#colorful ugly blobs

[robbiedrawsstuff]

scared to post this on my main insta so all like three of you who actually see my tumblr posts get to see this banger

btw…. my commissions are open :3

[autisticlenaluthor]

Garden

After tutoring, Lena spends her afternoons in the empty backyard where nobody bothers her, pushing dirt around with a stick.

She draws faces, bumblebees, and butterflies, all in the spot that one day, is going to be a garden. And when that gets boring, which it does rather quickly, Lena begins to pace the strip of grass. She walks back and forth with her eyes fixated on the ground, using her stick like a cane.

Sometimes, she’ll look up over the top of the fence. There, Lena can vaguely see into the yard owned by the other half of the building. From the ground, there’s not much to look at except red metal bars and the four gray chains that hang off them.

Lena knows that together, they make a swing set. She can see the full thing from her bedroom window. It has two swings even though only one kid lives next door.

Lena isn’t sure if she’s supposed to know all this. But sometimes when she’s meant to be working on her flash-cards, she stares through the glass, at the blonde girl playing below.

She’ll see her hop off the swings and try to climb the metal poles like a monkey. There– she throws her head back and shakes out her hair before jumping down and landing on her hands and knees like a superhero. Other times, she hangs from the middle of the bar and swings back and forth. She knows how to hook her legs over the metal and dangle upside down with her arms swinging behind her.

A few times, she’s gotten stuck like that, and Lena’s watched her mom pull her down.

She replays the memory in her head as she turns the corner of her yard for what feels like the millionth time.

Dropping her stick, Lena releases a frustrated huff. She’s sure she’s been walking for hours by now. She has no idea when her new Dad will be home from work or if he’ll even want to talk to her when he is. Lex has already pushed her out of his room, and the nanny is inside cooking dinner– something French and gross sounding that Lena already knows she’s going to hate.

Turning her head, she lowers her brow and gives the wooden fence separating the yards a good hard stare. It’s made out of old wood with stains and mossy green stuff. On multiple occasions, she’s heard Lionel talking about hiring someone to tear it down to replace it because it’s just another eyesore in this ugly, old home.

Lena doesn’t think the house is ugly but it certainly is old. Maybe more than a thousand years. And the fence is probably even older. One of the boards has a hole in it, about a foot from the ground, exposing a glimpse of the flowers on the other side.

Curiosity piqued, Lena kicks her stick away and makes her way over to the fence. She squats down in the dirt and squints her eyes, then presses her hands into the wood. She tries to see as much as she can through the hole but the blobs of orange and red block her view.

She thinks for a minute, brow furrowed, before scooting away just far enough that she has room to stick her index finger through the hole. From there, Lena wiggles it around and wonders if she should call out to get someone's attention.

Back home– at her real home in the country, she wouldn’t have thought twice before yelling. She used to yell with her mom when they played in the garden all the time. Sometimes, her mom would even yell with her – just not in the scary way like other grown-ups do.

No, Lena’s real mom would call out pretend spells from their favorite fairy book while Lena shrieked with excitement, bouncing around and flapping her hands because what if a real fairy found them? She’d cackle with laughter when her belly got tickled after a bath, wrapped in a fluffy white towel made for someone five times her size, and jump through mud puddles in her favorite sparkly rain boots.

Her clothes were soft and always felt nice on her skin– all bright colors with different patterns and shapes. She used to wear her favorite shirt, the one with all the dinosaurs on it, almost every day. And when her mom let her pick her outfit, Lena would pair it with the pink tutu that made her feel like a ballerina, her fairy wings for when it was time to play in the garden, and, of course, her sparkly rain boots.

Here, things were different. Grown-ups were quiet and they didn’t play games. The yelling only happened at night and when it did, it was the kind that made her want to hide in the closet. The closet that was filled with itchy, boring clothes without dinosaurs or glitter.

As Lena looks back at the fence, she frowns. If she yells and Lex hears her, he’ll tell the nanny and she’ll get another consequence. So she continues to stare through the hole, zoning out as she wiggles her finger until she hears a:

“Hello?”

The voice is high-pitched and followed by a fierce giggle. Lena pictures the blonde girl from the swings on the other side and wonders how long she’s been there.

Without warning, a bright blue eye appears in the center of the hole.

Lena scrambles backwards and her own eyes grow wide. Her heart pounds, her mind rushing a mile a minute. She hadn’t thought this far ahead- she wasn’t prepared, she doesn’t know what to say!

This girl could be mean like Lex, she could be laughing at her. She could yell at her for poking her finger through the hole or worse, she could tell her mom who would tell their nanny who would tell Lillian who–

“Are you a spy?”

Lena swallows. She shakes her head and draws her legs in close. She should’ve just kept walking. The kids at her new school aren't as nice as at her old one and she isn’t sure she can handle another bully.

Silently, Lena watches as the other girl mimics her by poking her own finger through the hole, then giggles once more.

“Are you playing a game?”

Lena shakes her head. She pulls back even further and hugs herself as tight as she can.

“Well, do you want to play a game?”

“Um…” She isn’t sure why she says anything. She’d just wanted to get a look– maybe touch the air on the other side. But now the girl is talking and she isn’t being mean. She’s aggressive with her excitement, sure, but the scariness it ignites isn’t like the scariness Lena’s used to.

“What game?”

The girl goes silent for a second. She’s no longer holding her eye to the hole so all Lena can see is a flash of blonde hair and the blue on her shirt.

“I dunno,” she says. “Why were you poking your finger in here?”

Lena shrugs. She leans forward and rests her chin on her knee. The girl's voice is high and soft. It makes Lena think of caramel.

“Just, um… got bored.”

“Don’t you have any toys?”

Lena shakes her head.

“I can’t see you, silly!” The girl exclaims. “You gotta talk!”

“Just… um… chess,” Lena says. “But I had-a play it a lot.”

“Ummmm, well, I could play a game with you,” the girl says. “And we can be friends! My name’s Kara and I’m five and three-quarters! What’s your name?”

“Lena.” Lena removes her arms from around herself and puts them on either side of herself, her heart rate finally starting to even out. “‘m five.”

“Hi, Lena,” Kara responds, smiling bright like the sun. “Your voice is funny. I like it.”

“Oh… that’s ‘cause I’m from Ireland.”

“Where’s I-ruh-land?”

“Far.”

Lena leans forward and tries to look through the hole again. She hugs herself tightly as she moves, her fingers moving up and down her torso the way her mom’s used to.

“I flew a plane,” she says. “But… um… I was only four. A long time ago.”

“Was it scary?”

“Yeah… but…” Lena looks down, knitting her brow with thought. “I was small. And now I’m kinda scared of planes but, ‘cause I’m a lot bigger, it’s not as much. But… so… when I get really big, like, when I’m ten, I wouldn’t be scared at all. ‘Cause I’d be big.”

Kara hums and nods knowingly.

“I’m scared of volcanoes,” she says.

“There’s no volcanoes in Top-o-lis.”

“Yeah, that’s what my mommy says.”

“But… then why are you scared?”

“I dunno.” Kara laughs. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Um… green?”

“Mine’s blue. Did you know I can do a cartwheel?”

Lena furrows her brow. “How would I know that?”

“‘Cause I see you watching me in your window,” Kara says matter-of-factly. “I tried to watch you too but all you do is walk in circles with a stick.”

“Yeah! ‘Cause I already told you, I don’t have any toys!” Lena frustratedly retorts, any remnants of her anxiety having been forgotten. “Don’t you pay attention?”

“Well, then, why don’t you just come to my house?” Kara asks. “We could go on the swings and I have lots of toys and a dollhouse we could play with.”

Lena’s about to answer when a door creaks open loudly behind them. It’s followed by the sound of Kara quietly groaning and mumbling something unintelligible to herself.

“Kara, love, come on, it’s time for dinner,” a voice calls out. It’s an older woman– her mom, Lena figures.

“No!” Kara cries. “I’m talking to the girl in the other house– just gimmie five minutes and I’ll come inside!”

Her voice is shrill and high– it makes Lena want to cover her ears.

Somehow, she resists the urge and instead, pulls her knees back into her chest. She considers leaning over to tell Kara through the hole not to talk back because, maybe she doesn’t know yet, but if you’re disrespectful, you get consequences. You have to listen so the yelling doesn’t start.

But if the woman notices Lena whispering she might get mad at her too. She’ll tell Lillian that Lena was being distracting and Lillian will get mad again.

“Kara–”

“Please!” Kara begs, the word long and drawn out. “Pleasepleaseplease just five minutes?”

“Honey, I already gave you five minutes,” the older woman responds. “It’s time to come in now before your food gets cold, okay? I made mac-and-cheese like you wanted.”

