#in my head: i just need to put them on the canvas and not forget what they look like while i'm doing it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cloudysleepingzone · 3 months

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Heya^^ could we possibly get some romantic hcs about dazai, atsushi, and possibly fyodor with a artist s/o, they sometimes doodle on unimportant papers when the meetings are way too boring for them , and sometimes when they have free time they draw their lover in their sketchbook, maybe a painting or two of their lover <3 anyways love your writing and don't forget to hydrate! Have a wonderful day or night!!

BSD with an Artist S/O

Decided to add Chuuya and Tecchou due to a very similar request!

Contents : Dazai, Atsushi, Fyodor, Chuuya and Tecchou x Reader (separate), gender neutral reader (they/them used), fluff, suggestive for Dazai's part and sorta Tecchuu? Not really. Pet Names.

Dazai Osamu

Doesn't matter what your drawing, he's watching.

Can you blame him though? He just loves watching his lover just doing something they enjoy!

If you draw him he will start acting like a dramatic prince for a solid 10 minutes.

"(Name), draw me like one of your French girls~"

You sit quietly at your desk, the surface covered with your sketchbook and a handful of pencils and pens. "Belllaaa~!" Though your peace is interrupted by your loving boyfriend trying to get out of doing his job again. "What are you drawing beautiful?" He leans over you, his arms wrapping around you from behind as he props his chin on your shoulder. The sketchbook page had small doodles of the two of you, mostly just small cute doodles of holding hands, Dazai tilts his head slight to the side, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. "You know, if you need any ideas you could always draw us with less clothes~"

Atsushi Nakajima

Our sweet boy

He's so supportive of your work he loves seeing the look on your face when you make something your proud of

You draw him? Oh boy...he can't even form words

"You're getting even better sweetheart, you keep improving!"

Your a mess, your finger tips covered in different shades of blue and grey, just like the tip of your paintbrush. Atsushi was behind the canvas, laying comfortably on your shared bed with a soft smile on his lips. "Am I doing alright? I'm not moving too much?" He was doing an amazing job. A perfect job. "Your doing good sweetheart, I'm almost done". You've drawn him from memory plenty of times before, but it feels so much more romantic with him right in front of you. "You look really pretty when your focused..." He mumbles under his breath, even if your the one painting him, he's the one doing the most admiring <3

Fyodor Dostoevsky

To a non familiar eye he seems completely uninterested or even annoyed at your interests. But that's far from true

He adores your work though he sucks at showing it

Got a piece you're really proud of? Yep he's putting it in a fancy frame

You? Drawing him? Aren't you just a sweetheart...

It was already late at night, the curtains had been drawn and you were currently in the shower. Meanwhile your husband Fyodor was already dressed in something more comfortable and was waiting for his dear. Fyodors finger tips gently run over the cover of your current sketch book, which laid on top of a desk in your shared bedroom. He picks up the sketchbook, flipping through the pages slowly before a certain page catches his eye, a page seemingly dedicated to just him. His normally cold and hard gaze softens a bit at the sight, some being full line art and color and others being simple messy doodles. His admiring is interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening. "Sweetheart what are you doing?". Your husband gently closes your sketchbook, setting it down onto the expensive hard work surface. "Just admiring your work my dear..."

Chuuya Nakahara

New art supplies? He's buying it. You want a new set of expensive as hell paint brushes? Pfft, pocket change.

If you even mention getting into a new form of art he's already handing you his credit card without another question.

"It looks pretty already doll, make sure to show me when it's done yea?"

Like Fyodor, he puts his favorite pieces in fancy frames <3

You walk into Chuuya's at home office, not bothering to knock (not like he minds) "Chuuya, I finished that painting you wanted to see!" He slowly turns his chair around, a small smirk on his face, completely ignoring his task of sorting through files for now. "Let me see it babe". You turn the canvas around, showing him your paintwork you've spent a few weeks on. He stand from his seat, walking up to you and placing a gloved hand on your cheek, planting a loving kiss on the other. "It looks beautiful sweetheart, just like you. I'll be hanging it up." Chuuya had already started a small selection of your art that was displayed in fancy gold and silver frames over a fireplace, in the style as if they were million dollar paintings. To him they may as well be, to him your art is priceless. Your priceless.

Tecchou Suehiro

You could make something weird and he'll like it

He will just silently watch you draw whatever, doesn't matter what.

"That looks good sweetheart"

Drawing him? God I don't know if his heart can take something so sweet!

Here you are, sitting on your boyfriend's back while he does sit ups. It was actually pretty normal at this point. The only sounds in the room was the huffs coming from Tecchuu throat and the sounds of pencil scratching against paper. "Hm...maybe I should draw you like this, it would be pretty good anatomy practice" you quickly sketch up some messy line art you can fix later, shifting slightly to show Tecchuu. "Huff Looks good" Despite the slight strain in his muscles he's able to respond pretty easily. I get up from your seat on his back, letting him get up with a groan before stretching his arms. Moving your pencil back to the paper, you continue to look from your boyfriend to the paper back and forth. "This is a bit better" you your sketch book around, it was just a simple sketch of his muscular figure but it was like fine art in his eyes. "You've been improving a lot haven't you?"

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thisismeracing · 11 months

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GET OUT mick having you suck his fingers to mimic a bj? Ima need you to make a drabble out of that bc YOU STARTED IT. YOU PLANTED THAT SEED JUST NOW ILY

HAHAHAHA 🤪🤭🫡 ily too, nonny

Warnings: +18; mentions of oral sex; heavy make out seassion; minors DNI!

A low moan passed between Mick’s open mouth, and Yn smiled. They were on Mick’s living room couch, and though it all started with an innocent movie night, Yn now had half of her body draped over his while she kissed, and bit Mick’s collarbone.

“Schatz,” he warned while his big hands found Yn’s waist and brought her to straddle him. She smiled wickedly and bit her lips. “Oh- fuck,” Mick lets out yet another low moan before letting his thoughts win the battle and holding Yn by the jaw.

He traces her upper lips, using his fingers as if her face was a canvas, though an already perfected piece of art. He was more like a curious admirer needing to touch and to feel it, to convince himself it was real, and that piece of art was sitting at his home. It was his.

Yn smiled, her lips now stretched and curved to show him her soft face. He smiled back, traced her lower lips and Yn did not think twice before opening her lips to him. Mick took the opportunity and slid his middle and pointer fingers inside. Her mouth was warm and Yn hollowed her lips when Mick accidentally slid it until her lips hit his knuckles.

“Mein Gott…” he breathed and Yn nodded, tightening her mouth around his digits while Mick started to slowly thrust them in and out. “You”re so dirty,” he teased and she held his forearm and shook her head without letting go of him. “My dirty girl,” and now she nodded.

Mick picked up his pace and his free hand found her boobs twisting and massaging it. Yn moaned and he could feel the vibrations on his hands, just like he could feel when her lips were wrapped around his cock. She instinctively started to grind on his crotch and Mick held her neck.

“You’re putting up such a beautiful show, that’s how you’re gonna blow me in a second? Eh? Gonna let me cum in your mouth?”

Yn twirled her tongue and moved her hips, and it was just the confirmation he needed to take his fingers off of her mouth and give her exactly what she wanted to suck.

I am ashamed to tell you guys that I wrote this listening to “my tears ricochet” 🤣😭😭😭 I opened Spotify and took the wave of inspiration that hit, I couldn't close the tumblr app (wrote it on my phone) and risk losing it all sorryyyyy lol

Anyways, hope you guys like it! Don’t forget to reblog and/or leave me a message if you do 💗🪩✨

taglist: @sachaa-ff @ferrariloverr @kenanlotus0 @mellowpizzapuppy @mickslover @dalsuwaha @formulakay3 @mishaandthebrits @iloveyou3000morgan @crimeshowjunkie @fdl305 @carojasmin2204 @chaoticevilbakugo @wondergirl101ks @smiithys @saintslewis @shhhchriss @f1kota

#millie writes smut #op: drabbles #millies inbox #anon #ms47 #mick schumacher smut #mick schumacher #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #mick schumacher x reader #f1 smut #f1 fandom #thots #kinda #blurbs

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whorediaries-09 · 1 month

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Hi! if you still taking requests I'd love to make another one about the love of my life, James Potter.

I know it might be super cliche but I was thinking about professor! James forgetting his lunch or maybe reader is a sweetheart who brings lunch to him and everyone at Hogwarts it's obsessed with them because they're sooo cute and they're like their cool school parents

Please and thank u, muak right to youuu.

ugghh this is so cute!! i loved writing this one!! i hope you like it!

labyrinth;

pairing- professor!james potter x professor!reader warning(s)- fluff. (let me know if i should add more) a/n- i literally changed a lot but it's low-key similar?? i'm sorry though i hope you understand, my brain could only come up with this.

little train.

' you would break your back to make me break a smile you know how much I hate that everybody just expects me to bounce back '

'good morning students! i hope you've got your models ready for today.' you say, walking into the class. the curtains have been rolled up perfectly by your plethora of eager art students, who chant a good morning, staring at you as your steps fall into the classroom. they know you like to work with the sunlight.

they scramble around their canvases and models, the soles of their shoes rubbing against the newly polished tiles. they look at you with eager faces, waiting for your model to appear. you raise your hands, addressing them.

'okay so this the first class is for realism - which annoys a lot of people over here, i know. but everybody has to pass these few assignments okay? i've to send them for supervision to the higher authorities so that they can ensure i've put on the correct grades according to the quality of the work.'

'because unlike you, they don't care about the creativity,' the political science professor enters the classroom, wearing his dazzling white smile. the students turn their heads, watching him enter the room. among the few students who know both him and you, there's rumbling. and among those who know you, there's questions rising of the cause of the sudden rumbling.

'quieten down kids, no more talking. this is a very important class. you'll learn the basics and the importance of this branch of art. mr. potter,' you look him in the eye. he visibly tones down his raised arms and shoulders, 'i need you to bring me two tools and a canvas.' he nods.

james is sitting directly under the rays of the sun. they are golden, reflecting upon his beautiful dusky brown skin. it hits him in the eye, but he's still, letting you take your sweet time while you explain the theories and the basics of the art.

he likes how patiently you teach them the correct ways and methods while also consoling them by reminding them every other artist has a unique style and shouldn't be bound by some rules. you stay to teaching them the outlines of color theories, which couldn't be modified much when this art style was practiced.

he's also never felt this nervous and giddy. he's usually a very confident man, but within your presence, a few ties of his uptight confidence break, and all hell loses free. he's turns into a puddle right under your piercing gaze, which is unusual for a man like james potter. he would still remember the day you'd asked him to model for you. he'd gone home and giggled into the pillow like a high school high on hormones.

'hi, mr. potter,' you'd whispered behind him. he'd been talking to sirius. he'd been taken aback by your sudden appearance- and sirius' lack of reaction, considering he'd been sitting facing james.

he turned around, and by habit ruffled his already messy hair. he smiled, trying to hide the pleasant shock behind his eyes. he felt his cheeks warming up with the way you looked at him. sliding him a paper cup, you stood, twiddling with your thumbs.

'this is?-'

'chai! masala chai! consider it a bribe for the awkward question i'm about to ask.'

'nothing is awkward james, love. i think you'll be fine.' sirius said. he slipped his fingers within the crook of his jacket that had been hanging on the edge of the chair. he smiled, a mischievous uplift of his lips. 'but just in case,' he said, walking out of the room, leaving you and james alone. james gulped, following his friend's silhouette.

'so...'

'yeah, uhm so i was wondering whether you'd model for me? only if you're comfortable though!' james was sure the red hot blood rush into his cheeks was extremely was visible. he felt his nerves turn mush and stomach flip with giddiness.

'i don't particularly mind it no,' he said. he took the burning cup into his grip, taking a slow sip. he only hoped it wouldn't be too spicy.

'so you're up for it?' you asked. he saw the tension from your back literally lift up, and a glee float in your eyes.

'i am up for it,' he said taking another sip of the tea. 'but you need to tell me why me,' you rubbed the back of your head, laughing nervously.

'uhh... i think you've gorgeously complicated features which would allow me to teach my students with enthusiasm because i teach the best with complicated features. i don't mean it in a harsh way, i also think you're beautiful so...' he nodded letting your words sink into his brain and stop himself from taking you by your neck and press his lips onto yours.

'is it any good? the tea?' you asked, breaking the awkward tension and the lack of his response. you wondered whether you made him uncomfortable with your answer.

'it's perfect. the sweetness and the spiciness.'

it was not.

'okay so carefully outline your vision for the model, and let your brains take over your mind! this has been a boring class i realize but please submit your homework by the deadline so i'll suggest ways for improving your work-'

'-because this is extremely important for your grades students. now the kids over here who are also in my class, i'll deduct grades if you all don't take her words seriously.' james completed for you, cracking his back and rolling his shoulders. the students booed mockingly. one of them, a fiery person too raised her voice,

'you're barely serious in your own classes!' james knitted his eyebrows.

'are you questioning my abilities of teaching?'

