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lynzishell · 3 days

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OC Deep Dive Questionnaire 💛Atlas & Asher🩵

✨TYSM for the tag @raiiny-bay, @zosa95, @dandylion240, @sirianasims, and @hannahssimblr 🤗💖

Of course, I went overboard with this, so grab your favorite beverage and let's dive right in, shall we? ☕💕

-what common/uncommon fear do they have?

💛Atlas: [Pointing to Asher] Water. 🩵Asher: You can’t just leave it at that. It’s not like if you set a glass of water on the table, I’ll run screaming. I have a fear of drowning, so I don’t like to be submerged in water. You’re never going to catch me out swimming. Probably not on a boat either, while we’re at it. Not taking any chances. 💛Atlas: Fair enough. But you won’t even put your face under the water in the shower. 🩵Asher: That’s because it reminds me of being submerged in water. Anyway, this conversation is making me sweaty, and there just happens to be water on the other side of this fence, so let's change the subject. Next question.

-do they have any pet peeves?

🩵Asher: Oh, Atlas fuckin’ hates mindless small talk, like the kind you use just to fill the silence, or because you awkwardly feel like you need to talk to the person next to you. Seriously, he’ll like you a lot more if you just sit next to him in silence for an hour. 💛Atlas: Very true. And yet, your record for silence is, what, twenty minutes? 🩵Asher: Maybe. But I don’t make mindless small talk. 💛Atlas: Yeah, I do like listening to you ramble on about your latest obsessions. You get all animated and excited, it’s really cute. 🩵Asher: You’re really cute.

-what are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

💛Atlas: Uh, I don’t know, what’s in our room besides the obvious? Probably too many electronics. 🩵Asher: Right, between the computer and the switch and my drawing tablet and our phones... 💛Atlas: And your sketchbooks and pencils. How many pencils does someone need? 🩵Asher: I don’t have enough; I’ll tell you that much. Count yourself lucky that most of my art supplies are scattered between Lex’s place and my parents’ house. One day I’ll get it all organized in one place, but that day is not today.

-what do they notice first in a person?

🩵Asher: Hm. That's a good question. What did you notice about me first? 💛Atlas: Your hair, obviously. 🩵Asher: [laughs] 💛Atlas: But no, I would say your eyes. I’d never met anyone with such pure gray eyes before, they’re striking. Your eyes are very expressive too. And you make eye contact with people more than anyone else I know. Like, whenever I talk to you, I always feel like you’re really listening. 🩵Asher: [smiles] I am.

-on a scale of 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?

🩵Asher: Oh god, mine is probably like a 5, and Atlas’s is probably a fuckin’ 8 or 9. 💛Atlas: I would’ve said 7, but we can go with 8.

-do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

💛Atlas: I think my first instinct is freeze, but then probably flight. Depending on the situation, I’ll walk away or hide away. 🩵Asher: Mostly. But with James, you definitely went to fight. 💛Atlas: That was different. I don’t care if people hurt me, but I’m not going to let them hurt the people I love. Ash is definitely more of a fighter than I am.

-do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

🩵Asher: I don’t come from a big family, it’s just my parents, me, my sister, and my niece, but we are very close. But honestly, family isn’t just about relatives. Chosen family is just as important. When I say my family is the most important thing to me, I don’t just mean them, I also mean Atlas and Lex and Dawn and Phoenix and Aspen too. And Jasper, obviously. 💛Atlas: Exactly. If we’re talking about relatives, I come from a very large family, but I will never see or speak to any of them again, except for Dawn, of course. A few years ago, I never would’ve considered myself a family person, but Ash’s family taking me in changed all that. I’d definitely say I am now. 🩵Asher: I love that.

-what animal represents them best?

💛Atlas: Oh, that’s easy. Ash is just like Jasper, his border collie. Playful and energetic, friendly, intelligent, hardworking, and he loves to snuggle. 🩵Asher: Hm. I think for Atlas, I’d say a deer. 💛Atlas: A deer? 🩵Asher: Yeah, like, you’re quiet and cautious, a bit anxious with a tendency to hide, but you’re also beautiful and sweet. 💛Atlas: You make me sound more like a bunny. 🩵Asher: No, definitely not a bunny. Have you ever come upon a big buck deer? They’re majestic and intimidating, and they’ll kick your ass if they have to. They’re… survivors.

-what is a smell that they dislike?

💛Atlas: Ammonia. 🩵Asher: No one likes the smell of ammonia. 💛Atlas: I know, but when I was a kid, at the end of every school year, we’d have to clean our desks with this ammonia spray. Twenty kids spraying ammonia in an enclosed room. It was awful. I’m sure they had the windows open, but even still, that smell is seared into my brain, makes me want to gag just thinking of it.

-have they broken any bones? if so, how?

🩵Asher: Okay, story time! So, when I was ten? Eleven? Something like that. Anyway, I was dancing around in my room, as one does, and I tripped on a book, one of many scattered around my disaster of a room, and tried to catch myself as I went down. Bad decision. I’ll spare you the details, but the pain I felt in my wrist was horrible. I literally saw stars. And then I almost puked when I looked at it. So, of course, I started screaming for my mom. She came running in, and I told her that I’d broken my wrist. And what did she do? She yanked on it and snapped it back into place! Because apparently, I’d just dislocated it. But, fuck, it hurt. If a broken bone is worse than that, then I hope I never break one. 💛Atlas: I broke a toe once. Stubbed it on the corner of my bed when I was in college. I wasn’t good about taping it up or anything either, so it healed a little crooked.

-how would a stranger likely describe them?

🩵Asher: For Atlas? One word: quiet. How they interpret that quietness varies though. Some people think he’s really shy, others think he’s just aloof. But he’s actually neither. He’s introverted and pensive, sure, but he’s also very warm and enjoys chatting with people if it’s a more meaningful conversation, y’know. Like, when we first met, we would talk for hours and hours. 💛Atlas: That’s true, but you’re such an easy person to talk to. I think that’s what people would say about Ash. He’s just very relaxed and friendly and has a way of putting people at ease. He’s good at connecting with people and getting them talking and making them laugh.

-are they a night owl or a morning bird?

🩵Asher: Probably night owls, I’d say. Atlas prefers starting his day later and working late, if he has the option. 💛Atlas: Yeah, but these days, it feels like I’m working all the time. But even still, Ash starts his day earlier. I don’t know. I think he’s somehow both. He has no issues with mornings, but he also gets a burst of energy in the evening and sometimes it’s hard to get him to come to bed. 🩵Asher: To sleep, anyway. 💛Atlas: [laughs] Right.

-what is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

💛Atlas: Ah, Ash hates vinegar and anything pickled. And he loves warm spices like cinnamon and cardamom. 🩵Asher: Oh my god, and Atlas is fuckin’ backwards when it comes to this. He likes bitter flavors to a strange degree, like super bitter beer and strong coffee and he’ll only eat chocolate if it’s the super dark stuff, otherwise he hates it. He doesn’t like sweets. No sugary drinks or candy or even pastries.

-do they have any hobbies?

🩵Asher: We both love gaming and dancing. Otherwise, I like to draw and spend time with my dog. My favorite is taking him down to the beach to play fetch, he loves it there. 💛Atlas: Yeah, and I don’t know, I like to stay active because I feel like I’m constantly at a desk otherwise. I used to rock climb a lot, but since we climbed Mt. Komorebi, we took a break and never really got back to it, so I pretty much just run and work out at the gym occasionally. And I like to sing. 🩵Asher: Seriously, I wish you could hear him. He has the most incredible voice. 💛Atlas: Aw, thank you.

