#unless u want more/i can find more art }

[puppyeared]

if escape rooms as team building exercises became popular im not sure if id be more excited or terrified

[hellofears]

wasn't me no one in this home of mine voted for anything of the sort and most likely anyone I know didn't either. I forget how many ppl live in the uk sometimes peace and love to the william wanters well and truly

[rweoutofthewoods]

fanfic/fandom ettiquite guide

Okay, I've seen some things recently that make me think there is some need to make a master post of some general fandom and fic ettiquite just because some people may not know and I think there's a huge wave of fanfic becoming more mainstream especially on apps like tiktok.

If you don't like it, don't engage with it!! I think this above all, is the golden rule of fandom. The internet is made for you to be able to mute, hide, and censor things you don't like. DO THAT! don't make a career off of hating things. This goes along with the three laws of fandom, which u should check out FIRST OF ALL.

DON'T GATEKEEP!! If you're posting about a fic, art, ANYTHING link it, credit it! Don't post a tiktok about a fic and then refuse to give the name. Not only are you failing to credit the creators of this content, but you're taking away from the fact that fandom is a COMMUNITY where content is meant for everyone.

Ao3 is an archive. You're going to see things you might not like or even find offensive or uncomfortable. But fanfic is not meant to be censored. Ao3 is made to be unfiltered, people can post anything and everything. Posting fics on other sites simply to shame their content not only brings MORE attention to it, but it's pointless. If you want a website that is censored go to wattpad. And of course, if you don't like it DON'T READ. You can filter your tags and warnings on ao3 so it won't show you that content.

Along those lines LEARN HOW TO USE AO3. There is no algorithm, it is not tiktok. You don't need to censor words in your tags. Your fics are not magically getting pushed out to people. Make sure you're using "person 1/person 2" for romantic relationships and "person 1 & person 2" for non-romantic relationships. Make sure things like non-con and underage are tagged under the warnings. AND AS A READER, know how to filter ships and tags to find the content you want. You can filter by kudos, certain tags, exclude certain relationships or characters etc. USE IT.

Do not create placeholder fics or other "non fics" on ao3. This is against their terms of service. You can (and probably will) be reported, this annoys people endlessly. We don't want to find a fic and open it to see "I haven't written this yet, sorry!" JUST SAVE A DRAFT OR DO IT IN A DOCUMENT? this seems like way to rack up hits, and it comes across as disingenuous, I don't see a real valid reason to make placeholders.

HOW TO WRITE AN ACCEPTABLE COMMENT: long is not important. A simple "loved this!" will make an author happy. DO NOT say any variation of "update pls?" regardless of how nice you think it is. Authors update when they can.I'm not the only author I've seen unhappy with this. JUST WAIT, either it will be updated or it won't, and either way you will live. If you have nothing nice to say about a fic?? MOVE ON. Don't leave a hate comment.

Do not rate or publicly shit on fanfic! A lot of authors know many people, and the chances of that author seeing whatever you're saying about their work is very high. If you don't like it, click off and read something else. If it's still living rent-free in your mind, that sounds like fan behavior to me. And there is no standard fics are supposed to meet, don't rate them.

Don't cross-post fics. Don't put fics on other sites, don't put translation on other sites. DON'T DO ANYTHING with a fic without checking with the author first. On that note, also don't post fics on GoodReads etc. unless an author explicitly says it's okay.

IF YOU DO NOT MARK YOUR BOOKMARKS AS PRIVATE AUTHORS CAN SEE THEM!! If you're going to say anything that isn't positive, you better mark that as private or better yet, move on. Don't say anything on a public bookmark you wouldn't want the author to read.

YOU CANNOT PROFIT OFF OF FANFIC, don't sell bound fics! Don't bind fics if the intention is to sell them. You're potentially creating a lawsuit for the authors of these fics and putting the existence of fanfic in danger. I've seen multiple authors debating taking fics down because of binding issues, just don't do it. AND IF YOU'RE BUYING BOUND FICS YOU'RE PART OF THE PROBLEM. it's selfish and I wish bad karma upon you.

You wouldn't think I'd have to say this but don't plagiarize or use AI to create fics/art etc. firstly making ai write something IS a form of plagiarism. bUT ALSO just write your own content. If you can't, then writing fics etc. is just not for you. No shame about it!

DON'T ASK AUTHORS TO BETA FOR YOU!! You wouldn't believe how many people have asked me to beta their fics for them, I AM NOT A BETA. I HAVE a beta because my proofreading skills are shit. If someone wants to beta they will offer, or go find a blog or somewhere where people are looking to beta. Like @needabeta You can even make a post asking around for a beta, but don't go bug your favorite authors to proofread your fics.

Really just don't harass authors. Of course, don't be afraid to send nice dms, asks, or comments if their inbox is open, but don't spam them especially if they don't reply. Respect boundaries! Don't send nasty anons, everyone knows this is a sign of jealousy and obsession. You're only succeeding in making yourself look bad. Ask yourself why is this author living rent-free in your mind, hm??

If you don't like a ship, stay away from the content geared towards that ship. There's no reason for you to be in people's inbox harassing them over a ship. It's never that deep. If you truly hate it so much, go consume the content for ships you DO like.

Stay grounded. This goes to both fic authors and readers alike. Hits and popularity are not the mark of a good fic. Getting a lot of hits doesn't mean it's good and NOT getting many doesn't mean it's bad. I'm tired of seeing tiktoks asking "so what's the next big fic?" WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE A "BIG FIC"? go look through the ao3 tag and find something you like to read, it doesn't have to be what everyone else is reading.

Headcanons are not law. People can think whatever they want about the characters. If you disagree with someone's hc, just move on... and just because a headcanon is popular, doesn't mean everyone has to abide by it. Be creative!

Don't treat artists and authors like celebs! We're all in this together! We're all losers who like the same characters and ships. Of course, compliment and be kind to all creators because we put a lot of time and effort into creating fan content for you all, but don't worship anyone. Don't treat them weirdly or make a post like "omg x followed me!" that's a bit weird. If you want to be excited, dm your friends and giggle together, but acting like authors and artists etc. are celebs only creates the room for people to stop seeing them as normal people and start acting rude or entitled. And many people are uncomfortable with it!!

TLDR; stop creating so much negativity in fandom spaces. At least in MY fandom it's just constantly shitting on ships, fics, art. It's hate anons, antis, and constant fighting about every headcanon. I'M TIRED OF IT! Learn to filter out content you don't want to see, and move on with your life instead of spreading more negativity.

If you have anything you think I should add shoot me a comment or an ask and I will add it! I'm sure I didn't get everything :) this mostly applies to my own experience being in the hp/marauders fandom for a good 10+ years, and I'm sure it varies slightly from fandom to fandom.

[voidzphere]

☆ MASTERPOST // INTRO !!!

[ ALL THE BLOGZ I RUN: @killzbitezz (sideblog) @killersanz (killer sans askblog) @dailykillerr (daily killer sans that i have not posted on yet erm) ]

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

╭───────────── * ˚ ✦

hii !! im killer, but my friendz + mootz call me killz !! welcome to my blog ^_^ i love u too brutiee @mewobrute <33 (more stuff under the cut!!)

╰───────────── ✧.* ⋆

✩ ABOUT ME !!! >_<

FIRST OFF, HERE ARE SOME OF MY FLAGZ !!! :3 ↓↓↓

my main prnz are he/it/bite, but i alzo use vamp/fang/bone/skull/blood/gore/knife ! (plz dont refer 2 me w they/them)

my special interest is undertale + utmv ! (if that waznt obv enough..)

i love love LOVE horror gamez .. some of my favz rn are kinitopet, imscared, house, ddlc, rental, and bonnie's bakery :]

I HAVE A PERSONA ! u can find itz ref sheet here :] i uzually draw myself as either him or juzt killer sans !!

I LOOOVE MY MOOTZ, FRIENDZ, AND PARTNER <333

some of my current hyperfixationz are fionna & cake, smg4, regretevator, atsv, invader zim, adventure time & dialtown !

i have a guestbook !! leave a little note for me to read if u want :3

some of my fav bandz/artistz are talking heads, misfits, bad brains, rio romeo, lemon demon, will wood, pixies, melanie martinez, alex g, 6arelyhuman, goreshit, sex pistols, potsu, the living tombstone, etc. !

some of my fav songz are alien blues, vampire culture, laplace's angel, dr sunshine is dead, seriously?, genius of love, at the movies, charlie's inferno, etc. !

✩ my tagz !

#killz art - my art !! :3

#killz rb - reblogz

#killz yapz - my yap sessionz

#killz answerz - answerz to my askz

#vent kinda - my (kinda) ventz

#tag/ask game - self-explanatory

#killersanz - stuff related to my killer sans ask blog !

#killz fingie doodlez - stuff i drew w my finger :3

#killz srb - self reblogz

#killz sans - my sonaaa ^_^

✩ dni

basic dni criteria

istz + phobez

epiciller, /r + /sx errorink, etc.

pro/dark/comship (or whatever you call your weirdo selvez..)

irl doublez (unless i knew u beforehand!!) (im irlz of killer, reaper, & epic.)

minorz who post nsfw cuz ion wanna see that shit man go do ur homework

slander of my interestz/special interestz + hyperfixationz like stfu

mockery of me and/or my traitz (i.e my typing quirkz)

unwanted criticism, especially if i didnt ask for it. stfu part 2

anyone i've had drama with + my exez (fuck you)

HOMESTUCK. and hazbin hotel + helluva boss (tbh i dont rlly care if you like these mediaz and interact with me, just dont talk abt it in front of me yknow)

✩ byi + boundariez

i have autism + adhd, BPD, & typing quirkz !! tone indicatorz are optional when talking to me, but i appreciate them.

i'm an irl + fictkin ! i have a few c-linkz as well.

im not a roleplay account btw /srs

my art requestz are alwayz open ! can't promise i'll alwayz do them, but they help me out with inspiration though :3

DO NOT REPOST MY ART. i will find you

if you use my art, credit me. you dont alwayz gotta ask me before usin my art, but i appreciate it if you do !!

my askbox + dmz are alwayz open !! i love meetin new people n gettin to know em :] im fine w tagz, commentz, & spam-likez/reblogz too !

i might accidentally spam-like (i get too excited).

just because i make suggestive jokez and im hypersexual doez not mean i'm not sex-replused from time to time.

im a DID system and use i/me pronounz. i don't talk about my DID often becauze i see it as unimportant to other ppl.

i'm nonhuman !! plz do not refer to me as human. i prefer skeleton termz over everything else. im ur favorite homozexual cryptid-skeleton :3

i tend to ramble, say thingz that are out-of-pocket, have trouble with volume control/typing in all capz, make inappropriate jokez, flirt with & tease my close friendz, etc. if u ever find any of this bothering, plz inform me and i will stop.

i love drama + gossip, i will argue with strangerz on the internet just to spite them bc i find it funny ^_^ (only if theyre in the wrong and deserve it.)

i have strong opinionz and will shit-talk you if you're a weirdo who deservez it.

my blog, my rulez <3

★ last updated: 10/5/24

[chuuya-kisser]

THEORY TIME THEORY TIME

ok. so. first of all FYODOR FCKIN DOSTOEVSKY I LIKE U AND ALL BUT???? REMAIN DEAD??? U JESUS FR??

