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pucksandpower · 3 months

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Lessons in Anatomy

Charles Leclerc x medical student!Reader

Summary: studying can be hard … good thing your boyfriend is more than happy to let you get some hands-on experience

You let out a heavy sigh as you flip through the anatomy textbook in front of you. As a first year medical student, you’ve been spending most late nights recently trying to memorize every muscle, nerve, and blood vessel in the human body.

Lately you’ve been completely absorbed in learning about the upper limbs — the shoulders, arms, hands and fingers — and it’s all starting to blend together.

Closing the textbook, you stand up and stretch your arms above your head, feeling the pull in your deltoids and biceps. You’ve read so much about the muscles, it might help to actually palpate and feel where they are on your own body.

You lift your right arm out to the side until it’s parallel with the floor, palm facing down. Gently, you place your left hand on your right deltoid and feel the round contour of the muscle. You trace your fingertips along the borders, visualizing how the muscle attaches on the humerus bone.

“What are you doing?”

You jump at the sound of your boyfriend’s voice behind you. Lost in thought, you didn’t hear him come home.

“Oh, I’m just, uh, palpating my deltoid muscle,” you say sheepishly as you drop your arm back to your side. “Trying to get a feel for where the muscles actually are.”

Charles grins, his bright green eyes twinkling with amusement at finding you in such an odd pose. “My talented girlfriend, always studying so hard,” he says.

You can’t help but smile back at him. The two of you met in school years ago, long before Charles became an F1 driver and your life became a whirlwind of travel, media attention, and hardly getting to see each other when coupled with your own studies. Moments like this — relaxed, easy, normal — have become few and far between.

Charles walks over to you and surprises you by taking your hand and placing it onto his upper arm.

“Here, feel mine instead so you don’t have to contort yourself,” he offers. “I’ll be your anatomy model.”

You laugh lightly and begin palpating the hard, defined muscles of his arm through his thin t-shirt. You locate the boundaries of his deltoid, impressed by the athletic development.

“Very nice delts,” you say teasingly.

“Why thank you, I work out sometimes,” Charles replies with a cheeky wink.

You roll your eyes but can’t hide your smile. His playful arrogance is one of the things you love most about him.

Slowly, you map out the contours of his shoulder, mentally labeling the muscles — supraspinatus, infraspinatus, teres minor. Charles watches your focused expression with affection.

“How’s it going so far?” He asks. “Am I a good model?”

“Mmhmm,” you murmur absently, engrossed in your exploration.

You move down his arm, wrapping your hands gently around his biceps. You note the two distinct heads of the muscle.

“Can you flex for me?” You ask professionally.

Charles obliges, flexing his bicep and causing it to bulge up under your hands.

“Excellent, thank you,” you say, impressed by the muscle definition. Your fingers drift down his arm to his forearm, tracing the brachioradialis.

You are hyperaware of Charles’ eyes following your every movement. There’s an intimacy to having your hands on him like this that makes your heart beat faster. You try to remain focused, but with him standing so close, his warmth radiating onto you, it’s difficult to think clinically.

When you take his hand in yours, turning it palm up to examine the tendons along his wrist and fingers, you’re struck by its elegant beauty.

His hands may spend most days encased in racing gloves, but they still hold such graceful strength and capability. You find yourself tenderly tracing along the lines of his palm, the indentation at the base of each finger.

You look up to see Charles watching you, his expression soft and affectionate. Impulsively, you lift his hand to your lips and place a kiss along his knuckles. His eyes widen slightly in surprise before he smiles.

“I don’t think that’s part of the medical curriculum,” he says, his voice low.

You grin. “Just conducting some independent research.”

Charles lifts his other hand to lightly trace his fingertips along your jawline, leaving a trail of tingles along your skin.

“Well in that case, I think you need to continue your in-depth examination,” he murmurs.

Your pulse quickens as his fingers trail down your neck and along your collarbone. Gently, he turns you around so your back is to him and sweeps your hair over one shoulder. You shiver pleasantly at the feeling of his hands gliding along the slopes of your shoulders.

“It’s important to know the trapezius muscle,” he says close to your ear. His fingers skim down from the base of your neck, tracing the borders of the trapezius down toward your shoulder blades. You close your eyes, focusing on the sensation.

“Mmm yes, very important,” you breathe.

His hands span across your upper back, gently kneading into the muscle. You let out an appreciative sigh, the tension you’ve been carrying in your back dissolving under his touch.

Charles places a kiss to the curve of your neck as his hands work their way down your spine, counting each vertebrae.

“The vertebral column is quite elegant, don’t you think?” He murmurs against your skin. You hum in agreement, eyes still closed.

When his hands come to rest just above your waist, your breath catches in anticipation. His touch is driving you crazy but you don’t want him to stop.

Slowly, he slides his hands around your waist to your stomach, splaying his fingers possessively across your abdomen. He pulls your back against his chest until no space remains between you.

“How am I doing as your study partner?” He asks, nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“Mmm, top of the class,” you reply a little breathlessly.

He grins against your skin. “Maybe we should move this study session somewhere more comfortable.”

You turn around to face him, draping your arms lazily around his neck. “I’ll have to clear my schedule. My boyfriend’s this really busy, important Formula 1 driver, you know.”

Charles smiles, leaning in close until his nose brushes yours. “I think he can make time for you.”

He closes the remaining distance, bringing his mouth to yours in a kiss that curls your toes. You melt into him, all thoughts of anatomy and studying dissolving from your mind.

In this moment, it’s just the two of you, wrapped up in each other. The chaos of life fades away and you’re reminded why you endure the challenges of his demanding career.

Because at the end of the day, you have this — your love, steadfast and true. The rest of the world falls away and you’re home.

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nomazee · 13 days

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EVENT TIME EVENT TIME

how about.. 4:44am & dr. ratio? 🫡

AUGHH THANK U GWEN i lvoed writing ths..... first time writing dr ratio be gentle on my fragile soul

my 1k event!

—°+..｡ﾟ｡ﾟ+.*.｡.—

When Doctor Veritas Ratio walks into his very-private, very-locked, very-secluded study, he’s greeted with the unfortunate sight of you—sitting on the floor, an easel with a wide canvas set up low to the ground, oil paints sprawled absolutely everywhere.

“What the hell are you doing?”

A sheepish smile pulls at your face, as if a sweet expression will get you out of the mess you’ve made of Ratio’s personal space. It’s far too late— late? Too early? Regardless. The hour of the night-slash-morning that you’ve decided to paint in his room is not appropriate at all.

“I can explain,” you say, followed by a complete lack of an explanation as the two of you stew in silence for another half a minute.

“Why are you even awake at this hour?” Ratio scoffs, stepping around you and your hazardous art set-up as he places some irrelevant stack of books on his (thankfully untouched) desk. “You should’ve been in bed a long time ago. Soon you’ll experience delirium from lack of sleep.”

“Oh, please,” you argue, swatting a hand in his general direction playfully as you turn back to your canvas. It’s full of nauseating color, clear shapes and lines that don’t blend together in the slightest, vague animal-like forms that overlap with each other. “You’re awake too, aren’t you? Unless I really did hit delirium, and you’re just some Veritas-ghost floating around in my subconscious.”

Ratio does not get a kick out of your very funny joke. An annoyed huff escapes him, tainted with something like weariness and exhaustion. Your eyebrow twitches.

“And to answer your first question,” you prattle on, mindlessly scrubbing dried paint from the side of your hand with a wet rag, before picking up a fan brush, “I’m painting. This room is really well-ventilated, which is nice, because it would be a shame if all the fumes got to my head and zapped away my few remaining brain cells.”

That one gets a laugh out of him, probably because it’s at the expense of your own intelligence.

“There are a hundred other rooms that are exactly the same as mine,” he argues, finally turning away from his pointless shuffling of materials on his desk and facing you, looking at you while he talks to you—you know, like a normal person would. “There was no reason to infiltrate my own private study for your… painting. The door was locked, too. How did you—”

“Don’t ask silly questions, Veritas,” and you like the way each consonant of his name clicks against your lips and teeth and tongue, “I have my ways. Does it bother you that I’m defiling your good room with my frivolous fine arts endeavors?”

“Ridiculous,” his face screws up in displeasure at your assumption that he’d be so elitist to deny you of your passion. He walks around your spread of supplies again, carefully, before kneeling by your side to watch you work. As much as he’s loath to admit, you’re one of his few soft spots, and it shows in the way he traces the lines of your paint with his gaze, and the fact that he has yet to kick you out of his room. “The humanities are just as important as any other field.”

“Spoken like a true scholar,” you quip, trying to hold back the shakiness of your hands and the swaying of your body. It really is too late for this, but you’d slept through the day and felt much too awake by midnight. Setting up camp in Ratio’s room was a natural instinct.

“Go to bed,” he says, commanding yet gentle as he tugs a paintbrush from your hand. He doesn’t touch your hands, never really does, but he’s gathering your scattered, wrung-out tubes of paint and the little containers of linseed oil hidden under the easel. “It does neither you nor your artwork any good to be exhausted.”

“I’m not even tired!” you complain, dragging out your words in a whine as he nudges you with his foot in a wordless command to stand up. There’s something like a cot in the corner of his room (because he does sleep, sometimes, and often it’s between textbooks and files and loose leaf paper) and a cozy patterned blanket that’s definitely yours.

“You will be tired the second your head hits the mattress.”

“This is a really awful mattress, Ratio.”

“Don’t complain,” and his tone is harsh but you know he doesn’t mean it, because he’s pushing you back onto the little sleeping corner and tucking you into the blanket, nothing short of kindness in his hands. “You still have to clean your mess in the morning.”

Sure, you think, already drifting off. By the time you wake up, you know that your mess will be packed away in a neat pile, floor wiped clean and canvas propped safely against the wall.

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

gen taglist: @tragedy-of-commons @lasiancunin

fill out my event taglist (pinned) or my general taglist (navigation) to be tagged in upcoming works!

#nora hits 1k #dr ratio x reader #dr. ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #veritas x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #veritas ratio #hsr ratio x reader #hsr dr. ratio x reader #hsr veritas ratio x reader #hsr fic #dr. ratio fic #dr. ratio #heart pounding in my chest as i click 'post now' with a shaky finger begging and praying that i did ratio justice #me when: i cannot accurately characterize anybody at all ever

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ashwhowrites · 3 months

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Older! Rockstar! Eddie Munson x Rockstar! Reader, what if they have to do like a tour together, and they realize that they hate each other, like hate to share the stage, hate to spend time together, until the two of them end up hooking up after some drinks at some bar, then, they find each other being like all nervous with each other, because of what happened and bc they're catching feelings, but they hate each other, right? (You can write a tiny bit of angst for the "hate" part, smut and fluff!)

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! I had a lot of fun with this 🫶🏻 thank you for requesting

We got angst, we got smut and we got fluff

Rockstar love

Y/N was excited as hell when her manager, Samantha, told her she had a summer tour lined up. Y/N was a small independent artist and she couldn't headline a tour on her own, she was grateful for the opportunity to be an opener for one of the biggest artists in the industry, Eddie Munson.

She loved his music and she loved his style. Their writing dynamic was very similar and their music blended well. Even Eddie's manager couldn't pick a better person to open for him.

So Y/N was all packed up and ready for the summer of her life, on tour with someone that she admired. She couldn't possibly think of one bad thing to change her mind.

Well, that was until she met Eddie.

"Hi! I'm Y/N, I'm so ex-" Her introduction was cut off when Eddie's painted nails waved in her face.

"I know, baby. You are so excited to finally meet me, and you're my biggest fan. But I'm in a rush, so why don't you just give me your number and I'll call you tonight?" His smirk was so confident and smug. She couldn't believe he was this conceited.

She scoffed and crossed her arms. "Is that how you talk to women?"

Eddie blinked at her aggressive tone but shook it off. "Women? Nah, that's how I talk to my girl of the night. So interested or not? Like I said I'm in a rush for a meeting." He checked his watch, knowing he was meant to meet whoever his opener was going to be for his tour.

"Not. Nice to meet you, asshole." She gagged and walked off.

This summer started a whole lot worse than she thought.

"Eddie! Glad you made it!" Samantha said with a big smile, no idea Y/N already had a run-in with the man of the hour.

"I'd like you to meet Y/N, she'll be your opener for the tour!" Eddie's eyes switched over to the girl that sat at the table. He choked a little on his spit when he realized it was the girl from outside the building.

"Oh shit, you're my opener?" Eddie asked. He did not make a good first impression.

"I know, baby. You are so excited to finally meet me, but I'm in a rush so can we sign the contract and get a move on?" Y/N said, his words leaving her tongue in a sassy way that Eddie couldn't help but like and hate.

Eddie sent a glare her way but signed the papers.

After the meeting, Y/N was quick to leave. Eddie ran out after her, an apology on his tongue.

"Hey, look, I'm sorry for how I talked to you. Can I make it up to you? Maybe dinner?" Eddie asked, a hopeful smile on his face.

Y/N debated for a while but figured making amends might be better for the summer ahead.

"Dinner is good."

Y/N applied the final touch of her lipstick before she walked out of the small hotel room. Eddie's room across from her. She knocked on the door, waited, and waited.

She huffed when she checked the time and realized she'd been outside his door for five minutes. She gave up and went back into her room, figuring she'd just wait there until he came to her.

But he never did. After two hours, she heard his voice slurring in the hallway as he tried to open his door. She looked out the peephole and saw his arm wrapped around another girl.

