#And sketches get half that attention but double the joy i get from drawing... so i just sketch

[igneous-croc]

Also i feel like i should tell the truth - ive drawn like 500 purple hazes a day sincd the last post on reasonablydrawn-purplehaze. I love drawing the big guy! Hes a part of me now!

But I just dont post them - the drawings never got much attention, so what was the point of cleaning everything up to be "presentable", of finding some reason to justify why I drew haze shopping. Now i just draw haze shopping, and keep it to myself.

Will the haze blog ever go back to the activity it had? Norpe. That time is long gone. But Hazey is still important to me, and I still draw him lots, if that brings some relief to your heart that I have ever abandoned him. I could never.

[rogue-durin-16]

This is a fun idea that I’ve had rolling in my head for a while, but you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to! What if the reader likes to draw, so obviously, when surrounded by those snackable men in East company, she draws them! She puts little notes next to the faces (ex. Thinks he’s gods gift to women, or sweetest man alive), and maybe how some of the Easy boys would react to flipping through the sketchbooks and seeing the notes? With Toye, Luz, Bull, and Shifty?

A/N: I drew them for no reason. In like half an hour. I am so stupid somebody sedate me. Btw I actually read this when you sent it and thought omg I love it, and then completely forgot it existed. Enjoy these super delayed headcanons? <3

Warnings: none

JOE TOYE

"Hey, whatchu got there?"

Bad start.

You halfheartedly let him flip through the pages and this man's slack jawed.

Keep in mind that, while Joe knows you sketch in your free time, he has no idea you sketch them.

Double shock when he gets to his face.

Doesn't process the silly notes at first because something's not clicking.

You drew him. Him. Out of- him?

Tries his best not to blush

Genuinely doesn't know how to react

AND THEN HE SEES THE NOTES

This man cannot hold back a little smile of endearment when he reads 'toughest motherfucker' because that's a big ass compliment.

Specially considering he thinks he's a dud.

'an actual sweetheart' this man choked on his own words. A SWEETHEART. HIM. A-

"Do you... Like it or...?"

"It's— yeah no, I-I love it. They're really good huh..." Tries to act cool while he hands it back.

He can't look at you in the eye for a hot minute because you made his brain shortcircuit with a quick sketch.

Tough and a sweetheart. No one had ever called him a sweetheart.

Toye knows he's got a soft side to him, but it's buried so deep he never thought someone would notice.

Bot you did, and it keeps him up at night for months I'm not even kidding.

GEORGE LUZ

George is bored. He's very vocal about it.

You don't care. You're very vocal about it too.

Well too bad because Luz wants attention so he's going to annoy you until he gets some.

Verbal vexation doesn't work because you're currently focused on sketching Malarkey, so he switches to plan B; snatching the sketchbook away from you.

Immediately teases you about drawing Don while you chase him through the house you're billeted in.

Flips through the pages without actually seeing shit because initially he just wanted your attention and he got it.

But then he catches a glimpse of his face and sudden he's actually interested.

A boyish grin lights up his gaze.

He's way too happy about a damn sketch and he knows it but he can't help it.

You drew him and he looks handsome. He has never thought of himself as handsome but apparently you did.

Shoves you away to read the notes.

'Easy's source of joy'. THE REASSURANCE HE FEELS-

He snickers at the 'human lucky charm.

Then his head snaps at you in disbelief.

"SHORT?!" He's FLABBERGASTED. It's your turn to laugh.

Also run because George is so chasing you.

He's not sure what he's gonna do when he gets you. Probably hit you with the goddamn sketchbook. Probably kiss you idk he'll see.

BULL RANDLEMAN

Bull knows you sketch them for fun.

He's caught a glimpse of a couple of drawings here and there but never said anything, not even to you.

But now you two are sitting by each other's side at a bar in silence and he's adamant about making a conversation with you.

He bumps your arm, tilts his chin at you and then at the sketchbook peeping from your bag.

"Can I see 'em?"

How are you gonna say no to this absolute darling? To be fair you forgot about the little notes on his drawing.

He nonchalantly flips the pages, occasionally nodding and making quiet comments.

"You got talent, Y/n/n."

He's got the book wide open so you can see what he's seeing. And you see his drawing. And the notes.

Bull's heart swells at the sketch. It shouldn't surprise him— the fact that he's got his own page, but it does.

He reads the first note and the corner of his lip twists up. HE READS THE SECOND NOTE AND SNORTS.

He quirks a brow at you. "Anything you wanna tell me?"

You're mortified. He assures you he's completely kidding. Congratulates you on the drawings. Gives it back and watch your every move.

Husband material huh?

SHIFTY POWERS

Shifty makes eye contact with you while you're sketching him. Thrice.

First time you give him a mortified smile and he doesn't get why, but he returns it.

Second time he knows something's up. He sees the sketchbook.

Third time he walks up to you.

You attempt to uhm pretty much run away because you just finished so there's no need to stick around anymore.

He cuts through and get to you before you can leave.

"What were you drawing?" He asks, but he means 'were you drawing me?'

You show him and his eyes light up with joy.

He struggles with words but his visage is a very telling sign that he actually loves it.

He goes through everybody's sketch and asks if you were gonna add any notes to his.

The fact that he seems so excited about it dims your embarrassment and gives you a little bit of courage.

So you take back the sketchbook and scribble the notes before giving it back.

HE LOOKS EVEN HAPPIER.

'certified guardian angel' HELL YES, HE'LL KEEP YOU SAFE ANY DAY.

'lovely but deadly' he wants to kiss you. Much like Toye, he's not used to people seeing both parts of him, but... You do?

"Could I... Maybe... Keep it?"

You're surprised no one else has asked for the drawing. Maybe they assumed you wouldn't give it away.

Shifty's eyes widen momentarily when you rip the page and hand it to him.

He'll cherish the sketch forever.

Tags:

Band Of Brothers: @francois-ceverts @chubbypotatoepie @tvserie-s-world

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog @amourtentiaa @comfort-reads

[bvccy]

Hi!!! Hope you're doing great

Can I please have a mix between number 2 from the soft and 8 from the dark one

Thanks, lost of love ❤❤❤

Thank you so much, nonnie! I am so sorry this took so long, I meant to post yesterday but it wasn’t done. Also, the 8th dark prompt was requested just before you sent in this one, so that is filled separately here.

I tried to do the mix you asked for, and I took the liberty of writing this with Bucky (specifically 40s!BB), and I hope that it’s ok. It’s a bit of a more specific story, actually, that I’d wanted to write for a while. I also did a kind of first for me, because it involves Steve x reader as a backdrop 😂 Anyway.

Lots of love to you too, my dear! 💗💗💗

— PAIRING: soft!dark!Bucky x Reader • preserum!Steve x Reader — PROMPT: Asteria - gazing at one’s object of affection, from afar + Prassius - an impossible desire, and unclean love — LINKS: Masterlist • love stones prompt list — WORDCOUNT: 2.5k

It had taken long enough, and sometimes it seemed like it would never happen, but he finally found Steve a girlfriend — or rather, his girlfriend found him one. Dottie had exhausted several of her close friends and most acquaintances, but she knew how tired Bucky was of seeing his friend mope around, feeling like a third wheel, getting into trouble to pass the time. And honestly she liked Steve too, just not like that — but, wonder-worker that she was, Dottie found a girl that did.