ANYWAYS ignoring that

so bc i adore skk to hell and back obviously im gonna explore their dynamic first

what kills me is how familiar they are with each other. they arent insulting each other in every sentence, which is still alright. and what struck me the most is how much dazai seems to trust chuuya. more so than anyone.

so far we know that dazai isn't exactly the most open person around. his entire cheerful joking persona is a facade, a fake. what you see is usually only what he wants to show you. his real emotions? ive only seen them very rarely, if at all. now look at these

the way chuuya says what he does implies that he is already used to this habit of dazai's, which is only possible if dazai did this in his mafia days, AND even then, he was open and willing enough to let chuuya see it and know that dazai was anxious. which means that even before mersault, before dazai left the mafia, he and chuuya atleast were that close that the usually closed-off, know-everything demon prodigy could show his worry to his partner, multiple times.

i think that over here, dazai really isnt hiding his emotions. you can see the shock and worry on his face and in his eyes clearly as he puts the pieces together. not only that, hes also laying out parts of his plan to chuuya, in addition to his theories. which he rarely does unless im wrong about that (its possible). he isnt worried about chuuya using his emotions and weaknesses against him, because he trusts him enough, although i think the trust between them was already shown when both of them fake-killed each other.

its easy to see the panic in his eyes, and personally i feel that this is him showing a bit of weakness, which is perfectly alright. the thing is that again, hes letting chuuya see this. I very much doubt that he would have let down his facade enough to show this to absolutely anyone else.

also the poor guy literally looks so stressed out here give him a goddamn break asagiri

aaaaand now chuuya.

now what strikes me is that even in the last chapter/s, chuuya has multiple times tried to reassure dazai that fyodor is indeed dead to try and calm down dazai's worries. this can also be him also wanting a damn break but anyways.

and these panels. while many ppl are agreeing that hes just sitting there being a pretty boy while dazai tows through helicopter debris (and i agree), and definitely chuuyas sadistic streak when it comes to dazai is showing itself clearly, its often been seen in both the official arts and animanga that whenever working together, chuuya always covers dazai's blind spots.

think about it. dazai has his back turned towards everything. if someone launched a surprise attack on him at this moment, the chances of him dodging, finding out abt it in time is pretty low. chuuya is directly behind dazai. i got this idea from another post i saw, but what if this is also chuuya covering for dazai yet again? protecting him?

anyways thats it folks maybe ill make another post on jesus- i meant fyodor soon

[cyanidas]

hey this is actually one of the hardest things ive ever tried to do with my time as an artist. how the FUCK do etsy/shopvee/redbubble artists do this for a LIVING????

BIG News: I'm trying to make some really huge changes, and I'll need your help.

Before I grant any details, I gotta preface everything with the reality of our situation; Jay, the sole breadwinner, has been a victim of yet another "new hire surprise fire". He was booted without warning, written or verbal, about two weeks ago.

Evidently this is very common in the production wood/metalworking industry, otherwise this wouldn't have happened so many fucking times, because he's a great person with amazing work ethic and that's not just my bias talking - most of his coworkers have felt the exact same way as me across every company he's worked for.

Of course, THAT DAY we wasted no time in reaching out to contacts and applying for mountains of positions on Indeed, on company websites, and the state hiring portal. Nobody has contacted him back. ONE hiring agency gave him a "maybe". Even I have applied to several places for myself, with not so much as a rejection.

Seeing the trauma this caused him first hand was my final fucking straw.

I'm sick to death of suffering this tragedy. I'm sick to death of hearing the love of my life, my Fiancé, cry because of how he was fired. And I'm sick to death of coming here or crawling to my friends and family for money they don't have because we're legitimately hopeless for it.

I don't have the heart to continually beg for cash. It was never something I've been good at or proud of doing, and it kills me inside to DM people for commissions I don't even have the time nor energy to do. I'm sick of this. All of this. I need it all to stop.

So of course, I want to nip this in the goddamn bud.

I met a very sweet vendor in Iowa who gave me a load of resources on how to get started selling my art on actual things I get to see and hold for myself and hand to people in person, namely conventions. It's a hell of a risk but I need this to work. I'm so exhausted from asking for money so please help me make this be the last time I ever need to come here for help.

More details will come, because I'm also tired of making plans and leaping forward without having anything to show for it. When I actually have these products designed, that's when I'm going to show you guys everything I've made, with as much detail on my thinking and planning as I can get out there (because lord knows the internet has taken advantage of people's generosity before).

When that time comes, please *please* give me your support. It would legitimately be world-changing for us.

I just wanted to get this out here asap so people would know what I'm going through and, hopefully plan along with me. I don't just want this to happen, I *need* this to *succeed*. I don't have any other option. Right now, I'm busting my ass on product designs (literally because this chair hurts!!), and Jay can attest to that.

I plan on having *something* to show for all my hard work by next week, and soon after, a Kickstarter to make it a reality. Keep an eye out!!

[abnomi]

random assorted headcanons for Turbo because I like thinking and having fun !!!! 🎉

Read More to Find Out...or are you too scared?... i bet ur too scared ahaha youre too scared Lol! Hahaahaaa!!!

The steering wheel of his kart is covered in bite marks, similar to how one would bite their favorite pencil. he bites things to mark his territory because Nobody is gonna touch that unless they want all of his diseases (150+).

i just know he was fighting to restrain himself not to chew on any of the candy civilians

when it comes to music, he doesn't see the point of listening to it. he doesn't have enough patience to really take it in; to him, it's just a thing that exists and not much more than that ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ ∵⁠ )⁠_⁠/⁠¯

adding onto that point, this guy listens to metal clanking sounds and loud engine roaring for entertainment because he likes things that would overstimulate any normal person. turbo is incredibly sensory-seeking and will do anything for The Sensations

someone should take him to a heavy rock concert i think it would change him a little. keep that thang on a leash

related to being sensory-seeking, i think he would absolutely love running his hands over random textures. if anyone has run their hands along a wall while walking alongside it...He does that...If u know u know... he is SO stimmy its unbelievable. Unreal.

very pain-tolerant. he'll whine and complain about it for attention, but physical hurt really doesnt bother him much until it gets in the way of what he wants to do.

funnily enough, he is very picky when it comes to temperature. he can handle getting ran over but if its 1° too hot or cold he'll start nagging and nagging for it to go back to normal. turbo really needs his own enclosure i think it'd do him a lot of good

this is a more popular headcanon and its canon-leaning, but he's an artist :-] he usually sticks to graffiti art because its generally considered more "rebellious and cool" but he also sketches cars, design decals, and other stuff when hes alone!

i would love to see his process of character designing king candy because i dont think he really knew what he was doing

he was just like "ok what does a generic king look like. uhhhhh.... 1, old and jolly like santa claus.... 2.... uhh crown..... 3......... purple.... FUCK YEAH im so good at this!!!!🔥🔥🔥"

i just noticed how his design has like 0 actual candy motifs aside from his bow being a candy wrapper and his shoes having those little gumdrop end pieces. what was he THINKING

while King Candy has a lisp, i think it's a coverup for his actual voice because of how goofy and recognizable it is. Overall its the same as his regular voice, he just gets silly with it. i noticed that he still does retain some of his lisp when hes screaming his lungs out at Vanellope, however, so maybe he genuinely does have a lisp that makes itself known when furious :3

another thing i noticed is how he hisses his S's. very cool very cool the reptilian

@/tasticturbo made a post abt how he has tinnitus from the constant noise in his game and i couldnt agree more

AND THE PRESCRIPTION GLASSES. where did he get those...he needs to See

side note, the aforementioned account has made so many interesting analyses on turbo and theyre all so insightful. i recommend u check them out

i think he gets migraines from stress. constant buzzing or pain flood his head but hes like "IDGAF i need to DO something at ALL TIMES no matter what"

hes like a shark in that way. if hes not moving he'll die instantly. idk a lot about sharks or if thats how it works srry but im going off of what the Worms are saying to me and i dont have much to work with

i think a really big contributer as to why he lacks in the self care department is because he fails to notice that something in his body is wrong. hes far too distracted on something he thinks is more important than remembering to Eat Food or Drink Water or Wash Himself or

he's like "WHY DO I FEEL LIKE SHIT ALL OF THE TIME!!! I HATE MY LIFE" and he hasn't slept in 4 days

hes so me. Sorry.

i dont think turbo is necessarily suicidal, but the way he behaves shows a clear disregard for his own safety and wellbeing. he thinks that he knows what he needs but he really doesnt :-[ i think he has some kind of immortality complex, feeling untouchable and like nothing could get to him. as scared as he was when ralph was about to turn him into sloppy mush, he didnt take the threat very seriously. like it was some kind of joke

his kart regenerates every time his game starts up, so what if he smashed it into buildings for fun. He's the number one fan of car accidents. he is all about that shit

i think his living space would literally be a garage btw. its a place to sleep and a space for his car all in one!! he thinks its very convenient and awesome but i think he is coping. he has some old dingy stained sheetless mattress that he has never washed in his life and its covered in dirt and smoke particles. no wonder he has such heavy eye bags Dude Please

the turbo twins have a garage used in a similar way, and while its still pretty shitty, they still at least TRY to maintain it. they just fight a lot over who has to care of it. nobody taught them how to take turns ever

but this aint about them. maybe another day

i think that turbo would find comfort in garbage and keeping it around because its familiar to him. a big clean empty space would make him so mad and if anyone moves even an inch of scrap off to the side he will throw a fit. he generally doesnt pay attention to his surroundings but when its his personal space he is 1093 times more neurotic

i think the big empty castle he stole wouldve been a big transition for him. maybe it helped him clear his mind a little more to practice his tricky schemes...it helped him get more subtle

thats all i have for nowww ty for reading ^_^ if anyone else has any wacky ideas pleeeease tell me i would love to hear them!!