She gave up on him immediately.

~~~

Half the summer was sour, they hated to be in the same room with each other. She knew she had a right to be pissed, but Eddie didn't. He hated her because she hated him. He never bothered to apologize or admit he was a selfish asshole. And that's all she wanted.

"Can you stop moving off your X? It's there for a reason!" Y/N snapped, she groaned as they had to stop rehearsal, yet again.

"I'm a rockstar! I'm meant to move around!" Eddie argued. He wasn't used to sharing the stage and he hated it.

"I'm one too! And in case you haven't noticed, I'm doing perfectly fine on my X!"

"You want a fucking gold star for being boring? Difference between an opener and the main show" Eddie snapped, Y/N didn't fight back. She just growled and began the song again.

"Y/N, THAT WAS SO GOOD!" Samantha cheered as Y/N walked off the stage. The first night of your was in the books and Y/N loved the way she felt on the stage. The crowd seemed to like her and she felt like she got them pumped for Eddie's set.

Even though she hated him, she looked his way for approval. After all, she was his opener and cared what he thought about his tour.

"Why the hell are you looking at me?" He asked, his guitar strapped to his body as he waited for his cue.

"I don't know. Just maybe thought you'd like to share your thoughts?" She said, a little shy that she had to admit she wanted to know.

Eddie was taken aback by the nervousness in her eyes, for once she looked vulnerable and not ready to shoot fire. But he couldn't give in, the hatred between them was too powerful and he refused to give in first when she chose to be a bitch towards him.

"I've seen better, you're nothing special." He shrugged and jumped on the stage as his cue was hit. The screams of the arena sounded muted as his words rang in her ears.

She marched off into her dressing room. She didn't bother to watch his set. Unlike him, she can admit when someone has talent and he doesn't deserve her compliments. Instead, she focused on the anger she felt and put it into a song. If he wanted special, she'd show him special.

Within a week, she finished the song and began performing it. It was full of anger and the crowd loved it. The music was loud and it shook the whole place.

Eddie knew the song was about him. She stood there, banging on her guitar as she swore about the big-headed men in her life. He was pissed, it was his tour and here she was bad-mouthing him to his fans. The fans didn't know it was about him, they just related it to a man in their life. But still, he didn't take the disrespect lightly.

And she didn't care. Ever since that first show on tour, she never asked for his thoughts again. She'd get off stage, place down her guitar, and walk straight to the dressing room.

It bothered Eddie that she never sat to watch his set, but he refused to let her know that he cared.

~~~

About a month and a half into the tour, they barely spoke. And if they did, it was to tear each other apart.

But when Y/N's new song was officially released and hit the radio, the crew wanted to go out to celebrate. And to her shock, Eddie showed up.

"I'd like to make a toast!" Y/N slurred, already a few shots in and the alcohol was taking over her body. The table raised a glass, and Eddie rolled his eyes. He might have been a little irritated by all the success she earned from a song that was about him.

"...and thanks to Eddie, the man who inspired the song. Thanks for being an asshole and treating me like shit. Cheers!"

Eddie bit his tongue as he took the shot in front of him, he didn't want to make a scene in a public place. He knew better than that. There would be cameras everywhere.

As the night went on, the more drunk she and Eddie became. The crew called it a night and left. Bad move to leave them alone.

"You know that I can't fucking stand you sometimes." Eddie hissed, trying to ignore the way her lips were wet and glossy from all the drinks she had.

"Yeah, I got the message." She laughed sarcastically. She hated how he got hot and had to throw his hair in a bun. With stupid curls hanging down to frame his perfect face.

"Why did you write the song? Just knew making money off me would be a career move?" He argued, the venom on his tongue was strong and she knew a fight was brewing.

"Oh fuck off. I'm going to the bathroom." She said as she rolled her eyes and walked off.

But Eddie was too mad to let it go. He followed her into the bathroom, locking the door behind them.

"Are you crazy!? This is a bathroom!"

"Answer my fucking question!"

"Yes, Eddie. It was a career move! You were a complete dick the second I met you and looked down on me all because I was an opener! I was grateful for the opportunity and now I realize, you are a selfish prick who only cares to get his dick wet." Her words were knives and perfectly sliced into Eddie's skin. Her eyes are dark as she gets in his face. Every word against his lips as he puffed and huffed.

The fire in his body with all the anger he felt. She stood tall and confident. Right in his face with no care in the world. Her lip snarled and her eyebrows scrunched.

"Jealous or something baby?" He smirked, he noticed the flicker of lust in her eyes before she remained unbothered.

"Of what?" She sneered

"The girl I took to my hotel room instead of you." His smirk was a target and she wanted to smack it off his face. He knew she was waiting and watching. And he had the nerve to never once apologize.

"Not. I like to end my nights with an orgasm." She said with a bitter smile, her hand reached behind him to grab the door but the growl that left his lips made her stop.

She looked up into his eyes and knew she struck a nerve. And she couldn't help but feel how wet her underwear became.

Before she could say another word, insult, or make a noise, his hot mouth was on hers. His hands dived into her hair as he took over her body. His tongue was in her mouth before she could blink. And she hated how easily she moaned.

Her body was against the sink as his hands scrammed to take off her jeans. He pulled away to unbuckle his belt and yank down his jeans, she took a second to catch her breath and remove her shirt. Her head against the mirror as his mouth attached to her chest, his teeth biting down on the flesh as she whined out.

She wasn't thinking, and she knew that. But his mouth felt so good and her cunt ached.

"Is that what this has always been about? Jealous I wasn't fucking your cute cunt?" Eddie teased, and he pulled away his mouth, which allowed her to understand his words.

"No, it's not. You were a dick the second I met you, and discredit me because I'm younger and newer to the industry. Don't flatter yourself." She scoffed. He was so big-headed and she couldn't believe he still didn't understand where he went wrong. "plus I wouldn't care about the girl if I wasn't waiting for you for dinner." She barked out. The hatred and anger filled her body again. Almost like it reminded her why she shouldn't be doing this. She pushed him back and reached for her shirt.

"Oh come on! Don't take it so personally. I forgot we had plans, okay?" He tried to defend but she was already throwing on her shirt.

"Forgot? Or decided that getting a quick fuck meant more?" Maybe in a way, she was hurt by the fact he completely shoved her off for someone else. She liked Eddie, and she always found him attractive and it sucked to meet him and see he was nothing like she thought.

"DO YOU WANT ME TO ADMIT THAT? Would that even make it better?" He laughed out, he couldn't believe it was even a big deal. "if I sat here and told you straight to your face that I wanted some wet pussy wrapped around me instead of sitting at a dinner with you, that make it BETTER? Huh?"

She shouldn't care, she really shouldn't. They weren't even friends and she had no reason to feel the burning jealousy in her stomach that someone got to spend the night with him when it was supposed to be her. She hated that no matter how much he made her hate him, she still felt something pulling her towards him.

She didn't have words, and she wasn't sure how to respond.

All she wanted was an apology

"Because that pussy was the best I've ever had and I don't regret it." He seethed out, and that struck a nerve in her. Apart from the jealousy and stupid high school games, he felt she wasn't worth apologizing to. She realized she'd never get that apology.

This time, she did go to smack the smirk off his face. Her right hand was high in the air as she aimed for his cheek, but his hand caught her. A deadly look in his eyes. They were breathing hard into each other's faces. She felt her cunt pulse, and he felt his cock pulse in his boxers, his jeans still on the floor.

She whimpered as he took control, again. He kept his grip on her arm, turning her around and pressing his cock against her ass. He held her arm behind her back, she was trapped between him and the sink.

No words were said, both relieving their aches as his free hand ripped off her underwear. The sound made her clench, then his fingers were inside of her. She moaned as he didn't care to be soft or gentle. Three fingers deep inside her cunt as his cock pressed against her ass. She moaned out and her head was thrown back into his shoulder.

His hand let her arm free, and she moved it to grip the sink, his fingers pumping inside of her. He was skilled, experienced, and knew exactly how to hit the right spots. Her head was fuzzy as she got lost in the feeling. With his free hand, he grabbed her chin and turned her head towards him. Her eyes closed in bliss as his lips touched hers.

His fingers moved faster inside of her as his lips tasted her. He felt the moan in the back of his throat as she clenched around him. His stomach flipped when her warm tongue worked inside of his mouth. He growled as her tongue dominated his.

The aching in his boxers became too much, he removed his fingers, smirking as she whined at the lost touch. But he was quick to fill her again, but this time with his pulsing cock. She moaned as she fucked into her. Nothing about it was romantic. It was heavy breaths, growls, moans, and the sound of their skin smacking. Her nails dug into the sink as he destroyed her. His mouth was on hers again as he moved his hips against her, loving the way she clenched around him. Her knees were weak when his fingers began to rub her clit.

She couldn't focus on anything except that burning feeling in her stomach and the build-up of her orgasm.

"Eddie." She squeaked, her hands moved up her body and reached behind her, feeling him underneath her fingertips.

"Shh, I know, baby. Let it go. I got you. Cum for me, gorgeous. Be right here." He said softly, she didn't think she'd ever heard him sound so sweet. She nodded as she gasped, letting herself go. She shook on his cock as she came. The relief she felt from every aching part of her body vanished.

She hissed as he slipped out of her, but she was fast to wrap her hand around him. Jerking him off as she looked in the mirror ahead. His forehead was against her shoulder as he breathed hard. His hands gripped her hips and he moved his hips to her rhythm.

"Watch yourself." She said, her tone demanding. He looked up, his blown-out lustful eyes took in their reflection. The sight of her hand wrapped around his red cock made his thighs shake.

He kept his eyes on her reflection as he painted the sink and her hand with his cum. He panted hard as she needed him off through it.

She washed off her hands and got dressed. Awkwardly handing Eddie his clothes.

He silently grabbed the jeans from her hands and put them on. He watched as she dressed herself.

"I'm, um, I'm sorry for the way I treated you and for ditching you," Eddie whispered, not to her but to the floor.

"Thanks, Eddie." She said, and she meant it. She knew that's all she would get. She gave him a small smile and walked out.

