#i just got a new sketchbook and Fancy Pencils and this was my first time drawing with them

[hairmetal666]

The note shows up in Eddie's mailbox cubby on Valentine's Day.

It's nothing fancy, loopy cursive handwriting on lined paper:

"I know this is probably silly but I can't go another day without saying it, and today seems appropriate for this kind of confession. Seeing you in the morning is the best part of my day. You're so gorgeous it leaves me breathless. I hope you don't mind if I don't leave my name. Just wanted you to know that you're beautiful."

His eyes fill with tears that he blinks back, a goofy smile stretching his mouth wide.

"You good there, Munson?" Robin Buckley asks.

"Oh, yup, yeah, all good." He laughs. "Just got one of those 'you're my favorite teacher Mr. Munson!' notes."

He squeezes the letter to his chest before slipping it in his pocket.

---

The worst thing about Eddie's new job is that someway, somehow, Steve-fucking-Harrington works here too. PE teacher, JV basketball coach, of-fucking-course. Once a douchebag jock, always a douchebag jock. What makes it all worse is that he's still the prettiest guy Eddie's ever seen.

---

The first week of March, there's a commotion in the hallway that has him rushing out of his room, ready to breakup a fight. He finds Harrington already there, holding Dustin Henderson and Will Byers by their shoulders. Troy Walsh and James Dante stand across from them, wearing matching snarls.

Of course Harrington is picking on little nerd kids; he knew it. But before he steps forwards to break it up, Steve speaks, voice low and angry. "You want to tell me what happened here, Troy?"

"Byers tripped. He really should watch where he's going," Troy says. James laughs.

Steve's glare goes even more icy, more disdainful (it's so fucking hot, Eddie hates it). "You want to take that again? And try being honest this time, or you're suspend from the team."

Troy splutters for long enough that Eddie finally notices Will's stricken face, the sketchpad and snapped colored pencils littering the linoleum.

"I saw you take those things from Will, and unfortunately, I'll have to call your parents and you will be responsible for purchasing a new sketchbook and pencils. You're also benched for the next four games."

The boys shout, but when Steve raises a hand they quiet immediately. "You want to complain more, or do you want it to be five games?"

"No, sir," they answer before scampering off.

Harrington faces Dustin and Will. "You boys okay?" he asks them.

"We're good, Mr. H," Dustin answers.

"Glad to hear it." Steve begins collecting Will's ruined belongings, stops to study one of the drawings.

"This is really good, Will."

Will flushes. "Thanks. It's my character for dnd,"

"Dnd? That's that game that El and Max are always talking about? With the character sheets and the dice?"

"Yeah!" says Dustin. "You know it?"

Steve's smile is a little bashful, and it tugs at Eddie's heart in a way he has to ignore. "Not much. Just from what the girls have said. You want to tell me about it?"

"Really?" Their eyes light up.

"Really. You can stop by the gym during lunch. Only if you want to, though."

"Cool," says Dustin.

He pats them both on the shoulder, and they hurry away, leaving Steve and Eddie suddenly alone.

Eddie should head back to his class, hasn't been needed in this situation at all, really, but before he can disappear, Steve spots him and his eyes widen.

"You need something, Munson?" Steve's cheeks go a faint pink.

He shakes his head, feels wrong-footed. "Uh, that was really cool what you did just there."

"They're really good kids," Steve says. "I know them a little. Used to babysit El Hopper." He slides his hands into the pockets of his khakis and, seriously, fuck Harrington for looking like that in a pair of Dockers.

"Babysitter, Harrington? Never thought I'd see the day. Or that you'd be the one defending a bunch of nerds," Eddie says. He means it teasing, but Steve's face warps into a frown.

"Y--yeah, I guess. I mean. I'm trying not to be that guy anymore, and Robin's really helped--"

"Shit, man, I'm sorry. That's not what I meant, at all--"

"--I feel terrible about all that shit I pulled back in school. That King Steve stuff? I was awful and you didn't deserve--"

"Steve!" Eddie cuts him off. "I forgive you. For everything." He looks down at his shoes. "For all I didn't want to believe it, you really have changed."

They're both pink faced now, avoiding each other's eyes. "Thanks," Steve says. "I should get going, but--for the future-- I really wouldn't mind--um--trying to be friends."

The grin that passes across Eddie's face is huge. "Yeah, Harrington, I'd like that."

Eddie has to run to make it to his classroom on time. He passes Dustin and Will and the rest of their gaggle of friends, rushing them along, but forgets all about it as he steps in front of his third period juniors.

---

He and Steve are...friendly now. They chat, they joke, they share smiles that have Eddie's heart beating too fast even though it's not like that. Turns out Steve is kind and funny (a little bit of a bitch too, but in a way that ties Eddie's stomach in knots), and a hell of a teacher.

---

His freshman are in small groups, peer-reviewing an essays, when Max Mayfield catches his eye. She's one of his favorite students and absolute trouble.

"What's up, Mayfield." He asks.

"Are you friends with Mr. Harrington?" She asks.

He chuckles. "Sure, Max, we're friendly enough. Why?"

She narrows her eyes, like she knows he's not being totally honest. "Oh, nothing. He just talks about you all the time."

He's blushing horribly and Max, and all of her friends, smirk up at him. "He does?" He chokes out.

"Mmhmm," Lucas Sinclair says. "Says he thinks you're really cool."

"Definitely one of the best teachers here," Mike Wheeler adds.

Eddie rolls his eyes. "Okay, very funny, guys. How're your essays going?"

They answer, but before Eddie goes to help another group, Will says, "he really does like you, Mr. Munson. A lot."

El nods earnestly up at him. "It is true," she says. "I know him."

"Thanks, kids. I'll keep that in mind." He gives them a smile, tries not to let their words get to him. When he reaches the next group, though, he notices his hands are shaking.

---

Gifts start turning up in Eddie's cubby. It starts with a bag of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies from his favorite bakery. There's a small note that says "from your secret admirer," on the packaging. Every two weeks or so, something new shows up in his little mailbox; a woven friendship bracelet, a yellow rose, Hershey kisses, a delicately painted dnd figure that gives Eddie a small crisis because it's his own bard character, an Iron Maiden cassette, a bag of dice that almost brings him to genuine tears.

Eventually, he gets another note. This one is typed and reads: "I would love to have coffee with you 11am this Saturday at the Cafe on Main Street."

---

He walks into the cafe at 10:50am, wearing his favorite pair of ripped black jeans and a burgundy button-down, his hair pulled into a loose bun. He doesn't recognize anyone there.

Eddie gets in line, studies the menu, and the little bell above the door rings. He whips towards the sound to find none other than Steve Harrington in little wire rim glasses, a butter colored sweater, and jeans the man must have painted on, Jesus Christ. Honestly, the whole thing is enough to give Eddie a coronary (and to, embarrassingly, chub up in his own tight jeans).

"Steve?" He asks. He's overwhelmed with the (stupid, stupid) hope that it's been Harrington all along. "What are you doing here?"

"Henderson asked me to meet him. He around?"

"Uh, no?" Eddie feels heat creeping up his throat.

Steve shakes his head, as though he expected as much. "You alone? We could grab drink."

"I can't believe this." Eddie hides his face in his hands, knows it's gone horrifyingly crimson.

"What's wrong?"

"My secret admirer told me to be here now, so we could meet," Eddie's misery slices through his words. "I'm such an idiot."

"I--your--what?" Steve stammers.

He gathers himself enough to look Steve in his hazel eyes and ask, "I'm assuming it wasn't you leaving notes and gifts for me at work?"

And he expects Steve to say no. To laugh and ask why he'd ever do something like that, but instead, instead he flushes a deep red. "O-only one note."

"What?"

"I, uh," Steve clears his throat. "I left you a note. On Valentine's Day. I--we weren't friends yet, and I wanted you to know how much I liked you. It's --uh--it's pretty silly, huh? Robin's--"

"Steve," Eddie interrupts. He's going to tell Steve that he reads the note often enough that he has parts memorized; that it's the kindest thing anyone has done for him, but what he says instead is, "Dustin Henderson told you to meet him here at 11?"

"Yeah. Said he had something to show me."

Eddie remembers running into Will and Dustin and their friends that day in the hall, the weird conversation in class, the dice and the miniature. Something must click for Steve at the same time because his mouth drops, blush getting somehow deeper.

"Oh my god. Henderson! I'm gonna kill him. They figured out I had a crush on you."

"They WHAT?" Eddie says, loud enough that several looks are aimed their way.

"I'm so, so sorry, Eddie. Holy shit, this is so humiliating. You have to believe me, I had no idea they were doing this. God, I'm really starting to think it is possible to die from embarrassment."

"You have a crush on me," Eddie says instead of any of the dozens of helpful things he could say.

"Um. Yes?"

Eddie takes a deep breath, straightens his spine, and asks, "You wanna have coffee with me?"

"I'd really like that." Steve's return smile is so beautiful, it makes Eddie weak.

---

Eddie Munson is making out with Steve Harrington in the backseat of Steve's BMW. He and Steve spent the day together. They've kissed for so long that the sun has set, both of their lips are swollen, their skin red from stubble, and Eddie is nowhere near ready for the night to end.

Steve breaks away, gently pulling their mouths apart, but arms still tight around Eddie. "Hey, what kind of gifts were they giving you anyway? The kids?"

"Oh," Eddie blushes. "Uh, cookies, a dnd mini, lots of candy, a set of dice."

"Oh my god," Steve says, he pulls a little more away. "Oh my god, I'm going to kill her, Jesus Christ."

"Who are are you killing, sweetheart?"

Steve groans. "Robin. She was helping them. We found a set of dice at this little bookstore and she told me to get them for you, and--" he breaks off with a helpless, frustrated noise.

Eddie doesn't mean to, but he starts to giggle.

"It's not funny!" Steve says.

That only makes Eddie laugh harder. "Your best friend," he squeaks. "And a group of literal children set us up. That's hilarious, Harrington."

Steve's mouth drops and for a second Eddie thinks he'll be upset, but then he's giggling too, his whole face crumpling into it.

Steve pulls Eddie close once the laughter subsides, his eyes trained on Eddie's lips.

"We could pretend we didn't get together," Eddie manages to say.

"What, like, make them think they failed?"

"Yeah. We could tell them I got stood up, but you and I hung out. Had a bro day."

Steve giggles again, and it's the best sound Eddie's ever heard. "I'm absolutely on board with this plan, but you should definitely kiss me some more."

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, his voice low. "And what'll I get out of it?"

"Why don't you get over here and see."

As if Eddie could turn down an invite that enticing. He slides a hand behind Steve's head, drawing him in, and they're kissing like they never stopped. It only been a few hours, but Eddie knows--without a doubt--he's already head over heels.

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #ficlet #oneshot #fluff #mutual pining #matchmaking #secret admirers #pe teacher steve harrington #english teacher eddie munson #kinda doing a parent trap thing #in which robin and the party parent trap eddie and steve #it's also the part of clueless where they do matchmaking with the teachers #first date #the party #robin buckley #platonic soulmates #rough winds do shake the darling buds of may but thy eternal summer shall not fade #phat did you write that

[rougepancake]

Swim

Rohan Kishibe x F!Reader

Warnings: Hate fucking, pent up sexual tension, Rohan being a dick (what’s new), professional to sexual relationship, masturbation, fingering, mentions of prostitution. Minimal plot. Sexually explicit content under cut. Minors and ageless blogs dni. Not proofread.

Summary: Rohan fucks his annoying editor :]

“What the hell are you doing?” You looked over your shoulder at him as you walked out of the shower.

The two of you were stuck together in a fancy hotel suite for the weekend, due to a convention that Rohan’s manager booked.

And as his editor, you were obligated to go.

“I need a nude model.” He stuck up his thumb, using it to cover where your towel rested on your body. He then quickly got to sketching.

“It’s not going to be me.” You scoffed, crossing your arms stubbornly and walking out of the bathroom. To your dismay, he followed you.

“Well who else is it going to be, hm?” He looked up from his sketch pad briefly to observe your body. “Now take off the towel.”

“No.”

“I guess I’m just going to have to estimate about the proportions.” Rohan sighed dramatically and sat across the room, crossing his legs and resuming his sketch. “Could you at least sit on the bed?”

“Fine.” You huffed and sat on the corner of the bed, sweeping your legs to the side to keep the towel from revealing too much of your body.

“In the middle.” He commanded without hesitation, using his pencil to gesture to where he wanted you positioned. “Don’t make me come over there and do it myself.”

“You’d like that.”

He rolled his eyes and set down his sketchbook, offering you a scowl as you centered yourself on the bed. Without a word, he grabbed his things and walked over to where you sat, sitting at the edge so he could have a better view.

“Spread your legs.” He tapped your knee with his pencil, shooting you another glare. If he was so annoyed then why didn’t he just do it himself?! You rolled your eyes and pulled the towel tighter, looking away from him.

“I’m not your model. Don’t talk to me like one.” You scoffed and crossed your arms. “I’m paid to edit your work, not inspire it.”

“How much?”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me the first time.” Rohan’s hand moved to his pocket, digging for his wallet while looking you in the eyes. “I can’t believe I’m about to pay my editor to be the filthy slut she is.” He pulled out some cash and tossed it at you, grumbling to himself as he did so. “Ditch the towel too. Nude models are better nude in all their glory.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, looking at you expectantly.

“Oh?” You smirked and chuckled to yourself, repositioning yourself so you could slide the towel away. “I’m not one of your models. But…” You tossed the towel to the side and leaned back, one of your hands by your head and the other by your waist.

It was the hottest thing Rohan’s ever seen.

And out of all his dealings with nude models, he’s never been flustered by one before.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like what you see?” You taunted, relaxing into the bed. Rohan scoffed and began to sketch you, his eyes tracing every detail of your body, memorizing the way the bed formed beneath your weight, the way the light reflected off your skin.

Everything.

He was not going to let this pass, because, rumor has it, you’re actually pretty damn hot.

“Actually…” He set his sketchbook to the side and moved closer to you, extending his arm and placing a surprisingly gentle hand on your knee. “Let me position you.”

“Hell no.” You slapped his hand away, but it only came back, now resting on your thigh. “This is all you’re getting.”

“Well…” He let out an annoyed sigh and crawled on top of you, his lips twitching upward as he refrained from smirking. “I do believe that it’s best for your expression to be authentic, rather than me having to imagine it.”

“Oh so you wanna touch your editor?”

“Well I figured you could touch yourself.” His hand slid further, making its way to your hip. “And if you’re wanting me to pay you, then money isn’t much of a problem.” His voice dropped to a whisper, low and seductive. You could feel his breathing grow heavier, and if you had put your hand on his chest, then you would have felt how it slowly began to race.

Rohan Kishibe hated you.

But he’d love to see you cry out his name.

Slowly, he crawled back to the end of the bed and resumed sketching. “Hop to it.” He was doing his best to sound uninterested, but he couldn’t help the smirk that had found its way to his lips. He was going to enjoy this.

You groaned and spread your legs wide, closing your eyes as you slid your hand down towards your core.

It was embarrassing enough to have him watching you like this, but hey, he paid you a good amount.

And you’re all about the hustle.

Your fingers collected your own slick, slowly pushing past your lips in a way that made caused Rohan to groan.

“Oh so you like this?” You teased as you continued to finger yourself, soft gasps leaving your lips and slowly filling the room.

“No.” He lied, slowly crawling back to you and pulling your fingers from your cunt. You huffed and shot him a glare, only to roll your head back as he replaced them with his own. “But you seem to be.”

Your moans only increased in volume as his fingers continued to pound into you relentlessly. He had you seeing stars- so many stars that you were able to count them as you began to lose yourself in the pleasure.

“H-Ha- I knew you thought I was h-hot.” You panted, whining softly as he pulled his fingers out of you sharply. Without another word, he grabbed you and flipped you over, shoving your face into your pillows. He had one hand on your neck, the other resting on your waist as he admired the sight of your body against his.

He quickly shed himself of his clothing, tossing the articles aside so he could press his chest against your back.

The feeling of your skin against his was simply too much for him to bear.

Which left him pressing the head of his cock against your entrance, slowly pushing past your lips and groaning loudly at how tight you were.

He hated it. He hated how you were so annoying, but you were so good like this. He hated how you moaned out his name shamelessly as he pounded into you.

He absolutely hated it.

However- he did rather like the way you felt around him.

So it wasn’t all bad.

#jojo’s bizarre adventure #x reader #jjba x reader #jjba x you #jjba smut #rohan kishibe #rohan kishibe smut #rohan kishibe x reader #kishibe rohan #jojo part 4 #jojo’s bizzare adventure x reader #jojo smut #rohan x you #thus spoke kishibe rohan #jojos bizzare adventure x reader

[highabovethecloudssomewhere]

tips/resources that taught me how to Art as an Adult - a masterlist

Four years ago I decided that “I’m too old to learn how to draw” is a pointless lie I’d believed for too long and you’re never too old to learn something new. I still definitely consider myself a novice and a learner but I’m at a very happy place with my art and I’m having a ton of fun so I thought I’d pass along the tips/resources that helped me get started and kept me motivated. 

