#I love just keeping my sketches slightly messy

[nounaarts]

Some posing practices I did in quick sketches

Actually very helpful

#practice actually helps??? #ikr who knew :D #I love just keeping my sketches slightly messy #it’s yummy to look at #half of them I did at like 2:30 in the morning #my sleep schedule is going great #sonic the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog #silver the hedgehog #sonic fanart #practice #posing #sketches #doodles #nounaarts

[nolita-fairytale]

don't want to walk alone | carmen 'carmy' berzatto x fem!reader | chapter five: the honeymoon pt. 2

summary: you and carmy enjoy the last few days of your mini-moon.

warnings: light smut, husband!carmy who comes with a warning label of his own, swearing, lots of tooth rotting fluff, marriage, no use of y/n, second person pov, she/her pronouns

wc: 3.2k

listen to: the official don't want to walk alone playlist (mentioned song - lizzy mcalpine's 'dancing queen' cover)

a/n: hi cuties. here is part two of the honeymoon in chicago. i will be writing an epilogue to finish out this series, then my focus will be back on the world of 'burn your life down.' please enjoy all of this fluffy, lovey dovey content because these two deserve.

part four | masterlist | epilogue

This feels right, you think to yourself, stretching out in the abnormally large bath tub that overlooks the Chicago River. This being the bath, your honeymoon, the non-stop sex between you and your insatiable husband. 

You’re up to your shoulders in bubbles, the temperature of the water just the right amount of hot, and you’ve got to admit that you need a recovery bath from the last night or so. 

“You gonna join me in here or what?” you ask Carmy, a flirtatious smile on your face as you steal a glance his way. 

He sits facing you, a few inches away on the floor of the bathroom, the sketchbook that you got him as a wedding gift laying in his lap as he continues to make furious strokes with one of the wildly-expensive-yet-worth-it pens that you purchased in addition to the sketchbook. 

“Nah,” Carmy exhales, the corners of his lips curving up into a smile as he looks at you like you might disappear. “I just wanna look at you a little longer.”

“I know it’s kind of our thing now. But maybe tomorrow night?” he offers up, half apologetically. You shake your head, as if to let him know it’s no problem, and Carmy returns his attention over to what he’s sketching. 

“Watcha workin’ on over there?” you ask, curiously, in reference to the broad strokes of pen on paper that you can hear. 

“It’s a surprise,” he answers almost too quickly, his focus unbroken as he keeps his head down, buried in whatever it is he’s drawing. 

You inhale deeply, letting out your breath on an even deeper exhale and it feels as if you’re melting into the warm bubbles that surround you. 

“I’m just glad you’re drawing again. You always seem to light up when you do it,” you sigh, settling into the comfort of your bath, even though you now have to accept that Carmy won’t be joining you tonight. 

You close your eyes, listening to the sound of your bubble bath playlist that plays over the speakers of your phone – the easily recognizable voice of Leon Bridges filling your ears as your shoulders relax. 

“Why don’t you draw something? For our next tattoo,” you suggest, your eyes beginning to close. 

“God, I love you so much,” is Carmy’s reply, without missing a beat. 

Opening one eye, you sit up slightly to get a good look at Carmy, shooting a quizzical look his way. 

“Well, yeah. But are you referencing anything in particular this time?” you giggle, peering over the edge of the tub in hopes of getting a look at what he’s sketching. Carmy tuts, clutching the sketchbook close to his chest so that he’s sure you can’t see. 

The two of you exchange a look, then a laugh, before you resign yourself, sinking back into the tub. Carmy can’t take his eyes off of you, watching you close yours. He looks down at his sketchbook, the image of you in the bathtub, your hair tied up in a messy bun on top of your head beginning to take shape on the page. With deep blue eyes full of love, he finally answers your previous question with:

“You encourage me to dream, baby.” 

A beat. 

“It’s one of the many reasons I love you.”

You inhale again, peeking one eye open just for a moment as you grin.

“I love you too, Bear. So, so much.” 

You take another breath, and a beat, before reiterating, “And I meant what I said. You should draw something for our next tattoo.”

“You really want my scribbles on your body forever?” he asks, skeptically, completely discrediting the talent that you know he knows he has. 

“I married you, didn’t I?” you shoot back with a shrug. 

He snorts out a laugh, shaking his head incredulously. 

“Don’t know if that’s the same.”

“Seriously, Bear. I know we talked about maybe adding some ink to mark this chapter of our relationship… but I really want you to draw it. You don’t have to make up your mind now but, just think about it, okay?” you continue, this time opening both of your eyes to look at him – just so he knows that you mean it. 

“Sure,” he nods hesitantly. “Uh… yeah. I’ll think about it.”

You hum along to your playlist as the song changes, and Carmy returns his attention to his sketchbook, stealing glances your way as he continues to work on his drawing of you. You swear you’ve slipped into the kind of relaxed state that yogis traveling to an ashram for the first time can only dream of, as both you and Carmy settle into a comfortable and quiet rhythm. 

Carmy hasn’t felt this inspired in a long time – noting that he hasn’t felt this relaxed in a long time either – and he’s more than willing to admit that it’s all the love (and all the sex, because it’s certainly not hurting) that’s sparked this creative kick. He was nervous before, before checking into the hotel earlier today, that maybe he wouldn’t be able to relax – the idea of going to the spa with you tomorrow is still absolutely terrifying – but it’s moments like these that remind him that he may not be so bad at this whole relaxing thing after all. 

It could be minutes, hours, days when you decide to get out of the tub – having lost track of time entirely since you checked in at the Langham hotel. Without saying anything, you pull the plug on the bathtub, allowing it to drain as you stand up, grabbing for the fluffy, plush white hotel towel. 

And you know that you could put on a robe, just like Carmy, but you have a better idea. 

You’ve been saving the little white slip dress that Natalie bought you for just the right moment, and you think this might be it. You can feel Carmy’s eyes on you as you disappear from the bathroom, leaving him where he sits on the floor, and back into the bedroom in search of where you hung the slip dress earlier this evening. 

You wonder how long it will take – if he’ll follow you back into the bedroom – but he doesn’t, so you take your time drying off. The white slip dress slides off of its hanger easily. You pull it over your head, allowing it to settle gently over your frame, noticing just how softly it drapes over your figure. 

Nat really nailed it with this one, you think to yourself, the pads of your feet hitting the ground as you head back into the bathroom to hang up your robe. 

Carmy’s gotten up off the floor, having carefully set his sketchbook down on the long counter, confident in the way he stands, waiting for you. He watches you like a hawk as you begin hanging your robe on the back of the door, a smirk beginning to form on his face. 

“What?” you ask, because you know exactly what he’s thinking without even having to look at him. 

“Nothin,” he answers, cheekily.

As you turn around, Carmy’s taking a step towards you. You busy yourself with taking your hair back down, watching your reflection in the mirror as Carmy approaches, coming up behind you. You can feel his hands slide along your hips, pulling you towards him as he begins to leave soft kisses on the tops of your shoulders. 

“Jus’ wanted to let you know how beautiful you are,” he mumbles in between kisses, pressing his hips against your ass. “That’s all.” 

“That’s all? You’re insatiable, Carm. You know that?” you ask him with a giggle, watching him in the mirror this time. 

“Oh come on,” he counters you. “You knew exactly what you were doing.” You moan as soon as you feel one of his hands bunching up the material of your dress, his lips curving into a smile against your skin as he hears you. “Putting this on for me.” 

“Baby,” you sigh happily, beginning to understand just how fun a honeymoon is supposed to be. 

“This feels familiar, doesn’t it?” he begins to tease you, moving your hair to one side of your neck.

“Remember when we snuck into a dressing room…” he continues you, his piercing blue eyes bearing into your soul through the mirror image – just like that night. “... during the James Beard Awards…” 

“How could I forget?” you gasp, his teeth nipping at the soft skin of your neck. “It was Syd’s first win and neither of us could wait till we got home.”

You remember it well, especially now, as Carmy begins to grind his hips into your ass, his eyes pleading with you in the reflection, begging you to let him fuck you. 

“Friday night and the lights are low…”

You smile, as soon as you recognize the lyrics to one of your favorite songs. Only this time, it’s nothing like the version you and your best friends sang at karaoke night, this version done as an intimate, acoustic singer-songwriter cover. Carmy’s hands are patient, slowly exploring your body as you turn around to face him, surprising him as you wrap your arms around his neck. 

He sends you a questioning look and you smile back as you lean in, placing your mouth over his in a messy kiss. 

“I love this song,” you whisper against his lips, pulling him in for another kiss as you press your body closer to his. “Dance with me, Carm.”

“Yeah?” he asks, with a single, amused raised eyebrow. 

“Yeah,” you answer with a smirk. “I’ll make it worth your while.” 

Instead of answering (or protesting, considering he had his sights set on fucking you up against the bathroom counter), he just embraces you, holding you close to him as the two of you sway back and forth to the song, exchanging heated kisses. It’s here, in the midst of a push and pull of desire, dressed in a fluffy white bathrobe and the slip dress his sister bought you, that you and Carmy have your first dance as man and wife. 

It’s exchanged kisses, teasing remarks, and eager hands till the very end of the song, both of your feet coming to a halt, too consumed with the passionate makeout that Carmy’s engaged you in this time. Your hands travel to where his robe is tied closed, beginning to open it as your breathing picks up. 

“Think we can count that as a first dance?” Carmy asks, in between kisses, his lips moving at a feverish, more desperate pace this time. 

“Definitely,” you reply, the softness in his eyes matched so well with the softness of the music. It’s then that you kiss him again, your mouth beginning to trial south every time you return to him. 

“Baby,” he moans, as he watches you kiss lower and lower, anticipating what comes next. 

“Said I’d make it worth your while. And right now, I want to go down on my husband,” you rasp, your voice low and sultry as you drop to your knees. 

Carmy moans as soon as he feels your mouth on him, your tongue coming out just to taste the tip of him. His right hand tangles in your hair, beginning to grasp at the back of your head as he lets out a:

“Fuck.”

———————————

Your vintage lace slip dress, plucked from the ground where it was carelessly thrown the night before, and Carmy’s denim jacket draped over your shoulders. 

That’s what he wakes up to, Carmy, your husband, as you climb back onto the bed, having left your brown paper bag filled with all kinds of goodies on the nightstand next to him. 

It may seem silly, bringing his denim jacket considering you barely planned on leaving the room, but he brought it for moments like this, when he knew you’d inevitably want to wear something of his while heading down to explore the rest of the hotel. 

“Think you’ll even need that?” you’d asked as you watched him pack his bag for this weekend. 

“Gotta be prepared, babe. You’ve been stealing my clothes since day one,” he had pointed out, making it clear that he was only packing options at this point. You’d giggled, making a comment about how considerate your then-husband-to-be was and a declaration that you were nothing if not consistent. 

“Good morning, my love,” you say as you climb onto the bed, settling at the foot. 

Carmy just smiles dreamily, his curls a wild, beautiful mess, as he sits up, reaching for your hands so that he can pull you over him. You smile, leaving a quick good morning kiss on his lips as you mutter something about morning breath. 

“Fuck off. You love me,” he teases in response, laying back down. 

“Fuck off. I do,” you parrot him, nodding happily, as you settle over him, straddling his hips. 

With your hands still in his, Carmy brings your conjoined hands up to his lips, leaving a kiss to each knuckle, his eyes fixed to yours, his focus unbroken. He smirks, seeing you in his denim jacket, just like he predicted. It looks damn good on you and there’s something so primal about the way he feels when you wear his clothes – the fact that you’d showcase to the world that you’re his stirs something inside of him that feels intoxicating.

“I went downstairs to the hotel cafe. Got a few pastries and coffee for us,” you say, as you run your hands up and down his chest. 