Where the hell do they stand now?

~~~

After that event, things between them got blurry. They found themselves feeling something different. Almost like they got out every bit of anger inside of them. Like the anger was just the first layer. And now other feelings were being revealed.

Y/N couldn't help but notice she was putting more work into her appearance. More makeup touches and asking for more sexier clothes for when she performs. She almost felt like she wanted Eddie's eyes on her all the time. Because she couldn't help but have her eyes on him.

Eddie couldn't help but stare whenever she was near. It was like his eyes automatically found her in the room and he couldn't get enough. He noticed things about her that he didn't see at first. He always found her attractive, but now it was deeper than that. He found a new favorite thing about her every day. He started watching more of her performances and found the compliments slipping off his tongue.

The air changed between them. Now they were nervous and didn't know what to say. They didn't talk about what happened but both wished that the other still thought about it.

They tried to ignore how nervous they were and how awkward it made things. Y/N felt like they both needed to talk about what happened to either go back to normal or discuss what was next for them because this situation was too weird.

It was nearly midnight when they made it back to the hotel after their show, Eddie went to head into his room when Y/N spoke up.

"Do you think we could talk?" She asked, the shakiness in her voice made it clear she was nervous.

"Uh sure," Eddie said, his nerves kicked in as he unlocked the door.

She followed behind and took a seat on the bed. He removed his shoes and then took the spot next to her. His shoulder against hers as he waited for her to speak.

"About the thing that happened," she started, already hating the conversation. Eddie coughed awkwardly as he stared at his hands. "I'm just going to be fully honest and I can leave right after. But, it hasn't left my head. I know it was full of hatred and anger. And it probably didn't mean anything and I didn't think it would. But it almost feels like I let out all that anger and now I'm left with other feelings." She admitted, slowly looking towards him to read his expression.

"What kind of other feelings?" He asked, he turned his head to look at her. He hoped she meant the same feelings he'd been feeling. The feeling of wanting each other again. And maybe wanting each other always.

"Feelings like that I like you and my stomach hurts when I think about all the girls in the crowd that want to go home with you." She admitted, looking down at her own hands as she blushed.

She was surprised when Eddie reached for her hand and laced their fingers together. He reached over and used his pointer finger to tilt up her chin. Her eyes looked into his as she anxiously waited for him to speak.

"I tend to be a dick so girls want anything to do with me after sex. But, I'm fucking grateful to hear you still like my dumbass." He joked, a smile on his face as she laughed. "Even though we had sex out of anger, there was something so real there and it hasn't left my mind. The way you pulled so much emotion out of me. I've never had someone do that. I like you too, and I'd like a chance to take you on a date and treat you the way you always should have been treated."

She felt her heart skip at his words, and a feeling of excitement bubbled in her stomach.

"I'd like that." She said as she tried to bite back her smile.

"Perfect, let's go right now." He said he stood up with their hands still laced.

"What? Right now! It's midnight!" She argued, her eyes looking to the clock.

"Don't care. I'm not wasting a second to take you out. The world is asleep, let's go have our fun before it wakes up ." He said with a wink, smiling as she stood up and together they ran out of his room like idiots.

Maybe the summer was finally looking up.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger

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haikyu-mp4 · 7 days

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Saving up

word count; 2761 – f!reader, this is not my best writing but I got the idea and just had to write it

Ever since your first year in high school, you thought Kunimi Akira was shy. He didn’t interact with many people and you could barely imagine what his voice sounded like if you tried to. Then you became desk mates for your second year and you weren’t so sure anymore, because now you heard his voice all the time.

The volleyball player would rest his elbow on his desk and lean a cheek on his hand so he could look over at you, who diligently tried taking notes. Your class had a study hour halfway through the day to ensure your notes were up to date before going to lunch, but Kunimi often used it to sleep. Often, but less frequently this year.

When he didn’t sleep, he was watching you. Now and then, he would reach over with a pencil in his hand to draw something stupid that messed up your perfect notes. Sometimes it was just a line across the page and other times it was simple drawings.

You would glare sideways at him, holding your pen up like it was a weapon and it never failed to make him smile. “Sorry, I thought those were my notes.” he would say, so shamelessly teasing you and sticking his tongue out.

People in your class had noticed how the two of you started spending time together even when you didn’t have to, like how you would come over at lunch to give him the juice box he ‘accidentally’ left behind on his desk. Or how he would come slightly late to practice because you asked him to help with a subject he was better at.

A couple of friends started teasing you about it, mentioning how the two of you kept acting all cute and how disgusting it was. You laughed with them, but you weren’t sure if you should. Was this anything more than Kunimi distracting himself from boredom? You couldn’t call what you had very romantic yet, which it didn’t have to be, but you had hope brewing in your stomach that this might turn into something. You’re quite the hopeless romantic.

“Speaking of dating, what’s you guys’ dream date?” one of your friends asked before scooping a spoon of yoghurt into her mouth. “Because I would love a romantic picnic in my near future.”

Your friends all pitched in as the conversation focused on one person at a time until it ended up on you. Unbeknownst to you, Kunimi strained every muscle to hear your answer from where he sat just a few tables away. “I think an art museum would be cute. You can take nice pictures and either make fun of the paintings or appreciate them. Then maybe go for hot chocolate after.” you explained, fiddling with your fingers as your eyes lit up from imagining it. That was your style. Kunimi nodded to himself and mentally pressed save on the information.

When the volleyball tournament started, your friends asked to go see the school’s team in action, and you perked up when you remembered Kunimi was on the team. You nodded eagerly and all of you made plans to go after school. It was lonely during the school day as you kept glancing at the empty desk beside you. Somewhere out there Kunimi was playing volleyball while you were stuck here without him.

All of you rushed out of the classroom as soon as classes ended, switching into outdoor shoes before making your way to the bus stop. You could definitely be accused of looking a bit too excited.

It wasn’t the most crowded game, so you found some good seats and the team was already playing. Your cheers blended into the classic school cheer, filling you with school spirit. There was no use denying that your eyes were stuck on Kunimi, but you noticed how he wasn’t giving it his all. This made you frown, curious as to why when you knew how much he liked the sport.

It was the third set and all the other players were getting visibly tired as their legs fought against them and their sweat seemed to be flying.

But not Kunimi. You watched as Yahaba, the setter, started setting up even more attacks for Kunimi. Subconsciously, you started leaning forward in your seat and got even more engaged, excitedly yelling his name whenever he scored a point. When his teammates patted him on the back, you finally saw that smile. The smile he would give you when he seemed proud of your reaction to his teasing. An excited smile.

“That’s typical Kunimi,” one of your friends said. She had been following the volleyball team closely because of her interest in the sport. Despite getting rejected from the manager position, she still came to watch, which you admired greatly. The hope of Aoba Johsai going to nationals didn’t end with Oikawa.

“How so?” you asked, hoping she could hear you over the crowd.

“He always saves his energy, acting all lazy for the first sets and then using that energy when everyone else gets tired.”

“Oh, how interesting.”

When the games finished for the day, Aoba Johsai had still not lost. You and your friends were walking out of the building and you listened with a grin as they kept excitedly discussing the highlights of the last game until you heard someone calling your name.

You turned around, eyes scanning the area until they settled on Kunimi. Your face lit up and your guy friend made kissy noises before one of the girls hit him over the head. Agreeing with on where to meet them later, you met Kunimi halfway. “Hi,” he breathed out.

“Hey. You were great!” was all you mustered to say, feeling a bit shy even though he didn’t know how hard you had been staring at him earlier.

“I didn’t know you were coming,” he said, squinting at you accusingly.

“We decided on it earlier today,” you told him, looking to the side for a second as you hesitated. “I got lonely without my deskmate.”

Kunimi cursed his ears which suddenly felt a bit too warm. Is there a chance you came to see him? He knew he had to go back to the team any second now, so he cleared his throat to break the spell you put him in. “I’ll be back to bother you soon,” he assured you, making you chuckle.

“Hopefully not too soon, you guys need to go to nationals!” you said encouragingly, leaning on the pads of your feet.

He nodded, glancing over his shoulder and back at you. “Fine, but I miss you too.” You hadn’t even said you missed him, but the sentiment was there. Hearing him say it so directly made your heartbeat quicken and you weren’t sure what to say.

A silence fell over you as you leaned a bit closer. Kunimi slowly put his arms around your back and yours went around his neck as you pulled each other in for a soft hug. It recharged your battery and you could swear you heard him take in a deep breath before you pulled away. A bit awkwardly, you stepped back from each other.

“Good luck tomorrow, Kunimi.”

“Thanks. I’ll see you soon.”

Kunimi had the faintest thought that he might have jinxed it as they were on the bus back to the school. They lost in the second game of the day, not even making it to the finals. He should be frustrated. He should be so angry that they were defeated, but he wasn’t. Because the next school day, he could meet up for class and see you.

You didn’t mention their loss, which he appreciated since he wasn’t sure how to explain that it didn’t bother him that much. It did irk him how your smile still seemed a bit more pitiful than sweet, so Kunimi tried to do everything like you always did. Draw in your book, bump your arm and steal sips from your iced tea. Thankfully, it seemed to work, as you gradually got back to your normal teasing and Kunimi could hear your laugh again.

At some point, the doodles he left in your book moved from where they ruined your notes to where there was still space left as if he wanted you to leave them there. You paused for a second instead of pretending to attack him. Then Kunimi would watch with interest as you started adding to his drawings, making them more detailed or into something completely different. It was fun, knowing he could steal your attention away like that. Maybe this is working out.

“Would you teach me to play volleyball?” you asked him one day, quite suddenly, which made him choke on the iced tea because he tried to speak at the same time. “Karma,” you mumble, smirking and taking your bottle back.

“You want to learn volleyball?”

”That’s what I said.” He stared at you for a moment before shrugging.

That’s how you ended up outside of the gym before his practice. He told you someone was using the gym for extra practice, so you just asked to borrow a ball and went outside instead. The weather was quite nice, and you were not that used to seeing Kunimi with the sun on his face. It suited him.

He showed you how to receive, telling you to squat a bit with the ball instead of flailing your arms too much. It kind of worked out. The ball eventually started moving back towards him after a lot of laughter and attempts. Yahaba walked past at some point and did a dramatic double-take when he saw who was spending extra time practising. And with a girl, nonetheless. He totally took a picture for the group chat that Kunimi would shamelessly save later.

After doing this for a while, he asked you to try and bump it a bit higher. You tried with a focused look on your face and it went off a bit to the side, so he moved to catch it. “If you get it up above my head,” he gestured where his arm to show you. “I can set it up for you. Then you hit it with your palm like bam to spike it back,” he instructed, demonstrating with the ball.

You nodded, still unsure if you would be able to, but you were a bit excited to try. Using some beginner’s luck, you managed to bump it up high enough for him to set. Your eyes were glued to the ball as it came back towards you. You lifted your arm and hit your palm against it, watching it fly sharply back at Kunimi.

“Grea-” Right into his forehead. You covered your mouth with a gasp, running over to where he was now holding his head.

“I’m so sorry, Kunimi!” you yelled, holding his shoulders to make him look at you as you begged for forgiveness. “I didn’t even think I would hit it.”

“I didn’t think you would either,” Kunimi teased with a slight strain in his voice from the pain, naturally resting his free hand on your hip. When he finally removed the hand from his face, you winced at the red mark on his forehead. He was moving his face weirdly as if checking all the parts were still there, and it was so cute that you weren’t sure if you were breathing at that moment. “At least you didn’t get my nose,” he said, laughing a bit which made you smile, relieved.

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he assured you, suddenly very aware of how close you stood and how you were holding each other. He stuttered and you noticed at the same time, making the both of you take a step away from each other. Your cheeks were burning from the embarrassment of hitting him with the ball like that and then this. “I have practice now, though. See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll see you.”

Once again, your friends were teasing you relentlessly. “You hit him in the face?” Their cackles rang through the air and you hid your face in your hands.

“I forced him to teach me just so I could spend time with him and then I bruised his perfect forehead, what’s wrong with me?” you complained, definitely feeling a tad dramatic.

“Shut up. He was probably thrilled that you took the initiative, that lazy bastard.” someone said, and you lifted your head to glare at him for the comment. Taking in a deep breath, you cross your arms on the table and lean on them.

“I want to kiss his pretty lips so bad but I’m not even sure he likes me like that,” you mumbled.

“Now that is just pathetic,” another friend answered. Brutal. “He obviously likes you, now stop talking to us about your dreams and start chasing them.”

You looked across the cafeteria, finding the guy with the middle part who looked bored as he listened to a friend talking. “I just want that little bit of extra effort, you know?”

“Why haven’t you asked her out? I’m pretty sure she would say yes,” Kindaichi wondered as the two were getting ready for another practice.

“It’s not the right time yet,” Kunimi answered, not sparing his friend a glance.

“Don’t tell me you’re saving your energy until the last round for dating, too,” Kindaichi said, some disbelief painted between the words because he hoped that wasn’t the truth. He thought you deserved better than that, but then again, who was he to judge?

Kunimi frowned, mumbling something under his breath and putting his jersey on. “Not really, I was saving up money.”

Kindaichi looked confused. “How’s that relevant?”

“She told her friends she wanted to go to an art museum,” he said under his breath because he didn’t want anyone to overhear. “If I went all out and asked her out right away, we couldn’t go where she wanted.”

Now Kindaichi was glad he wasn’t currently dating anyone, because how could he compare to this? He didn’t think Kunimi would ever beat him in effort. “So, you’re still saving up for the first date?” he asked, checking if he heard him correctly.

Kunimi finally smiled a bit, lifting two pieces of paper, tickets, to show them off. “Just got them, now I just need to ask.”

“I was wondering if you would like to go with me to the art museum tomorrow,” he asked, holding out two tickets for you to see. It was for the best museum you could go to from where you were, which you had been eyeing and wondering if you should go to even if you had to go alone. You looked at the tickets in his hand and then back up at him with the most entrancing sparkly eyes he had ever seen. That’s what gave him the guts to add “As a date.”

“That sounds perfect, Kunimi.” You slung your arms around his waist in a hug and he hugged you back, making his soft chuckles ring in your ear while his breath hit your neck. It gave you goosebumps and you stayed in the hug for a second longer than necessary just to enjoy it.

Indeed, it was perfect. The two of you took lots of pictures, getting all the best angles for Instagram and laughing at the bad ones. Kunimi wasn’t the most educated on art, but he liked hearing you talk about it. You were watching a particularly grand painting, giving him your thoughts on the artist’s mindset while painting it. When you looked over to see if he was following, he was already looking at you like you were the one who painted it. He laced his fingers with yours, holding your hand through the whole thing and sometimes making funny comments when the artworks were especially difficult to defend. When you were done, you could truly say it was everything you imagined and more. Kunimi could confidently admit he never spent his money on anything better.

And after you treated the two of you to hot cocoa, he followed you home. At your door, he reached around your back like he had done before, but instead of tucking his head in your neck, he put his lips on yours. What a sweet kiss it was, satisfying every dream you had about it.