I’ll get into resources under the cut, but here are personal tips I lined up for myself that helped during the early stages of frustration and wanting to give up. obviously they won’t work for everyone, but they really kept me going

fill 14 sketchbooks. if you still want to give up after that you can (I’m currently at 13 sketchbooks and could not imagine ever letting it go)

what specifically do you want to be able to draw? For me my goal has always been characters and cats. I’ve added things to it here and there, but starting out overwhelmed with how much you don’t know isn’t great. find a handful of things you really want to draw and see where it takes you.

get yourself a sketchbook fancy enough that you feel cool as heck but cheap enough that you don’t mind absolutely destroying it. Personally, I love EXCEED bullet journals. the dotted paper keeps me from being too picky but are less intrusive than lined paper. From my experience, EXCEED bullet journals takes acrylic and ink like a champ, and they’ve got nice covers that just make you “feel” cool. confidence is important!

acrylic paint and post-it notes are great ways to cover mistakes. I personally love anything that makes my sketchbooks feel “sketchbooky” so this is super fun. 

it is okay to “waste”/”ruin” pages. one time I was in “I’m a failure” artblock and so I poured black coffee onto my sketchbook. (it was gonna get dumped out anyway and I was Very frustrated with my art.) then when the pages dried I just kept right along using it. taught me a lot about not being perfect. sketchbooks are about learning and love, not about perfection.

try drawing in pen. seriously, draw in pen. it’s scary as frick to not be able to go back on mistakes but that’s what the post-it acrylic-paint tip is for, and it’ll help with all sorts of stuff like lineweight and line confidence. it takes some of the stress off too because, you screw up? oh well! Try again! it encourages “try again” over “meticulously nitpick until it’s perfect” and has done wonders for me. I started out my first two sketchbooks in pencil before making the switch and I’ve never gone back. 

(also sketching in highlighter and lining with pen is super fun and cool and satisfying!)

the first page doesn’t matter. I usually just use the first page of the sketchbook to write my favorite songs at the time and then do the same thing on the last page. first page jitters begone. 

(starting in the middle of the sketchbook also gets rid of those jitters pretty nicely. I tried this a couple times and personally still prefer the linear front-to-back but it was fun for a while.)

picking a color theme for your sketchbook can make it feel more “sketchbooky” too. I usually go with blue or orange- blue acrylic paint, blue post-it notes, those cheap blue BIC pens, etc. I like this bc it makes the sketchbook feel like a sketchbook and is very satisfying.

And figure out why you’re doing it. I did it because I always wanted to make cool art and draw my characters, but if you’re doing it for a career then obviously the path to that looks much different. Don’t compare yourself to others. Be inspired by people who are better than you. Acknowledge where you need to grow and where you’re strongest. Lean into those strengths. Adapt to those weaknesses. Be proud of being a beginner- you won’t be one for long. 

Now: some of my favorite creatives and resources!

///

CREATORS:

"Kasey Golden" Mostly traditional art, mostly watercolor, cartoonist, art challenges

"DrawingWiffWaffles" Mostly traditional art, alcohol markers & pens, semi-realism

"LavenderTowne" Digital art, art tips/tutorials, cartoonist

"ABD Illustrates" Digital art, speedpaints, semi-realism

"Proko" (or "Stan Prokopenko") Realism, anatomy tutorials, free complete "Anatomy For Artists" series- basically as hogwild as you can get learning hyper-realistic anatomy

"Ethan Becker" Digital art, ex-DreamWorks employee, tips/tutorials, "Perfect Practice"

"Sinix Design" Digital art, anatomy tips/tutorials, general tips/tutorials, realist

"Oliver's Antics" Digital and traditional art, tips/tutorials, speedpaints, semi-realistic style

“Nerdforge” Traditional art, painting, metalwork, woodwork, bookbinding, building, seriously these people do everything they’re incredible

///

FOR GESTURE DRAWING:

Line of Action Gesture drawing, figure drawing, optional timed practice sessions

AdorkaStock fantastic line of unique reference poses

 ///

Aaand that’s about all I’ve got! there are so many resources out there and so many amazing artists to be inspired by. just have fun with art! art is freedom. be proud to be a beginner and be excited for how you’ll grow. I hope these tips are helpful for someone out there! <3 

Here’s my first digital artwork (April 2019) up against my latest (August 2022)

April 2019:

August 2022:

best of luck to you all. I believe in each and every one of you. <3 happy drawing!

#art #resources #cloud rambles #masterlist #obviously this isn't TOTALLY comprehensive #but I've been talking to a lot of friends lately who preemptively give up on art bc they're 'too old' #and I just felt like making this #i believe in all of us

[april-showersmay-flowers]

hello! I'm someone who has become incredibly obsessed with Greenteacup's Lionheart, and necessarily, your beautiful artwork as well. i'm so impressed by your artistic abilities -- how do you make the art that you do? what do you use to make your art? any tips for a beginner artist? I don't know how to make digital art but i have an old watercolor set you've inspired me to take advantage of... thank you so much!

Hi!

First of all, that is so incredibly sweet. I’m glad I can be a part of the fandom circle of life where art inspires art inspires art and so on.

In response to your question, if you’ll pardon the trite answer but it’s all just practice. I’ve been drawing and doodling since I was about 6 or 7, and I’m in my 30s now. Over that amount of time you just naturally start to amass some skills, plus I’ve got a fine arts degree so I’ve had some actual specific training. (On traditional art, not digital. Procreate scares me.) I’ve only been doing digital art for about the past year or so, before that I was strictly a pen and paper sort of girl. I try to do at least one new thing each time I break out the ol’ iPad so I’m continuously learning.

That said, here are some thoughts I have about starting out on your Art Journey ™

If you’re just starting it’s always easier to work from a base instead of just your imagination. Translating what’s in your head to paper is HARD, and unless you’re somehow a magical wizard it’ll get more frustrating than it’s worth. Find a picture, go outside and look around, go to a museum and just do your best to notice shapes/ shadows / details. Trace the broad strokes if you have to (provided it’s not someone else’s work of course) I’ll stitch references together in a creepy collage sometimes before I get a pose I like (a hand from here, a fabric lay from there) - transfer paper is your friend. I’d also recommend starting to learn about shadow and shapes from inanimate objects rather than human figures, they’re less complex.

Find a medium that you like that doesn’t frustrate you. You could not pay me to work in pastels. Watercolors are HARD to work with, just based on personal experience so if you’re just starting and you want your art to look specific and detailed, watercolors are hard to control. Start with a pencil or a pen and go from there, then start adding in colors second. Me personally, I love a good fine tip pen, calligraphy pen, and the digital airbrush tools. If you want to do watercolors, masking fluid is a super valuable tool!

After you doodle a little bit, you’ll start to notice things that come easier to you and things that are harder. I personally loooove organic lines which is why I draw hair so often and I hate straight lines which is why I rarely draw backgrounds. Lean into what you’re good at!

Rather than trying to get a solid perfect line and/or erasing over and over again, do a lot of smaller lines and keep it sketchy, I find it’s a lot easier to control shapes that way. If I’m drawing a circle, I do it in 15-20 tiny strokes rather than all in one fell swoop.

This is just me personally, but I like to work dark to light - so for example, if I’m drawing Hermiones hair, I’ll start with a dark brown then add in the highlights after. However - that’s only useful in certain mediums (digital) so if you’re working with pencil or paint, reverse it.

I literally used to try and recreate old Disney concept art from the hand drawn movies as practice. That’s a great study in line thickness and movement. Jin Kim and Glen Kane are my faves.

You’ll have more drafts than finished copies. I have so so so many old sketchbooks and abandoned drawings that just didn’t hit the way I wanted them to. That’s okay!!

So, tools. I use my iPad and Apple Pencil and I honestly only work in the sketchbook app. I will move to procreate eventually buuuut no rush. For traditional art, any pencil and paper will do but if you want to get fancy, get a basic drawing kit with different hardness of pencils, a kneadable eraser, cold pressed paper, and a blending tool. If you’re working with watercolor, there’s special paper that’s made for watercolor and printer paper will absorb a lot of the water and warp a bit. (Again, that’s okay! Just something to be aware of) if you’re working with water based paint, painters tape and masking fluid have saved my butt many a time in the past.

Okay wow that was a very long winded answer thank you if you made it to the end of this absolute novel.

Have fun, enjoy the process and don’t get discouraged along the way. Art doesn’t have to be “good” to be important.

#aprilshowersasks #sketch #drawing class is in session #the flashbacks this gave me to undergrad were sudden and vivid

[cathrynworrell]

The only 2 things you need to make art

I loved art and design at school but it took me a while to find my way back to making drawings and paintings.

I studied a very academic subject at university and took a brief detour into teaching, but being diagnosed with a chronic illness led me to rediscover how much I enjoyed being creative.

During the early days of being ill, whenever I had a pocket of energy I would find some comfort in doing some simple sewing or crafting handmade greeting cards.

Every so often I would pick up a pencil and have a go at drawing something but it had been so long since I’d done that, that my drawings were inevitably imperfect. So I would lose patience (and energy) and give up.

Thanks to Danny Gregory’s Book The Creative License I started to draw with a pen for the first time and sank into the process of drawing which felt meditative.

During a conversation with some fellow artists where we were discussing our favourite and newly discovered art materials, I sparked a momentary silence by declaring, “In the end, all you need is a pen and some paper” which nicely sums up what I want to share today.

Sometimes it’s easier to get on with making art if you keep your tools really simple. And the simplest way to make art is with just 2 tools:

1. A pen

Nothing fancy, just choose a pen. That ballpoint pen sitting on the coffee table will work just fine. Don’t put extra pressure on yourself to use or find the ‘perfect’ pen. Doing that’s a really good way to procrastinate and avoid making a start on a drawing.

Just find the nearest pen and use that. Once you’re in the swing of making drawings regularly, consider rewarding yourself with something a bit more fancy, but don’t let the sparkle of shiny new art materials become a barrier to making art.

And yes, I know, it can feel really scary to dive straight into a drawing with a pen. There’s nowhere to hide and no possibility of erasing your lines. But if you embrace the slight wonkiness and imperfections you might start to realise they’re nothing to be afraid of. Accept that a line might not be at the perfect angle and redraw it or just go with it, it doesn’t really matter.

But observing, really looking at what you’re drawing and transferring what you see onto paper with your own marks might start to become something you can truly lose yourself in. Maybe you’ll begin to enjoy the process so much that the outcome of your drawing is secondary to the experience.

And yes, when you first start out you might still feel disappointed or frustrated with the results. But if you haven’t drawn in years, or since you were a child maybe, then your ‘drawing muscle’ is going to take a bit of time to get into shape.

In the meantime, though, be brave, dive in with a (any) pen, observe your surroundings and make some marks.

2. Some paper

Again, don’t overthink this. Have you got a printer? Take a piece of paper from there. Sticky note? That’ll do.

The most memorable drawing I ever did wasn’t fancy, wasn’t my best drawing, but it’s stayed with me. It was drawn on a piece of printer paper with a pen that was just lying around the house.

Maybe at some point, you’ll want to explore all the different kinds of papers and find a sketchbook that feels good to use. But make things as easy as possible to get moving. It’s the equivalent of going for regular walks or runs before you sign up for an expensive gym membership.

You might even have a notebook sitting around somewhere so once you’ve used a few pieces of printer paper or sticky notes, why not see if you can fill all the pages in that notebook?

Just don’t overcomplicate things. Don’t make excuses like “I’ll just go to the art supply shop at the weekend and then I’ll start drawing.”

Embrace the wonky, shaky, wobbly lines. When you look back at those drawings you’ll remember what it felt like to make those marks. Each one tells a story.

In the end, all you need is a pen and some paper. And the best pen and the best paper are those that you have right now. Making art isn’t about having the perfect tools, it starts with making beautiful, imperfect marks with simple materials. Give it a go. What’s the worst that can happen?

#drawing #art supplies #art materials #paper #pen #how to

[maddestmewmew]

hi ok so im bored so heres Whats In My Bag (i dropped out of school and have had to run away in fear of my life several times edition)

so this is my bag!!

its a fancy vintage messenger bag that costs like 150, if you make an emergency bag i do NOT recommend buying an expensive one. i got this in 4th grade from my moms best friend bc we couldnt afford a normal backpack. the next year we could, and this stayed in the back of my closet collecting dust until i went through some trauma and realized i could use this in case of emergencies. i go through the bag every few months to make sure everything is up to date.

it has plenty of pockets, including a few secret ones i keep the important stuff in. i also decorated the shit out of it because i hate the way the bag looks on its own. that black patch came from me burning off part of the bag and having to sew a ripped tshirt onto it.

this is what i keep on the outside pockets!

empty water bottle

spare charging block

backup portable charger

hand sanitizer

flashlight

not much to say about all this, except that all of this was stolen from my dad except the water bottle.

the base inside of the bag!

spare sketchpad + colored pencils

travel kit (includes gloves, socks, toothpaste, toothbrush, mouthwash, lotion, and deodorant.)

sewing kit (this comes in handy more than you think, i actually have 2, one for in the bag and one out. i keep them both stocked with thread from the dollar store.)

spare glasses (its more expensive but i always get 2 pairs of glasses when i need new ones, just in case. again, this has helped me more than youd think.)

first aid kit

getting travel versions of everything REALLY helps save space while also being useful! getting a travel hygiene kit has saved my ASS before, so id 100% recommend it even if it doesnt seem necessary. most of these are gifts, except the glasses (my mom payed for them, im only 16) and the sewing kit. (i bought it with my own money.) the first aid kit has (unfortunately) saved my father from a few hosptial trips. The sketchbook isnt essential, just to keep me specifically calm.

heres what i keep in the inside pockets!

pocket knife

mini lighter

mini measuring tape

granola + cereal bars

literally everything here is stolen except for the knife, which was gifted to me by my grandfather, who got it from His grandfather. The knife stays in a secret pocket usually, but any time i actually use the bag for emergency reasons i keep it in my pocket. this has genuinely saved my life before.

i dont have a picture for this but heres what i keep outside of the bag but still nearby so i can put it In the bag as fast as possible!

laptop

keys

extra jacket

wallet (holding some spare cash and my id at ALL times)

noise cancelling headphones

chew necklace

pen bag (this ones in the same vibe as the sketchbook. not Necessary, just for comfort.)

i keep my phone on me At All Times. i HAVE checked, there Is space for everything above.

thats all! thanks for reading :3

[johnconstantinesdick]

If you could redesign any of the rwby costumes which would you change and in what ways? Also what's your favorite rwby weapon (I love cinders short sword bow thing I'm actually making it rn!)?

Oh man you sent this right before I went to bed so I’m sorry that this took a while, but!! This is such a fun question!

Short, funny answer that is nonetheless 100% serious: put Qrow in one of those corset-vests.

Long, also serious answer:

Honestly, while I have a handful of criticisms for the earlier designs, the really great part about those criticisms is that they’re usually all addressed (hah) by the next design for the character. Like, OG Ruby was a bit plain and boring on the top, and then Volume 4 Ruby adds a lot more visual interest at the top for a really cute and balanced design. I think that RWBY has done a pretty good job in general with having their designs actually be craftable, too, which is Very high praise. Like, I think they actually looked at more than one real item of clothing.

The 3d models have their ups and downs when it comes to conveying designs; the sleeve seams on Yang’s V5-6 jacket, for instance, are just. Weird. But the 3d model means that, generally, it’s easier to tell how clothing items actually Work. They’re Consistent, and there are actual visible seam lines. Ones that Make Sense, generally.

I’m usually pretty happy with the designs. However, the ones I’ve seen for V7 (haven’t actually watched it yet lmao), are... idk I’m not super happy with them?

I actually wrote a rambling complaint about some of the designs last night at like 5/6 in the morning, but in doing so I pretty much spitballed a redesign for Weiss, so I’m just gonna focus on her!

Here’s the ramble on Weiss, by the way, if you wanna read that before you see what I came up with!

Now, Weiss and Nora share the problem of there being Too Much going on. I think Nora’s could have worked better if the blue and pink were more pastel, but in general her design just. Doesn’t feel like her. Same with Weiss. They both honestly feel more like Blake designs to me.

Weiss, in addition to it Not Feeling Like her, has way too many things going on there. I would get rid of the belts and pouches on the middle. Make the skirt one solid thing, instead of the asymmetrical white thing going on. Gather the top of the dress in the same way as the boots. Add buttons to the boots like on the skirt. Or make the blue coat on top a full flaring coat, with a simplified dress underneath. Ditch the gloves, she looks like Cinder. Also, FUCK THAT HAIR. THE BRAID LOOKS CLUNKY AND BAD IN 3D!!! Give her a haircut if you want a change! Or have her wear her hair loose as a visual cue that she is free even though she’s back in the city her father tried to trap her in!!

Now, almost twelve hours later, I looked at that and went, “Yeah, 5am me was right.”

And drew this rough redesign:

[ID: A pencil drawing of Weiss Schnee from RWBY. She is a teenager with light hair, a serious expression, and a thin scar over her left eye. She is posed to show off the design, with one arm held down behind her skirt and the other held out to show off the sleeve. Her hair is loose and hangs down her back to her waist, save for a braid that circles her head like a crown. Diamond-shaped earrings dangle from her ears. She wears a dress coat with leg-o-mutton sleeves and a high neck. The coat fastens asymmetrically over her collarbones, with the right side fastened to the left side with a pin that looks like the hair comb/crown she previously wore. The coat is designed to reveal most of her outfit underneath, and is cinched in at the waist with a belt, before it flares out dramatically. A single bead on a decorative tie hangs from each edge of the bottom front of the coat, and she wears short gloves with a line of buttons, visible only on the hand she has held to the side. Weiss wears an asymmetric vest underneath the coat. It closes at an angle to the right with a line of buttons, and point in a V shape at the bottom front, the edge just below her hips. Underneath the vest she wears a dress. It is gathered in small pleats at the top, and the pleats continue into the skirt past where they are hidden by the vest. The skirt goes down to her ankles, and the pleated section is hidden partly by an overskirt. She wears a pair of Edwardian walking boots split into two sections. The section on the top curves out to just before her toes, and is fastened with buttons on the outsides. Her right foot is tilted out to show the heel. In the top left of the sketchbook there is another illustration of the boots where the tops are not hidden by the skirt. They go up to about mid-calf. In the top right of the sketchbook is a view of the back of Weiss’s coat, showing that her snowflake design is printed on the top back. The belt goes across the waist and is held in place by two belt loops. At the back waist, a pleat flares out to the bottom of the coat. End ID]

Boy oh boy, I may be biased, but I like this design better. In the original design, the belts and pouches were the most visually ugly for me, but I also wasn’t happy with the sheer amount of components going on, and I Did Not like the boots. So I simplified some things (the asymmetrical skirt), added more unifying elements (the pleats on the top and the skirt, the buttons on the vest, the boots, and the gloves), and overall made her hair less ugly. I also didn’t like how they had components that looked like two different coats, so I simplified that into one big coat. In general I think it makes for a design that’s a bit easier to look at, but that’s just my opinion. I think Volume 7 Nora and Yang would be other designs I would like to change around a lot, and I would change Jaune’s around a little.