“Thanks, baby. But I’m not hungry yet,” Carmy replies, something in his voice that tells you he’s got something else in mind. You quirk an eyebrow in his direction, letting out a loud laugh as he flips you over, rolling you onto your back. 

“Think we should work up an appetite first.” 

“Again?” you giggle, heat pooling between your legs as you think of how he fucked you up against the bathroom counter last night – after you went down on him. 

Instead of answering, he captures your mouth with his, groaning into the kiss as he lays his body over yours. You could care less about the morning breath as Carmy winds you up with the way he kisses you, the way he touches you, and you’re sighing out in pleasure as his hand slips between your legs. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, baby,” he spits through gritted teeth, as soon as he realizes that you’re not wearing any underwear. 

“You go down to the cafe like this?”

You smirk, letting out a devious chuckle at his discovery. 

Before you can properly answer, Carmy’s fingers are dancing over your wet heat, earning well deserved gasps from you as you buck your hips into his hand, a sudden possessiveness taking over. 

“Fuck, Carm,” you groan, knowing exactly how to wind him up. “Yeah. Might have to punish me for it.”

“Think so, sweet girl,” Carmy mutters, before his mouth is on yours again. 

———————————

It’s your last night at the Langham hotel and you and Carmy have barely left your room – save for the trip to the pool downstairs. You find yourself curled up with your husband, your head buried in the book you're halfway through in a cozy silk PJ set as Carmy works on something else, a few pages deep into his new sketchbook. 

“How’s your book?” he asks, his focus still on the page before him. 

“Good,” you answer quietly, looking for a good place to pause. You look over at him, smiling as you notice the very cute face he makes when he’s concentrating. 

“Watcha workin’ on?” 

A light blush runs across Carmy’s cheeks as he prepares to show you. 

“Uh… just been sketchin’ up some ideas… you know. Ever since you asked about, you know… the tattoo,” Carmy answers, suddenly feeling shy about showing you his work. 

“Yeah?” you ask, only to be met with a nod as Carmy hands you the sketchbook. 

You take it, your eyes eagerly scanning the page, considering it’s the first time since you gave him the gift that he’s let you see anything he’s been working on. You smile, a look of awe in your eyes as you take in all of the little food-related tattoos that he’s drawn up. 

“I like this one,” you say, pointing to the nest of spaghetti he’s drawn, clearly meant to be a single portion of carbonara. “I mean, I like all of them… but I like this one.” 

“Yeah?” he asks, only a little surprised that you like any of them really. 

“Yeah,” you nod in response. You look down at his work, then back up to Carmy before gesturing towards the page. “May I?”

“Uh… sure,” he answers anxiously, the sound of the page turning only magnifying his nerves. 

He’s so incredibly talented that it hurts, and it’s not till you get back to the very first page, the one where he's drawn you in the bathtub that your heart stops. 

“Carmy,” you gasp, looking down at the sketch. 

“You hate it,” he’s quick to say, offering up a way out, almost too eager to beat you to the punch if that is how you feel. 

“Baby, of course I don’t hate it. I-,” you shake your head, marveling at the drawings below as you trace your fingers over the broader strokes of the pen. “It’s just… no one’s ever drawn me before so. I’m kind of… in awe right now.”

Carmy inhales, then lets out the breath on a deep exhale, because he’s drawn you before – considering he’s barely made time for his art in the last five years anyways – and that they just aren’t things he’s shown you yet. 

“What do you think?” is all he asks, his eyes searching your face for a reaction. 

“I think,” you say, returning his gaze with yours. You can tell that he’s nervous, that this feels extremely vulnerable, and you know exactly how to pivot. “... that you’re incredibly talented… and it’s really, really not fair.” 

He laughs. 

“I wouldn’t go that far,” he replies, brushing off the compliment. 

“No, I mean it, Bear,” you harp, making sure he hears you. 

“Okay,” he nods, and you know it’s the best you’re going to get when it comes to him accepting your compliment on the spot. 

You take a beat, before handing him his sketchbook back, returning your attention to your book as the two of you settle into a quiet rhythm of spending time with each other. This is exactly how you pictured this weekend going – spending time together, doing absolutely nothing, and fucking all day long. You’re not quite ready to go back to real life yet, but you also miss Aioli, and you know you and Carmy have another shot at this when you go on your real honeymoon in a few months. 

“Maybe I should bring this with me… you know… on our honeymoon part two,” Carmy says, gesturing towards his sketchbook. It warms your heart to see him so excited, so inspired and relaxed. 

“Definitely,” you reply with a smile. “Let’s do it all over again in a few months. When we go to Japan.”

“You wanna take a bath?” you ask, an implied, ‘you said you would join me’ in your voice as you ask the question. 

Carmy licks his lips, a small smile threatening the corners of his mouth as he answers, 

“Deal.”

#carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto #carmy x oc #the bear hulu #the bear fx #jeremy allen white #carmen 'carmy' berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #smut sunday #still into you #carmy smut #husband!carmy #fuck off you love me #fuck off i do

[squidpedia]

Hey! How do you do lineart & Sketches???

You’re one of my biggest inspirations for drawing and I really love your art style!

UM??? THANK YOU?? I 🥺🥺🥺

I’ll try to word this as best as I can but I am honestly terrible at text descriptions/explanations sometimes, so I’m sorry if anythings unclear or odd. My process also varies sometimes depending on the artwork

Sorry for somewhat long answer ahead!

Usually for any artwork that I know will take a longer amount of time, I start with a really quick 1 minute sketch to get the proof of concept down. It doesn’t have to look good and the proportions may be very off and really messy but thats ok, my main goal is just to get the whole idea down and interpret it again later. I write notes next to the sketches sometimes if I have a specific thing I want to include later like for the coloring or lighting.

After that, I usually make a revised sketch on top of that and keep tweaking or redoing the sketch until I get something I like. This is also where I reccomend you start checking proportions and flipping the canvas. The first and third image had to be revised before I was able to make lineart I was happier with. Some other times I just jump straight into the lineart if I think the sketch already looks ok (but this is kinda risky as I usually end up having to resize a lot of the lineart later when doing this, which can end up dropping the quality of the selected area and making it slightly blurred compared to everything else. Sometimes I just end up redoing the lineart entirely for the selected area when this happens).

When coloring the lineart I try to mostly color lines that exist inside the silhouette of the person, but I’m also kinda loose with this rule and also will color anything on the edges if I think it looks better in a certain instance.

I’ve been trying to keep my lineart much thinner and enjoy using Procreate’s ballpoint pen for lineart. For sketches I usually use whatever feels most satisfying or convenient or just try a new brush for sketching to spice up my process every now and then.

In worst case-scenarios, if I’m really struggling to get something I like when sketching, then I just keep redoing the sketch and trying to figure out what I don’t like about it. The undertale the musical gif had something around 6 redo’s before I finally liked it enough to give it lineart

Sometimes I also try making quick messy color mock-ups of my sketches to plan out colors or specific effects for later to test what colors I like and what I think would look good for later. I also might write notes if there’s any extra details I think of that I want to include later

Thats everything I can think of, I hope this helps and sorry again for this being a pretty long answer, its the best way I could think to explain my process, but I hope its a bit helpful at least!

#pedia says stuff #pedias art #doodles #asks

[stoned-eren]

Can’t help but think about reader that isn’t interested in Obsessed Eren. She just… doesn’t like him like that, she doesn’t really like him that much as a person. She’s super nice but she doesn’t fuck with him. She also isn’t seeing anyone else and doesn’t plan on it because she’s ✨A holy starseed who is saving herself for her twin flame✨ and refuses to date some loser in college that won’t last a year. And she thinks of Eren in the same way, not only is he not her type physically, emotionally, or mentally. But he just seems lame to her. She’s to legit.

a/n: HELLO, hello! i am so sorry i've been so late with this, but i haven't forgotten you! in fact, i’ve been practicing my writing skills in anticipation for this ask hehe. :p i've been thinking about this since you've sent it, so much appreciated <3 you know i love me some obsessive eren. i hope u enjoy!

content: MDNI, obsessive themes, yandere behavior? (not really), gn! reader, college setting!, alcohol, angst, a teeny tiny bit of fluff, eren is a big softie in this one, mean reader? (kinda/not really) word count: 4.8k (IM SORRY)

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

maybe it was just his hair.

or maybe, it was his lazy, glazed appearance.

hell, maybe it was just everything about him.

his personality certainly wasn't obnoxious or anything. he was quiet, seemed to keep to himself, and didn’t really pester you all too much.

but there was something about him that you slightly disliked. you weren’t even sure what it was. maybe it was just the fact that you just couldn’t connect with him- not mentally, not emotionally, not spiritually. you didn’t see much in him.

your eyes flittered over to eren jeager, the man you were just criticizing in your head. he was sitting in his usual spot in the lecture hall, which happened to be right next to your usual spot. leaning over his side of the desk, strands of his messy brown hair slumped down, the rest tied up in a slackly bun. he was wearing a large, baggy hoodie, the same hoodie he always wore, even if it was scorching hot outside. in your eyes, he was just… average. nothing really stood out to you about him; it was if he was like any other guy in your class.

from the corner of his eye, eren noticed your eyes flicker onto his face, and he felt his skin crawl. he hitched his breath, just barely. were you staring at him? eren glanced up from his lecture notes, seemingly not even taking any notes to begin with; a messily drawn sketch of a large dinosaur scribbled on his paper. he tried to hide the drawing as he turned his head to look at you, wondering if you needed something from him.

really though, eren would use any excuse he could just to interact with you.

to put it frankly, eren was desperate for you. at first, eren treated you like he would any other classmate; he ignored you, seemingly too overwhelmed with his life to focus on anybody else. but as the months slipped by, the two of you growing accustomed to sitting next to each other in multiple classes, several days a week, he had gotten to know bits of you. and god, he just adored you.

you were so sweet to him.

eren didn’t know it, but you were sweet to everyone. you were just being polite, after all. even if you disliked eren, just a little bit, you had no reason to be rude to him. so, you smiled at him, giggled with him, and treated him like you would any other acquaintance.

 but for eren- fuck, it was so frustrating.

eren was bordering on obsession. he knew that spending almost every day in your presence, you so very close to him, definitely didn’t help ease that compulsion. every time you sat next to him, he was be able to smell hints of you, see the glossiness of your lips, the softness in your eyes.

eren just didn’t know how you felt, though. in his mind, he wanted to convince himself that you liked him back, just too shy to admit it. and eren didn’t know how to admit it either. so, here you two were, in some sort of back-and-forth limbo that left eren pulling out his hair. he had to comfort himself every night while he laid in bed, reassuring himself that you must have some affection, any affection for him. after all, you were just so sweet to him.

eren tried to stop himself. he really did. as if like clockwork, he told himself that he’d be good- he’d be over you. every day, he told himself that. but whenever you’d walk into class, dropping your bag on the floor, and giving him a tired, shy smile- he couldn’t help but imagine waking up to that face; to see you in your unmatched, natural beauty. whenever he thought he could break away from your grasp, you pulled him back in, not even trying.

eren must have imagined you staring at him. when he turned his head to look at you, you were seemingly focused on your lecture notes, diligently scribbling down whatever the professor was saying.

you could feel eren staring at you as you took your notes. it irked you, just a little bit. why did he feel the need to stare at you all the time? you didn’t even understand why he came to class, asking you for homework or lecture notes almost daily. instead of focusing on his studies, he opted to spending his time drawing or going on his phone when he was in class. you glanced at the dinosaur drawing in his notebook. you felt your skin pricking up as his gaze never ceased, watching you from the corner of his eye. just barely.

the professor stopped his lecturing mid-sentence, casually checking his phone. he frowned upon the sight of what you assumed was a notification.

