#even when it's not that easy

[inkskinned]

the thing about art is that it was always supposed to be about us, about the human-ness of us, the impossible and beautiful reality that we (for centuries) have stood still, transfixed by music. that we can close our eyes and cry about the same book passage; the events of which aren't real and never happened. theatre in shakespeare's time was as real as it is now; we all laugh at the same cue (pursued by bear), separated hundreds of years apart.

three years ago my housemates were jamming outdoors, just messing around with their instruments, mostly just making noise. our neighbors - shy, cautious, a little sheepish - sat down and started playing. i don't really know how it happened; i was somehow in charge of dancing, barefoot and laughing - but i looked up, and our yard was full of people. kids stacked on the shoulders of parents. old couples holding hands. someone had brought sidewalk chalk; our front walk became a riot of color. someone ran in with a flute and played the most astounding solo i've ever heard in my life, upright and wiggling, skipping as she did so. she only paused because the violin player was kicking his heels up and she was laughing too hard to continue.

two weeks ago my friend and i met in the basement of her apartment complex so she could work out a piece of choreography. we have a language barrier - i'm not as good at ASL as i'd like to be (i'm still learning!) so we communicate mostly through the notes app and this strange secret language of dancers - we have the same movement vocabulary. the two of us cracking jokes at each other, giggling. there were kids in the basement too, who had been playing soccer until we took up the far corner of the room. one by one they made their slow way over like feral cats - they laid down, belly-flat against the floor, just watching. my friend and i were not in tutus - we were in slouchy shirts and leggings and socks. nothing fancy. but when i asked the kids would you like to dance too? they were immediately on their feet and spinning. i love when people dance with abandon, the wild and leggy fervor of childhood. i think it is gorgeous.

their adults showed up eventually, and a few of them said hey, let's not bother the nice ladies. but they weren't bothering us, they were just having fun - so. a few of the adults started dancing awkwardly along, and then most of the adults. someone brought down a better sound system. someone opened a watermelon and started handing out slices. it was 8 PM on a tuesday and nothing about that day was particularly special; we might as well party.

one time i hosted a free "paint along party" and about 20 adults worked quietly while i taught them how to paint nessie. one time i taught community dance classes and so many people showed up we had to move the whole thing outside. we used chairs and coatracks to balance. one time i showed up to a random band playing in a random location, and the whole thing got packed so quickly we had to open every door and window in the place.

i don't think i can tell you how much people want to be making art and engaging with art. they want to, desperately. so many people would be stunning artists, but they are lied to and told from a very young age that art only matters if it is planned, purposeful, beautiful. that if you have an idea, you need to be able to express it perfectly. this is not true. you don't get only 1 chance to communicate. you can spend a lifetime trying to display exactly 1 thing you can never quite language. you can just express the "!!??!!!"-ing-ness of being alive; that is something none of us really have a full grasp on creating. and even when we can't make what we want - god, it feels fucking good to try. and even just enjoying other artists - art inherently rewards the act of participating.

i wasn't raised wealthy. whenever i make a post about art, someone inevitably says something along the lines of well some of us aren't that lucky. i am not lucky; i am dedicated. i have a chronic condition, my hands are constantly in pain. i am not neurotypical, nor was i raised safe. i worked 5-7 jobs while some of these memories happened. i chose art because it mattered to me more than anything on this fucking planet - i would work 80 hours a week just so i could afford to write in 3 of them.

and i am still telling you - if you are called to make art, you are called to the part of you that is human. you do not have to be good at it. you do not have to have enormous amounts of privilege. you can just... give yourself permission. you can just say i'm going to make something now and then - go out and make it. raquel it won't be good though that is okay, i don't make good things every time either. besides. who decides what good even is?

you weren't called to make something because you wanted it to be good, you were called to make something because it is a basic instinct. you were taught to judge its worth and over-value perfection. you are doing something impossible. a god's ability: from nothing springs creation.

a few months ago i found a piece of sidewalk chalk and started drawing. within an hour i had somehow collected a small classroom of young children. their adults often brought their own chalk. i looked up and about fifteen families had joined me from around the block. we drew scrangly unicorns and messed up flowers and one girl asked me to draw charizard. i am not good at drawing. i basically drew an orb with wings. you would have thought i drew her the mona lisa. she dragged her mother over and pointed and said look! look what she drew for me and, in the moment, i admit i flinched (sorry, i don't -). but the mother just grinned at me. he's beautiful. and then she sat down and started drawing.

someone took a picture of it. it was in the local newspaper. the summary underneath said joyful and spontaneous artwork from local artists springs up in public gallery. in the picture, a little girl covered in chalk dust has her head thrown back, delighted. laughing.

