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aventurineswife · 2 days ago

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Do you think you could write about an artist reader who reveals their latest works has had their crush as their muse as a roundabout way of confessing? Idk I had this vivid idea of love at first sight and only painting in the colors of their love, staying up for nights on end practically obsessed with capturing what they feel and see but keeping it hidden till it all bursts out.

Brushstrokes of a Hidden Heart

Tags: Dan Heng x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Aventurine x Reader, Artist!Reader, Love at First Sight, Unrequited Love(?), Secret Admiration, Confession Through Art, Obsessive Love(?), Vulnerability, Slow Burn, Angst, Fluff.

Warnings: Mild angst, Self-doubt, Unspoken feelings, Emotional vulnerability, Possible unreciprocated feelings, Intense focus on personal emotions.

A/N: didn't know which fandom you wanted it from, so I did it for HSR 😕

Dan Heng sat in the dimly lit cabin of the Astral Express, the rhythmic hum of the train the only sound that accompanied his solitude. He had always found solace in the quiet, preferring it to the bustling noise of crowds or the endless chatter of others. Yet, tonight was different. His mind was clouded with thoughts of you, the artist who had been a silent but ever-present figure in his life since the day he met you.

The first time he laid eyes on you, it was nothing more than a fleeting moment—one he hadn't thought much of at the time. But it was strange, wasn't it? How that moment stayed with him, replaying in his mind like an image he couldn't shake. He had never been one to dwell on emotions, and yet something about you made him want to linger, if only in the shadows, far away from the spotlight.

Dan Heng didn't understand what had changed. He wasn't someone who sought out attention, let alone affection. And yet, as he watched you work from afar, sketching, painting, your every movement seemed to haunt him. His heart would beat just a little faster whenever you were near, though he could never bring himself to speak those words aloud.

He found himself drawn to your art. The way you captured the world around you, the strokes of your brush that seemed to tell stories even without words. There was a certain intensity in your work—an emotional rawness that he couldn't ignore. He often found himself admiring your paintings when you weren’t around, noticing how every canvas seemed to glow with your feelings.

It was late into the night when he stumbled upon your most recent piece. His heart skipped a beat as he studied it, entranced by the use of color—vibrant, soft hues blending together in ways that felt… familiar. It wasn’t just a painting. It was a confession, a revelation.

The subject of the piece was unmistakable. It was him.

You had painted him—his profile, his features, his soul—captured in every brushstroke. But it wasn’t just the image that left him breathless. It was the colors, the warmth that spilled from the canvas. The shades of blue, gold, and soft pinks spoke of longing, of something deeper than simple admiration. It was a language he understood but had never expected to see expressed so vividly.

He didn’t know what to feel. His initial instinct was to run, to distance himself from this vulnerability you had so willingly shared through your art. But something inside him stopped him. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the painting, and he certainly couldn’t tear himself away from you.

The confession was out now, laid bare in the colors of your love. The quiet admiration, the unspoken feelings—it was all there, framed on the canvas in front of him.

Dan Heng sighed, a soft exhale of air escaping his lips as he stood before the painting. For the first time, he allowed himself to feel the weight of what he hadn’t dared to acknowledge. And maybe, just maybe, he could find the courage to speak those words too, to paint his own feelings for you.

But for now, he stood still, his gaze locked on the painting of the one person who had quietly captured his heart without him even realizing it.

Sunday sat in the quiet of his room, a flickering candle casting soft shadows across the walls. His fingers drummed lightly on the desk, a slight frown on his face as he looked at the painting in front of him. It was a recent creation of yours, the artist he had come to know and admire, even though he had never once admitted it aloud.

It had begun innocently enough—your work, a collection of serene landscapes, abstract expressions of peace and stillness. But as he continued to observe you, there was a shift. Your art had changed, taken on a more personal tone. It wasn’t just about capturing beauty anymore. It was about capturing something much deeper, something you didn’t quite show anyone else. The passion in your strokes had transformed, and Sunday couldn’t ignore it.

The latest piece was a reflection of his own face. His figure was painted in muted hues of silver and violet, colors that mirrored the ones that seemed to haunt him in his dreams. But it wasn’t the likeness that struck him the most; it was the emotion woven into every brushstroke. There was love in the way the colors swirled, an emotion so tangible it seemed to bleed from the canvas.

It was as if you had captured every fleeting moment of their encounters—the way he smiled at you with a hint of warmth, the way his gaze lingered a moment too long. You had woven all of it into this painting, turning their quiet moments into something that felt like poetry, like a love song without words.

For a long while, Sunday simply stared at the painting, his thoughts a whirl of confusion. He had always believed in the Sweetdream Paradise, a world where people could escape their pain. But this… this felt different. It felt real, like a dream he didn’t want to escape, one he wasn’t sure he was ready to face.