[kristinhateslife]

Okay so last night I was having an "art style panic"? I guess you could call it that? But I was feeling really bad, so i started drawing other peoples art styles and picking points and peaces out of it!

I did this last night when I was really tired and i used a pen so the drawings may not be how i usually do my drawings haha

Ok so first up we have @emjoyzhos-ej !! I recently just found your account but you have a very cool style!!

•Your skull shape is very unique, very rectangle

•your lines are very sketchy (most people I follow have this trait in their art..)

•when you color it looks like you mayy have rook inspiration from itsxroxannex? Idk i wrote that down, maybe it's not true but I guess i thought that last night

But I love your style! Your art is so cool and I had fun trying to replicate it!

Next we have @milkybnnuy ! Omg so I really like you!! Your art is sooo good

•You draw a lot of fell, so i made the drawing of killer like how you made that one fell killer drawing

•when you color you have a very paintly-style and that's cool!!

•your skull shape reminds me of an egg (i guess thats why i said "egg head" last night)

Up in the top I wrote "I did not replicate your art properly enough," and that's true! Your art is so unique and different from what i usually drew so i had a hard time replicating it! But nonetheless, i had a fun time trying and hope you ain't disappointed lol

Btw- I really like the way you draw your fuzz on hoods!! So satisfying to look at!

And now we go onto @voidzphere !

I've followed you for a while, and you're cool to be around and I like when you post! Though i had a hard time finding the art hidden around, I still was able to replicate it (luckily i chose to draw killer for this haha)

•so I see that you usually draw/post doodles, unless i just didn't scroll down far enough haha (plz tell me if you have drawn something big i wanna see)

•I noticed you have more pointy and thicker lines

•you have a certain way you draw your Skulls, I can't really put a shape or object here to describe it

Even though I couldn't find more drawings, I still tried! I hope you like it, friend, cause u cool

Here is @cherrio-krispz ! I just started following you last night, like seriously I had to search you up just now to figure out who you were cuz I forgot, but when i saw your art I immediately recognized you

•you have a very recognizable style!

•again, i did not replicate well.

•very painty-like when color

•sketchy lines, seems like you don't do line art?

•I like ur skulls, they look like skulls

OMG I'VE BEEN WAITING TO TALK ABOUT YOU. YOU. YOUUU. @somegrumpynerd OMG YOUUUUUU. I REALLY LIKE YOUR ARTTT.

•I LIKE IT

•very cartoonish

• noticable art style

•thick lineart

I LOVE seeing posts when they come out!!! They're really really cool and make me feel so happy when I see them! Keep going because you're so cool!

@spookeri haiiii

You're here tooo

i like ur art :)))))) a LOT . Same as the last guy, I get very excited when you post. Your DTIYS were fun, and yeye... Yeah

•Very flat colors

•flat lines

•cool looking skulls

•you have an "air-brush" shading style (i guess you could call it), which isn't a bad thing! Do what you want to do! But maybe try out cell-shading? Idk you don't have to, but idk i feel like cell-shading fits your art style

Also if you look in the bottom you can see a scratched out drawing, that was my first attempt haha

You can see it in the drawing below

@wyllaztopia !! I like your art :)) you have a very noticeable style and when you post I get excited as well!

•clean lines

•you make skulls longer than how other people make their skulls in this last

•I liked replicating it

Idk what else to say ... Its just all really cool!!

And last but not the worst

My art style!

My art style is

•cool

•easy to draw

•and funny lookin'

What did i learn from this whole thing i did? That everyone has a unique style, that even if they try to change it it still stays theirs and it's still unique

I also found out that everyone, small artists and big artists, has flaws! It's comforting to know that everyone has flaws so I know I'm just learning and getting better everyday

Another thing I got from this is that everyone's styles are always changing and warping. But thats fine! Because everyone's moving and changing, and the worlds always moving and changing!

So, don't be so hard on yourself if you're struggling to draw or find an art style, how you draw is unique to you and you'll like it one day

Just keep drawing everyday and you'll get there.

I suggest doing this challenge, on paper or digital, wether you color it or not, or post ot or not!

It's great to try out.

[withonly-sweetheart]

Back to the Sea

The mysterious stranger on the boat happens to be your roommate and you can't help but wonder who he is. Something about him captivates you, but what happens when an artist loses his brush?

a/n: so... this is all @chesue00's fault. dont get me wrong ilysm pookie but i cannot tell you how much this was going through my head the entire day like i wanted to get home so badly and write this i almost told my teach to fuck off... but thank u ur so talented it hurts like that inspired me sm and thats what art should do! ty! <333

tw: angst?? bc its not my fic unless its got angst (hopefully...) uhm mentions of like illnesses and the flu and stuff but idk help

wc: 5.2k - yes im not even kidding i wrote this all tdy and its not even grammar checked will do that later hehehehehe <333

As the sun dips below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue across the vast expanse of the ocean, you sit at the edge of the ship, gaze fixed on the endless waves stretching out before her. The gentle sway of the ship beneath you, the salty sea air mingling with the haunting cries of the seagulls soaring overhead; it all served as a reminder of sorrow and loss that clings to you like a heavy shroud.

You take it between your fingers, as if you can feel the harsh, unforgiving ivory material form under your hand, and wrap it around yourself tighter, cherishing the small bursts of warmth you get from sitting up here.

Each wave that laps against the side of the ship fails to cover the whispers of the crowd steadily disappearing around you, pointing fingers shamelessly, wondering why a girl your age is sitting, all alone, staring wistfully out at the cerulean abyss.

Someone clears their throat behind you. The last thing you want is to be bothered, so you twist over your shoulder to dismiss them, but somewhere up your throat, the words clump together into a soft gasp.

You have seen him around the ship, when you were first boarding, but you didn’t get the best look at him. Now that you do, you know one thing as true as the sky is blue.

He’s breathtaking. His eyes, reflecting the azure of the ocean, flash with lightning quick irritation, as if your presence inconveniences him. The curve of his lips set in a straight line, tightening almost imperceptibly, jaw clenching ever so slightly.

If you weren’t looking so hard, you could’ve missed it all. 

But how could you miss anything he does, when each ripple of his feature is like a brushstroke? An artist’s slow, deliberate intentions, painting the man in front of you.

“You are taking up the seat,” he mumbles, so quietly you almost don’t catch it. “Apologies,” you respond, shifting to make room for him. The dip between his eyebrows deepens and you find yourself frowning back. “Is something wrong?”

His gaze clouds, turning a muffled shade of gray. “No.”

You hum in response before turning back to the ocean. The heavy silence writhes between them, its unseen grip tightening with each breath. Your mind churns, sensing dark depths his haunted eyes warn away.

So you stand and stroll away, not sparing a glance at the brooding figure. You don’t wish to descend into his sorrow. You have enough of your own, and the tension crackling between you is nearly tangible. 

You know well that behind every handsome man, there is a troubled mind.

And the windows to those thoughts are the eyes.

<><><><>

“If the brothe bee to sweete, put in the more wine, or els a litle vineger.” 

You recall this line from a cookbook your mother once owned as you stare down at the barely distinguishable liquid in a bowl in front of you. Chips of wood flake off and dissolve into the mess of what you think are minced vegetables pooling at the bottom. Though the bubbles of oil faintly remind you of home, nothing else is the same.

You can’t remember the last time you had traditional soup, from the homeland, where everyone's the same as you and food is plentiful, rich in the scent of tangy spices and fresh vegetables and ripe fruit, where the forest birds sing sweet melodies in your ear.

But you are no longer there. It will, as all things do, fade with time, resolving as just a landscape drawn in your head, reduced to nothing but scribbles.

With a sigh far too troubled for your age, you gingerly push the bowl away, careful not to slosh any of it over the edge. You know you are being picky; food is food, and starvation will slowly creep up on you when you least expect it.

But it is better to starve than throw yourself from the starboard, letting the choppy waves consume you. Hunger takes time, crescendoing pain and ache until you cannot bear it. Suffering will suffice, at this moment.

And across the dining hall, the small room housing yet a few late night eaters, you spot him saunter in. Long, black trench coat brushing his ankles, a hat you did not see that now casts shadows upon his chiseled face.

His overalls strain with effort and crumple into wrinkles as he sits a few tables away, raising a hand, wordlessly summoning a bowl of soup that carries from tentative hands. He waves the aged woman away, and perhaps he does not catch the longing look in her eyes.

She has not seen a man so divine in years. Her time at sea has clouded her judgment. This is yet another reason why you must traverse the ocean blue, to prevent the jobs piling up at what you thought was your home, near the port, where the docks carry back the ashes of your family.

You used to love the ocean, the beach, the shores. When the sea hurt you, your father would kiss the tears away, murmuring soft assurance in the shell of your small ear. Although she was nearly a decade older, your sister would never decline an offer of yours to hunt for the little creatures that popped up from the swirling sand, watching them disappear underneath your slow hands.

You miss them. Influenza never failed to take, take, take; the greedy fingers latched on to your family before you could arrive home that day to sick corpses so pale you could not recognize them.

The doctor had suggested a traditional burial,but you knew there was one more thing the sea needed. You lit the pyres, watched their souls mingle with the smoke that gasped for the clouds, and waited.