Kunimi was never shy or too lazy. He just saved up to get you what you deserved.

masterlist

#haikyu #haikyuu #haikyu x reader #hq x reader #fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x you #hq #haikyu fluff #kunimi akira #kunimi x reader #aoba johsai #seijoh

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lolita-lollipop · 4 months

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Crickets

SOFT YANDERE PLATONIC ERASERMIC FAMILY X READER

(mostly Shinso)

WARNINGS: suicidal threats from the reader, not detailed but mentioned depression and dissociation, the reader is not okay, unwanted comfort. yandere(and all the things that come with it)

it's cold outside today.

As you dragged yourself through the front yard, scratches already lining your knees,you wished that you grabbed a jacket, or decided to do this during the summer season. The sedative they had given you hours ago was in full effect, putting weight on your shoulders and making your vision blur, putting you off balance again and again as you sprinted through the front door out into the garden. Everything just hurt, your head, your heart, your hands. You were just so finished with this bullshit, so done with fooling yourself into thinking you’d be okay.

Harsh sobs left your lips as you fumbled with the door trying to get any further, ever since they’d taken you it was made very clear that if you tried to escape, they would confine you to their side 24/7, but as times flew by and your desperation slowly pooled in the bottom of your soul, you stopped caring. You hated that these people treated you like a child, you hated how they belittled you, you hated the way you never had a say in anything, and especially you hated how you could never do anything about it.

Today was your breaking point.

They were doing what they usually did, pushing and pulling and shoving you around as if you were nothing but a baby, you already had very little sleep last night after your crying fit, so you weren’t very keen on being nice to them this morning.It was simple really, all you had asked for was some Tylenol for your headache, crying takes it out of you, they know that best. but they said no.

So out the door you ran, screaming and crying the whole way there. You knew that eri and shinso were here too, you knew that escape was practically impossible, and that your attempts would be worth nothing. But you needed this. You really did.

You regret it now. Now that you’re lying down on the grass in the front yard, your hands and knees covered in scrapes. Your head fuzzy and throbbing. It was quite the surprise that they hadn’t come out to get you yet, your sobs never halted though. It was a sad sight, just a puddle of a young girl crying herself into a migraine. It into got worse when you heard footsteps, and saw that familiar purple hair you could recognize as shinsos.

He said nothing, but he had a scary look on his face. He just grabbed your arm and tugged you up into his arms harshly. This of course did nothing for your intense panic.

“Please. Please don’t make me go back- please I can’t go back in there- shinso I love you- please I love you” you stammered out through sobs, punching at his test with all the force you could muster, as a hero in training it did nothing physically to him, but you could see the resolve behind his eyes falter.

“Should’ve thought about that before you ran. I made them calm down. You’re lucky it’s me instead of Aizawa out here” he spoke as he always did, coldly and lacking emotion. Only holding you tighter and beginning to walk back to the house. You dug your bare feet into the dirt, pulling back at him. it was pathetic, you knew. the lengths you were willing to go in the name of escape.

“Please. I can’t do this anymore- shinso I’m so tired. They make me so tired I can’t even think straight anymore. I just can’t take it anymore” you were begging in desperation at this point, squirming and scratching at him, anything to get him off, to let you go.

“They’re giving you the life you wanted. A life you would’ve killed to have” The chirp of the crickets in the garden overtook the conversation, and a long silence overtook the two of you. you could hear and see everything, the water flushing through the fountain,the buzz of the bees, the chirp of the crickets, it was too much, everything was hazy and blended together and you were left overwhelmed and terrified.

It's cold outside today , maybe that's the reason you keep shivering, maybe it's fear-actually, terror is a better word for it.

“I wanted that life willingly! I didn’t want this. I didn’t want to be taken from my home in the middle of the night. Even if I hate my parents, I can’t stand that I have no power! Please, you have to understand, I’m rotting away here, I have no purpose at all- please shinso-“he paused in his trek towards the door, taking a deep, calculated breath.

“Tell that to them.”

“shinso please- please I love you. I can’t go back there, please don’t make me, I can’t, if I go back they’ll hurt me, they’ll be upset shin, I don’t wanna get hurt again” you begged as he began to walk again, your heels were begging to bleed out of the cuts the harsh ground was making. Tears flowed freely down your face now, and you flailed and kicked and cried, he was stronger than you, the both of you knew that. You could see a little sympathy in the back of his eyes though, maybe he wasn’t dead internally. not yet.

“You know that isn’t true, they would never. Now hush. You’ll be fine, I love you too.” Planting a kiss on your forehead, he hoisted you up, brushing your hair out of your face and beginning to rub circles that usually would be soothing on your neck. A long pause rung out, a deafening silence overtook the two of you as you fully came to the realization that he wasn’t going to help you, and your attention was drawing to the crunch of hit boots on the rocky mud.

“I’ll kill myself.” He paused, and his head shot down towards you faster than you could even see. Your resolve had completely shattered by now, any words you said were mumbly and overridden by your tears and your heavy breathing. You were broken completely, utterly done with the world for putting you in this situation, you had been shattered into a million pieces, and shinso could see it. He could see how desperate you were. Something flashed in his eyes.

“Sweetheart…”

“I will, I would rather die. I can’t go back in there, if you make me I’ll jump off a roof, or I’ll fall down the stairs, or I’ll hang myself. I just- I won’t go back- not alive” you rushed out in between sobs, you had stopped fighting, instead opting for intense teary-eyed eye contact to make your point heard. Your hands now gripped the collar of his shirt, quivering. your heart was trembling, and so was your body, it would only be minutes till you would feint. This is it.

“Don’t say that- you don’t have to hurt yourself for freedom, just ask them and they’ll give you whatever you want, anything. They love you-“ he begun, stroking your hair as he held you. Your hands continued to shake as his eyes met your gaze. You wouldn’t go back, you couldn’t, shinso saw what it was doing to you. He saw the way you shrank from loud noises now and winced when getting up from the couch, how your eyes would sometimes go glassy as if you were in a different place entirely. He wouldn’t do this to you, he loves you too much right?

Right?

“I DONT WANT THE FREEDOM THEYLL GIVE ME, I WANT TO LEAVE. I WANT TO LIVE MY OWN LIFE. I’ll do it, you think I won’t but I will. Please- even if you don’t take me away from here- just let me run, say- say you couldn’t catch me. Just give me enough time to get in a taxi, you don’t even have to help me. Please shinso, I’m begging you” your silent years now turned into gut wrenching, stomach aching sobs. He was going to let you rot in that house, with your stupid dolls and toys and cats that you were far too old for. There… there’s no hope for you… I’d he doesn’t help- if he doesn’t help than you’re stuck for all eternity till you are nothing but a skeleton.

“You know I can’t do that” at his words your hands begun to dig in his neck, your cries hurt your stomach, that endless pit of despair slowly settling at the bottom. this is it. this is the end of your life.

“I would rather go live in hell than have to live here ever again. I- I just can’t do this anymore, they hurt me just so they can feel good helping me, everything I do makes me so tired, so weak. I can’t pick things up on my own, sometimes my knees are so weak I can’t even walk. I need them. Fuck I need them Shinso. Do you know how humiliating that is, how infuriating that is? They've ruined me, I’m not a whole person anymore. Please… please just- just let me have this” You could barely breathe at this point, your lungs filling up with that depressing feeling. As you spoke your sobs got worse and worse, till you were almost incomprehensible. You can’t do this anymore. You just can’t. Too locked up in your internal monologue you missed out on the shift in shinsos eyes, how his sympathy increased with every word you spoke.

“Oh baby… I-“ tears pricked at the edges of his eyes, and a deepset frown splayed across his face. He loves you, god he loves you so much. But… maybe you would be better off away, you aren’t happy here, you cry day and night till your stomach aches, you don’t eat, or sleep. You’re a shell. A shell of the girl he loves, is it so bad to want you back?? He can’t keep you like this, unhappy, in pain.

Much to your surprise, he slowly placed you on the ground, staring right into your souls with those eyes of his, letting a “shhh” come from his mouth, he pointed towards the road. Your eyes widened as you looked up at your big brother, immediately you threw yourself on him and squeezed as tight as you could in a hug, still crying all the way through. You didn’t know you could love somebody this much.

“I love you” he spoke, and immediately you pushed off your bare feet in a dash for the road, willing to run all the way back to town if need be. You didn’t even notice the blood seeping out from your feet due to the excess adrenaline running through your system, you were simply ecstatic. You made it a couple yards, not even sparing your brother a glance, you were free! YOU WERE FREE! You ran as fast as you could….

Only to be yanked back harshly. You let out a sob as arms engulfed you, swallowing you up whole, along with your dignity and will to live.

“That’s enough shinso. Oh don’t cry sweet girl, we’ll make you better don’t worry. If I had known you felt so- so awful I would’ve helped sooner” you recognized one of your captors, mic, by not only his voice, but also his smell, and how hard his arms were gripping you. You could feel the muscles he had squeezing you, holding you ever so close to him, and warming you up. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Immediate panic set into your bones, he’s gonna be so mad at you for running , and he’s gonna be livid that you threatened yourself. You can feel the punishments coming. you shivered in his arms, panic and terror washing over you, clouding any sense of judgment you had managed to keep.

"Please- Please don't make me go back- ill die pleas-" you sobbed, scratching at him with your short nails, digging your feet further in the dirt, you found yourself wincing as mud made its way into the cuts in your feet. It only made you cry more and more. you were halted in your begging though, all the air in your lungs being knocked straight out of your chest.

Mic hoisted you up much like Shinso had previously done, however his grip was iron l, impossible to budge and honestly, painful. He squeezed you and cooed into your ear in attempts to calm your nerves. Nothing was working however, you were too fragile, too easy to break. and you were broken all right, with the way you were sobbing into his chest, that was for sure. You just need time, comfort, safety, security. they would give you all of that and more, but you had to stay with them, you just had to.

It's cold outside, but god you would rather be frozen alive than brought back into that house. this is it for you. you're over. It's done.

“Don’t worry baby, we’ll make it all better soon.

I promise” ---------------------------------------------------- its been a while huh. I FIGURED OUT HOW TO DO A "Keep reading" CUT! YAY! I havent written something platonic in months but I feel like it was warranted so enjoy, this is pretty self indulgent so I hope it works for yall too. have fun. I hope everybody reading this has a lovely day, and remembers that they are loved somewhere by someone. Have a great day! see you next time!

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dreemurr-skelememer · 9 months

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May I ask on how you choose your colors when you color your art pieces? It is so pretty to look at the colors of your art, and I want to color like that, but color picking is very hard q-q

here's!! uh, the general areas in the color wheel where i try to pick depending on the vibe

highly inaccurate because tbh i just color pick directly or try to guess the colors from my references and just adjust them to be a little bit more pastel or to the atmosphere and if i have their colors memorized (such as ink or dream), i just pick by memory or by my modified colors LOL

color your scrunkly!

set your line work to multiply and lock opacity

i use warm tones for white ish colors so uhhh idk whatever warm color from here

color the line work!!!!! ofc, shift the hue depending on the undertones of the surrounding colors the skull color is a warm off-white, the undershirt is a blue-ish off-white, scarf is warm brown, so on and so on the multiply function rly helps just blend things into the palette a little more, but if ur confident enough, you dont have to set it to multiply at all for extra variation

minimal shading by just taking the surrounding colors n adjusting the hue slightly n its value n saturation gives it a very messy cel shaded look! been into it lately and stuff

and then i add a few overlays using the pin light layer mode! i usually use these two colors together, it gives the right amount of pastel colors that really appeals to me

if you have access to gradient maps, i recommend using them lots! it makes the pieces look a little more cohesive the pin light layer mode imitates it n is very versatile if u cant use them though (like me when im just doodling on sai)

that's it!!! that's the basic rundown of how i color i'm not very well versed in color theory so i can only do very basic color picking tips, but maybe next time i can offer ways on how to color more atmospherically!

have a nice time coloring your blorbos ✨

#Anonymous #tutorial #ref #ink sans #kia doodles shit #i hope this heeeeeeelps somewhat!!!!!#art tutorial #coloring tutorial #art help #art tips #art advice

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moldspace · 3 months

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if u don't mind me asking for your clay creatures do u normally use glaze or paint? I'm just starting out with ceramics and I'm wondering if u had any recommendations for either? I always love how ur sculptures turn out :)

the ones that look "painted" are underglaze! I paint it onto dry greenware and then add a clear glaze over top after bisque firing. it's really as close as you can get to a "paint" for ceramic, it can be mixed and blended like paint and has no silica content so it doesn't turn glossy or stick to things in the kiln without another glaze overtop - it also doesn't move at all during firing like most glazes and stays exactly where you put it! my fav underglaze brand is coyote because their underglazes feel very thick and color dense (at least out of the brands I've used), so it requires less coats to get an opaque look (the tricky thing with underglaze is that it looks opaque when you paint it but fires semi-transparent, so it needs layering that you don't see the results of until the glaze firing). the clear glaze I use over my underglazes is amaco's mixing clear (technically part of their celadon line I think). if you do a clear glaze overtop of the underglaze it acts a lot like varnish over a painting, brightening it up and adding shine, but you can also leave the underglaze as-is, it will just be porous, matte, and a little chalky like any unglazed ceramic is. picking a clear glaze to go over underglazes can be tricky, because some of them will react to the colorants in the underglaze and you may get colors that disappear or become streaky under them, or your clear glaze can be too thick and look "milky", but I've had very good luck with the one I'm currently using.

if you want to get into glazing, i really like amaco's premade glazes, not only because they offer a nice selection, but because they have a lot of online resources for beginner ceramists to use - they have videos showing how they glaze pieces to get the correct amount of glaze on, a glaze layering tool that shows how different combinations of glazes (might) look together, and even a facebook group for people to post pictures and ask for advice in. ive been enjoying playing with glaze combinations and also playing with what parts of the sculpture I leave bare to just be the fired claybody.

#ask #also you can use like acrylic paints and stuff on ceramic. just not on anything you want to be food safe I'd imagine.#but ive never tried that so i have no advice on it!#finally there is: making your own glazes. which i am also not qualified to talk on

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mermaidgirl30 · 3 months

Text

My Heart I Surrender

This was a writing challenge by @iamasaddie and it was soooo much fun to partake in! I got a really angsty moodboard, so I apologize for the tears you might spill 😭 I LOVED doing this and hope to do more very soon! I just jotted all this out this afternoon, so I hope you enjoy 🥰 This is also in Joel’s POV!

Pairing: Joel x fem! reader

Word count: 2.5k

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only MDNI)

Tags: Angst, feelings, angsty Joel, smut, confessing feelings, more angst

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The rustic, spinning clock ticks over the soft patters of rain against the fogged up living room window. It’s like a competition, the vibrating sounds colliding together in a deafening noise that reverberates around your mind. Tick, tick, patter, patter. It’s too much, too loud for you to handle.

You hold your head in between your hands and cover your ears, trying to drown out the suffocating noise in your mind. You close your eyes tightly and try to forget. Forget the sounds of her walking out of the room, forget the way she slammed the door and ran out. But you can’t forget. It’s too fresh, too paralyzing.

Tick, tick. You gnash your teeth together and crush your head between your knees, desperate to escape the haunted ticks that keep coming. Louder, louder. It’s enough to drive a mad man crazy.