“sorry class,” he says, swiping his phone, walking over to his desk and gathering his supplies. “something just came up, lecture’s over.”

some students immediately get up upon hearing that class is cut short, quickly beelining it to the exit. you’re one of those students, hastily gathering your supplies and stuffing them into your bag, not even looking back at eren as you leave. today had been a particularly bad day for you; too many things going wrong all at once. you didn’t have much energy to deal with eren’s antics.

you confused him so much. you were so sweet and kind. but then there were times where you would treat him like this, not even saying goodbye to him, seemingly just wanting to get away from him. eren just didn’t understand, he couldn’t understand.

he felt a small twinge in his heart as he watched you walk out the door and into the corridor.

- - -

since lecture was cut short, you decided to spend your free time with one of your best friends, sasha. she was laying on a bean bag in your room, flipped upside down as she snacked on potato chips. you had to remind her not to lay like that, since she’s choked several times in the past laying in that exact position, on that exact bean bag.

while sasha’s munching on her chips, her eyes grow bright as she seems to come to a realization.

“oh! there’s a party tonight!” sasha swallowed, crumbs of fried potato falling down her lips as she flipped around, standing up quickly. “you gotta come, you just have to. it’s gonna be hugeeeee.”

you groan, just slightly. parties weren’t really your thing, especially huge ones. you always felt out of place. sasha knew that very well.

“cmon,” sasha whines. “you’re never out of class this early- it could be fun; you could meet somebody.” she says, her voice teasingly playful, raising her eyebrows at you.

“yeah, no, i’m not really into that, the ‘meeting’ someone thing,” you say, giving air quotes around the word ‘meeting’. you knew what sasha meant by that. you thought hard before you spoke. “but i’ll go. for you, sasha.” you clarify, poking your friend on her forehead. she snorts, delighted by your response.

before you know it, you’re at the party, coming up to the house of some stranger; a large, fancy mansion. it’s littered with people, some drunk, some sober, as crowds enter and exit the house. you try to adjust your outfit for some decency, sasha making you wear something you normally wouldn’t say yes to. you’re a little glad you agreed to wear this outfit though, as you soon realize that everyone around you is littered in slightly nicer clothes than you. sasha is grabbing you by your wrist, almost dragging you into the mansion.

you’re already uncomfortable. it’s absolutely packed in here. you could feel the heat from all the bodies in the room, some more sweaty than others as they danced to the blaring music that was playing.

you and sasha walked around for a bit, trying to find anyone you guys recognized. sasha found a group of her friends, people you didn’t really know, and began to socialize with them. you stood a little way away from sasha’s friend group, awkwardly listening to them share inside jokes and tell stories about one another.

after talking with her friends for quite some time, sasha made her way back to you, a couple of her friends still with her. while leaning against a wall, you were scrolling on your phone, nothing to do as you wished you were home right now. you looked up at sasha, seemingly relieved that she was back. but before you could say anything to her, she was already turned around, heading off in the other direction while her friends seemed to drag her away.

“sasha-!“ you have to yell to be heard over the noise.

“let me get us some drinks!” sasha called out to you, curtly turning her head around to look at you. her brunette hair was the only thing you saw as she disappeared into the crowd of people. great. she left, again.

you instinctively held onto yourself, seemingly recognizing no one at this party. as you waited for sasha, it felt like a few minutes passed by. then ten, then twenty. at this point your back was against a wall, just waiting for your friend to come back. eventually, you decided to just text her.

“dude, where are you? “ 8:15 PM

“SASHAAAAA” 8:18 PM

“omg” 8:26 PM

“how could you do this to me :’(“ 8:32 PM

you sighed, stuffing your phone back into your bag and waiting for your friend to respond. you eventually decided to seek out the booze yourself, going into the kitchen and pouring yourself a cup of fruity looking punch. after all, if you were going to be at a party, you might as well enjoy it, even if you were alone.

you made your way into the backyard, a huge, luscious space that stretched out to every corner of your peripheral. the backyard was much emptier than the inside of the mansion, small groups of people casually chatting instead of the crowds of people chaotically screaming and bumping into you inside. you sipped on your drink as you sat in one of the fancy, structured chairs in the corner of the backyard, hearing the muffled music play from inside the house. it reverberated the mansion. you let the cool night air hit your skin, just trying to feel any semblance of peace right now, being undeniably very stressed.

- - -

eren wasn’t one for parties. but this night was one of the biggest parties of the year, making it hard to pass up. he figured he could use the escape, doing anything he could to not think of you. eren was in the kitchen of the mansion, taking shots with his friends. he needed to forget you. what better way than to drink his worries away, he figured. just this once.

he took a shot, and another shot, and another shot with his friends, feeling his inhibitions slip away. as his inebriation started to settle in, his mind seemingly ended up wandering back to thoughts of you, a painstakingly common occurrence for him. he felt so lonely in this crowd of people. none of them were like you, none of them could ever be like you. you were so sweet, so gentle and kind to him. he felt his heart surge upon thinking of you; only you.

it was only you.

eren didn’t seem to notice whenever you would return from outside, clamoring your way back into the house for whatever reason. as if the timing was off, his back would be turned to you, busy talking with his friends every time you made your way back into the mansion, pouring yourself cup after cup of the punch. each time you got up to get more punch, you could feel yourself wobble more, struggle more.

the night began to get darker as you sat outside, finally coming to the conclusion that you weren’t getting a response from sasha. you had texted her a few more times, but whenever she got drunk, she seemed to forget that her phone existed. figuring she was with her group of friends, you stood up from the seat you had been cushioned in, ready to go home and prepare yourself for another weekend of studying. you stumbled slightly as you got up, not realizing that drinking four cups of that punch would get you this drunk.

everything was hard to see. you looked at your phone, the letters on your screen practically moving, making it hard to focus and type. you sent a quick text to sasha.

“in ggong jhome! :D” 9:36 PM

it was supposed to read, “i’m going home.” close enough, you figured.

you made your way back into the mansion, stumbling through crowds of people, using some random strangers as leverage so you wouldn’t fall. you finally got to the front door, which was cracked wide open, letting you slip out the mansion and into the night.

the walk wasn’t too far, so you figured you could make it on your own.

when you walked into the kitchen, drunkenly stumbling towards the exit, eren’s eyes glowed. you walked by eren, seemingly not even noticing him. it was too hard to pay attention to him though, there were crowds of people, and you were very, very drunk. but eren noticed you. he wondered how long you had been here, what you were even doing here to begin with. were you talking to anybody? flirting with them? the very idea made eren panic. if he knew that you’d be here, he would have spent more time looking for you. he couldn’t look away from you, his mind racing as he was enamored by your effortless charm.

eren noticed that you were wearing a rather cute outfit, one that accentuated the flawless features of your body. it was something he didn’t really see you in too often, if, at all. he also noticed the way you stumbled, losing your footing on seemingly nothing as you bumped into strangers, giggling apologizes at them. god, you looked drunk.

now on his 6th shot, eren couldn’t even think properly. he figured he could say hi to you- that wouldn’t be weird, right? even if it was just a three second conversation, it mattered to eren. every second, every moment with you counted. upon seeing you start to leave, eren made his way out the door, curtly saying goodbye to his friends, just trying to catch up with you. you were just a little faster than him though. as he finally made it to the front door of the mansion, he saw you disappear off into the night on foot, no friends around you.

wait- were you walking home by yourself? in your drunken state?

no- eren wouldn’t let you. who knows what could happen to you? eren wouldn’t take that risk, not even slightly. you needed him right now. briskly, he began to walk in the direction he saw you last. he was rather drunk himself, so he struggled to walk as he attempted to catch up with you, not even seeing where he was stepping. but his strides were long, his footsteps fast; so, he caught up to you in a short amount of time.

you were walking down an isolated street; you hadn’t seen a single car come by so far. the road was long, stretching out farther than you could see, but it led directly to your college. you now realized that the walk was going to be more time consuming than you expected. as you looked up into the sky, there were large, cheap street lights towering above you, lined up haphazardly along the sidewalk. you were trying your best to walk in a straight line, just in case a car did come by- you had to appear as sober as you could. but you couldn’t, you couldn’t walk normally at all.

your ears perked up at the sound of your name being called. your head spun around as you turned to find the source of the noise. the world was spinning, so you couldn’t really see who it was from afar. you should have been more alarmed, but in your drunken state, all you did was watch as the figure approached you, body tensed up. eventually, your eyes relaxed slightly when you realized who it was, eren lightly jogging up to you, trying to catch up to you. you didn’t recognize him without his hoodie and sweats on, wearing a nice flannel and jeans instead. as he walked up to you, the golden light from the street lamp highlighted his features.

“hey. i saw you at the party- you’re walking home by yourself this late at night?” eren said to you, his voice full of concern and dripping with intoxication. he breathed softly, as if he was out of breath. you paid him no mind.

“yes, i am. my house is like, right here, so…” you trailed off, slurring your words.

you were obviously lying. there was nothing around you and eren but roads and a sidewalk, no homes anywhere near the path you were taking. were you sure you were going the right way?

you fully expected eren to part ways with you now, not knowing what he could possibly need from you. you turned back around, and continued to march home, almost tripping over your own feet.

“wait-“ eren stammered, his pace picking up with yours. “are you sure that’s safe?”

you glanced at him silently, but kept walking.

he followed you, continuing. “it’s just- well, there’s a lot of petty crime around here, you should be careful. i-if you want, maybe i can-”

why was he doubting you? did he think you weren’t able to make it home? in your drunken state, you let out some of your annoyance with him, some of the bottled-up feelings you had for him spilling out.

“eren-“ you breath, cutting the boy off and stopping in your tracks. “i’m fine- you really think i can’t walk home?”

“it’s not that, i just- i don’t think you should be alone right now,“ he began, stammering as he spoke.

you huff, clearly exasperated. “and why’s that? i can take care of myself.”

eren’s eyes widened. he felt himself panic, just slightly, unable to understand why it was a bad thing for him to take care of you. “i… well i just…” he murmured, quieting his voice as he seemed to be unable to speak.

you were getting annoyed.

“you just what?” you finally snap, “how did you even know i was walking? were you following me?” you say in an accusatory tone.

eren feels his anxiety surge. what were you insinuating about him? did you really think he was a bad guy? but… would it be bad if he did follow you?

he goes quiet, knowing that anything he says won’t satisfy you. you keep going.

“it’s creepy,” you say, your eyes shooting daggers at him. eren feels his heart drop upon hearing you say those words. it echoes in his brain.

him, creepy?

“i… i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to bother you.” eren said, his eyes darting away from you. he wasn’t sure what he was doing wrong, but he was irritating you, he was scaring you. and he didn’t like it. the two of you stood on the sidewalk, the buzz of the street light filling the harsh silence in the air as it illuminated above you. eren’s expression saddened, like a hurt puppy, as he stared at the floor, not able to meet your gaze.

you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt in your heart, regretting snapping at the man. after all, was he really doing anything wrong? you quickly realized you were just letting out pent up frustrations at him. you knew eren, you knew him well. and you knew he wasn’t like that. you bit your lip, thinking of a way you could fix this.

“n-no, wait. eren, i’m sorry,” you finally say, your voice genuine and remorseful. eren looks up at you, his expression so saddened, so lonely, you couldn’t help but feel bad for him, pitying him. “that wasn’t right of me to say.”