Was this your way of confessing? The idea that someone could love him—the person who had always distanced himself from true connection, who had always preached the merit of a painless, perfect world—seemed impossible. And yet, there it was, in front of him.

The painting was more than just art. It was a message, a way of saying what neither of them had yet dared to speak aloud. You had used your work to tell him what was in your heart, and now, he had to decide if he could find the courage to do the same.

The weight of the moment hung in the air, heavy with unspoken words. As he reached out to touch the canvas, a sense of longing surged within him—something that hadn’t been there before. Perhaps, in this moment, the dream of escape no longer felt as appealing as the dream of something real. Something tangible. Something he could finally reach for.

He closed his eyes, allowing himself to imagine a future where the colors of love—your love—were the only ones he ever saw.

Aventurine sat in his private study, the dim light of the lamps casting shadows on the room’s elegant furnishings. His fingers idly turned a deck of cards as he gazed at the newest painting displayed on the wall—a work of art that had both mesmerized and unsettled him. The colors, the brushstrokes, the way your soul seemed to be embedded in every layer of paint—he had seen many paintings in his time, but none like this.

The subject was unmistakable. It was him.

But this was not a simple portrait. No, this was far more. It was raw. It was a confession wrapped in the hues of the artist’s emotions. His face, framed by dark shades of green and gold, looked almost serene, yet there was something deeply intimate about it. The delicate touches of rose and violet reflected a softness that made his heart beat just a little faster.

He had always prided himself on being able to control everything—every move, every decision, every game he played. Life, to him, was a high-stakes gamble, a game of strategy and manipulation. But here, with this painting, everything felt out of his hands. This wasn’t a game. This was real.

Aventurine had always been surrounded by beauty, charm, and a sense of power, but there was something different about this. It wasn’t the typical adoration or fascination he was used to; no, this was love—true, unfiltered love. And somehow, it was aimed at him.

His gaze lingered on the painting, every brushstroke sending a jolt through his chest. He wondered if this was your way of confessing, of revealing the feelings you had hidden beneath the surface. He hadn’t expected this, not from someone like you, someone who had always remained so distant, so reserved. Yet here it was, in full view—a revelation he could no longer ignore.

He had been careful with his emotions, always keeping them locked away behind a facade of confidence and control. But this… this painting had cracked that facade wide open. He couldn’t deny it any longer. The truth was there, laid bare on the canvas, just as much as his own heart was.

Aventurine smiled, a rare, genuine smile that softened his usual playful demeanor. Maybe, just maybe, this was one game he wasn’t so keen on playing alone. Perhaps it was time to place his bet—not with cards, but with his heart.

And when the time came, he would show you that his feelings were not a gamble, but a certainty.

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valkyrieromanoff · 1 day ago

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God bless your dad's genetics… Dilf! Anakin x son’s girlfriend!reader

CHAPTER FOUR: POOL

synopsis: during breakfast with the Skywalker family, you try to stay away from Anakin, but it seems that one way or another, his hands always end up on you.

warning: SEXUAL CONTENT, age gap (Anakin is 44 years old and the reader is in her early 20s), cheating, alternate universe, fingering, semi-public

words: 3.1k (got a little carried away)

a/n: hello there, this chapter has sexual content, a brief introduction to my intentions for this fanfic, anyway, I hope you like it, enjoy reading ;)

The morning sun filtered through the blinds, but it couldn’t burn away the haze of last night’s memories. Sleep had been a restless labyrinth of dreams—each scene replaying Anakin Skywalker’s touch, his intense gaze, and the tension that had simmered between you. The way his hand had held your ankle, warm and firm, sending shocks of electricity through you. The way his thigh brushed against yours in the pool, the charged silence heavy with everything unspoken.

What if we hadn’t been interrupted? The thought spiraled, both thrilling and terrifying. Part of you clung to relief—you were here, unscathed, with no irreversible mistakes. But was it a mistake? A dangerous whisper in the back of your mind admitted that you’d rather regret tasting his lips than regret never knowing.

A knock at the door jolted you back to reality. Luke’s voice called, “Breakfast by the pool. You coming?”

You sighed, letting your head fall back on the pillow before dragging yourself out of bed. The white bikini you chose felt simple yet daring, enhancing your figure in a way that made you feel exposed and powerful all at once. You threw on a sheer beach cover-up and slid into your flip-flops, grabbing your bag to follow Luke.

The deck was alive with quiet conversations, the hum of voices blending with the gentle lapping of water. Tables draped in crisp linen were laden with an extravagant breakfast spread—vividly colored fruits, delicate pastries, and steaming carafes of coffee. Guests, dressed in resort-chic, mingled under the shade of large umbrellas.

“Let’s sit with Leia,” Luke suggested, already piling his plate high with cakes and fruits. You shook your head, amused, and made your own selection before following him.