-boom, surprise birthday party! how do they react to surprises?

💛Atlas: Ash would love it! He’d be so stoked that everyone showed up for him like that. 🩵Asher: And Atlas would probably dump me on the spot if I ever did that to him. 💛Atlas: I don’t know if I’d dump you, but… okay, yeah, I probably would.

-do they like to wear jewelry? if so, what is their favorite piece?

🩵Asher: I don’t think I’ve ever seen Atlas wear any jewelry. 💛Atlas: No, I’ve tried, but I could never get used to it. I’d always end up taking it off by midday. 🩵Asher: I can see that. I wear earrings, but that’s it. I used to wear a necklace that an ex gave me, but I threw it out when we broke up. I wanted to throw it into the ocean, but I didn’t dare to walk out on the dock [laughs] so I tossed it in a dumpster instead. 💛Atlas: I didn’t know that. Which ex? 🩵Asher: Elias. 💛Atlas: Ahh. Yikes. 🩵Asher: Yeah. Anyway. Next question.

-do they have neat or messy handwriting?

💛Atlas: I think we both write fairly neat. 🩵Asher: I think so too. Yours is all sharp angles, but it’s not sloppy. 💛Atlas: Yeah, and you have a strong preference for uppercase letters. Sometimes it’s rushed, but it’s never messy. Actually, I’ve never thought about it before, but I really like your handwriting. 🩵Asher: I like yours too.

-what are two emotions they feel the most?

🩵Asher: [points to Atlas] Anxious. 💛Atlas: All of the time. 🩵Asher: And, hm, we can only pick two? I’d probably go with either introspective or focused. 💛Atlas: That’s probably right. For you, I’d say, passionate or inspired and then maybe playful or energetic or something like that. Okay yeah, passionate and playful.

-do they have a favorite fabric?

💛Atlas: Probably cotton, I guess. 🩵Asher: Yeah, same. I don't know. Never really thought about it, to be honest.

-what kind of accent do they have?

🩵Asher: I don’t know. Do we have accents? I mean, I guess Atlas gets a hint of a drawl when he drinks, it’s pretty cute. 💛Atlas: I do not. 🩵Asher: You do! I never told you because I didn’t want you to get self-conscious and try to stop. 💛Atlas: It’s a good thing I don’t drink often, I guess. 🩵Asher: Whatever. I love it. 💛Atlas: And I love you. 🩵Asher: I love you too.

And I love them too!! 🥹

Okay, whew! What are the chances anyone actually read all that? I really can't just be normal about these things, can I? Oh well... Now it's your turn!! I'm gonna tag @madebysimblr, @crownsofesha, @xldkx, @honeyjars-sims, aaaaaaaaaaand @igotsnothing 🤸🏻‍♀️💖 Answer them normally, or have a little fun with it, or ignore me completely, that's fine too (no it's not) 🫶🏻

#seriously tho #if you read all that i love you forever #and i offer you cookies 🍪🍪🍪 and hugs 🤗🤗🤗#tag game #oc tag game #atlas stephens #asher goode #aries outtakes

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malacandrax · 3 days

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hi sry this is a lil long but i just felt like giving my own comments about ur post re: feeling left out/regarding more detailed work, and wanted to say that your work singlehandedly has inspired me SO much to the point that because of your more simplistic coloring/shading and focus on movement/body language, i was finally able to find a coloring/rendering style that i actually like aesthecially and enjoy doing! i've struggled w replicating color in a way i like digitally for over 6 years but your work, and especially so your sketchbook scans on patreon have been so useful for inspiration and for my own understanding of anatomy and what not. we're always our own worst critics with comparison and whatnot, but please know that your work and your style are a huge accomplishment and skill in their own right, and your comics inspire me to keep studying so i can one day make my own!!! i'm so thankful you share your work with us and to have come across it and be able to draw inspiration off it! your colors, expressions, and the palpable intimacy and dynamic character interactions are so amazing and specifically unique to your work, never doubt the impact it has just because of other's having a different style or approach or something <3

This is so extremely nice I don't even know what to say!!! I honestly feel so hyped that my style inspired someone else, I feel like it's not something I expected and its SO COOL. I sometimes feel like my style isn't particularly STYLISH you know, I often admire really strong punchy styles, so it's nice to hear my own kind of chiller style is inspiring! And that the things I enjoy come across as strengths, too! Also I am so happy to hear someone enjoys my sketchbooks haha, they're really precious to me but I also try not to be too fussy about my art in them which means it's not 'beautiful'*- they're for studying and/or chilling out, so it's SO nice that it's inspiring nonetheless! Wishing you the best in your art journey and also I think if you want to make comics you should just give it a go! Make teeny tiny comics! [it does not have to be good] [tangent oh my god] I feel very hypocritical because for the longest time comics were something my friends made and I didn't know how to, and I felt like my style didn't work for comics, but honestly when I eventually sat down and started a long comic the style happened out of necessity, I Had to simplify or I wouldn't be able to keep up. And you can see from the links that I just did sketchy comics before and that was fine! I think it was just as valuable as making polished pages. I actually probably ended up making comics For Real because I made a silly fandom ask blog, where I kept wanting to say more than I could do in one image, and that gave me the confidence to try something longer with OC's.

ANYWAY thank you so much!

*I find polished sketchbooks so inspiring, but its so limiting imo to try to make a beautiful sketchbook HAHAHAH

#this is so many backhanded negatives about my own work im sorry i swear I am not fishing #I love my work!#but i always want to get better!#I get really excited about learning new stuff #opening my sketchbook to draw fucking collarbones or some shit lol #mal talks

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sciderman · 3 days

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I won't lie, there's a centrain magic to reading comics, maybe it's because you have more control over the direction, speed, voices and music when reading over watching something, maybe it's how creative people can get with panel lay-outs, maybe it's all of those things along with the different art styles and way people express themselves through their comic runs, maybe it's the fact there's SO many of them and so many different runs, AUs, versions, solo-stories and characters that while not every comics is for everyone, there's A comics for everyone.

And it's something that only animation can come close to capturing, occasionaly some games because they can give us amazing set pieces and action and stylization through gameplay. But to me live action movies just miss the mark exept a few and even then i just enjoy the comics more.

I think one big thing for me is the narration, because it helps me relate to characters as someone who's thoughts are pretty loud and narration-like, and the fact it's ME who decides how i make the characters sound and talk rather than having to listen to someone else voice the character in a way that i feel isn't "right".