Tick, tick. That’s it. The final straw to make you lose control again. You push yourself out of the leather recliner and throw the empty whiskey glass at the clock. It immediately crashes to the floor, glass and broken pieces go everywhere against the dark wooden floors. The ticking abruptly stops and so does your pounding headache.

You run a rough hand through your messy curls, slicking it back into place. You sigh haggardly and slowly turn in the direction of the worn out couch, freezing at the mere sight of it. Your jaw clenches up as soon as you see it. Right in the center of the rose colored couch is the imprint of her. You run your calloused fingers slowly over the velvety material, feeling exactly where she laid. It’s almost like she’s still here. Almost. It’s still damp, still dripping with her arousal. You can smell her. The aroma of vanilla and cinnamon lingering in the air, just like the memory of her.

You pull your hand back and bite your tongue as you feel blood run straight down your throat. It’s the taste of loss, the taste of resentment. You did this to yourself. You. You throw yourself over the cushiony material, splaying your hands all over the damp material. Come back, come back. But she’s gone. She’s gone.

You remember her sitting in this spot not even an hour ago, with your head in between her creamy thighs. The way her breathy moans sounded as you tasted her. Your wet tongue sliding up her folds as you circled her clit nice and slow, sucking her into your mouth as she moaned your name and tangled her fingers through your mess of wild hair. She tasted so good. Just like a fresh sip of lemonade on a warm summer day that quenched your thirst. And God, the taste of her slick as she came in your mouth again and again. That warm salty and sweet taste mixing together that formed like hot cider on your taste buds. It was addicting. You couldn’t get enough, could never get enough.

You dig your fingers into the soaked material, trying to claw your way back to her. Come back, come back. You rest the edge of your face right where she sat, feeling your rugged scruff blend in with the smell of her. Too much, this is too much.

You remember how it felt being inside her as you thrusted yourself into her again and again, can still hear her ragged moans against your ear as she wrapped her legs around you and dug her nails into your back, slowly scraping red lines against your skin. She clung to you, ripping into your plaid shirt as she squeezed you tight, not ready to let go. And you fucked her like it was the last night you’d ever have with her. You made it passionate, slow, rough, exotic. And you made her cum three different times, but it wasn’t enough. It still wasn’t enough.

But it was the last night. Just like she told you when you saw her at Tipsy Bison earlier. One more time, she said. This is the last time. It was a love letter that ended with you. No more, this was the last straw. She was saying goodbye. It was a goodbye. But goddamn it, you didn’t want it to be. You never wanted it to be. This can’t be over. It won’t be over. Not if you can help it.

You pick yourself off the floor, crawl your way to the door as you grab a single cigarette that sits in the pocket of your denim jeans. You stopped smoking, she killed your bad habit as she always grabbed them out of your hand and threw them in the trash. You don’t need them. They’re bad for you, she’d say. She was always good about that, killing your bad habits. But she wasn’t here to tell you no. And God, you needed something to numb the pain. Anything.

As you stand up and walk to the white wooden door, you caress your fingers on the brass knob and close your eyes, remembering exactly how she left. You could still feel her hot skin, feel the echoes of loss and torture swirl around the room as you remember the way she left. Her eyes were filled with tears. Those sparkling, gorgeous eyes that took your breath away every time you set your sights on her. But this time she was broken, a torn fragment of your imagination now. She was so sad, so distraught in the worst way. And the way she looked at you before she walked out… God, it nearly kills you to think about.

Please, don’t go, you called after her. Desperate to keep her here with you, to stay one more night. If it meant you got to hold her one more time. One final time.

I can’t stay. Please, don’t make this harder than it has to be.

I….. You almost told her you loved her, almost broke down when you saw her opening the door. But almost wasn’t enough, it was never enough.

I have to go, she said. And then she walked out that door, leaving you hollow and broken inside, just like your now empty, vacant house.

You ran after her, calling her name, yelling her name. Please, please. Don’t go, you pleaded. Your voice a scratchy, hurling mess.

She turned so slowly, bloodshot with red eyes and tears spilling down her crimson cheeks. She shook her head no, digging her hands inside her violet jacket. She was right on the verge of collapsing, so close to barreling over in agony. And she said the words, those frozen, utterly dreadful words. I can’t… And then she fled, running back to her house, away from you. For good.

You stood there watching her, fisting your unruly curls with your fists and trying not to break down. But you had already broken down the moment she walked through your door, the moment she walked out into the rain and left you standing there, broken and beaten. A bottled up case of whiskey blues.

You punch the door, your knuckles hitting like jagged scars across the wood. Your knuckles turn red and start bleeding, just like your black heart. You step out on the vacant porch, the wood squeaking beneath you as the pounding rain hits against the edge of the wooden porch. You light up the cigarette, sticking it in your mouth and inhaling a puff of nicotine, desperate for some kind of relief. Any relief. It shoots through your lungs, numbing the pain just a tad as it takes the edge off. You blow out the smoke as it curls around the drizzle, mixing in with the whispers of the howling wind. She’s gone.

You inhale the smoke like it’s oxygen to your lungs, fighting every feeling in you to numb that empty space in your heart. The space where she’s missing. Your petal made from roses. Your sweet, intoxicating rosebud. But she’s not yours anymore. She’s not yours.

You finish the cigarette and stomp it out with your leather, worn boot, pushing it to the side so you don’t have to be reminded of the bad habits you said you’d stop. You did stop, but she’s gone so why does it matter anymore?

As you look out at the foggy, rainy night, you can almost see her. See the ghost of what once was an hour ago. Can see the way her long hair clung to her shoulders as the rain dripped off onto her back. Can see the look on her eyes before she ran off. She was torn, eaten up with hurt as she walked away. Her figure was only a mere memory now.

God, you couldn’t bear it. Couldn’t stand the mere thought of losing her. Not after you held her in your arms night after night. Not after you entwined yourself in her and lost yourself in her body over and over again. Not after her lips had marked yours, singeing her scent all over you as the cinnamon flavor swirled through your mouth. She was what brought you peace. Her. But you fucked it up. Fucked it up with every pointless fight you started because you were so fucking angry with the world, and you didn’t know how to control yourself. But she helped to calm you, helped to part the seas of your chaotic crashing hurricane. She was like a gentle spring day, a bed full of soft roses where you could lay your head when it got too much. But now it was just cloudy thunderstorm days without her. It was pure torture, no more spring days to mask your pain.

A wave of nausea pulls at your insides as you stumble forward, anxiety coursing through you like a hard metal bullet. You feel like you can’t breathe, your chest so tight that it hollows in on itself and leaves you bleeding inside. It’s like a sharp knife slicing you in two, tearing open your insides as you bleed to death. You hold your chest as you step into the rain, trying to calm your racing thoughts as you claw at the wooden railing on the edge of the porch.

The rain comes down hard on you, covering you in a sea of regret and longing. It dawns on you now that you can’t lose her. You can’t say goodbye. You won’t say goodbye. So without thinking, you run as fast as you can, dodging mud puddles and holes in the ground as you run like lightning. You have to stop her, you have to apologize. You have to get her back. You can’t lose her too. No, you just can’t.

You’re wheezing, coughing your lungs out as you run faster and faster, getting closer to her house. God, you wish you wouldn’t have smoked that cigarette, but it was too late. And now all you care about is finding her before it’s too late.

You make it to her front porch and pound on the rusty door, desperately clawing your way back into her life. You have to try, you have to try. After two more sharp pounds to the door, she opens it swiftly as shock registers on her face.

“Joel, what are you…”

You cut her off, too desperate to wait any longer. You come back crawling to her like a starving dog that’s lost its owner, pleading for her to take you back. You say her name anguished, your eyes tearing up and filling with puddles as you feel a teardrop trickle down your cheek like the soft droplets of rain that encase your cold body.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything. For always starting fights, for blowing up in your face from things that weren’t your fault. For breaking your heart over and over. I just… I’m so sorry. Forgive me. Forgive me, please. Because if you don’t then I can never forgive myself for ruining what we have because it’s the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me. I need you, baby. I need you,” you desperately plead as more tears fall down your face, blurring your vision from the beauty that stands in front of you.

“Hey, stop. It’s okay. I’m right here. See?” She asks as she grazes her warm hand over your scruff, catching a falling tear with the tip of her thumb as her eyes glaze over yours, regret filling her face. “Joel, why did you come?” she asks as she looks into your eyes eagerly, looking for an answer in your blurring eyes.

“To apologize. To tell you I can’t live without you. I…I…” you struggle with the words, getting caught in your throat as you choke them out. But you say it, you have to say it. “I love you…” you whisper as your voice fills the void, your heart bleeding out on the dirt that you stand on, screaming her name as you try to claw your way from the hollow ground.

“You love me…?” She asks with softness flowing off her voice.

“Yes. So much. Please, baby. I love you so goddamn much it hurts.”

Her hand brushes your jawline, narrowly tracing your beard as her eyes start to water. You slowly graze your fingers against her cheek as you catch a falling teardrop and wipe it away shakily.

“I…I love you too. I always have. I always will,” she chokes out.

You close your arms around her and bring her into your chest, crushing her against the wet plaid material as more tears spill down your face, landing in her damp hair as you run your fingers through it, feeling that velvety touch that you missed so goddamn much. “I’m not letting you go again, baby. Never ever,” you breathe out, clinging to her like your life depends on it.

“I’m sorry for walking out. I didn’t want to, I really didn’t. I just…I…”

You tilt her head up and crush your lips to hers, feeling that soft, velvety skin that you longed to taste again. She folds into you, wrapping her hands around your shirt and pulling at the buttons, desperate to get near you again. You slide your tongue in her mouth and encase her flavor all over your tongue, basking in her warmth as you melt into her. She pulls you into the house and slams the door closed, still connected by her touch.

She pulls apart from you and stares up at you with longing eyes. Loving eyes. “Don’t go back tonight, Joel. Stay with me,” she says in a desperate, needy tone.

You draw a line with your thumb down her jawline, memorizing every perfect feature on her face. “I’ll stay. For however long you want me to,” you promise, your words filling up your chest with warmth as another tear slips down your face.

“Forever?” she asks with hope filling her eyes.

“Forever.”

You spend the rest of the night just holding her, both of you in wet tears as you lay all your emotions on the table. It’s exactly what you should’ve done all along. This is what you needed. You needed to feel your feelings, not bottle them up. But this felt good, it felt…natural. And so you stay like that the rest of the night, wrapped up in each other and losing yourself in one another. But this is where you belong, where you need to be. You’re home. With her, with your love. Your glowing, beautiful rose petal. Your forever and always.

Tags: @iamasaddie

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oncewhenalongtimeago · 8 months

Text

Sorry, but I Think I Lost Your Plot

Pairing: Onesided!Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Modern!Fem!Reader

Words: 1,699

You’re stuck on Berk. You get by. (Httyd1)

Tags: Time Travel, Reader into Movieverse

Next>

You groaned, stumbling back unsteadily as you got up onto your feet, staring at the strangely clothed people around you. Some of them, the ones that weren’t too busy marching to and fro down the path, stared back.

You rubbed your butt, sore form where you had been thrown suddenly, roughly and randomly onto some clearly well-traveled wooden planking.

“Uh, Hello?” You muttered, half to yourself, as you ogled at horned helmets and worn fur boots. It was like you had landed in some odd ren faire full of odd-smelling bodybuilders.

As people began to clear, you wandered further down the path. You found it difficult as you struggled to weave past the hurriedly rushing crowd, though eventually you settled on a woman who seemed generally well-mannered if not a bit intimidating in the way she towered over your nervous form, deciding to stop and try and ask for directions.

“Excuse me,” You started anxiously, “Where am I? Do you know?”

As she responded, quite irritatedly and animatedly, you found that you didn’t understand her at all.

Your arrival and integration into the general populace was somewhat seamless. There were so many people on Berk that it wasn’t hard to blend in, not after the initial confusion, and after you’d lost your odd garb.

And it was Berk, as you’d found out the first night, as the hearty seaside village had been suddenly and violently attacked by a loud entourage of angry, fire-breathing reptiles, and all of the puzzle pieces had fallen into place.

Initially appreciative, you’d taken to your new, schoolless life with gusto. You had more pressing things to worry about, after all. Like not dying. But then came the pressing realization that there was no internet. It was awfully boring with no internet.

And if you’d ever gotten home, you dreaded all the time you would probably have to spend in school making up for the lost time. You were already part way through the school year. The thought of having to do it all over again gave you the hives.

You had only spent a little while panicking as the lines between fiction and reality blended together, rocking your world, though that was probably attributed more in large to the fact that you had a hard time panicking when your life was in mortal danger.

Either way, you carried on well enough. After a short run in with homelessness, a couple living by the grazing fields had been nice enough to take you into their stables and home and feed you and clothe you and teach you their language, helping you just enough until you had your sea legs and could pay them back in kind. In effect, you were their live-in maid, but you were fine with that, as long as you were well fed and clothed and had a roof over your head.

Unfortunately, you weren’t very good at any of the jobs you picked, though you weren’t any less than mediocre, so it was manageable. You couldn’t fight, as you discovered after many days spent being smacked onto your ass via wooden sword, but you were a decent delivery girl and an alright shepard, shiphand and maid, though you usually stuck to delivery girl and salesperson on account of the fact that you just weren’t that strong.

It was all enough to keep your head barely above water.

It was a lot harder than you’d thought it would be, living on Berk. You did a lot for very little. But that’s just the way it was there, it seemed.

And through all of your mis and fortune, you settled into the unwavering decision to mind your business and let the plot continue on as it should. After all, everything would turn out fine in the end, wouldn’t it?

You sighed, dropping your load, a set of newly repaired wooden oars, against one of the many house walls lining the wood pathway, you brushed the bottom hem of your tunic, clearing away invisible dust there. It was the kind that you knew wasn’t there but couldn’t help but to imagine after walking into a spiderweb earlier, the phantom strings having a strong impact on your nerves.

You bemoaned your choice of outfit, thinking you’d have been less irritated if you’d just have worn a skirt today. The feeling would be gone if you could have just taken the offending article off.

Considering that most of the women on this island wore pants underneath and heavy layers of wrappings and furs throughout, you found the act to be more performative than anything.

It was an idea that often had your generous hosts disgruntled. But, they weren’t your parents.

You stretched your arms up into the air, huffing as you feel your back crack, admiring the darkening sky and feeling a light chill run down your back. You blinked wearily up into the sky.

You tipped the oars over from where they were leaned against a wall, trying to leverage them back onto your shoulder, eyeing the deserted path forwards. It wouldn't do to linger, especially this late.

“Hopefully there’s some stew left at home,” You whined to yourself in your native tongue, wobbling unsteadily forward as you tried to regain your balance.

As you did, you spot someone quickly rushing towards you from around a bend. You stumbled, startled, causing you to slip as he attempted to brake, both of you falling messily onto the floor.

Your two oars clattered across the ground and your knees stung as you attempted to get back onto your knees.

“Sorry, sorry,” The boy said as he clumsily gathered his effects, a worn old journal and a long charcoal stick. You just rub your head, squinting dazedly as you feel the scrapes on your palms.

“It’s, uh, It’s fine,” you stutter, waving your hands out in front of you, pushing back up onto your feet.