“Did you sleep well?” Leia’s voice broke through your thoughts. She watched you with a curious gleam, a hint of something unspoken in her eyes.

Before you could respond, Padmé joined, carrying a cup of coffee and a small bowl of fruit. Her grace was impeccable, a calm veneer that belied the tension simmering beneath. “Good morning, my dears. May I join you?”

“Sure, Mom,” Luke said through a mouthful of pastry, pulling out a chair.

“I thought the senators would monopolize your attention.” She smirked knowingly, her teasing tone reminding you of her father.

Their banter washed over you as you scanned the deck. The entire family was here—except for Anakin. Your eyes drifted, searching, your heart thrumming with an anxious energy you couldn’t suppress. Where is he? Was there another argument? Did he and Padmé fight again? No, probably not, the senator looked so good this morning, as if she had left her husband's drunken singing in the past.

Before you could spiral further, movement at the pool caught your eye. Anakin emerged, the water cascading off him in silver rivulets. His sandy hair clung to his forehead, darkened by the moisture. He flexed his arms, hoisting himself up with an easy grace that belied the raw strength beneath.

The water sluiced off Anakin's body in mesmerizing rivulets as he climbed out of the pool, each drop glistening like liquid diamonds in the moonlight. Your eyes traced the lines of his form, drinking in every detail—the breadth of his shoulders, the definition of his chest, the trail of droplets that flowed over the ridges of his abdomen. Each breath he took caused his muscles to shift and flex, a tantalizing display of raw power barely contained beneath smooth skin.

Your mouth went dry as you watched, transfixed, unable to tear your gaze away. Desire coiled tight in your belly, hot and insistent, as forbidden images flashed through your mind. Thoughts of those strong hands on your body, caressing and claiming, igniting fires wherever they touched. Of those full lips, trailing kisses along your skin, tasting, teasing, driving you mad with want.

You squirmed on the bench, pressing your thighs together as a fresh wave of arousal flooded you. The ache between your legs was almost unbearable, your body crying out for his touch. You knew it was wrong, knew that the gulf between you—in age, in status, in relationship—made any dalliance dangerous. But in that moment, lost in the haze of lust, none of it seemed to matter.

Anakin turned, water streaming from his hair, and fixed you with a heated look, his eyes dark and knowing. A slow, wicked smile curved his lips as he walked, each step deliberately, predatory. Your breath caught in your throat, pulse hammering in your ears as he drew close.

Anakin reaches the table, the sunlight glinting off his damp skin, rivulets of water trailing down his chiseled physique. He shook his head playfully, droplets spraying in all directions, eliciting a delighted squeal from Leia and a soft, exasperated laugh from Padmé. Anakin leaned over, pressing a lingering kiss on his wife's cheek in a casual gesture of affection. Yet, over her shoulder, his eyes met yours, the intensity in their depths sending a shiver down your spine.

The weight of his gaze was palpable, a silent promise of the forbidden desires that simmered just beneath the surface. You couldn't look away, your heart racing as unspoken words passed between you. In that moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you, locked in a heated exchange that no one else seemed to notice.

You felt a rush of heat flood your cheeks, your body responding to the unspoken invitation in his eyes. The air between you crackled with tension, electric and dangerous. You knew you should look away, should put an end to this dangerous game before it went too far. But you were drawn to him, moth to flame, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his presence.

Just as quickly as it had begun, the moment ended. Anakin straightened, his attention returning to his family, the mask of the dutiful husband and father slipping back into place. But you couldn't shake the feeling of his eyes on you, the memory of that shared look searing itself into your mind.

As you sat there, surrounded by the laughter and chatter of his family, your thoughts drifted to the stolen moments you'd shared, the forbidden touches and heated glances. You knew it was wrong, you knew that the gulf between you was too wide to bridge. But in that moment, lost in the haze of desire, none of it seemed to matter. All that mattered was him, and the promise of pleasure that lurked in his eyes.

“So, who’s up for a swim?” Anakin’s voice carried an edge of playful energy, his eyes twinkling as he leaned back, stealing a grape from Padmé’s bowl. He popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly, his gaze lingering on the group.

Leia glanced at the pool, her brown eyes thoughtful. “Maybe later,” she said, absentmindedly tracing patterns on her plate with her fork.

Padmé shook her head politely, her smile a practiced mask of composure.

“Not right now, dad.” Luke echoed her, grumbling about being busy, already busy on his phone.

You bit into a ripe strawberry, the juice slipping down your lip. Anakin’s eyes followed the drop, his tongue darting out to lick his own lips. The air seemed to thicken between you, his gaze like a touch.

“And you, daughter-in-law?” His voice dropped a note lower, his smile teasing as he ran a hand through his still-wet hair. Droplets shimmered against the sunlight. “Want to get wet?”

