 

She only laughs, “That is alright. But—oh, lord, look at the time. Come on, then! Hurry off!” 

Before you understand what is happening, you and Kunikida are pushed outside by the surprisingly strong doctor. She slams the bedroom door in your face. Your bedroom door. 

“She is…”

“Bizarre? Abnormal? Stark raving mad?” Kunikida suggests. 

You nod subconsciously, “Different. I was going to say different.”

As you walk down the palace hallways, you can’t help but notice the echoing clacks of your heels against the tiled floor. And in this open silence, with nothing but your own steps to fill it, you find yourself drawn to the oil paintings lining the walls. Four steel frames, curved into various antique shapes, house portraits of familiar faces. The paintings are hung high above your head and the eyes of their subjects gaze upon you from above, looking down at you with regal disdain. 

The first is of an older woman with sharp features and an elegant disposition. Her long black hair falls far past her shoulders and is adorned with a diamond crown. It is the only brightly-colored part of the artwork. 

The second painting is of a man whose features are harsh with age and brittled with temperament. His commanding stare pierces through you, and you have to suppress a shiver at the emptiness behind it. If there is ever a person to fear, it would be him. 

Third is perhaps the most heartbreaking. It is of a young, dark-haired girl that is not even five years of age. The painter captures her mid-laugh as she is held up in the air by the arms of another, holding tightly onto the rabbit plush in her arms. A beautiful child who succumbed to plague before even coming of age. The sight of her makes your throat knot, but it is the fourth painting that stops you in your tracks.

“Your Highness?”

You faintly register Kunikida next to you wondering why on earth you’ve frozen to the floor, but his voice does nothing to dissuade you. 

The final painting is of a young child as well, but he is visibly older than the girl. You would wager he is somewhere around fifteen years old. He is sitting on a stool, hands folded in his lap, back ramrod straight. The expression on his face is not one that a child should ever make—he looks as if the weight of the world has just fallen onto his shoulders. Dazai’s vacant eyes stare back at you. 

“Your Highness!” 

Kunikida’s voice tears you from your thoughts and you blink, the fog clearing from your mind. 

“Sorry, I–I was…”

The Chief Minister only spares you a wary glance before looking away, “We should get going. His Majesty is waiting.”

You take a deep breath before falling into step next to him, “Why do you address Dazai as ‘His Majesty’, but me with the lower title? Am I not wed to your king?”

Kunikida quickens his pace, “His Majesty’s coronation is not until tomorrow evening. For all formal purposes, ‘Highness’ is the correct title. As for why we address him differently, that is because of the blood oath undertaken by the royal lineage. From the moment of the late king’s passing, His Majesty Dazai was king, with or without coronation.”

“The blood oath?”

He pauses. “Ah… my tongue seems to be looser than my mind. Forgive me, I have spoken too freely.”

You frown, unsatisfied by the bait he has just dangled before you, “You cannot just move on from that as if you said nothing.”

Kunikida does not budge, “If you inquire to learn more, you can only seek to ask His Majesty. Although, in truth, I would advise against it. Some things are meant to be kept secret.”

How curious. “Even from the person he married?” 

Kunikida’s expression turns serious—more so than usual, “Especially then.”

You open your mouth to reply, but you are halted by another person’s arrival. Kunikida immediately dips into a bow as Dazai strides over from a hallway to the left, stopping just in front of a large entryway barred by two arching steel doors. Two knights dressed in formal garb stand on each end, unmoving. They bow as well. 

“Sire.”

Dazai nods in greeting to Kunikida before turning his eyes to you. The king stands before you in a perfectly tailored suit, one with red accents and a black base. A thick, matching fur coat is slung over his shoulders. It makes him seem even taller than usual and only adds to his authority. 

“You look…” 

You wait as he takes you in. His eyes never leave yours as he breathes out: “You look like you belong on the throne.”

“It is mine after all. Though not acquired through my own merit,” you note with a hint of bitterness.

“That does not make you any less worthy.”

You square your shoulders and step forward, ready to face the masses, “I am well aware.”

Dazai holds out his arm for you to take. You peer down and hesitate for a slight moment before relenting and resting your hand in the crook of his arm. His muscles tense under your touch. You pretend not to notice.

