#ugh. blech. ugh

[amrv-5]

Begone from me...

[90494]

i don't think you've drawn fallon vacker yet, but no pressure incase you don't want to draw him :]

hi marcus

[kirstielol]

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[seaslimes]

You know it's bad when the Friday Malaise hits you.

[beansieboi]

First four done. Damn.

[spacestationstorybook]

hiiiii! 16 with inspekta? : )

OKAY HI THANK YOUUUU SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG i've been busy...college is scary. um. this got a little out of hand a Lot of stuff happens not directly related to the prompt. sorry i have a disease that means i think about him TOO much. it's STUPID and i HATE HIM

(set in the era before they're dating but after he ascends)

16. bumping shoulders together

Faraday would most prefer to be left completely to their own devices when they’re in an anxiety spiral as bad as this one. If any god is going to interrupt them, they would really rather‏‏‎ ‎it be‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎Mitternacht‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎or maybe‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎Cobigail.‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎At least it wouldn’t be anything they hadn’t seen before.

Out of any of the gods who could find them curled up in a ball and struggling to breathe, the new‏‏‎ ‎God of‏‏‎ ‎Leadership is dead last on that list.

Because he’s a new god, and they should be setting a good example for him, and absolutely no other reason at all.

“O-oh! Yew know, I can come back later…?”

At the sound of his voice, they attempt to straighten up, trying to look like they were doing absolutely anything else. “You don’t need to! I mean--I’m fine! Normal! Functioning!”

“Even yewr adja--objectives--yewr words aren’t convincin’.”

He gives them what is likely supposed to be a stern look, but everything else about him makes it still come off as more cute than anything. It would make them feel better if it didn’t make them start thinking about…other things.

He sits down, scrunched smaller than usual. “C’mon, yew can tell lil’ ol’ ‘Ekta what’s botherin’ yew. I’m a very good listenah! All my boys say so.”

He smiles at them. Earnest, sweet, confident. He really wants to help them. It’s what he does, after all. It’s what he did as Hector. Why he’s here in the first place. 

The thought of it makes them feel…

Something. Something warm and a little fluttery. They don’t want to investigate it any deeper than that.

(They read a lot. They know things. They earned their godhood for wanting to know a lot about things. They know what warm and fluttery usually adds up to. They’re not going to think about it right now. They’re not.)

Maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing, though, to let him help. At the very least, to let him listen.

“You’ve heard the news, haven’t you? About the Festival of Sparks?”

‏‏‎ ‎Inspekta’s‏‏‎ ‎eyes light up. “Of cowse I have! I wanted to come and congrat-shoe-late you on it! Your very own offishal holly-day! But, um. Yew didn’t seem very excited.”

The Festival of Sparks has been celebrated casually for a few years. After Bauhazzo’s Day of Memory, it’s the second Grove holiday of the year. All day, experts in all manner of subjects gather in the Cove to teach the skills they’ve spent years perfecting to whoever wants to learn a new skill in the new year. Lit by colorful lights in every color of the rainbow, for twenty-four hours, the Cove becomes a literal marketplace of ideas.

It’s beautiful. It’s awe-inspiring. It’s Faraday’s.

And that’s terrifying.

“It’s just--now that it’s official, that means I’m officially in charge of it. Everyone in the Grove is going to be looking to me, even more than usual, and I’m going to have to manage who gets the space they need and what hours of the day they’ll need to rotate and where to put the lights and make sure nobody gets electrocuted and everything else, and I can’t mess up because I’m a god, a deity, a divinity, and they don’t make mistakes. I can’t be the god who ruins their own holiday!”

‏‏‎ ‎Inspekta‏‏‎ ‎laughs nervously. “Oh. Wow. Yew sound worse than I did on tha campaign trail.”

They can’t help barking out a laugh in return. “That bad, huh?”

“Uh. That mighta come out wrong. Faraday, yew’re not going to ruin tha festival. An’ I bet all the other gods were probably sewper nervous when their holly-daze were brand new, too!” Faraday snorts. “I can’t imagine any of them ever being nervous about anything.”

“Well, they’re all old now, but I bet when they were brand new like yew n’ me they worried about tons of stuff!”

“You still worry about things?” they ask him, half-jokingly.

He breaks eye contact. “Just a little bit. But that’s strictly confidenshull.”

 Faraday sighs, feeling a smile come a little easier to their face. “Thank you, Inspekta. You’re sweet, kind, nice to try and help.”

His tail swishes and his cheeks flush. “N-no skin off my tail,” he stammers. 

After a brief pause where Faraday tries very hard not to think about the word cute or adorable or any other synonyms, he brightens. “An’ if it’ll make yew feel better, I can get all the Bizzies to help out with this year’s festival! Easy breezy, less stress for yew!”

Their automatic response is going to be something along the lines of you don’t have to do all that, but there’s that expression again. He really, truly wants to help.

“Thank you. Really. I appreciate it. I appreciate you.”

He leans over, bumping his shoulder with theirs affectionately. “Hey, us new goddies gotta look out for one anotha, right?”

“R-right,” they manage, and try very, very hard not to overthink the gesture.

He’s affectionate. He likes physical touch. It’s normal. He’s just being friendly. 

Completely normal. They shouldn’t overthink it.

It’s a shame they’re so good at overthinking.

[lilith-of-stardust]

I've gotten more sensitive to barometric pressure as I get older which is normal I think, but I'm pissed I had a headache all yesterday (w ibuprofen too!) And just woke up at 3.30 bc the storm front finally moved in and started snowing

[all-thestories-aretrue]

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[mugiwara-lucy]

Again….FUCK TED DAVIS 😤

[detectivehole]

yea nice place. your liquor shelf? oh man is that a plastic gallon of $20 vodka? wow that's amazing. no yea man i can... practicality taste it from here...