She agreed to come on a double-date one night, and she and Stevie hit it right off. It was the first time Bucky met her too, and he didn't think much of the girl. Small, shy, not quite sickly-looking but not far from it, shoes a bit scuffed, clothes a bit too big for her and smelling of plain soap — in a word: perfect. She was perfect for his sickly, skinny friend who nobody else wanted, and by the looks of things, nobody had wanted her either because she seemed to have no idea what to do around a dance hall. As they were returning home that night, he even heard her confess to Steve that she had never been to one before.

They went out on two more dates, all four of them, within as many weeks. Bucky loved to dance, and Dottie too, but Steve and his girl weren't so fond of tripping over their feet and being laughed at. So they sat together at the table like a pair of broken toys, sharing an ice cream sundae, swinging shoulder-to-shoulder with the music when they liked the tune. Bucky waved at them when their eyes met, and they waved back and cheered at his dancefloor performance, but that happened less and less as they got caught up in each other. Steve would start to sketch things on the napkins while they chatted: the band, the sea of dancers, the fancy chandeliers, and eventually her.

"She said nobody's ever drawn her picture before," his friend said dreamily as they walked back, after they wished a good night to the girls. "Can you believe that?"

"Sure can…"

"She almost didn't let me do it. But she's so pretty, Buck."

"Mhm, nice girl."

"I mean yeah, she's no Dottie, but… I don't know, there's just somethin' I like so much about her… I guess her eyes, the way they look when she's smiling, or how her hair looks when the sun shines on it…"

"Get a load a' you," he grinned, wrapping his arm around Steve's shoulder in a playful grip that moved his friend's whole body. "One dame's sweet on you, and all of a sudden you're Romeo."

"At least I'm not a punk like you," Steve teased, slipping from his grasp.

"You know what I like best about her?"

"What?" he asked, with a hint of jealousy.

But Bucky smirked without a care. "How she keeps you out of trouble."

It had, indeed, been a while since Steve got in an alley brawl, and by their fifth date his last few bruises healed. He'd almost gotten into one by a cotton candy stand at Coney Island, but his girl was there to pull him back.

"Stevie, leave him alone…"

"You heard what he said?!"

"Who cares," she sighed, clinging to his arm and throwing the other man a hateful look. "Come on, didn't you want to win me that stuffed teddy bear?"

"Better listen to your girl, pal."

"Oh go find a sty to wallow in," she hissed.

"I ought'a smack some manners into you, you two-bit broad!"

"I'd worry about my own manners if I were you, buddy." Bucky slipped between them, coming from behind, standing now close enough to punch the guy if things got heated. But, seeing himself outnumbered, the other man cursed them and left. Just then, Dottie finally caught up.

"What's going on?" she asked, a little out of breath.

Bucky turned around, and was met by the heart-melting sight of Steve and his girl holding each other, her hands on his cheeks as she quietly chastised him, but loving enough that it made him smile and giggle. She closed it with a kiss to his cheek that made the boy blush, and a kittenish rub of their noses together.

"Nothing, everything's fine."

It was around the time they went to see a movie together that Bucky's joy for Steve turned into something else. They sat in the back while some musical played, and through the flashing lights and the corner of his eye, he could see his friend with his sweetheart holding hands on top of her lap throughout the whole performance. Meanwhile Dottie kept rubbing up against him, sometimes leaning her head on his shoulder, daring in the darker scenes to kiss his neck, but when she tried to get more of his attention —

"Buckyyy, what's wrong?"

— he shook her off. Hearing his name spoken by her voice suddenly felt disappointing.

He caught himself staring more and more, and not just when they went out together. Sometimes, the girl came by and spent some time with Steve, looking at his newer sketches, trying her hand too — oh and how disgusting they looked, Steve taking advantage of the situation to sit behind, and wrap his arms around her, and whisper in her ear. The pair greeted him cheerfully when he stepped through the living room and caught them, and he grinned back at them as he took a glass of milk, but all his appetite was gone.

And when they walked together through the park, and he saw them holding hands again… When Steve dug for some change to get her an ice cream, and they giggled stupidly as they made a mess of sharing it… When she fell asleep by his side one night at the dance hall, and Stevie woke her up with a tickle down her cheek, and she shivered and murmured like a bird and hid her face in his unworthy shoulder…

"Why don't you ever wanna dance, doll?" he asked as they were fetching drinks.

"Not much good at it, I guess," she shrugged. "The fast ones make me dizzy and I always trip."

"I can teach you. It'll work out great! Stevie teaches you to draw, I teach you how to dance… What do you say?"

The girl seemed to think, but shook her head. "Hmmm… No, not right now. Thanks," she smiled politely. "Besides, what would Stevie do meanwhile?"

She told him no just for the sake of keeping his scrawny little friend company, and Bucky had never felt more insulted — not that she wouldn't dance with him, although that hurt enough, but that he couldn't remember the last dame that gave something up just to stick with him, or got into fights for him, or kissed his wounds away, or held his hand in hers with no ulterior motive, and he'd found a girl that did that, and he wasted her on Steve.

So what if she was a little on the smaller side? So what if her dresses didn't fit right? So what if she came down with the cold at every change of season? He put up with it for Steve and he wasn't half as charming. The girl, instead, looked very delicate, more feminine in her own way, like when she braced her fingers on a table as she talked and mindlessly swung back and forth, animated in whatever she was saying, and her digits bent in such a childish way he feared they'd break, and it only made him want to kiss them. Or when she took her shoes off when she came to their apartment and he could catch a hint of shapely ankle, just perfect for his grip, or a peachy pink instep small enough to fit his palm. And when she fell asleep on their couch that one time and Bucky saw her all curled up, and noticed the arch of her hips and the cinch of her waist and pictured how good it would feel to hold them, and angle them upward, and…

Slowly, he started to appreciate some of what his friend had said that night, because she did have lovely eyes, and hair that looked so soft and warm, and her scent, unburdened by perfume, was sweet and girlish, and her lips looked kissable, and her wrists and knees and ankles too…

"Going out again, tonight?" he asked as the blond boy fixed himself in the mirror.

"Yeah, she wants to try this new place we —"

"Alright, alright…" sighed Bucky, already sick of hearing more. "So, that's all you're gonna do?"

"Well… yeah."

And then he voiced an evil thought. "Don't you ever want to… you know?"

"Y-you think we should?" Steve asked, turning away from his pallid reflection.

Bucky sat sprawled across the couch, and shrugged. "If she really likes you, she'd be up for it, don't you think?"

"I don't know about that, Buck."

"No? Ok," he nodded. "After all, what do I know?"

The aftermath of this particular advice was a draught of dates for poor ol' Steve, because just like Bucky had expected, the girl shrinked at the suggestion and couldn't stand to see him. For a while.

"Can you believe it, Buck?!"