#writeblr #warm up #this is longer than i wanted i really considered removing that part about myself and what i went thru #but i think it really fucking bothers me that EVERY time i talk about being an artist #ppl assume i just like. had the skill and ability to drop everything and pay for grad school. #like sir i grew up poor. my house wasn't a safe space. i gave up a FREE RIDE TO LAW SCHOOL. for THIS. bc i chose it. #was it fucking hard? was i choosing the hard thing?? yes. #but we need to stop seeing artists as lazy layabouts that can ''afford'' to just ''sit around and create'' #when MANY - if not MOST - of us are NOT like that. we have to work our fucking ASSES off. hard work. long and hard work #part of valuing artists is recognizing the amount we sacrifice to make our art. bc it doesn't just #like HAPPEN to us. also btw it rarely has anything to do with true talent. #speaking as someone with a chronic condition i hate when ppl are like u have it easy. like actively as i'm writing this my hands r #ACTIVELY hurting me. i haven't been posting bc my left hand was curled in a claw for the last week #this isn't fucking luck. after a certain point it's not even TALENT. it's dedication & sacrifice. #''u get to flounce around and do nothing with ur life'' is a narrative that is a direct result of capitalism #imagine if we said that about literally any other profession. #''oh so u give up 10 yrs of ur life to be a doctor? u sacrifice having a social life and u get SUPER in debt? #u need to work countless hours and it will often be thankless? well i wish i was that lucky'' #we should be applying that logic to landlords ONLY #''oh ur mom and dad gave u the money to buy a house? and all u did was paint it white and rent it? huh.''

[ghostbsuter]

"I can see dead people." He mentions with a shrug, using the chopsticks to fish more noodles into his mouth.

Dick stares at him. "Huh."

"Is that why you help?" He asks, getting more spring rolls.

"Yeah. Once someone becomes a ghost, word gets out quick, and they come to me. Always tatling about unfairness and justice." The kid waves the words around, rolling his eyes.

Dick just pretens to he uninterested, despite his mind racing at the new info. He is piecing past moments together, every shadow leaping away, every note with tips, leads and—

Huh.

"Do you... like it? Doing all that?" Richard approaches thus carefully, brows furrowed at the kid opposite of him.

Danny moves his head, giving a 'so-so' answer. "It's not much to like, I can see ghosts, and they know it and use it. If it brings them to peace or whatever– well, that's just a plus."

Dick stares. He places his chopsticks down and looks at Danny worried.

In turn, the kid sighs. "Sometimes gifts become curses the longer you have it."

And Dick understands.

Mind made up, he throws a pair of keys at the kid, watching fondly as the other catches them with confusion.

"Next time use these, instead of entering through the window."

Danny mock-salutes with a shit eating grin. "Yes, Officer grayson."

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #fic prompt #writing prompt #dc x dp prompt #dick really got a kid now huh #dick: oh wow how did you get in here #danny: *fist down a cereal box and cheeks syuffed full eith food* wdym #he annoys dick during his police hours #he doesnt even blink twice when he later catches him tyring to sneak in as nightwing #dick got the most chill kid ever #dick telling bruce of how easy danny is: :D #dick then finding out about every horrifying and downright traumatic wvent in ddannys past: D: #hes calling connie raven and black canary #for the ghosts and much needed therapy #dick abt danny: what a good kid! #dick abt danny after: oh god youre traumatsied #he's parenting so hard he should get an award #tbf danny gives him a makeshift trophy with “best officer pops.ever” in glittery pen

[welcometogrouchland]

[ID in ALT] I've made posts before about Talia/Dick co-parenting Damian moments (will never happen but let me dream) and this came to me in a vision. Took me ages to finish for some reason 😭 and then even longer to post

#dc comics #dc #damian wayne #dick grayson #talia al ghul #batfamily #dc robin #nightwing #anyway. yes im a self-indulgent ''dick as damians secret third parent'' truther #like i DO think it's way more complex and nuanced than the schmoopy affectionate fan portrayal of it #they're brothers they're father and son they're partners they're the dynamic duo except only in past tense etc etc #but consider! I'm not immune to schmoopy affection in fanworks. it compells me despite itself #anyway it's technically not that crazy when it comes to dick and damian. they hug! often! at least they did #it's not as big a leap to these types of scenarios #also talia ''somewhat absent for complex reasons on both her and damians part but very loving and loved by her son'' al ghul #you will always be famous to me #son of the demon origin...bwahhh #anyway. someone made a comic kind of like this/like a post i made abt this topic #but way funnier bc dick and talia starting trying to beat each other up #so go look at that as well #anyway. it's been a somewhat difficult few weeks so I'm. desperately trying to take it easy #i got some reading with me (first vol of kevin smiths GA run that i found second hand and jaimes BB run vol 2!) #so we'll see how far i get through those. considering there's demons in my head telling me to re-read things (LET ME OUT!!!) #when i finish GA and BB i do plan on rereading robin 2021. as a treat to myself #it's a run I've really warmed up to as time went on #I'm keeping up w/ the current b&r run even though it is. admittedly very slow w/ some weird dialogue #i read it for the damian content more than anything. also nikas back so that's neat :] #idk I have a feeling that after absolute power shakes out we might get some more creative team switch ups #so if anyone at dc is interested in taking over the reigns on b&r...that could be very neat #(it's me they should hire me. please DC i have ideas listen to my red hood pitch PLEASE-)