“oh. it’s okay,” eren says. he gives you a weak smile, one mixed with hurt and anguish.

you look at him for a second, the dim yellow light from the street lamp mixing with eren’s eyes. he looked so tired, you noted. you could see the melancholy on his face as he looked into your eyes, searching for something. unsure of what he could want, you slowly turned around, continuing your walk down the road.

eren followed you, his steps a few feet away from yours. whenever you wondered if he left, you could hear his shoes clack against the sidewalk, indicating that he was still following you. you decided not to say anything, not wanting to hurt him for inconceivably no reason again.

eren was lost in thought. you had never gotten that mad at him before, let alone said anything so harsh to him before. what did he do? was it wrong to want to protect you? didn’t you want him to protect you?

he just wanted you to be alright. he would never forgive himself if he knew something happened to you, knowing he could have prevented it. he swallowed his thoughts, his intoxication still very apparent in his body.

he walked, you not once looking back to see if he was still there, still tripping on your own feet. without realizing it, his ideal world of you started to crumble. there were cracks in the foundation; seeds of uncertainty planted inside of eren’s head.

you were doing it again, treating him as if he was a pesky little bug that wouldn’t leave you alone. a wave of sorrow hit him, his life feeling aimless at the mere thought of you not interested in him, or even worse, hating him. what would he do at that point? what if that came true?

eren was getting so, so tired. he just wanted to tell you how much you meant to him, how much he needed you in his life. he felt incomplete without you, as if he was a puzzle missing a piece. there was an emptiness in his heart, one that he knew could be so lovingly and tenderly mended by you.

he needed to tell you. he needed to do it, he had to do it, before these feelings consumed his very essence.

neither one of you spoke to each other as you made the long journey home, both of you seemingly lost in thought. you stopped when you got the complex of your dormitories, deep into the late hours of the night. your feet were sore, walking for what seemed like miles. you turned to eren, not wanting him to go any further.

“see? told you i’d make it here no problem,” you voice slightly slurs as you tell eren, as if trying to prove something to him. you sobered up from your walk, just barely. you could walk in a somewhat straight line now, at least.

he gave you a small smile. he seemed so distracted. as you said goodnight to him, turning around to disappear into the night, eren wrapped his fingers around your arm, gently stopping you in your tracks.

“wait…” eren said, the sadness leaving his face; a soft expression replacing his pain. he focused his eyes on you, his blue-green irises shining bright. “i’ve been wanting to tell you something.”

curiously, you looked at him as he let go of your arm. you stared at him with beautiful eyes as eren hesitated, unsure of how he could phrase his next sentence.

he just went for it.

he breathed. “i like you. like, a lot.”

you just stared at him.

why didn’t you say anything?

he stammered his next sentence, unable to read any indication of feeling in your face as you blankly gazed at him. “i was wondering if you would want to go out sometime-“

“oh eren, i’m sorry. i can’t.” you flatly reply, making eren’s heart twinge.

he felt like his world was falling apart as you turned him down, casting him aside like he was just some inconvenience in your life. you could see just how utterly crushed he was, biting his lip harshly, as if punishing himself for even trying to ask you out. his eyes darkened, the brightness fading from them as he stood there, frozen in place, his heart pounding as you rejected him.

you felt yourself having to explain, trying to let him down softly. “i just- i’m saving myself for the right person. i don’t want a relationship that’s not going to last-“

“we could last,” he commented, as he looked at you with pure pain. “i know we could.” his voice was barely a whisper.

“e-eren, i…” you stammer, a little flustered.

eren says your name, looking into your eyes as if he’s pleading with you, so desperately wanting a chance with you.

“i’d give you everything. you’d be my everything…” eren said, trying to soothe himself with his words. “so please…”

“i’m sorry eren, i just… i just can’t.” you tell him.

“oh…” he trails off.

“…i’ll be waiting, for as long as it takes.” eren said. he paused before he spoke again. “forever, if i need to…”

you would never admit it, not even to yourself, but a tiny blush spread across your face from his words. he was undoubtedly, a little sweet. even though you disliked him, just a little.

eren sadly said goodbye to you, fully intending on skipping class on monday so he didn’t have to go through the shame and embarrassment of seeing you. eren stood there as you left. you walked deeper into the dormitory complexes, finally getting back home after a long day.

eren watched you as you walked away, the tip of your head disappearing down the hill into the complexes. he walked back out the complex, his heart pounding, trying to calm his thoughts.

he did it- he finally confessed- but you didn’t.

he sat on the closest planter he could find, balling his fists into his head, a migraine coming on. he covered his face as small tears formed in his eyes. he wondered what was wrong with him. was it his personality- his appearance? what were you looking for? he could be anything, if it meant you were there with him. eren’s thoughts stilled, his eyes wet with tears as he slid his hands down his face.

he’d wait forever, if he had to. he told you that, and he meant it. for there was no one eren would ever love besides you.

but maybe now was not the time.

nor would it ever be.

maybe he was just meant to love you. maybe you weren’t meant to love him.

you shut your bedroom, kneeling against the door, thinking deeply. your thoughts traveled to eren, your mind unable to not think about him. you realized just how nervous you were now, your palms sweaty and your legs shaking. as you replayed his confession in your brain, you noted how soft his eyes looked when he gazed upon you. his words just seemed so genuine, so truthful; his voice wavering as he silently begged you for just a moment, a chance with you.

you thought of eren as you laid in bed, seemingly sleeping for a few hours, arriving home far too late. you thought of eren as you studied through the weekend, your notes not even making sense to you as you were so distracted. you thought of eren as you walked into your lecture hall days later, a small skip of your heart as you noticed that eren wasn’t here today. you thought of eren as you went home, walking as you imagined him behind you, his footsteps just barely out of sync with yours; reminding you of the day he confessed. you thought of him as you cooked and cleaned. you thought of him the next day, and the day after that.

eren seemingly stopped showing up to class, the last time you saw him was over two weeks ago. you heard from your mutual friends that eren dropped out of his classes. you couldn’t help but think about him, your mind always going back to his confession. what if you had said yes?

you couldn’t help but wonder.

there was a small stab of guilt in your heart every time someone mentioned eren. you felt a little more aimless each day you went into lectures, knowing he wouldn’t be there. you started to sketch small drawings of dinosaurs in your notebook, a little reminder of him.

you didn’t like him, though.

…right?

#i hope you like it im sorry its so long #i cried writing it lol #ask #anon #eren #eren jeager #aot #attack on titan #snk #shingeki no kyojin #eren x yn #eren x you #eren x reader #fluff #aot fluff #attack on titan fluff #angst #light angst #attack on titan angst #obsessive!eren #obsessive eren #writing.exe

[paynomindtotheinsanity]

I love your art so much, you’re part of the reason I started drawing again. Your old art is cool, and your new art just has so much emotion and detail in it, it deserves so much praise. Do you have any advice on how you upskilled so well into the amazing art you do today? I really want to learn to be skilled like you are and improve to your level

Dude, thank you so much. I'm super flattered but also have major Impostor Syndrome right now lol.

The biggest thing that helped me was getting a drawing tablet and learning how to use digital art programs like Canvas or Procreate. I am a very messy artist - my traditional sketchbooks were always a nightmare because of how often I erase shit, so being able to use programs where I can simply undo or reposition a line was a game-changer.

I'm also incredibly indecisive and struggle with linework, but I found some great brushes that mimic the effects of ink pens and watercolor so I can achieve the messy, painted look. (This Sketchbook set and lineart set are the two I use the most)

Use as many references as you need! Gather a bunch of base poses to get the hang of proportions and anatomy (my go-to artist is Mellon_Soup. Screenshots from movies and shows work great too)

Try out posing tools like this one

A fun exercise that helps me is to paste a photo or drawing on one layer, and then on the layer above, sketch the main aspects in 30 seconds. Delete the first layer and then work solely off of the sketch (and yes it will absolutely look spooky and/or silly). If you need more time at first, start with 60 seconds and work your way down as you get the hang of it:

Take pictures of yourself in the poses you want to draw

Find artists with a style that resonates with you and study their work

The Multiply tool on Procreate is AMAZING for adding depth to artwork. I use this on almost everything. Add a slightly darker color on top of the whole set of layers, switch it to Multiply, and then go in with the eraser to mark the areas where the light hits

Keep practicing, no matter how shitty you think it looks! Just keep going!!

Uh I think that's it? I'll add more if I remember anything else.

I wish you the best of luck on your art journey! <3

#art tips #I'm not qualified but here you go lol #thank you so much

[cattnipt]

hey hey! love your art a lot and was wondering if you would ever post speedpaints or give any sort of insight into your rendering process? i’d be very curious to see how you make your pieces come together and how your style - being so consistent yet so varied and expressive when applied to any given drawing - uh, builds, i guess. thanks a bunch!! keep it up either way, your work is super inspiring. <3 :)

Hi!! First of all, thank you so much and what the hell I'll cry, CONSISTENT?? EXPRESSIVE??? WOAH.........

As for speedpaints hmm I've always thought to myself that recording speedpaints would be really interesting but in actuality I don't really know how to......do that ? My drawings take so many hours to render, would the footage of it all just clog my computer?? Where would I upload them?? Youtube???

But honestly I'm so honoured by this ask that I think I'd like to genuinely give it a try :o

But when it comes to insight regarding rendering.... bit of a harder thing to answer honestly. Especially since I get about 90% of all the colouring work done within the typically flat colour stage before rendering since I wing all my colours on the go. My initial colours are usually pretty messy and soft (as is my sketch), but in the rendering phase I make it a point to use a lot of harder edge or at least high opacity brushes to define shapes more and make them sharper.

I do all my rendering on one merged layer with my initial sketch/lineart and base colours usually with additional airbrush/colour tweak layers merged as well. I try to use a lot of colour variation within everything I'm rendering, and my initial colours usually utilise a lot of airbrushing to set the base for those colour variations. I of course do additional effects/backgrounds/sometimes specific parts like props on separate layers but all of my main rendering happens on one

This is a very poor explanation I'm sorry, I hope the progress pictures show at least something HAHA

here's also a random water painting tutorial I made for a friend that maybe explains my initial colouring stage slightly?

Don't know if this explains literally anything, but thank you so much for your ask :-D !! I'll look into speedpaints and update here if I ever figure those out.....

#asks #this turned out to be a lot longer than I was meaning #and it's me mostly just rambling nonsensically #I've never really shown progress pictures of my art online so this is a little scary #honestly while I say that colouring is 90% of my job done that's not entirely true because rendering takes by faaar the longest #it's basically just me redrawing the entire drawing again but neater and gods it takes way too many hours

[angelspathway]

( Not my gif)

Unbelievable: 42! Miles Morales x black fem! reader

Summary: the boy of my dreams

Trope: chubby loser girl and popular quiet boy trope. Maybe the tiniest bit of hood Miles.

Warnings: slightly suggestive and short.

Note: this is a little taste. Just to see the reactions.

Who wants me? A chubby, bullied girl who only had her academics to show. I wasn't pretty and had been used by every guy I entered into a relationship with. I gave up my innocence to some guy I thought loved me and I regret it every day. I thought I would never find a guy that wanted me for me and not for an experience. So, when a certain popular boy started sitting with me at lunch, I thought nothing of it. No seats maybe cause no way Miles G. Morales would sit with me out of his own free will. He wasn't even eating lunch, just spread out a poster, a few books sitting on the curled edges as he sketched out some type of graffiti art. Probably an art project. His hair was neatly cut with his signature twin braids hanging on his shoulders, his rough hand moving along the board, pencil scratching and squeaking with each messy line. I was so interested in what he was doing that I had completely forgot about my e-book and was scrolling mindlessly.

Suddenly, his hand stopped moving and I look up, meeting his cold gaze. My stomach flipped, hands becoming sweaty the longer he stared me down. His look could make any girl fold, the slight head tilt, the natural pout on his beautifully plump lips-

"You checking me out?” I met his gaze. He was smirking at me, gaze full of cold amusement. I didn't know how to respond as he stood up, making me think I creeped him out. Instead, he pushed his stuff near me before grabbing his bookbag and walking around the lunch table, sitting by me. Whatever cologne he was wearing was definitely drawing me to him as soon as it invading my senses. My eyes were still wide as he dropped his bookbag near mines, warm hand brushing against my thigh. " What's your name, ma?” my eyes almost crossed at the name that he already assigned to me. No way this was happening.