Your breath caught. You looked away, biting your lower lip, a war raging inside. The pool beckoned, a tempting escape from the oppressive heat—and from your own tangled thoughts. But there was danger here, the kind that whispered to your most reckless desires. Could you trust yourself not to fall deeper into something you couldn’t undo?

“I don’t…” The words stuck in your throat, but before you could decide, Luke’s voice cut in.

“Come on, I know you’ve been dying to get in that pool since we arrived.” He elbowed you, grinning. “Enjoy it. You deserve to relax.”

If only he knew. Each word felt like a push toward the edge, toward the very temptation you were trying to resist.

“Okay,” you murmured, your voice soft, almost reluctant. You stood, slipping off your beach cover-up. The white bikini clung to you, and you felt Anakin’s eyes trace every line of your body. His gaze was intense, appreciative in a way that made your skin flush and your pulse quicken.

He offered his hand, the gesture simple yet loaded with unspoken promises. You took it, his grip warm and firm, sending a spark up your arm. The conversation at the table resumed behind you, distant now, like the murmuring of waves.

Padmé’s eyes flicked toward you both, a shadow of something unnameable crossing her face as Anakin led you toward the pool. She watched for a moment, her expression unreadable, before turning back to Leia’s voice.

The deck’s heat faded into the cool shimmer of the pool, but the fire inside you only burned hotter. Each step toward the water felt like a step toward something inevitable. You knew you should stop, pull back—but with Anakin’s hand in yours, restraint felt like a distant memory.

Anakin jumped into the pool, the splash sending a cascade of cool droplets toward you. A soft gasp escaped your lips as the water hit your skin, a shiver running down your spine. The contrast between the scorching deck and the sudden chill sent goosebumps racing over your body.

“Come on, get in,” he called, his voice low and inviting, as he glided effortlessly through the water. The pool was deserted, the breakfast chatter on the deck fading into a distant hum.

You hesitated, biting your lip, the anticipation a knot in your stomach. Finally, you slid to the edge, dipping your toes in before pushing off. The cold water enveloped you, a sharp contrast to the heat still lingering in your skin. You surfaced, breathless, your hair slicked back, droplets clinging to your lashes.

Anakin watched you, a slow, amused smile playing at the corners of his lips. His eyes lingered on the way you wrinkled your nose, the tiny tremors of goosebumps across your arms. He swam toward you, the water parting easily around his broad shoulders.

“Cold?” he teased, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to vibrate through the water. He stopped just inches away, the edge of the pool pressing cool and firm against your back.

His closeness made the air feel thin, the water warmer. “Need me to warm you up?” The words were low, almost a purr, his eyes glinting with something dangerous and inviting.

Your heart thudded in your chest as you glanced over your shoulder, your eyes darting to the deck. The others were still engrossed in their conversations, oblivious. The fear of being caught tangled with something else—something dark and thrilling.

Anakin followed your gaze, leaning in until his breath brushed against your ear. “No one’s paying attention to us,” he whispered, his voice a warm caress that sent a shiver down your spine.

The pool seemed to shrink around you, the world narrowing to just the space between you and him. The water lapped gently against your skin, but it was his presence, his nearness, that set you alight, a fire that no amount of cold water could extinguish.

Anakin reached out, his fingers grazing your shoulder, the feather-light touch sending shockwaves through your body. You trembled under his cares, the sensation amplified by the cool water lapping at your skin. He smiled smugly, his eyes darkening with appreciation at your reaction.

His hand slid down your arm, fingertips skimming the curve of your shoulder, dipping dangerously close to the edge of your bikini top. Your breath caught in your throat as his touch brushed the side of your breast, the brief contact sending sparks of pleasure radiating through your chest. He continued his exploration, his hand gliding down your spine, his touch a sensual caress that left a trail of fire in his wake.

When he reached your hip, his hand cupped your belly, the warmth of his palm seeping into your skin, igniting a hunger deep within you. You were frozen, pinned in place by the intensity of his gaze, afraid that any movement, any sound, would break the spell and make this moment fade away.

His thumb traced lazy circles on your thigh, the touch both soothing and maddening, teasing you with its proximity to where you think to be touched. Lower and lower his hand crept, until he was skimming the edge of your bikini bottoms. You bit your lip, stifling the moan that threatened to escape, praying that Padmé and the others were too thickened in their own conversations to notice the charged exchange playing out mere feet away.

"You're blushing, darling," Anakin murmured, his voice a low purr that sent shivers dancing down your spine. His eyes flickered to your flushed cheeks, the corners of his mouth curving into a knowing smile. "Flattered by my attention, are we?"

You couldn't respond, couldn't find the words to express the maelstrom of emotions swirling inside you.

Anakin's thumb rolled over your most intimate place through the thin fabric of your bikini bottoms, the pressure igniting a fire deep within you. You bit your lip to stifle a moan, your breathing growing ragged as he caressed you, stoking the flames of your desire. He smiled, pleased by the effect he was having on you, his eyes dark with lust and possession.