[stil-lindigo]

the machine.

a comic about being a 'creator' online.

creative notes:

#in light of recent online 'success' i feel like this may come off as ungrateful #just wanna say that all the comics i make in this series are written about experiences i felt in 2022 #which was a rough year personally and creatively #and i very luckily don't feel this way anymore #and this also isnt to shame anyone who DOES feel this way #its easy to start to feel like all you are is a vending machine of art #and like thats all you are to people #theres nothing human to you #it can be a bit of a pit #and on some level this damage is self inflicted but social media really doesnt help that feeling #this wont work for everyone but having friends around you who you can talk to about stuff that ISNT art #going outside for dinner #maybe walking around #its good for when you need that feeling to go away even a bit temporarily #youre a human being #not a mindless content creation machine #and i hope anyone who feels like this now can get to a place where they have a healthier relationship with their own work #good luck to all of you #and thank you for reading #comic art #its 10pm #stillindigo art

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

christ sometimes I just wanna. steal a time machine & go back & sit down next to my 9-year-old self and just like. let them pull out their pokemon card binder & gush about their holographic gyarados or whatever. I'd just smile & ask questions about motherfukcing bulbasaur & tell my kid self that I thought they were a neat person, & someday they'd find other people who thought so too.

like i'm a grown adult who honestly finds most kids stuff boring, but. damn if i could go back & hang out with my baby self & listen to them ramble...just so they knew someone was listening. i would in a heartbeat. thinking about u kid

#wouldn't roll my eyes or check my phone or get bored or nothing #I'd just listen to that little dork & smile & encourage them & let them explain how their favorite gameboy games worked #i was the kind of kid my adult self would find annoying & uninteresting but like #most of the actual adults in my childhood felt that way too. including my dang parents. #and ya know sometimes they showed it. a lot of times without realizing it. and that messes a kid up #if you don't make an effort kids WILL recognize your disinterest and lack of attention. #kids deserve to have caregivers who show interest and engagement #even when it's over stuff that adults find boring. especially then maybe #your kid doesn't have to be fun or interesting or easy or well behaved to deserve positive attention #they deserve positive attention because they are YOUR KID #if love is unconditional then DISPLAYS of LOVE and AFFECTION must also be unconditional #not something that must be earned #telling your kid that you love them is not enough. that is step one out of like a thousand #if you just tell your kid you love them but you don't demonstrate affection and interest and patience and warmth and etcetera #your kid isn't gonna feel loved! I Love You will just become a trite phrase that they regard with mistrust! #bitch you gotta FOLLOW THROUGH

[naturecalls111]

#black leg sanji #red leg zeff #one piece #comic #fanart #sanji vinsmoke #< the tag I use more often so just for easy navigation on my blog. #my dog of 17 years passed the other night and god knows I suck at processing things #I wanted a way to distract myself but I couldn’t Really distract myself so. #when I woke up after drawing this comic I hated how I wrote the end part #my brain was muddled so words weren’t coming to me the way I wanted it to #I was going to change it before posting it here but that feels… disingenuous. so I’m keeping it #my puppy’s name was Sunny. it’s silly of me but it makes me feel even closer to one piece now #anyway sorry for rambling #I miss my big baby

[p4nishers]

god. GOD. the underlying anger in everything terry writes really IS apparent in hogfather bc fuck u mean this is how things should be? no the fuck it shouldn't. poor people shouldn't have to be satisfied with what they get, that's just fucking capitalism. i REALLY like that terry decided to use death as projection for what he thinks bc death doesn't know anything and it has to be explained to him and by it being explained to him it shows how fucking stupid those things are. bc ok here's this world where an equivalent of santa ACTUALLY exists and, because it mirrors our world, it's still unjust. santa actually fucking exists in this world and he could give ANYONE ANYTHING bc he's essentially a god and people gave him that power by making him up, BUT because ppl imagined him in a way that poor people don't get shit (like they usually do) and rich people get EVERYTHING they want, he exists like that. whereas death has seen the absolutely WORST of humanity and he STILL thinks that's bullshit and it's not how it should be, it's just how it goes. bc capitalism is always capitalism where there's money and the world will always be fucked up as long as there are oppressor to hold it up. like i just.