[alaskan-wallflower]

DAMNIT i saw a picture of ponyboy on the true for reference and he was smoking so i made pony in my drawing be smoking and i realized it WASNT BRODY ugh. apparently brody keeps the cigarette tucked behind his ear, might just fix it…idk tho.

[justashamwithwastedpotential]

I

Fucking

Hate

Coding

:)

[the-moogle-of-your-nightmares]

love when thinking about the infuriating discourse du jour helps me solidify my thoughts about it into a more useful, concrete form in order to discuss them, but also makes me so angry i feel like i'm gonna throw up. awesome

[inkmaze]

didn't fully appreciate the flavour difference of oils until I switched to peanut oil for my popcorn. hooooly shit

[elvendara]

AU-gust day 14

14 Aug 23 Wizards & Witches

Saeran lay in Yoosung’s arms, red hair tickling the blond’s nose. He inhaled and squeezed tighter, remembering the first time they’d seen each other. Yoosung was once again following a furry friend through the grey landscape of the city. He’d cast a spell on the rodent so no one could see him. There was fear and anxiety as they ran through the streets. Something was wrong, someone, somewhere was in trouble.

As he followed the rodent into the dark and nosceous inducing alley, he came to a complete stop and slapped a hand across his nose and mouth. The smell was unbearable. The rodent, noticing Yoosung had stopped following him, returned and stood on its hind legs, nose twitching.

“I know, I know. Just…give me a sec.” he pulled a handkerchief, thank you mom for insisting he always carry one, and wrapped it around his head. The smell was a bit more bearable though he tried to take only short quick breaths.

They took off again and soon enough he heard a small cry in the darkness. Slowing down he approached tentatively. Shadows covered the area, light only slightly filtering in from the waning sun, but there, huddled in a corner between a dumpster and the wall was a small child. The boy looked up, startled as Yoosung approached.

Yoosung guessed he was about his own age, but so frail looking that he was afraid a single touch would shatter him. The large amber eyes staring back at him were frightened, and he tried to scooch his body further away but there was nowhere left to go.

“It’s OK, I’m not going to hurt you.” He stopped walking forward and squatted in front of the boy. Closer inspection showed that his hair was a vivid red under the grime. His lip was split but the blood was already dry. He had a black eye that looked fresher and some bruising on his arms and legs with varying degrees of healing.

Living in the city with a decent family Yoosung had not been privy to much of the darker aspects of society, but since his magic had manifested, he had seen more than he cared to in his 13 years of life. More than enough for an entire lifetime. Whoever had beat the boy, it looked to be an ongoing occurrence. Most likely culprits would be his own parents. The thought boiled his blood.

He sat and took out a chocolate bar he had been saving for after dinner.

“Are you hungry?” he held out the bar halfway between them and waited. The boy wiped his tears, creating another streak of filth across his cheeks. He blinked at him and hesitantly reached out, ready to recoil in an instant. The body language made Yoosung clinch his jaw with anger at how unfair life was.

The rat climbed up Yoosung’s leg and onto his shoulder. He could feel the satisfaction raidiating off his body. The boy’s eyes widened even more at the sight.

“This is…well…I guess he doesn’t have a name, but, he’s my friend. He led me to you because he was worried.”

“About me?” his voice was soft and angelic.

“Mmhmm.” Yoosung nodded. “Would you like to pet him?”

“Can I?” the chocolate was forgotten in the curiosity of something new. Yoosing picked up the rat and set it gently on the boy’s lap. He smiled with genuine delight, as if he’d never seen anything like it. He pet the rat and it snuggled close.

“Saeran!” a voice interjected into the darkness.

“Oh! That’s my brother, I…I should go…thank you.” He said and stood, handing the rat back. They were close, almost eye to eye. Yoosung didn’t want to leave, but what else could he do? The boy walked away, looking back once and waving. He saw another boy at the end of the alley waiting, as Saeran reached him, he embraced him and it set Yoosung at ease, this was not the cause of his hurt. He himself sighed and walked away.

The next time was the same, and the time after that. Three times his furry friends led him to Saeran. The fourth was the last, almost 5 years since the third time. Again, he lay in a dark alley, having been beaten badly. It was as if he didn’t care what happened to him. Yoosung had taken him home and cleaned him up.

His furry friends had grown since the first time and his apartment was full of animals that came and went as they pleased.

“How do you always know where to find me?” Saeran had asked.

“I put a spell on you the first time we met.” Yoosung answered.

“Of course you did.” He sighed with a weak smile as he sat on the sofa. “Why bother with me at all?”

“Someone has to, and my friends would never let me hear the end of it.”

“Why do they care?” he eyed the array of animals before him, hands itching to dig into fur. The dog obliged, laying its head on his lap happily. With a sigh Saeran gave in to his impulse, why was petting a dog so satisfying?

“They’re very good judges of character and have an incredible sense of justice if you can believe that.” Yoosung gave Saeran a cup of tea and they sat mostly in silence.

They’d been together ever since. Saeran stayed and they built a life together. He never thought much about his magic, didn’t really use it for more than communicating with the animals and to help those around him when he was able, but he was more than thankful that it had brought him the love of his life. He kissed the top of Saeran’s head, and the man sighed in his sleep, snuggling more, as if he was trying to meld into Yoosung’s body. He laughed and closed his eyes.

[omgnoabsolutelynot]

Ugh, I don't know what it is - if I'm just comparing myself too much to other artists or if it's just a slump or what, but I've really hated everything I've drawn lately. Why does it all look so shit? I'm going to go play with clay and paint for a while and then go back to basics for practice, maybe that'll help