I have... a lot of opinions about character design, apparently?

Yeah. Anyway, as for weapons, I’d have to say Emerald’s are my favorite. I just love how they look and function, especially the chain part. I think it’s a really clever design. The weapons are always going to be the place where RWBY shines, but I’m still always caught off-guard by how inventive the designs can get. Also, I can’t wait to see how you do Cinder’s bow! Props are Not My Area so whenever I see them I’m blown away, and Cinder’s weapon is such a neat design to do.

#image description #rwby #rwby volume 7 #weiss schnee #rwby redesign #eli rambles #sewing shit with eli #this counts i think #ask #i just got a new sketchbook and Fancy Pencils and this was my first time drawing with them #i still think there might be too much going on but at least its a bit better imo

[shirecorn]

how about 17 and 24? what inspires you and how do you deal with art block?

Long post warning.

Art block...

I don't actually get art block, which is probably a combination of neurodivergence and drawing every day for the last 3 years

I wrote an entire tutorial about how to do that, but didn't feel like illustrating it. Would people want to read it even without visuals?

Maybe... I'll just start rambling.

There's a couple different types of art block, and it's really just a philosophy puzzle to get past them. I'm going to assume that the things I think of slow days, or art mud, is a milder form of art block and work through that.

Art block is a symptom, not a disease. You probably have something deep inside that you don't want to face, or don't know how. Sometimes you need to discover the cause, sometimes just power through.

Method 1: Rest

Let yourself just Exist. The act of consuming art is part of the process. Watching shows and playing games, taking a break and going gardening or focus on school. This is what you need for burnout-induced art block.

Method 2: Action

I always choose action, sometimes it means a tiny 2 min sketch per day. Ugly or super simplified. As long as I don't stop moving.

Toss everything. Start every piece thinking you will throw it away.

The act of drawing moves you forward; pinning it to the fridge does not. Don't work things until they are perfect. Work them until they are there.

Art block causes and solutions:

- No Inspiration

Not sure what to draw, nothing seems appealing. Art won't come out like it used to.

Do studies from life or photos. Sketch, paint, digital, traditional, doesn't matter. Rocks, fruit, figure drawing, landscapes, buildings, anything.

Study and copy professional's work. Old masters are best, like rubens, michalangelo (only his men tho) etc because they will teach you anatomy while you work. If you copy someone with a lot of flaws, you will repeat those flaws.

Trace to learn, not to earn. Trace photography and art from anyone you want. Don't post it unless you have the artist's permission or they are dead, whichever comes first. This is strictly work for yourself, on yourself. It's not about the finished drawing.

Find an artist with a fun style and try converting stuff into their style. Don't make that your new style though and especially don't start selling it. Your style is a chimera of everyone you love, not a clone of one person.

Take blurry photos. You don't need a fancy camera or good skills or beautiful subjects. Doing studies from your own photos can spark life into your workflow.

Make challenges for yourself. Randomly generate things to combine. Try fusing characters! Don't try to make it look good, just be fun.

Doodle patterns, swirls, lines, random stuff. Try looking up art warmups and doing some of those.

- Everything Sucks

You finally see how bad you are. Or somehow you got worse. Every piece is a fight and you spend hours trying to get something right only for it to be stiff and disgusting and STILL wrong.

Why are you trying to draw good? It's enough just to draw.

Accept that your art is bad. Every artist can see flaws in their work. Your problem is that those flaws outweigh anything remotely worthwhile and hurt to look at.

So what? You're in a period of growth, not a period of production. Keep that wonky second eye. Let them have hot dog fingers.

Show everyone! Show no one! No piece of art can ever be a reflection of the artist. Not their worth, not their skill. The only thing your art says about you is "Held and moved a pen for a bit."

Make bad art. It's ok. Most of the time, the pressure to perform and get things Right is what made them wrong in the first place. Relax.

- No Motivation

The #1 killer of artists everywhere. On some level you think you should draw, on every other level you think you should stay in bed.

You are not lazy. You wouldn't have read this far in a post about art block if you were lazy. You wouldn't CALL it art block if you were lazy. Laziness is wishing you didn't have to do anything. A block is wishing you were doing something. If you think you can namecall Yourself into productivity again, you're wrong and You need to unionize so that you don't treat You like that anymore.

Consider Mental Illness. Losing interest in something that brought you joy can be a symptom of depression. I know it seems obvious, but if you're waiting for a sign that it's "bad enough," it's bad enough. Seek care if you have the means. Forgive yourself if you already know this.

Selfcare. Examine yourself for neglect. Nutrition, exercise, enrichment, social need, and sleep are all part of the art process. Eat three meals and sleep 8 hours. That's your gaymer fuel. You deserve it, I promise. Depriving yourself of your needs will make your blocks worse, not kick you into making them better.

Identify potholes. Sketchbook falling apart? Tablet cord frayed? Half your pencils missing? Chair uncomfortable? Desk hard to reach? There's a lot of things that you tell yourself to work around and get over. Just because you CAN workaround something, doesn't mean you SHOULD. A difficult work environment can cause secret dread deep inside that you don't recognize and just think you're lazy. What you think of as "no motivation" might actually be "I don't want to deal with my tablet disconnecting every time I move it wrong and I have to wiggle it for a few seconds to make it work again." These little things are like potholes in the road. Sure you CAN still drive through them, but eventually you're going to look up and realize you haven't voluntarily left the house in weeks.

Repair potholes and roadblocks. You might feel bad about buying a new pencil, headphones, tablet, car, etc because technically the old one works if you hustle. But if you're running into so many potholes you've ground to a halt, it doesn't Actually work anymore, does it? Invest, save up, request, and require working equipment and suitable conditions. This stuff isn't just cushy privilege, it's an investment in yourself and your art. You are worth the effort it takes to clear the way. If you can't afford reliable (reliable! not perfect or luxurious) equipment, then say it. If cardboard is all you can afford, draw on cardboard. But know that you deserve canvas, and one day you might be able to make the jump. Acknowledge that sometimes, if you don't have it in you to smear burned twigs on wet cardboard, the problem isn't motivation, but opportunity.

- Haven't Drawn in So Long

A unique type of art block that self perpetuates. The thought of starting again is so stressful you can't do it. Or maybe you'll do it tomorrow. Yeah. Tomorrow for sure.

Face your fears. Are you ashamed of your lack of drawing? Are you anthropomorphizing your paper and thinking it's going to judge you, like "oh NOW you come back >:/" I internalize voices I hear and project them onto other people, concepts, locations, and inanimate objects. Your paper, computer, WIPs folder.... none of that is judging you.

Reframe your WIPs. Do you feel shame when you see "unfinished" projects? Why? Who says you MUST bring everything you start to Finish? You don't have to. A sketch is a finished art piece; it's called a sketch! If a sketch is a fully realized creation, pages that are half colored, 75% lined, or partially rendered are all fully realized creations too. Unless paid otherwise, art is done when you're done working on it.

Lower the stakes. Draw a chibi or grab some crayons. Get messy and slowly ease yourself back into the flow over the course of a couple days. It's fine.

Get a buddy! Find an art meme, do an art trade, get a study subject, or just wing it. Drawing art alongside someone can help you get past that block.

Pretend you never stopped. Don't think about the gap, how long it's been, or rustiness. As far as anyone knows, you drew the mona lisa yesterday and didn't break a sweat. Today, you drew a starfish on your hand with a gel pen. Keep up that streak, good job!

Just keep drawing. Make a goal to do one sucky drawing per day on the back of a napkin. Don't make up for missed days, just pretend they didn't happen. Who's going to judge you? The calendar? That's pieces of paper; it doesn't have an opinion. Draw a cat on it. Done. Keeping up the momentum is a great way to prevent art blocks in the future.

TLDR: Draw imperfectly and toss it. Selfcare is king. Draw often and don't judge yourself.

Art is a process, not a product.

#shire screams #art tips #ask #art block #long post

[spencersawkward]

I love your ff first of all, I'm obsessed and second of all I would ask you a suggestion, idk if maybe is that too much and you're totally free to not do that but you ever thought to do something in the line of the knive kink? I think it will be awesome

i'm so sorry this took so long! big thanks to my guardian angel @voidsfilm for giving me inspiration bc i literally struggled with this one more than i should have. never written a knife kink but i’m glad i tried lol.

summary: reader finds an antique knife that Matthew's kept in a drawer.

content warnings: unprotected penetrative sex, fingering, oral (male receiving), knife play (no blood drawn), Soft!Dom MGG, degradation and praise.

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

if there is one thing I absolutely despise, it's working out. getting sweaty, running until my legs hurt and my lungs are burning for air... not really my thing.

but when Matthew brought up the idea a couple months into our relationship, I couldn't say no to him: he had a goofy smile on his face and the kind of look in his eyes that made me relent and ask what kind of stuff he wanted to do.

I think that I've found the one thing that Matthew can't make fun.

"I'm gonna pass out." I bend over and set my hands on my knees, trying to catch my breath. Matthew slows to a stop a few feet ahead, turning around and making a strained expression.

"oh, come on." but his voice is pretty breathless, too. he gently guides me off the path so that we don't get in the way of the other people out enjoying the day. a couple walks by us with their dog, strolling calmly, and I feel a rush of envy. if our workout routine had consisted of a few pleasant ambles around the city, I would have been totally willing.

"Matthew, I wanna go home." I whine impatiently. the only nice thing about this is that he's got one of those stupid sweatbands on his head to keep his hair out of his face, and it makes him look like a 1980's housewife.

"we can go home in fifteen minutes." he smiles, puts his hands on his hips, stretching in an exaggerated way.

"do you promise?" I brush a piece of hair out of my face.

"promise," he's lucky he looks so cute in his workout outfit. "we can even get one of those fancy juices for you on the way back."

"seriously?" I light up. this might actually be worth it; they have this amazing mango and lime combination that I can't ever manage to recreate with our own blender.

"if you beat me to the rock, then sure." he references the enormous boulder in Central Park that we both gawked at on our first date-- ever since then, it's been the end point for our runs. my lips curl into a grin.

"you're on." I take off, making sure to push him out of the way in order to gain a head start. he lets out something of a protestation but is quick to follow. I can feel his feet pounding behind me, trying to catch up.

I may not be good at running long distances, but I'm sure as hell faster than he is.

...

it's quiet when I step out of the bedroom, drying my hair with the towel and wandering into the living room. Matthew is sitting at the table with his sketchbook, drawing god knows what while he waits for me to finish up.

"what are you up to?" I ask softly as I plop down across from him. my head is slightly tilted while the towel rubs my scalp.

"I'm not really sure." he shrugs, frowning and holding up the notebook from a distance as if that'll help him figure out what to do.

"can I see when you're done?"

"of course," he sets it on the table again, then runs a fingertip across his chin. "actually, can you do me a favor?"

"sure."

"I have a set of colored pencils in the desk over there," he points to an old piece of furniture under the window. "would you mind getting them for me?"

"yep," I reply, getting up and leaving the towel on the table. "least I can do after kicking your ass."

on the walk past him, Matthew grabs my waist and pulls me into him, attacks me with tickles. I squeal and hit his shoulder.

"stop!" I laugh.

"you barely beat me!" he gives a dazzling smile and finally lets me go. I lightly smack him upside the head and head over to the desk, rifling through the drawers for the colored pencils he wanted.

as I push around various art supplies, glue sticks and random paintbrushes that look to be on the brink of falling apart, my fingers pass something cool and metallic. I grab the thing and pull it out.

it's a knife; like, a fancy one with an intricately decorated handle and what seems to be a pretty dulled edge. before he can notice what I've found, I start to move the thing between my hands curiously. there's a nice weight to it, but it's definitely old.

"hey, Matthew?" I ask warily.

"yeah?" so unassuming and sweet.

"why do you have a knife?"

there's a scratching as he gets up from the table to walk over to me. I lean against the desk. Matthew doesn't seem too bothered by what I'm saying at all, only gently taking the weapon out of my hands and examining it himself.

"oh, yeah!" he lets out something like a laugh. I raise an eyebrow and wait for him to continue. "do you remember when we went antiquing in Cape Cod, like, a month ago?"

"yeah." I nod at the memory. he'd been lucky enough to get some vacation days and we'd spent them sitting by the water with glasses of wine and nothing but time to talk. it really was a great trip, now that I think about it.

"I found it there." he still hasn't looked up and I realize that there's something he's not telling me. I don't know what I'm missing, but I start to get nervous.

"...why?"

"I was gonna ask then, but I guess I just forgot." his tongue darts out across his bottom lip as he lifts his face to meet my gaze. my heart thuds when he opens his mouth again. "I kinda wanted to try something."

"like?"

"I've been thinking about maybe using knives... in a sexual way."

"what?" I frown, confused by his wording. Matthew seems to realize that he's phrased it awkwardly and shifts his stance. he keeps glancing between the object and my face like he's worried about scaring me away.

"I don't mean I'm gonna stab you or anything," he laughs. "I just mean I think it sounds fun."

my hand finds his, brushing my palm over the steel to touch it myself again. there's a curiosity that burns through me now, something I'm a little unsure about but not enough so to deny the possibility of trying it.

"what do you wanna do with it?" I peek up at him. he bites his lip. we're speaking in gentle tones and I notice that our bodies have gotten closer within the last few moments. a warmth, a tension.

"like, pressing the blade flat against your skin while I fuck you." he takes the thing and demonstrates. the cool silver rests on my neck, too dull to really threaten a serious cut if he were to move too quickly. a shiver runs down my spine at the sensation of the metal.

I gulp, feel the curve of my throat push against it when I swallow. it's nice.

"oh." is all I say. Matthew is watching me intently, but he doesn't make any motion away from it. like he's entranced by the sight of me with a knife to my throat.

"are you interested?" he asks.

I mull it over. on the one hand, weapon play is something I've never considered in my sex life before. Matthew and I aren't vanilla, but this hasn't crossed my mind. that said, now that I can really feel it, there is a desire forming in my stomach. it would be a strange, new sensation.

"yes." the confirmation makes him smile a little. he lowers the thing and instead wraps me in his arms, kisses me passionately until our tongues are dancing over each other. I love how he holds me, our torsos against each other while my body leans slightly back to accept the weight of his touch.

he goes to my head like alcohol. and it's even more surreal when I feel the blade move under the hem of my shirt to rest against my back. I smile into his mouth. he doesn't do anything with it, just leaves it to remind me.

he starts to rut his hips against my lower stomach, getting aroused at the proximity of our bodies and the heated nature of our kiss. there's an urgency to all of it, like he's holding back. I don't want him to hold back; I want him to give me everything he has, everything beneath the surface.

my fingers twine in his hair and tug on the ends, causing him to groan into our embrace. there's no way we're going to make it all the way to the bedroom with the way he's grabbing at my body, so I stumble backwards towards the couch until the backs of my thighs hit the arm of it.

"you're horny." I giggle slightly when he pushes the hem of my shirt up my body, his nails dragging over my ribcage and trailing the object along with it. I feel the excitement growing.

"I'm just glad you're willing to try this." he murmurs the words, holds our foreheads together before his lips eagerly seek mine out, again. somehow, even with a weapon leveled against me, I can sense the love in every single action. I wouldn't have said yes if I didn't trust him to treat me with the utmost care.

I work at the buttons of his shirt, pushing it over his lovely shoulders and arms as he unclasps my bra. we're fervent, greedy in our movements, trying to kiss despite the attention needed to remove our clothes. mostly we just tangle up in each other until there's nothing left but my shorts for him to shove down my legs. he keeps his pants on.

"c'mon, beautiful." he mutters, pushing my legs open so that I'm sitting on the arm of the couch. he tilts my head and leans closer to suck on my bottom lip, and then starts to massage my tits. I can feel the handle of the weapon against my nipple.

when he reaches to slide his finger between my folds, I hiss out a breath at the cold sensation of his skin.

"is this because of me or the knife, baby?" he asks, corners of his mouth twitching up while I moan into his mouth. he starts to rub my clit with the collected wetness, teasing me too much. I want to fall back, but I can't. I won't let myself.

"both." I find myself turned on by the way the blade sits against my ribs again. the edge is just sharp enough to elicit a reaction from my body.

"feel that?" he angles the thing the slightest bit. I exhale and nod.

that isn't the response he's looking for, however, because he moves it so that it's under my chin. goosebumps on my skin while I pant uselessly against the weapon. I can feel it press harder with every breath out of my lungs, and I love it. I love the risk it brings out of me.

while Matthew dips his index inside my pussy, I writhe against it and tilt my head even more so he has better access.

"look at you," he lets out a dark chuckle, thrusts into me to the last digit. "you want more of this, don't you?"

"yes, sir." I breathe. my neck is actively moving against the metal. I glance down at his body and see his erection straining against his pants, craving release but finding none as he plunges his fingers in and out of me. I can hardly breathe from sheer focus on the sensations he's giving me right now.

"what are you looking at, sweetheart?" he quickens the pace of his movements and uses the object to make me focus on his face.

"you're hard." the words nearly die on my lips. he stares darkly at me, lifting his brows just enough to make me question whether I should have spoken at all. I bite my lip in anticipation.

"and what are you gonna do about it?" his voice is raspy as he stands back, removes his fingers from my pussy, and lets me drop to my knees. I'm weak both from the stimulation and from the loss of it, but I make quick work of undoing his belt, pulling the pants down his legs until I'm face-to-face with his cock. it sits against his stomach, throbbing impatiently while he watches. he uses the metallic point under my jaw to angle my face up to his.