'no, i'm not. i'm saying you're not serious in your own lessons sometimes- and you're a pretty much of a goofball yourself.'

'that's fine, i can be a goofball and be a good professor too. ms. grace, please mind your tone, or i'll be obliged to turn into an insufferable old prat.'

'okay come on let's not create an unnecessary drama over here, you have theatres and mr. pettigrew to help with that.' you said, trying to calm down bubbling waters. the students picked up their bags, walking away. yet again, leaving the both of you alone.

james helped you put on your coat. he wondered whether his part was done. he wondered why he cared so much about whether his part was done or not. the question lingered at the tip of his tongue before he spat it out.

'is my work done now?' he asks. you linger, your back faced towards him. he feels a wave of heat from your body crumple over his senses. you turn around, facing him. the remnants of the sun rays surround him, filtering out his outline. there's something in his eyes. a string of vulnerability you've never seen in his eyes. a string of vulnerability he's never felt within his.

'no.' you say. your breath is hot, which falls on his lips. he gulps, noticing how close you are. somehow it feels natural. in your piercing gaze he feels his beating heart stop. it's as if your features are one hell of a drug, reeking him into a spiral of things he's never felt before. your beauty is surreal, captured within his memories and his heart. he wishes he'd capture the way he sees you onto the canvas.

'are you bored of me, james?' you ask. you've never said his name before. it sets his senses on fire, a creeping hotness melting onto his nerves.

'no,' he says. he moves closer, his mouth so close to yours. he wants to touch them, get drunk upon the reminiscent taste he's never tasted before.

'are you sure, james?' you ask, your eyes falling onto his lips. he nods, unable to answer. in your eyes, he sees his portrait in a beauty he's never seen before. his fingers slips into yours, and he feels them.

and he wonders, when your fingers work on the canvas, how you conceive him, how you decipher him. all he's sure of is that he's the most beautiful when you portray him.

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

taglist - @reggieisfit @siriuslycaptainofthedawntreader @jamespottergf @eternallybipanicking @fictional-magic @iamgayforyourmom1510

(if you want to be tagged please send a request through my inbox.)

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

#q1wjames potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter smut #james potter fic #james potter fanfiction #marauders #harry potter fanfiction #the marauders #james potter #james #james potter x y/n #marauders era #james potter x you #dead gay wizards #the marauders era

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dc418writes · 4 months

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✨Pairing✨: softdark!assassin!Curtis Everettxblack!reader

Summary🪄: the mysterious man in the corner booth is gonna make you wish you stayed home

🚨: 18+ NO MINORS!!!, language, mentions of alcohol, mentions of adult happy fun times, allusion to reader being held against her will (so dubcon..?? Ish??? 🤷🏽‍♀️)

A/N🎤: hello☺️! This is my submission to the @secretswiftymarvelfan I Love You 3000 Writing Bonanza✨! Congrats again on 3000 followers👏🏾👏🏾!! I hope you - and everyone else who reads - like what I put together!

*DISCLAIMER!: although visual made by me via Canva, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest*

AU: assassin, Trope: one night only, Dialogue: “I’ll do whatever it takes to get what I want”

Taking a deep breath, you stand smoothing your white tennis skirt down against your thighs before making your way to the ridiculously handsome man your friends pushed you into talking to.

“Girl take a chance for once!”

“I-I don’t want to bother him. Plus I’m sure he already has someone,” you replied nervously holding your hands in your lap. From your quick glances his way, he seemed unimpressed with everything - and potentially everyone - around. Content and enjoying his solace.

“Well you won’t know unless you ask,” your other friend countered in a sing-song manner fluttering her newest lash extensions.

Now here you were nearly to the corner booth in the dimmest part of the bar with your fruity cocktail in hand as your pink, strappy heels tapped against the floor. The stranger’s eyes locked with yours as he sips his own glass tumbler half filled with a brown liquid. How his tongue peeks out to collect the small droplets left, paired with the corner of his mouth tilting in the slightest smirk, leaves an involuntary flutter in your lower abdomen that carries down into your core.

Your cheeks - and overall body - warm as you finally reach your destination. “H-Hi.”

He gently bows his shaved head, “Hello.”

“Sorry to bother you. M-My friends and I made this pact to try new things this year and mine is to walk up to a guy I’m attracted to since I don’t really do that so here I am…”

“I’m not surprised.” You feel your mood fall at his words and embarrassment swell in your chest. How foolish of you to think you could do this? That you had an ounce of sex appeal or confidence like those other girls you saw easily able to grab any man they wanted. It’s exactly why you stayed to yourself. Your ultimate fear of rejection keeping you rooted in your seat or at home.

“O-Oh?,” is all you can muster feeling even more stupid that you didn’t even have a solid retort.

“As gorgeous as you are, I’m sure you always have men coming up to you. No need for you to do any work,” he explains making a shy smile spread along your glossy lips and relief soothe the uneasiness of your stomach. He extends his hand to the seat next to him motioning for you to join him, which you gladly take with a quiet “thank you.”

“Truthfully, it’s my friends that get all the attention. Guys usually just walk past me to get to them.”

“Nothing against your friends, but sounds like those boys were idiots,” he firmly states before taking a last pull of his drink to finish it. The tic in his jaw as if he’s bothered by those other men even though he doesn’t know them. As if he’s annoyed at just their mere mention. “Then again, should probably thank em for allowing us to meet huh?”

At that, you seem to lose your train of thought immediately letting your eyes fall to your lap again so giddy from his words. A brief silence falls over your table, but it’s not awkward or uncomfortable in the slightest. Finally peeking up again, his ocean eyes - and overall expression - turn a bit softer, which doesn’t help the butterflies erupting in what feels like your whole body.

“Shit, sweetheart you got me forgetting my manners. Curtis,” he introduces in a deep drawl that sends tingles up your spine. Holding his hand out, you notice intricate, black ink along the back of his hand and knuckles - in a design you can’t exactly make out - that looks to extend all the way up his arm covered by his black long sleeve shirt. You feel guilty for it, but you let your mind wander to how far it exactly goes. To his solid chest? His, probably, perfectly sculpted back maybe? Across his firm pecs and down to his abs you could visibly make out through his shirt?

The longer your mind imagined, the more that itch to find out grew stronger. And when you placed your hand in his - noting just how much larger it was than yours, not to mention stronger - you knew you were done for.

“Y/N.”

•

It’s pitch black when you finally awake to the quiet room. The side of your face pressed into the vanilla bourbon scented pillow below you - the same one Curtis had you drooling, moaning, and pleading in majority of the night.

The way he wrung your body exhausted pulling orgasms one after the other - you honestly couldn’t remember the exact number from your brain turning into mush after the second - you’d think he created you. Molded you with his own hands and knew just where he hid that special spot inside you. Then again, maybe it was just from you being..well..out of commission for some time.

Slightly lifting your head, you finally notice you’re lying by yourself in his king sized bed. The sheets pulled up to cover your back and keep you warm.

Additionally, just how quiet it is around you as if you’re the only one there period.

“C-Curtis?,” you hoarsely call out hoping he just journeyed to the kitchen or even another room for a call. Having a house so extravagant, clearly he had to do something highly important that took most of his time.

But you’re met with silence, causing the once tired smile along your lips to falter.

You thought he really liked you. That he would’ve wanted to see you again sometime and maybe grow into something more. “That’s why they call it one night stand,” you mumble to yourself feeling the crack in your heart spread bit by bit as you slide from under the warm covers to collect your things.

It seems like your stomach becomes queasy again with every piece of clothing you put on; making you study your earlier conversation trying to discover any missed signs or warnings. Of course you still didn’t see any, only making you feel foolish and ashamed all over again.

Heels clacking and echoing throughout the home, you’re too busy reserving an Uber on your phone to notice Curtis standing in front of the main door until you nearly run into him. A startled scream pushing from your lungs as one hand lands on your chest and the other drops your phone to the hardwood floor.

With his black top and black pants, he looked as if he’d been in combat having hand guns hanging from the harness strapped across his upper body. Black gloves covering his hands, and red dots splattered along his face match the dripping streaks on his top that are undoubtedly blood.

His expression, hard and stoic, causes an increase in your heart rate now nervous and confused as to what happened to his overall state let alone the change in his mood.

“What happened to you?,” you quietly ask.

“Nothing you need to worry about. And that’s also the first and last time you ask about my business, got it?” His harsher tone has you slightly flinching; taking a step back as you gently nod your head.

“I-I’m sorry..I didn’t mean-,”

“Pretty sure I left you asleep,” he retorts removing his gloves.

“I was looking for you a-and I saw you were gone,” you stammer wrapping your arms around yourself. “I thought-,”

“That this was over? Oh sweetheart you’re too cute.” His words should have you jumping for joy and excited, but his deep chuckle - more menacing than comforting - causes an unwelcome sinking in your gut.

One swift stride forward with his long legs, and Curtis catches your chin in his hand pressing his fingers into your cheeks hard enough to make your plump lips pout and a surprised whimper to leave your heaving chest. You had no choice but to face those blue eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite place; only worsening your nerves.

“I’ll let you know now I’m hard to get rid of,” he whispers ghosting his lips over yours. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get what I want. Who I want.”

You remain quiet - as if you could even try to fight - letting his grip loosen until his fingertips drag from the side of your neck to your collarbone making you shiver. Your body still somehow willing to give in to this man who surely was more dangerous than you could imagine.

“Now here’s what’s gonna happen. We’re gonna get out these clothes and you’re gonna help me clean up in the shower. I’ll put you back to sleep then order breakfast for us in the morning, where you’ll rightly apologize for trying to leave in whatever way I see fit until our food arrives. Understand button?”

You need to fight. Any logical person would scream and shout to the heavens punching and kicking past the point of exhaustion in this situation. Yet you were stuck. Partially from fear of not knowing what Curtis was truly capable of, and partially from your greedy core loving that idea. You could feel the light throb and arousal begin to leak from you making your thighs clinch.

Of course he notices too from the smug smirk on his lips. “Y-Yes,” you softly answer.

“Good girl.”

Who would’ve thought your first - well almost - one night stand would be your last?

#niamh loves you 3000 #curtis everett #curtis everett au #curtis everett x woc!reader #curtis everett x black!reader #curtis everett x reader #snowpiercer #chris evans #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans x woc!reader

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wasyago · 10 months

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Your art is such a huge inspiration for me , i was wondering if you had any tips on anatomy ? Your way of doing it is so fluid and fun to look at and i struggle a lot with stiffness .

welp, long post incoming, sorry i really didn't want to write all of this on the canvas, so most of it will be in text + pictures

(also please keep in mind that this is not a 100% correct way to do this, but this is how i do it)

first, a little secret you need to know. none of my drawings are actually anatomically correct-- its more about proportions and lines of motion than it is about anatomy (since you said you struggle with stiffnes). now, of course anatomy is important, especially if you're going for something more realistic, but i'd say its not the first thing you should focus on. for me, anatomy is something i learn slowly and gradually as i go and as i need (and forget soon after).

i think proportions are in a way a lot more helpful than anatomy, because you can easily change them according to the character's needs and it'll still look believable. so like.

arms from wrist to elbow and from elbow to shoulder are roughly the same size, same with legs.

character's open palm is the same size as their face from chin to hairline.

the thickness of the neck depends not on the size of the head but the size of shoulders. so, if the shoulders are broad and muscular the neck will be too. if the shoulders are small then the neck will be thinner, etc.

when hands are pressed to the body, elbows are in line with the waist and the palm is roughly below the hips.

length of legs in relation to the body is directly responsible for how tall the character looks. if they're the same size - character looks average, if the legs are shorter than the body the character looks shorter, and if the legs are longer then the character looks taller.

and then for the face.... i literally forgot everything about face proportions uhhhh. well. the ears sit in the middle of the head and are in the same dimensions as the nose. the spaces from hairline to eyebrows to tip of the nose to chin are all the same size. mouth sits on 2/3 between the nose and the chin, leaving more space for the chin. eyes are the same size and the space between them is equal to the size of one eye. (this is much easier to explain in a drawing)

and then to make your character stand out and look unique you change some of the proportions. make their eyes bigger, ears smaller, arms longer or legs shorter. the difference between knowing the proportions and breaking them on purpose vs not following the proportions at all, is that when you know what you're breaking it looks intentional and it has a meaning and it makes sense to the viewer, instead of you breaking all the rules without knowing what they are. just remember to emphasize it enough for your style, because if you overdo or don't do enough it might look out of place. again, its all about balance.

and now for the lines of motion... i dont exactly know how to explain them, because there's not really a correct way to do them? but basically its a line that follows and sets the motion. yeah. its what makes the characters look less stiff. and its not exactly imaginary lines, but they're not simply visible either. its the lines that the silhouette of the character follows, the direction their limbs or elements of clothing create. you're basically creating those patterns that the pose follows, and you know us humans we sure love our patterns, so the brain subconsciously recognizes that there's a pattern and the image then feels more structured, more real in a sense?

i have no damn idea how to put it into words, but. um. diagonal lines are dynamic, straight lines (in relation to the canvas) are stiff. its like a square looks stiff but a rombos looks flowy even if they're basically the same thing. so to make your characters look more dynamic you need to build the pose on diagonals and not straight lines. and if you want the pose to look stable then you need to balance it out with lines of motion that go in an opposite direction. sort of like you put two rocks on the ends of a plank to balance it out instead of putting no rocks at all because the plank will balance on its own. it creates flavor and weight and intention, sort of like "this plank balances because of the rocks" instead of "the plank balances because there's nothing". sorry i get carried away with the metaphors--

you can use the stiff/dynamic thing however you want for whatever purpose you need. for example making the bottom of the character who is standing still be parallel to the canvas, but keeping their body diagonal and dynamic, helps to make the character feel stable and set in the drawing, like they're standing on firm ground. keeping a background or some element of the drawing stiff but making the character dynamic emphasizes the movement and focuses attention on the character. but making both the background and the character dynamic creates a fully dynamic composition and the feeling like everything is in motion. its an interesting balance but the more you draw the more you understand it.

hope this helps :D

#yagotalk #feels like i forgot something...... oh well #if you have any more specific questions feel free to ask #how to yago

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chiibi-chaan · 11 months

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Gojo Satoru//hide, doll.