You didn’t know it until later, but that was your first meeting with Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third.

“Here,” You said, “Found it sitting on one of the boulders… by the bridge. The, uh, the rock in front of the docks.”

You peered up over the Forge counter from where you’d, again, slipped, feeling quite proud of your almost rhyme. Then hit your head on the counter. You pointedly ignored the bump in your head, staring up at Hiccup who is standing awkwardly at the window sans coat, plus apron.

After a moment of silence, during which you became exceedingly unsure of yourself, you asked;

“It is yours, right?” You hesitated. He just stared at you like a deer in headlights.

“I saw some of the drawings in it,” A blueprint of something with a lot of knives, some chicken scratch, what looked like a cannon, “It was nice.”

He looked really embarrassed.

“I didn’t mean to look,” You corrected hastily, “But it was open, and no one was around, and I thought I ought to return it.”

You wondered why he wasn’t speaking. You knew you still had an accent. You felt a little self conscious about it.

“...Thanks.” He said awkwardly, after a while. He looked constipated. Maybe he was.

“Well, okay. Bye,” You said as you got up, brushing the dust off your knees. You wore a skirt today.

You turned to leave, glancing back for just a second. You’re a little confused by the whole encounter.

You couldn't help but to look at him oddly as you left, making a beeline across the clearing, hoping soon to escape the uncomfortable atmosphere and find cover in the crowds of Vikings lurking just beyond the next few houses.

You regretted picking it up, now. His journal probably would have been fine left well enough alone.

You’d never been the most observant.

But Hiccup… He was kind of weird.

You caught him staring a lot. Many times, many places. It was very convenient, to the point where you thought he might’ve been orchestrating it.

You brushed it off, however. You’d barely shared more than a few words, after all, so why would he?

Once you put your mind to it, it was easy to ignore.

You stood still at the base of a hill, a pail full of water and rags in both hands as you stared up at the Chief's house, standing large and proud, thankful that, finally, the dragon raids were over.

Grass shifted gently around your feet as draconic wings beat above, sending gusts of wind down your way.

You stumbled across this moment by accident, watching as Vikings crowded around Hiccup enthusiastically, giving him their congratulations as he steadied himself on his new leg.

You remembered this moment from the end of the first movie. If you were remembering it correctly, Astrid was supposed to punch Hiccup in the shoulder and then they were supposed to kiss, weren’t they?

You waited as she walked up to him. There it was.

You grin as he reeled back, rubbing his arm.

Astrid leaned forward. But, you found that instead of looking at her, you and Hiccup meet eyes. The other Vikings are too occupied with each other to notice, you thought.

You couldn’t help but to feel a little confused, a smile falling in favor of a bewildered look, as you considered him. Stiff shoulders under his fur coat and tunic. You were too far away to make out any hard details.

The moment was broken a second later as Hiccup’s attention was drawn away by the Chief clapping him on the shoulder. He stumbled forwards.

You follow soon after, sighing and turning to look down over the rest of Berk, careful this time not to trip as you usually did along this slope. You should get going. You had some laundry to dump, after all.

You couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. It would have been cool to experience something from the movie. But it can’t be helped.

Whether he got a kiss or not isn’t that important, and in the end it had nothing to do with you.

By the time he looked back down, you were gone.

#how to train your dragon #hiccup haddock #hiccup x reader #reader insert #httyd #x reader #my writing #fem reader #female reader

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ashwii · 10 months

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Thanks for answering! Could you go into how you paint? It's always the trickiest part for me

Hehe sure thing! I even recorded some of it, bc for me personally, i learn a lot easier when it's visualized like that, aha.

So first off, we'll start off with our base!

Personally, I like a lot of gradients and color variations to start off with, but these can be solid base colors of you prefer :3. From this, ALL layers are gonna be merged down into one, no separate layers here yet :D

Going forward, I have a video done here kinda showing what I do :DD. I'll explain below the video in more detail what I do

First the base shadiws and highlights — for the shadows I'll usually pick from the color wheel (a darker, more saturated tone, plus I'll also shift the hue some) and draw right on the canvas. For the base highlights, i'll almost always use a bright orange on whatever adjustment layer makes your color nice and bright and glowy (for PTS it's Luminosity, and for CSP and Procreate I usually use an Add layer).

THEN I DO SOME MESSY BLENDING OUT, nothing pretty yet, just getting some of the colors blended out hehe

Afterwards, the drawing usually looks like this :0 very messy lol

NEXT !!! PAINTING TIME !!! As show in the video, it's allllll about color picking and going over what you've already done. For a lot of it I use a softer brush, letting the colors blend together more softly, and then for other portions I'll use a harder pen for where I want more of the color that I picked to show through. Sometimes I'll draw over the line art all together if I don't think it's needed, or i"ll draw the line art back in after painting over it if I want those lines still :0

And there's just a looooot of drawing over and painting over. The 20 seconds you saw of painting and blending usually goes on for like 3-6 hours, depending on the drawing XD.

After ALLLL of that, I get smth like this

AND this was pretty much just working on leo. Now to work on the background elements >:3c same progress, just for the atmosphere and not the character!

YAY NOW THAT'S DONE !! Now all the paintings done soooooo

Color correction and final touches >:3c no more painting, now there's just a bunch of fun glowy layers we add on top of this heheheeh

AND WE DONE >:DDD

I hope that helped some djejwjww. Tbh, the way I learn the most is if an artist im trying to learn from straight up just streams what they’re doing, but I don't rlly know anywhere i could stream or who would be interested ;w; but I hope this helps enough anyway!

If there are any other questions, I'll be happy to answer! Ive said before I rlly like playing art teacher heheheheh <33

#art tut #ashask

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strawbbella · 1 year

Text

Helloo~ I was bored in class one day so I thought "why not do an art study of the artists I like" except it incredibly scuffed and I really just looked at a bunch of art on their page and i tried my best to replicate one of em

So these are the 2 'studies' i did that day

1st:

My ver:

(Art by @izuke-the-zombie )

ref pic:

What I noticed first while sketching is ofc the super gorgeous cute style. Though not long into the sketching phase noticed her lines are quite sharp and pronouced, for most of her works she keeps her sketch lines making it seem more mmm hazy is the right word? Or effortless, but with every sharp line a rounded(?) line contrasts it, giving it that signature fluffiness. I absolutely adore how well this all mixes together, i dunno just sonethin bout her lines bro

I love the expression, really gives off absolutely love sick, I didn't capture the eyes quite well (I blame my chonk pen because all good artists blames their materials/j) Macaque looks more scared than breath taken and I put the eyes too far apart. I basically deprived the eyes of its soul lmao note for next time I do a study.

Ok this part has not much to do with the ref pic but her art in general and that includes her writing. I adore the cute HCs and little stories/AUs she would post, just so much creativity and its always so comforting to read as theyre so wholesome and cute. Im so sure one of my first posts here were a drawing of one of her HCs LIKE SRSLY SO CREATIVE. I was also surprised as I saw in some artworks she's able to draw structures and environments that draws your into the scene, its fits the universe so well, just adding to that little wonderment of awe. Shes amazing at coloring too, real soft, but still makes the characters pop, i'd say more but my brain is short-circuiting from all this analyzing. Shes just all round incredibly talented and creative honestly. Her style is exactly what i wanted to have as a kid and what im striving to have now. So cuteee

So far 11/10 art style, love the chibiness, cuteness, expressions, the pure and pastel feel and colors, and details. Just love her in general<3 check out her page lol

2nd:

My ver:

(Art by @clatteringbats )

ref pic:

Ok so immediately off the bat I knew I was gonna have some trouble here since I've been drawing chibis from the very start.

Just from observing her art I alr saw it has a lot of movement in em, lots of dynamic poses, and LOTS of embraces, really just pouring with that fluff/angst energy. At first I tried the anime body guidelines and boom instant error. Though not all that noticable the heads have sum chonk in em, especially the cheeks, giving that cute factor despite not being a chibi style. Im all for it. The lines are very soft, not a lot of sharp edges and if there are theyre placed in a very subtle way. The expressions are wonderful: from a subtle hopeless smile from an overwhelming roar of grief and anger, she's mastered the the art of slight details that give these effects their magic. Her lines are sketchy but not messy (does that make sense) they clump together neatly, giving the illustration clarity.

AND OMG HAVE YOU SEEN HER ANIMATICS? THE MOVEMENT, THE PACING, THE SMOOTHNESS, THE INTERACTIONS, THE EMOTIONS, THE EVERYTHING. THEYRE SO AAAA ITS LIKE A PROFESSIONAL STORYBOARD FOR A TV SHOW.

The way she uses color too— just o h m y g o d .

Her colors are so bright and clear, so nicely blended together, so bold, but not in the way that burns your eyes, she keeps them neutral in a way, that envokes that sense of harmony; like a sunset. (I legit have one of her colored artworks as my wallpaper) I have lots more to observe, but so far this is all I have to say. The skill of overflowing

Anways, back to the task at hand. I made the heads bigger than i shoulda , cause well chibi artist ehe. Again, I blame my chonk pencil. I didn't get the embrace quite right, but Ion think I could level with the queen of LITERALLY DRAWING TEARJERKING HUGS LIKE? I tried with the hands, I swear. I knew they were a little small but only now am I realizing its that way cause I made the heads too big. I wanna try drawing more in her style as its really just full of movement and flowiness, I wanna try mastering the way she draws perspectives too. I noticed for perspective shots theres this grid for the sky and ground (which is genius) will try that out when I actually pick up digital art again.

Check out her page, theres lots to see shes amazing 11/10 artstyle<3

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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 8 months

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Gotta say your au mixed with the art style and such and amazing work in what we seen so far with the horror and some laughs it's just become a treat every time I saw new details (whenever you supplies them up, thanks for that)

I know you already disclosure that it's gonna be bad BAD TIMES for the puppets gang but does it have it's soft ad fluff times??

The shot were Frank ask Wally if they're dying will looking up for the ceiling hasn't leave my brain, such a raw emotional clear on them, I wonder when they were just the two of them for a while they cuddle or hold hands for comfort??

I just.i just want them to have small victories of comfort

of course it has fluff and comfort! a lot of it! having a nice blend of both makes the fluff feel sweeter & the hurt hit all the harder <3 i will now supply some (written (for now)) examples and tidbits. putting it under the cut cause it got kinda Long

Frank & Wally do become very affectionate with each other! ofc as soon as Frank woke Wally was like "ok im holding your hand everywhere we go, this is Non Negotiable". because its dark! he doesn't want Frank to stray too far or get lost! and it's easier to yank Frank outta harm's way if they're already holding hands. comfort factors into it later, when Frank starts initiating & Wally does it purely to make sure Frank is still there. but yeah they get Very comfortable with each other, to the point where when Eddie wakes up he asks Frank - misinterpreting the situation entirely - "if you'd rather have Wally than me, i understand." ofc Frank laughs his ass off bc uhhh no that is Not what their relationship is, Ed

~ similarly, (almost) everyone acclimates to Wally's need to be as close as possible at all feasible times. he's Very physically affectionate and has little to no regard for personal space or boundaries anymore. like, he'll listen when someone asks him to back off or somethn, but until then he does not give a fuck. and this rubs off on the others as they get used to it

and then there's OH WAIT IDK IF I'VE MENTIONED THIS YET but! Wally - during his main exploration phase - found the Welcome Home episode recordings! and he eventually figured out how to work a tv he found, so he added "watch an episode of me and my friends" into his Routine. when the others wake up, he includes them in this. is it horrifying for them at first? yeah. but they get used to it and find similar if not the same comfort and enjoyment in it that Wally does. like in This Scribble, Frank & Wally & Poppy & Howdy are all watching an episode, and are quoting the lines they've memorized. they all cuddle up on a couch together and watch their favorite show <3

& Wally also teaches them (as they wake up) how to repair and care for themselves / each other, sleeping or otherwise. picture a little sewing circle of Frank, Wally, and Poppy, with Poppy giving tips and guidance on how to improve. these sessions provide them with genuine smiles and sometimes even some laughs.

before Wally & Home's divorce, they'd pass much of the time with games! go-fish, charades, i spy, etc. one of their favorites was when Wally would toss a ball at Home's door, and Home would hit it back. additionally, whenever Wally discovered something new, he'd rush back to Home with it - either the information or the actual thing, if he could carry it. ex: when he'd find books or files, he'd bring them to Home and (quietly) read them aloud while resting against them

and just in general know that the Post Office is a place of safety. Wally has made sure it's secure. i like to imagine like... little craft sessions and impromptu dancing lessons and story sharing going on in there among the awake neighbors. they try to have fun despite it all

that's all i can recall for Act One's fluff tidbits rn, but trust me there is More. and also abundant angsty comfort. the downright painful stuff has to earn its existence yk yk this au is Not grimdark

#oh there's also a really specific scene in my mind of like.#poppy taking notice that wally has developed a disregard for his appearance & that he doesn't seem to think he's attractive anymore #and recruits frank & howdy to give him like... a lil spa day as best they can #they tie (most of) his hair up in a ponytail and scrub some of the dirt out & they make a little patchwork sweater for him #and poppy tells him he looks very pretty #and wally has a moment of '...? im pretty? im still...? oh...!'#they notice him putting a teensy bit of attention towards his appearance going forward from this #oh also he makes sure they All get a little 'spa day'#good feelings all around....#rambles from the bog #wh lights out au #they all pick up little Habits towards each other #like wally will hold others' hands and just fiddle with em w/o a real point or goal #frank will adjust his friends' clothes hair if it's a lil Too out of place #poppy will hold her wings around/behind others w/o really realizing it #howdy will pick up / carry the smaller neighbors for no particular reason #eddie tends to keep a hand on the nearest person #etc etc!#there was. Something Else i wanted to add. i don't remember what it was!#but yeah! there are good things. there are Always good things.

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joshsindigostreak · 7 months

Text

I See Hell in Your Eyes

Chapter Two

“Does the deer forgive the wolf?”

Josh Kiszka x Vampire!Reader

Warnings: None other than descriptions of blood.

Word Count: 3504

You hobbled through alleys and back streets for what seemed like hours, desperate to get to your destination without being seen, or worse, stumbling upon a human and doing something stupid. Your wrists were still burning, bleeding, and locked together because of those stupid fucking silver handcuffs that asshole shackled you with. As you twisted your way through the city, your mind was reeling with theories as to how that man was able to resist your Persuasion like that. It was unheard of! In the three centuries you had been alive you had never seen a human of all things resist that. Humans by nature were so gullible and easily persuaded to do anything that it was hardly even considered a “power” by other creatures. But he not only resisted it, he completely fooled you into thinking it was working. Arguably this was much worse, a fucking human getting the best of you? He needed to be dead. You needed to bleed him dry, watch the light slowly leave those pretty brown eyes of his, and leave him behind in some alley while you get on with your life.

Turning a corner, you finally spot the heavy metal door you had been walking towards all night. It was very nondescript, blending into the alley wall it was stationed in. With the last bit of strength you had, you start kicking the metal hoping the occupant on the other side would hear you and let you in. Your hands were too sore to knock properly, your fingers curled into your palms in defeat from the sterling silver of the cuffs.

You kept kicking the door, getting more and more forceful the longer you went without a response. Finally, you could hear slow footsteps on the other side, a familiar grumbling voice complaining on its way to the door, before dramatically sliding it open and flooding the alley with light.