So i'd say personaly it's comics>>books (i like books, and i LOVE fanfics but the visual part stimulates my brain more) >>>animation>games>live action

i agree wholeheartedly! i don't know, i'm kind of in love with the comic medium. but i love writing, also. i just - i really don't like the passivity of animation and television - i need a lot more stimulation than that to get my brain working. i like all the brain work you have to do when you're reading words. and i love the challenge of pulling off "comedic timing" when you don't actually HAVE the dimension of time in your medium exactly - so you have to work with panelling, and you have to work with spacing in your writing - and it's just so sexy and more active for the brain. like you're inventing a language.

comedy writing in comics is so, so fulfilling because you're a comedian, but your format is visual. you need to rely on visual language to carry it. and jokes are all about expectation and subversion and timing. a joke can fall so flat if that timing is off. and - i don't know, i'm obsessed with comics, as if they're some kind of form of visual poetry. it's taken for granted, i think. it's taken for granted.

i think you become more restricted the more dimensions you introduce - so - writing is entirely free. you can do WHATEVER you want, all by yourself, without needing to rely on the quality of your art software or the actors you have at your disposal or anything - you can conjure any visual you like. comics - more challenging, you're limited by your artistic ability but again - you're not restricted by voice cast - god, i love being able to conjure any voice at all in my head for the boys. i think if i was restricted by voice actors i'd have to write them differently, et cetera et cetera... i'd be dealing with VAs and saying "actually. your delivery is all wrong. i have to rewrite the joke." - i'm so particular about these things, you have no idea.

i remember the first time i watched the deadpool movie after having read the original script over and over YEARS prior and having heard it play out in my head in the most hilarious of ways and then. hearing ryan's delivery of those jokes and thinking "oh. it's not that funny actually."

sorry ryan. it might've been funnier if i hadn't read the script already and hadn't already had the movie play out in my brain way funnier than how you did it. sorry. my brain is a better cinema.

something i also love about print vs film - i've had this problem with a lot of adaptations - i despise film adaptations of books i love, just because - something is so sullied about having so many hands in the pot. actors. camera men. producers. directors. all these people - when - what i loved about the book was feeling close to the author. it's just me and him. we're together, intimately. and all of that intimacy gets lost when you know there's a huge film crew behind it.

kind of weird. i love reading a book and just, giggling over the pages, like it's a joke between me and the author. i don't know, i'm a weird little saddo who craves intimacy. so i like the intimacy of it being a one-man show. i love things where i can feel close to the creator. i hope that's why people like my things too. and it's why i like my things. i sometimes think "ouugh. why can't i work for marvel" but i think about how - i'm lucky i get to create what i want to create without having to compromise or answer to editorial. and what i create can always be unapologetically me. and that means more. that means so much more.

#sci speaks #sorry marvel you'd ruin me.#im cringe and i am free

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electrozeistyking · 3 months

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"Never be Alone"

Started on the sixth of January and planned to be finished on the fourteenth, but landed up not doing that. Somewhere on the sixteenth, I basically said "haha whoops" and pumped out twenty panels. According to Procreate, it took 15 hours and 37 minutes to finish Panels 1-10; 27 hours and 15 minutes on Panels 11-20; and 34 hours and 8 minutes for Panels 21-30.

In total, I have no idea. I just know it took some serious time.

Unlike with She's Gone, I wrote a script. Well, all I wrote was dialogue and some minor actions for Panels 5-23, though lines were changed "in post." Everything else was by the seat of my pants. However, I can say for sure that I was planning on ending it with N being hopeful, but all I had room for was him crying. He cannot catch a break.

(also to those who suspected uzi was still in there, guess you were right all along.)

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spookberry · 29 days

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I put them next to each other casually without much thought, but I've had to redraw them in this set up so many different times in the development of this project that I kinda ship them now??? like why are they always lookin at each other like that

#my art #vampire debutante #they dont even have names #but its funny in the very vague concept of these twos characters yellow is like the hunk that all their peers are kind of obsessed with #tiara and niamh even fight over him sometimes(for status reasons not cuz theyre into him)#but i was imagining red as like a bit dorky but sweet #girls arent into him really but they dont turn him down when he asks to dance or tries to make polite conversation #in an earlier draft i was gonna have a bit where Niamh and Tiara are both vying for red's attention and Niamh wins so they dance #Tiara's only other option then is red who isnt as hunky as yellow (L for her) as she needs a dancing partner to show up niamh with #but i didnt wanna animate the stupid little dance battle so i didnt do that #now the boys are just hanging #but the fact that i keep drawing yellow making eyes at red is so funny like thats just supposed to be his default expression but #do you think hes really into red and half of his showboating is just to try and get this dweebs attention but literally nothing works #meanwhile red's just sorta accepted his role as the dweeb that no one's into #oh my god

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eternal-moss · 1 month

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When people continually whitewash my favourite characters.

[ID: A black and white, rough digital drawing of someone sitting at a desk and clutching their head in their hands. End ID.]

^thank you @describe-things

#This is mainly about Noé Archiviste. But also I will not forget what some people did to Simon Petrikov either when I was watching f&c #I’m so desperate for drawings of them. But for the love of God，is it that difficult? Somehow every other hexadecimal of their #Character design is exactly on model other than their skin. Just. .#OH YEAH I FORGOT KAEYA. FFS. Somehow it’s always the K**luc-ers that always do it. Which makes sense because they disregard his entire char #And with the new influx of atla fans people have been whitewashing Katara too! And I mean drawings of the original show too #probably delete later #And no one seems to have any problems with it? Especially if it’s sexualised art *talking more about Kaeya & Noé here.#People who whitewash the few (and when I say few I literally mean 5/82 playable characters) darker genshin characters. Actually fuck off #If I see ‘it’s just my art style’ or ‘it’s just the lighting’ *every other colour than the skin hasn’t been lightened in the slightest*#One more time-i’m going to explode #Oh and while I’m on this topic! Fuck Bochum for whitewashing literally the entire starlight express cast! Electra being the first ever #non binary character in musical theatre while also being played by black actors. And then Bochum happened.#When was the last time Pearl or Rusty had actors who weren’t white? Literally the last character who hasn’t been replaced is Momma/Poppa.#And being black is so integral to their character and music. You quite physically couldn’t #I really really hope the casting for the London performance this year is like the 1984 cast again. Please.

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toonagi · 1 month

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another sketch page because i like making them lol. unagi time

#i wanted to draw unagi making facial expressions that aren't just. garfield face #he emotes a lot i just tend to default to either drawing him a) tired or b) as a smug bastard #since he's my fursona um. you might be able to tell which of my traits i accidentally projected onto him #(infodumping infodumping infodumping)#man drawing him like this really makes me realize. this fuckin loser baby is a lot like me irl huh. like more than i thought #(<- crybaby impulsive infodumper with blunt affect)#interstellar is a really good movie by the way. if you're. for some reason looking for movie recommendations in furry art tags #oh i should probably mention. the gun in the doodle on the right is a splattershot jr lol #god i am. so normal about things. and also him #furry #furry art #furry oc #digital art #anthro #anthro art #artists on tumblr #fursona #toonagi art #art #sketch #sketch page #doodles

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clockworkflicker · 2 years

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In Sickness and In Spite

3.5k words, F cold. Familiarity with the source material is not required.

Fi/re Emb/lem Thr/ee Ho/pes — platonic Hubert & Monica. Snzfic + character study. These idiot rivals begrudgingly care about each other, your honor! Cue mlm-wlw bickering. Inspired by this post about ice magic. We love a sniffly traumatized mage.

Content warnings for wartime medieval fantasy setting, referenced past imprisonment, and mess.

“Return to the eastern encampment at once, and see to it that our reserves are told to prepare for the capture of Arianrhod.”

The faintest of smiles threatens to tug at Hubert’s lips as he hands a letter off to the courier standing at attention in his quarters. His expression, which the courier might later describe as “reeking of malicious contentedness” is one that Hubert’s fellow commanders are slowly growing used to as this war drags on, but it still sends a chill down the spines of those less familiar with the man’s more dubious qualities.

“Count Bergliez is to bring his troops to Arianrhod to hold the city in our absence, do I make myself clear?”