Content warnings// DARK CONTENT, +18 (minors dni), afab!reader (non uses of specific pronouns), ghostface!Gojo Satoru, yandere!Gojo Satoru, stalking, obsessive behavior, mention of murders, Y/n is threatened, manipulation, pet names (baby, doll, angel, my love), breaking into Y/N’s house, hide and seek (fear play?), knife play, dirty talk, blood kink, injuries, cunnilingus, slight choke kink, dub-con at first, unprotected sex, hidden camera.

Word count// 4.2K

Synopsis//He needed you, to the point of becoming crazy, to the point of killing. He wanted to grave his name into your skin, marking you forever, leaving a trace of his own existence directly into your body. You were his, his pretty doll… and you looked even more beautiful now that he had drawn his own art into your flesh, you were his perfect canvas.

A/n// NOT PROOFREAD (I'll correct it later). I apologize if there are mistakes, I had to publish this like 5 days ago but the whole thing was deleted by Tumblr because the app crashed before I could save my work, and I had exams too- I apologize to the people who were waiting for this, and I'll certainly write this week about the winner of the list some of you voted for (Sugar daddy!Toji is the winner for now, there's only one day left!)

JUJUTSU KAISEN MASTERLIST. MASTERLIST.

It was finally Friday, and after such a long week of work, you needed to rest for at least the whole weekend. You didn’t plan to go outside, mostly because of the last events that occurred in the city where you lived. Indeed, a serial killer sowed discord in the streets, slashing innocent people in the most atrocious way. Most of the victims were acquaintances of yours, not close friends, but people you knew and to whom you would say good morning when you met them. You lived in a small town where everyone knew each other, and the thought that this killer could be one of your friends, was frightening. You couldn’t even walk in the streets without being paranoid, after all, without their mask, the killer could be anyone and anywhere. When you weren’t working, you stayed in your house, making sure that everything was locked and that the house was secured. The only people that you would let in your house were your parents and your best friend, but lately you didn't have the chance de see either of them. At least, your best friend was coming for a sleep over. You needed to relax, and it was the best way to forget everything that was happening. Even though you knew that a murderer was out there, you had this innocent idea that they wouldn't come for your life, because you weren't a bad person, just a normal office worker. How naive were you to believe that. You were the perfect prey, the perfect victim, a weak and ignorant person who wasn't paying enough attention to their surroundings, even if you tried, it wasn't enough, and it was clear that nothing you would do would be enough. Unfortunately, that simple mistake, was going to cost you more than you could give.

Soon, you received a text from your best friend, telling you that something came up and that you'll have to see each other another time. You sighed, closing your eyes and tilting your head back. It seemed like you'll be alone another night in your house. You stood up, quickly making sure that your front door was locked before walking to the bathroom, taking a quick shower. After putting on a comfortable shirt and shorts, you went back to the first floor, heading to the kitchen to make yourself popcorn that you were going to eat while watching a movie. Suddenly, your landline phone started ringing, startling you. You sighed, frowning a little and answering the call.

"Hello?"

"Hello, Y/n."

You raised your eyebrows, frowning even more as you didn’t recognise the deep, low voice talking to you, and yet, it seemed like the man at the other end of the call knew you. You sat on the kitchen’s counter while the popcorn were in the microwave.

"Who is this?"

"Mmh… A very, very bad guy."

"Don’t you have anything else to do? It’s late already, stop wasting my time."

"I have a question for you. What is our favorite scary movie?"

"It's not funny, you think that you're something, acting like that sick murderer just for a little prank?You're pathetic."

"If you hang up, I’ll—"

You didn’t listen anymore, hanging up before he could finish his sentence. That call clearly made you in a bad mood; with everything that was happening, dumb kids still made pranks like this? The only thing that bothered you was the fact that he knew your name, but except that, you didn’t pay anymore attention to it, or at least, until a few seconds later. The landline phone rang again, making you frown and glare at it in silence until it stopped. You thought that the person would get bored and stop, but you were wrong, it kept ringing, again and again, until you had enough and answered again.

"What is wrong with you?! Leave me alone!"

"If you fucking hang up on me or ignore me again, I’ll gut you like a fish."

Your hand almost let go of the phone in shock, your eyes widening and you body becoming stiff on the counter as you heard his low voice threatening you.

"W-What?"

"I’m sorry, Y/N. You made me lose my temper for a second."

"Are you crazy? You’re clearly sick! I don’t even know you and yet you’re here, threatening me and harassing me? Leave me alone if you don’t want me to call the police!"

You said with a loud yet trembling voice, ready to hang up again but stopping in your track when you heard him yell, your body stiffening even more and your blood running cold.

"Do you think I’m joking, Y/n? Oh, no… no, no, no… I can see you, doll… you’re so pretty, sitting on this counter like that… are you waiting for me? You can just open the door and I’ll keep you company…"

You gulped, looking up at the window of the kitchen just in front of you, only seeing darkness outside. But you knew that if you could only see shadows, the man staring at you outside could see you perfectly in the light of the room. You stood up, your legs a little weak and your hand trembling a little as you held the phone to your ear, your voice not about a murmur as you whispered;

"W-What do you want?"

"I want to play a game with you, doll… nothing too difficult."

"Will you let me live if I do…?"

"If you win, I will. It’s a real simple game, doll. You just need to be quick and smart, but you’re such a perfect girl, I’m sure that you can go beyond my expectations."

"What is the game?"

"Hide and seek. I’ll let you some time so that you can hide… and then, I’ll come in and look for you. If I can’t find you, you win… but if I do…"

He simply chuckled, his deep, husky voice sounding like a threat against your ear. What did he mean by that? He was going to come in? In your house? You gulped and looked through the window again.

"And don’t think about calling the police, doll… if you do, I’ll have to kill you. Now, you have five minutes to hide. I won’t cheat, promise."

You could hear the smirk in his voice and a little scream escaped from you mouth as the electricity in the house has suddenly been turned off. You gripped the landline phone tightly and ran upstairs to your bedroom. Your closet had a false wall, which no one knew the existence except your parents and best friend, and you planned to hide there. You were sure that this crazy man wouldn’t be able to find you. You removed the false wall of the closet, holding the wooden plank in your hands and sitting inside the closet, fitting just right into the hole behind your clothes. You put back the false wall in place and waiting, holding the phone to your ear again and listening to the his voice, he was still counting, and you shivered as you heard him finally pronouncing 300. You gulped nervously, trying to control your breathing while he spoke again.

"Ready or not, I'm coming to find you, doll."

You trembled as you heard a loud crash downstairs, he was really in the house, it seemed like he broke a window to come in. You could hear him chuckle softly, as if he found all this funny. For him, it was just a child play, but for you, it was a deadly game, your life was at stake. And unfortunately, fate wasn’t by your side today. You could hear his heavy footsteps as he goes up the stairs, he didn’t even lose time looking for you on the first floor. Maybe he thought that you would instinctively go upstairs as a way to change position in the house, or he just knew from the beginning where you were. And if it was the latter, you were sure that you would not be able to escape, not even if you tried to put up a fight.

"I hope you are still listening, doll… because I have a little surprise for you. I’m sure that you won’t answer me, since you’re supposed to be hiding and stay quiet, but I really miss hearing your voice. I can say, without doubt, that you’re curious about who I am, after all, we live in a small town, where everyone knows each other, but here I am, killing the people I saw all my life. Isn’t it ironical?"

You could hear him chuckle, before he became silent for a few seconds. And as you listened carefully, you heard him stop walking, the sound of his footsteps stopping right in front of your bedroom’s door. You closed your eyes tightly, praying that he wouldn’t find you, that you will win the game, or at least that he will be merciful enough to let you. But you were wrong, so wrong.

"You know, at first, I tried control it. This urge, this consuming thirst of blood… of death. I had this small part of my brain telling me that all of this was so, so wrong, and which made me feel even more guilty. But desire takes over everything, and soon, what held me from killing disappeared, engulfed by that other part of me, more cruel, more evil. So, I started to kill. I killed the people getting in my way. And I’m sure that you’re even more confused. I mean, why you? Why am I telling you this? Why am I doing this? The answer is very simple; it’s all for you, for us."

Your blood ran cold and you froze, your hand trembling as you held the phone tightly Your mind was completely blurred by insane thoughts, and as if the time stopped, as if only him and you existed, you understood. Tears formed in your eyes and a small sob escaped from your mouth as you tried to forget, to not think about what you feared the most. You didn’t want to believe it, to even think about it, but you couldn’t stop yourself, you couldn’t chain that dreadful realisation in the back of your head, like it never existed. And as the door of your room opened, the slow creaking of the wood making your heart beat in your temples and the sound of his steps echoing between the walls and in your ears like a drum of death, you couldn’t deny it anymore. Tears rolled down your cheeks and you looked up slowly, sobbing quietly as the sound of the closet opening was heard, before the false wall hiding you was slowly removed. And as your eyes met the dark chasms that were his eyes, or more precisely the eyes of his mask, you cried even more.

"hello, doll. Did you miss me?"

He whispered softly, chuckling behind his mask and crouching in front of you, his hand slowly playing with a dagger. Now, you could finally guess who it was, you could be sure of it. You could recognise his voice without even trying, this voice you heard all your life, since your childhood and until now. You knew this man, but the realisation that you actually didn’t was even more difficult to swallow.

"W-Why?"

"Because I can, and because I want to."

He simply answered, and before you could react, his fingers were already wrapped around your ankle, pulling you out of your hiding place and of the closet. You gasped, the back of your head and your back hitting the floor. You tried to fight back, but he was much stronger than you, his hand gripping one of your wrist and his other holding the blade of his dagger to your throat. You trembled, slowly calming down as I felt the weapon cutting my skin slightly, blood dribbling down my neck. He pulled back slightly, still holding the dagger to your neck and removing his mask with the other hand, provoking a small sob from your mouth as you saw his face, this face that you knew so well; the face of your best friend.

"S-Satoru... please, stop..."

"I can't stop, Y/n. It's too late. But you'll forgive me, right? You love me, doll... You can jut stay by my side and I'll protect you from all the disgusting men looking at you the wrong way."

"W-What? You killed them just for this? Satoru, you're delusional!"

"You think I'm crazy, right? You think I'm sick? but I'm not, I did this because I love you too, Y/n. It's my job to protect you, because I'm your everything, I'm the only person you can love besides your parents. They love me too, and they can't wish for a better husband for you, I'm the best choice! I'm rich, I'm handsome, strong, smart and funny. I can make you happy, your know that. So don't push me away, my love."

A small gasp escaped from your mouth once again as he pressed the dagger harder against your skin, your breath hitching and your hands holding on his black cloak. You then whimpered, trying to make him listen to you.

"Y-You're hurting me, 'toru..."

"I'm sorry, baby. But it's not by whining that I'll trust you. Unfortunately for you, I'm not an idiot, I may be I love, crazy in love, but I'm still smart enough to see what you are trying to say. "

"P-please, just put the knife away, you're scaring me..."

He sighed and nodded slowly, putting the dagger in a pocket of his cloak, away from your eyes. You closed your eyes in relief, but yet again, you couldn't think about relaxing with an insane murderer in front of you. Satoru ran his fingers through his silver hair, his baby blue eyes looking down at you. He leaned forward again, his hand wrapping around your neck, his thumb trailing along the small cut he made and wiping the blood. His eyes stared back into your eyes and he sucked his thumb with a slight smirk, licking your blood.

"You forgive me, baby? I just got a little excited... I wanted to taste you for so long, I'm almost desperate."

He chuckled, his hands gripping your hips and pulling you against him, lifting you lower body off the floor. he buried his face in your neck, his tongue slowly licking your cut, making you shiver and feeling things that you were ashamed of; your body stiffening and a small gasp coming out of your mouth. You could feel him smile against your skin, his hands running along your thighs and squeezing your hips gently. But even though he did this, you didn't do anything to stop him. You knew it was wrong, so wrong, and yet you still couldn't truly believe it, you couldn't accept that he was a murderer, that the man you've known all your life, the man you trusted and loved, killed people. You couldn't even deny the words he said earlier; he was handsome, smart... He described himself perfectly, and until now, you really thought that he was. Your heart started beating faster, bumping madly against your rib cage. Your hand gripped his hair, pulling his head away from your neck, your eyes hooded with a mix of desire and embarrassment.