She says the last bit in a sing-songy voice like the one Lena’s pre-k teacher would use when she called the class over for circle time. She isn’t loud or angry, she's just… she’s nice.

“But Mommy, I was just asking if Lena can come over, maybe, this weekend or a different day like– like on my birthday or after school so we can go on the swings and play in my room.”

There’s a moment of silence before Kara’s mom sighs.

“Okay, you can ask Lena and then it’s time to come inside. You understand?” She asks.

Kara nods eagerly and scrambles back to the fence, pushing her face right up against the hole.

“Lena!” She exclaims. “Do you wanna come to my house on a different day for a playdate?”

Lena doesn’t say anything. She’s too focused on Kara’s mom and the sound of her voice. How soft it was, like it’s never been raised before– not even a single time. How even when Kara whines, she doesn’t change. She stays kind and soft, like the kind of mother who means it when they say I love you.

Lena hugs herself tighter as her mind begins to wander.

She wants mac-and-cheese too, not gross French food from her nanny. She wants the orange kind that comes out of the box that her mom used to make, sometimes three days a week. She wants to eat it on the couch with the TV on, watching cartoons after a long day of running through puddles and reading books about dinosaurs and the ocean. She wants her mom to talk to her in the soft voice that Kara’s mom uses; so quiet and gentle, without an ounce of anger to be found.

Lena’s face feels hot as she thinks about it, her eyes welling up with tears. She can still see the old house in the back of her mind– the grassy overgrown lawn and her little playhouse in the back. Her sparkly rain boots and closet with clothes that don’t itch– clothes she actually liked, that her mom would help her pick out.

Why does Kara get to have it and not her?

“Lena?”

Lena’s lips pull down into a frown. Her chin quivers and quakes– eyes stinging like they’re on fire.

She wants to run right back to her mom.

Sometimes she still thinks maybe when she comes downstairs– she’ll be there in the kitchen making breakfast. She’ll have tracked down the new house after months of searching and when Lena runs to her, she’ll pick her up and hold her so tightly– tighter than she’s ever been held before– then tell her it’s time to go home.

The hole in Lena’s heart will get stitched back up. Her aches and pains won’t be gone but she’ll be able to live with them because finally, they will have been tended to. She’ll be scarred and stapled, sure, but at least she’ll have been pieced back together.

Lena does all she can do to keep from crying in front of her new friend but the effort isn’t enough. The tears are falling– hot and furious. They make her want to scream because it isn’t fair. None of it is fair and gosh, she just wants to go home.

Determined not to let Kara see her, Lena scrambles to her feet and brushes the dirt off her thighs. As Kara calls her name again, Lena sprints right back to her house.

[technically-a-kiwi]

I'm so sick of this, IT'S SHIT 😭😭😭

SERIOUSLY, WHY CAN'T I DO IT ?!WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT UGLY ASS PALETTE, IT LOOKS LIKE A BLOODY COTON BALL, I HATE IT, IT'S NOT THAT HARD, AAAAAAAAAAH 😡😵‍💫😡😵‍💫😡😵‍💫

Sigh, okay I calmed down... Thank you to all people who gave suggestions and ideas... I'll take a break from this pile of flesh... It's driving me NUTS 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫.

If you have better suggestions for colors or design please share them... I'm all ears. I think you'll be better at it... I'm not as much as a fake pep fan than some of you... You know more than me...

Here's the original sketch

Every scar/opened wound is a mouth. His bird like wings aren't actually made out of feathers, it's just a huge blob that's meant to be shaped like a wing. Those weird wings that aren't bird like are meant to look like insect wings (kind of like a dragon fly). He's meant to be a weird pile of flesh, he doesn't glow, he somehow managed to break the laws of physics and fly. I'll expand on his story when I'll finalize the design.

He's not friendly at all, REALLY not at all... everything in him is nightmare fuel (I'm sure I'm gonna have nightmares about designing him 😵‍💫) he casually turn people into tomato paste and absorbe them so he can look more angel like (don't ask me how it works), he's kind of a sadist, and he destroy pizzas for fun. I let you guess if he has beef with angel pep.

Dear god... I spent all day on this... I want to go to bed 😭

[bluetheanimator]

Heyo, I heared you were asking for some Yellow designs, i humbly come to thee offering my uglyass sketches of Him (+ itty-bitty, little Wally).

(Also, please ignore the ugly black blob under his eye. Color, you wish, is totally up to you.)

SUCH A COOL DESIGN,,,, EATING IT

[candywife333]

King Squishy

Disclaimer/Triggers: Fic is in no way representative of Yoongi's personality or thoughts in real life. Crude language.

Note: Completed part 1 guys. Hope you like it!!! Not edited as usual (btw, when I say not edited- I mean I haven't edited it perfectly. I still edit to some degree as I write, but due to wanting to churn out the volume of fics I want to get out there, with my time constraints --I tend to not officially sit down and edit every piece extensively ). I plan to have one more part to finish the story.

[PART 1]

She stared at the screen, squinting her eyes, completely tired from the strain of focusing on the screen in front of her. King Squishy, his ugly blob Majesty, trudged over to her. She had been recruited by the planet, Xalaxia, to manage their secretarial works requiring communications with earth. Since she knew the Xalaxian dialect and English with fluency, she had been the perfect gal for the job.

Y/N wouldn't have minded working on the lush green planet with pink golden sunsets, if not for her treacherously annoying and strict boss. The king of the planet himself. King Yoongi. Or as she liked to refer to him as, the bane of her existence. He would always harp on her to finish the work quickly even when she was ahead of schedule. And he would unscrupulously watch over her every move ,as though she were committing a crime by working diligently on behalf of his stale, rank pumpernickel ass.

He wasn't fluent in English, so he relied on her a lot for even diplomatic efforts of his planet. Here he came, entering the room with an infuriated face, waddling his squishy amber, amorphous ass resembling jelly like a duck. All the people on this planet had two forms, one that resembled something more similar to humans--average heights reaching up to 6 feet and up. The other form most of them carried was that of a a normal human face on top of what could not be described in any other words other than a goopy blob that would shapeshift to form humongous tentacles. The black appendages would sometimes drip inky obsidian fluids as they walked, leaving what Y/N called , a "xalaxian trail".

Y/N tiredly drawled out as she typed a document without moving her eyes off the screen, "What service would you like to procure from me today your Majesty"?

Yoongi snarled as he threw a bunch of papers onto her desk, "Is this what you call a complete financial report of the trade embargo we have between Earth? It has a bunch of typos, even I would be able to tell!!!! Why are you so incompetent, you lazy woman"?

I bristled, alive with fury as I attempted to calm down, staring at the document he threw at me. I felt like laughing when I figured out what his problem was. "Ummm, Sir, you do know that these type of letters require more official language ,right? The spellings are all correct. Whatever you have marked in red ink is just the past tense of regular English verbs. We don't say ever say the word "thinked", we say "thought", to express past tense".

His entire face blanched as he started sputtering in a fury, "F-f-fix it then, you human imbecile"!

And he immediately scurried away, his prominent trail viscously dripping after him. I had to not choke on my own laughter, as I stared at a human blob try to run away from me. His magestically goopy form, was trying to get away, but the massive size of his tush was not letting him, making him look like he was twerking and wiggling his butt as he tried to abscond.

Xalaxians did not wear robes or any clothing for that matter in their blob-like forms, they only wore them when they were humanoid in shape.

Y/N sighed, the days on Xalaxia were becoming monotonous, as she felt encumbered with all the excess transmissions to be translated. She was leaving late nowadays from her work station, dropping down on her bed exhausted, instantaneously falling asleep. It had been exciting in the beginning, with all the cuisines, colorful people, and beautiful outdoor environment. But with the way she had been transferred from working with the kind council member Taehyung to becoming the king's secretary, it had been a less than pleasant transition, putting it very lightly.

She pondered with her hands holding up her chin, maybe she should apply for the yearly mating banquet. Humans were allowed to participate. It was quite simply put, a banquet where people found mates (permanent mates, not casual ones). Y/N had not participated in the last two years she had been on Xalaxia. But even she was feeling a bit lonely from time to time. Maybe a mate would help curb that. She wasn't getting any younger.

Xalaxians mated for life, and since their life span of 1000 years instantaneously conferred upon their partner once a mating bond was formed, it was a very big deal who your partner was. Y/N dreamily imagined finding a kind Xalaxian who would treat her right and give her children, something she had always wanted. They would live in a gorgeous garden estate and relax, sharing a marriage bed. She felt like blushing at the mere thought.