#IT IS HOGSWATCH said Death AND PEOPLE DIE ON THE STREETS. PEOPLE FEAST BEHIND LIGHTED WINDOWS AND OTHER PEOPLE HAVE NO HOMES. IS THIS FAIR? #“Well of course that’s the big issue—” Albert began. THE PEASANT HAD A HANDFUL OF BEANS AND THE KING HAD SO MUCH HE WOULD NOT EVEN NOTICE #THAT WHICH HE GAVE AWAY. IS THIS FAIR? “Yeah but if you gave it all to the peasant then in a year or two he’d be just as snooty as the king #NAUGHTY AND NICE? said Death. BUT IT’S EASY TO BE NICE IF YOU’RE RICH. IS THIS FAIR? #“You did say we just had to do this so’s people’d believe—” he began and then stopped and started again. #“When it comes to fair master you yourself—”I AM EVENHANDED TO RICH AND POOR ALIKE snapped Death. #i love him i love him #discworld #gnu terry pratchett #discworld death #hogfather

[hyakunana]

POV: Even with advantage and buffs, your local folk hero just rolled 1 in Intimidation

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #larian studios #wyll ravengard #wulbren bongle #shadowheart #astarion #comics #fanart #poor wyll so polite even when intimidating #and against WULBREN OF ALL PEOPLE #'but where is barcus??' still stuck on the windmill because i forgot to rescue him whoops #im a failure of a folk hero #i kinda thought of having wulbren kickin his leg or a piece of steel watch hitting him but those would be other tests #plus im kinda on an art slump so im taking easy w myself dfghjk #like i said on twitter - i should NOT be allowed to inspo reroll after this fail - but i hit reroll too fast sdfghjklkjhgf #4th member of the team was lae'zel and i didn't know what to do with her #so i rather imagine she was offscream callin raphael to take her soul for the hammer bc she cant take this embarrassment

[a2zillustration]

Would anyone ELSE like to admit they've been personally victimized by the god or goddess they follow?

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[[ All Croissant Adventures (chronological, desktop) ]]

[[ All Croissant Adventures (app) ]]

#Larian said why bother coming up with seven original backstories when we can do religious indoctrination REALLY well #also please I'm begging everyone make sure you hit the creche I know it's easy to miss because it's in that weird offshoot area #but it's GOOD #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 spoilers #act II spoilers #croissant adventures #tav #lae'zel #gale #astarion #I love drawing little gremlin guys now lmao #Also can you believe this is comic 41! #I've made 41 of these things?! #And I'm not even halfway done! #comics

[lazylittledragon]

what do you mean youre technically a detransitioner cause of terf bullshit?

it's a v long story but i detransitioned for a couple of years when i was 16/17, for multiple reasons but mostly because i fell into the blaire white/kalvin garrah chamber of "you have to be This way to be trans otherwise you're not real".

i was already Deeply insecure about myself and my 'passing' and i was led to believe that i couldn't want to wear makeup or skirts, and i couldn't choose not to have bottom surgery, and i couldn't do anything but bind for 12+ hours a day to the point that my ribcage is still misshapen. basically i thought that if i wasn't suffering enough doing 'feminine' things, i couldn't really be trans, so i should just go back to being a girl and suck it up.

the terf bullshit is because i'd seen a lot of terfs/detransitioners talking about the 'dangers' of testosterone and how it would turn me into a horrible ugly evil monster and how there was nothing worse than wanting to be a man. which combined with 'you need to fully medically transition to be valid at all' creates some very dangerous and upsetting feelings to cope with.

it also came from trying really hard to put myself in a little box before i realised that my sexuality/gender are very fluid and it's FINE for me not to have a label and just do whatever i want. when i was 19 or so i went back to using they/them (and eventually he/him) and changed my name again because even though i like doing 'feminine' things, i don't want to be seen as a woman.

tldr: i was conditioned by transphobic/terf rhetorics to think that i was being trans the 'wrong' way so i couldn't be trans at all, so i believed i must actually be a girl if i still wanted to do 'feminine' things. nowadays i am a transmasc who does feminine things because i don't give two shits about what any transmed prick thinks of me anymore.

#ramble #ok to reblog btw i'm fine with this being shared #this was meant to be a short version but this is just the whole story whoops #sorry i realised the way i phrased it sounded like i'm the detrans you see in the news #i'm Technically a detransitioner because a lot of detrans stats are people who go on to RETRANSITION #because detransition is often because of social stigma and not because you realised you weren't trans #so anyway. terfs are cancer and if you don't think their bs is harming children you're wrong #i know it's easy to say 'you should've used your brain and realised those people were wrong' #but like. when you're 16 you're SO impressionable. even if you think you aren't #especially when you're watching people who have been transitioning longer than you and you assume they know everything #i was in my mid-late teens when 'transtrender' videos were MASSIVE and i believed it!!! and i was Not nice about those people #all they made me believe was that being trans couldn't be colourful and comfy and fun. it just had to be Pain #i hope everyone who contributed to the 'you need to be this way to be trans' mindset knows how much hurt they've caused #nowadays i don't care. go and be stargender. we have actual problems to deal with not debates about neopronouns #anyway this was long. that's the story