"Satoru, it's... it's wrong..."

"It isn't, baby... just relax. let me take care of you..."

"but..."

"shh... trust me, okay? I can make you feel good..."

He kissed you softy, his hands holding your thighs around his waist, his hips slowly grinding against yours. You could feel the bulge of his erection straining against his pants and pressed against your crotch. Satoru smiled, his hands pulled your panties down your legs and he looked down at your exposed cunt, biting his lips softly before trailing his fingers along your folds, feeling your wetness against his fingertips.

"You're so wet, doll... You want me, don't you? Say it for me..."

"I...!"

Your lips parted and you let out a small gasp, his thumb rubbing your clit gently and his middle finger and forefinger slipping into your hole. Your thighs clenched around his waist and you moaned, your eyes almost rolling back when he curled his fingers up, pressing against your g-spot. He hummed softly, his lips trailing along your jawline and your throat while he pumped his fingers in and out of you, his cock pulsing in his pants with each sweet moans coming out of your mouth or even the lewd and wet sounds your cunt let out as he fingered you. His free hand removed your shirt quickly, and he sat back a little, taking in the sight of your breasts and of your whole naked body. He pulled his fingers out of you and lifted you up in his arms, carrying you to the bed while kissing you passionately.

"You’re too good for me, baby… fuck, I know I don’t deserve you, I really do. And it hurts so much to be aware of that. But let me be selfish one more time, Y/n. Let me have you, let me taste you, let me make love to you, just let me love you."

He said softly, his voice not higher than a whisper softly as he rested his forehead against yours, laying you down on the bed and hovering over you, his forearms on each sides of your head keeping him up so that he wouldn’t crush you with his body. He sounded desperate, wounded by having to admit this aloud. He looked vulnerable, almost pitiful, and you couldn’t prevent yourself from feeling touched by his words. You pulled him closer, pushing aside all the things that happened today and all the things you discovered and just hugging him tight, melting in the warmth of his body and nuzzling your face into his neck, accepting how weak you were for him, forgiving and forgetting all the things he did, just because you loved him. He kissed the cut on your throat again and pressed his hips against your bare cunt, grinding against you and grunting softly.

"I wanna hear you, baby… please, I need you… say it for me, yeah? Let me hear your sweet voice, tell me you want me, tell me you want me to make love to you… I’ll make you feel so good, I promise…"

"Please, ‘toru… I want you too…"

"That’s right, baby… you’re so perfect, my sweet angel…"

He whispered and pulled back, quickly pulling his black cloak over his head along with his shirt, exposing his bare chest and chiseled stomach. You whimpered softly at the sight, your hands gently brushing against his skin, stroking delicately the scars on his skin. You looked up at him, meeting his eyes which were already staring right at you. He leaned forward and kissed your forehead softly before removing his pants too, only keeping on his boxers, which looked tight and uncomfortable due to his erection. His hands then held your thighs, pushing them apart as he laid down between them, his face close to your cunt. He looked up at you with hooded eyes, his hot breath caressing your sensitive skin and he pressed a gentle kiss on your inner thigh, his mind already completely clouded by the scent of you, by your mesmerising beauty and simply by you whole. Then, he finally put his mouth where you needed him the most, his eyes half closed as he looked at your every reactions while his tongue lapped at your folds, licking and swallow your wetness while his nose rested against your clit, his tongue pushing into your hole slightly, teasing you. Your heart pulsed faster into your chest as you tried to hold the eye contact, your face becoming hot with embarrassment and desire as you took in the sight of him, of his head buried between your thighs and his mouth eating you out almost desperately while his mesmerising eyes looked straight back at you. You moaned his name, one of your hands gently gripping his hair while the other held on the sheets tightly. He took only mere minutes to make you come undone on his tongue, moaning himself against your core while grinding himself against the mattress, his hands gripping your thighs firmly as he sucked on your pulsing clit, his lips and chin glistening with your slick.

"F-Fuck, you taste so good, baby… could make me cum in my boxers like some virgin high school boy…"

Satoru whined softly, kissing your clit one last time before pulling away, his tongue running along his lips and licking your juices. He quickly pulled down his pants, along with his boxers, and sighed as his member sprung free, no more confined by its contraints. A small gasp escaped from your mouth at the sight of his cock, much thicker than you had imagined, his pinkish tip dribbling with precum. He pumped himself in his fist, groaning softly and being his bottom lip. You stared at him with hooded eyes, gasping softly when he rubbed the head of his cock against your folds, pushing between them ad gliding it along your slit.

"Do you want it, doll? Do you want my cock inside your pretty cunt, mmh?"

You could feel your face radiating with heat, your body even hotter with boiling arousal. You nodded slightly, not trusting your voice as your mouth let out a moan when his tip teased your clit, rubbing against it. You whimpered softly, your body stiffening as you felt him slowly pushing inside of you, his thick cock filling you up to the brim.

"f-fuck, fuck...! I love you, baby... o-oh god, you can't even imagine h-how much I dreamed about having this sweet little pussy around my c-cock..."

Satoru stammered, his dick twitching inside of you while he clenched his teeth. he could barely stay sane at this point, his mind completely foggy with lust and euphoria as he tried to stay still so that you could adjust to his size. You gasped for air, your back slightly arched and your eyes rolling back as you felt his tip kissing your cervix, small whimpers escaping from your mouth. Soon, he started moving, each thrusts of his hips sending your mind into a storm of bliss, your mouth agape and your nails scratching and digging into his back while he pounded into you, losing control over himself.

"you feel so good, baby... so much better than what I could ever imagine..."

He grunted, his face buried in your neck, his teeth digging into your skin hard enough to leave a mark, his breathing becoming ragged and heavy. He moaned as loud as you, his hands gripping your hips, your ass and your thighs desperately, anything that could ground him and keep him wrapped in your warmth.

"I w-want you, fuck...! Y-You're mine, doll. Do you understand? A-All... mine."

He whined into your ear, practically rutting against you like a dog, his voice shaking as he babbled incoherently into your neck. He could already feel himself getting closer to orgasm, one of his hand resting against your lower belly and his thumb rubbing your clit furiously. His trembling voice begged you to come with him, he needed to feel your pussy clenching and convulsing around his cock before thinking about allowing himself his own release. A loud cry of his name echoed in the room as you felt your orgasm overwhelming your nerves and muscles, your eyes rolling back and your back arching, pressing your breasts against his chest. He moaned, one of his hands wrapping around your neck and squeezing your throat enough to make you lightheaded, the bliss and lack of oxygen making everything even more overwhelming. He kept thrusting sloppily into your sensitive pussy, his free hand gripping the knife in the pocket of his cloak while you weren't even able to see. He licked his lips, pressing the tip of the knife against your skin, drawing the initials of his name on your lower belly. You couldn't even feel the pain, too focused on how his cock was ravaging your insides to the point of making you mindless. His cock pulled inside of you at the sight of the two bloody letters graved into your skin, his eyes rolling back as he buried himself deep inside of you, releasing his cum in your womb. His body trembled a little and he held you tight against him, breathing heavily against your neck. After a few seconds, he looked at you, a small smile stretching his lips as he saw you passed out, sleeping peacefully with his cock still deep inside of you. He whispered softly, nuzzling his face into your neck and closing his eyes, resting against your body a few minutes, before standing up, pulling back on his clothes and cleaning you up as best as he could. Then, he kissed you tenderly and covered you with a blanket before glancing at your desk against the wall, smirking as he saw the cute teddy bear he got you as a gift. He walked to it and took it in his hand, staring at one of the eyes of the stuffed animal and winking at it. It seemed like he now had a really good video about you both, which he would certainly watch when he missed you... His sweet and dumb doll.

#x reader #anime #afab reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #jjk #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru x y/n #satoru x you #gojo x you #gojo satoru smut #ghostface #ghost face #ghostface smut

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hellsslibrary · 1 year

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‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾The best canvas is a canvas that is as beautiful as the upcoming painting.　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

DNI: Minors(You will be blocked, kittens).

!! Warnings: soft sex, praise, painting on Albedo's body (just words of praise, not mentioned), aftercare, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, oral, anal sex and fingering (Albedo takes), humiliation at the end and a hint of sex after work.

The soft sound of heels echoed down the corridor. The man's footsteps were heading straight to the office of his beloved alchemist. He is probably busy right now and is creating some kind of experiment in order to later give some wonderful discovery that will amaze the hearts and souls of many people, revealing to them the light on a small truth.

You sigh when you realize that he is probably working again, completely forgetting about rest. Well, of course you know he's a doll. But the fact that he still needs rest for his physical and especially moral condition does not change. He still needs to rest.

A slight smile appears on your face when you imagine how you will again persuade him to take his mind off work. His blue eyes, like the blue waves of the ocean, will be focused on his project. His voice, as always, will be flawless and clear, unless, of course, you deign not to tease the young alchemist. His elegant hands will sort through the bottles or write something down in his documents or notes, or maybe he will draw something insanely beautiful, as always.

You stop in front of a massive door made of dark oak. You knock softly twice, and then open the door, revealing a dark, almost black, room. You walk in, closing the door, and head to the only place, the corner where the light is on. He turns away from his canvas and looks at the unexpected guest. A slight smile blooms on his lips, which causes butterflies in your stomach.

"Hello, my love." - you raise the hand that holds the brush to your lips and briefly kiss it. - "How are you doing?"

He chuckles a little, but says:

"Everything is fine." - he corrects his bangs, trying not to stain it with paint. - "What brings you here?"

You lift his little body in your arms for just a few seconds, but it causes him a pleasant blush spreading over his face. You sit on the chair he was sitting on, putting him on your lap. He blinks a few times, trying to realize what happened, but then he snuggles up to you, leaning back against your chest.

"I wanted to see my handsome boyfriend, can't I?" - you playfully ask, looking at the canvas, and trying to understand what exactly he was trying to draw.

"Of course you can, I'm just surprised, you usually come a little later." - he leans against your chest, inhaling your scent, which he has already missed since morning.

Soles and almost imperceptible lines forming something are drawn on the canvas. Something distinctly human-like. This man is sitting on some kind of chair, one leg bent under him, straight like some kind of king.

"Who's that, baby?" - you ask.

"It's you. It was supposed to be a surprise, but since you saw it, I don't mind." - he whispers, lifting his head from his chest, and taking your cheeks in his hands.

He presses his warm, soft lips to your light kiss, immediately pulling away and just looking at you. You take him by the hips, pulling him closer, pressing against his lips with painful force. He groans in surprise, but a second later his hands are already around your neck.

Your lips slowly and lovingly slide against each other. Where are you in a hurry? You have time and you want to use this time to show each other how much you both appreciate and love each other.

You gently bite his lips, asking him to enter, to which he gladly agrees. Your tongue slides over his, and then they wrap around. He moans and then jerks his hips slightly to get closer to you. You grin, pressing his hips to yours and he whines from your action, twitching closer to your torso.

"Hush, hush, baby, you have to be more patient, okay?" - he nods, moving away from your crotch. - "Good boy. And now... Lie down on the table behind."

He gets off your lap, lying down on the surface of the table. "Undress," he hears, and immediately begins to take off his clothes layer by layer, so unnecessary now. But he leaves his beautiful stockings, which he knows you love perfectly.

He looks at you and sighs languidly, watching how slowly you undress. The sight of your naked torso gives him goosebumps. He really wants to sit down at the canvas again and finish his drawing, but by drawing you naked, although he had a completely different concept initially. His gaze slides lower as you take off your pants and then your underwear, exposing your semi-hard cock. He licks his lips and unconsciously spreads his legs even more than he originally wanted, already imagining how it will feel in him.

You giggle when you see it and get closer to him. Your hand grabs his thigh, and with the other you take the brush that he put here earlier.

"Do you mind if I write something on you?" - you ask, gently stroking his knee, which makes him twitch slightly from tickling.

"Of course. I'm all yours, [Your name], I'm all yours." - he whispers, lying down more comfortably and relaxed to give you better access.

A quiet "thank you" escapes from your lips when you swipe a brush dipped in black paint over his abs, starting to draw some cute words that make him blush and occasionally giggle at your game.

He whines when you reach his pubis, finishing writing the last word and putting a period in honor of it. Your hand slides to his desk drawer, rummaging there for lube. He slides awkwardly across the table, trying to get out of the grip of your hands and not fall off the table at the same time. He reaches for the second drawer, clumsily opening it and climbs a little further, stretching his back, taking out a bottle of lubricant, handing it to you, quickly slamming the drawer and lying back down.