"are you gonna suck me off, baby?" he smirks. I nod rigorously with wide eyes and an open mouth, dragging my tongue along the underside. Matthew's nose scrunches up for a moment at the shock of contact when I tease the head. all his concentration is on watching me wrap my hand around the shaft and pumping him gently. "spit on it."

I obey and spit right onto the tip before rubbing my thumb over the top to gather the precum. as I start to swirl my tongue and move my lips onto him, he throws his head back, lets out a wanton noise. it urges me on. I take every moment with a deliberate attention to the veins and sensitive spot he has.

"that's it, that's it." he rasps while knotting his hand in my hair. the other keeps the knife pressed to my throat. he lets me move on my own for a bit, gauging my desires from the way my eyes attempt to memorize the sight of his face above me, that jaw dropped in licentious craving. I can tell that he wants to fuck my face, but I go slow just to draw it out a little. it makes the soreness of my jaw worth it when he gets all impatient and flustered.

I hollow my cheeks and bob on his dick, bat my lashes, pull myself off him for a second just to kiss the tip.

"can I use your mouth?" he asks through a restrained groan. I open it and nod, sighing at the feeling of his fingers twining through my hair again before he pushes back into the opening. now that he's got full control, he starts to develop his own movements, sometimes meeting his thrusts by pressing my face against him.

he gets deep in it, never losing his grip on the knife, until my nose is pressed to his stomach. my throat closes instinctively around him even more tightly, and he lets out a guttural moan.

"such a cute mouth when I'm using it." he thrusts until I gag and then he's smiling. "get up."

he removes himself so fast, my eyes water at the sudden lack of blockage in my throat. I gulp air while he hooks his hands under my arms and hoists me up. I'm about to turn around so I can lift my leg and give him better access, but he sits me on the arm of the couch and parts my thighs.

"I wanna see your pretty face." he leans down and pecks my cheek. I smile at the surprising tenderness-- although it doesn't last long. steel sits against the space between my neck and collarbone. it's only a moment before he positions himself between my legs and slides his cock into me.

my back arches and I look him in the eyes, gasping.

"fuck, baby." he drags out the first word as he inches inside. I mewl helplessly at the way he stretches me out, my pussy clenching every few seconds. he keeps one hand on my lower back to support me and bring me closer to his pelvis, and then we're staring into each other's eyes as he finally settles in it.

his hips start to thrust into me, hopeful for any kind of contact while I accustom myself to the shape of him. it happens every time, despite the amount of times we've done this. and I'm bad at patience, but he's worse. his body stutters against mine.

"is it good enough, sir?" I ask quietly. he tightens his grip on my back and on the blade, the edge threatening my skin the perfect amount. I suck in a breath at the way it stings a little.

"you're doing perfectly." he recognizes what I want to hear as he finds my sweet spot and begins to hit it repeatedly, smoothly works my body. I swear there are planets in my eyes when I stare at the expressions on his face, both of us so wrapped up in each other that every other thought becomes obsolete.

he moves the knife to under my chin to rest on my throat.

"feel that?"

I nod so the edge bites more. he smirks.

"just to show you who you belong to."

my hips push up to meet his thrusts, needing more stimulation, more friction. what I want is for him to be relentless, to slam into my body with the kind of hunger I know he has. there are sounds, movements, that he's made before that make me want him to use them. but he's withholding, probably hesitant about the dangerous object on my pulse point.

"I belong to you, sir." I egg him on. he likes the sound of that, grunting and starting to pound into me.

"yeah? you're my dirty little whore." he speaks through gritted teeth. I shiver.

"mhmm."

"I use you how I want, when I want." his fingertips dig into my skin and he yanks me closer so that he can hit a new angle. I let out a surprised noise when he brushes my g-spot. it's otherworldly and I expose more of my neck to him.

"my little slut likes pain, huh?" he nudges the weapon harder into my skin. it doesn't draw blood, but I can sense the mark it'll leave. I love it.

"yes, sir." we're both getting needy, but we can't hold each other the way that we want to in our given positions. my palms are occupied on the arm of the couch to hold myself up and one of his hands is too busy holding the object for us to fuck as deeply as we need.

"are you gonna take it like a good girl when I cum in it?" he mutters. he runs his tongue over my jawline and the weapon nicks my skin. I moan at the mingling of sensations that's building all across my body.

"yes, sir." I plead. it's nearly unbearable, how much I want him. we're chasing our orgasms and I know what will finish me off. he knows, too.

Matthew drops the knife. it clatters to the ground, but there's no time for me to register it with the way he grabs my hips and lifts me into the air, my legs wrapping around his waist while he keeps fucking into me. he maneuvers us with shocking ease, laying me on the couch and positioning himself at the right moment so that I can drag my nails over his back and keep my thighs locked around him.

"mmm... baby, I'm gonna cum." he drives into me recklessly, both of us finally able to cling to each other. the angle is just enough to stimulate my clit and I nod, using the leverage of my legs to pull myself to him and roll my hips for friction.

Matthew slams my body into the couch, grunting in my ear as he finds his climax inside me. it's so deep, I have to work to keep the yell inside, but he's not done. he rides it out and plows into me while I reach the edge.

"tell me how it feels." he orders in my ear. I sigh.

"so-- so good, sir." my voice is thin. "I'm close."

"show me." he leaves bruises on my hips with his hands. I feel the knot finally snap, every muscle in my stomach spasming chaotically. I finish with a loud moan, begging him to drag it out further. my vision nearly goes black at the tide that threatens to overtake my body.

"Matthew--" I gasp. he moans quietly at the way I say his name, still rocking his body into mine while I come down from the shocks of orgasm. it's nearly overwhelming, the pleasure running through my body.

slowly, we come to a stillness and he drops his head into my shoulder, panting. he doesn't let go at first, but then he withdraws from my pussy and lets me take a rest. I lay there on the couch while he kneels between my legs, pressing gentle kisses to my neck.

"I love you." he repeats it over and over.

"I love you, too," I hope he can feel the meaning, despite the sheer exhaustion in my tone. he runs his fingertips across the red marks where the thing went a little too deeply, but I'm not worried about it. "we should try that again, sometime."

"you liked it?" he smiles brightly. I love the lines by his eyes.

"definitely."

he lets out a cheerful noise and buries his face back into my throat because he knows how much it tickles. I screech and giggle, my legs kicking wildly around me. more contented than ever before.

#mgg #matthew gray gubler #mgg oneshot #mgg smut #mgg x reader #knife kink #knifeplay

[pandorasbox341]

My art journey...

I wanted to make a post of my art journey so far! I’ve been drawing ‘seriously’ for 10 years now! I’ve never had any formal training in art. I just draw what I want and what makes me happy! 

Since I was a little kid I’ve loved drawing, but I’ve only started drawing seriously back in 2011 (I was 17). I picked up a pen and I didn’t put it down. I drew nonstop. Files and files full of drawings. I still have ring binders FULL of old drawings. I’d just buy a huge pack of printer paper and school art supplies. The cheapest things I could find. I still buy the cheapest art supplies! I loved ballpoint pens and coloured pencils! I didn’t know about references or art tips or anything like that, I just drew what I wanted. I didn’t care whether it was anatomically correct or anything, I wasn’t posting anything online by that time. It was mostly OC and fanarts. My main source of references were comic books. 

^^ Here are some pages from my OLD sketchbooks! These are from 2011-2013. I draw on loose papers and then I stick them in a sketchbook. Some of these were even drawn on linepaper. 

From about 2011 to 2013 I was experimenting with my drawings and just having fun and enjoying drawing.  I tried out every art medium. I loved painting with acrylics (again mostly cheap school supplies, back then we didn’t have fancy art/stationary shops in my town, now we do YAY!!). I tried charcoal once and it was a disaster!

In 2013 I opened my first art account on DeviantArt, that was the first time I started posting my art online. My very first post was a Frank-N-Furter acrylic painting. Here’s some drawings from back then. Some paintings, but mostly pencil drawings. 

When I started to explore DeviantArt and saw how other people drew and how good they were I got very intimidated. I started becoming more ‘serious’ about my art and I wanted to improve more.

I started out with realism. It was very hard and frustrating, but when I saw how realistically other people drew and how good their art was I wanted to do that as well. I was tracing a lot during this time.

In 2014 I became obsessed with My Chemical Romance, it was practically the only thing I drew! I was drawing traditionally and editing my drawings on the computer with a mouse.

In 2016 I became obsessed with Undertale and I drew it nonstop! Undertale helped me improve my art a lot and helped me explore more and try out new things. I was slowly getting used to editing my drawings on the computer, enhancing the colours, adding effects, erasing mistakes etc.

It was during this time that I moved away from the frustrations of realism and went back to my roots - CARTOONS!

In 2018 I fell in love with Invader Zim. Invader Zim was a huge influence in helping me become more comfortable with my own style and the way I draw.

In 2019, on my 25th birthday, I got my first drawing tablet, a wacom intous that I still use. It took a long time for me to get used to it and it felt like I had to learn how to draw all over again. It was really hard for me to get used to a tablet. I started out only using it to edit my drawings. It was way easier using a tablet than a mouse to fix my drawings! I slowly (and I mean SLOWLY) got more used to a tablet.

For a long time, I was very self-critical about my art style. Fandoms helped me realise that I don’t have to do realism or draw perfectly for my art to be ‘good’. These days I’m way more comfortable drawing and not caring whether my art is ‘good’ or not. But social media still has a way of making me feel inferior when I see others art. Usually, I try to ignore it, because there’s really nothing you can do about it. I’ve come a really long way with my art. It’s no picnic, I’ve cried and ripped papers to shreds out of frustration! But I’ve never stopped drawing. It’s really a matter of keep going and not stopping. It makes me happy to draw and I love doing it. But I’m also happy where I’ve got so far!  

#my art #art progress

[gluteus-canis-familiaris]

art post . 07

IT’S THE HBOWAR ART POST : RAGGEDY ASS MARINES EDITION BAYBEH

was too lazy to put my sig on the scans but...... it's the HBOwar fandom...... there are only 10 of us active at a time anyway adfjfjhshagahahaha jk jk

no, no, no, this is not the product of my anxiety when I thought school was starting, only for classes to get postponed for a whole 2 weeks because of a bad wave of omicron, thereby extending the period of anxiety, and then me actually catching it, and subsequently going more nuts than usual while in self-isolation…. nooo…… why would you think that

my notes for this are a real mess, no joke, pls continue reading at your own risk looool

Around this time last year, I started a new sketchbook!!! It felt really nice because it takes so long for me to finish one :( My first sketch in the new one happened to be of Frank Castle and Billy Russo (the Punisher and Jigsaw). I wasn’t that happy with it, had no intention of posting it, and it’s not even HBOWar (??? she doesn’t even go here HAHAHA), but it ended up in this post anyway because I feel like I’ve come full circle by starting 2022 with more USMC goodness! (I mean it’s Jon Bernthal and Recon Marines sooooo not that far of a leap??? also this will be the closest I’ll ever get to making GK/The Punisher crossover content for myself akhkdhkjfha)

The ooooonly reason any of the other sketches came to be is because I sat down for 3 nights in a row, AB SO LUTE LY DETERMINED to draw BradNate before I was thrown back into the torture of a new semester, and I would put a colored pencil down on the page– and my hand would go NOPENOPENOPEABORTABORTABORT

.... so here we are with a whole page of Doc Badass Bandana Bryan and another whole fuqin page of AndyEddie instead akdjfhf  

If I’m being honest though, I’m most happy with the AndyEddie ones 💖💖💖 the bottom left is from the scene in Episode 6 where Ack Ack comes back and tells Hillbilly ‘don’t blame yourself, you did the right thing’ (which is like….bAbE NOOOooOOOooooo) but I mistakenly put them both in ponchos!! Only Hillbilly was smol under a poncho in the actual scene!!! Very minor, but I feel the need to say it!!!! 

If you’re thinking the paper of the Doc Bryan page looks like someone took an angry damp q-tip to their watercolor pencils thinking it was cool, then you’d be damn right. 

And THEN as if my dumbass didn’t think that spending 3 days waffling about before even attempting BradNate was already a red flag, my brain said bUt i nEeD tO seE tHeM iN tHeIr dReSs bLuEs !!! and the rest of me thought, LeT’s dO iT !!!! UGGGGGHHHHHNNNNGGGHHHH SO THAT WAS THAT

Ended up spending a lot of my sick days just looking up the particulars of the Marines dress uniform, which was really fun!! And then I laid down my sketch and made the mistake of deciding on serious coloring instead of my lazy 1-3 tone shading because i wAntEd tHe rEd pIpiNG tO rEalLy sTaNd oUT which was….. a lot less fun…. If it wasn’t already obvious, I nearly abandoned this one several times, I was sooooo damn lazy to color everything in, only to return to it 'cause I was crawling up the walls from isolation lol

Disclaimer that in spite of the joy of reading up on the uniform standards, I really couldn’t 👏 be 👏 arsed 👏 to make the ribbons and medals accurate, I sincerely apologize 🥲Nate magically has a Purple Heart now pffffft

In the end…. it doesn’t really look like either Brad or Nate to me 😂😂😂 but I’m very happy to have attempted it at least! and getting over the fear of the first try makes subsequent doodles a lot easier and less stressful, so here’s to future Fancy BradNate yaaaaay 

I had a looot of years in between my first watch of BoB and my first watches of The Pacific and GK, which came closely after each other, and weirdly enough I never got around to doing fanart in all that time no matter how much I wanted to :(((( So this feels like such a great personal turning point in my HBOwar fanhood!!! (ok there is exactly 1 unfinished Winnix sketch that is so unfinished they don’t even got gaddamn eyes and eyebrows and it won’t see the light of day nope nope) 

#my art #marvel #marvel netflix #the punisher #frank castle #billy russo #hbo war #generation kill #the pacific #brad colbert #iceman #nathaniel fick #nate fick #bradnate #robert timothy bryan #doc bryan #andrew haldane #andy haldane #ack ack #eddie jones #hillbilly jones #hillbilly #andyeddie #JUST SUM RAGGEDY ASS MARINES

[descendantofthesparrow]

Shuffle Playlist - Rewrite - Part of Your World - part 10 - smoke bombs and fake wands

=

Evie let out a slight gasp as she locked her eyes onto the paint-splattered back of Dizzy Tremaine, who was testing out new jewelry designs by grabbing gems and random knick-knacks and putting them up to the attachment piece. Evie put her finger up to her lips, singling for Mal to stay quiet so they could surprise the younger VK.

Mal smiled and nodded, stepping around the salon chair and creeping up to Dizzy, watching with a smirk as Evie crouched next to Dizzy. The teen slowly turned, her eyes widening and a bright grin spreading across her face “Evie?” the blue-haired VK nodded as the younger VK leaped out of her seat and into Evie's arms “Evie you came back!!”

“Hi!” Evie sang, swinging the girl in her arms a bit before Dizzy pulled back. Mal smiled at the display of affection, setting her bag down on one of the nearby tables and starting to gather the things Evie would need to make the smoke bombs.

“Is it all just like we imagined? Do they really have closets you can walk into? Have you been to a real swimming pool yet? What does ice cream taste like?!” Evie and Mal shared an uncomfortable glance as Dizzy listed off the things that were now normal for them.

Mal turned back to the bottles filled with chemicals and tried to remember what Evie had said when she was babbling about the ingredients for the smoke bombs.

“It's cold and it's sweet. And if you eat it too fast it gives you a headache” Evie tapped Dizzy’s forehead, smiling softly as Dizzy's wild grin turned a bit softer at the thought of the treat.

“Really?” Evie nodded, raising her brow as if to say ‘would I lie to you?’ Dizzy looked off to her left for a split moment and her grin widened “I saved your sketchbook for you!” Evie gasped, her eyes widening a bit.

“You did?” Dizzy nodded and ran towards the cash register, leaving Evie to stare at Mal with slightly saddened and surprised eyes. Dizzy ran back to the table with a large blue book with a heart and crown foam cut out on the front.

“Dizzy~” the young VK set the book in front of the chair and took a step back, looking up at Evie with a large grin “Oh my gosh~” Evie flipped her hair out of her face and sat down, running her hands across the front of her old sketchbook. “Wow” she flipped open the book, smiling as she looked at one of her first designed “fancy” dresses, one that was visually very similar to the dress she had made Mal when she met Jasmine and Aladdin. “I made this dress out of an old curtain and safety pins” Evie sighed dreamily, running her fingers across the swatch of fabric scrap she had pinned into the book.

Dizzy nodded her head at Mal “it reminds me of the dress you made for Mal when she met jasmine!” Mal and Evie stopped for a moment, before Mal snorted when she remembered what had happened to that dress.

“I spilled curry all over that” Evie and Dizzy giggled at Mal's dry tone.

“You did”

“Yeah, saw that!”

Evie hummed, brushing her thumb against the old texture of the colored pencils she had used “You’re totally right, Dizzy this was…this was totally the inspiration for that” Dizzy squealed and latched onto Evie, gripping onto her shoulders tightly in a half hug.

“I knew it! You can take the girl outta the isle, but you can’t take the isle outta the girl~” Evie glanced up at Dizzy, oh how had she forgotten about this little ray of sunshine?…she didn’t deserve to be here. She forced herself to look away and smirked, picking up a plain gold wire bracelet and mid-sized crown and heart gem, holding it in the middle of the bracelet

“Is this too much? Or is this fabulous~?” Dizzy grinned and held out her hand.

“Hand me the glue gun~!” Evie grabbed the green and pink glue gun and happily gave it to Dizzy, turning in her seat a bit to make it easier for the younger VK to glue the gem onto the wire bracelet.

-

It was almost midnight by the time Carlos and Jay had arrived back at the dorms, but they had no time to waste as they rushed toward their room. Dude came running out of the room, whimpering for Carlos to pick him up “hey buddy, sorry I’m so late Dude, Ben got captured” Carlos sighed, blinking in surprise as Jay suddenly stopped him.