[inkskinned]

as we enter the start of a semester and the dreaded Hour of Making Friends us upon us... if ur ever at a loss for what to say in one of those weird social situations where you only vaguely-know people, one of my favorite questions to ask is "what is your favorite food crime." a food crime is like the food combination that you love that other people find revolting. press them to take it further than pineapple on pizza, that's rote. food crimes is a good topic that has many benefits as it turns out all people are degenerates and also it will give you some cool ideas to try out later in the privacy of your own degenerate kitchen

the other good thing to ask is "okay but has anyone here ever been someplace haunted" bc it turns out if you ask most people directly they don't believe in ghosts, but many people are like "oh yeah i lived in a haunted house. ghosts aren't real tho"

#my food crime is that i regularly make a “pasta and tuna” situation that has somehow gotten even more evil and degenerate over time. #it is a ''white wine reduction'' (it's just white wine and garlic powder & seasoning) #and tuna from a can. #and plain pasta. #if i have the spoons i will actually chop garlic for it but this tends to be my comfort food for a REALLY bad day #bc its super easy to make: #boil pasta. drain. put into bowl for later. into same pot u used for pasta. #put tuna (with oil/water from can). let fry a little for like 2-3 min. put in whatever amount of wine. season to taste. #the tuna will get a little crisp on it which is nice. important side note: #this began as a Bolognese sauce. #and one day i had to sub for tuna. i know. not ideal. i cried about it too. #somehow over time it is now its own little evil thing. i would never make someone else eat it. it is beautiful. #but yeah i don't even stir the pasta in afterwards i just slap pasta into serving bowl #slap this ''''''sauce'''''''' on top #molto bene #(i really can cook fairly well btw. this is a food crime. not a suggestion of skill or ability) #(i LOVE baking but when i cook for myself. the autism is obvious. bc i just don't understand the point of most of the steps) #(.... i can just eat the deli meat out of the bag. it is protein. i don't even have to like it. i just have to eat enough calories.) #(also i used to cook MUCH more before this apartment which is so small that i can stretch my arms out and overreach the counter length.) #(.... i'm 5.2. so.)

[canisalbus]

Absolutely sending me that vasco sleeps butt fucking naked with his weird little Victorian doll boyfriend

Different strokes for different folks.

Vasco finds sleepwear kind of unnecessary and restricting. He doesn't insist on sleeping nude and can go to bed decently dressed if the situation calls for it, but if it's up to him and he's comfortable and in trusted company, he prefers wearing very little.

Machete gets cold easily and has weird body image issues, not being properly covered tends to distress him. Plus he has a thing for high guality garments and wants to look pretty or at least passably presentable even in bed.

#Vasco grew up smothered in luxury so even though he enjoys dressing flashy and taking care of his appearances #he still ends up prioritizing comfort and convenience especially in private #the thought of somehow falling from his high lifestyle scarcely crosses his mind #Machete grew up in ascetic surroundings and wasn't allowed to have nice things until he began earning his own money as an adult #when he eventually started being able to afford silk (the softest fanciest material around but outrageously expensive) #there was no turning back he wants to wear that 24/7 #Machete thinks Vasco is hot (easy on the eyes) and hot (warm to the touch) so he may sleep butt fucking naked in his bed all he wants #and Vasco thinks Machete looks cute in his silly frilly nightgowns and he knows he wears them to feel better about himself so why not #everybody wins #answered #anonymous #Vaschete lore

[haunted-xander]

I guess old feelings don't disappear that easily

#thinking about her always and forever #trauma isnt easy to overcome and even if/when u do its not like it just leaves #rynes so used to living in anothers shadow that figuring out herself must be hard #especially when its interwoven with the complicated relationship youve had with the person you cared for the most #like ryne clearly looked up to and cared for thancred deeply even when he was fucking up #a big part of why she was struggling so much the entire time was because she wanted thancred to care for her as HER #and not just minfilia reborn #but she couldnt really see herself as anything else and thancred had his Whole Deal going on #so even after things get better and their relationshop mends itself #shed probably still have some fears about the whole situation #like what if im just a replacement still? #and such #okya thats enough ranting. im so Normal about her ok im the Normalest ever. #ryne waters #thancred waters #minfilia warde #final fantasy #final fantasy 14 #final fantasy xiv #ff14 #ffxiv #art #my art #xanders art #digital art #fan art #xander being insane about ryne

[turtleblogatlast]

Mikey and Leo episode centered around Mikey wanting to push Leo and Draxum together since Leo’s the most reluctant to give Draxum any grace (for good reason!) But, thinking on the spot, Leo says he’s gotta go do something for Hueso and “just can’t hang out right now 😔” (yes, he says the emoji out loud.)