She typed up and submitted the application form on her bed. A tinkling sound came from her lap top indicating that the form had been submitted. Before Y/N could even process the happiness and possibility that would come of starting the search for a mate, she got a phone call.

As she picked up the call from an unknown number, she heard a screeching voice, "HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME??? HOW COULD YOU SUBMIT A MATE FORM WITHOUT MY PERMISSION, WHEN YOU ARE MY SECRETARY? I FORBID YOU Y/N, I FORBID YOU FROM LOOKING FOR A MATE"!

Y/N's indignance peaked, who the hell did this king think he was? Forbidding her from finding a mate, something that was mandated by law as a privilege allowed to every resident of Xalaxia. Y/n calmly replied, "And I fail to see how that is my problem, you rank ass goop ball. Don't test me, sire. If you infringe upon my rights, I shall merely quit the job. What exactly is your problem anyway"?

He yodeled back, exasperated, "YOU. YOU. It's always fucking YOU". Y/N felt so irritated and frustrated at his vague proclamations. "And what do you even mean by that, Sire"?

He sobbed , clearly inebriated from drinking, as he would never show such expressions of emotion otherwise. "You wouldn't work for me anymore, if you found a mate".

Y/N sniped back, rather confused at his intent, "And how is that supposed to be my concern"?

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

Y/N didn't understand his bloody problem. Always scolding her for no goddamn reason. His rotund, lardaceous, jiggly ass needed a reality check and quick.

The Royal Banquet Hall of Xalaxia was teeming with otherworldly flora in myriad shapes and sizes-bulbous fluorescent fuchsia tendrils winding across the delicate crystalline roof of the massive glass greenhouse where the banquet was taking place. The hall pulsed with an iridescent lacquer which changed hue every few minutes.

Floating orbs containing singular candles were suspended in clusters in the air casting flickering shadows of lavender and gold. At the far end of the massive hall, seated amidst a sea of other ministers was King young --shrouded in a fine fabric shimmering purple and gold, in his humanoid form for once. It was so he could negotiate with all the alien dignitaries who had come from various foreign planets. So they wouldn't be confused or intimidated by his voluptuous cakes. A clear hazard that came with the job.

He sat on his ever glowing fungal, slimy throne with a rigidity-- reminiscent of a street lamp. His posture screamed : I am pretending to not lose my shit at any given moment. Something Y/N was well accustomed to seeing.

And see she did.

She swept through the entrance of the hall, dressed in a frothy, whimsical pink fabric that shimmered- mimicking the luster of a nebula. The dress was woven with Xalaxian silk, infusing the dress with a mauve gradient at the hem of the gown--printed with gold inscriptions traditional to the tribal regions of the planet. Her attire hugged her perfectly, allowing her to glide into the room --leaving a deluge of scintillating particles in her wake.

Her lips were painted a brilliant berry color - mimicking drippleberries (plants native to the planet) and her hair was braided with the violet xalaa flowers that bloomed once in a year, on the night of the full moon on Xalaxia. They were rare flowers that bloomed and died , depending on the life form they came in contact with. The fact that they trusted Y/N enough to adorn her hair, sent out a clear message.

All in all, she was stunning and the current center of attention as other foreign dignitaries flocked towards her to get a glimpse. Her generous bosom spilled into the deep neck of the gown showed off her shimmering skin. She looked as though she had bathed herself in drippleberry juice--a concoction known for hydration which made the skin visibly glisten with a dewy confidence.

She was being swarmed , alien males with too many appendages , men with spiked tails trailing behind them. Males even goopier and uglier than Yoongi as well. A fog of pheromones flooding the atmosphere as countless people tried to catch her attention, make conversation with her, and even dare to lure her close enough---just enough to get a taste perhaps.

All things that enraged Young as he tried to maintain a smidgeon of his regal composure.

She walked into the hall like she owned it, like a rare precious treasure that was ready to be stolen by hungry eyes and hands. Hands that King Yoongi wouldn't let even remain in the same vicinity. He glared indignantly at all the happenings.

"Are you ok , your Highness"? A council member hesitantly uttered.

"I'm fine Phillips", Yoongi muttered. "Just internally combusting, nothing new".

As belligerent as he was , at all these aliens staring at his Y/N, he couldn't stop staring at her beauty .Her grace, her. He couldn't look away. He couldn't even think of anything other than her.

His inner conscience was rattling at him.

Her tits are glistening. Why are they so shiny? Control yourself, Yoongi. This is a political diplomatic event. You are a monarch, a leader, respected ....atleast till yesterday you were.

He slapped himself on the cheeks.

Get it together.

She turned, smiling at someone. And Yoongi almost growled in exasperation.

Nope. He thought he could handle it and he couldn't. I'm going to start an intergalactic war with the way this is going. She's mine. And I'm damn well keeping her. Someone control me before I convert to my blob form. I'M ABOUT TO SLITHER.

He was frothing at the mouth, about to snatch up and stab a prehensile tentacled bastard.

And he thought, things couldn't get worse right?

Well, they just fucking did.

Yoongi's globular eyes twitched with contempt as he saw the suave , tall, striking prominent emissary, Sir Kaelith of the Andorre Nebula talk and interact with his Y/N. The guy walked like he was floating.

Yoongi gritted his stubby little teeth, even damaging his gums in the process. He was about to draw blood. The dude's devastating bone structure and angular jaw line that could cut through Xalaxian steel intimidated Yoongi. What if she ran away with this smooth talking , assless bastard. What was Yoongi to do? Smile as the woman of his dreams married and had kids with this fool?

His eyes were glued to the two of them. The guy who wasn't him extended his hand to Y/N. And that is when Yoongi could literally feel the fumes pour out his ears, he was about to see red.

Y/N looked up at this guy sweetly , stepping into the alien emissary's arms as he fluidly ushered her into a lively dance , twirling her as he encircled her waist with his strong arms.

Across the room , Yoongi was shattering. His eyebrows twitched maniacally, his form started flickering , the flute of a wine glass he was tightly gripping cracked. If he didn't do something now , he would fly into a gelatinous rage.

And we all know that King Yoongi in his goopy form, could not be controlled. His chief secretary paled at the thought. The king had no point of return once he flew off the handle. Unhinged was one way to describe the king in his fury. Insane, mad, savage may be other accurate descriptors as well.

The cherry on top of the messed up sundae was when Y/N hugged the ambassador.

That's when King Yoongi's chief secretary pressed the red button on his wrist watch.

Well, at least they could say they tried to control the situation that was about to transpire.

[xkaidaxxxx]

Shoto x Reader

Mentions: Characters are aged up! Body image, Plus size reader, Drinking, NSFW, Virgin reader, cute aftercare, fluff morning,

No proof read sorry for errors

MDNI

Reblogs are appreciated.

“ You should totally go on a date with him. He sounds very nice. I’ll be there at a distance just in case you don’t want to be there anymore or something goes wrong okay.” Mina said and Momo agreed. Girls gotta help each other.

Shoto’s name on the online dating: Senju 

Senju: We can meet up at weston. 

(weston is a fancy restaurant) 

You made very good money but you weren’t stupid rich

y/n: oh um Isn’t that too much? I’m a simple girl. Plus I don’t have that type of luxury.

Senju : You doll up and I’ll pick you up okay. Is 8pm good? 

Y/n: I’ll meet you there and yes that's perfect.

Senju: Okay see you there then. I’ll be waiting. I’ll be wearing black tux with a white and red brooch.

y/n: I’ll wear a red dress then! See you later.

You were so nervous and scared. You hadn’t shown him a picture of yourself. You’re a plus size woman. That was something you’re so insecure about which is why you didn’t date at all. Even in highschool. You did have crushes here and there but when you confess to them they’d instantly reject you, not even in a feel sorry for you way. They were rude. 

————————————————————————

They’d say things like:

“Hell no you look like a blob”

“ You’re a piggy and I don’t date such an ugly thing”

“Maybe in your next life you’ll be pretty”

“ lose a few pounds and even then maybe not.”

———————————————————————-

“ Come on let’s get you ready! You’ll look like a princess once you’re done dressing up.” Momo said. 