“Are you ready?”

“Of course…” your grip tightens imperceptibly, “I understand my duty.”

“As do I.”

The doors open before you and, as you step over the threshold, you can’t help but become aware of the stark coolness of metal against your bare skin. 

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . 　  

The world explodes into symphony, and a thousand shining arrows spill from the glass ceiling as rays of starlight, raining down upon the hundreds of people awaiting you beneath the entrance stairway. A velvet carpet as red as freshly drawn blood guides your path towards the dais at the back of the ballroom. It is a large crystal platform that holds two seats. They are of equal size, design, and color. The two thrones are crafted from molten gold and precision-cut diamond, cushioned with the highest-quality silk, and embellished with the kingdom’s crest that sits at the very spot where a crown would be if someone were to occupy the seat. 

The orchestra does not pause its performance when the Master of Ceremonies begins his booming introduction—only lowers its volume so as not to cause distractions.

“Here enters His Royal Highness, Dazai Osamu, The Sun of the Kingdom, Lord of Lesser Divinity, and the future King of Yokohama.”

Dazai steps forward into the light and the crowd erupts in cheers, completely suppressing the music playing in the background.   

You take a deep breath before doing the same.

“Here enters our guest of honour: Her Royal Highness, Y/N L/N, the future Queen of Yokohama.”

The claps that follow are not silent by any means, but they do not quite produce the same enthusiasm and reverence that Dazai commanded. There is a line of wariness that they draw, and you will need to perform well—not only tonight but furthermore—in order to cross it. 

Hundreds of eyes are upon you. Some curious, others skeptical. The select few that bear patronage will be the ones to look out for. 

The reception is lavish, to say the least. There are rows and rows of tables on the right side of the banquet hall. Each one is loaded with delicacies and champagne towers. Waiters line the other side of the room, all holding a tray filled with wine flutes and passed hors d'oeuvres. In the middle are Dazai's guests: attendees from all walks of nobility—dukes, marchionesses, military leaders, and politicians, among others—reveling in the spirit of the party.

Chandeliers sparkle above and whispers float through the air as you make your way to your seats at the forefront of it all. Hand in arm, Dazai keeps in step with you and the two of you sit yourselves in your respective seats. You are again looking down at everything. It is a feeling that you are unaccustomed to, yet comfortable with. 

Dazai holds a palm up and the room falls silent. 

“To our dear guests gathered here today, I would like to express my gratitude. Tonight is a celebration of change—of a new light. Tonight, our nation shall welcome a new monarch. Tonight… we shall bear witness to an epoch of peace.”

The crowd dips into a bow, like a receding wave on a crystal beach. As they draw themselves up, you can feel stares upon you once again. 

You tilt your chin up and level your gaze. If they are searching for something to scrutinize, they will be sorely disappointed. 

You hear Dazai let out a sharp breath once the music resumes and the spotlight is off of you two for the moment . You don’t realize how tightly you have been gripping the arms of your throne until you peer down and see how your knuckles have turned white. You consciously release your iron grip. 

“How are you holding up?” Dazai asks. 

You keep your gaze on the dinner service—which is now in full swing—as you answer him, “What makes you believe I wouldn’t be?”

Dazai pauses, then lets out another breath, this time in the form of a sigh. 

“It is a simple yes or no question, Y/N.”

You are led to the head of the tables and seated. Waiters trickle out from the sides and set down plates of food and glasses full of decade-aged wine in front of you and Dazai. You look over to him and say, “It is never simple with you, Your Majesty.”

“I am merely making sure you are comfortable,” he replies. 

“Why? Do you love me?”

Dazai makes a strangled noise, “What?!” 

“It is a simple yes or no question, Your Majesty.” 

Another strangled noise. 

“Would you like some water?” You beckon a waiter over, but Dazai puts his hand up and motions him away. 

Dazai covers his face with a palm and mumbles, “Why would you ask that?”

“Why would I not? You act as though you do.” You shift in your seat so that your body is tilted towards him, “So, do you?”

“Do I love you?”

You nod and he looks away for a moment, gathering his thoughts. For a second, you think he might not answer you, but when he does, it catches you off guard. 