"Yeah…"

"She'll see me again!"

"That's great, Stevie."

"What's wrong? You're lookin' real dour today."

Bucky knew he shouldn't. "I just…" He knew that it was wrong. "Look, it's great that she's forgiven you, but you gotta be realistic about this, pal." He had been happy for Steve at one point, long ago.

"What do you mean?"

But that was before he saw just how much love a girl could give, and realised he'd never felt it.

"Just don't delude yourself this is anything more than what it looks like, ok? She's only forgiven you because she knows nobody else will have her."

"That's mean, Buck."

"Yeah, well… I'm just looking out for you. You're my best friend, you know that. I don't want you getting hurt." It stuck in his throat to say it, but the bitterness stuck more.

And after Steve went to bed that night, Bucky took out the box of candy and the pricey perfume he had bought for her, threw them in the trash, and firmly promised to himself to never wait too long again.

But as he learned a bit later on, when they went back to double-dates, he might not have had a chance at all, because there was an unwitting element of truth to this cruel tirade.

"I can't exactly blame you, honey," Dottie consoled her as they stood in line for the ladies room, not knowing Bucky was just behind the thin divider leading to the men's. "If he does something like that again, I know this other fella —"

"Oh no, Dot, please… We're fine now. He explained things and… he's really sweet, I think he just had a moment of —"

"But just let me introduce you to Jim, see if you don't like him better."

"I… I don't know."

"He's a real charmer," Dottie grinned, "and he has these big, broad hands, jaw like an anvil. He just broke it off with Marcie cause she was a flirt."

He didn't hear anything next, but the girl must've shook her head cause Dottie asked, "You're sure?" and "Really? Well, if you change your mind…"

"Thanks, Dot," she lightly laughed.

"I don't know why you're so stubborn though, it's not like he's that far out your league. You just need to fix your hair a little bit and get a better brand of powder."

"It's not that easy."

"It's all it took me to get Bucky on my arm. That, and a better set of heels," she laughed.

"Yeah but you've always been pretty, Dot. Like, really pretty, and you know it. I guess some girls are for the James Barnes of this world, and some are the for the Steves."

She giggled as she said it, with not a hint of anger or resentment, and that's what stung the worst.

Bucky arranged to go see a late night movie with Dottie after that, while Steve and his girl went back to the apartment to listen to a boxing match on the radio and have some cherry sodas. Dottie went ahead to buy the tickets while Bucky walked them home, and after wishing him good night, she went upstairs to set things up. Steve was meant to go to the store and buy the drinks, but he stayed to chat with his friend a while.

"I can get some eggs and milk as well while I'm at it," he offered, swinging on his heels with his hands in his pockets.

"Sure."

"Or do we have enough for breakfast tomorrow?"

"Go ahead and buy them, pal," Bucky smiled, pretending to be less tired than he felt.

"Ok. And what about — darn!"

"What is it?"

"I just realized, I forgot to give her the keys," he said, taking a hand out of his pocket and holding them out. "I gotta get to the store, can you go up and give them to her?"

"Er, why don't —"

"You know I always trip on the stairs when I'm in hurry, Buck, they haven't changed the lightbulb yet. Don't make me do it."

"Fine, I'll go."

"I owe you big."

"You always do," he grinned, and took the keys from him.

Steve made off for the corner store, while Bucky started the long slow climb upstairs. It was completely dark inside at that hour, and the few candles some neighbours left to light the way had all gone out.

"Stevie, is that you?" he heard her call, standing right outside their door.

He kept one hand against the wall and walked his way toward her, stopping as he heard her whisper, "I think I lost the keys."

Blindly, she moved her hand forward, coming right across his chest. He felt her jolt at the unexpected contact, then burst into a giggle. Bucky could already feel the fanning of her breath right at the level of his chin. With an unseen smile, he took her hand, and placed the keys within it.

"Oh," she laughed. "You had them."

As her hand closed around them his own moved up her shoulder, fingers threading around her hair, and as he touched her jaw he felt her tilting slightly upward, shivering under the feeling.

"Is everything alright?" she asked.

He felt the warming tickle of her breath as he leaned close until, through the pitch black, he touched his lips to hers. Bucky did it lightly, just a little, just enough to taste and sip a kind of love he'd never really had. She stood surprised but took his kiss, and he felt her smiling into it, even beginning to kiss back just as he was parting from her.

"Your lips are softer than before," she giggled, in a sweet but altogether crushing way that made Bucky's heart beat stronger. "Stevie?"

Her hand moved through the air to touch him but felt nothing anymore, and down the stairs the heavy steps echoed, moving downward and away.

[meruz]

Aforementioned long ask post please excuse me while i try to figure out tumblr's new text editor. I’ll get into the art meme questions first and then the rest at the end.

Ok first of all thank you all for sending in questions! Giving me an excuse to talk hehe. I’ll address these in number order. Here’s a link to the ask meme for reference but also I’ll restate the question for ease of reading.

1. When did you get into art?

Super cliche answer but I don’t remember a time where I WASN’T the weird art kid! I started keeping a dedicated sketchbook when I was about 12? But here’s a page from my kindergarten journal about what I want to be when I grow up.

2. What art-related sites have you ever signed up for? 

LOL this is a weird question. Not sure why so many people want to know. Anyways I definitely had a dA. more than one dA account. I used to browse oekakis when I was a kid but I think I was only signed up to some small ones that internet friends owned. What else...? Mangabullet,Tegakie, Paintberri, iscribble back when that was a thing, instagram if that COUNTs, I used to post art on livejournal and dreamwidth too. Patreon, I guess. Gumroad, inprnt, bigcartel, storenvy all for selling stuff.

In terms of resources.. I have a schoolism account that I’m sharing with friends. Used to take classes on coursera for free. I signed up to textures.com for work recently haha. I can’t remember if I ever had an account on posemaniacs. Did they have accounts...? I definitely used to visit all the time.

3. Show us your oldest piece of art you have on hand.

Alright here’s me actually logging into my old deviantart account. These are from September 2008 So I was 13 years old. I don’t have a deviantart account from before then because 13 was the required age for having an account and I didn’t want to lie about my age because I wanted people to be impressed by how young yet clearly incredible at art I was LOL.

4. What defines your artistic style?

You guys are probably more equipped to answer this than me but uh... I wanna say... Focus on colors. And... a slightly heavy hand? Like confident... not always well-considered mark making HAH...

Also I think I have a pretty healthy mix of american comics/manga influences. I feel like people who are into american comics always think my art is too manga and people who are into anime/manga always think my art is too american. And I’m taking that as a good sign.

5. Do you practice other styles/have you tried other styles in the past?

I like to think I switch it up a bunch! I mean, these are pretty different, right?

I think I’ve mentioned this before but one thing I really took away from art school is that, for an illustrator at least, art style shouldn’t be consistent. Your greatest weapon is changing the aspects of your style based on the task, the emotions and message you want to illustrate etc. So depending on the project I’m working on, the fandom I’m drawing for, whether I want something to be funny or serious or dramatic, I’ll change things about my style all the time.