You wore a simple but classy red dress Momo created for you. It was short, had a slit to teasy a bit with one strap. Your make up was simple as well. Overall you looked Amazing! The girls dropped you off. You noticed a tall,handsome man with the white and red brooch that matches his hair color. You walked up to him nervously. “S-Senju or should I say Shoto ” you said. He looked down at you shocked. It wasn't that he didn’t like what he was seeing, if anything he was trying to control himself from devouring you. “ Y/n?” he replied smiling. “ Yes. It’s nice to finally meet up with you.” you said. “I lied about my name because…being one of the greatest heroes causes relationship issues.” he said walking inside with you. You were nervous about how dinner would go. “Reservation for Todoroki.” he spoke to the host. The host checked his table. “Yes sir, right this way.” you both followed the host. You were confused on why you were lead to a room with Shoto. “ The waiter will be right with you.” the host said and left, closing the door behind him. It was so beautiful. A private room. Every single detail screamed romantic and sweet. “ Is it to your liking?” Shoto asked as you sat down and he helped you tuck in your chair. “ It’s beautiful. Thank you. You’re very kind.” you replied. He sat down and started looking at the menu and so you did the same. About 20 minutes later the waiter shows up taking out his pad. “ We’ll have Cheesy Potato Croquettes as appetizers. I’ll have Lemony Salmon with potatoes and tensoba. Cold please.” Shoto said then looked over to you. “ I’ll have a lobster risotto,” you said. “ Drinks?” the waiter asked. “ Armand de Brignac Ace of Spades Demi-Sec and 1999 Andre Beaufort a Ambonnay Grand Cru Doux Rose” , Shoto said. You trusted him. He knows his champagne. After an hour you were having an amazing meal. You loved the taste of the champagnes and couldn’t get enough and so while you ate the more champagne you craved. Shoto was concerned about how much you drank. “Uh you should take it easy. It might not taste strong but it sure is.” he said. “ S’fine I’m not a lightweight. I swear.” you replied. Biggest lie. You guys had to leave through the back and since you were too drunk to speak correctly he had no other choice than to bring you to his house to spend the night.

You were at his house by 12am. 

Being drunk makes you tell the truth on how you enjoyed the night and how sexy Shoto looks. 

“ Did I..tell..handsome sexy so much.” you said and hiccuped. He chuckled and opened the door while holding you. “No ma’am you haven’t told me that.” he replied walking in with you. You were getting touchy. Playing with his hair and leaving a peck on his cheek. He set you down. “ Careful now, okay.” he said, locking the door. You looked around walking wobbly. As you were about to fall he caught you. He was tired of holding back and so he kissed you. You let yourself go and allowed him to have all of you. You are a virgin but you thought fuck it why not? He carried you upstairs to his room . The moment was so heated you guys quickly took your clothing off, so desperate for each other. 

“ You’re so cute my baby.” Shoto said, tossing you on the bed.“ Let me claim you.” he whispered in your ear. “ Yes please.” you replied. He reached down to your pussy and played with your clit. You moaned softly. He felt all your wetness dripping onto the bed, spreading your legs further as he pressed a kiss on your pussy. Your cheeks turned red. Eating you out was heaven for him. He hummed as he sucked and slurped so sloppy.. You grinded yourself against his mouth. “Nasty girl. You’re so needy.” he slapped your pretty cunt which made you jump and close your legs. “ Obey me.” he ordered, spreading your legs. Your cunny was aching thinking about the need of being stuffed by him. “P-please. I need you inside of me.” you said with glossy eyes. Your pussy clenched around nothing. He smirked, liking the power he has over you. “ m’kay baby.” he replied, running his tip teasingly at your folds. You whimpered as he finally stuffed your tight cunny making you wince in pain. He groaned. “F-fuck.” you sniffled.  He noticed how very sensitive you are.. There were tears slipping from your eyes. He eventually figured you’re a virgin and he didn’t want your first to be after a 1st date. “ I can't.. I won’t allow this to be your 1st time. It isn’t special.” he said. You nodded. “It hurts.” you cried. You never imagined it being painful then again every woman's  body is different. Even after foreplay some women still aren't relaxed enough to be penetrated. He pulled out carefully. You gripped his arm. “I’m sorry. You must be upset to not receive anything” you spoke as you noticed he was staring. He left and came back with a warm wet cloth. He cleaned you up thoroughly and carefully. You did bleed a bit. “Thank you Shoto.” you spoke. He nodded and tossed the cloth in the trash can. It was definitely a night to remember. You slept comfortably cuddling with him. It felt so natural. The following morning was shocking as you woke up in his arms remembering the event of last night. “Morning y/n. I hope you slept well princess.” he said, giving you a soft kiss. You decided to let fate take over. You smiled feeling happy,“Morning Shoto. I did sleep well." you replied. He couldn't help but carry you and head to the bathroom. You giggled. He was very strong so to him you felt like a feather. "Put me down sho." He refused to obey you. "No ma'am." you pulled his hair lightly. He set you on the counter as he got the bath ready. " Ready for a warm bath?" He asked winking at you, you understood he'd be washing you. You were insecure..no man has ever seen your body, let alone worshiped it. Shoto watched you as you let the warm water surround your body. "You're very beautiful." he commented. You blushed as he started scrubbing your back. " Just so you know. You're mine. Forever." he said kissing you. Your body was trembling with happiness. "Forever." you replied. His heart was beating at a fast pace. He knew that its you he wants to date, to get married someday and have children if you wanted. He wants to raise them and watch them grow into wonderful strong people as you two grow old. He wants forever with you. He kissed you again leaning in closer. He slipped inside the tub. He was drenched as well. Thank goodness this man is stupid rich otherwise there would be water all over the ground. You both laughed, bubbles on your cheeks and foreheads. You began to wash each other up. It was relaxing and intimate.

[lavenderbucket]

Okay, I have a really troubling problem.

I've been trying to find threads discussing this but the more I read the more confused I get. This is an OC for use in CRK X Reader.

Yes, I know it's look like an OC and so it should be on a CRK X OC tag, but the point is... I did not create her to be an OC!

Hear me out, this character was created to serve the purpose of representing the readers. If I was going to create an OC, I would not make it have anything to do with the fandom (I have a bad past with the OC I created in Undertale, and you know who I would pair her with. I still feel regretful to this day.) A character I count as an OC must come from an original world that I HAVE created myself.

This character has a name, appearance, age, and personality, but it was created for the readers, for YOU, not ME. Even though she has a name, I ended up going with (Y/N) anyway. However, considering what other people said, Reader-insert must have the least characteristics, I'm wondering if I should call her an OC or a Reader. Help me choose!

P.S. I like to draw Reader as an OC, not a gray or white blob because it feels more familiar (whenever I try to draw a gray Reader, I always think it comes out weird and ugly). 2. Like a girl who likes to play dress-up games, I like to decorate the Reader to be colorful and lively. 3. I feel stuck when reading fanfics that often have abbreviations (F/C, E/C, S/C, Etc.). If it's (Y/N), it's still smooth to read, but when I see a lot of abbreviations, it feels jarring. That's why I usually create characters but leave only the name blank.

[malenjoyer]

may i ask how you do the black comic-like shading? i've been trying to do it for myself and i can never get it down (+ your art is awessssome)

I’m not the best teacher but I’ll try to break it down.

The basics:

Comic-like shading from what I started picking up is the mixture of understanding light, shadows, and folds.

Once you’re comfortable with hatching and able to identify shadows, that’s where the next part comes in.

Instead of a vague blob of approximation of light and shadow, try to match the areas of the shadows from the photograph to your drawing using your eyes. You can do more detailed than this if you want to

Then you can do a lot of simplifying, since in comics, most people aren’t doing full render. If you know how the shadow works in folds, you can start simplifying the approximate areas where you should be shading.. sort of like this?

A lot of the comic shading you see in art is just people understanding light/shadow and going: how do I make this less annoying for myself?

Once you start practicing, you might find drawing every single detail incredibly annoying. Find an artist with a similar style to yours and see how they shade, or another artist who’s shading you like and see if you can apply it to your own style.

Another example:

Light = green

Shadow = Red

Try using in black and white to shade extreme highlights and shadows with no colors.

Try drawing people in leather with strong light in the references, it’ll force your brain to think of a way to make it look good. At first, you might not understand how to transfer it but over time you will be able to so don’t give up if you think it looks ugly :p

A lot of people draw things that look unsatisfactory & then just don’t post it

Also, I think a simpler shading style might be better for your art since yours relies a lot on color. There’s also beauty in simplicity like chris samnee.

If you have a specific drawing you’d like me to explain why I shaded the way I did, let me know!

[jisungsdaydreamer]

Dress

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» · «TAGLIST»

SYNOPSIS When Minho buys a really ugly dress for you, but you don't want to hurt his feelings.

Pairing: Lee Know x fem!reader Genre: established relationship, fluff Warnings: none :) Word Count: 1.4k

P.S. ♡ If you like my work, please consider giving me feedback in the form of reblogs, comments, and asks! ♡

“Honey, I got you a surprise!”