“I do not love you.” He says it so quietly, you almost don’t process it. 

“You… don’t?” 

“Y/N, I cannot even trust you. Even now, you hide a blade beneath your clothes, awaiting a moment of weakness. I have learned not to be weak in front of you.”

Liquid ice flows through your veins. You have never felt so unprepared—so stripped of your own courage. 

How… how? How did he—?!

A sudden sharp violin note startles you from your stupor and you quickly calm your swirling panic. Laughter ebbs and flows, a contrast to the tension crackling in the air around you.

You inhale sharply and ball your hands into fist, tightening until you can feel the bite of your own nails against your skin. 

“Whatever might you mean, Your Majesty?” You commend yourself for your stable tone. 

Dazai looks at you with a strange expression and replies, “Let’s not play this game, Y/N. Let’s not run circles around each other, pretending to be oblivious in order to preserve some form of dignity. Forget dignity. You want me dead and for good reason.”

You tilt your head slightly, and bring your face closer—until you are mere inches away from him.

There is fire in your eyes and venom in your words as you spit out: “Death is more mercy than you could ever deserve. The only thing preventing me from drawing my weapon is simply the fact that you are more useful alive at the moment, though that sentiment could change in an instant. Do not, for a second, think that I am on your side. You burned that bridge well over a decade ago. You have no right to love me.” 

Dazai’s expression shutters and he leans away. The picture-perfect king is back, and any presence of unnecessary emotions has been wiped clean from his person. 

“What I feel for you is another thing entirely. I do apologize if I misled you,” he says. 

A sense of… something washes over you. Relief? No—something more. It is not unpleasant. If anything, his confession makes what you plan to do much easier. 

“I’m glad,” you reply dryly. 

Dazai doesn’t answer. 

“I am curious though, you say you don’t love me–”

“I did say that, yes,” he interrupts flatly. Dazai’s knife scrapes against the porcelain as he aggressively cuts into his steak. You take a bit of your own meal, the succulent meat tasting of cardboard. You blame it on the anxiety rolling in your stomach. 

“Then why do you make it seem as though you do? Your interest and actions toward me are not how one treats a stranger. Even a blind man could see that.” You are unsure why you keep prodding. Curiosity has always been a vice of yours. 

He blinks in confusion and swallows the last of his dinner before asking, “Y/N, what makes you believe I see you as a stranger?”

You take a sip of wine. It is a bit sour for your taste so you set the glass back down. 

“What makes you assume I am not one?”

At that, Dazai drops the fork he is holding and it clatters against the wooden tabletop. He replies in a soft tone, “From birth into the springs of youth, I had been by your side. Despite our distance, our history still exists. You and I are not strangers. I can never treat you as such.”

He is right. There is a history between you two—one that is too bloody and too steeped in misery to allow you to be strangers. But it will also  never allow you to be anything more than a king and queen—bound only by the ties of duty. 

“I can accept that,” you say. 

Dazai whips his head towards you and echoes, “You can?”

The dishes in front of you are cleared away and replaced with small plates with decadent desserts. You take a bite out of one that looks like a chiffon cake with some sort of lavender cream and candied flowers on top. Delicious. 

“As strangers, the hatred I harbour for you would make no sense. So yes, I can most certainly accept that,” you reply matter-of-factly. 

“You—”

Dazai is cut off by the resounding voice of the Master of Ceremonies. He has just announced the end of dinner service and the beginning of the dance, and subsequently, socialization. 

You stand, ready to make your rounds with the guests, when you feel a warm hand enclosing around your wrist. His grip is not tight enough to hurt, but has enough pressure that it stops you from moving. As if burned, you yank your hand back. The movement startles Dazai and he quickly lets go, a look of regret crossing over his features. 

“Sorry! I’m sorry… I just wanted you to wait a moment,” he explains.

Your jaw tenses, nausea rolling in your stomach as you grit out, “Why?”

“We need to talk. Please, it is important,” he pleads. He looks up at you with a kind of urgency in his eyes that unsettles you. 

“Here? Now?” The timing could not be more off. You faintly register the sounds of music and lively chatter in the background. Many pairs are waltzing underneath the crystal dome, swaying to the orchestra's melody.