When all that was left of your loved ones was charred, ivory dust that seemed to sparkle back at you, unaware of its fate, you gathered it into a pot that your grandmother gifted you.

The ocean rejected your offering, at first. It veered away, pulling water from the shore lines, but you stood fast. And it came back, gathered what was already gone, and took it away from you.

The sea never fails to remind you of what you’ve lost.

But here, on the ship, a marvel of engineering, keeping you afloat, you are not truly with the sea. You will not make yourself mold to the pitiful, lonely girl everyone expects you to be. 

With that resolve, you cradle the soup back to your chest, staring it down with defiant eyes. The ocean will not have another victim, you will make sure of that.

It burns your throat all the way down, saltier than the sea. Bile raises to combat it but you force spoon after spoon into your stomach. All that remains from your battle is the wood, which you tried your best to separate from the soup, but you are sure that you definitely swallowed at least some of it.

As the thinnest definition of dinner warms your insides against the cold that threatens to seep in, your eyes find him across the galley. He sits alone, as always, nursing a tin cup and gazing into its contents as if answers lay within.

You recall your chance encounter in the night, the rare moments of grace amid tumult never far from his eyes. Though he often keeps away from the streams of people, you have the feeling it has less to do with aloofness than wounds not easily unveiled.

As if finally sensing your gaze, his eyes lift and meet yours across the dusty space. There seems to be no cracks in his steely expression, his stormcloud eyes, but there is a flicker of emotion - curiosity, or perhaps kinship's first stirrings. 

You offer the barest nod before returning focus to your meager meal. Yet all the while, currents stronger than the sea pull at your thoughts, drawing them ever back towards that quiet figure and mysteries that beg to be revealed. You tilt your head to the side, rubbing fingers down your neck, feeling your pulse race underneath your skin. Massaging the area, you force yourself to relax.

You force yourself to believe that those eyes haven’t jarred your thoughts.

<><><><>

“I must… have the wrong room.” Those same eyes stare back at you, hands trembling slightly around parchment yellowing at the edges, swirling with confusion. “I apologize.”

“It wouldn’t, by chance, be 930, would it?” you ask. 

“Er… yes,” he admits with a dip of his head, looking almost embarrassed by the situation. “I suppose I’ll go request another-”

“It’s quite alright,” you race to say before you can stop yourself. “I do not mind.”

A small corner of his mouth lifts, if only for a second, and when his expression goes back to being neutral, you find yourself wanting to coax more emotions from him. 

You help him get settled in, telling him he could take the bed on the right. When he’s finished fussing with the sheets, you sit on your respective mattresses, awkwardly staring down at your hands.

"I... thank you," he finally replies, his voice soft. "I did not expect to find understanding here."

“Your name, sir?”

“Leon. Your name, I already know.”

“How fascinating.”

“You are a… popular subject of gossip upon this vessel.”

“Why are you traveling to England?” you ask, finding yourself making small talk to switch the topic. “Are you simply traveling?”

“Yes.” 

“Where is your hometown?” His eyes glaze over with the familiar homesickness you can recognize.

"My home lies in a small village far from here," he replies, gazing into memories only he could see. "A quiet place, surrounded by green countryside and simple folks." His eyes find yours with rare openness. "And you? What brings one so young to cross the sea alone?"

“I’m paying my lovely aunt a visit,” you say vaguely, trying to make your voice light. But he must hear the undertones of it, because he cocks his head to the side, arching a golden eyebrow.

“Is that so?” he muses. “I hope you enjoy your trip.”

“I’ve noticed you carry that briefcase around quite a bit,” you say, quickly changing the subject. “Is it dear to you?”

He laughs, a warm, rich tone that sparks something in your heart. 

Maybe… just… maybe?

“Not so,” he explains. He leans over to grab the case resting on the nightstand and clicks it open. “This is the reason I am traveling, you see.”

You peer over the top of the rusty case to reveal… pencils?

“You are… an artist?” you ask, slightly confused. You hadn’t taken him for a participant of the fine arts, but at your query, his eyes seem to light with an inspiration not previously there.

“I have lost my flame,” he says slowly, cautiously, as if placing his words carefully. “I thought England would fix… the problem… but perhaps… you could help me?” At your face, he bites his lip. "A smooth sea never makes a skilled sailor, as they say."

“Who has ever said that, and who am I to decline a stranger in need?” You chuckle, and his grin seems to usurp his entire expression. 

“You need not do anything,” he rushes to say, hands flurrying to unpack the materials carefully stowed away in the briefcase. The determined, set look on his face is enough to convince you, and even if it hadn’t, realistically, would you be able to say no?

He stills suddenly, observing you, sweeping over you, drinking in everything, as if to absorb your being. When his gaze meets yours, he smiles and it truly reaches his previously emotionless eyes.

“You are… perfect,” he whispers. He holds his pencil up, bottom lip disappearing as he frowns, grumbling in frustration. “But this lighting is… not quite correct.”

Leon eyes the room, then stands suddenly. You watch him, watch him drag a chair from the small writing desk over to the foot of his bed, planting it firmly. He points a finger to the empty space, gesturing for you to sit there.

“What exactly are you planning?” You ask with a smile.

The one he returns matches your curiosity. “We shall see.”

And that is exactly how, a few minutes later, you sit with your legs crossed, hands folded over one another in your lap, with a soft smile decorating your face.

“You must stay still,” he chastises, gazing at you with a languid look in his eyes, voice dreamy, as if he sees something in you that you can’t.

“You have not yet answered my question.” You ignore the red blooming up your neck at his fluttering gaze. He lounges further into the bed, hiding more of himself away, spinning the pencil between his fingers.

He looks almost thoughtful as he scribbles away, muttering to himself, lost in a trance. You lean against the dresser, resting your body weight on it, feeling yourself relax.

His eyes move back to you, and he jolts, like something drastic has changed. His hands fly rapidly across the paper, gaze locked onto you. He smudges something with his finger, erases something here and there, and eventually, he huffs a sigh and leans back, looking somewhat satisfied with the paper.

Intrigued, you stand from your position, stretching your stiff joints. “May I see?”

Leon snorts a laugh. “Of course not.”

“It is my portrait, no?” You grin. “Show me.” Without another word, you lean over the foot of the bed, over the elaborate carvings of wood, and try to sneak a peek at the paper.

He lets out what you can only describe as a boyish squeal, and yanks the pad away from you, clutching it to his chest. “I said no!”

Leon tries his best to play-keep away from your hands, folding the paper carefully in half as he stuffs it into an inner pocket of his shirt. When you try to reach for it, instinctively, he flushes a red hue that matches the crimson of your bedsheets.

“Apologies,” you whisper.

“It’s alright,” he whispers back.

The air has gone back to tense, anguish, as if you are both hurtling towards something you cannot stop, racing towards a finish line in a race you do not wish to compete in. When he climbs into bed, wordlessly, you wonder what you did to deserve this torture, to have a masterpiece sleeping a few feet away. 

He purses his lips and blows out the flame in the lantern standing proud on your nightstand, murmuring a quick goodbye.

As your eyes adjust to the absence of light, you watch the blanket blow out around him, creeping over his body, hugging him tightly. His snores come quickly, gentle and quiet, not bothersome.

You sigh and close your eyes, wishing for the relief of sleep to come as fast as his.

<><><><>

Strangely enough, someone rouses you from your sleep, something you didn’t expect. Breakfast calls were a luxury reserved for those with money, but you weren’t going to complain. Missing the first meal of the day had serious consequences in your household.

This isn’t your household, though. These aren’t your rules.

And that definitely isn’t a handkeep’s fingers clutched around your arm.

“Leon?” you murmur, rubbing your eyes, savoring the fuzzy corners before every comes into focus with sudden clarity. He stands beside your bed, gaze darting here and there. 

“Oh… you are awake,” he says as he isn’t the reason it is so.

“You woke me,” you state blankly, blinking up at him.

“I suppose… well,” he mutters, then sighs, shaking his head. “Never mind that.”

“How often does this happen?” you ask quietly, sitting up. “Are you plagued by night horrors?”

“I am not a child!” he snaps, then immediately softens, regret pooling in his eyes. “It is just… I thought you had left…”

“Yet I am here, no?” you say, slightly bemused. The tips of Leon’s ears turn a salmon pink as he lets out a shuddering breath, nodding. 

“I see that,” he says with a small smile, sitting beside you, leaving enough space to respect your privacy. You return one with just as much carefully measured emotion, not wanting to scare him away, wanting him to open up.

As gray dawn spreads its thin wings slowly over calm waters, he recollects himself. He tells you fragments of his past, picking up pieces of his past until it fits into a puzzle perfectly. An orphan, talent stripped from him by the urge to survive.

You faintly think that he should also be a writer, because the way he tells his story is akin to the way an author paints a scene with just words. You can see his parents in the shadows, echoing in his laugh, in the slant of his nose, the pucker of his chin. 

He shrugs, twisting to face you. “I almost died, there, on the streets.”

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

His eyes meet yours, “So am I.”

Seeing him in such a vulnerable state, you can’t help but feel inclined to share what truly happened to you as well.

“I’m not… just visiting my aunt.”

A ghost of a smile graces his lips. “I was thinking as much. Tell me, what is the true purpose of your visit.”

“My family recently passed from influenza. Only sorrow trails me in the States. Perhaps returning to my hometown will provide… solace?” You offer a dry laugh, but Leon’s expression goes stony as he takes your hands into his.

“I… did not know,” he says, sounding as sincere as you’ve ever heard him. “I made such a joke without understanding the full context… I apologize.”

“It is really nothing,” you rush to assure him, but more so because the crestfallen look on his face is something you do not wish to bring upon. “I forgive you.”

“You are still tired,” he says with another sigh. “I will wake you for breakfast. Sleep.”

He’s right. Too sleepy to protest, you clutch the blankets around you and shut out not only the slowly growing beams of sunlight from the window, but also the relief that emanates from Leon’s very being, flooding over you, bringing you the peace that lets you drift off.