The man’s voice is smooth as dark chocolate, and equally rich, the courier finds himself thinking as he accepts the letter from Hubert. Of course, now is no time to indulge in chocolate, nor thoughts of admiration of a man’s voice. How foolish.

“I’ll see it done.”

Hubert folds his arms and gives a subtle nod. “Good. Well then, safe travels.”

The courier leaves, and Hubert finds himself once again alone in his quarters. He considers stepping out to check in with Lady Edelgard and discuss upcoming battle plans, but he thinks better of it once he pulls the drape from the entrance to his tent and sees that the sun has already set. They’ll be marching again early in the morning, and Her Majesty is likely to be asleep (or attempting to sleep, at least) by this hour.

He lights the lantern at his desk and sets a kettle to boil for coffee. His body feels heavy after the day’s skirmish at Magdred Way, but his mind isn’t quite ready to sleep. His troops encountered those damn Agarthan mages looming between the trees at Magdred. Evidence of their continued presence in this war, pulling the strings from behind the curtains, is enough to keep him up at night — not that he’d ever admit to such a thing. Given that he’s not sleeping just yet, there’s no sense in squandering an opportunity to get some work done, so he settles down with a stack of paperwork and quill.

Outside, a chorus of crickets come alive for the night, cautiously chirping along with the smoky early-autumn breeze and the occasional chatter from other commanders and soldiers passing by. After some time, the sound of a harsh sneeze pierces the white noise. Hubert casts a slow glance to his tent’s entrance. It sounded close by, but no one’s immediately outside the tent. He sets the distraction aside and returns to the list of provisions he was perusing.

But he can’t help but notice that the crickets’ song is punctuated by the occasional sniffle. Is that new, or has he only just noticed it now, he wonders. After a few minutes, there’s another sneeze, this one more high pitched than the last, followed by a slow, laden groan. It’s a familiar groan, he realizes. He knows exactly who it belongs to.

Unlike Monica von Ochs, Hubert does not possess a perfect memory. But given the frequency with which the woman expresses irritation around him, he would be remiss not to recognize the sound of her grumbling.

Her tent isn’t far from his. “I’m Her Majesty’s vassal just as much as you are,” Monica had insisted when they’d been setting up their base camp last week. “If she has need of me, I wish to be prepared and nearby.”

While Hubert finds her near-constant presence and general lack of composure to be somewhat grating, he certainly cannot complain about the woman’s dedication. Monica is, above all else, a valuable asset to the army and confidant to Her Majesty.

The kettle boils. He sets his quill aside and finds the coffee grounds he’d packed in his satchel. His eyes fall on the Almyran pine tea blend he keeps handy next to his stash of coffee grounds — a provision should he find a spare moment to enjoy a warm beverage with Ferdinand.

Hubert briefly regards the pine needles. Certainly not the ideal tea for a cold, and he can’t imagine his neighbor would particularly want his company. And yet...

~~~

There’s ice in her veins and haze clouding her head, and that’s really all there is to say on the matter. She sits at her desk, bundled up in her cloak with a quill and stack of paperwork. The flickering light from her lantern blurs her vision, eyes half-lidded and threatening to grow too rheumy to make out the words.

Not that it matters much. The chill gnawing at her bones from the inside out is enough of a distraction on its own that Monica finds herself wholly unable to make a dent in the status report she’s meant to have on Her Majesty’s desk by tomorrow morning.

She sniffles in irritation. She’d managed to doze off immediately after returning from Magdred this afternoon, but sleep held little respite. After a few hours of tossing and turning, she’d gasped awake, shivering with ire and cold sweat, unpleasant memories distorted by the whims of her feverish subconscious still vivid in her mind. With some effort, Monica had forced herself upright, shakily grasping the glass of water beside her bed and taking a drink.

She’s never forgotten what it’s like to be locked up in a cell — how could she? They say time heals all wounds, but such a thing can’t be true; not for her. While the sands of time are kind enough to erode others’ painful memories, weathering away sharp edges into manageable curves, Monica needs only close her eyes to find herself back on that cold stone floor, every detail in place, nothing forgotten. Exactly 296 stone blocks comprised the wall she had been chained to. That horrible woman’s raucous laugh, which always hit G#, no higher, no lower. The gleam of her athame, teasingly pressed below Monica’s jaw with just enough force to draw a thin line of fresh blood. The warm ferrous odor intermingling with the cool musk of the dungeon and that woman’s near-intoxicating scent of patchouli, sage, and mahogany.

And knowing Her Majesty was put through something so much worse; held in a cell and poked, prodded, sliced open, then reassembled as a tool of war? It makes her blood boil.

Her head had swam from sitting up so fast; a reminder that this Goddess-forsaken fever is going to literally boil her blood if she’s not careful.

Against her better judgement, she’d lit her lantern and dragged herself to her desk to take care of some paperwork. As much as she’d love to drift back off to sleep, the thought of going back there — even if only in a dream — is more than enough to keep her wide awake for a few more hours. Normally, she’d go out for a run or a swim to clear her head and simmer down, but she frankly can’t imagine her body will comply today.

Pinching her nose with a handkerchief that has long outlived its usefulness, Monica distantly wonders what would’ve become of her in that cold dark cell, had Her Majesty not come to her aid. She’d be dead, probably. It’s a useless thought, but one that plagues her nonetheless. Her nose is no less damp when she pulls the cloth away, so she sniffles again and resigns to just cleaning herself up with the inner collar of her cloak, soft fabric feeling like sandpaper against her nostrils.

“Monica?” A low voice from outside her tent startles her back to reality. “It’s Hubert. I have a matter I’d like to discuss, if you wouldn’t mind my company at this hour.”

She hesitates. Company is the last thing she wants right now. Well, perhaps she wouldn’t mind if it was Lady Edelgard or Dorothea...

“I’ll leave you be if you’d prefer it,” Hubert continues when she doesn’t reply. “But I thought it prudent to offer some tea.”

Still no response. Hubert briefly wonders if she’s managed to fall asleep. But then a small sniffle breaks the silence, followed by the sound of shuffling blankets. Monica draws aside the thick cloth draped over her tent’s entrance, eyes tilted up to meet his. Her brow is knit in confusion, but her gaze is glassy and distant. By the look of things, it was indeed the prospect of tea that coaxed her out.

She finds Hubert stood before her, holding two cups, warm steam gently rising from both. Monica doesn’t need her sense of smell to know their contents. One black coffee — a preposterous choice of beverage at this hour — and one Almyran pine tea. It’s almost a comedic image, the way the man's usual looming presence is kneecapped by something as mundane as a warm drink.

“You keep Almyran pine needles on your person specifically for Ferdinand,” she says plainly, her voice hoarse around the edges. “Why offer them to me?”

A slight frown draws Hubert’s lips. This woman is irritatingly perceptive and straightforward, especially when it comes to relationships he would prefer she kept quiet about.

But even in the low light, he can see the exhaustion plainly written across Monica’s face; dark thumbprints pressed beneath her eyes, a glimmer of moisture sits below her pinkish nose, her pallor framed by a mess of untamed burgundy locks. Judging by the paperwork strewn about on her desk, he figures she’s been just as busy as he’s been this evening. It’s not all that cold out, but her slight frame is swallowed up in a heavy winter cloak. Despite this, she looks to be shivering a little, and Hubert makes a mental note to check later if any of her reports from this excursion will need to be rewritten due to shaky handwriting.

While Monica is objectively the shortest commander in the Adrestian army, her shrewd demeanor and prowess on the battlefield are more than enough to compensate for what she lacks in height. But for the first time in years, Hubert finds himself thinking that she just looks small.

“You’re ill,” he says, matching her matter-of-fact tone.

“Yes, and?” Her eyes narrow, unfocused, and she inhales an uneven breath, then another. She ducks to the side with a horribly gruff sneeze, snatching the collar of her cloak up to meet her face as she shudders forward with the force of it. “ihh- hheh-! hHT’CHHUHshh!”

“And tea serves the dual purpose of perhaps offering some relief while also coaxing you away from your paperwork.” Hubert gives a small sigh, still looking stoic. “I should admonish you for working late in such a state.”

She scoffs, the watery phlegm crackling in her airways making her sound far more pitiful than disdainful, much to her chagrin. Wincing, she snuffles and rubs at her nose through the fabric. When she clears her throat, it does absolutely nothing for her wrecked voice. “As if you’re not guilty of the same.”

“Unlike you, I possess the sense not to work myself sick.”

“If you say so.” Knowing the man’s work-life balance (or lack thereof), Monica finds that statement highly unlikely. If she weren't so sick, she’d call him out for it, but she can’t quite muster the energy to get worked up over it at the moment. Another chill shakes through her, and it occurs to her that she’d much rather be sitting than standing, and a warm drink really does sound nice. She swallows thickly and glances away. “Anyway, I, um, I won’t say no to tea. If you’re offering.”

“That is why I’m here, yes,” Hubert says with a hint of levity, handing her a cup.

She gratefully accepts it, the deliciously warm ceramic prickling her cold fingertips. The rising steam causes her nose to run a bit more than it already was, but she revels in its gentle heat. “You said there was something you wanted to —” she pauses to sniffle, and exhales a tired, drippy guhh. “— to discuss?”