Mikey calls his bluff and now the three of them (Mikey having grabbed a weary Draxum along) go to Hueso’s to find that yes, he actually does have a job for him. Said job asks for Leo to go with Hueso to deliver multiple pizzas to this giant yokai quite a distance away, and Hueso figured it would probably go better with Leo’s help (emphasis on probably.)

Well, Mikey decides that this would be a great bonding opportunity for them and basically invites he and Draxum along. Unfortunately for Leo, Hueso doesn’t care enough to wave away more help, though he does side-eye the wanted criminal Baron Draxum coming with them. But who is he to judge? (This choice has consequences.)

The journey goes about as terribly as you’d expect, but at least the pizzas get delivered on time.

#rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt mikey #rottmnt leo #rottmnt draxum #rottmnt hueso #listen you don’t understand #imagine mikey trying to get leo to accept draxum as a father figure only for this to push leo to purposefully turn to Hueso instead #idk I love when this accidental flaw of Mikey’s is explored and I think it meshes well with Leo’s own AND fits nicely with their dynamic #100% this ends with Leo & Hueso bonding and Mikey & Draxum bonding and Mikey & Leo bonding and even Hueso & Mikey a bit #but notably only a little Draxum & Leo - because it’s important that Leo isn’t forced to accept him imo #Leo realizing during all his denials of Draxum that oh you know who he DOES think of as family? Hueso #Draxum is trying mainly for Mikey’s sake #Hueso is too tired to care about all this family drama but is reluctantly worried about Pepino #Mikey just wants one big happy family because - that’s just easier y’know? #he tries so hard to work with everyone’s emotions that he just wants things to be easy for once #he wants love and family to be easier than it is - than has BEEN lately #gimme that heart to heart Mikey & Leo moment in this regard #by the end Leo DOES raise Draxum up a bit from ‘complete distrust’ to ‘mild side-eye’ #but it’s a long ways off if he ever gets pushed into the family tier #and also #SO MUCH SLAPSTICK COMEDY and sarcastic comedy in this episode fr #and if you’re wondering- #yes they DO fight the Yokai monster they’re delivering the pizzas to #but they get paid so it’s whatever #kinda wanna attempt to copy the style of the show and make fake screenshots of this ‘episode’ ngl

[biblically-accurate-dca]

bring it in friend!

#my art #daycare attendant #sundrop #sunnydrop #dca fandom #this was a warm up doodle but it ended up looking rlly nice so :] #even like this they manage to be cute #like usually a lot of people call them ugly but like.. sometimes when i draw them idk if its just me but like!! they look cute!!! #like i know in game they're not very easy on the eyes but like.. idk sometimes despite it all they can be cute

[neocitycafe]

Home After the Holidays (Mark)

♡ genre: hot cocoa - fluff, sweet and steamy hehe; a bit smutty with too many thoughts; i guess "new year’s time pensive cheese" is a theme for me (here’s haechan’s version from last year) ✎ words: 2.1k ✓ summary/notes: busy idol husband Mark finally returns home :’) and you’ve missed each other. a trope that i love lots. @d-nghy-ck to bronwyn, here’s a slice of pensive cheese(cake), especially for you! this cafe would probably not be here if not for this first customer who came by and said hi! wishing you all the love in the world~

──────── °∘❉∘° ────────

It’s that awkward time in late January when you’re not sure whether it’s still socially appropriate to include “Happy New Year” in your greetings. Mark had told you not to come to the airport. The weather was frigid all week and it’d be way past midnight by the time he got out of customs, and then there was the long cab ride home.

But he missed you. 

Closing the front door gently, he looks down to find his old lace-ups where he usually left them, as if he were home this whole time. Your favorite pair is set neatly next to his, and a smaller set of shoes next to those. Ones with velcro and lights that he bought a couple months back, but it felt much longer ago so quickly. You’d replaced the original laces with neon green ones, and all of Mark’s teammates cooed at how cute that was. 

The lights are dimmed and Mark finds you on the couch in a pile of blankets, where you cozied up while waiting. His heart suddenly aches thinking of you with only a little cup of chamomile tea to warm yourself and get to bed. 

He had been so busy working lately, loving what he did, creating music, making crazy new connections, show after show, press conferences, collaborations. Had he done anything for you lately? His mind races.

From where you’d dozed off, you find Mark frozen by the door. After years of knowing him, you could see his raised brows and the running thoughts behind them. His lips pressed into a thin line and his eyes shifting to the side meant self-doubt. You want to erase those worries and pour love into all the spaces where he thought he was not enough. 