One thing I don’t rly post on here is really tight polished work and that’s because I do that for my day job haha. If you’re not paying me... I’m probably not gonna color in the lines.

6. What levels of artistic education have you had?

I have a whole ass diploma LOL. Bachelor of Fine Arts in Illustration. from the Rhode Island School of Design. And I had a great college experience tbh. Besides the student loans. If any of you guys are thinking about art school feel free to e-mail or message me questions or concerns, I’ll be happy to help. Be as honest as I can be.

7. Show us at least one picture you drew or sketched recently that you did not put on a public site.

heres the wandavision kids. Uhh what else do I have...I feel like I’m rummaging for loose change here...

assorted valentines prep doodles

8. What is your favourite piece that you have done?

Well, obviously this is gonna change all the time and generally it’s gonna be my most recent piece LOL. So yeah, why the hell not. I’ll say it’s this one. I have a pretty short memory which I count as a blessing for an artist. I don’t dwell that long on older work and it keeps me moving forward.

10. What do you like most about your art?

I like that it’s something that only I would make! I had this thought fairly recently and I wrote it down in my sketchbook, it’s pretty cheesy and rambling but it felt revolutionary at the time:

So yeah. I like my art best when it’s the most me and for me. And I like it least when it feels like I’m just making something for social media or for other people’s expectations or whatever.

14. What do you like drawing the most?

Kids in baggy clothing are like my go-to LOL idk if that’s obvious. but also I like being challenged so lately I’ve really loved drawing multi-character compositions, environments, weird angles, etc.

oh i LOVE drawing the underside of shoes lol. And bandages. People that are kinda beat up.. I think it comes from getting a bunch of cuts all the time. I’m always patching myself up and I want to patch characters up too.

15. What do you like drawing the least?

mmm I try to find something to like in every drawing but lets see... I don’t like doing commissions of people’s dogs. Just because it’s normally like... a family friend and my mom volunteered me without my consent and I don’t even really know what they’re expecting me to draw and I don’t even get to meet the dog. Also I’m not that great at dog anatomy. Trying to learn though.

18. What is your purpose for drawing?

This could have a million answers! Uhhh to GIT GOOD??? But also to express myself... and also to make money... I mean it depends on what the drawing IS. I draw fanart mostly to connect to people in the fandom so if you ever see me drawing fanart please take it as like an open invitation to talk to me about the character haha. 

20. How would you rank your art? (poor, mediocre, good, etc.)

Good!!! I have a lot of self-confidence primarily born out of ignorance and a short attention span. If I don’t think too hard about how many other artists are mindblowingly unfathombly good... its easy to think I’m good too! LOL

In all seriousness though, I think the opinion a person has of their art is like a crazy balancing act, right? Like you have to think you suck enough to want to get better but also you have to think you’re good enough to not want to give up. I think we’re all walking that line, I know I am! But also I’m a glass half-full type of person so. Most of the time I feel good about it.

22. List at least one of your “artspirations.”

This is a good question because I’ve been trying and failing to put together one of those “influence map” memes for like a full month now. What’s giving me a hard time is I feel like none of these are actually really obvious “““influences”““ in my art? Like it’s hard to see a lot of them in the work I make...? But idk maybe you guys’ll see what I can’t.

And these are just a couple! God there’s so many more. I could talk about other artists for ages, from all different genres of art. Daumier, Rockwell like every illustrator out there, Dana Gibson, Alex Toth, Hiroshi Yoshida, a lot of the Brandywine School. Lots of current working artists too, Karl Kerschl, frikkin Masashi Kishimoto lol, Jake Wyatt, Richie Pope, Edouard Caplain, Matt Cook, Sachin Teng, - lots of big internet artists, Sophie Li, Freddy Carrasco, Milliofish, Angela Sung... like all my friends from art school too. I could just keep going but I’ll stop for now lol.

24. Do you have a shameful art past? (recolour sprite comics, tracing art, etc.)

I mean if that’s how we’re defining shameful?? sure LOL. It’s not sprite comics but I used to do pokemon sprite recolors all the time. And I used to trace manga panels and color them... Granted this was all when I was like under 12 yrs old so it’s not even embarrassing. Can you really call it shameful when a 7 year old wets the bed or whatever? Not really. In fact some of these are cool as fuck. Look

25. Draw a picture!

Man I’m so tired now but here.

I used to get a lot of compliments for drawing people smiling lol but I don’t think I’ve drawn a lot of smiling lately.. here’s proof I’ve still got it.

OK MEME DONE. onto the rest.

I read this ask first thing when i opened my computer in the morning and it made me really emotional.. I’m so glad my sketches could help you!!

I think a lot of artists on social media talk about the struggle of making art but imo not enough people talk about the joy! Like I know it’s corny but. I really meant what I said at the beginning of that sketchbook about re-contextualizing art around process and progress > product and perfection. I think its super important..! The strength of messy, unfinished, and energetic art! For the feeling of it, for the love it!

That's crazy!!! I hope you like 'em. The whole line of x-books is really good rn imo.

Hi! I totally have the answer for digital stuff on my faq lol. But in terms of drawing on paper.. it varies! I tend to use sketchbooking and any on-paper doodling I do as a way to loosen up/warm-up or experiment. But right now my go-to aresenal is:

from top > bottom

- kuretake no.55 doublesided brush pen

- tombow fudenosuke

- muji 0.38 ballpoint

- medium size poscas

- grey tombow double brush pens

- good ol bic mechanical pencil

not EXACTly sure which inking you referring to from my sketchbook but if I had to take a guess it'd probably be the kuretake no55. That's been my main inker, lately. Great for sketching with the thin end too.

You can print out and eat my art if you like. Just please don't mass produce or re-sell. <3

Thanks! I've come to accept that my art is always gonna be sort of gestural and painty naturally. It's getting it to tighten up enough to be legible that's hard lol...

uh yeah lol I agree actually. I think yolei is great.

I assume these asks are related? LOL

1) Yeah totally true. I love David.

2) I don’t take requests, sorry! But if you want to commission me to draw Legion i would be MORE than happy to. Just e-mail me at isellhotdogs@gmail.com.

<33333333333333333333333333

[wizardofrozz]

Put to the Test

Summary: The clock is ticking. If the Avengers want to bring Roz home alive, they need to find a lead.

Warning: swearing, angst, violence, trauma, depression

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x OFC

Chapter 9: Time is Almost Up

Steve’s POV

Months flew by with almost no real information on where Hydra was hiding Roz. Any leads worth checking, the four of chased down, but ultimately, we always ended up with nothing. The most recent tip brought us to Siberia, the base where the Winter Soldier was trained. Nat and Clint were sprawled out on one of the queen-sized beds in our hotel room, flipping through Hydra files that Nat managed to uncover. Bucky sat across from me, eyes roaming over a map spread out on the table as I flipped through my notes.

           “Hey, Buck?” Nat called, lifting her head slightly.

           “Hm?” he grumbled, his eyes not leaving the map.

           “Do you remember the layout of the base here?” she asked, watching his response.

           “I could probably draw it,” he mumbled, only half his attention on her.