<><><><>

You wake to frigid air seeping through cracks in the ship's walls, clouds hiding the sun’s bright smile. Throwing off your thin blankets, you grasp the warmth, hoping it still lingers. But your hand meets only cold, empty fabric. 

Panic rises in my throat as you rush from the sleeping quarters. Out on the icy deck, figures hustle to and fro under a pale, stormy sky. Your eyes scan for one in particular, relief flooding through you as you spot his lean form near the rail, gaze lost to the sea. 

"Leon," you call softly so as not to wake the other sleeping passengers. When he turns, worry is etched into his brows. You brush it off with a shaky smile. "I had feared the night's dangers had claimed you at last." 

“At last?” His lips turn up in return, reassuring you with his movement. But you can see the shadow neither of you could outrun, not with Death stalking your decks in his grim dance. 

Drawing near, you trace his stare to the horizon, limitless and cold. You stand in front of him as he lingers behind, hesitating, arms outstretched. 

“I wish to fly, one day,” you say jokingly. “But I suppose for now, swimming will do.”

“I cannot swim,” he admits quietly. “I never will.”

“Of course you can,” you insist. “Anyone can-”

“Not everyone has lost their brother to the sea.”

 The answer burns, searing your back in the way he delivers it, venom in his voice. But eventually, he sighs, as if giving in, and you can feel him get closer.

“May I?” You admire that he asks before anything, and when you nod, he wraps his arms around your waist, pushing you gently against the railing that you clutch tightly. He rests his head on your shoulder, craning his neck to stand comfortably.

Then he speaks again. “My deepest apologies. As you can tell… I miss him.”

"Then we'll face such fears together," you say with such finality you believe it yourself. "None are meant to wander depths of sadness all alone. But your brother's memory lives on you - a gift more precious than any sea could claim. I know this. And what are you doing now?”

Slowly, you can feel his lips curl upwards against your neck, sparking at your words, growing into that smile you’ve come to cherish. 

“You wish to fly? This is as close as I can get you, beloved.”

With a grin of your own spreading across your face, you outstretch your arms, leaning into the wind, wanting to let it carry you both away. Your fingers trace the sharp line of his jaw, coming to rest on his beating pulse that lives on despite all the world has tried to steal away.

You don’t know what overtakes you, the immense feeling of admiration you feel for him, that might be what spurs you to lean in. And, much to your surprise and pleasure, as soft morning light limns sea and sky in a hopeful blend of blue, your lips meet in a kiss - brief, chaste, yet speaking everything you need to hear. 

“At least I’ll have you,” he says, melting back into your embrace, tightening his arms around your hips. “One thing the sea will never take.”

But you should’ve known.

The waters are never done taking.

<><><><>

You do not know when the screams started. All you know is that they came with the rough tides, crashing against the boat, with the crackle of thunder and smoke hissing in the air. Everyone rushes to cram into the sleeping quarters, but living near the port all your life, you know better. You know exactly what is happening.

The boat is sinking.

And strangely enough, your first thought is to find Leon. He had asked you to wait a quiet moment on the deck, and you had both dismissed the rolling clouds, steadily creeping towards you while he disappeared below the deck.

You had been hoping that he would show you his art. Now you hope that you can get him out in time. But before you can scrunch up your dress and scramble into the quarters, someone grabs your arm.

You do not see the face. You know it is not Leon, he is infinitely calmer and more gentle than the rough fingers of whoever your captor is. As you struggle to look up at the face, you are tossed into a boat that hangs on the side of the ship.

“Women and children first!” a gruff voice calls out, presumably the one that just manhandled you. You try to protest, saying you need to go back, but the small boat fills up quicker than you expect, and eventually you are being slowly lowered down onto the choppy waves.

You stand on tiptoe, trying to make out any sign of Leon on the ship, hoping he makes it out okay. The people rowing the boat harshly yank you down before pushing away from the boat. Every stroke they make takes you farther and farther away, until the dense fog shrouds the entire ship from your view.

And the unexpected happens. You hear a loud crack and the boat immediately splinters into two. The women and their children huddle to one side, the bigger side, while you and some other girls stay put, eyes fixed on where you last saw the ship.

With no one to steer, you veer back towards it and it comes into view, only this time, it is on fire. Flames lick the sides, hissing where it meets the salty sea, climbing up the ship. And you see the mess of blond hair that you so desperately recognize.

“Leon!” You shout, screaming for his attention. His eyes snap to your general direction, scanning the area with a wide, panicked expression before landing on you. Almost immediately his face softens before it returns to its stony, default look.

You are confused for a moment before he quickly surveys the area. A raft hangs from the side, unused, calling his name, and you realize with shame that your boat is starting to sink, dipping into the water.

You and the other girls lean to the other side, pleading for help. Summoning all fading strength, you yell his name once more as waves close over your head. Darkness swallows your cries, drowning them in the murky ocean depths, yet in your fleeting consciousness, your trust for him remains like the anchor you wish him to be.

Breathless, gasping, you break the surface amid a sea of shrieks and sinking debris. There through the smoke a ragged shape appears, slicing swift as any bird towards you. Strong hands grasp and haul you aboard the makeshift raft, lying there to cling and spend your remaining prayers in thanks to Leon as he attends each soul amid the roiling deep, ferrying them from the ocean’s inky grasp with steady hands and calmer gaze.

“Are you alright, dear?” he calls to you after the third and final girl is pulled to safety, gasping for breath. “I did not expect this situation whatsoever.”

“Neither did I,” you murmur, spitting the remnants of the salt in your throat back into the sea, like returning a gift. “I suppose we will be alright now.”

Leon’s face crumples. “I’m afraid not.”

You groan. “What is it now? Is it the sharks from the depths? I will fight them with my bare hands, just you watch!”

You watch his expression flash through amusement, then back to pain. “We… I…”

“What troubles you so?”

He gestures a hand to the sea around you, to the drenched figures, far too many for the raft to carry. You realize this with the drop of your heart.

“There are too many of us,” he says apologetically, like he’s only hurting you. “One of us must leave.” 

For a second, you consider pushing one of the girls off. Anything to keep him. But you realize that your selfish thoughts should not take control. You grab his hands, clutching them tightly, holding them to your chest.

“Then it shall be me.”

Leon offers a weak smile. “No.”

“No?” you sputter. “What- it was not a question!”

“It will not be the answer either, my love,” he says gently, prying his hands from yours. “I will be the last. Please make sure of that.”

And before you can plead for him to stay, his weight shifts and you can feel the raft rising again. He casts one more, sorrowful look at you before he glides into the water, descending effortlessly. You reach for him, and your fingers brush his knuckles before he disappears forever.

Before he is gone. 

Yet another loved one.

Lost to the sea.

<><><><>

You wait for an indeterminate amount of time, waiting for the news to arrive one day at your aunt’s doorstep, that he is still alive, awaiting your arrival in some uncharted region. But no such idea comes. And eventually, the denial washes away and you are left with the loss that nothing can fix.

You rock in the chair of your living room, the smell of your aunt’s soup no longer bringing saliva to your mouth, but tears to your eyes, because now everything reminds you of Leon.

The bell rings outside and you can’t bring yourself to rise and answer the door with puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. Your aunt knows this, so without sparing you another look, allowing you your privacy, opens the door just a smidge.

She makes conversation with the person standing outside before turning back to you with a soft smile. She hands you an envelope, and you cannot lie when your heart races up to the sky, finding purchase in the fluffy clouds.

You cannot find the words to thank her, but she knows this as well, and walks away without another word. When she disappears behind the kitchen corner, you rush to open the letter.

The first words send your heart plummeting back to where it was, perhaps even crashing through the layer of obsidian and burrowing itself in a place where it will never return. But upon scanning the rest of the thoughtful, heartfelt message, there is a tug that forces you to check the rest of the envelope.

And when you unfurl a piece of paper, long since forgotten in your brain, you muffle a cry with the back of your hand, the parchment trembling in your five, shaky fingers.

It is the portrait Leon drew of you. It made its way back to you.

You know, after seeing this, there is one thing you must do. You lie the paper down on the round table beside you, careful to preserve it.

You wash up, put on a dress your aunt lent to you, a blue, rippling thing that seems to reflect the ocean waves back at you. You tie your hair up, wanting to look somewhat presentable. 

And you call out a goodbye to your aunt, who’s smile you can hear in her voice, evident as she waves from the kitchen, ecstatic to see you out and about. But there is only one place you must go. One thing you must do to find the closure you are aching for.

Back to where it all started.

<><><><>

Tears that are the crystals of salt found in the ocean's depths stream down your face, as unnatural as the mixture of saltwater and freshwater, where one stops, another begins.

In the ocean, you slip from your skin, thoughts descending down a mad spiral, the spirits watching as you mingle with the essence of saltwater stinging your sunburned skin. The night air does little to nothing to cool your thoughts.

Is he there? In the droplets that cradle the back of your hands, trickling from the pool cupped in your palms. You can see him standing, just a few feet away, knee deep in the water, as constant as the waves and as calm as the tides.

Leon’s hair waves in the moonlight, a silent greeting to you, cerulean bathing his face in a ghastly blue, making him seem more and more like the ghost he is.

You raise a hand, out of instinct, choking back a sob. 

A smile curves those salty, timeless lips.

“You left me too,” you whisper through tears, crystals disappearing under the crescents of water brushing against your shorts. “Why can life not just be… easy? Simple?”

Leon chuckles, face softening in sympathy. “Did you forget what I told you already?”

You lift your head, rubbing granules of sand against your nose to muffle your sniffling. “What?” His grin is somehow both brighter than the moon and darker than the water you can’t see through.

“A smooth sea never makes a skilled sailor.”

[guacemolyarts]

please please tell me how u perceive ellabs 😭😭😭 from a shipping standpoint😭😭 also i love ur art so much

Abby has always been number one. From being Jerrys daughter, to becoming the WLFs top Scar killer, to leading her entire friend group into a murder plot with her, etc. Abby has always been the one to take the lead and do whatever she wants by her own command because she has never not gotten what she’s wanted. When that attitude got the best of her in the end (her friends turning on her, realizing what they had participated in was fucked up, etc.) she became prideful and cowardly. Lev was able to reinvent that attitude with her by giving her a purpose to protect and love someone more than herself. Lev let her have a break for once, gave her a chance to have her guard down, and not always have to feel stoic. She stood up to the only person who could crumble her *just* a bit (Isaac) and Ellie, who unknowingly had been leading her down a death trap. Even when figuring that out, Abby never backed down, Abby still got the upper hand, Abby still had what Ellie wanted- someone to care about her and her life.