"Shhh, angel," he murmured against your hair, his breath hot on your skin. "You don't want them to hear you."

His fingers deftly pushed your bikini bottoms aside, exposing your sensitive folds to the cool water. A gasp escaped your lips at the sudden contact, your body trembling with anticipation. Anakin's fingers teased your most intimate places, his touch both gentle and exciting, building the tension within you with each deliberate stroke.

"So wet already," he purred, his voice a low, seductive growl. "Is this all for me, angel?"

You couldn't respond, lost in the haze of pleasure as his fingers danced over your sensitive flesh. The water lapped at your bodies, hiding your illicit activities from the prying eyes around you. Anakin's other hand gripped your hip, holding you in place as he continued his sensual torture, his fingers circling your clit, dipping into your entrance, teasing you with the promise of more.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice husky with desire. "I want to see your face when I touch you."

Your eyes fluttered open, meeting his intense gaze. The heat in his eyes feels a shiver down your spine, the forbidden nature of your encounter only heightens your arousal. Anakin's fingers moved faster, pressing harder, his touch relentless in its pursuit of your pleasure.

Your body tensed, coiling tighter with each deliberate stroke, the tension building to an unbearable peak. Anakin's fingers moved faster, pressing harder. "That's it, angel," he encouraged, his voice low and seductive. "Let me feel you"

Your thighs trembled, your hands gripping the edge of the pool for dear life as he brought you to the edge. His eyes never left yours, drinking in every micro-expression, every quivering breath. The intensity of his gaze only heightened your pleasure, the forbidden nature of your encounter adding fuel to the fire that consumed you.

"You're so close, aren't you?" he purred, his thumb circling your clit with maddening precision. "I can feel how much you want it, how much you need it."

A whimper escaped your lips, muffled by your fist as you fought to contain the impending explosion. Your walls clenched around his probing fingers, desperate for more, for the release that hovered just out of reach. Anakin's eyes darkened with lust, a triumphant smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he watched you unravel.

"Come for me, angel," he commanded, his voice a low, authoritative growl. "Let go, give yourself to me."

With a final, powerful thrust of his fingers, he feels you tumbling into heaven, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your back arched, a silent scream tearing from your throat as ecstasy consumed you. Anakin held you steady, his fingers still moving, prolonging your pleasure until you shook with the force of it.

Slowly, he withdrew his hand, bringing his fingers to his lips. Your eyes widened as he sucked them into his mouth, his tongue swirling around the digits coated in your essence. He groaned, the sound lost beneath the splash of the water, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Delicious”

Your heart raced, desire and shame warring within you as you watched Anakin walk away, his casual demeanor at odds with the intensity of what had just transpired. The casualness with which he winked at you, as if he hadn't just brought you to the brink of ecstasy, felt a thrill of excitement through you, even as it filled you with a sick sense of longing.

You glanced at the table where the Skywalker family sat, oblivious to the forbidden attempt that had just taken place mere feet away. Padmé laughed at something Leia said, her eyes bright with maternal love. Your stomach twisted with guilt, the weight of your betrayal threatening to crush you. You had allowed your desire to override your better judgment, risking everything for a fleeting moment of pleasure.

Anakin's parting words echoed in your mind, his mischievous tone sending a shiver down your spine. "See you later, angel. I still want to taste you in my mouth." The promise in his voice was clear, a tantalizing hint of what was to come.

You knew you should put an end to this dangerous game, should focus on Luke, he was your best friend, after all, and you were lusting after his father. But the memory of Anakin's touch, the way he made you feel, was too powerful to resist.

With a heavy sigh, you ducked beneath the surface of the water, hoping to cool the burning desire that still coursed through your veins. But even as you submerged yourself, you knew it was futile. Your desire for Anakin only grew stronger with each passing moment, a forbidden fruit too tempting to ignore.

As you surfaced, you caught Anakin's eye from across the pool. He smiled, a secret, knowing look that felt a thrill of anticipation through you. You looked away, your heart pounding in your chest, your body aching for his touch.

You knew you were playing with fire, but at that moment, you couldn't bring yourself to care. All that mattered was the promise of more stolen moments, more forbidden pleasures, and the man who could make you forget everything but the touch of his hands on your skin.

#anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #dilf anakin x reader #dilf anakin #alternative wolrd #star wars #hayden christensen

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calirph · 2 days ago

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𝐇𝐀𝐘𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐊𝐘𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑/𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐕𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

and the color red. Red is a primary color. It represents passion, warmth, and sexuality, but it is also known as a color that stands for danger, violence, and aggression.