“why is our door open?” Jay and Carlos glanced at each other before running into the room, their faces dropping into annoyance as Chad Charming's back was turned towards them. “you have got to be kidding me!” Chad quickly turned off the 3D printer and turned with a sheepish smile.

He shrugged at them as if it would make up for breaking into their room…again “I knocked?”

Carlos rolled his eyes and leaned down to set Dude on the floor, the pup running off and leaping onto Carlos’ bed and settling into the mini dog bed on top. Carlos held out his hand, raising his brows when chad looked at him “confused”

Chad sighed and rolled his eyes, taking out the copied key from his pocket and placing it into Carlos’ hand, acting as if Carlos was in the wrong to be mad over Chad copying his key…AGAIN.

Jay glanced at the 3D printer and rolled his eyes, gesturing at the figure inside “what is that?” Chad turned, gasping as he opened the main box and took out the mini royal chad figure inside.

“oh, it’s a little, Chad action figure” he flew the mini chad across Jay and Carlos’ faces making airplane noises, the boys giving him another annoyed look. “well,” he stopped, pouting at the missing head on the figure “minus the head.”

“sounds like an improvement ‘scuse me!” Jay pulled Chad out of Carlos’ way and watched as Carlos pulled out his phone and set the 3D printer to print a copy of FGs wand.

Chad peeked over Jay's shoulder and furrowed his brows “why are you guys making Fairy Godmothers' wand?” Jay and Carlos flinched back, Chad pulling back in turn.

“um, why are we making Fairy godmothers wand?” Lonnie, who was heading back to her room from the amphitheater, paused as she heard this peculiar conversation. She peeked into the room, raising her brow as she watched Jay and Carlos fumble for an excuse.

“Ben’s been captured!” the entire room stopped, Chad whipping around to look at the new voice, eyes widening when he realized Dude had been the one to speak up.

“what?!” Chad looked from the boys and back to Dude, pointing at the mutt “Dude can talk?!”

“I was stalling!” Carlos sighed, shaking his head at Dude.

“I thought you forgot?” Dude whimpered, laying his head down on his paws. Jay hit Chad in the chest, making the blonde teen look at him. “Don’t tell anyone, Ben’s life depends on it”

Lonnie’s eyes widened for a moment before she decided she would be coming along with the boys back to the isle to help rescue Ben, she quickly left the boys dorm and back to hers, she had to change.

Chad narrowed his eyes a bit, glancing between his mini-figure to the boys “Really?...So if something were to happen, you know what I’m saying?” Carlos looked at him confused but nodded.

“Something bad we get it” Chad let out a small laugh.

“God forbid, but if something were to happen…Who do you think would be in line to be king?” he held the headless mini-figure of himself next to his face.

Jay and Carlos just stared at him, before both of them shook their head “Dude…no” Carlos groaned, turning back to the 3D printer as Jay walked over to the door and gestured for Chad to leave.

Chad sighed and rolled his eyes, dragging his feet as he walked out of the boy's dorm. He held up his mini-figure “I’m taking this”

Just as he stepped out of the dorm he turned, holding his finger in the air “and if you think-“ Jay slammed the door, nodding as Carlos thanked him.

Carlos closed the printer and pressed the start button on his phone, sighing as the timer appeared “great, this thing is going to take hours to be done” he flipped into his chair and rubbed his face. Jay punched the table and walked around to alleviate some energy.

“why is it gonna take so long?” Dude asked, hopping down from his bed and into Carlos’ lap. Carlos glanced down at him and sighed.

“because even after all my edits to it, it's still going to take a bit to make something that big, we’re lucky it's not gonna take three days like a normal 3D printer”

“How long?” Jay asked, leaning over the table and watching as the bottom of the wand started to build.

“Timer says 11 am finish.” Carlos moaned, wincing as Jay cursed.

“what?! By that time, we’ll only have like, an hour to spare!? It takes like an hour to get to the bridge from here!”

“I know I know” Carlos groaned, rubbing his face again “but I can't force it to go faster or it'll fuck up the look and we need it to be perfect as possible” Jay shook his head, pacing around the room again, only for him to just flop on the chair next to Carlos, once more watching the slow building of the wand.

“…I really hope (y/n) finds Harry” Jay muttered. Eyes drifting to the R.O.A.R metal he had gotten last month, thanks to Harry’s skill that won them the tournament.

“Me too…” Carlos sighed, burying his hands into Dude’s fur as he watched the phone timer slowly tick down.

-

“Got it?” Evie muttered, carefully pulling the chemical-filled glove away from the spout Mal was holding, the purple-haired girl being careful not to bump Evie so the bomb wouldn’t go all over the salon.

“Yeah, I got it” Mal set the spout down in the tub and rolled her neck, sighing at the satisfying crack that came from it.

“Perfect, that makes five smoke bombs” Mal took the purple chemical-filled glove from Evie, taking one of the thin plastic elastic ties and securing the smoke bomb.

“Okay, I think that’s enough yeah?” Evie nodded, turning and smiling as she spotted one of Dizzy’s creations.

“M?” the girl hummed at her name and looked at Evie, a grin growing on her face as Evie turned back to her and modeled the golden headband with red gem hearts plastered on it “how amazing would this look with my shredded tee and my heart purse”

Mal nodded even though she didn’t know which articles of clothing Evie was talking about, considering Evie had several shredded tees and three heart purses. “Fabulously amazing” Evie grinned, about to set the headband back where she found it when Dizzy interrupted with an excited squeal.

“Take it! Take a bunch!” Evie gasped, turning to grab her heart purse and tossed in the heart headband before meeting dizzy halfway and staring in awe as Dizzy dumped a whole armful of headbands and accessories.

“Oh, Dizzy! Oh my gosh!” she spotted a pair of silver and red earrings that would suit (y/n) perfectly “Thank you!”

“It would make me so happy, to know that you were wearing something of mine in Auradon! Almost like me being there myself~” Mal and Evie shared another uncomfortable glance before Evie dropped her bag on the chair and pulled Dizzy into a tight hug.

“I really wish I could take you with me” Evie sighed, rubbing her cheek slightly on the top of Dizzy’s head before she pulled away, amazed by the bright smile that was still shining on Dizzy's face.

“At least one of us got to have our dream come true, right?” Mal looked between the two girls and smiled, rubbing the top of Dizzy’s head and nodding towards the door.

“E, we have to go” she muttered, giving Evie another soft smile as the girl slowly nodded and pulled away from Dizzy, who gave a cheerful wave and skipped back to her table, flipping open Evie's sketchbook again to look through it.

Mal watched as Evie could hardly take her eyes off the younger girl, she sighed, taking off her gloves and tossing them into the bin near her “She’s going to be okay E…and she won't be here much longer” Mal whispered at the end, smiling as Evie whipped around to look at her with wide eyes “After you get back, I’m betting (y/n) will get a jumpstart on Ben to continue the VK transfer program” Evie smiled at the thought, looking back at Dizzy.

“but how knows how long that will take” Mal's shoulders slumped as Evie continued to look at Dizzy with saddened eyes, she reached out and tapped Evie's hand, wiggling her fingers in a “gimme” motion. Evie placed her gloves in Mal's hand and she tossed them in the bin, tapping Evie’s hand again and doing another “gimmie” motion.

Evie let out a little snort and grabbed Mal's hand, the two walking out of the salon and heading back to the hideout.

-

“That one was epic, that one went on for actual days~” Mal laughed, her arm linked with Evie’s as they walked up the alley next to the hideout.

“Like it mattered right?” Evie shot back, looking up at the towering buildings and clothing lines.

Mal hummed, shifting the bag on her shoulder “we were both-“

“-undone by true love's kiss” Evie laughed, shaking her head.

“works every time ~!” they spoke in unison, bumping their heads together slightly as they finally arrived back at the hideout. Evie stopped, pulling away from Mal a bit.

“I really thought that’s what you and Ben had” Mal side-eyed Evie, giving her a look. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Mal sighed, unlinking her arm and shaking her head “I’m not coming back yet Evie” Evie gave her a confused look “oh, he might have not had enough…time to tell you, but I wasn’t planning on staying here forever…I know it sounds bad but I was hoping one of you guys would come get me…I was just hoping for a bit more time to get my head on straight before diving back into Auradon’s craziness” Mal shook her head, looking down at her feet “but it was just so much in so little time…I know deep down I didn’t have to change myself into the perfect Auradon girl, and I know most of the problems that I had a big deal with I created for myself but…its-it’s just been so hard, not to have someone dictate you’re every move”

Evie gave Mal a look, about to interrupt her but Mal shook her head “Let me finish, please.” Evie nodded and sighed, leaning back against the metal support beam. “Now I don’t want someone to dictate my every move like my mother did, but it's what I was used to, and that all changed so suddenly that I just, latched onto the first thing, Ben. And I thought-I thought that he would want a perfect Auradon girl, so that’s what I tried to become, and he-he never said anything about it, neither did the rest of you, so I thought I was doing the right thing….I should have told you what was going on in my fucked-up brain…I’m sorry”

Evie glanced around, seeing multiple stragglers around the alleys “Let's continue this conversation in the hideout okay?” Mal sniffed, rubbing her eyes a bit and nodding, watching as Evie grabbed a rock and chucked it at the sign. She let Evie take her free hand and lead her up the stairs, stopping at the second level and looking out towards the bright lights of Auradon city.

“so…why didn’t you say anything?” Evie asked, watching in the corner of her eye as Mal joined her on the rails.

“I-…You aren’t responsible for me Evie” Mal sighed, running her hands through her hair “It’s not your job or responsibility to take care or fix my dumbass mistakes, that’s my responsibility to deal with my bullshit. And-and I-…I don’t know how to ask for help…you know how my mother was, asking for help was showing weakness, and…I guess that’s still wired in my brain”

It was silent between the two of them for a moment, before Mal spoke again “and I have to get this off my chest, but speaking of my mother, another lesson of hers was never apologize, but as I've learned she's a fucking lunatic and wrong about everything so!” she slapped her hands on the rails, twisting around to look at Evie, who stared at her confused “I don’t know if you’ve thought about this stuff since it happened, but! I’m sorry”

Evie opened her mouth to talk but Mal quickly covered it. “I’m sorry for throwing a fit over not being invited to your sixth birthday, I’m sorry that it resulted in you getting banished and forced to only be around your mother for ten years, I’m sorry for being a bitch to you after you came back, I’m sorry for shoving you in Cruella's closet, and I’m sorry for trying to trick you into taking my mom's scepter and trying to send you to a sleep-like death, and I’m sorry that it took me this long to realize that I've been a horrible person and friend to you” Mal gasped, finally taking a breath. She smiled at Evie and slowly took her hand off her mouth “Thank you for putting up with my bullshit for the last year, and thank you for being one of the greatest friends I've ever had, even when I didn’t deserve it”

A soft smile broke out on Evie's face and she pulled mal into a tight hug “oh Mal” her voice wavered “Thank you” she sniffed, gasping a bit as she felt her eyes burn “I-I pushed it into the back of my mind but…it-it did kinda bother me, all that stuff” Mal gave Evie a comforting smile and rubbed her arm.

“I know, and I’m sorry it took me….how long has it been since you came out of banishment?” Evie narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips in thought.

“um…well it was…three months before we went to Auradon so…nine months?” Mal snapped her fingers and nodded.

“Yeah, sorry I've taken that long to apologize to you” Evie grinned, pulling Mal into another tight hug.

“Apology accepted” Mal hummed and squeezed Evie back…before she rapidly tapped the back of Evie's jacket.

“Okay that’s enough physical affection for me, off please!” Evie giggled and shook her head, letting go of Mal and leaning back on the rails.

“Sorry, I forgot sometimes you’re not into physical affection” Mal shrugged, crossing her arms and leaning on the rails next to Evie.

“Eh, it's not that I’m not into its more….I can only handle a certain amount…ya know? Like (y/n) says I’m a cat; if I initiate it, I’ll be cuddly as all hell. if you want a hug? Nope, you get the claws” Mal faked a cat hiss and made a claw with her hand at Evie, who burst into laughter.

Mal smiled and mentally patted herself on the back for being able to cheer Evie up quickly, and looked in front of her, letting gout a soft sigh.

Evie’s laugh subsided and she turned to Mal

(A/n; again, I’m not writing this out, just watch the music vid)

They sat down on the couch and talked about random things, how Auradon life had been treating them, how Mal felt about Ben and their breakup, how (y/n) and Harry's relationship was doing.

“Speaking of Harry” Mal sighed, lifting her head up to stare at the ceiling “I really hope (y/n) found him”

“Me two” Evie sighed, leaning onto her hand and glancing up at the old projector on the ceiling “…what are we going to do if they don’t find Harry by the time we have to leave the isle with Ben?”

“I don’t know E…” Mal's voice cracked, god she hoped Hook hadn’t found Harry “I really don’t know…I’m scared for him”

“Yeah” the two girls curled up together, sending out wishes for Harry to come back to Auradon safe and sound.

-

The cabin boy, Alfie, quickly and quietly carried a small silver tray down to the brig, piled with week-old bread, oily and stale fries, and a three-day-old apple that had been sitting out in the market. He carefully shouldered open the door leading to the main cells and let out a small whimper, watching as Harry's crumpled form lay in the corner of his cell.

“Harry?” Alfie carefully spoke, setting the tray in front of Harry's cell and sliding it through the food gate “I got some food for you…I’m sorry it's not the best but it’s all I could get extra of” Harry turned on his shoulder to glance at the tray. Alfie stifled a gasp as he spotted the darkening large bruise under Harry's jaw and eye, and the multiple bleeding cuts on his cheek and lips.

Harry didn’t speak, slowly sitting up and standing, hobbling over to the tray and picking it up, nodding at Alfie as he inspected the “food”

He walked back into the corner of his cell, wincing as the nasty black bruise on his leg gave him trouble sitting down.

Alfie watched as Harry scarfed down his rotting food, shuffling nervously on his feet. “Do you really think your Auradon girl is going to come for you?” he asked, flinching as Harry’s, though puffy and rimmed with red, bright blue eyes turned to him “Not-not in a bad way, I meant more-…is she really going to do all you said she would?”

“Aye,” Harry's voice was rough, almost non-existent from the screams that had been forcefully ripped from it. “The lass won't hold’ back ‘gainst him…I know it” Alfie stared at the fond smile that was on Harry's face and nodded, standing from his crouch next to Harry's cell and spinning on his heel.

“…Goodnight” Alfie sighed, walking out of the brig and to the crew's quarters. He hoped that when Harry's girl came for Hook, he wouldn’t be caught in the crossfire.

-End of part 10-

Wow part 10! There it is! Yep sooo…I don’t got much to talk about other than MAL FINALLY APOLOGIZES FOR THE SHIT SHE PUTS EVIE THROUGH! Proper character development people! Also yes the cabin boy is not mean to Harry, he’s just a younger teen trying to get by on the isle and got roped into being on James hook’s crew.

okay permtaglist!

@queer-cosette @sephiralorange

@lunanight2012 @daughter-of-the-stars11

@musicarose @thecaptainsgingersnap

@descendantsobsessed @verboetoperee

@rintheemolion @remembered-license

@random-thoughts-003​ @imtryingthisout​

taglist 

@beccad10x​ @thesailbells​

#disney descendants #harry hook #harry hook x reader #harry hook descendants #harry hook imagine #Descendents #descendants #anti mal #just in case #part of your world #rewrite #shuffle playlist #captain hook #mal descendants #mal daughter of maleficent #evie descendants #evie daughter of the evil queen #chad charming #dude descendants #thomas doherty

[s-creations]

In Sickness, In Health Chapter 5 - Broken Arm

Fandom: DuckTales 2017 / The Three Caballeros             Rating: General Audience             Relationships/Pairings:  José Carioca/Donald Duck/Panchito Pistoles     Additional Tags: getting sick, being cared for, mental health, injury, sore throat, common cold, chicken pox, broken bones, whooping cough, taking care of others.

Part of a Series Called: We’re the Three- Sorry, Six Caballeros!

Author’s Note: This chapter is self titled with what's about to happen. But please keep in mind this contains talk of broken bones. If I need to put further tags/warnings on this story, please let me know!

“Dewey, I’m serious, get down!” Huey frantically called.

 “Sorry, can’t hear you. Too high up and doing amazing!” Dewey called back as he reached for the next level of branches. 

 “Dewey!” 

 “Let it go dude,” Louie commented as he scrolled through his phone. Leaning up against the same tree that Dewey was currently climbing. “You’re not getting him down from there. Just let nature take its course.”

 While Huey glared at Louie, Dewey was continuing his trek up the tall tree. Humming his theme song (version 236) while he reached for another branch. His plan for the day was to reach the top of the tallest tree in the backyard so he could see across the bay. To hopefully see across it, maybe even see the entire world and what it had to offer. Maybe he could even find some place interesting enough to visit! Some place close!

 Ah, he was so eager! He couldn’t wait to find out what the rest of the world looked like. Entire body shaking with eagerness, Dewey moved a bit too quickly...

 He lost his footing first. Webbed foot slipped and Dewey quickly reached out to try and grab something for support. Only for his hand to grab at air. The branch just a bit too far out of reach. 

 It was as if time stood still for a moment. Dewey got a brief thought of ‘Huh...maybe this wasn’t the best idea.’ before he began to properly fall. It was strangely exhilarating to hear the wind rushing around him. Sort of like flying. Except the opposite. Because he was, in fact, falling. So this was worse.

 Dewey hit the ground hard, Huey shrieking while Louie let out a cry of ‘Holy Cow!’ as they rushed over. The triplet dressed in blue sat up slowly. Looking around, dazed, but otherwise felt fine. 

 “What were you thinking! You could have been killed!” Huey huffed. Fear being replaced by anger as he glared down at his brother.

 “I was thinking how cool it would be to see the view from the top of that tree. But I guess it wasn’t meant to be for the moment. Oh well, I’ll try again tomorrow-”

 Dewey let out a yelp of pain when he tried to put weight on his arm. Pain shooting through it, the duckling swearing he was about to pass out from it. Taking a deep breath to keep himself awake, Dewey looked down at said arm. Which was clearly broken. Sticking out at a weird angle, but nothing else seemed ‘wrong’.