"Uh um.. (Your name)" he nods, continuing his project. "I'm sorry... didn’t mean to bother you-“

"You ain't bothering me, ma'am... Just moved so this pretty girl can see what I am doing." he interrupted, his fingers trailing down my arm under the table, grabbing my sweaty hand with a firm grip. His hand felt like magic in mines. My heart quicken as I moved closer him, still thinking about his words. I discarded my phone, watching him continue to sketch out something. My head was spinning and I wasn't thinking, letting my chin rest against his broad shoulder. He said nothing, just moved his hand away from mines, snaking his arm around my waist, fingers playing with the fabric of my uniform skirt. The butterflies were swarming my stomach at this point.

To think that I had one class with Miles, he was quiet and was the smartest student in my class, now he was flirting with me. He pulled me flushed into his side, putting his pencil down and turning his head to face me. Once again, I was looking into his eyes. He leaned in and I let him, our lips brushing together. My heart was beating in my ears as he tilted his head, about to kiss me, to seal whatever this was to be official. To seal the deal.

The bell rings and he pulls away, grabbing my hand. He gives it a sort kiss, keeping eye contact with me. He let me go completely, gathering his stuff and leaving. I touch my lips.

That was unbelievable.

#prowler miles #miles morales #miles rambles #short fic #across the spiderverse #earth 42 miles x reader #miles g morales #test #angelspathway

[jamisonwritestf2trash]

not to flood your inbox but... what if the mercs found a freaking cat on the battlefield or base.... i saw that video of soldiers playing with a lil kitten... i gotta know what the boys (and also miss pauling) would do.... would it be an immediate ceasefire so all 16 grown men can play with a kitten... would they use a merc's room to house it.... its ligerallyy a kittycat omg ....

What Would The TF2 Mercs (+ Miss Pauling) Do If They Saw A Kitten Mid-Fight?

————————————————————

Long title but cute idea!

Also never apologize for spamming my ask box, I love it, it helps distract me from the fact that I have no original ideas!

This is going to be a mix of on the battlefield and if they decide to keep the kitten!

Also rough because I only have a short blurb for the Blu team (sorry 😭)

————————————————————

Red Team (+ Miss Pauling)

————————————————————

Demo is the first one to see the kitten. I already headcanon that he has a cat he manages to hide from the other mercs, so he's ecstatic. Like eyes filled with joy, hopping up and down, and seeing kind of ecstatic. Immediately finds a way to get the others to stop fighting, if anyone dared to try and continue the fight he'd kill them immediately. Pets and comforts the poor cat because it's all scared :(

Engie is also very excited! He loves kittens, he would protect them with his life. He lays around and plays with the kitten once it's calmed down. Is already sketching out a cat tower and new room for the baby. Has made the executive decision that the Red team now has a team pet.

Heavy is right next to Engie, holding the kitten when Engie goes off to start sketching. Puts the cat on his lap and immediately almost starts sobbing when it curls up and starts trying to nap.

Medic comes over and I'm not going to lie this man is internally melting, it's adorable! But he's also slightly (insanely) worried because his birds always come first, and is always worried when anything threatens their safety. The other mercs eventually calm him down, swearing on their lives that his birds will be okay. He holds them to that, and eventually let's the other mercs keep it.

Scout is also a mix of super excited and sobbing "It's a fricken kitten! Look at it!" Definitely giving the kitten like a million kisses. Is acting so silly, and doesn't care. Booping it's little nose, slow blinking at it, showering it with love.

Sniper is indifferent at first until Scout steals his hat, turns it upside down, and drops the kitten in it. Then he has fucking heart eyes, a single tear running down his face from under his glasses. Turns away and just says fine to the idea of keeping it.

Spy is so against keeping the cat. It's going to be messy, it's going to be loud, and it's going to be expensive. No one else is going to take care of it. Classic dad does want a cat act. Guess who falls in love with the cat after one day?

Soldier is the most excited, hands down. Is so happy about the cat, it's so cute, it's so fluffy, it's just a baby! He's playing with the cat, giving it love, doing the most out of all of them. If the cat can't be found, you know he's with Soldier.

Pyro. Come on, of course, they're thrilled! Will let the cat crawl all around them, and also let it sleep on their gas mask. Just ugh, they're so cute together. Buys the cat little outfits and buys rainbow cat toys, dumps so much love, treats, and toys on this cat.

Ms. Pauling nearly tears down the door of the base after the match to come and see the cat. She is such a cat lady. She makes sure the cat is okay and even takes the cat to the vet to get all of it's vaccines and a microchip, ignoring Medic saying theirs no need, and claiming he can do it. Definitely began to visit the base more and more often, claiming she's only making sure they don't kill the poor thing.

————————————————————

Blu Team

———————————————————

I'll be honest, I don't think the Blu team would do well with having a cat. I headcanon these silly guys as dog people, they would probably be willing to give the cat over to the Red team for the benefit of the cat. They'd call off the match to keep it safe. All the mercs would sit and play, love, or cuddle with the cats with the Red mercs. Honestly, they enjoy the small break from fighting and just enjoy the time with a cat. Occasionally during a battle, they'll ask about the cat inbetween gunfire.

————————————————————

I was going to work on this yesterday and then I slept instead 😭

I was up until like one writing the anime one but it was worth it to get it out, this one took me a hot minute too, but I kind of love how it turned out, I love cats and love the idea of the Red team being big babies for a kitten. Also! I love adding Ms. Pauling to things, she's such a silly too.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 headcanons #team fortress headcanons #tf2 hcs #tf2 demoman #tf2 engineer #tf2 heavy #tf2 medic #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro

[the-kr8tor]

Woo today's my momma's birthday! I apologise if this is short because of it lol Daily Hobie HC! Hobie would be the most gorgeous muse- like he looks good every angle. Your sketchbook is filled with multiple unfinished and finished scribbles of this gorgeous man, and he doesn't mind it at all. He likes seeing the way you'll glance up at him with a small smile as he rambles on about any possible projects he's thinking of pursuing while both of you have hot cocoa, with yours still only having been drank half-way on the bedside table. Hobie knows you're listening by the way you're still able to ask relevant questions, pointing out any possible flaws in his projects when he asks for feedback on his plan so he can completely proof it. All while, your pencil works flawlessly (flaw-fully, in your mind) on your page, outlining every detail, working to add shading and lighting to your messy sketch of him. You look up momentarily, staring closely at his eyes. It flusters him whenever you do so, but he's learned to press it down and keep his nonchalant demeanor..for now. He admires the way you can depict him so perfectly on page, whether your reference is a photo on your phone, or just him moving around and talking. He loves the way you manage to get all the details, such as his dimples whenever he beams at you, or just the way his nose slightly scrunches up when he's slightly groggy. Although you dont have a full proper sketch, he notices your little doodles in the corners of the pages, usually showing him in some more extravagant action that you aren't ready to do a detailed sketch of. Either way, he loves every single one of your pieces, and he will always feel honored that you love to use him as your muse. His favourite piece of yours is one you swear to burn every time you see it..yet it's still in one piece. You had tried to sketch him out playing his guitar, yet it didn't meet your standards. Hobie had to practically pickpocket it out of your hands to prevent you from ripping it. He keeps it as a folded note somewhere hidden in his room, teasing you with it whenever you come to hang out. Every time you draw him, he's learned that he can't properly get how much he loves it across to you with words, so he immediately goes to attack your face with big kisses, not stopping until he hears your laughter and you surrendering, admitting that it's good. AAAAAAAAA- -🐦‍⬛

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO 🐦‍⬛ ANON'S MOM!!! Tell her Happy birthday for me and I wish her lots of 🎂🎂🎂 💕

Daily Hobie HC!!!

This reminds me sm of my older artist! Reader fic right here!!! (I ate here ngl) I bet this is what happened after it!

This is so cute!!!!! I honestly think he'd subtly stop what he's doing and pose for you once he realizes you're drawing him 🥺🥺🥺

Oh him loving every piece of art you do even though you don't has me all 🥰🥰😍😍 (his hand in marriage pls) and Him keeping it all to himself?! 😭😭😭😭😭😭 I bet he has it all in one box for safekeeping

#ask answered #chatting with lovelies #🐦‍⬛ anon #hobie thoughts #hobie headcanons #🫶🫶🫶

[middleearthpixie]

Human Touch ~ Chapter Two

Summary: Frerin Durin had the perfect life, until he found out his wife was cheating on him. Now, he’s navigating uncharted territory as an about-to-be divorced single dad. Dating is a mess, he’s dealing with the fallout where his kids are concerned, and really, he would just love a vacation away from all of it. 

Elena Madison is new to Sidleburg, new to the history department at the high school, and also navigating life as a newly single parent. The last thing she needed was for her daughter to come down sick, when she hasn’t even had time to unpack the moving boxes, never mind find a pediatrician. And the last thing she ever expected was to meet a man like Dr. Frerin Durin…

Neither Elena nor Frerin were looking for anything, but fate has a way of messing up even the best laid plans. However, both have been hurt and both aren't at all sure they trust themselves, never mind trusting someone else...

Pairings:  Modern!Frerin  x OC Female Elena Madison

Characters: Frerin, Elena, Alyssa, Carol Kingsley, Ashley Leda, Andrea, Flynn, Maura, and Jake

Warnings: None

Rating: T

Word Count: 3.9k

Tag List: @mrsdurin @i-did-not-mean-to @lathalea @linasofia @fizzyxcustard @legolasbadass @kibleedibleedoo @xxbyimm @arrthurpendragon @exhausted-humxn-being @rachel1959 @laurfilijames @sketch-and-write-lover @sherala007 @enchantzz @knittastically @notlostgnome @myselfandfantasy @medusas-hairband @guardianofrivendell @jotink78 @sorisooyaa @ruthoakenshield @frosticenow @quiall321 @dianakc @buckybarnes-thorin @glassgulls @evenstaredits @heilith @asgardianhobbit98 @albionscastle @absentmindeduniverse @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms

If you’d like to be added (or removed) to the tag list, please just let me know!

Previous chapters can be found here. 

“Frerin?”

Frerin looked up as Carol Kingsley came into the lounge. “Are the results back for Alyssa Madison yet?”

“They are. You were right. Just the flu.”

“Good.” He stood up, stretching his arms overhead, and bowed his back, letting out a low sigh of appreciation as his spine popped. “I’m getting too old for overnights.”

“Well, at least you’ve had a slow night.”

“I don't know that’s much better actually.” He took the lab slips from her. “Thanks, Carol.”

“Sure. Hey, how is everything?”

“Truth?”

“Truth.”

“It sucks. I don't know how you’ve been doing this for as long as you have.”

“I don't have a choice, same as you.” Carol tugged a chair out and sank into it. “How’s Flynn doing?”

“He’s seeing a therapist. We talked about his changing schools, but he decided he wants to stay where his friends are and graduate with them next year, so there’s that. I mean, they all know what happened, and they know their mom and I can’t be in the same room together right now without World War Three breaking out. And it just sucks.”

“You know, Alyssa Madison’s mom is pretty cute.”

He peered down at the test results in his hand. Alyssa’s white blood count was higher than normal, but that was to be expected and nothing to be alarmed by. Her other counts were normal or slightly elevated but within a normal range. No cause for concern overall. “Are you trying to get me fired, Carol?”

“Get you fired how? Dating Alyssa would be against the rules. Not to mention creepy as anything. But her mom? That’s fine.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not hitting on the mother of a sick girl tonight. That’s a little far out of my wheelhouse.” He moved to the door and tugged it open. “Thanks for getting these for me.”

“Sure. But, keep her in mind. She was cute.”