You chuckle when you see an awkward smile on his face and pull him closer to you, making his ass almost hang off the table. You open the bottle, squeezing a generous amount of lubricant onto your fingers, and then start warming it in your hands so that he feels comfortable. After a few seconds, one of your fingers circles the rim of his muscles, causing him to whine and shrink around nothing. You just giggle, sinking lower, and lick his cock. He pushes awkwardly, but you hold his hips with your other hand, pinning him to the table.

"I'd rather you didn't move, okay, Bedo?" he nods, covering his red face with his hands as you start sucking the head of his cock.

[Your name] skipped their usual teasing, deciding not to spoil the moment, and instead went straight to his treasure, deciding to enjoy it to the fullest, and wrapped a gentle hand around the base. But before he moved on, Albedo slightly pulled the strands on his boyfriend's head and was immediately rewarded with a sweet kiss on the head to make the blonde whine slightly, lips and tongue soon danced wonderfully until you pressed a thick vein along his base, forcing him to throw his head back in bliss and let out a groan of satisfaction. Leaving the last loving touch to the tip of his penis, [Your name] swallowed its entire length up to the fist, and then further, as soon as his throat relaxed.

Bliss. This is probably the only word that was spinning in the alchemist's head. The feeling of your lips, tongue, your warm throat, and sometimes your very light bites were just blissful for him. He might have thought that God was in front of him, who had come to give him the best pleasure that he had ever received in his life.

Fluttering waves of heat sweep through Albedo's body, reaching all the way to the tips of his toes and back to the top of his head, causing his hair to stand on end. And [Your name] kept moving, swallowing deeper and deeper, until the Chief Alchemist forgot about the existence of anything else but you, when finally a pair of plump lips pressed against the skin of the man's base, and the tonsils caressed and squeezed the tip of his dick. Albedo's sighing moan was exquisite and the sweetest sound you could ever hear.

Your finger finally collided into him when you took his cock to the end. His hand immediately falls on your hair and squeezes it, causing you to choke slightly from surprise. A quiet "I'm sorry" escapes from his lips along with the moans and sobs of your name, while you continue to excite him from both sides.

He feels the movements of your finger in it, it slides so easily from the lubricant, touching all his sensitive points. He arches his back when he feels the second finger, and then the third. Your thrusts into him and onto his penis are increasing. If earlier he could control his sounds, now he clearly can't, and who among you would really like to do this?

He shudders, goosebumps run through his body, and butterflies begin to flutter in his stomach when he feels your touch on his prostate. He feels a familiar knot begin to appear in his stomach, which is about to explode.

"I am... I—Hmm..! I'm going to, ah, to-cum—!" - he shouts, squeezing your hair harder, but not pressing on your head.

You take your hand off his hips, allowing him to take advantage of the situation for a few seconds and cum with pleasure.

He ends up with a loud moan, arching his back and pressing you as hard as possible to himself. He fucks your face for a few seconds and lightly sits on your fingers, trying to survive his orgasm.

When he lets you go, you pull away, and a quiet laugh breaks from his lips when he sees that you swallowed his sperm.

"Don't laugh, honey." - you kiss his forehead, lifting one of his thighs. - "Do you want it dry or not?"

"Dry, p-please." - he whispers, putting his arm around your shoulders.

You just shrug your shoulders and put your other hand on his stomach, stroking the inscriptions that you did. The hand that was on your hip goes down to your penis, takes it and directs it to the blonde's ass. You look up at him, he nods, and then throws his head back, feeling you enter him with one push.

"Move, move, please!" - desperately, and almost screaming, he begs.

"So right away? How desperate." - you laugh, but you start gently pushing into him, enjoying his soft moans.

He looks like a hero who descended from a painting that was painted by the brush of a famous artist who is fond of eroticism, of course. His blue eyes, in the corners of which there were tears threatening to spill at any second. His red cheeks, even more red than usual, beckoned to bite them. His open mouth that was emitting all his beautiful sounds. And his lips, slightly swollen from kisses, which he occasionally bit so as not to moan too loudly.

"Bedo?" - he's looking at you. "You're so handsome now, you know? I would have devoured you completely."

You feel the hands on your back squeeze a little harder with your praise-teasing.

"Oh, that's not true... Mghm! You look just amazing, my love too." - he pulls you to him in a quick kiss. - "I wish you'd keep your words."

You raise an eyebrow in disbelief, but then you laugh:

"Don't worry, I'll eat you completely."

He laughs, but at the same second he moans, feeling how you are pushing into his prostate for the hundredth time in these minutes.

"I seem to be back... " - he sighs. - "I'll cum, please... I'm going to cum..."

"Come on, baby, cum on my dick whenever you want. " - you chuckle, pushing his interfering bangs aside. - "Show me that cute face you make when you cum from my cock inside you."

He nods, choking for a second from your particularly sharp thrust. And after a few seconds, he finishes again, staining his written torso with sperm, which merged with some ink that had not dried yet.

Albedo licks his lips, pressing into your back with his nails, making you hiss with a little pain when he feels that you are still pushing into him.

"Wait a bit, baby, I'm almost..." - he nods.

You cling to his neck, biting it when you feel that you are coming, making him whimper and tears finally spill from his beautiful, glassy eyes with excitement.

Heavy breathing could be heard all over the alchemist's office. After a few seconds, you pull away, grabbing napkins from the alchemist's table and cleaning your penis of lube and sperm. You get dressed quickly while your boyfriend takes a breath, and then you wipe his body, wiping both the ink and your cum and lube with him. Your hands pull on his clothes, and then gently put him down, checking if he can keep his balance.

You give him a quick peck on the forehead, holding his hands:

"You were such a good boy, sweetheart, you know? I would be willing to continue this for hours, if not days. "

"Mmm, thank you, but we both know that this is impossible, neither you nor I can stand so much, human bodies... M—!?" - you quickly kiss him on the lips so that he doesn't start the same lecture again that he starts almost every time after your sex.

"I know, I know, don't take my words seriously, I know we won't be able to fuck for days, okay? But we can do it for hours." - he blushes slightly, but nods, awkwardly getting off the table.

He licks his dry lips, sitting down on his chair again and starting to draw.

"You can go, [Your name], Sucrose will arrive soon so we can work on the formula a little more." - he turns around with a teasing grin. - "And it's time for you to work too."

You laugh, but you kiss him on the lips and leave, waving your hand to him. You close the door and laugh to yourself.

"I'll fuck you at home anyway, like the last whore, making you scream under me, Alchemist... " - you whisper, although you understand that no one will hear it now...

...

"Sucrose, is something wrong? You're too red. Do you have a fever? Maybe an allergy?" - Albedo asks, slightly worried.

"N-no, it's just... [Your last name]-Sama... He is... Nothing..." - she sighs and turns away, leaving the blonde in disbelief.

Yes. No one will hear you, except Sucrose, standing behind your back.

This is my first fan fiction, I hope you enjoyed it!!

#genshin impact x male reader #genshin x male reader #albedo x male reader #albedo x reader #sub albedo #albedo smut #genshin impact smut #smut genshin impact #top male reader #dom male reader #sub genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #seme male reader #a!writes.#🥀a!humiliation #🥀a!creampie #🥀a!aftercare #🥀a!praise kink

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starliights-shining · 1 year

Note

Hello!

Can I request TFP Soundwave, Shockwave, and Dreadwing with a gn human reader who likes to draw and paint on the walls, but the cons always tell them not to and often put them in a "time out" when they don't listen, but the human doesn't care and continues to do it?

Thank you!

Yes you can! I Always forget to go to the bottom on my ask box and do these request, so if you requested something late march and haven't seen it, I just forget to look and do these ones. I'm not neglecting you, I swear. I hope this is what you were looking for. Enjoy :)

Pairings: TFP! Soundwave x Reader, Shockwave x Reader, Dreadwing x Reader

Warnings: None,

Shockwave

Shockwave I feel like doesn’t really care about you drawing, just you drawing on the walls outside of his lab. He tries to keep you and your drawings in his lab, but you’ve drawn all over the walls. So you go out, draw on other walls. Which means time out, he had his own little corner for you, colorless, a chair that faces that blank corner. He makes sure you don’t draw on that corner, EVER.

Shockwave kept an optic on you, but would often forget about the activities you do. Drawing, it's what keeps you calm and makes life enjoyable. So when he was off in his lab building god knows what, you took your drawing box and went to find a new canvas. The Nemesis needed color, and you were going to supply that color, especially since the only colors that existed were from Knockout and like one more. The swooshing sound of the door opening filled your ears as you left. You little metal box, clinking in your hands as you walked the large cold halls. You made it to what you assumed was the main control room hall, the emptiest spot on the entire ship, and was always closest to Megatron, but you simply do not care. You made a little spot and got to drawing, this time you’d make a mural, something nice and friendly for other cons to see and think happy thoughts to. You had gotten half way, when you heard the loud footsteps of someone. Your head turning and your eyes landing on Shockwave. His singler Red optic seemed to glow differently this time.

“These illogical actions cannot go without punishment.”

He said as his large servos went to pick up your utensil, and scooped you up in one go. Before you knew it you were back in his lab, facing that same blank corner, he stood to your left, a digit pointing at the ground. He didn’t say anything, but you knew it was time out. You let out a sigh and then slumped in your chair. He went back to work.

It had been about 5 minutes, you were bored, staring at the blank gray slate wall. You stuck your hand in your coat pocket and felt a cylinder stick. You pulled it out to see it was a paint marker in yellow. A wicked smile makes it home on your face and you turn to look at Shockwave over your shoulder. His back towards you as you uncapped the marker and started drawing.

You had the entire corner with yellow flowers and butterflies and a few other things. You were starting on a new flower when a dark gray servo grabbed your wrist. You dropped the marker, your eyes trailing up his arm and to his optic. Even though you were in time out, and he had supposedly taken the markers from you, you still managed to give him the vibes of not caring. He released your wrist, and walked away, he figured no matter how much time out he gives you. He cannot stop you, it’s better you draw in here then out where other Cons could get you.

Soundwave

Soundwave, I feel like he cares a little too much about what other Cons will do to you, if they catch you drawing, so he tries to keep you in rooms where he is. I also think he doesn’t care about putting you in time out, his version is just sticking you in a room where you can just draw and be safe. I also think if it comes down to it, he’ll let you draw on him as well, if it keeps you outta trouble and away from other Cons.

When you disappeared Soundwave looked everywhere, you weren’t found in your normal spots, and he tried to follow the scattered drawings you made, but it ended up leading him nowhere. It wasn’t until he got a com from Starscream to meet him in the control room.

There you were, trying your best to get out of the grip Starscream had on your arm, your little cloth bag of your markers dropped on the ground next to you. Your free hand was pulling at the metal servo, and a pained look on your face.

“Your pet has a habit of getting out. You should keep a better optic on them if you want to keep them alive.”

Starscream pulled you closer to him, holding your arm up above your head. Your eyes traveled to Soundwave, who was now standing next to you and the con, a servo on Starscream's arm that held onto you. The cons stared at each other, before Starscream let out a nervous laugh and let go.

“Just keep your pet controlled.”

He walked away, you both watched before you looked up at Soundwave. His visor was blank as he looked down at you, you could hear a small whirring noise and a smiley face appeared on his visor. You smiled back, you knew he’d put you in time out for the trouble you’ve caused today, but it didn’t matter. As long as he was the one to retrieve you, you didn’t care. You bent down to pick up your bag and when you straightened back up, Soundwave had a servo on your upper back, while his other directed you out. You followed, letting him usher you in the direction of the comms room. He opened the door and walked to the little makeshift room he kept for you, the same servo positions to usher you into the room. He was showing you time out, you walked in and watched him close the door. You sat down, not wanting to draw, you didn’t feel in trouble, more like just locked in your room for back talk, just there was no back talk. You wanted to take the initiative, and actually be in time out, and you did, arms crossed as you stared at the wall in front of you. This only lasted for like 2 minutes, before you picked up your paint makers and went back to it.

It was the sound of the door opening that broke you from you drawing trance. You head whipping to it, Soundwave stood in the doorway, a servo up as he waved at you, causing you to laugh. He stepped away, showing you that you were no longer stuck in time out and allowed to move around. You smiled, and continued drawing the pretty purple smiley faces on every flower.

Dreadwing

Dreadwing feels like the type to not like your drawings. His version of time out is making you wash it off the walls, and you hate it. Arms crossed as he put you in front of your art with a bucket and a sponge, an evil looking digit pointing at the wall. He thinks the drawing is cute, but he will not have you disobeying his order and rules. No drawing means No drawing, no exceptions.

You were left for 30 minutes, it took you 5 to find your hidden markers and find a spot to start. The pretty mural was of him, a nice flower field, a few bees and you were there too. Since he was always busy these were the closest things you would get to actually going outside with him. So when he rounded the corner and saw you drawing on it, you froze, saying ‘If I don't move he can’t see me’ unfortunately, it didn’t work.

“(Y/N), what did I tell you about drawing on the walls?”

His tone was cold, dead almost, normally he tried to put something in it so it didn’t scare you but this time there was nothing. You sighed, capping the marker and starting to pout. Plan B was in motion, pout and look cute, he can’t say no if you look cute right? He did, a servo out in demand of your markers, and you listened, handing him the box he had hidden twenty times now.