Now Ellie on the other hand? Ellie has NEVER had it easy. Grew up an orphan, was a bit of a loner without Riley, was regarded as a “sad kid” by Winston, the only adult who ever really gave her the time of day. This girl has been searching for love and support her entire life. Despite her bratty attitude and hotheaded tendencies, no matter what, shes always a softie. And when she gets fixated on anything, it becomes her purpose and the force that pushes through whatever situation shes in- on a lighter note, Savage Starlight quotes, on a darker note, Abby. Ellie finds strength in just *doing*. She doesn’t need to force anyone to abide by her order (unless you wanna argue Nora, but even then, what a sloppy attempt at getting her way). She steam rolls any situation she thinks is gonna get her to her goal (jumping off the bridge into the water with Joel, the entirety of Seattle Day 2 and 3, becoming a deadbeat).

And together? You get two women who come from remarkably different upbringing’s and backgrounds, who in the end, crave to care for and to be cared about. Abby who has the explicit need to put herself in any dangerous position, knowing she can get out of it unscathed, with the entire goal of making sure what she cares about makes it through safely. Ellie, who has only ever fought through survival, to not have to do it anymore. Who can just feel protected and at peace. Abby, who is meticulous in her planning and execution, Ellie, rough around the edges and will figure it out when she gets there.

Despite how opposite they are in those regards, they are similar in their unifying need to find inner peace and strive to do their best. Both of them are incredibly strong people- and together, in any dynamic and in any situation they must get through together, I perceive Abby to be the one who is more level-headed, less inclined to blindly walk into Ellies fire, and to take the reigns in any struggle they get themselves in. To guide Ellie down the smarter, albeit longer path, and for Ellie to complain and annoy her to every end because she thinks being safer is worse than being in a rush. Ellie, the tough, agile little moth who learned everything on her own and by Joels hand, who can cut through 7 men at a time and is quick on her fight or flight. Abby, the trained in combat ex-soldier who can wipe out any path she needs to get through just by one intimidating scowl.

This is an interpretation based on canon, i could talk in circled about them for hours. So heres a little tidbit of what i perceive them as as individuals but how those traits work together.

[puppyeared]

this could just be "gatekeeping but im being really polite abt it" but. its less abt thinking only certain ppl should be allowed in, and more like i dont wanna open a pandoras box that makes it difficult for everyone to have fun. shrugs

i wanna post my skip to loafer art but i cant do it knowing ppl are gonna put it on tiktok and pinterest bc itd be like. bringing an invasive species ykwim

[l0ves1ckf0ol]

hiii! could u write a fic where reader and xavier are best friends and one day she notices those scratches on his neck so decides to ask him about it, but he snaps at her and they start fighting, and he says stuff he doesnt mean like he tells her that she's annoying cus she never leaves him alone blahlbah she feels bad then she leaves and after a few days they finally talk again and he apologizes and they kiss 😝

TALK | xavier thorpe x gn!reader

"y/n, please let's talk."

note: ill do you one better anon, theyre in a relationship now.

ever since wednesday addams made an appearance to the school, xavier acted strange. you for sure noticed that he has been hanging out more at the shed rather than with you, was it because of her? you were never the type to be jealous but ever since that girl enrolled this semester you couldn't shake off the feeling of how she unconsciously has a choke hold on your boyfriend.

it's been a couple days since you've visited the shed, there he was working away on a piece of art, hair tied up in a bun, eyebrows knitted together in a frown. he usually enjoys art, this was the first time you've seen him troubled. there was a unique pattern in the shed, supposedly. it appears that he has painted, sketched and created the same creature in different angles. you were beginning to think there's more to the story than wednesday herself. xavier wasn't the type to communicate unless asked to, so you did.

"what are you doing here?" his frown deepened, you hum, folding your arms. "you tell me, mr. thorpe. you haven't answered my calls, texted or even waited for me at the quad so i can walk you here." you told him, the tension rising as he puts his brush down. once he fully turns toward you, the cheep light bulb of the shed illuminates 3 small scars on his neck. you frowned, taking a step forward as you grab his chin to face another way to make the scar more exposed and visible to you. your hand falls to the side, "care to explain?" you ask him, raising an eyebrow. "look y/n, it's no big deal-"

you didn't listen to him at this point, no big deal? he wasn't even spending so much time with you, he was always chasing that interesting new student and now when you try and make things a little more clearer you find scratches on his neck. what part of a no big deal was that.

"xavier. you have been following that pigtailed magnet for trouble, i went here to talk to you about it, and see you've painted the same monster in about 13 artworks, and a scar on your fucking neck. please be honest with me and do not say that it's not a big deal. it is when you ignore your partner and run off in your tiny little shed rather than express your feelings towards me lately- hell you didn't even bother to let me walk you here." you ramble, silencing him in a heartbeat. frustration was evident in your face and xavier looks like he won't back down so fast.

"y/n, i already told you it's not serious. i'm fine. really. just-"

you scoff, the shed shivering and the groand grumbling, a sign of your anger. but you decided that there was a better time to destroy his shed, just not now. you took a deep breath and the rumbling stopped, "you wanna play this game xav? i'll beat you fucking to it." you mutter leaving the shed, slamming the wooden gate behind you, the temptation to let the earth swallow him for you was insane.

for the past few days not only you were avoiding him but also ignoring xavier's texts and calls, like what he was doing to you in the past days before. xavier huffs in frustration as he redialed your phone number for about 30 times now, he wanted to make things right, he misses you. he for sure didn't want to break your relationship just because of a stupid monster haunting his dreams. at the 34th time, you answered. he got up from his bed, "y/n? please let's talk." he mutters to the phone, knowing just how to make you surrender.

"where baby?" you answer, xavier would like to thank the heavens for your voice, he was so glad to hear you, with a sigh of relief he told you to meet him at his dorm.

once you arrived at his dorm, you knocked once and he already opens it. "y/n, i'm so so so so sorry about everything. lots of shit has been happening ever since wednesday arrived and i-i dont want that to ruin what we have." he tells you, his tone so desperate you'd think that your relationship was on thin ice and he was coming to rescue it. you wrap your arms around his shoulder and embraced him, inhaling his scent and hearing him breathe. you wouldn't admit it but you missed him too.

you pull away and you both sat down on his bed, he talks about everything. how wednesday shows up everywhere and how she was suspicious that he might be the creature rather, the- hyde. you listened to him, as the way he talks just makes you feel relieved. his eyes were darting every single corner in the room out of anxiety, so you placed a hand on his, rubbing the back of his palm with your thumb. once he finished, you smile at him. "see? it wasn't that hard was it?" you told him, caressing his cheek with your other hand. you lay down on his bed and he falls next to you, head burying into your shoulder and chest, his arms sneaking their way around your waist, "i missed you so much, i love you." xavier mumbled, you sigh in content, placing a peck on his head, "i love you too." you whisper as he cranes his neck backward to take a look at you, then your lips finally meet his, a warmth made its way in your body, feeling the most satisfactory relieg in human history.

[cerastes]

Are there any notable supporters you reccomend? I kinda ignore the class except for gnosis (and I do use scene and deep color in IS a bit) and I wonder if I'm actually sleeping on some fun units.

YOU CAME TO THE RIGHT NEIGHBORHOOD, MOTHER FUCKER, I LOVE SUPPORTERS.

Suzuran - 6* Decel Binder. The moral of Arknights is that children make excellent soldiers, and Suzuran proves this. Her two Talents are really good, as she serves as an incredibly potent SP accelerator for Supporters (+0.4 extra SP per second, so Supporters will charge 40% faster, herself included), and all enemies suffering from Slow (the actual status effect Slow, not the movement speed reduction effects one can find on Manticore or Chung the Hung, for example) in her range are also inflicted with 20% Fragile (so, they take 20% extra Phys, Arts and True damage from all sources). It doesn't have to be Slow inflicted by her, any Slow will do, so Angelina's S2 machinegun Slow will render an enemy vulnerable to an ass kicking quite effectively, as will Podenco's S2, and any source of Slow additional to Suzuran herself. S2 gives her an extra target on every attack, 2 extra targets with Masteries, alongside a minor Attack buff and, more importantly, infinite duration, meaning she can control more enemies at once and better prevent Slow Dilution (what I call when you Slow an enemy, then the next enemy passes them, making them the next target, and so on, diluting damage and clustering them; this isn't necessarily bad but it can be undesired depending on you strategy). Her spotlight stealer, however, is her S3, which expands her range, provides strong passive healing (so unhealables can be healed), doubles her Fragile Talent (40%), and Slows everything in range. Gnosis Fragile is bigger (50%) but he only maintains it in comparatively shorter bursts, Suzuran's S3 last 35 whopping seconds, and enemies that are Slow-immune are far fewer than Freeze-immune. This section is particularly big because, yeah, Suzuran just really does that much, she combos VERY well with other Supporters, can be slotted in any team, and just generally works, I'm not even a Suzuran fan, she's just that jacked.

Podenco - 4* Decel Binder, real name GODenco, also slots easily into any team, can switch to healing on her S1, or provide bursts of Silence, AoE Arts damage and Slow on good upkeep with her S2. She also provides a minor passive buff to other Supporters. If you need to Silence things, you think of the best Silencer, Lappland, but sometimes you need to Silence a LOT of things, enough that Lapp might get overwhelmed, well, that's when you use GODenco S2 and suddenly that entire cluster of 8 exploding spiders won't go boom no more. She's really good for Slow Dilution because of her single target into AoE skill, so she combos really good with AoE hitters like Artillerymen, Fortresses, Chain Casters, Qiu Bai S2, etc.