He shook his head as he left he lounge. Yes, Elena Madison was cute, but he was not about to hit on her in the middle of the night, in the ER.

Which was a bit too bad, really. Because actually, she was downright hot, as far as he was concerned. She was tiny, maybe a little over five feet tall, if that, with dark hair hastily pulled up into one of those messy bun-things that always made women look adorable. But the first thing he’d noticed about her was her eyes. They were a brown so dark, they looked almost black, and when they met his, he almost sighed out loud. 

And for the first time since he was nineteen years old, Frerin was single. In the midst of an acrimonious divorce, maybe, but single. But since this was an ER and not a club or even the damn grocery store, Elena Madison was off-limits.

Figures.

He made his way down the hall, glancing down at the black Apple Watch on his right wrist. Quarter after five. He was supposed to be off at six, just in time to get Flynn and Maura off to school, push through to get Jake to school, then he could sleep. 

Both Elena and Alyssa were asleep, the lights in the room off except for the low one behind Alyssa’s bed. He closed the door softly behind him and came over to see Elena curled in almost a ball in the chair at her daughter’s bedside. 

Carefully, so as not to startle her, he touched her shoulder. “Mrs. Madison?”

She jerked awake.”Yes? I’m up, I swear.”

“It’s all right. I just wanted to give you the results of Alyssa’s bloodwork. No sign of meningitis so it’s probably just the flu. Fluids and rest are all she really needs. Tylenol for the fever and I’d suggest you keep her home from school for the rest of the week. I can write a note for you if you need one, which, since she goes to the same school as my daughter, I know she will.”

Elena sat up, rubbing one eye. “I’d appreciate it, thank you.”

“Sure. Just make sure she rests and she should be fine in a few days. If the fever doesn’t resolve in a day or two, bring her back in and we’ll to the tap, but I don't think that’s going to be necessary.”

She took the paper from him. “I can do that. Thank you so much.”

“No problem. Follow up with your reg—oh, that’s right… you don't have a pediatrician for her. If you want, bring her back in a few days and I’ll take care of her.”

“Here?”

“Pedes is up on the eight floor. Just tell my secretary and she’ll come find me. I’m on nights next week as well, so I’ll be here from six to six at least.”

“Thank you, Dr. Durin.”

He smiled. “Of course. You take care of yourself, too. Don’t let yourself get too run down. Do you have any kind of help?”

“No. It’s just us and we’ve only been here a few weeks.” She folded the lab results and tucked them into her purse. “But we’ll manage.”

“Well, if Alyssa spikes another fever or you do, just come back. Carol always knows where to find me.”

“I will. And again, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Good luck.” He smiled and looked over at Alyssa. “And don’t worry. She should be just fine.”

“I know, but… you know how it is when it’s your kid. You just want to fix it for them.”

“Yeah. I know. And one of the hardest things as a parent is accepting that you can’t.”

She looked up at him and for a moment, the urge to ask her to grab a cup of coffee while Alyssa slept a little longer hovered at his lips. But before he could, Alyssa stretched and opened her eyes. “Do I need that shot?”

He shook his head. “You don't need any shots or needles, Alyssa. It’s just the flu, so Mom’s going to take you home and tuck you into bed and you can go back to sleep.”

“When can I go back to school?”

“Monday.”

“I’ll email your teachers,” Elena said, patting her through the blanket, “and bring home any work they assign.”

“Do I have to do it?”

“Yes,” Elena and Frerin spoke at the same time and Elena let out a soft laugh. “See? Even your doctor thinks so.”

“Damn,” Alyssa muttered, but she smiled. “Okay.”

“I’ll be right back with your discharge instructions and that note.” Frerin smiled first at Alyssa, then Elena. 

“Thank you, Dr. Durin.”

“You’re welcome. Feel better, Alyssa.”

He stepped out into the hallway in time to see his sister-in-law, Leda, at the registration desk, her and Thorin’s infant daughter Andrea in her arms. “Leda? What’s wrong?”

“Dr. Durin,” the desk clerk, Ashley, looked more than a little nervous, “she said she knew you so I hope it’s okay I buzzed her back.”

“It’s fine, but you should really check with me or whoever before letting anyone here.” He looked from her to Leda, who looked as if she hadn’t slept in days. “What’s wrong?”

“I don't know. Thorin thinks maybe she’s teething, but she’s running a fever and won’t stop crying and he thinks I’m crazy for bringing her here, but—”

“Okay, Leda, it’s fine. You’re lucky. I’m off in a few minutes, so you just caught me. Is Thorin home with James?”

She nodded, setting Andrea’s carrier on the floor. “He’s fine. It’s just… I don't know… I know a lot of stuff is going around and they both have been sick and…”

He smiled, draping an arm about her shoulders. “It’s okay. Come on.” He gave her a squeeze, then crouched to lift the carrier, adding, “Ashley, I’ll be in Curtain Three if anyone comes looking.”

“Okay, Dr. D.”

“Dr. D?” Leda asked with a tired grin as he led her down the short corridor to the curtained areas of the ER.

“Yeah, I know. She’s young.”

“Frer, they’re all young.”

He grinned as he set Andrea’s carrier on the bed and clicked the handle back. “When was the last time you took her temp?”

“About half an hour ago. It was one-oh-one.”

“Is she nursing?”

Leda nodded, rubbing one eye. “She is, but not like she usually does.”

“Is she peeing?”

A tired laugh. “Like a champ.”

“Okay.” He unbuckled the five-point harness and carefully lifted his niece from the fleecy blanket she’d been zipped into. “Hey, honey, you don't mind if Uncle Frerin takes a look, right?”

Andrea’s eyes were deep blue and wide open and she stared at him as if he was the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen. He cradled her against him in one arm and pressed his hand to her forehead, which was warm, but that could have also been from being bundled up. 

Her face scrunched up and she let out a soft cry and without thinking, he pressed a kiss into the top of her head, into the silky almost-black baby hair that poked up from static. “Shhh… it’s okay, little bit.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Leda wince and as he gently lay Andrea on the bed alongside her carrier, he said, “It really is okay, Leda. She’s a little warm, she’s nursing and making urine, so it’s probably just a virus. First, you’ve got her too bundled up, so I’m just going to peel off a layer.”

“It’s so cold out.”

“It is, but between her sleeper and the fleece snowsuit and the fleece BundleMe? It’s too much.” He unsnapped the fleece snowsuit in question and carefully eased it from Andrea’s arms and legs. First, he took the tympanic thermometer from the basket on its stand, slid a fresh cap onto it and carefully fit it into Andrea’s left ear. She let out a soft giggle, trying to squirm away even as he said, “Hold still, honey…”

It beeped within a few seconds and he smiled when he looked down at the readout. “Her temp’s down to one hundred.” He popped off the prophylactic cap to toss in the trash and returned the thermometer, then turned back to Andrea. He fit the earpieces of his borrowed stethoscope into his ears and unbuttoned the sleeper to press the diaphragm into Andrea’s chest. He moved it and listened. Moved it again and listened. “Her heart and lungs sound fine. Lungs are clear.”

He straightened up. “I can draw blood, if it’d make you feel better, but I don't think it’s really necessary.” 

“Thorin told me I was just being overprotective and that I shouldn’t bother you.”

“It’s not a bother.” He tugged the earpieces free and draped the stethoscope about his neck once more. “You’re her mother, it’s normal to worry when it’s your kid. Trust me, I’ve seen mothers bring in their babies for all kinds of things that wouldn’t phase them if it was themselves. There’s nothing wrong with being careful. And tell Thorin it’s not bothering me at all, okay?”

“You really think I’m just being overly cautious?”

“Leda, there is no such thing.” He tucked Andrea back into her sleeper and buttoned it up. “It’s better to be safe than sorry, and she’s just got a little bit of a cold. Fluids and rest, like I’m telling most of the parents who’ve come through here tonight.”

“Why are you even down here? You’re not an ER doctor.”

“I know, but I’m covering for the usual pediatrician who covers the ER. And,” he looked up at the clock, “my relief should be here and I am off the clock. Just have to run Leigh’s stethoscope back to her and I am out of here until six PM tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry I bothered you, Frerin.”

“Don't be, and it’s not a bother, Leda. Really. I don't mind.” He smiled as he whisked the stethoscope from around his neck. “Give me five minutes to run this upstairs and I’ll walk you out, okay?”

Leda smiled as she tucked Andrea back into her carrier. “Okay.”

“You can wait in the lounge, if you—”

“Excuse me, Dr. Durin?”

Frerin and Leda turned at the same time and Frerin smiled as Elena Madison said, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but the nurse never came back with our discharge information or that note.”

“Really? Okay. Give me five minutes to print them off and then Leda, I’ll go up and drop this off and then we can go.”

Leda smiled. “We’ll wait. In the lounge?”

“Yeah.” He leaned back slightly. “Down the hall, on your right.”

She carried Andrea out of the curtained area, and he turned back to Elena. “Sorry about that. Sometimes orders get lost in the shuffle of shift change. Come with me and I’ll get them for you.”

She followed him back to the main desk and he ducked around to one of the laptops. “What’s the code for this department again?” he asked no one in particular.

“Three-three-one-five, Dr. D.,” Ashley called.

“Thank you.” He typed the code in, hit the button to print, and moved down to the bank of printers at the far end of the station to grab the sheets of as they printed. When the absence note came out, he plucked a pen from the cup on the counter to scrawl his signature across the bottom of it, then plunked the pen back into its cup. “Here you go, Mrs. Madison. I’m sorry about that.”

She took them. “It’s fine. I was just beginning to think we’d been forgotten.”

“Nah. That isn’t going to happen too easily. Take Alyssa home and both of you get some rest,” he came around the edge of the desk to press the sheaf into her hand, “you both have had a long night.”

“You’re not kidding. And believe me,” Elena took the papers, “I’m going to do just that. Thank you again, Dr. Durin.”

“Any time. Have a good night—er, good morning.”

“You, too.”

She turned to go back to Alyssa’s room, while he made his way to the lounge and poked his head in. “I swear, Leda, I’ll be back in just a few minutes.”

“No problem.” Leda smiled. “She was cute, Frerin.”

“Oh, not you, too,” he groaned. “One of the nurses was determined to fix me up with her as well. Her daughter was my patient. Fourteen year old with the flu.”

“And you can’t ask out a patient’s mother?”

He sighed, leaning against the doorjamb. “Technically, yes, I can, but it’s kind of not the right time, considering she brought her daughter in because she was worried about her.”

“Frerin, I’ve seen that look she was giving you. I’m pretty sure it’s how I looked at Thorin before we got together.”

He smiled, shaking his head. “Now is not a good time, Leda. I’m running a short-handed department now, my kid’s in therapy, I’m in the middle of a divorce and my soon to be ex-wife is determined to make my life as miserable as possible over it. Somehow, getting back into the dating pool is not high on my list of priorities.”

“No one says you have to marry her, Frer,” she told him, her blue eyes gleaming with the devil. “Nothing wrong with something casual.”

“Even so, I’m not hitting on her in the ER, Leda. I’m just not. Now, let me go run this back to the nurse who was kind enough to loan it to me, grab my coat, and then I’ll be back, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Good.” He rapped his knuckles against the doorjamb, then left the lounge to head back to the elevator bank. 

He and Toni separated a year ago, and while he’d been out on a few dates, they amounted to nothing more than hours of his life he’d never get back, and even after all this time, he still wasn't comfortable with being single yet. He and Toni had been together since they were nineteen, married at twenty and were parents just three months after their wedding. Their relationship was far from perfect, but the final straw came when he found out she was cheating on him, with a kid only a few years older than their son Flynn. He was no angel, and was guilty of several short-lived but utterly intense affairs as well, but while they’d tried to salvage things before, they both knew it was pointless now. Their marriage was irretrievably broken and there was no fixing it, there’d be no reconciliation. The end had been coming for a long while and her affair with the kid was what it took for them to both finally admit the truth and he’d filed for divorce, and now his focus was on work and the kids and on little else. He just wasn't ready to invest himself again in anything more than that.