You immediately toss aside the book you were reading and practically leap off the couch at the sound of Minho’s voice. You love surprises. Your husband enters the room with a tired look on his face, but nevertheless, he smiles lovingly at you, holding out a cute beige-colored shopping bag to you.

“I stopped by the store after work,” Minho explains, sitting down next to you as he loosens his tie.

You pause while pulling out the sparkly tissue paper at the top of the bag, touched. You know how busy Minho is these days, and the fact that he took time out of his day to get you something made you melt. “Aw, Min. You’re so sweet.”

The tips of Minho’s ears turn pink, like they always did whenever you praise him. “Look inside the bag!”

You tear through the wrapping paper, your fingertips meeting something soft. Intrigued, you pull the mystery item out excitedly, only to realize that it is the absolutely ugliest dress that you have ever set eyes on. For a moment, you just stare at it, surprised in the worst possible way.

“So? What do you think?” 

Minho’s eager voice snaps you out of your mini reverie. You gulp, racking your head for something to say. “Oh! Urm…”

His face falls. “Do you not like it?”

You shake your head vigorously. “No! I’m just so… amazed! You normally never buy clothes for me.”

Minho grins. “I know. But hey, maybe there can be two fashionistas in the family now.”

“Yeah, definitely!” You swallow, hoping he doesn’t see right through you.

Satisfied, he tilts his head towards your bedroom. “You should try it on!”

Defeated, you turn and trudge to your bedroom. Once you’re inside, you quickly pull off your favorite pajamas and change into the dress. Minho enters the room as you step into the mirror, and you truly have to clench your jaw to keep the horrified gasp that nearly escapes you.

The dress is an insult to fashion, if you’re being honest. The geometric pattern sporting an unflattering shade of orange makes you feel like a pumpkin. It looks like a shapeless blob on you, the swaths of fabric pooling unflatteringly at your waist. The knitted design is scratchy on your skin, making it incredibly uncomfortable. And to make everything worse, you catch the number on the price tag, and you want to faint.

Clearing your throat, you glance to your side over at Minho, who gazes wordlessly into the mirror at your reflection. “How do I look?”

He shakes his head softly, genuinely awestruck. “Beautiful. Just beautiful.”

You have an idea or two of what you really think you look like, but you plaster on a fake smile, hoping you’re selling it. “You’re the best husband ever.”

“I saw it in the store, and thought it would look so pretty on you.” Minho beams proudly, and he looks so innocent that you feel your heart break a little in guilt.

“Minho, baby.” You place a hand on his shoulder. “You really didn’t have to.”

He pouts. “But Changbin is hosting dinner tomorrow, and I wanted you to have something nice to wear.”

So what other option do you have than to thank him and give him a little kiss? You would wear that god-awful dress to Chanbin’s party for everyone to see, rather than hurt Minho’s feelings, right? Definitely.

“Y/N, Minho! Come on in!” Changbin opens the door, welcoming you into his home.

You don’t miss his expression of shock as he lets you in, but ever the gracious host, Changbin smoothly covers it up with a smile and hugs you both. As you and Minho walk into the living room, where all of the guests are mingling over cocktails. You get similar looks from the others, but you glance over at Minho worriedly, hoping he doesn’t notice. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to, joining in on the conversation and laughing at someone’s joke.

You inhale and let yourself relax, searching the crowd for Hyunjin and Jisung, your two good friends. You spy Jisung loitering by the dessert table, discreetly piling brownies into napkins and tucking them into his pockets for later.

“Sneaking extra brownies, are we?” You creep up behind him, making him yelp and nearly drop his brownie. 

“Seriously—” Jisung looks over at you, prepared to shoot a comeback at you when he halts. “What in the world are you wearing?”

You roll your eyes. “A dress, okay? Minho got it for me.”

“Oh.” 

“Is there something you want to say, Jisung?”

He stuffs the brownie into his mouth to obviously conceal his laughter, but you don’t miss the faint smirk on his face. “Nothing.”

You give up. “Where’s Hyunjin?”

“Late, as usual.” Jisung swallows his brownie before eyeing the mini pizza bagels at the end of the table. “I’ll be right back.”

You turn and look for Minho, finding him chatting with Seungmin. Seungmin finishes refilling his wine glass and exits the kitchen, and Minho takes the chance to slip his arms around your waist, pulling you close.

“Enjoying the party?” He asks, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

You nod, taking a sip of Minho’s drink. “Mhm.”

Minho looks down at you. “I’ll bet you’re getting a lot of compliments on your dress.”

“So many.” You flick an imaginary piece of lint off of said dress. You hate lying to him. 

Minho frowns, noticing how you’re avoiding his eyes, and opens his mouth to say something, but before he can, Hyunjin waltzes in, two hours after the party began.

You take the opportunity to change the subject. “Fashionably late, Hyunjin?”

“Yes, but I can’t say the same for you, Y/N.” Hyunjin bursts into laughter. “Where did you get that dress? It’s actually hideous.”

Usually, you wouldn’t mind such a comment coming from Hyunjin, because this kind of teasing banter was a normal exchange between you both. However, this time, Minho is the one who is responsible for your outfit.

And from the way the smile fades from Minho’s face, he is also listening. “What?”

You glare at Hyunjin. “No, it’s not.”

Hyunjin snickers, still not getting the hint. “You know damn well—”

“Y/N said she loved it.” Minho steps in, looking equal parts confused and upset. “I bought it for her yesterday.”

Hyunjin shuts up at last, finally realizing why you are shooting daggers at him with your eyes. “Ohhh. I was just kidding, Minho. Please don’t murder me.”

With that, Hyunjin quickly bolts out of the kitchen, leaving you and Minho alone. You peek over at Minho, only to see him sadly looking down at the floor. 

“Min…”

“I knew you hated it.” Minho puts his glass in the sink and walks out. With a frustrated groan, you follow after him, only to catch him in a very deep one-way conversation with Jisung, who just chews on his food while watching Minho rapidly ramble about cars. You understand that Minho is mortified and doesn’t want to talk to you, so you go back to Hyunjin, who has wandered into Changbin’s home gym and is messing with the weights. 

For the rest of the evening, there’s this tension you can’t name between you and Minho, and you both don’t exchange any words. When it’s time to leave, you both say goodbye to everyone before getting into your car. For a few minutes, there’s an awkward silence as Minho drives and stares straight ahead, not looking at you even once. Once you arrive at home, Minho parks, and you prepare to get down out of the car, but Minho speaks up. 

“I wish you just told me that you didn’t like the dress. Then I wouldn’t have been so embarrassed,” Minho says softly.

You sigh. “I just didn’t want to hurt your feelings, and you were so excited.”

“You should have been honest.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” 

Minho stays quiet for a moment, and you think he’s still disappointed, but then he looks over at you, a small grin on his face. “I’m sorry too. When you opened it I realized it really was so ugly, but I was too stubborn to admit it.”

You chuckle, relieved. “Maybe leave clothes shopping to me. You’re good at so many other things.”

“I agree. I can’t be too perfect, after all.” Minho winks at you playfully.

With an amused smile, you lean over and kiss your husband. His fashion sense may not be incredible, but you love him just the way he is.

«GENERAL M.LIST» · «NAVIGATION» · «TALK TO ME» · «TAGLIST»

TAGLIST @hamburgers101 @chansburgah @ajxreads @hash2013 @pixigreen @ana-marais98 @ohish @chizumiyoshi @lilydaisyyy @jetblackbelle @143hyunes

Network: @kflixnet

©jisungsdaydreamer 2023 | All rights reserved. I do not condone translations or transfers of my work onto other platforms such as Wattpad, AO3, etc. Tumblr is my only platform. Acts of plagiarism are strictly prohibited.

[livemedown]

1. HOW DO PEOPLE DO THIS. LIKE I KNOW WHO MADE IT. IM JUST IN AWE. TERRY IS SO BEAUTIFUL. Wonderful ugly beast enjoys final meal. I'm telling you, I need to start drawing Terry again.... But he's an awkward one. Love em, but he is a blob fish given human form.

2. MEPAD!!! HELLO!! The colors should be at the top of the drawing box! But it's okay, because MePad should be allowed to enjoy other colors. Evil MePad be like: yellow, and has mouth. Who fucks with my vision. Hopefully no one. But I stand by the colors, he should experiment with his wallpaper just once.

[leebrontide]

Ok, new garden idea!

I remain desperate to remove the ugly low non-native pine hedge at the alley side of the yard. I never see any wildlife around it and it does nothing to obscure the view of garages and trash bins.

Eventually the apple and plum trees will obscure the upper part of the view, so I wanted something to obscure the lower part of the view.

My latest concept: the thorn beds!