 “I broke my arm.”

 “WHAT?”

 “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s broken. Check it.” Dewey casually commented holding up the mentioned limb. Louie looked close to vomiting while Huey turned very pale. 

 “Oh… Okay. Um, Louie, can you get Uncle Donald?” The youngest triplet nodded and dashed back towards the house, happy to not see the arm. Huey, on his part, bent down to examine the damage as best he could. “Ah...so… I don’t think I’m supposed to touch it. But it looks so bad!”

 “Dude, it doesn’t hurt. Just breathe and leave it alone.” Truth be told, Dewey wasn’t really sure why he wasn’t panicking. Maybe it was because everyone else was already freaking out. But, it was probably the fact that, since it didn’t hurt, Dewey wasn’t too worried.

 “Dewey!” 

 Ah, someone else to worry about him.

 “Hi Uncle Donald!” Dewey beamed while being faced with a panicked duck. 

 Donald looked prepared to start pulling out his feathers in panic. “Okay, okay, Dewey, how are you feeling?”

 “Pretty good, all things considered.”

 “Okay, can you walk? We need to get you to the car.” 

 “Sure...I’ll just need help getting up.”

 Dewey was more than patient as the rest of the family rushed around him. Helping him into the car, getting the seatbelt on, making sure he was okay before they set off. A quick trip to the emergency room later and Dewey now had a sweet cast and a story to share with his other two uncles. 

 “This is so cool! Benny had one of his arms in a cast too and he got people to sign it. Do you think I could do that too?” Dewey looked up at Donald, freehand knocking on the hardened plaster. 

 “Of course. You can start carrying some sharpies when you’re at school. Just as long as you don't make everything messy and you don’t distract the class.” Donald commented, finally relaxed now that everything was taken care of.

 At first, Dewey was honestly thrilled to have his cast. It was like getting a fancy new piece of armor in a video game. Wanting to constantly show it off. Happily retelling his adventure with so much gusto to whomever would hear him. It was great. 

 Until it wasn’t.

 The first issue was how uncomfortable the cast was becoming. It was heavy and clunky. He couldn’t sleep because the cast was just dead weight. His arm started becoming both itchy and sweaty. Hot and bothersome with no solution as to how it was supposed to be fixed. 

 The second issue was that there was no one else to tell the story to. All his classmates knew. All his neighbors knew. And, even if his uncles would listen to him, Dewey knew they were becoming bored by the story. The once great armor was now dragging him down. 

 The last issue was that he couldn’t do anything. Uncle Donald made it clear that Dewey wasn’t going to do anything with the cast on. Not that the duckling paid that warning too much attention. Until he realized that the cast was preventing Dewey from, quite literally, doing anything. He couldn’t grab anything. Couldn’t put pressure on it in any way. Hold anything. It was basically a useless arm. 

 “At least you have some time to work on your homework.” Huey offered weakly. Which was only met with an unamused glare. 

 Dewey was becoming so bored. 

 He was currently situated on the sofa during one afternoon. Eyes barely open, barely focused, as he ‘watched’ the television. Dewey wasn’t fully taken in what he was looking at. He was also pretty sure there was a string of drool sliding out from the side of his mouth.

 “Well, don’t you look charming.”

 Dewey merely rolled his head to the side to look over towards Donald. “Hello…”

 “Hello to you too.” The older duck walked over, claiming an empty seat next to the blue dressed triplet. “I see you’ve moved your pity party from the bedroom to the living room.”

 “Not pity.” Dewey weakly argued back.

 “No? Then what are you doing?”

 “Bored?”

 “Ah, I see. Nothing like being sad for yourself.”

 “There’s nothing I can to with my stupid arm is it’s stupid cast.” Dewey huffed weakly. 

 “You’ve done nothing but watch t.v. since you’ve gotten that cast. Why don’t you try doing something new?”

 “Broken arm, can’t do anything.”

 Donald rolled his eyes. “You’re not in a full body cast, you can still move. And your dominant hand is still ‘free’. I don’t mean trying to climb something new. Why not find a new hobby? Read a book, go take a walk, something.”

 “All sounds boring.”

 Letting out a slow breath, Donald took a new approach. “Well, I have something you might be interested in.”

 “Doubt it.” Even with a heavy sigh of boredom, Dewey still followed his uncle.

 They entered a small side room at the back of the house. One filled with mainly boxes and other unneeded odds and ends. They passed the stacked boxes, going towards the sole window. Where an artist easel had been set up. Paints and other tools cluttering a small rolling cart that had been pushed against the wall. 

 “What is this?” Dewey asked as he looked over the pile of paint tubes. 

 “My get away, if you will. When I want a break from everything, I come here and just paint. Just...put on some music and paint.”

 “I’ve never seen you paint before…”

 “Well, I did just start,” Donald commented, taking a seat in front of the easel. “I was told it would help me relax.”

 “So, are you telling me to start painting?” Dewey asked. 

 “Sort of.” Reaching into a large bag that was propped up against the wall as well, Donald pulled out two items. A small sketchbook and a mechanical pencil. “You have an active imagination. Why don’t you try giving your words some pictures?”

 Dewey was skeptical at first. When starting, it was frustrating. Nothing was looking right and it was maddening to try and figure out what something was supposed to look like. Seeing it in his head to transfer it onto paper was difficult. 

 Tio José swooped in to save the day. When Dewey crumpled up another failure. The parrot was more than happy to give his expertise on how to start off a drawing. Getting the basic shapes, proportions, how to look at the whole and the parts of an object, how drawing from real life can help draw from the imagination. After that, there was no stopping him.

 Even with the cast on, it didn’t stop him. If anything Dewey started using it as a weight to keep the loose paper still. The rest of the recovery melted away. The blue cladded duckling happily returned to school with a fully healed arm and a number of handcrafted books to share. 

#donald duck #josé carioca #panchito pistoles #jose carioca/donald duck/panchito pistoles #The Three Caballeros #the three gay caballeros #s-creations #fanfiction

[chaoticallysapphic]

the great trial part four

summary: This was meant to be the easy part. The part filled with brightness and love. The war was over and you had the love of your life all to yourself. No more Baatar, no more secrecy and no more lies. But with the calm comes the realization as all the adrenaline finally leaves you. Now you know, this is the hard part.

a/n: lol I just realized part four of tgd is where it got smutty. What a pattern like I didn’t even try. Thank you @medeliadracon​ and @ladyxffandoms​ !

word count: 5k

You pick up reading again and sometimes Kuvira joins you, the both of you sit with your back resting against an armrest as your legs are tangled together.

Lily is asleep on the armchair and jazz music softly plays from the radio as the newly repaired domes shut for the evening. Kuvira is humming as you turn the page of your novel and dog ear the corner before snapping it shut, she looks up from her book with a quirked brow. 

“I’m bored,” you groan out, tilting your head back in annoyance as you let the book slide onto your lap. “How are we gonna spend the rest of winter like this.”

“We’ll manage,” she replies, wedging a bookmark between the pages and softly shutting the book. “We should probably make dinner.” 

Resting your head against the back of the couch you eye the kitchen with a sigh. “We could make bean curd puffs, those are fun.” 

And so the both of you end up in the kitchen with Kuvira making the mixture as you roll the dough into a thick stick, the countertops and even the floors are covered in flour as you begin to cut the roll into twelve pieces. You don’t notice the way Kuvira watches you, a small smile that's reserved only for you as she watches you begin to spread the pieces out with the palm of your hand. 

By now you're the one humming the song. Kuvira’s noticed how much you like this new song that plays on the radio, how you hum or softly sing the lyrics when it comes on. You catch her staring and raise a brow, a slight flush dusting your cheeks. “What?” 

“Nothing,” she shakes her head. “You just look so beautiful.” You stop your movements, your mouth open in surprise. Neither of you has gone as far as complimenting the other, for the most part, an outsider might just think you’re roommates with how the two of you have been acting these last few months. 

Abandoning the dough you try to fill your head with confident words as you turn to your soulmate and take the step to be closer to her. Kuvira’s grip on the spoon loosens as she watches you step closer and slowly bring your flour-covered hands to rest on her cheeks. “You look... Really pretty.” 

And she does, she’s started to wear her hair down for you and she’s dressed in a white tank top and light green sweatpants which might not be appealing to some but it shows off her muscles and curves in a way that she knows you like. 

Taking the chance you lean forward and gently press your lips against hers. You haven’t kissed since the hospital which was midsummer, the months have gone by so slowly and with it, your anger has dissipated into a dull flame within you. 

Hesitantly she kisses you back, one of her hands goes to rest on your hip but she doesn’t hold it in fear of you pulling away. She’s had dreams of you finally kissing her again, none involve standing in the middle of the kitchen with flour covering one of you but she doesn’t care.

She just wants you. Slowly you pull your lips away from hers but don’t move an inch away from her body. 

“I’ve missed this,” she admits, “I’m sorry.” She doesn’t say what she’s sorry about but you know, there’s honestly too much for her to apologize for her to fit it into one simple sentence.

And you know you’ll need quite a few more I’m sorry‘s before you reach that next step but right now you won’t ask for more. Right now you wrap your arms around her neck and begin to sway to the song on the radio. It’s one of your favorites. 

Kuvira slowly wraps her arms around your waist and tucks her face into the crook of your neck, breathing you in like she hasn’t seen you in years. To be fair it’s felt like that to her. 

A part of her wants to shower you in I love you’s but she doesn’t think it’s time for that just yet. Dr. Hanika said it’s best to let you make the first move this time around, to give you the control and decision making she originally took from you all those years ago. So instead she pulls you just a fraction closer to help keep her mouth shut. 

You take the soft barrier of pillows down, neither of you moves to touch the other but it’s comforting to know that you won’t push her off the bed if her arm brushes against your own.

Your parents come over for the winter solstice with presents aplenty and grins on their faces. They pull you into their arms and press loving kisses on your cheek, your dad does the same to Kuvira whilst your mom simply sends a forced smile her way before going to love on Lily. She understands your mother's hatred towards her, she just hopes one day they can talk it out for you. 

The two of you had spent the day making cookies and homemade hot chocolate to prepare for your parents, the house smells of cinnamon and sugar as plates upon plates of cookies are set at the counter waiting to be eaten. Your father replaces the wilting bouquet with one filled with red, white, and gold and your mother sets the presents down in front of the window.  

You both felt bad for not being able to get them presents, but your father had assured both of you that they understood. Besides, they just wanted to make up for the lost time. So you all sit around the table eating the feast the two of you had prepared and drinking wine, your dad is regaling Kuvira with a story of your tenth winter solstice where you had accidentally drunk your mother's wine. 

Your mom places her head in her hands and groans “I felt like the worst mother in the world.” 

“Hey, you're not,” you say with a grin. “You held my hair back a few hours later and the worst mother in the world wouldn’t do that.” The table erupts into boisterous laughter as she playfully glares at you. Kuvira takes a sip of her wine as she chuckles, her cheeks hurt from smiling.

She turns a blind eye when she notices your dad slipping Lily a chunk of meat, knowing you're trying to train her to not beg. He pats the hound’s head as the conversation continues, this time your mom is telling everyone about some of her weirdest experiences with drunk people in Zaofu. 

The night continues much the same until finally, you all decide to retire to the living room. Kuvira decides to sit on the armchair so the three of you can snuggle up on the couch. You surprise her by walking over and sitting on her lap, laying your back against her chest. She rests her chin on your shoulder and wraps her arms around your waist, a smile of contentment gracing her lips. 

Your mother ignores the display and hands you the first present on the pile, explaining that it’s for Lily. You quirk a brow at that before ripping the paper off and opening the box up. 

Inside is a knitted dark green sweater with the words “I’m the favorite” stitched across the chest in white. You snort, bringing a hand up to cover your mouth and even Kuvira laughs at the sight. The I in favorite has been replaced by a middle finger, this is 100% your mothers doing, it has her humor plus your dad can’t knit. 

“Thank you,” you say as you begin to calm down. “I think she’ll love this.” Your dad takes it from you to put it on Lily who wags her tail back and forth in excitement at the attention. It fits her perfectly and the words can be seen from your seat on Kuvira’s lap. 

Next, is a cranberry sweater made for you that is super comfortable, a few pairs of thick socks for the both of you to share. New books and a new pair of gardening gloves. At some point during the unwrapping, you hear the shudder of a camera a few times, your father holding it up to capture memories for the two of you. 

There’s only two presents left in the pile and this time your dad hands this one specifically to Kuvira, who pinches her brows together in confusion. You shift a bit on her lap to give her more room to open it up, watching with bated breath to see what it could possibly be. 

Inside is a new sketchbook that’s leather-bound with a sleek metal clasp that locks. It’s wider and thicker than her current one which is running out of space and beneath the book is more charcoal pencils to add to her depleting collection. 

She thickly swallows as her hand runs over the beautifully engraved leather that has her initials in swirly letters at the bottom. It’s simple and it’s hers. 

With the Beifong’s it was usually things for sparring or extravagant gifts that anyone but Kuvira would prefer like fancy tunics and those massive metal necklaces they all wore. She’d sit in the back of the group staring at the gifts that felt like they didn’t really belong to her with a heavy heart.

But this is 100% hers. You brush a pesky strand of hair out of her face for her before turning to give your dad a thankful smile. 

You knew he’d get her something but you worried about what it might be. Seeing her reaction is enough to know that your father's streak of perfect gift giving has not been broken. Carefully, as if worried she may break it, Kuvira places it back inside its box for now and looks up, offering your father the faintest of grateful smiles. He understands though and beams at her appreciation. 

The last gift is also for Kuvira, it’s a heavy box that she slowly rips open, taking her time unlike you with your gifts. When she lifts the lid she’s met with soft emerald green fabric, slowly pulling it out you help her by taking the empty box, setting it on the floor. It’s a knitted sweater like yours. It looks like it’s a size too big for her but you once told her that’s how your mom knits, the bigger the better. 

She doesn’t know what to say or do, you mentioned offhandedly how your mom makes everyone in the family sweaters for Winter Solstice, but she didn’t expect to get one as well. Not only is she not a family member, but she’s not even a friend. That nagging voice in her brain tells her that she probably didn’t make this. Maybe your mom bought it from a store or maybe you guilted her into making one. 

But it’s soft and it’s beautiful and it’s hers. Nothing extravagant (although at times Kuvira does miss the finer things in life) or flashy. The emerald goes great with your cranberry, and she wonders if your mother thought of that or if it's just a coincidence.

Kuvira grips the fabric and looks up to see your mom watching with a pensive look. She takes a sip of her wine as Kuvira softly says “Thank you, for the gifts.” It’s directed at the both of them but her eyes stay on your mother who simply nods. 

Shortly after, your parents call it a night and leave and you carefully extract yourself from her hold to hug them both. When you pull your mother into a hug you whisper softly “thank you, mom. It means a lot.” She nods, she doesn’t hug Kuvira, not ready for that, and offers her a nod of the head before leaving with your father. 

As you're cleaning up the mess of wrapping paper and half-empty wine glasses, Kuvira shyly slips the sweater on to see if it fits and is surprised by how comfortable it is. The sleeves go past her wrist and graze at her knuckles and the sweater stops at the tops of her thighs. She looks down at the sweater, so many emotions that she can’t keep track of race through her mind and it’s so loud that she accidentally tunes you out. 

Your back is facing her as you begin to wash the dishes, you're talking to her about what you’ll do with all these leftover cookies. When she doesn’t reply to your joke about having a cookie eating contest you look over your shoulder and stop scrubbing the dish in your hands. 

The color makes her hair look slightly darker and brings out her eyes. She’s running her fingers over the fabric with a blank face and you wish to know what’s going on in that head of hers. She looks softer, less harsh with it on. 

For so long you’ve seen her dressed ready to fight with a hardened look on her features, but right now she looks warm and cozy. She looks like safety and comfort personified, like if she wraps her arms around you a cocoon of soft blankets and loving whispers will encase the two of you. 

You stop with the dishes and wipe your hands dry before walking up to Kuvira, when your hands go to gently touch hers it brings her out of her thoughts. Her eyes are clouded with emotion as you pull her into your arms. She wraps her arms around your waist and tightly grips at your shirt as she begins to cry. 

To her, this is the first step in repairing a relationship she deeply misses, Kuvira and your mother were once close when she was in the guard. She sometimes brought her lunches which she now knows must have been made by your dad and always had her back. She cheered the loudest at her ceremony and even offered to have her come over for dinner to which Kuvira declined, not wanting to impose. 

When she left those years ago she didn’t realize what she was severing, what she was destroying, and she knows she can’t change it, but she wishes she had stayed in Zaofu. They could have had three winter solstices together by now if she had just stayed put.

You wouldn’t be in the process of forgiving her because she would have left Baatar for you and you’d probably already be married or on your way to it. She knows that such a thing has been put on the back burner and won’t happen for a long time now, but she hates herself for destroying all those possibilities. 

But you don’t seem to mind the past as you pull her closer and soothingly rub her back. Your embrace reminds her of the present and what will hopefully be the future. At this moment she’s realized how far the two of you have come within the past few months. It reminds her that Dr. Hanika said not to let the past consume you and that when Kuvira smiles you look so happy to witness such a thing. That despite all her wrongdoings you're still here which is more than she ever expected. 

That night Kuvira falls asleep in that sweater with your arms wrapped around her. She dreams of a future where she’s gained your mother’s respect and your forgiveness. 

Spring comes like a force to be reckoned with. Your garden is teeming with the buds of the seeds you planted last fall as you happily spend your days back outside. The sessions with Dr. Hanika have proceeded and all gone smoothly, today was meant to be your first couples session since last summer. Both of you are nervous about what might happen during it so you throw yourselves into separate activities to pass the time. 