“Alright, alright, calm the fuck down-” a thick New York accent greets your ears and older, crinkly blue eyes took in your appearance and looked you up and down, immediately spotting the cuffs and blistering wrists, “Ah shit come inside, love.” He was probably one of your favorite faces, but you wouldn’t admit it. He went simply by “Les”, no last name, and never elaborated on what it was short for. He was one of the most prolific arms dealers this side of the country. He was human…as far as you could tell, but you always suspected he was a lot older than he said. Les had bailed you out a few times after you pissed off the wrong creatures, and here you were again, needing his help.

You gave him a half smile as he stood aside for you to come in and swiftly slammed the door shut behind you. Your ears were met with familiar Italian opera music playing on a record player in one of the other rooms. Various weapons he had collected over the decades lined the walls, with a few taken apart sitting on his work bench in the center of the room. You made your way over to the bench, sitting on a vacant stool and hauling your mangled wrists onto the surface of the workbench, wincing as the cuffs dug deeper into your skin and making the most unpleasant sizzling sounds.

Les sat on a stool next to you, immediately dragging over a tool kit to start picking at the locks. “Now what have you done this time?”

You start rattling off details of your night, how you just wanted to go out and have a nice meal in peace, running into…him, and how he blind sided you in the alley behind the bar. Les nodded along while working at the locks, you noticed he was being extra careful to not break them, which started to annoy you, “Can’t you just cut them off?”

“And damage sterling silver cuffs like these? Hell no. That's more work for me to fix later, these have more value than you think.” Of course, business always came first. You slouched in a petulant matter, sighing in relief as one of the cuffs popped open, freeing one of your hands. Les started in on the second one immediately as you shook out your free hand, letting the skin heal and close up.

Les looked up at you curiously, “now what do you mean he wasn’t affected by your Persuasion at all?”

“It didn’t even phase him! He just kept going on his little ‘I hate your kind you will pay for existing’ spiel and trying to say I was behind a bunch of bodies being left all over the city? I never leave bodies behind!” Les narrowed his eyes at you, “I mean, not in a long time!” The second cuff popped off your wrist, and you were finally free from the blasted things. You shook out your hands as your wrists healed, relief flooding your body as the wounds closed. Your skin healed quickly, but it still left you in your original predicament of being hungry.

Les scooped up his tools and slid the cuffs off to the side, “Now…don’t quote me on this but I’ve heard that some hunters have gotten their hands on some sort of magic to protect themselves from your kind.”

“What kind of magic would do that?”

“Sigils mostly, witches are all about their sigils as you know,” he said with a slight eye roll. “But those hunter families, you know the ones who are born into it? Where their whole family line consists of hunters blah blah blah, they typically have a few witches to help them out for their…line of work. It's honestly a little hypocritical to me, using witches to hunt other supernatural creatures, but you know how hunters are, they’re not exactly ethical, even if they think otherwise.”

You inwardly groaned at the idea you ran into one of those bloodline hunters. You didn’t cross paths with them often, the last time had been a few decades ago when one of them had ended up in actual Vampire territory, way too confident for their own good. They didn’t make it out alive. You recalled their skull was used as a trophy, and a warning, for quite some time.

“There aren’t very many of those families left anyway. The Turners were wiped out back in the 60s, the McGavins haven’t been in the country in years, last I heard they were hiding out in Canada. I remember some French family that stupidly thought they had cleaned out most of Paris but found out the hard way that they had not.” you counted on your fingers as you tried to remember the fates of the hunter families, your eyes trailing off lost in thought.

Les nodded as he crossed his arms, “...have you heard of the Kiszkas?”

Oh no. Oh god no. Not them. You had heard stories, even lost some friends to those fuckers. They were a long line of hunters, from “the old country” as it were. You had kept your distance from them, they mainly kept to themselves on the western side of the country. There were rumors about how ruthless the newest generation was, and how there was an alleged set of twins that were particularly nasty.

“They haven’t been this far east in a long time. No…it couldn’t have been one of them…” You tried to reason.

“For your sake I hope you’re right and it was just some random dickhead adrenaline junkie. But you have to consider the possibility given that he wasn’t even phased by any of your Persuasion tricks.” He stood up from the stool and walked over to a small fridge in the corner, “still hungry?”

You looked up at the sight of the open fridge and saw a few blood bags sitting on the top shelf, and your mouth instantly watered, and your gums itched to let down your sharp teeth. Blood bags weren’t ideal, and no Vampire would say it was their favorite way to eat, but they worked when necessary. “Since when do you keep blood bags?” You tried to keep your voice steady and held onto the table so you didn’t launch yourself at the fridge.

“Since I seem to have little Vampires show up at my door at all hours of the night needing my help,” he said warmly before plucking a bag off the shelf and carrying it over to you. You took it instantly, ripping off the end of the tube that was connected to the bag, using it as a straw. It was almost embarrassing how fast you slurped it down, but Les handed you a second one to make sure you were ok. The two of you had a quiet understanding. He always stayed neutral when it came to the politics of supernatural creatures, never taking any sides and helped out whomever paid him what he was owed. Strictly business, he always said. His neutrality was what earned him his respect, but he never helped out hunters. Even though he was an arms dealer, he had never once done any sort of work with them. Not for any virtuous reason, but they had fucked him over a few too many times and he just couldn’t be bothered with them after that.

“The sun will be up soon…you need to get home before it does.” You glanced up at the clock on the wall, and saw you had about an hour before proper sunrise. Shit, you’d have to hurry to get back across the city to your apartment.

Standing up, you place the second empty blood bag on the table, “thanks, Les,”

“Any time, kid,” he always referred to you as ‘kid’, even if you were as far as you knew centuries older than him, “just promise to not be stupid out there, ok?”

You nodded as you slipped out the door, and back into the night.

~*~

However, across town, a particular hunter was not having a good night. Not only did you completely give him the slip, he lost his only lead on the case he had been given by his father. Typically, he worked cases with his twin, Jake, but this was one of his first solo missions, and he wanted to prove himself. He sat in his kitchen, pouring over the evidence folders he had been given, looking at the photos of dead bodies, all with familiar puncture wounds on their necks. It didn’t take a genius to know a Vampire did it, and this one was sloppy. One of the bodies was found in a shopping center parking lot, and was nearly discovered by other humans who still didn’t know Vampires existed. The hunter had wondered what ignorance felt like, and if it was as blissful as often described. He never had the chance to know if the world truly had monsters or not. His bedtime stories were always filled with creatures, his schoolwork always supplemented by “additional” education at home. He knew what weapons were best for whatever creature by the time he was in third grade.

He knew Vampires couldn’t stand silver, and had even witnessed it first hand when a particularly stupid one tried to break into his family's house when he was roughly six years old. The vampire had gotten ahold of his twin and he had the wherewithal to grab one of the knives hidden under his bed and stabbed the creature in the leg, disarming him until his parents rushed in and…took care of it. That was the night he saw a Vampire die for the first time as well. A silver tipped stake, shot out of his fathers crossbow directly into its heart. It didn’t turn into dust, like he thought. The creature collapsed onto the ground, lifeless, but it was what happened to the body that startled him. The skin shrank back and turned this disgusting gray color, almost shriveled on the bones, especially in the face. The eyes glazed over in a yellow cast, stuck open in surprise from being shot, and the death rattle it emitted would haunt his nightmares for months.

The hunter sat back, running his hand over his face, trying to think of any other leads. His mind kept circling back to the alley, and how easily you got past him. He thanked his lucky stars his brothers hadn’t been present, or else he would’ve never heard the end of it, especially from the youngest of the four. It pissed him off how ill prepared he was, he had been so confident going into that bar that he’d capture you and take you back to his family’s estate for questioning. The idea of dragging you in front of his father had spurred him on for over a week as he tracked your whereabouts. He could have, and was usually instructed to just kill you and be done with it, but he had the thought that you might be useful in leaking any other information on the Vampire nests that infested the city. It took a lot to impress their father, especially when it came to hunting because of how important their work was. Ridding the world of that filth and keeping fellow humans safe was paramount.

However, his brain would not stop flashing back to how you looked, and he hated himself for it. The stupid ponytail you had your hair in, the laughable get-up you had on to “blend in” with the other humans, the giggle you let out when he spoke to you, the way your eyes sparkled as you listened, but it was all a ruse. A sham, no different than a cheetah blending into the savannah grass in hopes to capture a gazelle. He closed his eyes as he remembered the kiss, still a little shocked that kissing a Vampire wasn’t much different than kissing another human. The warmth of your body surprised him the most. He hadn’t expected your hands to be so soft, let alone your lips. He hated himself even more for thinking about it like that. These were rookie thoughts about rookie mistakes and he had too much experience under his belt to get distracted by a single Vampire. He had to focus.

But most importantly, he had to find you again to get the answers he was desperate for.

~*~

Weeks went by and you hadn’t had any run-ins with that annoying human. You had been living your life in relative peace. Feeding where you could and being extra careful to not leave behind any “evidence”. Heeding Les’ advice, you kept yourself out of trouble. You were being good!

The human in your possession had been very easy to lure into the back corner of the park, where the trees were thicker and people hardly walked by. You had him up against a tree, fangs clamped into his throat as you enjoyed the rush of blood into your mouth. You almost moaned at the taste, your left hand gripping his hair to hold his head still. As always you instructed the human to remain quiet, assuring him that he wouldn’t remember any of this when you were finished.

You were so close to being fully sated, seconds away from being finished when you heard a familiar, and aggravating voice behind you, “let him go.”

With a small gasp, you pulled your mouth away from the human's throat and looked over your shoulder at the source of the words, “... can I help you?”

“I want you to get the fuck away from that man, for starters,” the hunter said.

Rolling your eyes, “Ok, fine.” You turned to the human, who was still in a daze from being fed on. Quickly, you bit into your finger to draw some of your own blood, rubbing it into the wounds of his throat to heal them as if they were never there. You took his chin between your thumb and index finger, looking him directly into the eyes as you instructed, “I need you to go home, you were never here in the park, you don’t remember me, or the lughead behind me.” The hunter scoffed at that, “you’re going to go home, eat some food, take some iron, and go to bed. Now go on and get a cab.” You smiled, tapping his cheek as the human nodded, and walked off into the main area of the park and out of sight.

“See? Catch and release!” You turned toward the hunter and threw your hand at the direction the human had walked off towards.

The hunter rolled his eyes, “You know I could kill you for even doing that.”

“And yet here I am. Alive.”

“‘Alive’ is debatable.”

You fully turned towards him, leaning back against the tree. “Alright, Boy Scout, what do you actually want with me?”

In a speed that you weren’t aware humans possessed, the hunter was on you once again like in the alley that first night, silver knife once again pressing into your throat, burning the skin. “I just have a few questions.”

You threw your hands up near your face, you weren’t risking him cuffing you again. “Yeah? Same here.” He was so close, his face inches from yours. This time the moon was shining overhead, its nearly full face was reflected in those big brown eyes of his. They looked so determined as they glared at you, he wasn’t faking his disgust at all.

He ignored your response, “well, since we last met,” he hissed, his mouth twisting into a snarl, “three more bodies showed up just outside the city.”

“Once again, that wasn’t me,” you emphasized, rolling your eyes.

“I know your kind are more in contact than you’d like for us to believe, do you know of anyone who would be sloppy enough to do that?”

Staring at him, “it's not like we go over that in the meetings,” you deadpanned. He pressed the knife even further into your skin, blood starting to trickle out of the wound, “Ok! No, I haven't heard anything. None of my friends are that stupid. Anyone who leaves bodies behind like that are normally really young and either don’t know any better, or don’t give a shit.”

“Do you know of any new Vampires around this town?”

“I haven’t heard of any newbies for awhile. We’re more selective than you think.”

“How did you get turned?” For a fraction of a second you saw his face soften, as if he hadn’t meant to ask that out loud.

But the question itself made you pause. You never thought about the how, and why you were turned. It was so long ago that you firmly shut the door to your previous life in your mind. You weren’t one of those self-loathing Vampires who felt cursed by their existence. You loved your life. You loved the power you had, forever young, being able to do whatever you wanted and go wherever the wind took you. Longing for human life was only in the movies. Being turned freed you in so many ways, any reminder of before was unnecessary. You weren’t that kid anymore. You never would be again, and you were fine with that.

Cutting your reverie short, you straightened your shoulders against the tree, and smirked at him, “personal questions like that require dinner.”

“Yeah well I’m not a big fan of the kind of dinner you like,” the corners of his mouth twitched. Did he almost smile? Whatever expression it was, it was gone instantly. The snarl returned.

The two of you stood there, staring at each other. The mutual resentment was palpable.

“All these questions, Boy Scout, and I still don’t have your name.”

He studied you for a second, weighing his options. He briefly thought about giving you a fake name, but his ego wanted you to know exactly who he was. His name had weight in their world, it meant something. Well, his last name did. His first name on its own hadn’t been given its own reputation yet. He had always been in a unit with his brothers that just their last name was all they needed to get anywhere. It struck fear into other creatures. Sometimes, fear is good.

“Josh.”

You were really being pinned to a tree by a man named Josh? Of fucking course. You were right by calling him Boy Scout, it fit almost too perfectly.

“Josh what?” You narrowed your eyes, he was playing keepaway with the details on purpose.

Pressing the knife even further into your throat, the dark blood trickling even more onto the knife, spilling onto his thumb that held it in place. Vampire blood was different from humans, not nearly as red, but a darker, sludgier color. The stain it left was unmistakable.

He leaned even closer to your face, all but whispering, “...Kiszka”

Well, fuck.

Tag List: @lightmylove-gvf , @dannyandthekiszkas , @gretasmokerising , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema ,

#josh kiszka #josh kiszka x reader #greta van fic #greta van fleet #josh gvf #i see hell in your eyes #🩸🖤#I hope y’all like this one :)

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bungowife · 3 months

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I’ve been following your art for a long time and I was just wondering what do you use as inspiration for your stuff, and do you have tips for people who kind of want a cartoony stretchy and very expressive art style (sorry if this is too much to ask I just love your stuff! Also what do you use to draw your stuff)

Thank you!!! Nice to see long-time followers :3

When I was first learning how to draw cartoons I bought the book Cartoon Animation by Preston Blair. It's a really good source that covers all the basics + some animation. When I started animating as a high school freshman I copied his walk cycles before trying anything on my own

This is a very old mini guide I made for a friend on how I push poses so the art's a little outdated but the idea is the same... I think line of action is neat lol I try to make the character follow the line as much as possible with the only thing that might break the silhouette being appendages like tails etc

My personal rule for expressions is that it just has to look like an exaggerated version of a real expression a human could actually do. To me it's not as appealing when artists add wrinkles in random places with no forethought, faces stretch around the eyes and mouth and chin and that's where I usually place wrinkles

I take inspiration from a lot of shtuffs these are just the ones I can think of right now:

-Fleischer cartoons. Favorite 30s studio besides Van Beuren

-obviously 90s cartoons, for Smokey my main inspiration is Twisted Tales of Felix The Cat and Pat Ventura's shorts for Oh Yeah! Cartoons. Animation wise I try to do something similar to season 2 of Space Goofs and Cats Don't Dance

-90s 2d point and clicks. Two big favorites are Toonstruck and UFOs

-anything by Ralph Bakshi. Fully aware it's bad lol but Cool World is one of my favorite movies ever