“I wanted to get you flowers.” His voice cracks and you get up to close the distance between you.

“Oh Mark... I have you now.” The cold from outside has clung on to his coat, but you ignore it and wrap your arms around him more tightly. “It’s the middle of the night, silly. I don’t need flowers.”

You feel him shake his head against you, “And I wanted to be home for the holidays,” he says with a bit of a whine. 

“You’re here now.”

Looking into his eyes, you brush the hair away from his forehead and peck him on the nose. The end of the year meant holiday tour stops, special shows, concerts, and awards nights. The holidays meant the opposite of holidays for entertainers like Mark. It meant he couldn’t really be with family until afterwards. He follows you into the kitchen where you set your mug in the sink. 

“Did you miss me?” You turn when he wraps his arms around you from behind. 

You’re momentarily caught off guard by his boyish smile and a pang of longing wells up, an emptiness in your chest that had been there behind your smiles when he had video called. The answer is a thousand times yes, but you bite back the truth in favor of not worrying him. You shake your head playfully. “I don’t have to. I get to see your features in our son’s face every day.”

Mark breaks into a grin that you can’t help but match. “Is he asleep?”

“Yeah, but he sure begged to stay up! He can be a little headstrong sometimes. Like someone.” You give Mark a long look and he pouts in response. “But he finally fell asleep a couple of hours ago.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being my home.”

“You’re sappy, Mark Lee.” Nonetheless, you’re more than willing when he tilts your head for a deeper kiss. He runs the tip of his tongue along the seam of your lips and you part them to let him taste you. A familiar heat stirs in your belly, and you reach your hands up to tangle them in his hair and pull him closer. He groans into your mouth and presses you back into the kitchen counter. From this position, he places pressure where your bodies are connected, where you want it. He rocks against you once, twice, slowly, fluidly, and you pull him even closer. 

Mark’s hands knock into the stacked pots and pans behind you on the drying rack, and you’re grateful for your husband’s quick reflexes. He steadies a pan, preventing what would’ve been a huge clatter. You both freeze for a moment. 

“Easy, tiger,” you tease while throwing him a wink. “Or baby lion or cheetah or whatever small big cat you are.” 

He responds with a playful growl that is both adorable and sexy, his nose scrunching up. 

A delicious thrill runs through you as his gaze locks on you again. Knocking your legs apart and then lifting you onto the counter, Mark reminds you of how he wanted you everywhere when you were newlyweds. A tender bite between your neck and shoulder reminds you of how he wants you now. You make a mental note to call Jaemin for some babysitting this coming weekend, because you wouldn’t mind some more alone time like this. 

You tug on Mark’s hand and he knows what you mean. You slip off the counter and try not to trip over each other as you eagerly make your way to the bedroom. It’s a familiar but exhilarating path, like a choreography that your bodies move to automatically once the music starts playing.

When he finds a towel already laid out on the bed, he raises a seagull of a brow, and you can’t help but laugh. He teases, “Oooh, so you were prepared!”

You lean in to whisper in his ear, feeling cheeky and bold, “Well, my husband gets messy.”

The look in his eyes and how he kisses you next is the response you were hoping for. When you fall back into bed, it’s easy and slow. You take your time wriggling out of your clothes, and you laugh at his cute shimmy while pulling his jeans off. The both of you sigh in content when his body is above yours, skin to skin. 

Mark’s fingertips trail patterns along your sides, his left hand’s calluses from guitar playing are a little rough, but soothingly so. You map out the constellation connecting the mole on his neck, on his cheek, the tiny one on the corner of his mouth. He spends his time with his lips on your neck where you crave them, wet kisses with a slight bite that have you feeling hot all over and in want, and then you’re grateful they’re chasing paths over the crests and valleys of your body. 

Mark travels down until his face is settled between your thighs, his warm breath causing you to shiver in anticipation. He takes your hand and kisses your wrist, your palm, your fingertips, slowly and thoughtfully. He moves to do the same with your other hand. The love in his gaze staring up at you is too much for you to handle, so you close your eyes and lay your head back. And then he’s lacing your fingers together, holding your hands as his perfect mouth dives in eagerly. 

Mark isn’t shy about playing with your wetness and giving you what you crave. He laps at you with the intent of pushing you to the edge, like there’s nothing else he wants but for you to feel good, and you can’t help but arch up towards him. 

When he tires, he keeps stroking your clit with his fingers, keeping the contact consistent and insistent, and then switches back to working you with his tongue. He keeps going even when you cry out his name, your thighs close around his head, and your hips lift off the mattress as you succumb to the overwhelming pleasure.  

When he comes back up to face you, he’s surprised to find the tears falling down your cheeks and into your hair. You don’t notice it yourself until he starts worrying. 

“You okay? Did I hurt you?” 

You shake your head. “No, that was amazing.”