“Leigh, thank you for this,” he said as he held out the stethoscope. “Do you think you could order me a pink one?”

“Pink, Frerin?”

He grinned. “A patient thought I should get a pink steth.”

“I’ll talk to Jerry when he comes in later. Any other colors?”

“Nah. Just pink.”

“Go home, Dr. Durin.”

“I am.” He smiled and pushed away from the desk to make his way to his office at the end of the hallway. His secretary, Katie would be in for nine, but for now, all was quiet as he passed her desk to his inner sanctum. 

His black leather bomber jacket hung on a tree just inside the doorway and as he shrugged into it, he looked over at the photos in silver frames on the credenza behind his desk. He and Toni had three kids; two boys, with their daughter sandwiched between them. The divorce was hitting Flynn, their oldest, the hardest, and with a sigh, Frerin wondered—and not for the first time—if maybe he and Toni should have just stayed together until Jake, their youngest, at least graduated high school. 

No, as tough as things were right now, it was a far healthier environment for the kids than being witness to their parents’ increasingly toxic marriage. He didn't know about Toni, but he knew he was happier. Happier than he’d been in a long time. 

Maybe he should have asked Elena Madison to go and grab a cup of coffee or lunch. 

He glanced over at the desktop computer. He could get her number off one of the forms she’d filled out. But that seemed a little underhanded, so maybe not. 

He sighed softly. Damn it.

By the time he got home Flynn and Maura were up and at the table in the kitchen, not talking over cereal. He came in through the kitchen door, shrugging out of his jacket as he said, “Hey, guys. Your brother up yet?”

“Not yet.” Flynn looked up. “How was your shift?”

“Quiet, for the most part. Just a few kids with the flu.” He moved to the Keurig and fired it up. “Maura, do you know Alyssa Madison?”

“Yeah. She’s in my Algebra class. Why?”

“She came into the ER tonight and said she was a freshman, so I just wondered.”

Maura grinned. “Fourteen’s a little young for you, isn’t it, Dad?”

“Ha ha.” He tugged open the drawer under the Keurig to take out a medium roast blend and popped it into the machine. “Anyway, I was just curious. You two got all your homework done last night, right?”

Flynn rolled his eyes. “You ask us every morning. And what do we tell you?”

“Just making sure.” He took the cup off the base and lifted it for a sip, glanced at the microwave clock over the cup’s rim. “You two better get moving.”

Flynn sighed as he walked over to put his cereal bowl in the dishwasher. “We’ve got time, Dad.”

“Only if you catch all the lights and there’s no traffic.” 

“We’ll be fine.”

“I don't want you rushing, Flynn. You’ve only had your license a few months.”

“Dad.”

He smiled at the exasperation in Flynn’s voice, which was almost as deep as his own. “Okay, I’ll stop with the lecture now. Have a good day, both of you. I’ll see you later.”

He moved back to press a kiss into the top of Maura’s nest of dark curls. “Don’t talk your brother’s ear off. He has to concentrate.”

“I won’t, Dad.” Maura picked up her backpack from the chair in the corner and slung it over her shoulder. “C’mon, Flynn.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He clumped out of the kitchen after his sister and Frerin sighed at the soft silence that settled around him. He had half an hour before he had to wake Jake, and so used that time to sit down and write out bills. Then it was time to wake his youngest and get him off to school as well. All that involved was ushering him out to Frerin’s silver Infiniti and buckling him into the backseat.

“Dad?” Jake asked as Frerin headed along Route Seven toward Sidleburg proper. The intermediate school was on the western side of town

He glanced up at the rearview mirror. “Yeah, bud?”

“Do we have to go to Mom’s this weekend?”

“’Fraid so, little man. It’s her weekend.”

“I don't want to go.”

“Why?”

Jake sighed softly. He looked so much like his mother, with a thick mop of dark red curls and wide hazel eyes, where Flynn and Maura had inherited Frerin’s dark hair and blue eyes. “She has a new boyfriend and he’s kind of a jerk.”

Frerin bit back a sigh of his own. “Well, ignore him if you can. You’re there to spend time with her.”

“I know, but… I’d rather stay home.”

“It’s only two days, Jake.”

“Two really long days, Dad.”

He grinned. “I know, but you’ve got your brother and sister there to keep you company.”

“Is Mom ever coming home?”

Frerin angled into the drop off lane at Sidleburg Intermediate School, where Jake was in the fifth grade before saying, “No, Jake. She’s not. We’ve told you, Mom and Dad aren’t going to be living together any longer. We just can’t, Jake. And it’s better that we don’t—for you, for Maura, for Flynn. For all of us.”

He sighed. “I miss when we were a family.”

“Yeah. I know. And I know it sucks sometimes. But, in the long run, it’s better this way.”

“What if she just told you she was sorry?”

“Jake, some day, you’ll understand why that’s not possible. Grownups are complicated and so are relationships and none of us is perfect.”

Jake unbuckled his seatbelt and shoved open the door. “I’ll see you later, Dad. I have to get to class.”

“Jake, I—” He pressed his lips together as Jake slammed the door and ran off to join up with his friends. Just when he thought the kids were acclimating to all of the changes, one of them reminded him it was an ongoing process, getting used to such a change. 

He sighed as he steered back out of the parking lot and headed home. They weren’t the only ones who needed to be reminded it was a process, getting used to the change. But now wasn't the time to dwell on it. Now, he wanted to go home and get some sleep.

#Gerard Butler #Frerin Durin #Frerin x OC #AU #Frerin Fic #Is it hot in here? #Romance #Modern AU #ER AU #Hospital AU #Richard Armitage #The Hobbit #Thorin Oakenshield #Hobbit Fin #Hobbit Fanfic #Fan fiction #The Hobbit fan fiction

[o2studies]

༻`` 09 Jan 24 — Tuesday

100 days of productivity 9/100

I've made a lot of progress with my final piece 🎨 in just under 2 hours and it feels like I did a lot more tonight than the few weeks I've spent painting it. I'm so so happy with the shading, the colours (!) and the style of the hair!! I may also have somehow got my face covered in paint during that 😅 And that sketch in the right pic? I'm inove with it! If I ever got a tattoo it would be that, messy and all.

This morning I revised chemistry in form class and my studies and got confused but I'll work it out! Went slightly ahead in math with one of my friends and we also got a bit confused but it's all good! (They made me listen to some of Hozier's new songs and I already loved that man but I gotta listen to him more). And on that note, Hozier, Of Monsters And Men and Florence + The Machine are just amazing together! 🎶 The vibes are just immaculate ✨️

Tomorrow:

I will follow a time blocked schedule and keep that going for a few days, well see how it goes

study physics, chemistry and do more art

walk my dogs

tidy my floor some more

#chaotic academia #dark academia #light academia #studyblr #study motivation #study inspiration #studying #student #100 days of productivity #100dop #100 days of productivity challenge #art #a level art #chemistry #physics #math #pen drawing #drawing on skin #dragon #to do list #studyspo #playlist #hozier #florence and the machine #o2life #o2studies #of monsters and men

[rainbowroadonsteroids]

it's my monthly respawn time and what better to do than show off a tf2 merc oc i have and some shit about them 🗿👍

There were a couple sketches I did not too long ago bc why sleep (it's almost 4am where I live btw), but I have more sketches of them of course. They were actually my first TF2 merc oc, and they're a support class mercenary who specializes in chemistry, hence being called The Chemist. They even have a chemical lab in the base that they've had to beg to get secured, as Scout keeps killing himself going in there. I'll rehash some of the basic notes too in case it's unclear on the image.

(Basic Notes)

The Chemist's legal name is Shannon Ridley.

They 35 years old in the game, and 39 years old in the comic; they were born circa 1933.

They are trans and nonbinary, and they use they/them pronouns.

They are 6'2" (189cm) and 200lbs (91kg).

They are Irish and Polish, and due to being raised in Ireland, they have an Irish accent. (When angry enough it bleeds into a near Scottish sounding accent.)

For the most part, they'd be the only merc to ever be consistently referred to by name, as most of the other mercs refer to them as Ridley (sometimes with a prefix of Mx. or Dr.), and their first name is rarely ever said.

Their lab coat is tight on them, aside from the bottom half of it. The upper half is tight though and it clings to their torso.

They are androsexual, which essentially just means they're attracted to masculinity.

Like how the other mercenaries have unique teeth shapes, Ridley has a vampire-like tooth structure, with their canines being pointy like fangs.

Their hair is a darker reddish-brown color, though for a while it was dyed to be a slightly brighter tone.

They carry a special carrier with them that stores their chemicals in a secure manner.

While they may be a strong merc they aren't the fastest. Their speed sits at about 93%, matching with Demo; so while it isn't terrible, it could be faster.

Their health matches with Medic (when he has Vita-Saw equipped), with their health being 140/210.

They seem to be close friends with Demoman. On the opposite spectrum, they're seen chasing Scout around a lot of times.

(Not so Basic Notes)

Ridley has attachment issues, and seems to want to cling to loved ones out of fear they'll leave them.

They have a romantic (and more) interest in Medic, though they get skittish about talking to him about it.

The "scars" they have above their chest are just tattoos.

They have a PhD in biochemistry, a master's degree in chemistry, and a bachelor's degree in biology.

Their bedroom is rather messy in comparison to their workspace, however like with their workspace, they don't like having open food containers in the area.

They overheat rather fast, and require white noise to sleep. Their solution? Two fans going constantly.

They were originally born in Poland, however due to the time period and certain circumstances, their parents made it so they could flee and at least try to live a good life. However, their aunt took this as an opportunity to raise the daughter she never had, at the expense of Ridley's own happiness.

Ridley is intersex.

They'd likely be one of the only mercs to not have a driver's license as they don't feel comfortable with driving like... at all.

They do research with Medic a lot, and they like to teach him stuff about chemistry, much as how he likes to teach them about medical practices.

They're a martial artist, and has a black belt in taekwondo. (They also do training sessions with Heavy, and Soldier has been mistaken a few times in thinking they're calling Heavy a hussy because of them saying "huss" when they do something.)

They do not use the bases tap water and instead has a water jug they use. They also claim they're trying to petition Teufort to install new water pipes and deep clean the water intake system, to no avail.

They crochet in their free time, and one of their melee attacks involves them trying to stick a crochet hook through someone's eye.

I'll likely post something later on that goes more in depth about them, but in the meantime, here they are! (And watch me disappear for like a few more months lmao)

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 oc #tf2 oc art #tf2 chemist #tf2 ridley #the chemist #shannon ridley #they/them #transgender #nonbinary #intersex

[pinkwoolart]

I’m almost through season 4 of the Clone Wars animated series and I am very much down bad for Cad Bane. This skrunkly ass bastard has stolen my heart and he refuses to give it back. Maybe it’s my love for bounty hunter characters in general, or his lanky frame, or his slightly gravelly and slightly alien voice that just does something to me 🥴 or maybe it’s that he’s not a completely amoral cold blooded killer (though he is LITERALLY cold blooded) but can gain a genuine respect for those he deems deserve it for one reason or another. Planning to make a double sided dakimakura design for him. No promises on when it’ll be finished since work has me pretty busy still. But I finished the sketch and did a sloppy basic coloring job to get the idea out there and so you all know I’m not dead and haven’t fully abandoned artistic endeavors. I’m just way slower than usual. Keep in mind this is NOT the finished product. Just a WIP. The literal messy as hell sketch layer. Expect a side B at some point 🤷🏻‍♀️

#cad bane #clone wars #star wars clone wars #Star Wars cad bane #fuck I adore him and I haven’t found anyone else whose made a daki of him #so fuck it #doing it myself #just because I can doesn’t mean I should #but I can and will #this nasty duros can have his way with me and I wouldn’t complain #let me simp

[bone-evidence]

4 and 8 for the writing asks !