Lily is lying by your side, leisurely eating grass as you pull at the weeds that have attacked your precious garden. While you're doing that Kuvira is inside drawing with a cup of tea by her side, she’s gotten better but is by no means a professional, she hasn’t even shown you any of her work due to the insecurities she has regarding her skill. You understand thankfully, never once have you asked to look inside or pressured her.

When the doorbell rings, the both of you freeze, your nerves amplifying at the realization that there is no going back. Kuvira snaps her sketchbook shut, locking it with her bending before going to open the door. She’s been dreading this day the most. In her dreams last night she envisioned a session far worse than the last. In it, you verbally decimated her before saying it was over, that you could never love someone so monstrous. 

To bring her comfort she’s wearing your mother's green sweater with a pair of your leggings. When she asked this morning if she could borrow them you didn’t seem to mind which eased her nerves a bit. You wouldn’t be willing to share clothes with her if you were planning to end it today. At least that’s what she told herself.

While Dr. Hanika is getting situated in the armchair you finally come inside and place your gloves on your herb shelves. Your pants have dirt-stains on them and you know it’d probably be best to change but you want to get this over with so you take a seat on the couch, next to Kuvira. 

“Well, I can already tell you guys have been doing better,” she smiles. You tuck your hands under your legs as she begins to talk. She asks you both questions about your day like what does that consist of? How do you guys communicate now? Are you happy? You both take turns answering those questions and when you get to the last you answer honestly and say “Yes, I am.” 

Kuvira doesn’t show it but inside she’s doing cartwheels at your words. She looks over at you and replies after you “I’m happy.” 

“And what does your sex life look like right now?” That question stuns both of you. Kuvira just stares at the coffee table with wide eyes, not knowing how to reply as you flush a deep red. 

“Uhm we haven’t…” You shake your head. “Not since before.” Before the end of my empire, Kuvira thinks. Not since that night almost a year ago where she thought you had finally left her, the night before it all went to shit. Not since your dream that finally made you snap, not that she blames you. 

Not since “I can’t look at you right now!” and the crack in her heart that followed those words. 

“Y/n, what is holding you back from taking that next step?” Dr. Hanika readies her pen as she patiently waits for your reply. Honestly, you’ve wanted to for the last couple of weeks but then you go to sleep and dream of her with him. Your mind keeps reminding you of her betrayal despite desperately wanting to move forward. 

Nervously you wring your hands and let out a deep sigh. “Uhm, I just keep picturing him.” You try to keep your voice neutral, try to not spit out that last word even though every part of you wants to. Kuvira stiffens beside you and coughs. “I want to but every time I close my eyes it’s images of them together.” 

“How does that make you feel, Kuvira?” 

“Honestly? Awful…” Kuvira quickly adds “but not angry or anything. I just feel awful because I’ve done this to her and us.” She has to add that she’s not angry. In the past, she was almost always angry, and she needs you to know she’s not mad at you. This is her fault, and she’s aware of that now. 

“From my understanding, your sex life was a bit complicated in the past. Kuvira you’ve told me that you’d withhold yourself as a form of punishment, is that correct?” She nods. “It seems like you used sex as a reward which is an unhealthy way to look at such an intimate activity. I think the two of you shouldn’t rush this and only do it once you fully trust Kuvira again.” 

You nod, not being able to look at either of them at the moment. You want to trust her and for the two of you to be happy and in love but no matter how hard you try you can’t step over that line. It’s terrifying and you're worried that once you finally do trust her again this peacefulness will disappear and be replaced with the animosity that once used to rule your relationship.

“Okay…” You say. Kuvira nods in agreement. The session continues much as it did before that question was asked. It’s a bit tense now and the hour passes on with forced replies up until the end. 

“I have some trust exercises. I want the two of you to practice for the next couple of weeks, maybe even months. You both need to be patient and understand that trust is a very hard thing to earn back and give to someone who’s deeply hurt you. The fact that both of you are still trying just shows how much you want to make this work.” 

She begins to write a list of things on her notepad before ripping off the page and handing it to you. Both of you lean forward to read over the list together as Dr. Hanika packs up for the day. 

Talk about your fears, be open, and accepting of what your partner has to say.

Look into each other's eyes for thirty seconds, try to work yourself up to three minutes.

Tell your partner why you love them.

Ask for what you need to do in order to gain Y/n’s trust again.

Have a calm conversation where you ask each other questions

Compliment each other

“Next week I’d like to do one on one sessions and the week after that we’ll do another couple's session. I’d like for the two of you to work on these until then. Remember to not rush this, it’s okay to take your time.” She shows herself out, softly shutting the door behind her. Silence falls as the two of you anxiously re-read the words. 

“Should we do one now?” Kuvira asks. You shrug and softly set the piece of paper on the coffee table. 

“I guess? But I don’t know which one to start with. I mean there’s so many.” Kuvira rakes a hand through her hair and sighs. She looks over it again, that top one scares Kuvira, she doesn’t know if she wants to hear your fears or tell you hers. 

“Number two looks easy, we could try that?” And so you do. The both of you twist around on the couch until you are directly facing each other, knees touching as you mentally psych yourself up. “Thirty seconds isn’t too long.” 

You nod and take a deep breath before looking up and locking eyes with Kuvira. The first few seconds it seems easy and you feel silly for getting worked up at the prospect but as time ticks on you start to see why she listed it in the first place. 

Prolonged eye contact is intimate. Staring into Kuvira’s eyes for this long makes you feel bare and you quickly realize how much you don’t like that. Ripping your eyes away at the 25 seconds mark, you tense up. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“No it’s fine, it’s okay.” Kuvira hesitates before placing a hand on your shoulder and offering a comforting squeeze. “It’s gonna take some time, I understand.” She wishes it didn’t, she wishes it didn’t pain you to simply look at her for only thirty seconds. But she swallows that down and offers you a reassuring smile. 

“Thank you,” you say, you don’t even realize the iron grip you had on your ankles during the attempt and release them with a shaky sigh. “We’ll get there, right?” 

“Right.” 

You mess up four days later. Continuing with the eye contact exercises you work your way up to thirty-five seconds which feels like such a victory. You try to compliment her cooking, and she compliments the way your garden is coming along. It’s going so well and you're so tired of this that you go too fast too soon and you have no one else to blame but yourself. 

Both of you have a glass of wine with dinner which leaves you slightly buzzed but not tipsy. When you're getting ready for bed your eyes follow Kuvira’s legs that are starting to lose some of their definition.

She’s wearing a pair of shorts due to the recent heat with a tank top and suddenly that desire you’ve tried to ignore these past few weeks comes rearing up with no control. And so you sit on the bed with your knees tucked underneath you and grab Kuvira’s hand as she goes to grab the covers to pull back. She looks at you with furrowed brows as you pull her closer until she’s sitting on the bed as well. 

In her mind, she thinks that maybe you want to practice eye contact again but is left in a state of shock when you place your lips against her own. Her breath hitches when your hands go to cradle her face as you shuffle closer. Kuvira desperately wants to kiss you back but knows she can’t, so she gently pushes you away, you reluctantly let her. 

Panting, you ask “don’t you want to?” 

“Of course I do but Y/n are you ready? Dr. Ha-” 

“I’m ready, I promise,” you place a gentle kiss on her jaw, a place you know she loves. She lets out a shaky sigh. “I want you Kuvira, please.” And fuck, who’s she to deny you when you say please? So Kuvira gently grips your chin and presses her lips against your own. She doesn’t push you and leads like she used to so you thread your fingers through her hair and tug, eliciting a moan from your lover. 

You climb onto her lap as you begin to pick up the pace and gently tug on her lower lip with your teeth. Kuvira wraps her arms around your waist, her hands resting on your ass to keep you close. That heat that you’ve missed begins to pool within you, your whole body feels like it’s been lit with desire and you don’t want that feeling to ever leave. 

When Kuvira squeezes your ass, ripping a moan out of you it gives her the perfect opportunity to prod her tongue in your mouth. Your tongues meld together in a way that shoots right down to your core, it feels so right, so hot and maybe your therapist was wrong about waiting. 

When Kuvira goes to pull away she sucks on your tongue and slowly lets go of it. You both look into each other's eyes as you pant before Kuvira attaches her lips to your neck. Tilting your head to the side you breathe out her name as she bites down on that spot that drives you up the wall. 

The moan that leaves your lips is sure to wake the neighbors. Kuvira feels smug about it. Let them all know how good she can make you feel. When she pulls away she stops to admire her handiwork and smirks at the big purple hickey that could be seen from across a room. She leaves open mouth kisses up your neck and your jaw, before pulling you back into a bruising kiss.

You both make out for who knows how long, you just know that you want to feel every part of her after such a long time. The kiss is fiery and full of long contained passion that’s bursting at the seams. You only pull away for a moment to breathe before pulling her back in, not being able to take a second away from her lips. At some point, you push Kuvira down onto the bed and lay your body against hers. 

You make sure not to fully put all your weight on her, placing a hand down above her head as neither of you pulls away from the other. Her hands trace up and down your sides, fingertips skimming the tops of your breasts in a teasing manner that has you grinding down for any type of friction. 

You make yourself pull away from her, wanting to finally feel her body like you dreamed of. The sight before you has you groaning, her hair is a mess, spread out across the pillows and her cheeks are flushed. Kuvira’s lips are bruised, and she stares at you with eyes so dark with lust it feels like they're swallowing you whole. 

“Beautiful…” You whisper, Kuvira continues to pant as she watches you. Your hands slide down her body, feeling at the muscles that are just barely there before reaching the hem of her tank top. You slide a hand underneath, your fingers running across her stomach. 

Kuvira leans her hips up and glares. “Take it off,” she growls out impatiently. You grin as your fingers grip the ends of her shirt and pull it off, she leans up to help you and you toss it somewhere behind you. She’s not wearing any wrappings and spirits, she looks so beautiful. 

“Fuck, I want you so bad.” 

Her words seem to snap something into place that was askew this whole time. Suddenly painful images flash through your mind, ones you’ve tried so hard to bury. 

Baatar’s above her as he takes one of her nipples into his mouth with that sickening grin. She moans out his name as a hand reaches up to grip his stupid hair. Kuvira arches her back in pleasure as his other hand trails down to her clothed sex.

Next thing you know you’re jumping off of her and scrambling off the bed as a pained whimper escapes your lips. Kuvira bolts up, confusion written on her face before she sees tears begin to fall. Her face drops at the sight. “Y/n…” 

You shake your head, not being able to talk for fear of letting out some kind of ugly sound before rushing off to the bathroom where you empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. You stay seated on the floor with the bathroom door locked as you cry into your hands. 

The next morning you can only maintain eye contact for ten seconds. 

One step forward, two steps back.

#kuvira #tgt #kuvira x reader #kuvira/reader #kuvira fanfic #lok #lok fanfic #legend of korra

[marksinn]

Passion Project: Inspiration

I don’t think I’m starting at the beginning with this post. Keep your eyes peeled for later posts that explain what I’m doing and why.

After a month of thinking about, sketching and painting designs, I have finally done something. Essentially, recently watching two films has pushed me into action, and a part of me is ashamed to admit it. There isn’t a word count or any typesetting to curtail my thoughts here, so strap in.

When I created this brief I figured I’d draw a million wee skateboards, colour a few of them in, then fling my favourites into Adobe illustrator and make them look good. From there I would take the 5 best up to the skatepark and ask some of the patrons there which designs stood out to them. Next, I would adapt the three front-runners and create sweet PhotoShop mockups that would show what my designs would look like as skateboards. If I had the time, inclination or money by the end of the project, I would have the design laid onto a real skateboard (I’ve been looking to buy a new one for some time) and then be proud of myself.

So I’ve drawn some wee skateboards. Then I started upscaling the designs onto the floorboards of my loft:

This was an exercise to let me see how small things need to be adapted to be blown up. Skateboards can have any level of detail that you like on them, I hadn’t considered this until I was trying to draw a semi-perfect triangle for the traffic cone, or until I was using chalk to recreate four cubes. It’s also been fun to work with different media on chipboard - I have learned that most kinds of pencil, paint, chalk and charcoal do not like being used on chipboard. Decorating paint, however, has no such issues. Thanks, Dulux!

And so, with a few of these under my belt, I decided to try some digital designs. So I jumped into Illustrator and totally ignored my sketchbook, coming up with three designs that were all inspired by the day I had just had. The top design, I’ll focus on last, for reasons that will become apparent (unless you follow me on Instagram, where you’ll already know that it’s an absolute hit, with over 19 likes already!). I was told by a guy at the skatepark that he likes decks with very basic designs, just a colour or two, nothing overly detailed. Another skater told me that he often likes the basic wood background with one small emblem or sticker just beside the wheels.

The duo-tone design felt nice, I’m usually one for over-complicating things. I definitely have an attitude of “If there’s more in it, there’s a greater chance someone will find something they like”. The first colour choice put my girlfriend in the mind of a hand-bag she had seen photographed in the arms of Carrie Fisher - it was designed to look like a Prozac pill. So I changed the colours up, and added the separating black lines and textures to give it some subtle character. I then went full meta with the Minimal design. And, if I’m being honest, I’m incredibly happy with how it looks like a wee character. Expect to see that making a comeback in the very near future. But the top design is what really got me going. 

I’ve recently been watching...

...Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse, and have been loving Miles Morales’ multiple hobbies of graffiti, mixing beats and saving his neighbourhood from a variety of dangers. 

I then went to the cinema to see In The Heights, telling the tale of the Latin community during a blackout in North Manhattan. I found myself wrapped up in the romance, tribulations and music of the cast, and was felt oddly proud of Lin Manuel Miranda - who wrote this as a stage-musical while he was in college, had a modicum of success with it, then went on to create Hamilton, one of the most important musicals of our time. With the success of that particular show taking the entire world by storm, he was given the opportunity to make his old, relatively only semi-popular play into a blockbuster film. You can’t help but be inspired by someone like that.

I often find towards the end of a film I’m inspired by the characters’ journeys: be that from zero to hero, from lonely to loved or from rags to riches. Then I walk out and carry on with my normal life doing normal things. And as the hero of the story’s dreams all came true in the closing minutes (sorry for the spoiler, but it’s a musical, they rarely end in despair), a thought floated across my mind:

I’m utterly sick of being inspired

Now, to my credit, I did figure out in the car home that ‘tired’ would be a far more fitting and rhythmic word to use in this sentence, but this was a mentality that I found resonated really strongly with me. I’m very good at being inspired, I think most people are. We hear stories of people starting their own business, achieving some sporting brilliance or overcoming a personal hurdle and we say “Wow, isn’t that inspiring?” or

“It really inspires you to go out and make a difference!” or

“They are such an inspirational speaker!”

Then we go off about our day, not acting on the inspiration, and, for the most part, remaining uninspired. So I decided to act. 

I did some very quick research (/acquiring of images of graffiti) in order to get the right shapes and textures to create a spray paint effect in Illustrator. I did some very quick research (/confirming the colours) of South American flags, taking the blue and red used in flags of the home nations of Miles Morales from Spider-Man and Usnavi from In The Heights. And I created the top design.

YES! I had been inspired and I had drawn a wee picture to show that - I had acted on my inspirations!

Then I looked to my left and spotted three, blank skate decks that I had bought on a whim from Re:Ply (a wonderful wee company who do a great deal of charity work supplying boards to people who need them, selling boards to people who can afford them, and for a very reasonable fee, providing unusable decks to people who want to use them for artistic purposes). I realised I hadn’t acted on my inspiration, I had just drawn a few pictures of skateboards with the eventual aim of PhotoShopping them onto other pictures of skateboards.

So I took myself...

... into the city centre with a shoddily prepared speech: “I’m looking for some cheap, small cans of spray paint. I’ve no idea what I’m doing, or if I’ll be good at it, so don’t want to invest too much into this.” Hiding behind this self-deprecating shield I barged into multiple art-, pound- and model-shops and pleaded with the staff to help a young idiot out. Amazingly, a very kind shop assistant pointed me in the direction of Fat Buddha, a clothes shop I’d always ignored as it seemed a bit to “...” for me. I don’t know what it seemed, but I knew it wasn't my kind of shop. Happy to prove me wrong, the guys in there were super helpful and they helped me buy my first cans of spray paint. 

Now I’d spent money...

... and as a skinflint, that meant I had to get use out of my purchases. I had tricked myself into being inspired. Inspiration led me to the drawing, inspiration had led me to buy decks and the paint, now inspiration had to make me spray paint.

I’ll stop yammering on now. Essentially, I had planned on creating some analogue designs then digitising them (I’m guessing I should do a post on my brief, yeah? Might just upload the PDF to save me talking more), but then I found that I was doing the complete opposite. Genuinely accidentally. I had played with a few typefaces from various websites to get fonts that represented the ideas I wanted. The top one was semi-stolen (I can’t use the word ‘inspired’ any more in this post) from the end credits of In The Heights. The larger font is something of a nod to inspirational quotes you see on Facebook or on glittery frames in B&M.

I printed those out and cut them into stencils (very impressed that my digital boards have been drawn to a workable scale, thanks Maths). And after putting down a tack-layer (GRAFFITI JARGON (I think)) I sprayed the whole lot in blue.

Next, I tried to get a little fancy. Using cardboard blockers to create straight lines I added stars* (borrowed from the Puerto Rican flag) and made the bottom stripes vaguely reminiscent of America’s Old Glory.

I peeled the lettering off, and I’d done it. I may have to explain the overtly-negative inspirational quote to people, but to me it’s a clear sign that there’s no point in just being inspired, and that’s all I wanted.

A weight I didn’t know I was carrying was lifted from my shoulders. The plan was to possibly end up with a self-designed skateboard. And now I have one.

*Yes, I know they’re crosses.

#pp_hncgd1 #allhandsondecks #skateboard

[elsanna-shenanigans]

April Contest Submission #22: Lake Town Sunrise

Words: ca. 3,800 Setting: modern Lemon: no CW: loneliness, moving, high schoolers, mild angst, language

If anyone had asked Anna what she felt about moving halfway across the country to a tiny place called Lake Town during the fourth month of her senior year, well — she would have lied and said she didn’t mind at all. But no one had, so she didn’t have to lie to anyone. Not even herself. And she hated the move.