-underground comix but specifically 80s/90s newave stuff

-music!!! I like psychobilly and ska and it helps me draw. Massive Frank Zappa fan too

I think it's good to vary what you take inspiration from. When I started drawing cartoons I didn't let my myself improve because I only took inspiration from 30s and 90s cartoons and was so bent on perfectly replicating it that I didn't develop my own style. I see a lot of cartoonists blend together because they're only influenced by ren and stimpy and looney tunes that they don't have their own voice or bring anything new to the table

I recently just switched to my relatively new ipad so I'm using Procreate and then Procreate Dreams and Toonsquid for animation. Since 2020 I had been using Firealpaca and pencil2d because they were both free. I used a screenless Gaomon tablet I got for 30-40 dollars. I do all my sketches on paper and then airdrop them to myself since my hand doesn't move as naturally when sketching on a screen

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grippingbeskar · 2 years

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Heyy! I saw an ask you posted saying you take fic requests so I thought I’d throw my hat in the ring.

This is a Frank Castle request for a smutty one shot:

Basically Frank and the reader are both hiding out in Micro’s basement and they are already together and while Micro is in another room they start to do the nasty.

Then Micro accidentally walks in and is all, “Gross, guys, c’mon I’m right over here.”

Reader tells him to get out.

And Frank says something along the lines of, “I’m planning to fuck my girl into this mattress either way.”

Micro goes away and they continue.

Very dirty. Very smutty. Maybe a little choking kink if you are comfortable writing that.

Anyway😂😂😂I’m so sorry I let intrusive thoughts win

homewrecker

frank castle x fem!reader

word count: 3.1k

a/n: omg it’s been so long since i wrote something for frank I HOPE YOU LIKE IT! thankyou so much for ur request i LOVED writing this!!!

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Because I’m bored, Frank.” You whine, and he just rolls his eyes, sitting on the other end of the make shift bed. You let your head fall back against the concrete wall, taking stock of your surroundings for the thousandth time today.

You’ve been in here for hours. Literal hours. Usually you can at least walk around the dirty basement Micro set up as his hold, but today you haven’t even been able to do that. The list of people not after you was shorter than the list of people that are, and while Micro works outside, somewhere, trying to get you two off the map, it leaves you with very little options but to sit here and stare at the wall.

At least you had one nice sight in this little room. The mattress hardly fit the both of you, and the walls were cracking and cold, but Frank sat in front of you, shirtless and a little sweaty because he had been trying to work out for at least 20 minutes. Every time he tried, though, you would push his arm, making him fall flat out of a push-up, or kick at his legs while he tried to do chin ups over the frame of the door.

It’s not that you didn’t want him to work out. God, he looked so fucking good when he did, all sweaty and breathing hard. It reminded you of how he looks after you fuck, and the mere thought was just too distracting when your cooped up in this room. So, you resorted to becoming a literal nightmare and ruining every attempt of his, because if you were suffering, you were going to make sure he was too.

“You’re bored, and makin’ me fall on my ass is the way you wanna entertain yourself?” He brushes off the dust on his pants from where you shoved him out of a plank.

“Well, it’s not like I’ve got TV or anything.” You look up at him, trying to compose yourself as he stands. No, more like looks above you, coming around the foot of the mattress on the floor and slowly kneeling next to you.

“Come ‘ere.” He shuffles next to you, wrapping you into his bare chest. He smells like metal and dust, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut so you don’t look further down, where his sweatpants aren’t hiding anything. Like, at all. “You’re worried. Look, I’ve been through this a hundred times over, I know it’s a lot but Micro’s gonna sort his shit out. We’re gonna get out of here, me and you, and then you can watch all the fuckin’ TV you want.”

“Yeah? Even Love Island?” Frank groans into the top of your head and you laugh. “So much Love Island that I pick up an accent?”

“Fuck me. Whatever you wanna do, princess.” His arm tightens and you look up, still averting your gaze from his pants. Frank and you have been together for a while now, and in literally any other situation you would have wasted the hours with him inside you, going slow and steady until both of you couldn’t think about time. You had spent a lot of hidden nights like that, but you know Micro was right outside.

The walls were concrete, but the door was flimsy. It was meant to look like part of the wall, so you could easily blend into the background. You didn’t even know there was a door there until Micro shoved you both into it when you arrived, needing you both to hide yourselves from the FBI agents he was sure were watching him.

That was three hours ago. Maybe he had left? Surely enough time had passed, and you had been so patient. You hadn’t so much as kissed Frank since Micro locked you in here - you were trying to be good. Respect his place. And a part of you didn’t really want anyone hearing the way you were with Frank - it would totally ruin your bad ass reputation.

Frank was the deciding factor, though. He hooked a finger under your chin, bringing your face up to his so he could kiss you. It was soft and soothing. He knew how scared you were, even if you didn’t admit it, and if he could do something to take your mind off it, you knew he would.

He tried to move underneath you to get a better angle, but you turned your face and looked towards the door.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was low, like he had just woken up.

“Micro is outside.” Frank just shrugs and kisses you again, and it takes all your self control to pull away again, although not too far so you could still keep your hands on him. “Frank.”

“Fuck ‘im. He’s probably not even there.” He pulls you back, and you let him flip you over on the mattress. His mouth moves across your throat, leaving a trail of wet kisses down to your collarbone.

“Frank - we can’t just-“ He looks up at you, and the sight makes you want to strip him down right there and then.

“You don’t wanna - that’s okay, baby. We can do whatever -“

“Fuck, Frank! I do, I really fucking do.” The smile that grows on his face is impossible to resist, and he starts to pull your shirt up, laying kisses along your tummy and working his way up to your sternum, stripping your shirt off over your head. “But Micro-“

“I can feel how fuckin’ wet you are, baby. You don’t really care about that, do you?” His hand hardly touches you, just skims over your leggings which are very clearly tainted with the evidence of how right he is. You fight under him as his hand grips your upper thigh. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

He pulls your pants down with zero hesitation, hands running wildly over your now exposed body. He has no aim, just lets his hands wander all over your curves, gripping your hips and settling on their place, sliding you further down the mattress and closer to him.

“He can’t hear us, i-okay?” Frank isn’t listening, thoughts lost in how he now has his fingers hooked under your panties, dragging them slowly down your legs. He smiles at how easily you caved in, lifting your legs so he can throw your underwear off. You lean up on your forearms and spread your legs on instinct.

“Christ, princess. So pretty, always so pretty.” He slides in between your legs, his bare torso connecting with your dripping pussy, making you whine into his mouth when he kisses you. “Can’t hear us, okay?”

Frank mocks as you struggle to contain your noises. He slides a hand between your bodies and without another second for you to catch your breath, his finger spreads you open and dives into you.

“Oh, fuck Frankie.” You try to whisper, and he moans at the nickname, grinding his hips down into the mattress. His finger works you slowly, a wave of pleasure making your whole body shudder. You pick your legs up and start to slide his pants down, secretly grateful he wore sweats. Easier to take off.

“So greedy. This why you were being such a pain in my ass? Huh?” You just nod, and the heel of his palm begins to rub against your clit while he adds another finger.

The sensation is too much, but you almost cry out when his free hand comes up around your throat. He was kneeling now to keep himself upright, fucking you with his hand so fast you were almost sure someone would be able to hear it.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it princess?”

“Yes, Frankie! Oh fuck s’good - t’s so good fuc-“ You are cut off when his hand wraps around your throat, only allowing about half of your normal breathing to break through his hold. Your eyes start to roll back in your head from pleasure, and you can feel your legs begin to shake in the angle Frank was bending you at.

“There’s a good girl. Taking what I give her.” You tried to swallow, and his hand only just shifted to allow it, and you nodded desperately. “Doesn’t matter who was around, you’d still take it wouldn’t you? If I asked all nice?”

“Whatever you w-want I swear-“ He kisses you, his tongue sliding into your mouth, and before you squeeze your eyes shut you can see how hard his face is screwed up, clearly holding back until you were ready for him. He lets you suck in a breath, and you use the chance to choke out a final plea. “Gonna cum, Frankie.”

“Good, baby. Go on then, don’t hold back. Wanna hear you scream.” The words have you almost panic - you don’t think you can control the sounds coming from you now, he had you to wired. You tried to turn your face into the pillow to muffle yourself, but one finger had enough strength to hold your face to his.

“Fra- can’t please, s’too l-loud.” Trying to whisper, but Franks smirk told you he didn’t give a shit.

“You’re fine, baby. Let me hear it.” His eyes are so wide, and looking up at you through his lashes. It’s the last thing you need to fall off that edge, and no pillow over your face would stop the borderline pornographic noises that echoed against the concrete walls. “Sound so perfect.”

Frank was holding you down as the orgasm wracked through your body, leaving you spinning. You could only tell what way was up when Frank started kissing you again, and you practically shot off the mattress when the head of his cock slid over your clit, coating him in the evidence.

“You good, princess?” His large hand began to unwrap from around your throat, and he kissed the faint lines his hand made as you whimpered in approval.

“Always.” Your eyes fluttered open and he hung over your face, kissing your nose, and then both your cheeks. Your hand ran down his chest, taking your time until you finally reached his aching cock, shifting underneath him so he could slide in easier.

“You sure? What about-“ It was you kissing him now to shut him up, and you just shook your head.

“Fuck him. Probably not even there.” You mumbled into his mouth and he laughed, bringing both of your hands up over your head, and holding them in one of his own.

“That’s my girl.” He moves up, and you can feel him pressing against you. He’s still holding your hands above your head, and you can do nothing but wait patiently. His free hand runs slow strokes over his cock, and he watched your reaction as he lets your hips roll against him, trying to control himself as well as make you work a little bit.

You were positive he was about to fuck you - fuck you like he did when you were in that motel for three weeks. Slow, hard, holding you down so you didn’t have to do anything but feel him, feel how good he makes you feel. He was so close, you could feel the very tip of him beginning to stretch you out, and you bit your lip in anticipation until -

“What the fuck is wrong with you people!?” Micro bangs in the door, and with how clearly you can hear him, you know he heard everything you and Frank just did. And said. Oh god- “If I come in there and I see Franks bare ass-“

“Don’t open that fuckin’ door.” Frank growls, his abs tensing from holding himself still. You wiggle your hips and his head snaps back to you, a look of slight confusion until he sees your face, screwed up and desperate. “You are gonna fuckin’ kill me, princess.”

“Put your fucking clothes on! That is my only mattress you fucking perverts!” Frank no longer cares about how close Micro is to coming in. He’s the only one with a key to the door. He could open it at any second -

Frank slowly slides into you, both of you trying to cover relived moans of each others names as he bottoms out, hitting the deepest part of you that nearly has tears coming from your eyes.

“Fuck off!” You yell, but it doesn’t come out as demanding as you want it to. Franks hand tightens around your wrists, and he sucks in a deep breath before beginning to pull out of you, so fucking slow.

“Jesus christ.” Micro mutters clearly through the thin walls. Frank hears the lock start to turn on the door, and even you are a little intimidated when he growls out a threat.

“I’m fuckin’ my girl here either way. You come in here and see something you shouldn’t, and you’re gonna lose your head.” He never looks away from you, sliding slowly, carefully back inside of you and stilling. The anger of his threat and the tone of his voice is no indication of how he’s fucking you, so gentle and sweet. He presses another kiss to your nose, and smirks when he hears the lock click back into place.

“Fine! I’m leaving. Not like I was saving your asses out here. Whatever, I’m taking your fucking car.” Micro is pissed - and he should be, you would if the two people you had spent hours trying to sort out were currently fucking on the only mattress you owned. But you didn’t fucking care - about anything but Frank and how he was slowly getting faster now that he had heard Micro leave.

“Fuck, faster baby, please.” You moan and he answers by doing exactly as you say, hitting you so hard you start to sink into the mattress.

“Want it faster? Make the whole building hear you?” You tried to speak but just whined out a jumble of words, nothing making sense in your head except for ‘please’ and ‘fuck’. “Yeah, that’s it. They can hear, but only I get to watch. No one else.”

“No one else, Frank.” He hums against your skin, and you don’t hold back letting him hear how fucking good it feels. You don’t know why you were holding yourself back from him before - fuck everyone else, nothing was worth missing out on this. This, being with him here even in this shitty little room with no TV and cracked walls. It didn’t matter as long as you were both safe.

“So fuckin’ tight. Always s-” He lost his words as you kissed him, both of you melting into the moment together. He stopped trying to hold himself up, relaxed his back and dropped half of his weight on you, the feeling of him against you sending you into overdrive.

He knew you were close, because you always squeezed your eyes shut tight and made these short, sweet sounds that he always told you he loved to hear. He kept the same pace, knowing as soon as you finished, watching you come undone underneath him would be his final straw.

“God, Frank I love you so much. M’gonna fucking cum, baby.” He dropped his forehead onto your shoulder, his hand coming up to wrap around your throat again. Fuck - he knew you so well.

“Sound so pretty, princess. Want you to come all over this fucking mattress. Feel so good, christ.” You scream his name as best you can, a strangled cry coming out as he tightens his hand around your throat. You come, the concrete roof fading into stars and spots as you lose oxygen. It makes everything feel urgent and intense, and Frank’s come is already beginning to seep out of you as you ride him through your high.

“Oh fuuu-ck.” He groans into your neck as he slowly starts to pull out of you. You aren’t ready for the loss of him, and he soothes you with sweet kisses along your jaw and cheek, wrapping you up into the poor excuse of a sheet and pulling you close. Your vision starts to come back to you, and you focus on the deep breaths of Frank behind you, the hot air on the back on your neck. You can imagine how he looks right now, and smile knowing you were the cause.

“I love you, princess.” He whispers into your ear, pressing a kiss just below.

“I love you more.” You can feel his smile against your skin.

“Mm.” He wraps you closer, and almost seems to fall asleep, his breathing evening out and his arms relaxing around you. It surprises you when he speaks again, and you have to tear your eyes open. “We have to buy a new mattress.”

“Fuck. We do. Maybe we should make dinner, too.” Frank doesn’t say anything, just huffs a breath and you laugh. “He’s gonna be so mad.”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. I’ll handle him.”

“We should probably put some clothes on.” As much as you love how you both are right now, Micro will probably be back any minute.

“I fuckin’ hate this. We- You shouldn’t have to-” You turn around in his hold to face him, and kiss him on the jaw.

“Shh. Soon, we’re gonna have our own place, our own bed, and we won’t have to wear clothes, like ever.” He shivers slightly and closes his eyes like he can picture it. “Soon, okay?”

“I know, I just hate that you gotta do all this shit, deal with him-”

“He is helping us. We will have all the time in the world when we get out of here. We just have to get out of here.” Frank kisses you, his hand coming up to hold your face. You love it when he kisses you like that, because his hand nearly takes up your whole face and you can completely disappear in his hold.

“How did this turn in to you calmin’ me down, huh?” He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Im just trying to soften you up so we can watch Love Island later.” He groans and his shoulders slump forward, rolling you off the mattress where you start getting dressed.

Eventually you tear yourselves out of the room to make dinner, and as pissed as Micro is when he comes back, the promise of a new mattress and incredible dinner Frank ended up cooking was enough to make it up to him. As you were going through to the kitchen, you looked back at the little slot in the wall where the door is, and you smiled. To think a few hours ago, you were begging to get out of that room - and now it was the closest thing to home you had.

You were pretty sure, though, looking at Frank spread out on the make shift couch trying to tune the TV so you could watch the newest episode of your shitty TV show, that you could make a home anywhere, as long as it was with him.

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