“Come on.”

You got up from your spot and followed him, you knew where he was going, time out, a corner in his quarters. When you arrived you walked straight past him and to the chair. That same pout on your face and your arms crossed. He didn’t say anything, just left. When he returned he had called your name, in his servo was the bucket. You left out a loud huff, following him to the mural where he told you the same thing he did last time.

“Clean,”

He stood next to you, in watch, just to make sure you did what you needed too. You started with the bottom. The green grass washes away with every left to right motion you made. You were cursing yourself mentally for always drawing, you could just like not, but why would you. This ship was borning the same gray color with that ugly gray color, and the occasional purple, you made it known to Dreadwing it did not mix, but he didn’t care. Your thoughts were cut short by the sound of another Con.

“Good, keep your pet working. Maybe this way it’ll be useful. Those awful drawings shouldn’t be staying”

The snarky comment came from Starscream, who walked past the two of you. You looked up at Dreadwing, he didn’t say anything, his optics just following the Con as he walked out of view. You picked back up the sponge again, getting ready to continue washing away your art.

“I regret to inform him that you will not be washing this off. Come on, we can leave this one here.”

You smiled, his hatred for Starscream seemed to save your beautiful mural. Maybe you should draw in spots Starscream will walk by more often.

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henqtic · 1 year

Text

My Only Girl⋆｡*✩

pairing: xavier thorpe x black!reader . word count: 2.1k ( 2180 ).

⊹ summary: xavier finally shows her his makeshift art studio, filled up with what had been consuming him lately and it leads to more.

i love a good clueless best friends to lovers they only have eyes for each other thing so I tweaked the story a little bit also love confessions and sort of miscommunication but not the annoying kind, it get’s resolved quickly — more like momentary confusion :)

·:*₊‧ masterlist . taglist form . request works . ·:*₊‧✩

part two: fluttery.

Maybe I should’ve chosen something a tad more practical for a walk through the woods? She thought. Something that would protect from the harsh end-of-fall winds, and not just the cutest thing that popped out of the closet. Her cardigan had holes all about it, the loose crochet pattern being a little less desirable now.

But, Xavier had finally taken his eye off of that sketchbook and directed them onto her. He carried two, one that he let her have nearly endless access to – bringing to life little birdies and stick fingers that would dance around each other when you were down.

Or he’d even let her give the ‘artist friend’ role of their pair a try and they’d end up with a rather . . . diabolical dog rabbit deer thing running around his dorm in the middle of the night.

Once. It was once. He hadn’t brought to life anything she’d put on a paper since. He, along with Rowan who woke up to a tickling on his feet, claimed it was a safety hazard.

The other sketchbook that is, he’d only bring out when his mind ran particularly quick. So quick that he’d forget to have a good breakfast and she’d have to bring him one of those weird jam packed bagels that he argued were so much better than a normal breakfast burrito.

Tomato, onion, cream cheese, and avocado. Lightly toasted bread. The lady behind the counter in the cafeteria didn’t even have to ask anymore.

Those moments more often than not, also included times where he couldn’t tell her everything right then and there. Preoccupied with whatever it was troubling him.

But she lived with it. Even if that meant talking to her best friend and the guy she had been in love with since she was thirteen like he was half way there. And feeling inadequate for the periods of time it lasted.

It’s not good for her, she knew that.

But it’s him. She knew him. Behind all of that brooding and mystique, he was just as much of a person with personal problems as everyone else. So, she could live with it. However long it took until he was comfortable with opening up – with as much enthusiasm her attention loving heart could pump through her veins.

“Here, take my hoodie,” Xavier offered, shaking the thick cotton off of his shoulders as he closed the door to the shed behind them, “I didn't notice how much you were shivering until now.”

“Then won’t you be cold?”

“I’m used to the chill. Take it, I need to look for something really quick.”

“What is it? Maybe I can help,” she smiled as she took the jacket out of his hands, taking a step to turn around and replace her jumbo sized cardigan for it instead.

It smelled comforting, like vanilla and shea, the vanilla she knew for a fact came from his shampoo and the shea probably from her own hair product.

“No, you can’t,” he rushed, averting his eyes as she quickly turned around, the sweater just half way on, “Um, it’s a gift. . . sort of, just look around and I’ll tell you when to close your eyes.”

“Okay,” she sang, a little unsure with his tone, pulling the rest of it down as he walked to a pile of papers on the counters lining the left wall.

She took just a second to watch him walk away, the muscles of his back moving together so nicely as he searched for whatever he was searching for. He could hunt forever for whatever, honestly. Maybe even get a canvas to capture his own back profile if that was possible. She knew she’d pay a commission.

Taking a deep breath, she shook her head, snapping out of whatever trance he had unknowingly put her in.

It looked just like his dorm, his side of it at least.

From ceiling to floor, he had pieces scattered all over. They were all so beautiful, she hadn’t realized he’d made things outside of black and white. They all stood out against the dark wood of the shed, pink, greens, reds, yellows, all shining bright from the artworks.

Faceless people reaching out to each other, hearts molding together, beautiful depiction of nighttime from a view that seemed familiar, peonies, cornations, and orchids all in the same bouquet. Dozens of swans in a pond under the stars, but only two stood out amongst them. Everything was of the same genre, as though it was. . . love that had been troubling him.

She scanned the room five more times, from the paint brushes, and the smocks, the mason jars of water, and the canvases uncompleted. Up and down, left to right, three-dimensionally if that was even possible. It was a wonder how a mere shed could somehow contain all of Xavier Thorpe’s life, heart, and soul.

She made sure to shy away from the whole romance thing, or at least she made the conversation never lead there. To keep your feelings in tact. But this, this was different. This wasn’t just him calling Bianca pretty in ninth grade, this was —

Had he fallen in love with someone else? She couldn’t even accuse him of that, it wasn’t like she was ever in the running of someone he was in love with. But was she the reason he’d been so preoccupied? Because his best friend wouldn’t let him talk about the person who was taking up his mind?

She focused on one in particular, a canvas bigger than all the others and some paint still wet.

Moonlight was painted from the sky, the moon was more of a rose if you looked at the highlights, a white rose. And her head was turned to it, she had the type of beauty where you didn’t even need to see her face — the essence of her was just enough.

Just like all the other things she was featured in.

Who even was she?

“Do you like it?” He asked from behind her with a grin, a box wrapped with a pretty ribbon held in his hands, “I’ve been working on it for a little bit but it was too hard to get the face completely right. . . I guess I needed to see it up close again.”

“So is this where you bring all of your girls?” She asked shortly, a little shake in her voice as she didn’t bother to look up at his green eyes she could feel staring a hole into her.

“All of my girls?” He questioned, a slight offense in his voice, “Come on, [ your name ].”

“I mean, just look at all of this, obviously there’s some girl who provoked all of this and you haven’t felt comfortable telling me about her.”

Some girl, was an understatement. For weeks since they’d gone to the dance together, it became harder and harder for him to keep his feelings about her just tucked to the bottom of his heart. But it was something about moonlight, the way it bounced off of the white crystals of her dress and reflected right to her eyes.

Beauty was an understatement for [ your name ], and to attempt to get it all out had presented itself as more difficult than he thought. She’d been the subject of his drawings before but drawing it, dreaming of her was something different this time.

Like he could feel something clawing its way out the heart valve he’d pushed it down into.

Day in and day out, he sketched sharp and soft, attempting to get all that was on his mind out of his head and onto some paper. Push back the thoughts of his friend, his dearest, loveliest, most enchanting friend.

Was she even interested in him? Was he mistaking a healthy friendship with someone who made him happier than ever, for something romantic? Was he one of those guys who did that? Had he been ignoring her for the last month?

He figured he had, judging by the sad puppy dog eyes that would settle on her soft features when he’d finally look up at her. So, he finally took Rowan’s words of encouragement and manned up about it. He even used an extra amount of the shea butter lotion she gifted him after he complained about how dry his skin was.

He never knew how her skin was so soft but apparently, lotioning straight out of the shower was a part of a lot of people’s normal routine.

A walk through the woods surrounding Nevermore, just when the sun started to rest. A note he left by her room door. So, they met with music and some snacks tucked away in her tote bag.

It made for an easy way to get out of actually doing it if he inevitably chickened out, and a way to make it up to her nonetheless.

And now, somehow, with everything surrounding them, she was just as clueless as he was.

“You don’t have to lie Xavier. There’s literally fifteen, probably more actually, drawings here that have her as the center of attention. You shouldn’t have to feel like you in order to protect my feelings you have to hide yours.”

He stayed quiet, confused. But then he smiled.

“Protect your feelings?”

She sighed, feeling a little defeated, “I’m so sorry,” she groaned, hiding her face in her hands.

“You just brought me to this beautiful makeshift art shed, like literally with neon letters saying how much you love whatever girl this is — and I’m telling you that I love you.”

“I brought you here, because I wanted to apologize for how I’ve been acting. And share this place with you because you mean a lot to me. Not to, rub yourself in your face,” he clarified, letting go of a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.

“What?” Her voice was small as her eyebrows furrowed beneath the cracks of her fingers.

“I’m really, really sorry that I’ve been ignoring you these past few weeks [ your name ].”

He sat down the gift and wiggled her wrists until she gave up resistance. Slowly, he lifted her head back up to look her in the eyes.

“I didn’t mean to hurt you and me deciding if I wanted to show you all of this doesn’t excuse me being a dick. I treated you like a second thought. And I’m sorry. And this isn’t the first time I’ve done this, yeah?”

She hummed.

“Well, this is me promising to not close you off about things anymore. If I can’t tell you right then and there, I’ll let you know — I won’t just leave you in the dark.”

“So what are you saying Xavier?” She asked with a small smirk, voice leveling out.

“Well I’m confessing my love to you for one, and also saying that doing that shouldn’t start with you feeling like I’m ever gonna treat you like that — ever. And it’s not fair that I’ve been doing that.”

He redirected their attention to the painting that had started it all.

“This painting was after the rave’n when you needed to take a break outside. You said that it was too bright, and took off your corsage to hold it up to the moon. It’s been on my mind for weeks,” he breathed, a weight on his chest lifting as her smile grew and grew at his explanation.

He took both of her soft hands in his, not sure which of theirs was responsible for the clamminess.

“I’m telling you that ‘this girl’ is you. You’re my only girl [ your name ].”

“Oh. Wow. Oh my gosh,” she laughed, her face warm and burning as she hid it in his chest, “I’ve never been so jealous of myself before.”

“I think you were on the verge of crying.”

“A little, yeah.”

“But apology accepted. As long as you can acknowledge your acting like a dick and work on not being so dickish, it makes me happy and means a lot that you’re working to do better.”

He bit the inside of his check nervously, giving her a look of ‘what’s next’?

“I’m gonna need you to actually ask me Xavier,” she whisper teased, stepping so close that their heartbeats could sync together.

“Will you. Let me be your boyfriend. [ first name ] [ last name ]?”

His face dropped as she grimaced, “Oh I don’t know Thorpe, I’d have to check with the others. I’m a very popular lady this year, busy schedule, full happy planner— ”

He cut her off with an abrupt kiss, just wanting to close that painful space. But slow, and innocent in nature — hesitant as he chose where he wanted to go.

With such tenderness, he enveloped her top lip, consuming the crisp taste of a strawberry wafer in her mouth and from his, the three cuties he'd just stressed eaten on the way. They waited there for a moment or three, before breathing into each other's mouths.

They shared light smiles on each other's lips before she leaned in for a second.

“Are you free now?”

a continuation is being written ( headcanon form ) where he gives her the gift :)

thank you for reading, every like and reblog is appreciated 🌷 !

#— xavier thorpe.#xavier thorpe x reader #xavier thorpe x y/n #xavier thorpe x you #xavier thorpe imagine #xavier thorpe oneshot #xavier thorpe blurb #xavier thorpe x fem!reader #xavier thorpe angst

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indiana-jonas · 4 months

Text

The two invisible steps before you make something

When I made comic strips in the past I would often jump straight into drawing the first panel. I’d just wing it and then improvise each following panel. Sometimes it worked out.

An improvised strip from my old series “Us with plants on our heads.”

But often it just turned into nonsensical crap.

I don’t get this one myself.

I often started drawing a strip and gave up cause I didn’t know what to do.

I thought I was supposed to be able to fart out great comics with ease. But I squeezed and squeezed. I was too eager. Without being aware of it, I tried to do 3 steps all at once. To continue this (f)art metaphor - before anything comes out of you, you’ve gotta 1. find something you want to eat, 2. digest it, 3. let it come out. The problem was that I hadn’t eaten or digested anything.

To put it in a more dignified way.

The first step is to search,

the second is to make sense of,

the third is to make it.

I used to skip the first two steps, I wanted to get straight into making shit. But that often turned into nonsensical crap, or I would run into a wall and give up.

The third step (to make it) is the most obvious one. Despite it being the most obvious step, I got completely stuck on it because I hadn’t gone through the first two.

If you are reading this, it’s likely you already know how to make something. I think these first two steps are identical no matter what medium you are creating in. So I will take the liberty of not going into detail about how to make something.