Anna had no choice in the matter but the seventeen year-old felt like she had no right to complain to her beloved grandfather, who had sacrificed his entire retirement life to raise her from an infant. If he wanted to move, there should be nothing holding him back. But Anna had to admit she wished he’d waited a few more months. Just a few more months and Anna would graduate and be out of his hair. On her own.

Until then, Anna was adjusting to an entirely new life in a new place with new people and new schoolwork. The piles of catch-up homework were her worst nightmare. She didn’t like to have bad grades so she was devoting all of her energy to her classes in an effort not to disappoint herself. As a result, she hadn’t had the time or energy to make a single friend from November to March, and as a social person, the loss of friendship was starting to drive her crazy. Nobody back home even returned her texts anymore; they’d completely moved on and Anna was stuck by herself in a town with only a lake she had yet to even visit, just trying to keep her head above water.

Just because she hadn’t made any friends, however, didn’t mean she hadn’t picked out a couple people from her classes she’d love to be friends with. One girl stood out to her in particular. She was in Anna’s writing class and they often paired up when the teacher required it. Her name was Elsa and she had the prettiest long white-blonde hair Anna had ever seen; usually worn in a braid or a ponytail. Every once in a while she let it loose in gentle waves; those were Anna’s favorite days.

Elsa was a quiet student, never talking with anyone around her. Anna noticed she usually had a sketchbook open and a pencil rhythmically scratching away. She’d give anything to know what Elsa was always drawing, but she couldn’t stare too long or the blonde would eventually glance up and catch her eye, causing them both to look away quickly, blushing.

Yesterday Elsa hadn’t come to school and Anna had found herself rather disappointed. She always looked forward to English class but without the other girl to pay attention to, Anna had stared at the clock, willing the hands to move faster. Was Elsa the only reason she enjoyed this class? They had barely had a complete conversation beyond relevant English topics. Still, Anna found herself begging the fates to let her see that sketchbook when she walked through the door to room 37b today.

A sigh of relief escaped her lungs when Anna rounded the corner and saw Elsa at the desk beside hers, legs crossed, focused entirely on the pencil meeting her paper. Anna approached; Elsa looked up and smiled when she saw who was there.

“Hi, Anna!”

“Hey,” she smiled back. “I missed you yesterday.”

“Oh yeah,” blonde eyebrows softened, “My grandma was a bit under the weather so I had to stay home and take care of her.”

“You live with your grandma?” Anna asked, pleasantly surprised.

“Yeah, it’s just the two of us.”

“Me too,” Anna encouraged, “but with my grandfather.”

“Oh wow! I don’t think I’ve met anyone else here in the same boat.” Elsa closed her sketchbook as Anna took a seat.

“It’s definitely a unique experience,” Anna laughed. She watched the fluorescent lights glimmer in Elsa’s eyes when she nodded in response.

Anna’s heart raced quietly while she pulled out her English notebook and folder. There were still a few minutes left before class began. Maybe she could think of something else to say before the chance was gone. But it was Elsa who took another stab at conversation first.

“What are you doing for spring break?” Elsa asked.

“Oh!” Anna smiled, excited. “Ever since moving here in the winter I’ve been drowning in either snow or catch-up homework, so I’m finally gonna take a break in the nice weather and see what this famous lake is all about! I’ve never even gotten…” she trailed off at the sight of Elsa’s grimace. “What?”

“Sorry,” Elsa said, “it’s just - you don’t want to be anywhere near the lake during spring break.”

“I mean I know it’s gonna be crowded—”

“You don’t understand. That lake is the only interesting thing in a 200 mile radius. Everybody in the entire state who can’t afford a real vacation will be swarming the town - especially the lake. All fucking week.”

“Oh.” Anna sighed, crestfallen. She had hoped to spend some time with her new classmates at the lake; they were still strangers to her after all this time. She had thought maybe she’d even make a friend there. But not now. “Wait, where does everybody go then? If the whole town gets taken over?”

“Well, some have to stick around to run the shops and everything, but most everybody scatters off to vacations of their own.” Elsa explained.

“And what about you?”

“My grandma doesn’t go anywhere. I’ll be around.”

Class started abruptly and the conversation was cut off. Anna didn’t hear a word of the lecture, as her thoughts swirled around her head. Thoughts of the forbidden lake, of people who got to experience “real” vacations, but mostly of Elsa. Elsa had talked to her for so long today - and seemed to enjoy it! Anna felt light and airy, like something was trying to lift her heart right out of her chest. Was this what it felt like, to be on the verge of friendship? Anna hadn’t even experienced these butterflies the entire time she dated Kristoff back home.

Wait. Did she have feeling-feelings for Elsa? Was that - was that allowed? Would Elsa ever —

The bell rang.

Everybody scrambled to pack their backpacks up, except for Elsa and Anna. Elsa jotted something down on a corner of a page in her sketchbook, then tore it out as Anna watched.

“Here,” Elsa held out the ripped corner. “That’s my address. Meet me there after school today when break starts. I wanna show you something.”

Anna took the paper and watched dumbfounded as Elsa left the classroom. Shaking her head out, she looked at the address. It was a five minute walk from her house.

When she flipped the piece of paper over in her hand, the other side (probably unintentionally) had part of a sketch. It was a person, cut off just below the shoulders. Anna stared in disbelief at her own freckled face smiling up at herself in graphite.

***********************************

Anna ran all the way home, making her 12 minute walk in 8 minutes. She found her grandpa sitting in his chair, working on a puzzle. Huffing and puffing from exertion, Anna made her way through the living room to the hallway, saying, “Hey, Gramps,” as she passed.

“In a hurry, child?” the old man replied, glancing up briefly from his puzzle.

“I made a friend, I’ll explain in a minute!” Anna called out as she jogged farther into the house.

She reached her room and threw her backpack to the ground before stripping off her clothes and staring at her closet, hoping something would jump out at her. Her chest heaved as the cool air helped dry the clammy skin of her torso. What was she supposed to wear to Elsa’s house for the first time, where she was going to quote-unquote ‘show her something?’ Was it something casual, something fancy? After a moment she settled on a cute tie dye t-shirt and black jeans. It was spring break after all, she should be able to wear something comfortable.

Anna glanced at her signature twin braids in the mirror. She pulled the hair ties out and ran her fingers through the locks, letting it fall apart into structured waves. Yep, that’s cute! she thought.

On her way back out through the house, Anna told her grandfather she was going to a new friend’s house, and that he should order a pizza for dinner. He had no complaints, but reminded her to be home by 10. Soon, Anna was out the door, headed in the direction of Elsa’s house.

This time, she walked deliberately slowly. Anna didn’t want to be out of breath when she got to Elsa’s house, nor did she want to get there earlier than Elsa might expect. Anna had rushed herself rather hard ever since that final bell rang, but now as she passed houses she had never seen and heard birds enjoying the spring afternoon, she had a few moments to think about what had happened earlier. Precisely: the conversation, the realization, and the invitation.

Just yesterday she was silently disappointed that Elsa was missing from class, and now they’d had a nice interaction, Anna thought she might have a crush on her, and Elsa invited her over to her house! It was all so sudden and exciting. Confusing, but exciting.

Do I really like her? Anna wondered. Well, comparing her feelings to what she used to feel around Kristoff was pretty telling. She thought Kristoff was cute and nice, and she liked how it made her feel when he told her how much he liked her. But maybe that wasn’t what love feels like. Maybe it’s more like what Elsa makes her feel… comfort, acceptance, longing, excitement. Not to mention how attractive she was, with her gorgeous hair and perfect face and shining blue eyes, bluer than anything Anna had ever seen…

Fuck.

Anna might have a little bit of a crush on Elsa. In fact, it might be huge.

But could Elsa ever feel the same way? They were both girls, so Anna felt it was unlikely Elsa had ever had a similar thought toward Anna. However, Anna felt the piece of paper in her pocket. The one with the drawing on the back. Why did Elsa draw her? Was this the only one and it happened to be on the exact page and corner she tore out? Or did she sketch Anna a lot?… Is that why sometimes when Anna was watching her draw, Elsa would glance up directly at her — because Anna was actually her subject?

She sighed. There was so much to think about all of a sudden. She almost wanted to go back to obsessing over her homework and ignoring everybody. But then she saw a mailbox with Elsa’s address and her heart rate took off. That was a normal reaction, right? Totally, for sure.

Anna wiped her clammy palms off on her jeans and consciously corrected her posture as she approached Elsa’s house. It was painted a nice sky blue, with navy shutters. There was an old car in the driveway, which disappeared past the other side of the building. In the front yard was a big pine tree looming over the house, at least three times as tall. As she approached, Anna noticed Elsa sitting at the base of the pine tree, under its canopy created by trimming the lowest branches. She waved from her shady spot when she noticed Anna.

“Hey!” Elsa called out. “You came!”

Anna jogged the last few steps and ducked under the branches to join Elsa’s shady dwelling. “Of course I came!” She grinned widely and plopped down across from the blonde, folding her legs into a criss-cross style. “This tree is amazing,” she remarked, looking up through its branches, barely able to see the bright sky filtering through them.

“Thanks,” Elsa patted the trunk she was leaning her back against, “she’s a good one. Great for quiet afternoons. But this isn’t what I wanted to show you.” She stood up, grabbing her sketchbook and brushing off her pants. “Follow me?”

We made our way across the lawn, past the car, and followed the driveway around the side of Elsa’s house. The drive stretched back past half of the small backyard, all the way to a strangely tall garage. It was wide enough for one car but was more like two-stories tall. Maybe a past owner had it built especially for a big vehicle or boat.

We stopped at the regular service door beside the big garage door and Elsa grabbed the handle, her fingers lightly trembling as they reached out. She was nervous to show Anna whatever was inside. Anna was racking her brain trying to guess what it could be. A boat for the lake they can’t go to? A weirdly tall truck? A collection of four wheelers? A quiet place perfect to trick Anna into a serial killer’s lair? No, of course not that one, jeez.

The door opened, the lights flicked on.

Anna’s jaw dropped.

She was wrong about everything.

Inside the garage, the entire space was transformed into a secret hideout of some kind. It like walking into a crazy treehouse but within the walls of a garage. There was a structure made out of lumber, expertly crafted together to form multiple separate areas as well as an elaborate winding staircase/ramp combo that wrapped around the walls, leading up to a partial upper level. All of the woodwork was bright blue with handpainted details which gave it all a realistic ice effect. Where the ceiling was visible there were tinted skylights letting in natural light, bathing everything in a blue glow.

To furnish the hangout, Elsa had a desk she clearly used for homework and art, a futon, multiple bean bag chairs, and who knows what else on the upper level. Anna reached out and laid a hand on Elsa’s arm. “This…” she shook her head out in disbelief. “This is not what I was expecting you to show me - but it’s incredible!”

“Thank you,” Elsa blushed slightly as she dipped her head down in gratitude.

“How did you do this? You made it all yourself?” Anna asked, touching the glossy surface of the painted wood beam closest to her.

Elsa scratched her neck, “Well, when I was little I always dreamed of having an ice palace, a place to get away from my daily life. I love my grandmother but sometimes I just needed to be a kid. As soon as we learned shop in middle school, I knew what I had to do. I asked permission to upgrade the garage and beyond that, my grandma doesn’t know or care what I do out here. She’s never seen it.” Elsa laughed. “So I’ve just been creating this space for myself over the years. I finally finished it last year with the paint job and everything. Oh, and I made the skylights myself by cutting holes through the roof and installing windows, weatherproofing the cracks. That was the hardest part of the whole garage.”

Anna smiled in disbelief. This quiet girl had a whole universe of creativity inside her head, and when the subject was something she was passionate about, she wasn’t quiet at all! Anna had never really been friends with an introvert, and apparently she had been missing out big time.

“You are…. so cool,” Anna finally said. “This is amazing!” She spun around, walking farther into the ice palace, looking up as the homemade skylights twisted in circles. After a minute, she got too dizzy and fell, landing on a beanbag with a thwump.

Elsa laughed and joined her on the nearest beanbag. “You really think so?”

“Of course!” Anna said.

“You’re the only person who I’ve ever invited here. The only one who’s ever seen it.”

“Wait, what?” Anna’s thoughts halted. “How is that possible?”

Elsa rubbed her arm anxiously, “Well, I… I don’t really have many friends. Or any friends, really. This place is my safe space, where I can get away from the world and truly be myself. Here I can read and create and relax, and nobody is here to judge me. I’ve never minded being alone.”

“So,” Anna tilted her head, trying not to come off as rude. “Then why did you invite me?”

Elsa’s cheeks bloomed with pink. “You’re the first person I’ve ever wanted to invite.”

Anna’s expression softened as Elsa continued, “I feel safe around you. Even though we didn’t talk much before today, I’ve wanted to get to know you ever since you first walked into my English class.”

Anna’s heart soared. “I’ve felt the same way about you. I lost all my friends when I moved… and as an extrovert, I struggled with that a lot. But I had so much homework to catch up on, I couldn’t find the time to reach out to anyone here. So instead I cut myself off from making friends and buried myself in class work. But the whole time I’ve lived here, I couldn’t help but feel drawn to you. I wished and wished and wished that you would be my friend, but it felt like I waited too long and I’d be stuck alone for the rest of high school.”

Elsa held her hand out for Anna to take. It felt so smooth against Anna’s palm, she never would’ve believed the hard work these hands had been through if she didn’t see it with her own eyes.

“Well I think it’s safe to say we’re friends now,” Elsa said.

“Absolutely,” Anna agreed. “Good luck getting rid of me at this point!”

*******************************

A couple of hours passed before Anna even checked the time. “I should probably be getting home,” she sighed. “Could we do this again tomorrow?”

Elsa nodded enthusiastically. “I’d like that. And actually, I was wrong before, about the lake. Everybody else’s spring break doesn’t start until Monday so the droves won’t be hitting town until tomorrow night. The lake would be pretty deserted if we got there really early.”

“Yes!” Anna made a fist.

“I mean like sunrise-early.”

“Yikes. Okay. No problem!” Anna wasn’t a morning person, especially when she had the choice to sleep in, but this was a great exception.

A sunrise on the lake with her new favorite person? Sounded like a dream come true!

Anna didn’t even dream that night. She woke a minute before her 3:30 alarm and sprang out of bed. Flipping on lamps here and there, she went to the kitchen to prepare some food. She made an egg scramble which her grandpa could reheat when he woke up, and then she made more sandwiches than she’d ever made at one time, leaving two in the fridge for his lunch, and taking the rest with her to share with Elsa later.

When her lunch pack was filled with ice and sandwiches, Anna went back to her room to write a note for her grandpa and change into her swimsuit. She didn’t know if there would be any getting in the water at this lake on an early spring morning, but she was ready just in case. Then she put a light green t-shirt on over the swimwear, along with dark blue jogging pants and a black and white tie dye hoodie. She probably clashed but Anna preferred to wear lots of different colors, not caring if they went well together.

A bit of a long walk later, and Anna arrived at the street corner Elsa told her about. It was right at the lake. Anna set her lunch bag on the pavement and leaned against the street lamp pole. She felt in her pocket for that ripped piece of sketchbook paper, gently running her fingers over its edges. Before long, Elsa approached in the dim lamp light.

“Good morning,” Elsa said in a quiet voice. The way it sounded so …intimate made Anna’s stomach butterflies go for a loop.

“Morning, Elsa.” Anna smiled, picking up her bag. Elsa led the way toward the lake where they found an empty pier. They walked all the way to the end and sat on the edge, dangling their legs over the dark lake. It was about a ten foot drop beneath their feet to the surface of the water, where it gently rippled just for them.

They sat quietly in the darkness until the faintest tinge of light started appearing along the horizon. It was a gentle pale blue, barely discernible from the rest of the sky at first. Slowly, it gained more light, moment by moment. Soon the light blue was joined by pale yellow, then peach. When a brilliant pink appeared on wispy clouds, Anna couldn’t help but feel it was a metaphor for how quickly and beautifully her friendship with Elsa had bloomed.

Her feelings for Elsa developed like a brightening dawn.

It was light enough now to see each other if either girl dared to turn. Anna felt for the paper in her pocket and slowly pulled it out.

“Elsa?”

“Hmm?” Elsa answered, still staring at the pink clouds, now turning orange.

“Do you draw everyone in class?”

“What do you mean?” Elsa asked.

“When you’re sketching in your notebook, do you draw our classmates? Or anyone in particular?” Anna’s heart was beating so loud she was sure Elsa could hear it.

“Oh. Um,” Elsa hesitated. “I don’t draw a lot of different people. Only the ones who mean something to me.” She glanced sideways at Anna. “Why?”

“This piece of paper you wrote your address on…” Anna held it in her hand. Elsa’s head turned to look. “I couldn’t help but notice this drawing on the back. You probably didn’t mean—”

Elsa swiftly took the paper from Anna’s fingertips and gasped when she saw the sketch. “Anna, I can explain.”

“Hey, don’t worry,” Anna placed a calming hand on Elsa’s. “You don’t have to explain anything.”

“I don’t?” Elsa asked, her face visibly red even in the low light.

“No.” Anna said. “I was just making sure I understood how you felt, before…” she trailed off.

“Before?”

Anna reached up and touched Elsa’s chin with her thumb and first finger. She gently tilted Elsa’s head as her eyes asked an important question. Elsa’s breath shook as she nodded slightly. Anna leaned in sweetly, but with purpose, as she let her lips softly brush against Elsa’s. They both let out a nervous breath before closing in again. This time, Anna could really feel the connection between their lips. Anna’s eyes fluttered closed.

She no longer needed to see the picture perfect sunrise, for the colors bursting in her heart and behind her eyelids were even more beautiful.

#elsanna #submission #April 2021 contest #prompt: break