“No. I have other matters to attend to and you have your own obligations. Tomorrow night. Will you have dinner with me? We can speak then,” Dazai suggests. 

Every emotional part of you screams at you to refuse—the lingering memory of his touch still makes you itch—but logic overtakes it and rears its head. If what he needs to say is really that important… there is a chance it will be useful to you in the future. 

“I shall see you then.”

Dazai nods and then leaves with Kunikida, who had just appeared with a stack of paperwork and even darker circles under his eyes than when you saw him last. You heard them muttering something about an investigation before disappearing down a side corridor. 

You let out a breath of relief, glad to finally gain some distance. You could barely contain the spite welling up inside you the longer you conversed with him. Just the act of being near him causes the world to tint red.

Not-so-quiet whispers surround you as you make your way to a group of nobles who eagerly await your presence. You keep your guard up, unsure whether to expect excitement or snide remarks. 

There are four of them. To your left is a couple who looks around your age, polite smiles gracing their faces. The man is blonde, and the girl shoulder-to-shoulder with him has shining white locks; both of them are elegant in their own right. On your right, in stark contrast, is an older, middle-aged, pot-bellied man with more hair on his chin than head, and sweat stains pooling underneath his arms. An incredibly expensive-looking platinum watch is fastened onto his plump wrist. His features are scrunched and prominent, reminding you of swine. An even older woman, who you assume to be his mother, hunches behind him, a large feathered hat hiding half of her face. The side you can make out almost makes you do a double take. Ancient is too feeble a word to describe her. The woman is decrepit. You’re shocked she doesn't crumble into ash at the slightest movement. 

“Greetings to Your Royal Highness. May I just say how lovely you look in our kingdom’s ceremonial dress! The color truly is perfect for someone of your sta—Oh my… please, allow me to apologize for such a blunder. My dear mother had gotten me this suit as a gift, and it seems she has forgotten the imperial customs due to her condition. As her eldest son, I could not bear to break her heart by refusing. Surely such a kind individual as yourself can understand and forgive?” 

For a moment you are at a complete loss. Who is this man, why is he spitting into your face the moment you meet him, and what on earth is he blubbering on about?

Then it clicks. His entire outfit is ivory white. From the tie straining against his neck to the polished loafers donning his feet. Head to toe, this stranger is clad in the colors designated to the guest of honor. The very same colors you have been made to wear. 

You merely smile and turn to the couple beside him, both of whom are shooting the man strained looks. The moment your eyes fall on them, they dip into a bow and curtsy. 

“Your Highness. I am—”

“I am Duke Sumida, and this is my mother, the lady of House West—we are of one of the four noble families in Yokohama. We are so delighted to make your acquaintance!” the middle-aged man interrupts. His mother, lady of House West and most definitely not a walking corpse, makes some sort of croaking noise next to her son. 

You take a step back, an absurdly fake grin plastered onto your face as you take in the two who are so eager to gain your attention. 

“Duke Sumida, I ask that you show some decorum. I will greet you in just a moment, after I do the same to the lovely people next to you,” you chastise. 

The duke turns slightly purple. 

“I apologize, Your Highness. However, I am of a duchy while they are mere baron and baroness. Surely, you can discern the priority.”  

Oh, how you wish to put your hands around his wide neck and squeeze. The baron and baroness wear  expressions that reveal they’d like to do the same. 

“While I can—”

The man interrupts again. “It is fascinating how times are changing—seeing as how our esteemed guest of honor is none other than the child of a barbarian. How utterly modern. Back during the previous king’s reign, such a step could seem almost… radical. Of course, I mean no disrespect.”

You must stay calm, cool, and collected. 

“When there is such an inadequate aristocracy, radicalization seems to be the only viable option, no?” You grit out, hoping the smile plastered on your face doesn’t look as psychotic as you feel. 

“Because you are new to the kingdom’s etiquette, I shall let this slip slide. I wouldn’t suggest using such charged language, lest you want to curry misunderstanding. Of course, I am merely looking out for your reputation. We would not want anything to sully it further,” he snorts. 

Calm. Cool. Collected. 