~~~

The two sit beside a small fire, tucked away at the edge of the base camp. On any other day, Monica would have simply invited Hubert to join her in her quarters, but she can’t imagine she’d be able to keep this damn cold to herself in such a small enclosed space, so this will have to do.

“Were you unwell when we marched on Magdred this morning?” He asks, settling down on a fallen log once he’s convinced he’s fed the fire enough wood to sustain itself. The flames dance, bathing them both in a warm glow amidst the dusky woods.

She shakes her head. “What, would you expect me to delay our troops because of a sore throat? I simply did what was necessary.” Monica takes a careful sip of her tea. Swallowing hurts, but it warms her from the inside out. Although her senses are too dulled to get a good handle on the flavor, she finds the tea has a distinct, earthy quality. It reminds her of simpler days spent hunting in the mountainous woodlands scattered about inland Ochs territory.

“And last night?” Hubert raises an eyebrow.

“I thought it was just exhaustion and nerves, at that point. We’d been marching all day, after all.” Smoke from the fire makes her sinuses burn, prompting her to retreat further into her cloak with a watery sniff, almost like a turtle into its shell.

“For someone so perceptive, you certainly posses an impressive lack of self-awareness.” He tilts his head with a slight smirk. “Perhaps if you didn’t so frequently find yourself flush with rage or affection, you wouldn’t struggle to tell apart fatigue from fever.”

She glowers. “Perhaps if you grew flush with rage every now and again, you wouldn’t have the complexion of a coffin-dweller.” Smoke catches in her throat as she speaks, completely stripping the insult of any teeth it may have had otherwise. She muffles a few weary coughs against her collar, causing a bit of mess to spill from her nose and create another dark patch on the fabric.

Hubert exhales a dry laugh. In spite of everything, it’s good to see that she’s at least well enough to quip back. “Well, there’s nothing to be done for it now. But do try to be more conscientious of your limits.”

Monica narrows her eyes with a sniff. “I know very well how hard I can push myself, thank you.” As if to deny her claim, the irritation in her airways causes her breath to hitch. Her eyes squint shut and her face contorts into an expression somewhere between a grimace and a snarl. She snaps forward with a desperate and distressingly sick-sounding sneeze, frantically aimed at the fabric resting atop her shoulders. She’d meant to stifle, but there’s only so much one can do when attempting to restrain such a forceful sneeze hands-free. She fumbles her cup of tea, spilling a bit in the process.

“And yet I can’t help but find your form as of late to be rather... rash.” Hubert turns his eyes back to the fire, not wishing for his gaze to be a source of further embarrassment for his stricken companion.

The gesture does not go unnoticed, and she’s grateful for it. The space between her nose and lips is slick, and a string of glistening mess dangles precariously from her septum to her cloak before falling against her chest. She instinctively snuffles, and immediately regrets doing so, as it produces a horribly soupy sound and reignites the burning itch. She hastily sets her tea aside and clutches at her collar with steepled hands, trembling with a flurry of quick, audibly damp breaths, until —

“ihheH- hH’KSSCH’ue! …hh? …hht’KSSCH’uhh!”

The second sneeze rends her throat, leaving her airways and collar absolutely drenched. With a small, exhausted groan, she allows herself just a brief moment of feeling sorry for herself before tending to her nose. She’s soaked through the fabric in her hands, and finds herself wondering if she needs to worry about running out of cloak. After finding a suitably dry spot, Monica draws a handful of cloak to her face and begins cleaning herself up. The stinging sensation of dry fabric against slick, inflamed skin makes her wince. “How so?”

“Lady Edelgard tells me you’ve had quite the talent for fire magic since you were young, and I must agree. The army would be remiss without a skilled mage such as yourself to set enemy strongholds ablaze.”

If she were alone, Monica would have blown her nose by now, but the thought of doing so in front of someone else makes her stomach twist in a knot. Clearly, if his unprompted arrival at her tent with tea is anything to go by, she's assaulted Hubert (and the rest of the camp, for that matter) with far too great a volume of sick noises as is. Goddess, she hopes Her Majesty hasn't overheard any of this. Monica settles for gently pinching her nose between the slick fabric, which does, blessedly, remove a decent amount of moisture. She gives a tired sigh, cautiously reaching down to retrieve her tea, almost afraid another sneeze will cause her drop it without warning. “What’re you getting at?”

Hubert gestures to the jet black tome strapped to her hip. “You’ve been teaching yourself ice spells recently. Why?”

“What kind of question is that?” She crinkles her nose. “Sometimes it’s more beneficial to freeze an enemy in place than set them on fire. Anyone can benefit from being more versatile.”

“Is versatility truly your reason, though? The elemental whiplash you must be giving yourself can’t be healthy.” Hubert gives her a knowing look as he raises his coffee to his lips.

Monica stares at him, then looks down at her tea. Assailing an enemy with flames, followed up by an ice spell, is going to inflict more pain than fire alone. That’s her reason. It’s that simple.

“We’ve recently been fighting more of the people who imprisoned Her Majesty and me. The dark mages at Magdred, for example. I...” she pauses with a sharp sniffle, frustrated with this cold, frustrated with Hubert for prompting her to confront one of her more wicked impulses at a time like this, frustrated with herself for being such a deeply bitter person. “I want it to hurt.”

Hubert remains silent and his expression unreadable, much to Monica’s annoyance. She presumes that his lack of reaction means she’s just confirmed something he was already aware of. Goddess, she hates how he seems to know her vices better than she knows them herself.

Finally, he speaks. “I understand.” His voice is low and surprisingly sincere. “Not a day goes by that I don’t lament my failure to protect Her Majesty when it mattered most.”