Instead of trying to think of products first, what any creative person should try to do is think, search and wonder. Think about real things, notice what makes you feel stuff - what is close to your heart if everything else is stripped away? Ideally projects will emerge from the collection of the thoughts you have collected, or at least be designed/conceived in a way that can package your thoughts as nicely as possible.

There’s nothing quite as uninspiring as a blank canvas. 85% of the time a blank canvas only makes me feel dread or boredom. If you come up with a great idea while looking at a canvas it’s not because you looked at a canvas, it’s despite looking at it. Whatever great ideas I have managed to conjure while looking at that white rectangle has always come from something else - an inspiring movie scene, something from my day, a lingering thought, or a line from a song.

Now I’ve abandoned blank canvases, I never start from one. Neither when I write or draw.

Instead, I live in search of noteworthy thoughts. Regardless of whether you know what a thought will be useful for, jot them down somewhere.

To search is just to live life with a keen eye, ear and heart and to make sure you don’t forget.

When I stare at a blank canvas The Search becomes stressful and I want to avoid it. But in reality, if I admit that The Search is part of the process, it becomes the most peaceful and interesting step of them all. It’s just living with a secret mission - to be human and to find out what’s special about that to you.

And of course you need to make sure you don’t forget those thoughts for the next step.

Make sense of

Now that you’ve been out in the world and discovered stuff, it’s time to sit down somewhere, sift through and examine your haul. You might be overwhelmed by how much is in there. You’ll never be able to use everything. So you just gotta use your intuition. See what stands out, group things, talk with someone - do ANYTHING you want with it until you find what’s hiding there.

Your notes are a collection of countless puzzles. Some puzzles are hundreds of pieces big, others are just one or three. Some pieces fit into more than one puzzle. You don’t know. Often you’ll have to find a few pieces in your head to complete a puzzle, while other pieces might still be hidden out there in the world.

The way to make sense of a puzzle is to try to put it together, or to be literal; try to explain it as clearly as you can. Ask yourself, “how can I prove to someone else that this is true?” And ideally not just make them understand it, but also feel it. That’s the puzzle you gotta solve.

Let me give you an example.

I found myself frustrated that we live life too much through screens and I want to make a Space Deer comic strip. That’s the idea I want to make sense of and the filter that I will examine my idea through.

First I will ask myself, “ok, why is that idea true?”- I think life needs balance, you shouldn’t stare too much of it away through a pixelated representation of it. Then I ask myself, “how should we live then?”- We should go outside and get our boots in the mud more, what we will really remember is probably gonna happen out there. And then I try to think of a situation where I can show as clearly as possible that this is right. I’m afraid this message might be tired or preachy, especially if I would aim the message directly at someone like us (you know, someone who’s currently looking at a screen). Luckily the imagery of my comic gives me other symbols to play with.

So I thought of how I could show that in four comic panels and wrote down this.

Space Deer walks on a desolate planet. They encounter a mars rover. They scream “get out here and live!!” NASA people see Space Deer through their screens.

It’s simple, but it gets the idea across. Normally I would like to make it clear that Space Deer is really out there and living freely, to show what these researches are missing out on. But in the comic we will see Space Deer explore and go on all kinds of adventures, so that’s something I didn’t feel like I needed to put more emphasis on. I trust the reader to make that connection themself.

Sometimes making sense of an idea can be much harder, in this example the idea was an entire puzzle on its own, or maybe I had the remaining pieces in my head already. Sometimes all you need is just one piece in front of you to know where to look for the rest.

Make it

And then of course the last step is to just make it. (Step 4 is to share it. Step 5 is to repeat it.)

I have made decent comic strips despite jumping straight into drawing, or so I’ve thought. Thinking back on it, I just managed to search and make sense of an idea as I was drawing. I didn’t magically skip two steps, that’s impossible. I was just not aware of what I was doing.

Now that I know the steps, I’m much better at understanding why I tend to get stuck in different parts of the process.

In reality these steps are not always as clear cut. They will blend into each other, you might do some back and forth, making sense of and making something is a fuzzy line. This is not so much a step-by-step process as it is a journey you have to go through. It has definitely helped me to be more methodical and intentional about it though. I’ve set myself up in a way where it’s fun for me to get each step done. I might go into that in the future.

If you only take one thing with you from this - I hope it’s that you will be aware of and feel more at peace with the first two steps.

--------

If you found this interesting then you might enjoy these blog posts too.

When you don't know what to draw

I will never find my art style

Lazy imagination isn't bad

Thank you for reading my thoughts!

#artists on tumblr #indiana-jonas #writing #drawing tutorial #art advice #comic strip #creativity #art block #writers block

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kirby-souljourney-au · 1 month

Text

Meta time!!!!

No, I didn’t forget he had a cape until I was almost finished, I knew the entire time I swear. (I definitely forgot.)

Once again, this man takes up too much canvas space for me to put his scar map in the same one as his full ref, so he needs a separate image as well.

All his information and hex codes are under the cut, as usual!

I still can’t draw abs. And I’m sorry this took kinda long, I got distracted… the Taboo rewrite & the planning for the fic itself has a vice grip on my soul.

Full name: Ione Argon

Aliases: Meta Knight, ‘Nene’ (don’t call him that unless you’re his friend)

Species: Earthling Dragon (Fire/Ground) x Dream-Dark-Matter Astral Hybrid

Planet of Origination: Popstar

Age: 231

Height: 6’10”

Gender: Intersex; identifies as non-binary

Pronouns: He/Him/His

Sexuality: Multi-spec lesbian, asexual

S/O: Galacta Iriam (fiancée) (and Ophanim/Morpho EX (girlfriend), in the future)

Family: Hano Agron (biological mother), Ekia Argon (older sister), Vaga Argon (older sister), Sirv Argon (younger brother), Kirby Argon (adopted son) (as well as Athena Iriam (daughter), in the future)

The famous Meta Knight of the Galaxy Soldier Army, well-known for his title and sacred blade, Galaxia.

Engaged to Galacta Iriam — currently has no biological children with him, but adopted 14-year-old Kirby as their son when he was aged 6.

Works as a Knight under Dreamland’s King Dedede, and is head of Castle Dedede’s Royal Guard.

Quiet and seemingly apathetic, though kind-hearted and meaning nothing but well, he finds general difficulty in befriending others due to his somewhat off-putting demeanour. He is very kind, though, just ultimately socially awkward and nervous as an individual.

He joined the GSA the second he turned 19, believing himself to be responsible for the safety of the Galaxy due to his Astral heritage, as well as to get as far away from his mother as possible. He worked with them for the majority of his life since he joined, until an attack by Nightmare wiped out nearly all the GSA’s forces and scattered those that remained. He’s worked for King Dedede as his Knight for about 30 years, and finds genuine enjoyment in his current job.

His weapon of choice is the sacred Master Sword, a sentient enchanted blade named Galaxia. He also uses his natural Fire magic, and on rare occasion, Dream Magic, when necessary. Very well-trained in swordplay, and certainly no easy opponent.

Hex codes

Both:

4F3224 — Scars

311A0F — Skin

101010 — Socks / Gloves

120E1C — Fuzz fade / Cape back

1D1D47 — Hair / Fuzz base

E0BEFF — Inner ears / Wing webbing

FCC66F — Iris 1

FFFFFF — Wing talons

BFBFBF — Ring / Thigh guards (or whatever they’re called) / Arm guards

Armoured:

18122B — Chestplate & Pauldrons 1

2C2240 — Battle shirt (?)

32353E — Pants

6B5B86 — Straps

CCCFFD — ‘M’ symbol

472A77 — Sabatons

E4C69A — Chestplate & Pauldrons 2

000000 — Inner cape (plus multicoloured Nebulae)

Unarmoured:

1A1A1B — Shirt

343434 — Face mask / Dress pants

D2CDC4 — Iris 2

FFFBF4 — Eye whites

Tail-tip:

08003D — Base / Fade 1 (using Nebula brush)

00113D — Fade 2 (using Nebula brush)

0046FF — ‘Star’ patterning (using Glimmer brush on Hard Light, with base & fade colours overlaid on top using a clipping-mask Colour layer)

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gennyanydots · 11 months

Text

Take Me With You Ch. 2

Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x f!reader

Take me with you masterlist

Top Gun Biker!au

Chapter summary: It happens again….. wait…. What happens again?

Slight overlap with my Biker Bradley fic This is love I just can’t live without

Ch. 2 “Let’s make trouble in the dream world”

He opens his eyes and looks around. Everything is vaguely familiar but it feels off. Something is different. He can’t quite put his finger on it. He can feel his chest tightening with anxiety.

“What’s with the face, handsome?” He knows the voice. Right? His princess. He knows it better than he knows his own voice. That’s probably due to the whole can’t quite hear yourself talk thing due to your ear being so close to your mouth but that doesn’t matter, he still knows everything about her better than himself. Everything.

He clears his throat. How does one explain how he’s feeling? He doesn’t even know how he’s feeling but it's beginning to make his skin crawl. Something is wrong. What could be wrong? Nothing could be wrong if his princess is here.

He looks around. Nothing around him seems off. He knows this place. He’s seen it enough times. Every night. Right?

But why? Why does he see this every night? Why this exact scene? And how long? How long has he been here? Is he trapped? He doesn’t feel trapped. What's happening? Why here? Why this spot?

He shakes his head turning to his love with a wide smile, “There’s nothing with my face, princess. Especially if you ask that and then call me handsome. That’s counterintuitive, pretty girl.”

She giggles and cups his cheek, “I wasn’t saying you weren’t handsome. You just had a weird look on your face. Is something wrong? I hope not. Wouldn’t ever want something to be wrong with you.”

He shook his head again. He doesn’t want to worry her. There’s nothing wrong. Nothing. Can’t be. He has his princess here and that’s all he needs anyway. Why does it matter that he's here every night? It doesn’t if it means he’s with her. He would do anything to stay with her. Anything.

“Have you ever felt like you’ve been here before?” He asked her while gazing into her eyes. God, she’s beautiful. He could die here happy.

She shrugs then buries her face in his chest, nuzzling in close, “Like deja vu? I guess. Doesn’t everyone?”

He wraps his arms around her, holding her close to his body, “Maybe. Should we canvas the area and find out?”

He hears her snort and snickers, “What in the hell was that, princess?”

She pulls away slightly to be able to look up at him with a pretend cross look on her face, “Shut up! Don’t bring it up! Never happened!”

He laughs before leaning down to kiss her forehead, “Never happened. Don’t know what I thought I heard. Must have been the wind.”

She nodded, “You’re exactly right it was the wind.”

Jake grinned. He loved this. Just hanging out with his best girl. Goofing around. See? He knew nothing was wrong. What was he even worried about?

“Hey Jakey?”

“Yeah, princess?”

“I hear people,” Jake looked down at her and she had a worried look on her face as she said that.

Jake shook his head, “Ignore them. It’s not time yet. I’m not done with you yet. Let me have this. Please.” Time for what? What was happening? Why did he say that? And have what?

“They’re getting louder,” she cuddled closer to him.

“It’s okay. We won’t pay attention to them. We don’t have to leave. We don’t have to,” he said, not entirely sure why they would have to leave. Somewhere in his brain he was making sense of this all. If only it was shared with the rest of the class. Who was coming? He racked his brain trying to remember this day. He couldn’t remember this part. He didn’t seem to remember any part of it at all but he should! He was there! Or well here or whatever. This happened. He can’t forget this. He has to hold onto this. He needs to remember when he wakes up.

He whimpers. He can’t keep losing her every day. It hurts. So much. Why does this keep happening?

“Jakey, I think it’s time,” she says, reaching up to place her hands on either side of his face.

He shakes his head back and forth squeezing his eyes shut. If he doesn’t wake up he doesn’t lose her. It’s foolproof. It’ll work. He tries to drown out the voices he hears. Is that Bradley? Doesn’t matter. He’s not waking up.

She leans up and kisses his lips softly, “I gotta go, handsome. I love you.”

“No, no, no, no, stay with me. Don’t go. Please…..please….please,” Jake whines clutching her to him.

“Wake up, babe,” she whispers in his ear before he’s shooting up into a sitting position, panting.

Baby Ice yelps and pulls her hand back away from Jake while Bradley grabs her shoulders to pull her away from him.

“What…what happened?” Jake asks while panting and looking over at Bradley and Baby Ice.

“You were whimpering and shaking your head in your sleep. Then you started to talk,” Baby Ice explained as she took a step back towards Jake.

Jake groans and wipes a hand down his face, “Any clue what I was sayin’?”

Bradley nodded, “You were saying no and please a lot. You also said ‘stay with me’ and ‘don’t go’ , nothing else I don’t think.”

Baby Ice shook her head agreeing with Bradley that there was nothing else.

Jake takes a deep breath, “Okay, cool. Thanks. Soooooo what’s up with all this?” He points to the two of them.

“We’re heading out. Got some stuff to do,” Bradley says as he waves and grabs her hand to pull her with him towards the door.