You grip your clothes tighter, mentally forcing your hands to still. 

“I am touched by your concern, but it is unnecessary. For someone of your age, I am sure change is a startling thing to witness, but what is change but a cure to a rotten system? When such archaic norms fall to obsolescence, as they always have and will, there must be a radical thinker capable enough to rebuild it from the ground up. Better, bigger, and stronger,” you argue. 

At that, he drops all pretense of propriety, “Ha! And it shall be you? What a foolish—”

“Who is foolish?” A deep voice rumbles. 

You recognize that tone immediately. 

“General Fukuzawa!”

“Fukuzawa,” you grin.  

The silver-haired soldier regards the duke coolly before turning his attention wholly on you, “Your Highness.”

“If we are to be friends, you can at least call me by my name,” you offer. 

The older man gives you a bemused smile and dips forward so that you are at eye level. 

“How could I possibly?” he replies. 

“Quite easily. Repeat after me—”

“Ahem,” The duke tries to clear his throat but it only ends up sounding like a wet garble. 

You hear a crack in your ears. 

Before you can even comprehend the consequences of what you are about to do, you pluck a wine glass from a passing waiter, walk up to the duke, and tilt the glass so that the crimson liquid spills onto his head and drips down onto his suit, staining it an angry plum shade—much like the current colour of its owner’s face. 

No one moves. No one even dares to draw breath. 

The stunned silence is only broken by the duke’s shriek and a soft chuckle that sounds an awful lot like your new friend. 

“You…!”

“And for the record? Better a barbarian than a sniveling moron who, alongside his senile mother, does not know his place. Do not forget, you may claim a seat at the table, but I take the throne.”

tags: @zjarrmiii @aiizenn @emyyy007 @letsliveagaintoday​

[dnpanimationstudioclone]

Moxxie Redesign🎵🐊

Made my own version of Moxxie for Fun!🎶

I like Moxxies design! It’s very cute and gives off music conductor/thespian vibes well with the bow tie and coattails🎵🎶🎭

Biggest change I did was make him a Greed/Wrath type like Striker, but instead of being snake based, he’s a crocodile 🐊(My Crim’s def a croc!!!). Gave him a snout, claws, teeth, spikes, gave him more brownish yellow skin tones, colored his hair and gave him a thicker tail and legs. Didn’t add the eye rings, just slit pupils, but I can see them form when he’s angry or focusing on something, similar to how Moxxies sclera turns red when angry or alarmed.

Fun fact Crocodiles r asscociated with things like destruction, deceit and greed, fitting for his family origins on his dads side and Crocodiles, among other exotic animals are associated with the mob. But they can also mean good things such as protection, strength and adaptability. They can also mean things like ambiguity & duality, showing how Moxxie struggles with his identity and where he lies but can still be different from his father! It’s all up to him on the type of imp he wants to be.

Kept the music conductor vibe and added more such as leg spats, a vest and cute music note cufflinks🎶(Perhaps a gift from Millie) but also allude to slight Godfather vibes with the suit and red pin to allude a rose🌹. Show his origins being in organized crime with how sharp and well dressed he is. @a-sterling-rose pointed this out and how this connects him well with Blitz who also tries to move on from his past but can’t go cold turkey from the aesthetic fully.

Made his suit more gray to give off how he’s the more morally conflicted of I.M.P, trying to be more moral. Also went for more light goldish yellow to give off his sweet but timid nature, plus to give off Greed origins(eye for gold 🏆🌟👑).

Made his hair a bit more wavy to give off his mom’s more. Also colored it more, having his father’s genes.

Added more freckles along his snout.

Curved his nostrils to give off a slight devil horns 👿, to push him being Hellborn.

Gave him a pin for his association with I.M.P. Ngl Lovesart23 pin def stuck in my head for this, just fits for him very well.

Went with smaller horns, pointed them to give off music notes 🎶

Made him a bit more on the chubbier side.

I imagine he’s a bit taller than Millie and atleast around Blitz height more but still smaller than Loona.

Added a ring periced into his tail to give off a wedding ring 💍 . Headcanons, some imps pierce their rings on their tails.