           “Okay,” she answered, giving up on getting more out of him. The Winter Soldier still occupied Bucky’s brain for the time being, but he insisted (demanded) we stop calling him the Winter Soldier; it was an odd feeling to call out of my friend’s name and not see the typical warmth in his eyes. The empty stare of the Winter Solider made my skin crawl; a flicker of emotion would pass his eyes from time to time, but it never stayed for long. Bucky reached for his notebook next to him, finally ripping his eyes off the map in front of him; I watched his pencil move as he sketched the general outline of the base he was kept in all those years ago. When he finished, he tossed the notebook to Nat; she jumped when it landed on the file she was reading but nodded, her eyes scanning the drawing.

           “Is there any chance they would be keeping her at this base?” Clint piped up.

           “We are running out of places to look. If she isn’t here, I have no idea where else they could be keeping her. This base was supposed to have been destroyed, but when Tony sent a drone out, the entrance still stood,” I said, flicking through a few pictures, tossing the one I wanted at Clint.

           “Well, let’s hope this is a good sign,” he muttered, going back to his file.

***

The bitter cold nipped at the exposed skin of my face and the tips of my ears. I glanced at Clint and Nat, who were huddled together off to my left before turning my gaze back to Bucky, who was working with Tony to get the door of the base open. I rubbed my hand together, trying to chase off the cold seeping into my bones; the sound of crushing metal snapped me out of my frosty daze.

           “Hey! Wait up, Manchurian candidate,” Tony yelled as Bucky walked into the base.

           “I don’t think insulting nicknames work if he doesn’t care,” Nat chuckled as she approached Tony.

           “Let’s go,” I sighed, tentatively following Bucky.

           “Downstairs,” Bucky’s emotionless voice drifted from the elevator. Tony, Nat, Clint, and I stuffed ourselves into the elevator with Bucky; I watched the numbers change as we descended into the underbelly of the base. Bucky was pressed against my chest, while Tony’s back was pressed against mine; Bucky shifted, rolling his eyes when the elevator finally stopped.

           “I did a heat signature scan on our way down the elevator. It looks like we have company and a lot of it,” Tony whispered as we followed Bucky farther into the base.

           “Let’s go see who’s homes,” I mumbled as we approached steel double doors.

***

Roz’s POV

I watched the steady drip from the water pipe make a puddle in the corner of my cell, adding to the already muggy atmosphere in my cell. My hand rested on my bulging stomach, rubbing small lazy circles to keep any anxiety at bay. Tears continued to roll down my cheeks, but at this point, I don’t think there was ever a time that my cheeks weren’t damp anymore. I tried to cling to the hope that Bucky would find me, but as weeks, then months kept flying by, it became harder to anticipate him busting through the door to my cell. The suffocating pain that engulfed me as I thought about my future and the future of our child plunged me into a fitful sleep.

***

I mindlessly spooned the bland oatmeal into my mouth solely for the health of my child. A guard came back sometime later to take the utensils and hand me a plastic cup of orange juice. I barely registered the taste as I chugged it, handing the cup back as a doctor slid into the room. The small man in a white coat wandered to my bed, making notes on a clipboard as his eyes roamed over me; he clicked a few buttons on the machines I was hooked up, nodding to himself.

           “Any pain?” he asked, his voice soft. I didn’t move to answer; my eyes stayed glued to the door; I heard the doctor sigh next to me. “I assume no pain,” he mumbled. “I’ll be back to check again tomorrow,” he said, walking towards the door. When the steel door slid shut, my stoic expression cracked again, tears wetting my cheeks again while I stared through the small window of the door into what may as well be the depths of hell.

***

I woke with a start at the sound of gunfire ringing through the base; I managed to pull myself into a sitting position as I strained to listen. The repeated buzz of metal vibrating caught my attention when the gunfire subsided momentarily. What the hell is going on out there? I looked through the door’s window, but the hall was empty; I buried the idea that anything good was going to come from the commotion. I caught the sight of a handful of guards running into the hallway in front of my cell, each one standing, guns raised, ready to fight. A single shot rang out as the light in the middle of the hallway burst; the light directly in front of my cell cast shadows over the hallway. My heart rate picked up as I watched the shadows of two figures step into the mouth of the hall before the deafening sound of gunfire started again. That same buzz of metal on metal bounced around in my head; it sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place why. Suddenly the blare of gunfire stopped, leaving an eerie silence; I caught a glimpse of the figures moving towards my door. I screwed my eyes shut, praying that maybe if I sat completely still, they’d turn to leave; the groaning of the lock mechanism on the outside of my door let me know I was dead wrong. The steel scrapped against the concentrate floor, the sound vibrating through every bone in my body.

           “Roz?” I heard a faint whisper; my heartbeat stuttered at the sound of my name. Snapping my eyes open, I saw Steve’s piercing blue eyes; pure joy surged through his eyes when he realized he found me.

“Steve?” I croaked, relief crashing into me.

“Roz,” he sighed again, moving towards my bed. Steve’s arms pulled me against his chest, crushing me, but I couldn’t be bothered to care; for a split second, I thought it was a trick.

           “Hey Cap, we gotta get moving,” I heard another familiar voice from the doorway.

           “Clint?” I muttered, and Clint’s head poked around the corner of the door.

           “Hey, kid,” he said, a smile spreading across his face.

           “Where is everyone else?” Steve said, pulling away from me to look at the machines I was hooked up to.

           “Still clearing the floor,” Clint answered, moving into the doorway. Steve started gently removing wires and tubes from my arm; I threw the blanket off my body, throwing my legs over the edge of the bed.

           “Holy shit, we got here just in time,” Clint mumbled, eyeing my protruding stomach.

           “Can you walk?” Steve asked after removing the last wire.

           “Yeah, they kept me moving around,” I mumbled. Steve flinched slightly but coaxed my arm over his shoulders and wrapping his arm around my waist; he helped me get to the floor, but my knees buckled suddenly. Steve inhaled with a hiss before swiping my knees out with his arm, carrying me bridal style. My chin rested on his shoulder as he carried me out of the cell; I watched the doorway get smaller and smaller as a memory hit me. “Bucky,” I whispered.

           “He’s here,” Steve mumbled, his thumb rubbing my shoulder to comfort me.

           “Where is he?” I asked, turning my head to look at him.

           “I have to warn you about something before you see him. After you were kidnapped, he snapped; the Winter Soldier kind of came back. Not in the same way as before, but he’s not himself; it may take some time before he’s back to normal. Be prepared,” Steve squeezed me slightly in hopes of comforting me.

           “Oh god,” I croaked, tears springing to my eyes again.

           “Hey, it’s okay. He’ll be okay,” Steve whispered, trying to soothe my hammering heartbeat.

           “They made it outside to the quinjet. The base should be clear,” Clint said as Steve carried me into the elevator. The bumpy ride was agonizing; I buried my face into his neck, doing my best to keep it together. The temperature significantly dropped when Steve stepped out of the elevator; the thin nightgown I was wearing did very little to shield me from the cold. “Steve, stop for a second,” Clint called, his voice getting closer. Clint laid a warm blanket over me; Steve moved his hand so he could pin the blanket against me. The sudden burst of cold air made me jump as an unforgiving chill seeped into my bones.