He rolls to his side and pulls you into his chest carefully. His eyes search your face.

The words are tumbling out before you can stop them: “I missed you. Mark… I missed you.”

You finally let yourself go.

Going to your son’s first winter concert at his school alone. You’d even saved a seat for Mark, but his filming schedule got delayed that evening. Opening holiday presents with Mark’s parents at their home, without him there. Counting down to the new year by yourself while his team celebrated their album of the year win. How you never wanted to burden him. How you understood his career and wanted to be his steady support, and yet... “I missed you so much.”

“You know you can tell me that. I’m not afraid of how you feel.” He pauses to dry your tears with gentle hands and a kiss on your cheek. “I want to know. I want to love you better.” He holds you tighter, as if capturing every bit of the emotion pouring out of you. It’s like Mark knew the exact words you needed to hear. While being laid bare and vulnerable, you feel safe and known, and now, ever grateful that your relationship is one you are both committed to growing and working out together. “Let’s talk more in the morning after some rest, yeah?”

“Thank you, Mark.” You gaze up into his shining eyes. 

“For what?”

“For being home.”

“Look who’s being cheesy now,” he teases back. 

You tug on him beneath the covers in response and Mark lets out a surprised moan. 

“Mmm, in the morning’s okay too… ah, babe. I mean, do you still want to make love now?”

You nod against his chest and laugh at his insistence on calling it lovemaking rather than sex or anything else. “Do you?”

He nods too and the boyish grin you love so much is back. You push at his shoulders and move so you’re seated above him, your thighs settled over his.

I love you, I love you, I love you. He seems to say, and you feel it in your soul. 

When you sink down onto him, you fill his presence with your closeness, as he fills yours with his. And it’s like the time and space between you disappears. All you hear is Mark, whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he loses himself in loving you, and you him. He aids with your rhythm with his hands holding your hips, and then makes the switch so you’re under him. 

There’s the softness of the sheets, his lips, your fingertips, the moonlight shining in, the sound of rustling and sighs pulled from deep within. The flush of his cheeks, your parted lips, the thrum of beating hearts, and later, the patterns slowing steadily into dreams together.

──────── °∘❉∘° ────────

You’re gladly surprised by the warmth in your bed when you wake up in the morning. Mark kicked off his side of the covers in the middle of the night as usual, leaving a mountain of blankets on top of you, so you pull them up to cover his bare chest. You probably should have showered after last night, but it was too comfortable being cuddled up. Mark’s discarded shirt is closest, so you pull it on, mind reveling in everything for a moment: his scent, his return, his closeness, your shared love. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by the bedroom door swinging open. Little hands, messy morning bed head, and eyes shining as they peer in. (You’d have to remind your son about knocking on the door again.)

He’s quick to spot the lump next to you under the blankets. “Dada!”

You smile and hold a finger to your lips. 

“Mm-hmm, yes dear, come here.” You sit up better and he clambers into your lap. “Shhh. He’s sleeping.”

His eyes are wide and he whispers rather loudly, “He’s snoring.” You cast a wistful gaze over the relaxed expression on Mark’s face, not knowing when the last time it was that he slept well. 

“Let’s let him sleep more.” You ready yourself to sneak out of bed. Your son was really getting too heavy to carry. He’s squirmy and ticklish, and of course he starts giggling almost immediately when you try to lift him, the sound bubbling out uncontrollably. Someone else you knew laughed just like that. You’re trying to get up quickly when you feel Mark’s arms wrap around you from behind. 

“Come back....”

The way he holds you tickles, and the added weight of your son makes you lose balance, so you fall back onto Mark’s chest, effectively making your family a little sandwich. Mark lets out a small grunt from the weight but he doesn’t really mind. His heart is as light as can be. His eyes are bright and his smile mischievous. He wriggles around and declares, “Love attack!!!”

There are lots of kisses and shared silliness, and you laugh until there are tears in the corners of your eyes, little crystals breathlessly kissed away too in the moment. 

—

"And at last, I open my arms wide again to give you warmth. I'll do anything to make it right. Those stars are shining on us. I'll cherish this moment, all of it, my baby. I’m gonna love you… Love doesn't come easy, girl, but loving you is easy.  Every day without you feels hollow. Because our memories refine even our imperfect moments into treasured times, I reflect, calling love a beauty."

#mark lee x reader #mark lee smut #mark lee fluff #mark lee scenarios #mark lee imagines #mark lee fanfic #nct smut #nct fluff #nct imagines #nct fanfic #nct scenarios #nct 127 smut #nct 127 fluff #nct dream fluff #nct dream smut #happy new year~ and…“I’ll be your home” 💗 #wishing you love even when it doesn’t come easy #hot cocoa w/ sea salt foam top--the kind where you get cream on your upper lip when you take a sip and reenact the scene from secret garden