4. What is your favourite line you wrote this year?

Oh my god that's such a hard question, holy shit- Here, I'll give you a bunch since I can't pick, and since I already did question 8! With some sneak peeks to things I haven't posted yet >:D

To Cure What Ails:

Gilbert breathed in those words, let them fill him with church bells and a sobbed-out eulogy, and then breathed them out until there was nothing left in him. Just an empty shell, trembling in the cold arms of a ghost.

You Brought Me Your Illness, I Brought You My Love:

“You… you didn’t have to do that, you know.” Tolys whispered, much softer than he had before. He could whine and moan and protest himself being taken care of no problem, but to know that his dog was thought of as well… He’d try to deny it later, but in the moment, a much sweeter warmth filled his heart. “Thank you.”

Gilbert was grateful that his mask obscured half his face, because he couldn’t stop the soft smile that crossed his lips if he tried. 

My Reason:

Matthew stood up straight and looked for a price tag. When he found it, he couldn’t help but laugh.

“Damaged goods. You and me both, eh?” He spoke softly to the bear. A gentle smile settled on his face as he tucked the stuffy under his arm and moved on. The books in the next aisle were calling his name. 

Witch in the Woods:

By the time Madeline finally passed out, she had completely filled two pages in her sketchbook with her muses. One page was a mix of the wolf and the fae, a recreation of the beautiful fairy dance that had lifted her spirits so. The other page was filled entirely with sketches of the wolf. Every facial expression she’d seen from him was documented, along with a guess as to what the front of him looked like as he scared away the villagers. 

That page bore the label ‘Mr. Wolf’. But in the morning, she would find the words crossed out, with a name scrawled underneath in messy writing:

Gilbert. 

Grandaddy Purple:

“I’m giving you a choice. Hypothetically, ignoring everything you’ve ever been told, what would you want?”

Gilbert moved a little, enough that he could hear his lover’s steady heartbeat and feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. Crimson eyes slid closed as he murmured his answer. “I… I think I would want to go to heaven. I always did like the sound of a house saved for me up there. Do you think God charges much for rent?"

Concerning Prussians:

 Prussia nodded, and the soft smile he received in return found itself a loving home in his long memory.

Shatter Me:

Gilbert ran a calloused hand through his choppy white hair and took a deep breath. Folklore and rumours were what would keep him safe and hidden, as much as their memory ran his blood cold.

Sweeter Than Wine:

Unfortunately for Tolys, he discovered what happens when one tries to laugh and drink at the same time. He managed to turn to the side just in time to not splatter Lovino with the wine that burned his nose. When he sat back up, slightly cross-eyed and sniffling a little, he saw his dear dinner partner trying so hard to stifle his giggles. Their eyes met, and it was all over for both of them. Their shrieking, boisterous laughter echoed across the Italian countryside, joining the song of the seagulls that wheeled overhead. 

That Special Feeling:

The pair erupted into a whooping chorus of cheering in both German and English, of love confessions and promises all shouted louder than the music had ever been playing. Gilbert stood, with Arthur securely in his arms, and spun them around until they were laughing like schoolchildren and dizzy enough to fall right into the pool of leaves. 

Oceandeep:

Arthur couldn’t help himself if he tried. He reached a hand out, slowly so as not to scare the beauty before him, and gently grazed the sharp edge of his jawline with the back of his fingers. He was rewarded with a lightning-fast snap of those deadly jaws that made him yelp in surprise. The mershark’s laughter accompanied the furious beating of Arthur’s heart, and though he was decently sure he’d been nicked, he simply rolled his eyes.

“You’re going to be the death of me, aren’t you?”

A toothy smirk broke on the mershark’s face. “Pray that I make it quick.”

Annnd that's something from almost everything I wrote this year lmao! Oceandeep, Shatter Me, Witch in the Woods and To Cure What Ails will hopefully be coming out in the new year!

#writeblr ask game #thanks for the ask <3!!

[pivsketch]

bunch of basil stuff from earlier this year and then some. like taggart's compilation of sketches, the earliest/roughest stuff is in the upper left hand corner and it kinda develops from there.

also a page of him back when he was afterburner. almost a totally different guy

Basil facts™ -------------

this got so long. im sorry. he is the main character and my special quiet weird moody boy so of course i have to throw him under the bus to talk about all his psychological problems. im grabbing and shaking you, reader. its important to know that basil sucked and now he still sucks but slightly less and in a different way

"Reformed hyper-competitive asshole" who now exclusively hangs out with the least competitive man of all time (Taggart)

He was a parkour guy in middle/high school and was extremely dedicated about it. Downright passionate. He started a group with his friends and it somehow became kind of a big deal? His parents found out he was not doing respectable sports activity and they moved after his sophomore year, which he will never forgive them for doing. He later got extremely mad about how his friends were running the group without him (lol. get it. because they… sorry) and he had this incredibly messy falling out with them. He has not done or talked about parkour since because he is just that bitter about it.

Both of Basil's parents have very serious careers in business and/or management and the personality types to go with it. Being raised by neglectful control freaks with high standards did not do Basil very well. Also, uh, see above. Unsurprisingly, he thoroughly estranged himself after he became an independent adult. Also unsurprisingly, Basil grew up to be quite an asshole!

It was one of Basil's friends who actually wanted to get into wrestling, Basil just tagged along with him to wrestleschool for moral support (and because he had nothing better to do). He ended up getting really into it. Really really into it. His friend accused him of coming along just to show him up (which… was not entirely untrue) and they got into a big argument about it. His friend quit, Basil stuck with it, and eventually got accelerated into the intermediate class (which Taggart and Chip were in).

He used to have a seasonal crab fishing job, which he quit when he got into wrestling, and then he quit wrestling, so he went back to his seasonal crab fishing job, then quit it again to mill about at home. Nowadays he occasionally helps Taggart do work at their wrestleschool (since they spend so much time using the facilities there anyway). Is it technically wrestling? Yes, but not to Basil, because he's "just helping his friend out." Whatever helps him sleep at night, I guess!!

He still really likes wrestling, but he refuses to do it anymore. He fully psyched himself out of it because he realized that, despite everything hes done in his adult life (estranging himself from his folks, roughing it out on his own, working miserably on a fishing boat for years) he still grew up to sound exactly like his parents, who he hates. You know, just a bit of a majorly crippling life-identity crisis. He'd get over it faster if he just talked with anyone about it or went to therapy (but he wont) (because then what about the story??? the plot??? the narrative??????). Instead, he's just locked himself down into some sort of holding pattern as he tries to casually and nonchalantly absorb how to be a different (better?) person from Taggart, who is the kindest and nicest person he's ever known in his life. Is that love or what? Well, probably not to Basil, because his parents never really taught him that. lol. lmao. he has so many hangups

Basil's known Taggart for like ~5 years now which is probably the longest time he's ever been friends with someone without having a disastrous falling out. Good job Basil! Keep up... the good work... heh :)

He's fine with either bay-zel (like the herb) or bazzle (like the name). For a time he used to arbitrarily pick one or the other just as an excuse to give people shit for getting his name "wrong."

#TAGCEN #wow that was far too many words about basil. whatever!! im no longer burdened by the words. im free now #anyway i saw a thing that said ''sc○rpio is one of the most misunderstood signs of the zodiac'' and it made me laugh really really hard #this took me so long to post because i wanted to draw him doing a Wrestle Move™ #and it turned out to be the hardest thing in the world to draw actually. whoops!! #dont ask me what it is. i dont know. i looked at many words and i still couldnt tell u the diff between a boston crab and a sharpshooter

[in-my-feels-probably]

Hiii congrats on 1.5k! ♡♡♡

I'm requesting for an option one:

✨so to participate for this one, all you have to do is give me a character from a fandom and why you picked them, and any information about yourself you want to give me, and i’ll write you a blurb and tell you why i think your chosen character would like you.✨

And I'm choosing James Potter simply bc his characterization on both fanon and canon is interesting in general. I love his sunshine personality, the sheer arrogantconfident attitude and the love and adoration he has for his friends (the man became an animagus for his bsf and died for his wife and child ffs),, and honestly the description "it was james who had an ego the size of a lake but a heart to match it" that sold it to me. I also kinda have a thing for cute confident guys in glasses and messy curls maybe but let's ignore that

About me,, so I consider myself a stem girly (studied bio and I'm working in a lab atm), I'm sorta a black cat person, an introvert, and I have this tendency of keeping to myself most times, I'm consider the weird, chubby, quiet art kid bc i love arts (like doodling and sketching) and I also like singing along to songs when I'm working on things,,, I had like a phase where I kept changing hair colors monthly and my current style is a bit modernized vintage 70s outfits and casual corporate wear bc sometimes I like exuding the energy of a strong independent woman who can do great things bc I consider myself as one!!

I think that's all for me,, thanks so much and congrats again!! ♡

hi!

thanks for participating :)

(first of all, that’s one of my favorite quotes from atyd omg)

i think james would be drawn to you just because you’re a lot different than he is. he’d find you fascinating, and he’d make it a point to get to know you. he’s a very social and easygoing person, and i don’t think he does very well on his own. one of his main love languages is definitely quality time. but while i think he’s a social person, i do think he also gets a little burnt out. everyone relies on him to be the positive one, and it would be hard on him always being that person for everyone else when no one would be it for him. with you, he’d never feel like he had to put on a front. you’d be easy to calmly talk to and open up to, and he wouldn’t feel like he needed to entertain you or keep the conversation going. you’d be content to have a quiet day with him if he wanted one, and he would never say no to getting to spend time with you.

he would find your interest in art really endearing. whether that be in the way you expressed yourself through clothes, the songs he’d catch you singing to yourself, or your sketches you’d show him. james is a very talented person, but i don’t think he’s a very artistic person. so he’d think it was really cool that you were, and he’d always be up for hearing about it. he’d also think your interest in science is cool. he’s smart in a certain sense and gets passable grades, but being a top performing student isn’t really that high on his list of priorities. your education being important to you would show him that you’re really driven and hardworking, and he’d be really proud of all the effort you put into things.

—

he’d also definitely pick you as his partner in potions because of your skill in the lab.

he’d watch over your shoulder as you mixed ingredients into the cauldron, slightly bewildered at how nonchalantly you were reading through your textbook and brewing the potion with ease. every once in a while you’d look up and ask him to help you, or you’d explain what you were doing as you worked.

sirius would gripe from the adjacent table where he was sitting on his stool, in a temporary timeout from remus because he’d somehow already managed to fuck up their potion.

“it’s no fair! how come you get the good partner and im stuck with moony? he won’t even let me touch the cauldron.”

you’d chuckle, continuing to read through the instructions. “i wouldn’t either. i’m barely letting james help.”

“hey!” james would say, feigning offense as he threw an arm around your shoulder. “i’ll have you know i’m very helpful. one of us has to carry the ingredients all the way over from the shelf and back. what would my mum say if i let you do all the heavy lifting?”

“yes, how very chivalrous of you,” you’d tease, leaning into his side.

he’s grin down at you, passing you another jar of ingredients as he read the textbook over your shoulder. “i know. that’s just the kind of guy i am. i’m all about teamwork, love. a joint effort and all that.”

“sure you are, potter.”

you’d playfully roll your eyes, taking the jar from his hand. he’d continue watching in silence as you worked, resting his chin on your shoulder.

—

thanks again for participating! sorry this is a little short, i hope you enjoyed it :)

#harry potter #followers celebration #marauders #james potter #1.5k followers #1.5k followers celebration #1500 followers