The ground along that side is thick with big woody roots, so cutting them down and plopping a raised bed on top makes sense. the roots will break down eventually and make nice rich soil, but it's hella hard to plant into.

And, Ty misses our old garden's raspberry bed. I keep raspberries in beds because, as anyone whose grown them knows, they like to escape and run rampant.

But from an aesthetic viewpoint they're just sort of....a big green blob of a plant.

But how cute would it be to do a mixed bed of raspberries and raspberry colored roses? These plants like similar conditions and the roses are good at not being strangled by the berries.

So yeah. Kind of obsessed with this idea.

[thatguythatdrawsalot]

Blake - Atlas Design Critique.

Yippee I have more to say about character designs, this time it’s Blake’s turn with her Atlas look, there isn’t going to be a redesign but instead my OCs to prove a point. I promise next time there will be a redesign. 

RWBY Archives

This is gonna be interesting because before I can talk about Blake’s Atlas look I gotta briefly talk about Blake’s Menagerie design. This is all gonna culminate into the huge mess that is Blake’s Atlas outfit. Now this look has some meaning to it, by what it says Blake was wearing more white to hide herself, which makes sense for her arc at the time. It may look bad but the white coat had significance, when she ditches the coat and faces Adam to be in more black again it has a meaningful impact that she’s no longer running/hiding… plus the look with the white coat gone makes her look stunning! So tell me why she regressed her arc of hiding to be back in another uglier white coat to hide her ‘not dark enough purples’? It’s because the designer took the Menagerie look but made it sci-fi. They had no idea what to do for Blake other than to exemplify all the bad decisions in her previous look. Silly zippers that are reminiscent of Adam, a cat suit that’s impossible to put on and to take off, and ugly belts clamping her wrists for no good reason. 

And one other thing, why ditch the gold for silver? Wouldn’t it be nice for someone in team RWBY to wear yellow/gold? Why not the girl who’s going to be Yang’s girlfriend???

She’s the second one to freeze to death in team RWBY.

Hair

Again, I never want to direct hate towards a modeler, end of the day it’s the people who make the final decisions for the product who are at fault. When Volume 7’s poster came out nearly everyone was super excited to see Blake with short hair, it looked really cute and framed her face adorably. When the teaser/trailer for the Volume came out… everyone lost their mind at just how ugly the hair looked. False advertising at its finest. Blake’s hair was one of the ugliest examples of modeling I have ever seen in the show proper, it beats Weiss’ chunky braid. I cannot comprehend how Blake’s model got the approval with the hair alone. The hair was a droopy blanket/helmet. When they tweaked it, it still didn’t look good or even like the concept art. 

Primary Color - Black?

I’ve already mentioned that White has overtaken her color palette to regress her character development and her primary color along with purple. There is no ounce of pure Black on Blake. You can have Blake stand next to Cinder, Penny, Ruby, and Yang and they’ll have more Black than her. They try to compensate for the lack of Black with her GRAY hair, and Blake’s INDIGO catsuit. 

It’s ridiculous how the showrunners turn the B for Team RWBY into the representation of the color purple/white than BLACK. Are they afraid of having Blake be a black blob on screen? The reason she had limited black in the past looks was because of her long hair, but she cut it! Put as much black as you want now! Actual black! Stop overdoing white and purple. The black I used was from a direct screenshot of Blake in the DC movie, one where she had on her old outfit that represented her color and looked good- Positives?

I think Blake tops Weiss’ Atlas outfit cause I really can’t think of anything positive to say. If there was a lack of zippers and the concept of Blake was regulated to being a background character rather than a main character, the outfit could stand on its own. Or just MAYBE this would’ve been a better look for Ilia. It can be better for any other character than for Blake. I can just imagine Blake’s excuse for wearing this being “It looked better in the picture.”

Bonus Round - Ghira and Kali

You can skip this and go to the conclusion if you want, this is just me talking about how much I dislike the ‘Spitting Image Of Parent’ trope in fiction, as this always nagged me about Blake, Ghira, and Kali’s design. Alright so I don’t mind Blake being a cat faunus, I just hate the uncreative reason as to how she became a cat faunus, this was a trait inherited by her mother. Kali is a cat faunus. In the World Of Remnant series, an episode dedicated to the Faunus had a rundown that if two faunus’ of the same kind had a kid together, it’d be the same faunus. If two faunus’ were completely different, their child would be completely random. Kali is a cat, and Ghira is a panther, both felines technically but they really couldn’t just make her parents be human/faunus? They instead just increased the odds of Blake being a cat than something else or even her parents? They made her parents similar… a little too similar. Blake’s parents read to me as brother/sister by just how similar their colors and appearance are. It feels like two artists were tasked with making a mom and dad but didn’t communicate with one another on traits Blake could inherit from the other. I appreciate that they made Kali tanner with better-looking animated cat ears but seriously they start with black hair, yellow eyes, and end with a color palette being black/purple.

I don’t understand how Yang and Ren’s parents can feel like parents with their appearance but then drop the ball for Blake’s. It isn’t that hard, up above are my OCs; John and Penelope Ironwood aka James’ parents. You can argue that I made John be a spitting image of James but at least I TRIED. I had James inherit his mother’s navy eyes and curly hair. Whenever I draw/color James I just mix John and Penelope’s skin tones to make it James’ skin color. I tried to make them look like independent characters who could look like James’ parents but still unique. Conclusion

I don’t think anyone at RT can make Blake stunning, I hope Viz Media gives Blake a good outfit.

From the teaser image it looks like Blake is wearing black, only downside is the gold piercings. I like the idea of gold piercings but my god she looks way too much like her mother… and I really don’t like that trope.

However I’m gonna keep having my hope be alive for character designs than the story. Out of team RWBY I’m most excited to see Blake’s looks, if she looks awful for the final season I’m going to cry-

But of course, it’s just my opinion. If you love this design or hate the design, please share your opinion. I’d love to hear it! :D

[highhhfiveee]

Imagine having matching Christmas pj’s with Mike and Abby?🥹

IT WOULD BE SO CUTE😭

-🌊

!!!!! [i'm a little sleepy so bear with me lmao] pairing: mike schmidt x blackfem!reader summary: mint!reader spends christmas with the schmidts. wc: 880 tags: fem!reader, major fluff, christmas pajamas. just pure holiday sweetness [,: sorry if there are errors, it's late and i'm damn near conking at the keys

i have a pair of reindeer fleece pants that i’ve had for the last two years, and i can imagine abby gifting mint!reader a pair of them while you clear your dinner plates from the coffee table. 

"i gave mike his pair already. i was supposed to wait, but i was too excited," you're forced to place the dishes on the counter as she shoves the pants into your hands with a wide, toothy smile. the reindeer's heads are adorned with santa hats, festive lights strung around their antlers and ears. 

they're pretty cute, screened over the entirety of both legs, and you're rubbing your hand over the soft, fluffy material with a warm-hearted hum. you return abby's smile, reaching down to sway her side to side in a tight hug. "thank you, abs. you have great taste." 

"tell me something i don't know," she replies, and you lean on the counter in a fit of laughter, abby joining you soon after

mike had accepted his pair with a bit of reluctance, giving abby a slow and fabricated, "thankssssss...." as he stared down at the ugly cartoon reindeer. they were everywhere, crudely-drawn with unintelligible blobs for "lights". 

he'd stuffed them to the back of one of his dresser drawers.

the holiday is on a saturday this year, and he's so excited to be able to spend the entire day with you and abby. it's already panning out to be a good time as he enters to the tall christmas tree that's been set up in the corner, illuminated with lightbulbs of all sizes and colors. the ornaments are mostly silly; cardboard gift boxes, paper snowflakes and candy canes, and other kitschy things you and abby had made over the last twelve days.

there's a decent stack of presents under the tree, all wrapped in ways indicative of who handled them. mike's got one more for you in his grip, and he's about to set it under the tree when abby appears from the hallway, staring him down. "what's in your hand?"

"a present. merry christmas, abs." 

"is it for me?" 

"no, it's for y/n. just something last minute." abby takes in the small jewelery store bag dangling from his finger, squinting her eyes. 

"is it a ring?" 

"what---abby, no. we've been on one date." 

"i heard it went well." 

"yeah, well, one date isn't grounds for marriage, good or not. jeez, why don't you go talk to y/n and stop pestering me?" 

"she's changing into her christmas pajamas, something you should be doing as well. won't be fully christmas without them." 

mike stands to his full height, shaking his head with an irritated, "nuh uh. not happening, sorry." 

"oh come on, i spent my allowance on those pants!" 