‘I understand’ is a bit of an unspoken compromise between two people who will never truly see eye to eye. Their ire for Edelgard’s captors is not equivalent, and they both know it. Hubert is cold and calculating, more than able to channel his emotions into neat, underhanded tactics that will serve Her Majesty well. But for Monica, it’s a spiteful, burning hatred that hungers for vengeance. It’s selfish and cruel and everything she wishes she wasn’t.

Hubert continues. “But, for Lady Edelgard’s sake, if not your own, I ask that you don’t do this to yourself. Even the most skilled mages aren’t equipped to deal with recoil from opposing elements. I suspect you’re intimately aware of this fact.”

He’s not wrong, Monica must admit. Ice magic has a way of chilling its caster to the bone, and alternating between fire and ice always leaves her a sniffly mess. It’s caused easily-ignored colds to turn debilitating more times than she’d care to let on. She doesn’t know what to say. She hadn’t expected anyone, let alone Hubert, of all people, to care.

Before she can fully sort out her thoughts, a familiar burning sensation bristles at her sinuses. Her mouth hangs slightly open in uncertainty, brow furrowed, and a small, wavering breath sifts through her teeth. Monica teeters on the precipice for just a moment. Watery mucus drips down one flared nostril, then the other, pooling above her lip. She dares not sniffle, or else —

“ihhh-? hehh- hED’SSHuuh!”

She ducks to the side and clings desperately to her teacup as a half-stifled shivery sneeze seizes her, sending another unfortunate deluge of soupy mess down her face. Goddess, she’s tired. “snndffl. ghuhh. You could say that.”

Once again, she sets aside her tea and takes to tending to her nose. “Look, Hubert, I appreciate the concernd, but I...” she trails off with a congested groan and shakes her head. “I don’t know.”

“Far be it from me to lecture you,” Hubert says, standing from his seat on the log and turning to leave, “but destroying yourself won’t change the past.”

“Where are you going?” Monica looks up at him, confused.

“To fetch my kettle. You’re still shaking, and have just about spilled the last of the tea.”

Pulling her cloak a little tighter around herself, she watches him walk back to his tent. She thinks that perhaps, just this once, he might have a point.

#y'alllllll it's finally FINALLY done!!!!!!#i've been working on this since late july and it went through like three rewrites so I Am Thrilled To Be Done. happy sicktember!#monnie is one of the worst written characters ive ever seen in a video game #she had so much potential to be interesting and the breadcrumbs are certainly there but GOD #the writers hecked the fuck up #thankfully i know how to write her Correctly #the devs just straight up handed us a canon lesbian and said #'she's horribly traumatized and has a ton of ugly emotions simmering below the surface but we're not going to address any of that'#anyway i had a great time writing about these two. monica is just So Much and hubert is hubert [affectionate]#also this has almost nothing to do with this particular fic but you can't tell me that monica doesnt fuck a sneeze okay #the sky is blue. capitalism sucks. mon/ica von o/chs is a sneezefucker. these are immutable truths #the fact that she canonically has a running tally of how many times edel/gard has expressed concern for her health is proof enough #(i looked it up. the tally is at 208 at the time of the cutscene she mentions it)#this woman is unhinged we love to see it #i'd also point to her love for tea (and making tea for edel/gard) if it weren't for the fact that 90% of the cast loves tea #'oh lady edelgard! it's chilly out! would you like some tea? a coat?' girl. honey. i know what you are.#th/ree hou/ses and th/ree ho/pes are such funny games. these bitches really do just swing swords and drink tea all day long #my art #my writing #btw this isn't beta'd so if you see a typo or something that makes no sense please PLEASE tell me

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margumis · 1 year

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He is just a silly little guy pulling you closer every chance he gets, wrapping you in tapes of his love.

(We don't talk about the wack anatomy, messy lines and HANDS)

Love you, Mars 💖

I THOUGHT WE AGREED TO ATTACK LUKE TODAY (im smiling ear to ear and I am so extremely giddy and grateful)

ME AND SILLY ME AND SILLY ME AND SILLY ME AND SILLY

sorry im losing my mind look at us heheheh <333333

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br1ghtestlight · 1 year

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i have to finish homework by monday and i have background art that was supposed to be drawn like YESTERDAY but im still like hehe what if i write bobs burgers fanfic

#i love drawing i really do!!!! its like my favorite thing in the world #but oh my god it takes SO LONG and i prefer doing expressions vs background design which quite frankly is a chore #i feel like im just not in my art grove lately idk #i also have to do voice acting but uhh im sick <3 i dont want to do that rn #so bobs burgers fanfic it is #(like hell im doing schoolwork lmfao)#txt

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transmascnepetaleijon · 2 years

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man fuck the cultural industry i hate the cultural industry. direct product of capitalism and main force of homogenization globally. its like colonialism but made fun i hate it

#i was studying it for my sociology final #and then i look at my phone and theres something about marvel lmaooo #at this point the only way i can see marvel is #as a glaringly obvious over hyped concoction of propaganda and lazy product of the cultural industry #that person is right we need more weird and fucked up shit to be made and we need to disconnect art from capitalism cus oh my GOD #its so stupid really. i suddenly understand *why* alternative cultures and marginalized groups are never in movies #**its cus they dont want to bring this kind of diversity on screen for the sake of homogeny**#this is why i think we should stop playing by the games rules and just go crazy go stupid with alternative art expression #but what do i know right #exposion is also good in a mainstream medium for normalization of difference #so maybe the answer really is more divercity on screen #youll still end up falling in the vault of using diversity as a selling point eother because of the companys advertisment of your media #or bc you got excited and wanted to make the people you made it for look at it (double edged sword)#idk man i think we should tear this industry down i really despise it #txt

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bee-turtle-kind · 2 years

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loving puppetry hours

#august squawks #god i love it so so so so much #personal projects #puppetry #ive been working on a horror comic focused on puppetry. not the ooohhh puppet is possesed oh no and more doll based ones #but trying to apply real life usable puppet concepts to puppet characters due to psychological horror reasons is SO FUN #people dont realize the amount of mechanisims that go into it and the complexity of even a simple design #like. the bear from the big blue house I just <33333333 love love love #i have my first introduced puppet based on his mechanics loosely because its the most confusing kind in terms of not being what it seems #if you dont know the bear in the big blue house has his right hand controlling the head with basic hand motions and a few basic mechanisims #like i think a lever just to control the degree of eyebrow height #while one arm functions normally as the bears arm #the other is actually a foam one thats linked to the other arms movement #i think i may of mixed up right and left there but oh well lmao #i just love the fact its not suoer complex. its not insane out of this world but such a good efficient convination of basic tools #and you CAN TELL the bear is so expressive...his sniffing..... i love it #i dont really portray it as well as id like in my comic art wise but im having ei much fun because puppets <3 #tatag rambles #rambles #positive

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lotus-pear · 4 months

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YAAAAAYYYY ITS FINALLY HERE!!! ty guys sm again for 5k i rly appreciate it <3

rules and guidelines under the cut!

rules and due date (i've never done this before so bear w me ok!!):

-due date will be march 1st! i will accept entries a few days late dw i'm nor ur professor or smth BUT I WOULD RLY PREFER IF U GET IT DONE BY THEN (just dm me if u need more time)

-pls tag ur finished piece under #lotuspear5kdtiys and dont forget to mention my user @lotus-pear! if i neglect to reblog ur piece then pls lmk even though that probably won't happen bc i'll be checking that tag every day for new entries👹

-pls don't trace the art.. i'll be really sad if u do that :(((( if u need help at all w the posing or hands then shoot me an ask or weed ur way into my dms bc ik this is kind of a complicated piece

-anyone can participate!! u don't have to be following me or anything and it's fine if we've never interacted before

-colors and expression are completely flexible and i'd even encourage playing around w it since the final product isn't meant to mimic my style. if u can then pls try to keep the pose relatively similar although i don't mind if it's changed a little bit. whatever is most comfortable to u as the artist.