Red is the first color that humans mastered, fabricated, reproduced, and broke down into different shades. It is also one of the earliest colors used by artists during the prehistoric period. Throughout the Middle Ages, red had a religious significance. It was the color of the blood of Christ and the fires of Hell. In the Renaissance period, red colors were supposed to draw the viewer’s attention to the most influential figures in a painting.

Red is the color of love, which involves passion, sexuality, romance, and lust. It communicates strong feelings of attraction that can energize and increase a person’s heart rate.

Compared to the rest of the colors, red provokes the most potent emotions, both healthy and unhealthy. It makes people feel dominant and powerful by boosting their self-esteem. In addition, red is a bold color, which makes one stand out from the crowd and influences the way others see them.

It involves the expression of intense interest and enthusiasm about something. Red excites our emotions, which is why we exert effort to finish a task or achieve a particular goal, especially if it’s something that interests us.

While red heightens passion, it also increases tendencies toward aggression and confrontational impulses. Red has a psychological relationship with anger and rage. Red can elicit unreasonable, heated reactions.

#anakin skywalker #hayden christensen #darth vader #swedit #star wars #anakinedit #◟ ⋆ out › cali gifs.

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lyuenger · 2 days ago

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Same! I actually sketched out a similar pose this morning.

I love yours! It is so sweet. These boys deserve to be happy.

Below the cut: a screenshot of the pose I was working on that I sent to a friend earlier today

This is a good example of my process. I figure out the pose, add some color roughly, then next I would start working on a section adding real color, details and shading. Often I hop around sections, working on whatever part catches my attention or seems more interesting to me in the moment.

This one I was going to toy with what clothes they have on, and was even leaning to no shoes (like the OP!!), but didn't want to sketch feet yet... I'm so close to done with the art from the last episode.

Dorian and Orym go on their own adventure after the big fight ✨manifest✨

#dorym #cr fanart #dorian storm #orym savior blade of the tempest #cr speculation #lovely work OP

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ghostsandfools · 1 day ago

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Detailed Algebralien Society

Guys… I’m REALLLYYYYYY bored……. And I’ve been thinking about Algebraliens a lot, so I wrote this detailed analysis of how I think their society works. But it’s like, LONG. Like it’s REALLY long, so not click read more if you aren’t prepared to read an essay length post of ideas about number people

Okay, I think Math is like their version of Science if that makes any sense. The laws of their world are defined by math the same way science defines ours. I think maybe math textbooks would be kind of like religious texts to them too, like there are different ways tot think about math and it’s principles (so basically when Two said they didn’t like math it was kind of like a metaphor for them renouncing religion in a way…)

And then obviously there’s the equations themselves. To me addition just seems like fusion from Steven Universe, where they become one being.

Multiplication is like cloning. I think the algebraliens would reproduce like normal humans and multiplication is more of just a way to clone themself. So like, if you did 7 x 4 instead of getting 28 you would just get 4 identical 7s.

I know what I said about multiplication sounds basically the exact same to division but I don’t think division splits you into two equal clones. I think it splits your personality in half. So like, when 14 divided by 2 each of the 7s got separate parts of their personality, yknow?

That just leaves subtraction… Subtraction actually seems kind of dark- I think it would be kind of like division, except it just takes parts of you away. So, division takes part of your personality and puts it into each of your factors, meanwhile subtraction just deteriorates your memories and personality until you can hardly function anymore. So like dementia basically-

Besides that, I think other types of equations are possible but the algebraliens haven’t figured out how to do them yet. So like, tetration and stuff is mentioned in their religious math textbooks but they don’t actually know how to do all that

When it comes to genetics I don’t think it lines up perfectly with how math actually works. So like, random example, if 6 and 9 had a kid it probably wouldnt be 15 because then numbers would just keep getting bigger and bigger. Instead, I think genetics would determine a number’s color and whether they’re even or odd. So, since 6 is even and 9 is odd, their kid would probably be an odd number that’s some shade of blue or white, but which number it is isn’t guaranteed.

Along with that, I think they’d differentiate by last names. Since there can be multiple of the same number, you’d be able to tell them apart by their color and last name. There are probably 100s of each number running around, but it doesn’t get confusing because of the last name thing. Along with that, when a number multiplies or divides each of their duplicates takes on their last name, and when numbers add together the sum gets both of their last names.

Algebraliens are known for their ability to travel through space. The equation playground is on Earth. So far we know that 4, X, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, and 14 live on Earth. 2 and 1 both came from space (ooooo, they’re totally exes with history together but I’ll make a post about that some other timeeeee) and we know 15 lives on some other planet because when 6 and 9 went to visit them they had to drive through space (9 is such a skilled driver ^^). I also don’t know if 3 lives on Earth because I forgor :]

This raises the question of what the algebraliens home planet is like or if they even have one. 15’s cabin MAY be located on their original planet, or maybe 15 lives on some completely different unrelated planet then the one they’re actually from. The lore is really blurry about this stuff :c

What we DO know is that the algebraliens are scattered across multiple planets (and maybe moons? Since 1 is so tied to the moon, and they crashed or Earth with the moon).