“Have fun!” Jake calls from his position on the couch.

Once they're gone Jake swings his legs to the side to sit on the couch normally.

Why does it feel like things are getting worse when he’s sleeping? He doesn’t remember his dreams still but something has to be happening in them, right? It can’t be normal to wake up like this.

Maybe he should talk to someone but who? Maybe a sleep doctor? Maybe the doctor he saw for his accident? He needs answers.

#jake seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x female reader #hangman x f!reader #top gun biker!au #take me with you

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scorpiongrassfield · 8 months

Text

The Dread Lingers

Start | Prev

The fear is clinging to you like tree sap, tacky and unpleasant. Still, you find yourself getting ready for the day, almost as if on auto pilot.

Once you and Pat are both ready, you carry your supplies and Theo’s paint out into the car.

“We’re picking up breakfast on our way. Can you ask Theo what he wants?” Pat says as they get into the driver’s seat.

You send a text after you get your seatbelt on.

The silence grates on you like sandpaper, making you feel raw.

You put some music on without asking.

Pat doesn’t seem to mind.

“Theo says he’s not hungry,” you relay once you get a response.

Pat snorts. “What am I going to do with you kids,” they say, shaking their head. “Tell him I insist. He can eat it later when he is hungry,” Pat says like they aren’t the one being weird.

You frown, but send another text.

“Why do you do that?” you ask.

“Do what?”

“Insist on feeding people? Theo doesn’t need to eat anymore, and he’s not even hungry,” you point out.

Pat doesn’t answer for a long time. Theo texts back, but you don’t look at it yet.

“My mamá always told me that the best way to show someone you care about them is to make sure they’re well fed. Ghosts might not need to eat, but they deserve to be cared for nonetheless,” they say.

That’s… Despite how annoying it’s been for you personally, that’s very sweet.

“Theo says he’ll accept black tea and some sort of baked good if we are going to a place that has them,” you say instead of continuing the conversation at hand.

“We’ll have to make sure we go somewhere that has them, then,” Pat says.

You let the conversation drop there.

Pat can focus on driving, and you can focus on not feeling anything or thinking about anything too hard.

Because you feel like a lit match and everything you’re avoiding is an oil slick.

Forget about tearing the canvas, you think you’d burn the whole stack if you don’t keep this under control.

You focus on the music instead.

The next song that comes on is AFI’s of Greetings and Goodbyes. Pat sighs, but you can’t tell if they’re side-eyeing you or not through their sunglasses.

You don’t skip the song. If they want different music they can say so.

You choose to stay in the car while Pat goes in and gets the food.

“Do you have any preference on what I get you?” Pat asks, already standing outside the car.

“No.” You really don’t care.

Then you remember something.

“Oh, wait. Don’t forget to get some sugar for Theo’s tea,” you call out the rolled down window.

Pat gives you a thumbs up without turning around as they walk into the coffee shop.

And oh, there’s a little mystery you can think about instead of your own impending doom.

How did you know that Theo liked his tea sweet?

At the time you had brushed it off as a hunch. But you’re starting to think maybe it has something to do with the shadow. It made you sweet tea in the exact same manner in that kitchen. You copied it’s movements when making tea there yourself.

Is it a coincidence that Theo also likes his tea sweet? Or is that something that the shadow knew as a result of possessing Theo?

The smell of tobacco rouses you from your thoughts.

“Ah. Busted,” Pat says with a smile that is not even one bit apologetic.

“I was hoping you’d stay zoned out long enough for me to not get an earful,” they say.

They’re standing outside the car, smoking.

“Pat,” you say flatly.

They just shrug, taking their time to finish their cigarette.

“What about breakfast?” you ask.

“The bag’s on the floor in the back seat,” they say. A glance back there confirms it. There’s one of those cardboard drink holders, too.

“I’ll still be warm by the time we get to Theo’s. And if it’s not, you can yell at me then,” they say, easygoing as they ever are.

You give them a look, but don’t comment further on it.

Pat gets back into the car, putting their cigarette butt into the trash bag they keep on the back of their seat.

“You said you’d answer my questions now,” you start as they get buckled back in.

Pat freezes for a moment. “I did…” they say, sounding suspicious. They pull out of the parking lot.

“What do you know about possession? Like, how does it work?”

Pat blows out a long breath. “We’re really hitting with the hard questions before 9 today, huh?” they complain, but there’s no real bite to it.

“Possession, as far as I know, and I don’t see much of it, is just like… A ghost puppetting the body of an alive person. And Ametrine has implied that if that goes on for too long it damages the soul of the living person, and if it does too much damage, the ghost gets to keep the body,” Pat explains.

“What happens to the other person in that case?”

Pat shrugs. “Dunno. I think it’s a little like what happens when a ghost gets exorcized. But I’ve never seen it happen, so that’s speculation.”

You absorb the new information without a word.

After a bit, Pat pipes up again.

“You know, that’s why I didn’t think it was likely that a ghost could get possessed,” they say.

“Oh?” you prompt, when they don’t continue right away.

“Yeah. Ghosts that you see around don’t actually have a physical body there to puppet. What we see as their body is just an illusory projection of the soul,” Pat finally elaborates, tapping their fingers against the steering wheel.

“But if a ghost could get into another ghost’s soul I guess they could puppet that? I think that would do a lot of damage though,” they say.

“Is the shadow hurting Theo by doing it?” you ask, concerned.

“No idea. I know very little about this, and probably even less than I thought I did, considering that one of the fundamental facts about ghosts I knew proved to be false,” they say with a sigh.

“Was it really that important to you?” you ask.

“Yeah. I like knowing things, and I like being sure of things. If you woke up tomorrow and someone like, disproved that birds use their wings to fly and instead were just levitating, you might be upset too,” Pat says.

“Is that really the same thing?”

Pat sighs again. “Probably not? But I can’t think of a good analogy for it. And honestly, I’m not actually as upset about it as I should be. Instead I’m upset because I have this weird sense that I’ve known it all along.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that instead of the shock and uneasiness that comes from having a foundational truth upended, I feel like I would if I’d always known it. Not like I forgot and then remembered, either. It’s weird and I don’t like it,” they whine.

“That does sound unpleasant,” you try to sound comforting.

“It is,” they say. “Anyway. Back to your shadow friend. Are you sure that you can trust them? If they’re hurting Theo, there’s no saying that they wouldn’t hurt you too, given the chance,” they cation.

You shake your head. “I really don’t think the shadow would do that.”

Pat sighs and shrugs. “If you say so. They could always be posing as a guardian for nefarious purposes, but I’ll trust your judgement on this one,” they relent.

As you pull into Theo’s driveway, it strikes you as odd that it always seems to take you exactly as long to drive to a place as necessary to have whatever conversation you and Pat happen to be having.

“You take Theo’s presents and go knock, I’ll gather up breakfast and the murder board stuff, okay?” Pat says as they put the car in park.

“You’re going to carry all of that by yourself?”

They consider it. “Okay, you can take the breakfast stuff in too, if you can manage it.”

“Sure.”

Both of you get out of the car, and you head up the walk with your stuff in hand.

The cabin feels like it’s smiling menacingly at you. You ignore that in favor of knocking on the door. You have to shuffle the stuff around to get a free hand, but you manage it in the end.

Theo answers the door rather quickly.

“Hello, Sylv,” Theo greets with a smile. “Here, let me help you with that,” he says, offering to take something from you.

“Hi… thanks,” you say, handing him the drink holder.

“Ah, is Pat not also here?” he asks.

“No, I’m here. Just needed to bring in our mystery solving supplies,” Pat calls as they come up the walk with an armful of cork board and a bag of art supplies in addition to their purse.

“Oh! Let me help you with that,” Theo says, and moves around you to go help them.

“Nonsense, I’ve got it just fine. Why don’t you go help Sylv set up breakfast wherever we’ll be working,” Pat says, brushing off the offer.

“Oh, okay,” Theo says with a nod. He comes back over to you and shows you inside to the living room. There are three chairs in there now. It seems Theo brought his computer chair downstairs.

Theo sets the drinks down on the coffee table. “Would you like to set your things down as well?” he asks.

You shrug and set the bag with the breakfast stuff down.

Pat sets the board down leaning up against the coffee table once they get in.

You aren’t sure what to do with the paint, so you just stand there for a second.

Pat gives you a meaningful look, pointing with their eyes over at Theo.

“Um. These are for you,” you say, offering him the bag.

“Oh?” he says, taking it, and then “Oh!” as he looks inside. “Are these-” “So you can finish your painting,” you say.

Theo’s face goes through a series of expressions, but he settles on something that looks bittersweet. “That’s so… thank you, both of you,” he says.

“Don’t sweat it. That’s what friends are for,” Pat says.

They let the sweet moment rest for a full half a minute before saying. “Now, before we get started on mystery solving, we need to have breakfast,”

“Ah, but-”

“I’m not-”

Pat cuts both of you off. “Okay, well I need to eat breakfast and I will feel very awkward about eating all by myself while the two of you watch so you’re going to have to humor me,” they say in a tone that brooks no argument.

“... Well. In that case, I suppose I will say thank you for the breakfast?” Theo hedges.

Pat gives him a big smile. “Thank you.”

You don’t say anything, but you do accept the muffin and coffee that Pat foists upon you.

“Here, for your tea,” Pat says, handing Theo several sugar packets. “Oh. Thank you,” Theo says. “Um. Is there… really any point to it, if I can’t taste it though?” he asks.

Pat shrugs. “I imagine I’d still want to do things they way I like to do them even if I couldn’t sense some aspect of it anymore, but that’s just me. Do what you want... A long as it isn’t skipping meals,” they say.

You try not to laugh. That could practically be Pat’s motto, you think.

#choose your own adventure #interactive fiction #writeblr #original writing

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camping-with-monsters · 1 year

Text

Genuinely speaking, what was up with people (on Twitter, mostly) spreading around screenshots of random artists posting their art improvements and people getting upset that their art had a “downgrade” and that they actually went backwards on improvement with their art. I remember there being an underlying issue that was the cause of this sudden thing, frankly I don’t 100% remember what it was. Now I don’t know too much about the people they usually did this with, if I had to be honest. Maybe the people/screenshots they always referenced were not great people. Regardless of whatever, here’s my two cents on that action as a whole, completely disregarding whatever that original issue was, cause I’m not opposed to believing that this still happens to unassuming artists trying to mind their own business.

I guess y’all have never once considered that improvement is a versatile thing with art. Maybe people’s art styles seem to change to, what you consider as, “for the worst” because you look at it with a blind eye based on a scale of “high quality art” vs “low/lower quality art”. That’s black and white. Whatever happened to considering the art process? Maybe for some artists, the style changes you consider “downgrades” are easier on the artist to work with. More efficient for them, even. The efficiency of making the process easier for them plus having a style to correlate with the tweaking of their process is improvement on it’s own. Sure, maybe their art looks different than it did some time back, but that’s because art is ever changing for everyone.

People draw what they want however they want, and if they want to switch up the process on how they make art, that’s not for you, the person who did not draw their art, to judge. I promise you that the artist probably doesn’t actually care if you miss their old style. Maybe they don’t miss it. And maybe they don’t miss it for a number of reasons other than quality. Maybe they didn’t like a certain thing they did with their shading, or didn’t like that they were spending 5 hours on perfecting the linework (I’ve been there before, it’s tedious.). Maybe that artist wanted to add steps to their process or rid of unnecessary ones. Improvement with art is not specific just to the changes of quality of their art. Drawing is a process— it’s not easy without practice and can sometimes be stressful and strain you. Your body hurts from arching your neck so low into a sketchbook or your fingers hurt from using a pen for so long. Your eyes and head hurt from staring into a digital screen for so long, and often you forget about your own physical needs because you just have to get this one detail right first.

Everyone who doesn’t draw will digress. “Art is easy”. No. It’s. Not. It’s only easy for you because all you have to do is look at it.

You do not get to decide if or how an artist has improved or whether or not they have improved at all. You will never be able to see a piece the same way as the artist who put time and effort into their craft as if nursing their own young. It’s not your job to make comments or even critiques unless the artist has opened up to the idea, whether or not you mean it with lighthearted or helpful intentions. Your job, as the viewer of the art, is to view and to share the art. That’s literally it. You are not, and never will be, entitled to tell an artist that they have somehow not improved. You didn’t make their art. You don’t know why they made these changes. You don’t get to question that. Their art improvement does not lie just within whatever’s on the canvas. You love the art, but often forget that there is a person behind said canvas who meticulously plans every stroke of their brush, what colors to use, and like Atlas with the world on his back, they carry with them years worth of practicing how to draw eyes, hands, backgrounds, perspectives, this thing, that thing, you name it. You forget about the fact that people (the same kind that you are criticizing) are the only things that can create the things you love with their love. By insulting what you deem as “bad improvement” by your standards, you insult the entire process; not just what you see firsthand. Think whatever you want to think in your head— but you best trap it if your words could offend, lest you find yourself taking just one organism off of a food web, throwing the entire course on its side.

Honest to god, what happened to being happy for someone making a positive change for themselves that they are happy with themselves?

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