-if u guys want to see the piece without any shading or rendering then pls dm me, ik it might be easier for some ppl to just see the bare sketch or the lineart w base colors

prizes🤩 (ik this is what u guys are rly after /j):

-alr so ik everybody's all like "well what's in this for me🤨" oh my god if u would just let me explain 😐 i'll be choosing three winners and two honorable mentions amongst all the contestants

-the top three winners get a follow (yea ok kinda sucky but wtv) AND they get to commission a fully rendered piece from me of a single character of their choice for free >:) (i'll discuss the details w the winners in two months)

-the two runner ups will also get a follow from me AND they get to commission a sketch of a single character from me (again, i'll discuss what this entails in further detail when the honorable mentions are selected in two months)

————

ermmm yea i think thats it for now i'll come back and edit the post if i feel the need to add anything.. HAVE FUN GUYS I CANT WAIT TO SEE WHAT U GUYS DO🫶🏼🫶🏼

#lotuspear5kdtiys #lotus draws #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #dazai osamu #osamu dazai

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max1461 · 3 months

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I spend most of my internet time on YouTube. It's a good website, I like video. But it's gotten demonstrably worse in the past five(?) years. I've posted about this a thousand times because it bothers me so much.

I am not sure exactly what the cause is, maybe changes in the algorithm or maybe better optimization by creators, but YouTubers by and large seems to have shifted from content to "content". Everything on the platform seems to have less substance. It's showier but completely vapid.

Actually it's not quite that, it's more specific. Today, every video has to have a narrative, it has to have suspense and payoff, even if that's completely shoehorned.

A good example of this is Minecraft videos. I don't actually watch a lot of Minecraft videos, but the change is really easy to demonstrate in this genre. The bread and butter of Minecraft YouTube used to be tutorials and let's plays. Tutorials are relatively brief but high information density; the point of a tutorial is to share knowledge with the audience. Let's plays are slower-paced and lower information density, they provide a kind of relaxing background entertainment similar to certain podcasts. The point is to chill out to them. Game Grumps is just about the only big channel still making let's plays of this form (not for Minecraft, just... at all).

Today, both tutorials and let's plays are second fiddle to the ubiquitous challenge video. Challenge videos are brief but low information density. They fundamentally have nothing to say. They have titles like "is it possible to farm 10,000 wheat in Minecraft in a month???", and the creator will attempt the challenge, cut together clips of their exploits in a rapid, high-intensity style, and generally try to craft these clips into a "suspenseful" narrative. They want us to ask "oh no, will he be able to do it????" But the narrative is always cheap and boring because it's so plainly post hoc. These videos provide none of the genuine emergent narrative or casual humor/banter of a good let's play, and none of the information of a tutorial. They're just faux-suspense, faux challenge, all the meat cut out and nothing but the trappings left over. Meaningless.

All of YouTube is like this now. Every video title has to have Big Number. "I dug 10,000 blocks in Minecraft!!!" "I spent 1000 dollars on vending machines in Japan!!!!" "I wore 50lbs leg weights!!!!"

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP. Give me anything. It doesn't have to be art. Give me information, give me entertainment, give me humor. Give me something, anything, other than Big Number. I cannot express to you the degree I don't care about Big Number. I have never been curious about Big Number. FUCK OFF WITH BIG NUMBER. I don't care about challenges I don't care about Most and Best and Top and Biggest. How about New, Cool, Fun, or Charming? Anything but Most. My god, shut the fuck up about Most forever.

I'm a Most hater. Fuck Most for all eternity.

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somerandomdudelmao · 14 days

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OKAY SO GENERAL THOUGHTS AND SOME HYPOTHESES BASED UPON THE INFORMATION WE HAVE:

Holly is from Teegarden; a place where either all of his species can shapeshift or he himself is some kind of priest of whatever god they worship that has given him the ability to shapeshift. If ALL of the Teegardenians have innate shapeshifting, this makes the bird hunting Inherently More Sinister, but it makes far more sense to me for Holly to be special, because he says he's from a temple and attributes his shapeshifting to god. It also makes sense for Holly to be special amongst his species because Sculptor asked Oscar and Ward 'Which of you is smarter?'

They're keeping higher quality/more unique specimens in The Vault and maintaining them for some reason.

When Ward is still Very Much Ravaged by whatever the fuck the Science Scrapers were doing, we see probably-Sculptor saying they should put him specifically with 'someone peaceful'. We don't know why they have taken this consideration beyond determining he's not going to be a danger to a more peaceful inmate, but we do know Holly is also missing an eye, which means that must be part of the 'forcibly extracting information from a creature's body and brain' process. Ward was not doing any talking, they got the information about Oscar's laptop via stealing it out of his brain. Sculptor was not separating the dangerous smart one from the harmless stupid one. The Echolocators (this will be my shorthand for the rest of the Q) fully believe themselves to be above both these weird little dudes, but they know from experience they can get more, better information about humans out of the smarter of the two.

Holly sighs sadly and says 'they've found another civilization to destroy', and he's been kept alive alone in the vault for an indefinite period of time while the general ecosystem of his planet appears to be intact enough for regular hunting excursions. Either the Echolocators circle around regularly between planets they've previously colonized to keep the base resources on each planet fresh, or they are in the middle of ravaging specifically Teegarden beyond livability, and will move on to Earth next now that they've conveniently found some fun new pets. I believe the use of 'civilization' is significant enough to suggest it's the former, which is Way Scarier because they've also noted humans are edible and taste good.

A species of colonizer aliens being set up in an ant-like colony is delightful by the way. Also I saw someone in the notes saying 'oh no she doesn't know about The Incident' over Ecliptica being like 'I didn't really check on Ward, science is boring to me' and would just like to say No. Ecliptica absolutely knows about the unethical Whatever That Was and The Vault. She just doesn't know if Ward survived or is any semblance of okay. Because Oscar is a cute fun novelty and Ward is some guy she does not particularly care about.

Oh, my God, I want to express my thoughts on your hypotheses so bADLY. But that would be the wrong way to present information that should be shown in a story. But I still want everyone to see it, because carefully analyzing a story is one of the greatest forms of art that amazes me every time🧡

#marble sky ask #should I....maybe...#marble sky theories #okay why not #congrats Stars-in-a-jam-jar you made me to establish the new tag for you haha #really cool nickname btw I love it

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queer-n-here · 1 month

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imagine fucking tanizaki/chuuya in your sweater that was too big for him.. aww, poor baby is trying so hard to cover his face using the sleeves dangling off his arms while you ram into his hole mercilessly:3

Oh, ohohohohohohohohohohohohohoho! *smirks* Is it that time of the year? *Winks* Aha! Aha, aha! My, finally.

I found this art on Pinterest, credits to the rightful owner. I thought it was really close to what I was imagining while writing this piece.

Contents: Fucking Tanizaki in a sweater too big for him <3

Warnings: Smut, top male reader, rough sex, biting.