Since their math based religion is such an integral part of their lives, maybe they have some sacred land somewhere that we’re yet to see? Maybe??? I don’t know????

it’s like 1 AM right now and this is just me word vomiting all my dumb ideas about algebraliens-

If anyone actually took the time to read all this maybe you can share some of your own ideas and we can talk about number aliens together please 👉👈

#bfdi #algebralien #xfohv #bfb #tpot

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burningcheese-merchant · 14 hours ago

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Mythological Inspirations: Pepper Jack Cookie Edition

So, where did Pepper Jack come from?

Sex, you dumbass child ❌ (yes but actually no)

A witch's oven ❌ (yes but actually no)

Some spicy cheese, a mythical bird, and an elephant man ✅

Behold, the latest installment of "Merchant rants for 10 hours about how far they went designing some dumbass fankids" (also I fumbled coloring and shading his wings, I am deeply sorry for that)

Like I said before, I did some research into both Egyptian and Hindu mythology while thinking up these critters. Golden Cheese and Burning Spice take after some gods/myths themselves, so I thought "why not keep that sentiment up with their children?"

Golden takes after Ra, Egyptian god of the sun and leader of the Egyptian pantheon. With this in mind... Pepper Jack takes after the bennu bird, a godlike being that embodies the soul of Ra himself.

The bennu is/was most often depicted as a blue, gray and/or white heron (mostly blue). So, Jack's wings are likewise meant to be blue (with some gray and white mixed in)

The bennu bird is believed to have been the original phoenix, even predating the Greek one. It lights itself ablaze in the early morning and rises from its own ashes afterwards, thus symbolizing the dawn of a new day, as well as creation and rebirth in general. Jack can also light himself on fire, without the fire harming him at all. He can't control it very well when he's young, but he will have mastered it by the time he's an adult

One famous creation myth involves the bennu flying over the primordial waters of chaos, perching on a rock, and letting out a great cry - and with this cry, it determined what it and what isn't, and began the cycle of time and created the world itself. Mimicking this myth, I had Jack be born exactly at dawn, on a rock by the river (I also went ahead and added a Nile equivalent to the Golden Cheese Kingdom lol), with the sun rising immediately after he cried out for the first time. Almost like he summoned it personally...

A common funeral practice in Ancient Egypt was giving the deceased a heart-shaped amulet with the bennu's image engraved in it, as it was meant to be a protective charm to guide and guard the spirits of the dead; the bennu was considered a patron of death as well as life, and was invoked/prayed to to ensure safe passage through the afterlife for the deceased. Thus, Jack wears his own little protection amulet, tucked beneath his collar - a handcrafted, blessed gift from GCK clergy

Spice is based on Shiva, Hindu god of destruction and part of a holy trinity (creation, preservation, destruction). Not only does he have a wife, Parvati (whom he's madly in love with and wholly devoted to), they have two children (which I did not know prior to creating the kids, that was a cool coincidence lol). Jack takes after Ganesha, elder son of Shiva, god of wisdom and good fortune.

Jack shares Ganesha's cleverness and love of knowledge, and similarly possesses a good amount of both (although Jack may not necessarily be wise, not as a child haha)

Ganesha is seen as a custodian of esoteric knowledge in particular, with a special knack for astrology. So, I gave Jack a hobby/interest in astrology and astronomy himself, which he pursues for fun on his own time (and that ended up making him a fantastic navigator, bar none; as long as he can see the sky, he'll never get lost)

Ganesha is celebrated as the remover of obstacles, literal and figurative. Jack... well, he's more of the sidestepper of obstacles lol. He works smart, not hard. If he can find a way around something using only his wits, he will

Ganesha has a sweet tooth, and his favorite food is modak (Indian sweet dumpling). So I gave Jack a sweet tooth, too, and likewise made his favorite food modak. (Jack is a fucking menace when it comes to modak. If any appear in his line of sight, expect it to vanish soon. He's like a crackhead with those things)

The Om symbol 🕉️, AKA the sacred sound/mantra that has a billion different meanings but is generally associated with universal harmony and consciousness, is also often associated with Ganesha (and Shiva, too!). So Jack is getting an Om tattoo on his wrist (or the back of his hand, idk haven't decided) when he's older.