What do u think? How would u redesign Moxxie? I’d love to know💖

Also made Millie, Loona & Stella🐂🐺🦢

[mrvelocipede]

Notes on the multicolored doily

Ovale Decke: Ravelry link, Ramona French charts

Knitted using three colors of crochet cotton, on US size 2 (2.75mm) needles. Finished dimensions about 24x18 inches.

The hexagonal units are reasonably straightforward to knit, although I had some questions about the chart. There’s a triple YO that turns into 7 stitches, which is clearly visible in pictures of the finished doily, but which is charted in a way that looks like it would result in two groups of three and a single stitch. Historic Niebling patterns tell you to alternate knits and purls in the same stitch for those huge increases, but I usually alternate knits and YOs instead. It makes fewer twists in the yarn.

Then there’s a round of purl stitches, and I can’t figure out why. The pictures from the original magazine don’t seem to have them, and some of the Ravelry projects don’t have them either, but some do. At what stage of things was this variation introduced? It is a mystery. I swatched it both ways, and decided to leave them out.

Ultimately, I made my own version of the chart, and used that. Here it is, for the record. In the hexagon chart, I included every round, because there are a couple of things that happen on even-numbered rounds, and I didn’t want to lose track of them. The border charts use the more standard notation of only showing odd-numbered rounds.

The 1x1 cable crosses may have all gone the same direction in the original, but I decided to mirror them, and also to not do them as actual cables. Instead, I did a mock cable that I think of as a Fake Decrease, but which is maybe officially called a Twisted Stitch (or Traveling Stitch?) and which I got very tired of by the time I was at the end of the border. All the border leaves are outlined in these crossed stitches as well. There are a lot of them. Bah.

I made four hexagonal units and grafted them together. Then I put all the remaining stitches onto a 24 inch needle, and considered the border.

The hexagon sides each have 17 stitches. In between the groups of 17, you either add a YO or you don’t, depending on whether that corner is convex or concave. I made a little diagram for both the 4-unit and the 9-unit versions, to show the placement of the in-between YOs.

I used several different colors of stitch markers to keep track of which places had the YOs and which ones didn’t. The YOs eventually expand into the triple-leaf shapes, but at first they’re easy to lose sight of.

I re-charted the border as two parts, A and B, and made a few small tweaks. When you’re using chart A, instead of repeating the chart exactly, you work whichever bits apply: the leaf increases happen at the corners where you’ve added a YO, and the former hexagon sides are gradually decreased away.

So you work rounds 1-8 of chart A, knitting any ktbl stitches through the back loop on the plain rounds as well. Starting with round 9, the part of the chart inside the orange outline gets repeated three times. Those sections get much wider very quickly, and it didn’t take very long before I had to switch to a 32 inch needle. And eventually to wish I had a 40 inch one.

On round 19, there are some places in between the leaf sections where there’s one stitch, and some places where there are two. To start chart B, you need three stitches in between the leaves, so you either do one YO (in between), or two YOs (one on either side). On round 20, I decided to knit those single in-between YOs through the back loop, because they seemed a bit too open and gappy. I suppose that more or less turns them into a M1.

I used two different double decreases, as follows:

The angled double decrease is slip 1 stitch, knit 2 together, pass the slipped stitch over: the central stitch ends up on the bottom of the stack, and the diagonal decrease lines are emphasized.

The centered double decrease is slip 2 stitches together knitwise, knit 1, pass both slipped stitches over: the central stitch ends up on top, and the vertical line is emphasized.

The 5-into-1 decrease goes like this: first you slip 2 stitches knitwise, exactly like you would for a ssk. Knit the next 2 stitches together, and pass one of the slipped stitches over. Then move the stitch over to the left needle, and pass the next working stitch over it. Move it back to the right needle, pass the other slipped stitch over it, and you’re done.

Chart B is pretty much normal lace knitting (except for the interminable 1x1 crossed stitches). After round 31, the marked groups of stitches are gathered with crochet chains in between.

The ones on Ravelry all seem to be diamond-shaped, but I blocked mine into more of an ellipse, and it’s kind of interesting to see how it distorted the central hexagons. Dealing with all the loose ends was exactly as terrible as you think it was. Writing the notes took nearly as long as the actual knitting. Hooray!