"terrible purchase," mike deadpans, beginning to move towards the kitchen when you come into the early morning light of the living room. it stops him in his tracks. 

your hair rests atop your head, curly tendrils toppling over your eyes, and you look down at yourself as you notice mike staring at you. you survey for drool stains since you slept in your black camisole, and twist and turn as you scrutinize the pants on your bottom half. "a little small, but they'll do. thanks again, abby. you're really sweet," you're reaching out to pull abby into your side when you finally see mike, giving him such a bright, energized smile even though it's 7:53 in the morning. you're just so beautiful, and it nearly causes mike to lose all brain function.

"hi, mike! did you have a good shift?" 

"yeah," he sighs out, tongue so dry it'd work better as tinder. he composes himself, swallowing as he jokes, "watching over animatronics is really the life." 

you giggle, turning to hide your blushed cheeks and goofy, totally-crushing-very-hard grin. "well, you're employee of the century in my eyes, your picture should be everywhere! oh, speaking of pictures, abby wanted to take one with all of us in our festive pjs. mind changing real quick?"

there's no protest. mike's damn near the roadrunner with how fast he dashes in and out of his room, standing in front of you two in a white t-shirt and his reindeer pants in what feels like fifteen seconds. 

abby sticks her tongue out at him, huffing and crossing her arms over her chest with an indignant head raise, but mike pays her no mind, musing, "so...a picture you said," to you as he stares into your eyes and melts like a bar of chocolate left out on a hot day. 

the picture comes out cute; abby sits between you and mike, and your cheek rests against the top of her head while he keeps the two of you close to him by stretching one of his arms across your shoulderblades and pulling you in tighter. you're all smiling, perfectly poised for the shot, and mike can't help but think about how this is all he wants forever as you shriek at the custom necklace that he's gotten for you; deep yellow gold with a heart locket that had a tiny picture of him and abby inside, all of your initials carved into the metal on the other half. 

"mike!" 

"merry christmas, y/n."

omg i was not expecting to write this but how fucking cute. i really do love the holiday season so this is really nice. i can't believe american thanksgiving is in THREE DAYS. that's fucking NUTS!

faire's seedlings ✿

@leahdhopkins4321-@pyr0-kai-@angstywhore-@sunazroo-@nyxthoughtss-@mirophobic-@fayethor-@marixsimps-@regretfulme-@ithinkitszeph-@707xn-@cattt777-@violetta-ximena-@amnesia33-@topnerd03-@fastnights-@laprvphette-@savage-aespa-@mfdxz-@0-tatiana-0-@dusstory-@delwrites-@mikeschmidtgf-@jun1p3rlol-@xyzstar-@aquamarine001-@atrociouslybear-@ickleronniekinsemotionalrange

[starsstuddedsky]

Slice of Love

Haechan x reader

summary: birthday cake and boyfriend material

genre: fluff, non idol au, not really angst but haechan is so dramatic

warnings: swearing, food/dessert, i dont know anything about art, pls lmk if i missed any

wc: 1.8k (who is she???)

a/n: finally wrote something short and sweet :) it's been so long since i've done that lol. this is heavily inspired by 7dream cafe cake-making and my full belief that none of these boys should be unsupervised in the kitchen. thank you to @chocolatemilk139 for being my beta as always <3 (even though you didnt edit anything smh)

It’s not horrendous.

Donghyuck stares at the cake in front of him. The process started well: he made the tester cake last week week that the council (also known as his friends) approved with generous support (“wait, what’s actually kind of good,” from Jeno, “it’s edible,” from Renjun, “the hint of orange really sells it,” from Jaemin, “it’s not burnt so it’s already better than anything I could make,” from Mark, “you didn’t buy this?” from Chenle, and Jisung, who just stared at him with wide eyes). 

No, the problem isn’t the batter. He slaved over it all last night and chose the two cakes that rose most evenly in the oven. Everything but his tears went into making them. 

“Wow,” Renjun says, leaning over the counter. “You fucked up.” 

Donghyuck smacks him, leaving a trail of lavender buttercream on the wool sweater. 

“Hey, that’s going to be a bitch to get out!” Renjun cries. 

“Cry me a river,” Donghyuck says, “which is a good song, but also, you deserve it. It’s not that bad.” 

Renjun raises his eyebrows but Donghyuck raises a spoonful of extra frosting. Renjun backs off. 

Despite his strong defense, Donghyuck fears Renjun may be right. Though the cake stands tall, crumbs mix in with the frosting on the sides. What was supposed to be an artistically plump edging around the base of the cake and around the top corner looks like it exploded out of the piping bag (because it did, popping the cap off several times). In his head, the center would be filled with flowers and hearts and all sorts of pretty shapes in all sorts of pastel colors—but by the time he got to the center, he’d fully given up on piping bags, meaning he had to get creative for the flowers. Instead of flowers, he made blobs of frosting pushed off a spoon. In some spots he accidentally mixed the colors together, a green one shade away from brown, not at all like the field in the pictures on his Pinterest board. 

Jeno appears next, wandering out of his room. He misses Renjun’s warning glare, though Donghyuck doesn’t. He steps right next to Donghyuck, tilting his head. “What is this supposed to be again?” 

“What do you think?” Donghyuck asks evenly. 

Oblivious or uncaring, Jeno pauses to ponder. “A really ugly version of Shrek’s swamp?” 

“Get out.” 

“Get out of ma’ swamp!” Jeno attempts a Scottish accent, authenticity as questionable as the flower field in Donghyuck’s cake. Jeno retreats with Renjun on the couch, dodging Donghyuck’s frosting spoon. It would be a waste of the delicacy on his stupid dri-fit t-shirt, which he wears even when he doesn’t work out. 

“It’ll be fine,” Jaemin says. “It’ll taste good, which is the important part.” He sits at the counter, the only one to offer moral support while Donghyuck decorated. But his attempts at comfort are in vain; Donghyuck doesn’t just want the cake to taste good, he wants it to taste perfect, to look perfect, for all of it to be perfect. It’s the least you deserve. 

Donghyuck ignores the banging on his door, letting one of the guys let Chenle and Jisung in (no one else would threaten to break down a metal door instead of waiting the five seconds it takes to unlock the door). 

“We come bearing food!” Chenle shouts, plastic bag singing in his hand as Jisung follows precariously carrying a stack of pizza boxes. Far more food than needed, but Donghyuck won’t skimp out on you. Chenle tosses his bag full of snacks on the table, crossing the room to see the ‘masterpiece’ Donghyuck spent the past week hyping up. 

“Dude, are you seriously going to give that to YN?” 

“Are you trying to get dumped?” Jisung asks. “Ow!” he cries when Chenle smacks him. 

“Your welcome,” he says, “though he sort of has a point, that looks like literal shit.” 

“Does it really?” Donghyuck pouts. 

Chenle points at one of the browner spots. “You’re telling me that’s not a piece of shit?” 

“They were supposed to be flowers.” 

Jaemin, Renjun, and Jisung manage to cover their laughs as coughs but Chenle and Jeno let out a bark of laughter. 

“Yeah, you’re screwed,” Chenle says, clapping him on his shoulder that sags even lower than his normal bad posture. “You could call Mark and get him to pick up a cake on his way.” 

“He’s bringing YN,” Donghyuck says glumly. “Besides, I already told YN that I would make it myself. I’m not going to be a failure and a liar.” 

“It’s really not that bad,” Jaemin says, ignoring the chorus of dissent from the rest of the guys. “It’ll taste good!” 

Donghyuck shrugs. He can’t explain it, at least not so that they can understand him. He knows perfection is a subjective definition that he’ll never be able to fulfill but he strives for it anyway. If it isn’t perfect then why would he do it at all? Even if it’s his first time attempting this level of artwork, he should at least be able to make something that looks okay, or recognizable. 

And you—you deserve more than a dry store-bought mess and more than a half-assed attempt at love. You’ve only been together for a couple months but he’s determined to prove himself. A birthday was the perfect opportunity, even when you’ve known him for years and spent plenty of birthdays with him. This was his chance to show you the boyfriend material he’s made of, except instead of black velvet or creamy silk, Donghyuck thinks this cake is the work of a neon yellow polyester shirt worth less than $2 at the thrift store. 

“Mark just texted that he just parked,” Jaemin announces. He glances at Donghyuck. “You ready?” 

Donghyuck glances at himself. His hands are covered in frosting that’s dried and crusted, spread up his arms. His Kiss the Chef apron protected his shirt and most of his pants from the damage, but the mess is the least of his concerns. There’s nothing he can do about the disaster (he’s given up calling it anything else) in front of him. Shrek’s Swamp or a toilet bowl, it’s definitely not a flower field and it’s definitely not what you deserve. But it’s all he’s got. 