Lots of jewelry in Indian culture and Hinduism, from what I've seen. So I took the liberty of giving Jack a little elephant pendant (gift from a Wild Spice artisan), meant to reference Ganesha idol pendants. It's also hanging from his neck and hidden under his collar, same as the amulet

Jack's beloved elephant toy, Pudding, is also supposed to be a nod to Ganesha lol

Sorry they look like ass, still a level 0 artist here lol. At least Pudding looks better here than he did before

Ok I'm done rambling. TL;DR I think way too hard about stuff. I will hopefully improve as an artist if I keep pushing myself no matter how much my doodles annoy me because they're amateurish at best. I will do Matar Paneer's inspirations post tomorrow probably. If you actually read through all of this, lol sucker thank you for coming to my TED Talk and eating my word salad

#btw. That “phoenix” thing? Jack is going to EARN that title someday. I'll tell you how eventually...#Also. Does Jack look better this time? Did my art improve a little? I feel like it did. I hope so #also also if you take Pudding from Jack he will cry. Doesn't matter how old he is or if he tries to hide it #cookie run kingdom #burning spice cookie #golden cheese cookie #burningcheese #goldenspice #cookie run fankid #cookie run oc #pepper jack cookie

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daydreamerwonderkid · 8 months ago

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It's been 1 month since Jason's last international incident.

Obligatory click for better quality

You do NOT have permission to repost my art.

Meme references under cut

And, of course:

#dreamer doodles #gintama batfam #jason todd #red hood #bruce wayne #batman #hal jordan #green lantern #i had the dumb idea #that the justice league did a bunch of #promotional motivational posters #and that jason had a designated cell on the watchtower #where a bunch of their leftover posters are hanging #idk it made me laugh #i also stared at a lot of justice league animated screenshots #to figure out the coloring and shading for this one #idk how well i did

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oliveee-star · 3 days ago

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I wanna elaborate on some of these really quick so let me ramble 🙏🏻

1) loves oatmeal specifically WITH cinnamon and raisins in it. And it can't be too runny or too thick and it can't be cold and she has to use her favorite spoon when she makes it because it's her favorite food and so they go together right?

2) only likes a very specific shade of yellow. She likes the super pastel yellow that's the same color of the hairclips Pandora puts in her hair. It's the best yellow to her because it's not too bright and it doesn't pop out/scream at her but it still gives off that happy warmth vibe that she literally embodies and I love her so much oh my god

3) she only likes potions when it's taught by Slughorn. After Hogwarts, she considers going into something with potion-making involved, so she goes to classes for super complex shit that she didn't learn in school. But she can't stand it. For a while she can't figure out why, because she's always had an affinity for this sort of thing, always loved it, etc, etc. But then she realizes that it's the professor. He's short-tempered. Stern. He doesn't negotiate. And Lily, having grown up with Petunia and—though she never really wanted to admit it—having needed "accommodations" her whole life, especially in school, loathes this. She misses Sluggy, who was more of the clumsy, warm, grandfather figure who passed out lemon drops and was never on time.

4) her literal obsession with ABBA has gotten out of hand. She has all the album records in her little display case in her room and she puts them on her record player while she gets ready. She has posters. She sketches little drawings. She's gone to some concerts. She LOVESSS them. She's like a Swiftie but with ABBA.

And now I'd like to add a few more things.

1) loves Eskimo kisses. They're her favorite thing. She does them with Pandora all the time—sometimes even Reggie, because God can strike me down if they're not close like that. And sometimes Pandora will kiss all over her face, her lips touching every little freckle. And she loves when she kisses her temple. (AHHHH THEY'RE SO CUTE I LOVE THEM) and whenever Lily is feeling insecure, Pandora will lay down in bed with her and ask "what do you not like about your body, baby?" and then Lily will give her answer and Pandora will literally just worship that part of her with kisses, massages, affirmations, anything really, to make her feel better. And then she'll make her her favorite tea.

2) looks good in anything. I feel like Lily wouldn't really have a specific style. Her closet is a mess of goth and hippie and clean girl and softie and kawaii and flannel obsessed lesbian and emo and scene and she looks amazing in ALL OF IT. Lily Evans changes her aesthetic day to day and does it like a fucking queen boss bitch. The only thing about clothes is that they always have to be the right material and her favorite fabric and she always has to be wearing either compression socks or those fuzzy socks you get at Christmas. If the heels on the socks are colored differently than the rest of the sock then the heel has to perfectly line up with her own heel but also still be tight enough so that she doesn't feel the need to pull them up all the time.

3) LOVES bugs. Anything bug related and she's on it. It's one of her special interests. She has posters of all the different beetle species and she has an ant farm/terrarium thing on her shelf and half of her clothes are covered in butterflies and she's named all of the dragonflies that land in her garden. She's besties with the cicadas. (She used magic on them to make them talk because she's one of the brightest witches of her age and she's just like that)

5) her middle name is Jane. That's all I have to say.

Thank you for listening to my ramblings 😭

My Lily Evans hcs!

she/her bisexual

plus-sized :)

freckles EVERYWHERE. like EVERYWHERE.

smells like pear, sandalwood, lillies, and dried rain

allergic to gluten

LOVVVVVESSSS oatmeal

fav color is yellow

on the autism spectrum

potions goddess