Shamare - 5* Hexer, a good execution support, as she applies 30% Fragile to enemies in range under 40% HP. Her main hat trick, however, is her S2, her signature Cursed Doll. At S2M3, the Cursed Doll, which you deploy on the field and it affects its tile and the 8 surrounding tiles, will provide an absolutely ungodly debuff of -50% ATK and DEF to all enemies in said range. One of the rare ATK% debuffs in the game, and in my opinion the best, it'll make even Gopnik hit like a wet noodle. What's more, since it's not an active skill, the moment you drop your Cursed Doll, Shamare will immediately begin charging the next one! With a charge of 30 and a doll timer of 15 seconds, her true charge time is 15 seconds. Basically, you can cycle 15 seconds of regular enemy stats and 15 seconds of halved enemy stats. This is legitimately insane. Since Shamare's stats are also unimportant, you can just leave her at E2Lv1 (unless you want her Module, which imo is not worth the lv2+ and I'd only get the lv1 if you really like her) so she can be a cheap and powerful investment.

U-Official - NUMERO UNO CAMPEAO DA PENTA

Quercus - 5* Abjurer. I'll keep it simple here: Her healing with Module is bonkers, and she provides Shelter (damage reduction%) to units in range above 70% HP, 60% with Module Lv3. S1 is her permanent Healer mode, toggable on a long cooldown, while S2 is her burst healing window skill, notable in that it provides SP to healed units throughout its duration. Quercus is sleeped upon, she's a REALLY strong Supporter that provides SP, healing and bulk.

Orchid - 3* Decel Binder. I include her here if you want to play Integrated Strategies, because she's always a good free pick there. She's the Slower that Slows.

Roberta - 4* Artificer. I include her here because my stream audience will disembowel me and chain my flayed corpse outside the Museum of Modern Arts if I don't, she's my meme unit. THOUGH, her Shield-providing, DEF enhancing tools can come in handy.

Valarqvin - 5* Ritualist. The IS4 free unit. Significantly stronger in IS4 due to built-in Necrosis Damage on autoattacks, but even outside of IS4, she can be useful for bursting or key enemy elimination with S2, as Necrosis is a strong effect with a built in, decaying ATK% debuff (again, rare) and unmitigated DoT (total of 12000 damage over 15 seconds, 800 dmg per second). Nothing so far in the game resists this, so go ham.

Angelina - 6* Decel Binder. Angelina's whole thing is that she's not a standout unit in any regard, but she can support practically every team, can so strong sustained damage and Slow against single targets with S2, strong multitarget Slow and reduced Weight for Shifting with S3, and passively increases party ASPD and gives them passive healing (works on unhealables). Angelina is kind of like a crowbar or a length of rope in that she's as useful as you can be creative with her, never as a stand out, but as a good brick in the overall house.

Ling - Limited 6* Summoner. Kind of an obligatory mention, but basically, God Mode. One of the gamebreakers, as she can produce 4-Block replenishable immensely powerful summons with multitarget equal to block, Arts damage, and damaging auras. Yeah. Even without that monster of an S3, she can sub Burst Damage and crowd control really well with S2. Her applications are insane, she's so strong that we can be here all day, so we won't do that, she's a very well documented unit.

Skadi the Corrupting Heart - Limited 6* Bard. Again, another well documented unit, but she can basically E3 your units with the sheer stat heft she provides through her S2 buff, can deploy an extension to this range with her Seaborn Summon, and if you really want to go ham, she can enter Microwave Mode with S3 so True Damage cook the shit out of anything, in addition to providing a really big Attack bonus to units in range while at it. Well documented unit so I'll keep it brief but yeah, godlike unit.

There's a few more, like Proviso and Scene, but that's enough for now. "Your forgot to mention--" I didn't forget, you do it.

I hope this helps, anon!

[writingbyshiloh]

Cautious yet Optimistic and Graceful Part 2

Part 1 & Part 3

CW: Morally gray reader, F!Reader, John Wick-type universe (ie, killing, the reader thinks about past injuries from fights. training not descriptive). Not smut but suggestive thinking from both Vincent and the reader, mutual pinning, and worldbuilding but no description of the reader. Smoking, a nonsexual cigarette burn on the reader, brief drinking. MAYBE OCs (Fictional staff for the fictional hotel). NO BETA

Summary: The Marquis de Gramont still annoys you. But he needs help from you(r hotel). Like a good manager, you help. 

AN: PART 2 everyone!!! Thank u for the likes/comments/reblogs! This takes place a few months after part 1. IDEK if this is ooc the man had like 30 minutes of screen time overall and I’ve been writing this for a week. I read it a few times for spelling but something got messed up copy and pasting and a para or 2 got dropped. Part 3 will be out ???? soon(ish)

Something about today had his words bouncing around in your head. Out of all the ways to describe someone, he narrowed it down to three (well technically he used six). 

Cautious. Sure, you can see that. Out of a love of being alive, you tried not to take any unnecessary risks in your fighting days. You also tried to avoid having a marker whenever you could. There was one in existence with your blood on it. A favour for someone you thought was a friend. You held up your end, the bloody fingerprint stored in the New York Continental as proof. 

Optimistic. That also makes sense. You actually enjoy what you do, loving being part of the criminal underworld before and now. You haven't been the manager for too long but would already die for this hotel. 

The part that was throwing you was graceful. You didn't think you were that graceful physically. You have scars to prove that you've taken a hit, slash, or burn many times. Did he mean gracefully with people? Camille did so much for the hotel, you just deal with regular hotel things (like getting Monument Historique status for a collection of French weapons, take that, Vincent). The other part was implanting rules from the high table. Maybe just being graceful and polite when you were resisting the urge to claw your eyes out. 

It could also be flirting. You felt he wasn't the type to hit on someone out of the blue. Sure he was smart and confident, but it seemed like too big a risk for him to take. Unless he is just a playboy, which is something you find yourself tempted to google twice a day. 

You would rather die than admit it, but you almost like when he called you Mademoiselle. Almost. It was like a nickname, plus it brought out his accent more. When you found yourself enjoying.

To make things worse Camielle caught on to your crush immediately. While embarrassing, it did show how clever she was and you were glad she was the concierge. Her knowing also gave you an excuse to just tell Vincent your direct number, so Camille would stop reminding you how frequently he called.

You love the bar in the hotel. It is beautiful, decorated in an Art Nouveau style, with large windows allowing for the sun to filter in during the day. You were almost pleased that Vincent asked to meet you there, allowing you to subtly show off your business. 

Finding him at the bar wasn’t hard, no one else was wearing a dark green three-piece suit, complete with a complexly tied tie and their coat of arms pin. He looks good but tense, one long leg crossed over the other. Plus, you could see Chidi and another guard in their gray suits keeping an eye. You were thankful that you took extra time this morning on your outfit. 

You slid into the chair next to him, after shaking a few hands with other big names down in the bar for a late-night drink. 

“I hear you have a problem.” You say, while not knowing the full details, just that he wanted to meet you in the bar and something was wrong. It kicked your heartbeat up, even if you only told yourself it was the stress of him being here. 

“Correct.”. 

“I’m sure you know because of your love of rules, but I can only help those who are using the hotel services.” 

You didn't care that much, and would absolutely bend the rules to do him a favour, but couldn't resist a chance to get a dig in.

The Marquis pulls out two gold coins and slides them across to the bartender. He orders a top-shelf spirit before his eyes cut to you. Now he's buying you a drink in your own hotel. You would want him to buy you a drink in a different situation but at least he didn't order for you. That may cause you to actually kill him.  

Clearing your throat you order your usual, quietly thanking the bartender when the drink was placed in front of you. 

The bar wasn't loud, but he dropped his head towards you so you could hear him better and to give the conversation some privacy. 

“You have a cartographer here, no?”

You nodded. The cartographer is excellent. He had blueprints for buildings past and present, as well as the catacombs. He also had knowledge and keys to abandoned buildings if something had to be desponded and not be found. 

“How soon do you need him?” While one of the best, he was away for his daughter's wedding

“Tonight.” 

You took a small sip of your drink. You could probably get the information he was looking but you wouldn't be as efficient. 

“While we do have a cartographer, he's gone to a family event. If your plans are that urgent I can try my best to fill in.” 

Content with your answers, Vincent leaned back into his seat taking a swig of his drink. You took the finishing sip of yours before pushing out of your chair. 

“I have spare keys in my office. I’ll meet you back here in five.” 

For how commanding and prideful he is, you never expected him to need the services from your hotel.

The maps room was fairly boring. Three out of the four walls were filled with lockboxes to various maps. Blueprints, and documents for France and even some other countries nearby. 

“Are these your beloved catacombs?” The Marquis asks, studying the paper taped to the wall. You asked the map maker for more information and for ideas on what you could do with them. 

You hum in agreement, deep down thrilled that he remembered such a small part of your conversation ages ago. 

Your eyes jump over the numbered lock boxes in front of you, trying to find the one he needs. 

You half expected him to help you pull out maps and building plans, a blend of chivalry, showing off his height, and getting under your skin. He didn’t, letting you struggle with the lock instead. 

Vincent knew he should help you, but the way your back was arched as you tried to open one of the lockboxes out of the dozens was more interesting. His gaze moved over your legs, before looking at your ass in your skirt. 

Feeling the lock give a turn to the side, you peek inside the box to make sure the plans were there. Hand sliding in, you pulled the thin tube out, double-checking the label on the front to make sure it is the one you need. Leaving the box unlocked you turn to face Vincent, a triumphant grin on your face.

Maybe your grin and pride in getting the correct documents were a bit unprofessional but he didn't care. Not since the small room amplified the smell of your perfume and how the spent the better part of the last five minutes checking out your legs. 

Uncapping the tube, you pulled out the blueprints and spread them on the backlist glass table in front of you.

“Here are your prints,” you state awkwardly. You're not sure why he needs them, and why he personally came here. Chidi is keeping guard outside the map room, despite you repeating the hotel policy of no business. 

The Marquis nods in response already focusing on the table. You flatten a small map from the tube in case he needs context on the area. Not likely since he already knows what to look for, proven by his notebook and the constant sound of his pen against the paper taking notes. 