           “Almost there,” Steve mumbled against the blanket. I could hear the snow crunching under his feet and the howling of the wind through the rocky landscape; I peaked up from Steve’s neck to watch the entrance of the base fade into the distance. I knew we made it the quinjet when I heard the faint hiss of the door hinges open; I shifted in Steve’s arms so I could see into the quinjet. The fading sunlight glistened off a familiar red suit standing in the doorway; Tony’s mask popped up, revealing his tear-stained face.

           “Tony,” I hummed, a smile pulling at my lips.

           “Hey, kiddo,” he whispered, his voice cracking slightly. As Steve walked up the ramp, I saw Nat jump from her seat, pushing Tony out of the way; her red-rimmed eyes searched my face as Steve got closer.

           “Nat,” my smile grew again.

           “Oh god, I thought we lost you,” she cried, awkwardly hugging Steve and me.

           “Okay, it’s cold out here. Let me get her inside,” Steve chuckled, shouldering his way past Nat into the quinjet. Clint closed the door as soon he stepped him, cutting off the frigid wind. Steve set me on one of the seats along the side of the quinjet, tightly tucking the blanket around my shoulders. Tony stood in the back of the quinjet as Nat and Clint went to the piolet chairs; I tried to look around Tony, but he only moved closer to take up more of my line of sight.

           “I already told her, Tony,” Steve sighed, plopping down next to me. Before I could open my mouth again, Bucky pushed around Tony to stand right in front of me.

           “She is safe now,” Bucky’s eyes fell on Steve. I watched as his eyes passed over my body, landing on my face after making sure I had no visible injuries. “Thank god,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes.

           “Can we have Bucky back now?” Steve growled, a sour look on his face.

           “I hope I never have to see any of you again,” Bucky sounded completely emotionless; his usual playful nature was gone. My chest tightened at the sight of a man I thought I left in the past; without any warning, a strangled yelp left Bucky’s lips. Bucky’s one eye twitched as his head turned into his shoulder before both of his eyes screwed shut in pain; seconds later, the creases in his face smoothed out as he lifted his head. Bucky’s eyes darted around the quinjet, his brain trying to recognize his surroundings when his eyes fell on me. Bucky’s usual, striking sky blue eyes replaced the empty steel gray ones I saw only seconds before; I watched the emotion surge through him, tears pooling in his eyes.

           “Roz?” he whispered. Bucky’s face softened instantly, looking like a different man, the man I fell in love with almost 100 years ago.

           “Bucky,” I sighed happily, getting to my feet. The blanket fell from my shoulder, revealing how far along my pregnancy is; Bucky’s eyes snapped to my stomach.

           “It’s true,” he mumbled, stepping closer.

           “We’re going to be parents,” I choked out, reaching towards him. Bucky finally closed the space between us; his arms wrapped around me as much as they could, and he buried his face in my neck. I snaked my arms around his neck, inhaling his familiar scent; I gasped as what felt like thousands of fireworks exploded across my skin. Bucky’s shoulders shook, sobs raking his body as we clung to each other; his legs trembled as he pulled away from him before falling to his knees. My heart broke at the pain etched into his face as he looked up at me; his eyes fell onto my stomach as he gently raised his right hand to my stomach. Sparks bounced along my skin as his hand rested on my stomach; Bucky’s gasped when he felt a violent kick to his hand.

           “Hi,” he cooed, chuckling. Another, less forceful kick made him giggled again as he rubbed my stomach. “I can’t wait to meet you, little one,” Bucky mumbled, leaning in to kiss next to his hand. Bucky swiped the tears from his face with the back of his metal hand as he pushed himself to his feet again. His eyes racked over my body, tears threatening to fall again; Bucky cupped my face, his beautiful blue eyes boring into me.

           “I love you, Bucky Barnes,” I whispered, our lips almost touching.

           “And I love you, Roselia,” he whispered before kissing me. My entire body erupted in fireworks, every inch of my being feelings warm; I finally felt like I was home again.

Series Masterlist | Chapter 10

Taglist: 

@criminalyetminimal​ @kendallthesimp​ @marvelfansworld​ 

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

The New Prosthetic

@evilwriter37

Summary: HICCUP WHUMP! Post-RttE, Pre-Httyd 2! Hiccup built himself a new prosthetic leg and he wanted to try it out. Naturally, new creations are bound to have some kinks.

Rating: Teen and up

Words: 3 585

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: Dislocated Joint

Author’s Notes: Here it is! My very first prompt from my @badthingshappenbingo card!

I actually handled this one a little bit differently than my other fics. Instead of checking the spelling and posting it immediately after finishing it, I let it rest for almost a week before checking for errors. I feel like that helped me a lot with this one.

Constructive criticism is highly appreciated.

Enjoy!

Hiccup felt the tiny flutters of butterflies in his stomach.

Inventing always made him feel like a kid all over again. The initial idea, sketching each design, planning them out, working with his own two hands in the forge... Whenever he smelled the charcoal of his pencils or the metal and smoke of the forge, his heart usually skipped a beat. Everyday stenches that others might find unappealing, but which brought him a sense of familiarity, joy, even comfort on a bad day.

Especially whenever he finished something new, that was when he felt the most thrilled. When a project finally came into fruition and his hard work had ultimately paid off after hours, days, sometimes even weeks of work.

It was an exhilarating kind of feeling that he never tired of and his latest work was special to him.

He made a new prosthetic for himself. A metal leg that could double as a multi-functional tool. Complete with a regular foot that allowed running, a lockpick, a foot for more difficult terrain and one that connected to Toothless' saddle.

It helped him to lay flatter and still be able to correctly manoeuvre the artificial tailfin. This, in turn, enabled them to fly even faster, it made Hiccup a smaller target, let him move his foot out of the stirrup effortlessly, moving gracefully in the sky as one simply became so much easier.

And if this new prosthetic worked, perhaps he could invent something for Gobber as well.

He wasn't too opposed to seeing more Hiccup-y devices pop up in the forge now and again.

But before Hiccup could begin on a new arm or leg for his mentor blacksmithing, he needed to test out his own metal limb first.

And that is why Hiccup had left the house so early in the morning.

Before his dad awoke, the sun was up, the local baker baked his first loaves for the market, Hiccup and Toothless were already up and out the door.

The Night Fury sniffed the new prosthetic Hiccup wore on his stump. Though unfamiliar, it smelled of his Rider and it looked like one of his contraptions as well. He knew Hiccup's handiwork by now.

"So, what do you think, Bud?" Hiccup asked, standing up from the rock he had been sitting on in order to pull it on and showed it off.

Toothless crooned, giving him a reply as he kept his gaze on it. He was impressed, amazed even! Hiccup with his genius and his dexterous hands never ceased to surprise him. Every single time the young man managed to surpass his previous creations and this was no different.