The final punch hits with a gentle knock at the door. Donghyuck crosses the room to his doom, stepping past his silent friends who bow their heads in respect for the walking dead. He pulls open the door slowly. He sees your shoes first, white sneakers you spent three hours with a Sharpie decorating, full of hearts and stars and unmistakable flowers—daisies and chrysanthemums and lavender, more than he can name. 

You wear your favorite jeans, loose bootcut that tighten at the thighs, hugging you in all the right places. A loose shirt hangs from your shoulders, one of the bands you always play for him with lots of bass and visceral lyrics that romanticize suffering. A family of silver earrings dangle from your ears, and he recognizes each of your favorites, the miniature swords, sparkling star shaped studs, a curly twist of metal that wraps around the higher part of ear. You look perfect. 

Donghyuck has always loved the way you smile, a gentle turn of your lips, like the happiness belongs to only you. You lean forward, pressing a short kiss to his lips, a peck more than anything. Donghyuck stares at you, eyes wide. You gesture to his apron. “Just following the rules.” 

He smiles though it fades as soon as he sees the frosting–no, the evidence of his failures, spread down the black fabric. “Happy birthday,” he says, wishing he could put more heart into it. A tiny frown furrows in your brow but you don’t question him. 

He steps back to let you walk in, trailing behind you as the rest of the guys wish you happy birthday. Mark catches up easily, clapping a hand on his shoulder, whispering, “Jeno sent me a picture.” 

Renjun hugs you, which Donghyuck belatedly realizes he never did. 

“I brought the food,” Chenle announces. “Don’t go thanking anyone else for my efforts.” 

“Our,” Jisung corrects. “You barely even carried anything.” 

“That’s because I had to drive,” Chenle says, waving his hand. “And don’t even get me started on the pizzeria, you better appreciate every molecule because—”

“Thank you, Chenle,” you say. 

“Thank me,” Donghyuck says. “It was my detailed instructions that perfected absolutely everything about today, which reminds me, did Mark behave?” 

You turn back to face him, linking your fingers with his. “Yes, babe, he followed your script. He almost cried because the barista messed up the order and he didn’t want to be annoying but he said you said ‘if anything goes wrong, I’ll kill you,’ and meant it.” 

“And I did,” Donghyuck says. He nods at his best friend for his service. 

“Now.” You squeeze his fingertips. “Where’s this cake you’ve been so excited about.” 

Donghyuck doesn’t try to hide his face. There’s no use delaying the inevitable. He lets go of your hands, leading you to the crime scene to lay the final verdict (the judicial system of his brain is in need of some reformation). 

You reach the counter and freeze. A list of concert dates greets Donghyuck, your back facing him while you study the cake. There’s no name for the opposite of a masterpiece, no artist that wants their worst creation recorded in history. 

He inches closer to you, peeking at your face. He recognizes the expression, the narrowing of your eyes, the way you flatten your lips. He’s been to enough art shows and spent enough time with you studying for art history to know what you analyze art. 

“It’s not Van Gogh or Monet,” he says, “it’s not even that asshole guy who made the Bean.” 

“Mm,” you hum, “no, you’re not any of them.” 

“It’s an ugly cake,” he says, “I know. I tried, I really did, but apparently you actually do need a decade or two of experience to make a decent cake, which is totally unfair, like, I spent more time on it than my research project, and this only looks marginally better than that.” 

“It’s amazing,” you say, “reminiscent of the expressionist era.” 

“Really?” 

“No,” you say, turning to grin at him. “But you made it, so none of that matters. Maybe it doesn’t look like what you thought, but seriously.”  You rest a hand on his arm. “It’s perfect.” 

He meets your eyes, sees sincerity and not an ounce of teasing. No, it wasn’t what he wanted for you, but that doesn’t really matter. Perfection is subjective and to you it’s perfect—why did he ever think it wouldn’t be? 

He grins. “Perfect?” 

You step closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him into a hug, ignoring the frosting that must be smearing across the band member’s faces. 

“Perfect.” 

a/n2: thank you for reading! as always, i appreciate any feedback :)

[moralesmilesanhour]

I saw your requests were open! I've seen in some concept art that Miles is trying out watercolor, can you (when you have the time and if you want to, ofc) please write a reader (Gn or fem) who is really good at watercolor and is a artist and teaches him? Either romantic or platonic work :D thank you, I love your work so much!!!

omg wait I used to do watercolor I still have the paints at home...hold my beer (I went with platonic)

Miles sucked his teeth as the pinks, blues, and green he had just put down ran together and formed a puddle in the middle of the paper.

No matter how many YouTube videos he sped through, he couldn't seem to grasp how the disembodied hand on his screen could lay down all that color (without the paper shriveling up like a raisin) and manage to sculpt it into something...comprehensible.

Just then, he remembered the scanned painting you had sent him the other day. It was a vibrant forest, dotted with bright neon flowers and birds dozing off in high branches. He couldn't for the life of him figure out how you managed to capture beams of sunlight in your heavy sketchbook and needed to learn your secrets, so he'd borrowed some leftover paints.

Miles had already mastered sketching, and knew his way around a box of markers. He could even command a messy can of spray paint. What's a bit of watery paint?

...A lot, it turns out. At any rate, he knew just who to call.

After a few beeps, your face appeared onscreen.

You were still in bed, surrounded by an army of stuffed animals with a sleeping mask pushed up to your forehead. Miles made a 'tsk' sound. It was two o'clock in the afternoon.

"Rise and shine, bestie!" he announced loudly into his phone speaker.

"What do you want?" you grumbled, rubbing your eyes.

"This watercolor shit is blowing my mind right now, and I need your expertise. Look!"

Miles flipped the camera to show you the blob of what was now a bright indigo pooled in the middle of his would-be masterpiece.

You squinted. "Jesus. Is that in your regular sketchbook, where you do the markers and shit?"

"Yup."

"Well, there's your first problem. You're using the wrong kinda paper."

"So that's why no one in those videos fucks it up? Noted,"

He reversed the camera again.

"What about the colors? Mine keep running together when I don't want 'em to."

This made you laugh, imagining Miles slapping a ton of different colors on top of a sketch like a child learning to paint in kindergarten for the first time, thinking that he knew what he was doing. He was never the patient type, preferring fast and loose marks with sharp edges. No piece of his was ever allowed an "ugly stage"; it either worked immediately or it would end up crumpled into a ball in the trash.

Oh boy, was he was gonna learn today.

You could see Miles pouting through the camera.

"What's so funny?"

"Miles," you snorted, "did you let the first layer dry before adding more colors?"

His eyes widened in realization, triggering more peals of laughter.

"I just wet the whole page, then started coloring! How was I supposed to know?"

"It's water, dumbass! It's not like your lil' Copic markers--"

"Prismacolor--"

"Whatever. Anyways, gimme fifteen minutes, I'm coming over to save you before you flood your entire room."

[catluniscia]

Okay I keep seeing the sadness of glazing and how you need a strong pc and just lot of you dooming over here. Going "Well I use an Ipad/phone" Okay folks I am gonna teach you all how to do a thing you can do on pc mobile what ever its called

MAKE AN UGLY WATERMARK

Now here is how I do mine when I feel like making water marks and not going through glaze. Now I have mine with my name and my handle, I also have one that is the same and has sample on it (those are for commissions)

Now I made mine as a material and use it on clip studio like this

Now you can also do like insignias, symbols what have you this is just a simple one for my sample!

Now next you make a layer over that and put colors over it use the gradient if you want put the colors in randomly via paint what ever go jackson pollock on it. Now I heard pastels really mess with the thing and also heard using more of a spray pain droplet like brush as well helps. If you want to do that or not up to you

Now here is what I do, so I like to use the distort filters now sometimes I use twirl some times wave what ever your heart desires, I use multiple ones multiple times just to make well this. Again we are hear to make ugly bright annoying watermarks.

If there is a large blob of solid color add anouther later ad some more then merge the colors okay next part, make the layer of pastel vomit as I shall call this into a clipping mask over the letters,

VOILA!

Now you can merge it all down and add like a stroke on it and blur it then you adjust opacity some set it to multiply I dont care do what ever feels right for you looks good and basically do it. And just change it up everytime to add some chaos.

So those of you who don't have glaze due to tech limits, do moblie, etc etc, Here this is a thing you can do, If you got an art program on your phone you can do this, Again doesnt have to be text could be just your signature, doodle of something, just do this, and just make different color layers every time so it screws it up.

Is this 100% protection? Hell no, nothing is lets be honest, but it will cause chaos. If you want some extra ounce of protection here and don't want to deal with Glaze due to what ever.