Tanizaki probably didn't know the affect he had on you. Nope, he definitely did not know.

Why else would be standing at your balcony so nonchalantly, wearing absolutely nothing but one of your sweaters?

It was even bigger on him than the one that he usually wore, and it ended just above his knees. The neckline of the sweater was so wide that it was almost falling off Tanizaki's shoulder, exposing the pale skin that was heavily marked with bruises from last night's round of sex. He had tried to roll up the sleeves to keep his hands free, but they kept slipping down, and so he let them be.

God, it was too much.

You had only returned from a mission, and the moment you entered yours and Tanizaki's shared room, the sight that greeted you was this. You had planned to watch a movie and cuddle, but turns out tonight was not going to be so wholesome after all.

You walked up to him, using your ability to mask your footsteps. Once you were close enough, you wrapped your arms around his thin waist, startling him.

Tanizaki whipped around, eyes wide, only relaxing when he saw that it was you and no one else. "Phew, you scared me..."

"Mn," You lowered your head to press a soft kiss in the crook of his neck, right where you'd left hickeys about 20 hours ago.

Tanizaki smiled, shifting his arms to hold your face in his sweater-covered hands. He raised himself onto his tip-toes, and placed a small peck on your lips.

"I see you've stolen my sweater, hmm?" You said, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear.

He flushed slightly. "And so what? It's not like you left me anything to wear."

You chuckled, leaning over to press a kiss to his forehead before pulling back to look at him.

"But I must say," Your eyes raked over his body, from his bare legs to his exposed collarbone. "You look good."

Tanizaki's face reddened further, and he tried to pull the hem of the sweater down to cover his knees. You leaned forwards, sliding your hands underneath the fabric to let your fingertips ghost over his skin. He froze in place, hands rising to clutch your shoulders.

"Should we head to bed?" You asked him, smirking.

He nodded, and let you lead him back into the room, shutting the balcony door behind you two.

"Go and lie on the bed, hmm?" You whispered to him, and he obliged.

You opened the bedside drawer, and pulled out a bottle of lube before following Tanizaki to the bed. You looked over to him, and he looked up at you as you gently caressed his cheek.

"I never really expected you to look so gorgeous in my clothes..." You lowered your hand to his thigh instead, rubbing and massaging the skin there. "Had I known, I would've made you wear some earlier."

He looked at you, his hands placed against your chest as your hands kneaded his thigh. A soft hum left his lips.

"You like it that much?" Tanizaki asked, looking up at you shyly.

"Mn," You nodded, and leaned down to kiss him.

As his lips parted to yours, you slid your hand into his sweater, caressing his hip and waist gently. You kissed him passionately, nibbling and biting at his lips in the way you knew made him breathless. He wrapped his arms around your neck, letting you do as you liked. Slowly, you hooked your finger against the waistband of the boxers that he was wearing beneath the sweater.

Pulling away, you looked at him.

He was panting, face flushed completely and his hair was messy, expression slightly dazed. His lips were swollen and red.

"Hmm," You buried your head into the crook of his neck, kissing and biting at the exposed flesh. Tanizaki moaned, biting his lips to muffle the sound.

You pulled his boxers off, kneeling on the bed in front of him as you threw it away, and this time when you leaned down to kiss him you were rough. You spread his legs, pulling the hem of the sweater over Tanizaki's waist to reveal his semi-hard cock and already leaking hole.

Pulling away, you unbuckled and unzipped your pants, pulling them down and throwing them away to free your cock from its restraints as you looked down at the flushed mess of a man beneath you.

"Fuck, baby," You took up the bottle of lube and coated some over your dick.

Tanizaki was more than prepped, you'd done that only yesterday. Aligning your tip with his hole, you slid in, making him gasp and arch his back as his fingers scrambled to find purchase.

You were slow and gentle, something that Tanizaki knew wouldn't last long. You were always soft on him, outside of bed.

Sure enough, once you had entered completely, the movement of your hips was slow, but not gentle anymore. You sped up, gaining a rhythm as Tanizaki moaned underneath you, clutching at the sheets beneath his head for dear life. His cock was now fully hard, and it slapped against his stomach when you pushed into him.

"Nghh, ba- Hah! [Name]!" He said.

Your hips snapped into his, and his body moved in sync with yours. You began pounding into him at a ruthless pace, your eyes glued to his face. Both your thrusts and your gaze were like that of a ferocious animal proudly devouring its prey.

Tanizaki panted and huffed beneath you, his red face a stark contrast with the white sheets beneath him. His back was arched, eyes blurring up at the sensation of your tip against his gummy walls.

"Mmph, [Name]! S-slow down a- Ahh!" He bit his lips again. "Slow down a little bit!"

But you were far from listening.

You sped up instead, watching greedily as your thrusts made Tanizaki scramble to ground himself. Just the sight of his flushed face looking up at you and struggling to breath as your cock rearranged his insides was good enough to drive you feral.

His hole was fluttering around you now, making sparks of pleasure shoot up from the length of your cock. You wrapped his legs around your waist, and placed your hands on either side of his head. As you continued your onslaught on his poor hole, a particular thrust made Tanizaki's eyes widen. His back arched completely off the bed, and a sound as lewd as the devil himself left his pretty swollen lips.

Shifting, you hit that spot up again, smirking devilishly as the feeling of your tip bullying his sweet spot made Tanizaki turn and try to hide his face away from your predatory gaze. It wasn't working well, not when he could barely keep himself to the bed.

He raised his hands instead, using the sleeves of your own sweater to hide his blushing face from you, and you frowned in annoyance. Still, your hips showed no signs of slowing. Your thrusts grew more and more forceful, till Tanizaki had to bite down on the fabric to not scream. Tears had spilled down either side of his face, and his thighs were trembling around your waist.

You reached forwards, dissatisfied, and roughly yanked his hands away from his face. You pinned his wrists down on either side of his head, hips never stopping. Now Tanizaki could only cry out and arch his back, his brain muddling.

Your cock against his sweet spot with each thrust was making him lose sense of reality. His pupils were blown out, and his mouth was open as more cries spilled out of it. You were pinning him down so hard that his wrists were beginning to bruise, and yet neither your grip on him nor your hips softened.

You fucked Tanizaki hard and fast and just the way you knew was perfect to render his brains useless. His face was covered in tears, and sweat-soaked hair was sticking to his forehead.

"Gah! Hnng, [Name]!" He tried to speak through his pants. "C-close!"

One word, and you fully turned into a beast. Your hips pounded into Tanizaki at an inhumane speed, the bed starting to creak in protest under you. You fucked him, grunting at the feeling of him tightening miserably around you, a symptom of his upcoming orgasm.

He came, a crying ripping itself free from his throat as ropes of cum shot out of his untouched dick, his hole squeezing around you so tight it was starting to get difficult to pull out and push back in. His pretty fucked-out expression was more than enough to get you to come in him, painting his walls white with your seed as your hips finally slowed to a stop.

You let go of his wrists, pulling out of him to collapse on the bed beside him.

As you caught your breath, you turned your head to look at Tanizaki. He was still in a daze, his chest heaving with each breath. You leaned forwards and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"I love you, baby."

#dom male reader #top male reader #dom reader #bungou stray dogs #sub bsd #sub bsd x you #bsd x you #sub bungou stray dog x you #sub bungou stray dogs #sub character #sub character x you #sub tanizaki x you #sub tanizaki #i just wanna *aggressive loving noises*

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