They were in the cove, the place where their friendship first started, and he remembered Hiccup having trouble climbing in and out of their little spot without his help. One of the new "feet", as they were called apparently, was supposed to help him with terrain he used to have a difficult time traversing. Snow and hidden patches of ice were especially troublesome for him.

Toothless was excited to see it work. Much like his Rider, he was always thrilled as well.

"You know, I think this might be my best work yet. And in time, I might actually be able to add on even more! Like a dagger! Gobber really enjoyed the pegleg with the hidden dagger that I gave him for his birthday." Hiccup was no stranger to insecurites, having many of them himself, but at least his ability to invent and create was something he was proud of and relied on quite often.

Toothless had heard enough. Moving, he pushed Hiccup's side with the flat top of his head and then his back, rumbling and crooning as he urged him to walk. He wanted to see this new leg in action already.

"Okay, Bud, okay! I'm going!" Hiccup chuckled and walked away.

He didn't go too far before turning around and coming back, pacing as he stared down at his feet. He wanted to truly feel the soft padding inside, see if there were already any noticeable kinks he should work on, he hoped it felt different from his previous metal leg.

And it did. Gobber had made him a wonderful leg four years ago, but this one, with the rounded off tip, allowed Hiccup to walk easier. It didn't quite work like a real heel, but he noticed he didn't walk as stiff anymore. This would do well to improve his gait.

Toothless crooned excitedly, approaching, circling and headbutting the human's shoulder. He already noticed the difference. Hiccup didn't limp quite as much as he did before either. He still limped, he was always going to, but he also managed to take note of the rounded tip's usefullness.

"So I guess you approve?" Hiccup asked him, judging by the Night Fury's reaction, his newest creation was a success so far.

Toothless purred, giving an almost human-like "yes", and licked him full on in the face.

"N-" While Hiccup was left to sputter and spit as he tried to use his red tunic to wipe his face, his armour had been left home for today, Toothless left his side. Half of that got in his mouth and it wasn't the most pleasant of tastes. Or smells for that matter.

The Night Fury wandered towards that rock Hiccup had been sitting on and gestured towards the saddle lying beside it.

It had been modified as well.

Significantly less wet, but hair still hopelessly matted to his forehead, Hiccup approached.

"Now, I guess it's time for me to show you why I took the saddle, huh, Bud?" He questioned and Toothless gave an impatient groan.

It has been days since their last flight. His Rider had told him then that he wanted to modify it and Toothless hadn't been too opposed, but now he was dying to be back up in the air again. He knew the other felt the same way.

Grabbing the saddle, Hiccup helped his dragon pull it on again.

"Bud, stay still, please? I can't put it on you if you move that much." He chuckled. It was hard for both of them to keep from moving, excited as they were.

As Hiccup pulled on the last buckle, Toothless noticed that the stirrup on his left wasn't quite the same as it once was.

It wasn't a stirrup at all anymore, there was nothing for Hiccup's metal foot to attach itself too.

His Rider noticed the dragon's confusion, Toothless crooned and gestured with his snout to the lack of a stirrup, lifting up his left foreleg. Tapping his shoulder, Hiccup drew his attention again.

"Watch this, Bud." He sat back down again, placed a hand on the wooden cup of his prosthetic and gave it a twist. The new metallic foot disappeared and in its place came a different kind of creation, something that looked like it could attach itself to the saddle and then the lack of a regular stirrup made sense to Toothless.

Gurgling happily, Toothless urged Hiccup to stand and get in the saddle already. It was time to test the new leg up in the sky.

Hiccup didn't need to think twice before climbing up, Toothless practically bumped him onto his back with his snout nudging his Rider's rear.

Once seated and secure, Hiccup clicked his leg into the new stirrup, enjoying the satisfying 'click' it made, and grabbed hold of the handles. The two braced themselves and with a big flap of the dragon's wings and a jump, they were up.

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After spending the past few days stuck on the ground, the sky was a wonderful place to be in again. A welcoming place. Though it did make Hiccup wonder how he managed to live the first fifteen years of his life without Toothless and their ability to fly together as one.

Hiccup inhaled deeply and then breathed out again, the always present scent of the salty sea down below filling his nostrils. The wind combed through his hair and his clothes billowed. Toothless did the same thing, savouring the soft carressing of his scales and the near weightlessness of his body so high up in the air.

It felt good to be here. An unseen weight seemed to lift off their shoulders, like they were free again.

There were other dragons up there with them. Nightmares and Nadders who had also made Berk their home these past couple of years. It felt good to be more amongst them too. Off the ground and into the air, where they both belonged.

Hiccup adjusted his prosthetic slightly, approving of how it held up so far. Toothless raised a foreleg as he took a look, he purred.

"Yeah, it's holding up great so far!" Hiccup answered, feeling confident in his newest creation. This new method to connect his metal leg and the saddle together, it was to further improve their manoeuvrability. So far it wasn't too difficult to steer Toothless' artificial tailfin with it.

But they needed to really test it. Now that they knew it could hold up in a normal flight, it was time to find some way to experiment and truly see where its limits lie.

And Hiccup found just the thing.

"Hey Bud, look up there!" Toothless looked up and saw what his Rider was talking about.

A bunch of young Nadders, adolescents, playing in the sky. They were chasing each other.

"Should we ask them if we can join in?" Hiccup knew these Nadders and they knew them. He had watched them grow up this past year.

Toothless roared to draw their attention and flew higher, the small group of six halted momentarily to watch the two familiar Dragon Riders approach.

Nadders were born with lighter colours than they usually have as adults. They were slowly shedding their pastel scales for a more vibrant hide.

"Hey guys, mind if we join?" Hiccup wasn't so sure he'd have had the guts to just go up to a group of friends and ask this in the past, before Toothless. But not only had he grown more confident, these were also a group of dragons. A people he felt more at home with.

And like he and Toothless had hoped, the six adolescent Nadders chirped eagerly in agreement. One did a roll in the sky and off they were, chattering of teasings and taunts as they dared the two to chase them. It was a game of tag apparently.

"Come on, Bud." Hiccup adjusted himself in the saddle, excitement swelling up in his chest. A deep and eager rumble vibrated from within the Night Fury, Hiccup could feel it from his position on his back.

Though the young dragons flew far and fast, it wasn't hard for them to catch up.

This game of tag, while also commonly played by Viking children, was a little bit different than from what Hiccup used to play as a very young boy.

High up in the air, dragons couldn't physically touch one another without the risk of downing each other. The slowest of the dragons would be caught and roared at, making them the one who was "it". No actual tagging, just roaring as one dragon passed the other by.

It wasn't hard for Hiccup and Toothless to catch up to the Nadders and relieve themselves of the role of "it". Though they were fast, a Night Fury was faster. One half of this Dragon Rider duo being this exact species could almost be called cheating.

It was virtually impossible to catch Hiccup and Toothless with how in-tune the two were with each other. They sped up, slowed down, dived and swerved, but adolescent dragons liked a challenge. The young Nadders knew before accepting their request to join the game that they would be difficult to catch.