Watching him study the map may have been alright at first, but three hours later you are tired. There are only so many times you can look at his hair and wonder if he would get mad if you run your hands through, or gently tug it. Or what his hands would feel like, especially with his signet ring. 

The grandfather clock tells you that it's only 2:36 am but you feel like it's later. Even Vincent looks slightly less than perfect, hair falling out of place from where he had gelled it that morning.

He is a guest of your hotel so you're going to keep helping him no matter how long he stays. Just with a bit less optimism. 

“Mademoiselle?” Your eyes snap to his face at the sound of his voice, pulling you from your thoughts. 

“You look tired. You should go to bed,” he comments. 

Wow. Thanks, you think. 

“I’m okay. I’m happy to stay here as long as you need,” you say while hoping he leaves soon. “How are the plans going? The cartographer can help you with the finer details when he gets back.” 

“That is not necessary. I have all I need here.” He slowly stretches and starts to stand. You never considered it but being hunched over the table must have been hell on his back given his above-average height. Finally seeing your chance to go to bed, you quickly make it over to the door, opening it for him. 

“Merci, again.” He thanks you as if this is not your job. 

“Do you want me to walk you to the main door?” You have all your floor plans memorized. 

“We are fine.” He replies. 

He looks at you and you can't read his expression. He's less tense, obviously getting what he needed from the plans. 

“The high table did a good job making you the manager.” 

You feel pride swell in your chest, despite the exhaustion you feel behind your eyes. 

“Bonne nuit, Mademoiselle” 

“Bonne nuit. Bon matin.” You quietly wish him as he leaves, wasting no time putting the plans away and locking the map room door. 

You let out another exhaust of bitter smoke, watching it curl away on the cool night air. You didn't start smoking in Paris, but dropped and picked the habit a few times.

“Fumes-tu, Mademoiselle?” a voice behind you makes you flinch. You didn’t tell anyone that you have a secret smoking place, let alone that you went out to smoke. 

You spin around before relaxing at the sight of the Marquis, clad in a dark suit, his signature pin on the lapel reflecting the light. 

You nod, before realizing he probably can't see you well under the lights in the alcove. He is by your side quickly, long legs carrying him the short distance. 

You tip your head to the small table, where your rolling papers, tobacco and other smoking paraphernalia sit in a silent offer. Vincent looks at the table before facing you again. Guess he's too fancy to smoke you assume while taking a drag.

You turn your head to blow out more smoke, careful not to blow it in this direction, a hard feat considering he was extremely close to you. The smell of his cologne drifted under the smell of smoke. 

You move your cigarette down and out to the side, fully ready to see why the Marquis interrupted you. Watching his face, his eyes dipped down to your lips and then back to your eyes almost a silent asking. The smooth and sophisticated era was still there but there was uncertainty under it. 

You slowly leaned closer, not wanting to make the first move, but you want this to happen. He hand-cupped your face, the cool metal of the ring nice as he shifted closer, leaving a small gap for you to make the final push to kiss him. Just a few more inches and then -

Pain. A sharp burning pain on your pinky finger. 

You jerk back, trying to examine what happened. Your cigarette slipped while you were distracted and the glowing embers of the end dropped only to land on your pinky. 

“Shit. Sorry,” you apologize, letting out a nervous huff of a laugh while holding up your burn. The Marquis was unreadable, hand withdrawn. Does he think you rejected him? 

He reaches for your wrist and you let him take it. Slowly he brings your hand up to the outdoor lamp to inspect your burn. The stinging has subsided but you are sure the flesh is a bit swollen. 

With his free hand, he takes the offending cigarette and brings it to his lips. You can't help but stare, cigarette burns long forgotten as you watch him take a deep inhale, before exhaling over your head, so no smoke blows in your face. Part of you regret not making the final push to kiss him, while another hopes he takes another puff. 

Vincent brings your cigarette down to examine it in better lighting before placing it back in your hand, still firmly in his grasp. 

“It is not a well-rolled cigarette. It is too tight.”

There it is you think. The classic Vincent snark. But you secretly hope he rolls one so you can watch his hands and watch him smoke it. 

“You don’t have to smoke it.” 

“I just wanted to give you this.” He reaches into his suitcoat pocket, retrieving a white envelope. His hands brush yours while you grab it. 

You know his handwriting from the time with him in the map room, and you could easily tell he wrote your name on the front. 

“Thank you?” you weren't sure what was inside but you were being all the things he described you as. 

“I will go, and let you read it.” 

You watch him leave, thoughts racing too fast to try and save the situation.

Do you call out after him? Does he think you rejected him? Maybe not because he still gave you the envelope. 

You ash your cigarette before collecting your things and going back to your office. Maybe things would make more sense there.

Taglist: @heartrot666

[viridescenttemple]

HEY EVERYONE HERE IM STILL ALIVE 2K3NRBJR

ART SOON! PROBABLY TODAY OR TOMORROW

IF U WANNA KNOW WHY I HAVENT BEEN POSTING U CAN KEEP READING IF NOT ILL SAY IMA BE POSTING WHATEVER THE FUCK I WANT FROM HERE ON, AS IN DONT EXPECT ART FROM A SPECIFIC FANDOM FROM ME THATS ALL!

SO TO THOSE THAT KEPT READING, I WAS SICK FOR A SHORT WHILE AND DIDNT POST AFTER THAT UNLESS ONCE IN A WHILE, I WAS MORE IN TWITTER BY THEN AS WELL, AS TIME WENT ON I BECAME MORE AND MORE SCARED OF POSTING IN THE INTERNET, AND THE FANDOM I WAS IN WAS NOT GOOD AT THE TIME AS WELL SO THE FEAR KEPT BUILDING UP UNTIL I STOPPED POSTING ANYWHERE ON THE INTERNET [APART WITH CLOSE FRIENDS], ALSO IF UR WONDERING WHY MY TWT IS GONE IS BECAUSE I JUST DID NOT WANT TO BE PART OF THE FANDOM I WAS IN BEFORE AND WANTED TO CUT WITH IT PERMANETLY AND I BECAME SICK OF TWITTER IN ITS ENTIRETY, THE PEOPLE AND THE SITE IN ITSELF JUST IRKS ME IN A WAY I CANT DESCRIBE, TOO AGRESSIVE? I THINK IS THE WORD IM LOOKING FOR, ANWAYS WHY AM I COMING BACK HERE? ONE I CAME TO UNDERSTAND THAT I WOULD LIKE TO KEEP SHARING SOMETHING I LOVE [MY ART] TO THE WORLD, EVEN IF 1 OR 2 PEOPLE SEE IT, TWO IS THAT I DONT HAVE TO MAKE SUPER POLISHED ART TO SHARE THINGS I LIKE, IF IT COMES FROM MYSELF AND I LOVE IT THEN ITS GOOD AND THREE I FIND TUMBLR MORE RELAXING I GUESS THAN I DO OF TWITTER AND I WOULD LIKE TO SHARE MY STUFF IN MY LITTLE CORNER OF THE WORLD

THATS BASICALLY IT, IF YOURE WONDERING I STILL HAVE LIKE 2 TWITTERS STILL UP WITH MY ART ONE IS @/Vivi09039154 AND THE ORHER @/ViceraVermilli1 [privated bc i didnt want more people following it but i cant unprivate it anymore bc i dont have the password help] BUT THEYRE MORE LIKE ARCHIVES THAN ANYTHING, I DONT THINK ILL BE POSTING ON THEM EVER AGAIN AND IM NOT TOUCHING THEM AT ALL

HOPE YALL ARE HAVING A GREAT DAY IF U MANAGED TO READ UNTIL HERE MQBEHJEKE

[dreamtydraw]

do u have any advice for someone starting to draw?

Hmmmm I have a bunch of advices the thing is they worked one me and might not work on everyone but let me share things that helped me in my art journey.

It’s a long post with advices and resources so i hope it can be helpful.

On advices :

Accept the fact that not every art you'll make will be good. Unless you're a full on professional with years of experiences you'll always need to learn things and so, often you'll find flaws in your art. That where it's important to remember to have fun , art shouldn't stress you into making flawless products.

Doodle often. Again you don't have to daily make detailed artworks but doodling will help you progress and helps with creative process.

Find an art format you like. Just like you can't ask a guitarist to play piano, every art mediums are different with their rules. I would advise you to experiment until you find something you're the most comfortable with ( ex i like markers, color pencils and digital art but I despise oil painting )

The quality of your material does matter. It doesn't matter on how well you draw but it does matter in helping you work better so sometimes it's worth saving up for better materials ( do research on what seems the best for you ). This apply for digital tools too ! I only like one app and it's ibis paint...

Copy. Now this doesn't mean blindly trace or steal but find artists or artworks you like and try to find WHAT you like in it and then try to copy it on your own. This goes for anything you want to reference visually, find what you like in it and copy that, if you just copy the reference you don't do much more than being a printer.

Flip your canvas or use a light tablet to turn your sketch. This help you notices anatomy errors more visibly so you can correct them before starting the clean up.

Don't sleep on cartoon. A lot of people say "learn realism before finding your style" and I'd say that not for everyone. If you want to get professionally into art or works on your anatomy then yes you should learn realism because it's the fundamental of anatomy but that not an obligation. One thing you can learn from tho regardless of what you try to do is cartoons. Cartoons are exaggerations of posing, expressions and designs and learning some cartoons rules might help you understand a bit better some notions ( mainly shapes languages and expressions )

Find something that motivates you to draw. Draw for fandoms, draw your oc, draw for yourself but having something that makes you want to draw is important. It's very important that you don't base your motivation on other people's opinion of your art.

Get inspired by other medias. Search about symbolism in other art form, get inspired by movies, books, videos games, people, objects, design etc… Humans are good at making creative stuff, it feed the spirit.

Now on ressources ( That i use or have used )

My personal pinterest board for visual reference

Scan of morpho, a good morphology book

Scan of morpho, about fat and muscles

Post with resources about fat

Tips about character design

Links to Kasey golden Chanels for cartoon inspiration and material review

Post about shapes designs

Hope this can be of help !!