A roar of laughter left Hiccup as he and Toothless barrel rolled in the sky and it was like music to the latter's ears. Their hearts soared together. Those days spend stuck on the ground, even if it was for one of his projects, had been much too long.

Though the world was spinning, Hiccup looked towards where the Nadder youngster had been left behind and noticed there was already quite a bit of distance between them. Dizziness or nausea, he felt neither of them.

"Okay, Bud, time to turn back." Toothless could hear his Rider even through the loud rush of the wind. The barrel rolls gradually ceased up high in the air and the two started a freefall.

The way down was a long one, but it was over all too soon. Falling with the wind tossing them around, they never felt more in control.

As the ground rapidly approached down below, Hiccup gave his Bud a warning pat on his neck to even out.

That is when their game came to an abrupt end.

Toothless spread his wide wings, Hiccup put the tailfin in the right position and with the sudden stop in velocity, the shock made a tear in the leather straps keeping the saddle in place.

With a yelp, Hiccup was thrown forwards and the tailfin shut itself. The two were in a freefall once more, the adolescent Nadders aware of the trouble, but too far away to be of much help.

The ground was much too close.

"Tooth-" Hiccup never felt the impact. The moment they crashed, it became dark before his eyes.

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He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but Hiccup was pretty sure he couldn't have been out for more than a couple of minutes.

Lying in the grass, sore and bruised all over, he could hear his Night Fury's crooning as he drifted back to the world of the conscious after having left it for just a moment. Toothless' voice helped lead him back.

"Hmm, Tooth?" He slurred, moving just a tad to roll onto his back. He had been lying on his side and he wanted to open his eyes, face his Bud.

Toothless gave a quick warning growl and that was when a sharp pain abruptly and agonizingly ran through him, starting at his leg and moving up through his hip.

A strangled cry left him, his face contorted in pain and he ended up on his back anyway, breathing deeply as tears sprung to his eyes.

He opened them and the first thing he saw was Toothless staring back at him, his nose twitching as it did four years earlier when he woke up after the battle with the Red Death.

Toothless crooned and pressed his snout into his Rider's freckled cheek before bringing it down to sniff his body to seek out any hidden injuries. His attention consistently on just one part of Hiccup's body.

Hiccup lifted his head up to look down at himself to see what his dragon was staring at and cringed.

His left leg was not supposed to be at that angle.

His new prosthetic, the clasp that kept it attached to the saddle was supposed to have come loose during a fall, allowing Toothless to grab hold of him safely and saving them both from a possibly very fatal blow. That had been the biggest problem with his previous replacement, a problem he had attempted to fix with this new one.

Failing its purpose, Hiccup found that his leg and Toothless' saddle were still connected. As a result, his left knee, the weaker one of the two, had been painfully dislocated.

Hiccup continued to take deep breaths, both in and out. The pain didn't lessen one bit. He could only imagine what it looked like without his leather leggings.

It had already been there when he woke up, but it hadn't been as severe as it was now after he's moved. Toothless was lying next to him, remaining still because he'd realized the state of his Rider's leg while he was out and didn't want to make it any worse.

Lifting his head up for another look at their situation, still attempting to calm his laboured pants, Hiccup wondered just how they were going to get out of this one. Every little move made hurt so much.

But he found the reason for their crash. A strap on the saddle, the stitching worn by strain and weather had torn and come loose. He had been meaning to replace them.

"Gods..." He moaned and put his head back down. This was such a mess they were in now.

Toothless prodded his cheek with his snout. He wanted to provide comfort, but instead the movement made, though it was so little, hurt so bad.

"Toothless!" Hiccup cried out, but jumping at the pain only made the pain even worse. This was becoming an awful cycle.

Mumbling an apology, Toothless put his head down, deciding to try even harder to stay still. Humans didn't have as high a pain tolerance as dragons did and this was a particularly nasty injury.

Hiccup needed a moment. Closing his eyes, he tried breathing through the agony. So long as neither of them moved, it was bearable.

The two Dragon Riders than heard the chirping of worried dragons and looked up to see the young Nadders approaching.

The group of six landed and much like humans surrounded them in concern. Hiccup could've sworn he saw them cringe in their own way upon seeing the state he was in. Even they knew a human's leg wasn't supposed to bend that way.

Though he didn't want an audience, Hiccup supposed they might be able to help in some way. They chattered amongst themselves and Toothless, seemingly discussing what to do next.

"Hey-hey!" Hiccup moaned, moving carefully to lean on his elbows and trying his best not to look at his knee.

He could ask them to get help, to find the other Riders. He knew Astrid and Snotlout had patrol today.

But the adolescent Nadders apparently already had some ideas of their own. Chittering and screeching, hissing and flexing their dangerous spines, they appeared to be arguing. Hiccup's call for their attention fell on deaf ears.

Hiccup often found himself wishing he could understand what dragons were saying and this was one such time. What could they possibly be having such a heated discussion about?

By the time Hiccup realized one of them bend down and reached for his leg, it was already too late for both him and Toothless to stop them when a green Nadder took his prosthetic and pulled it loose. That had been their master plan to get the Dragon and Rider untangled from each other.

All six of the Deadly Nadders jumped back when a pained scream tore out from Hiccup's lungs. It appeared they hoped pulling on the fake part of the leg wouldn't hurt as much.

Now lying flat on his back again, Hiccup covered both of his eyes and clenched his teeth down on one another.

It hurt. That was all he could think about, how much that hurt.

Removing one hand, he peered at the Nadders through his blurred vision.

"I'm... I'm okay." He was lying and choking up, but he didn't want them to feel guilty. It helped the green Nadder feel better again as it had shrunken back after hearing him scream.

Now free, Toothless moved, standing up and sniffing his Rider's face, but Hiccup covered it again, breathing in and out deeply in the hopes of coping with the burning and throbbing sensation left in his knee.

The Night Fury gazed at the limb. Although the angle wasn't quite as ugly anymore, he knew that didn't lessen the pain in any way.

He faced the young Nadders and with a roar angrily chased them away, they had done more than enough already. The youngsters, not willing to argue with this dragon in particular, left in a hurry, nearly tripping over each other as they flapped their wings and made way for the skies.

"You didn't have to chase them away like that, they just wanted to help." Toothless could hear Hiccup mutter, but ignored his words. His Rider couldn't have heard it, but he had warned the six that it was a terrible idea.

Looking up into the sky, Toothless charged a plasma blast and send it flying. Its purpose was to call for help. With all the dragons and Berkians around, somebody was bound to see it. Hopefully, one of the other Riders was already nearby.

Knowing that it couldn't even be minutes before help would arrive, Toothless decided to settle by Hiccup's side again.

Though somewhat recovered, there was still very little Hiccup could do besides lying there and scratching his Night Fury's chin. It was something he did for his own comfort as well.

Help couldn't be far.

Holding his breath, Hiccup managed to sit up and Toothless lied down behind him, allowing his Viking to lean back against him.

Looking up, they noticed that one Snotlout Jorgenson on top of a Hookfang Monstrous Nightmare were already headed their way.

Hiccup could only sigh. The sooner they got his leg taken care off, the better.

His dad and Astrid would chastise him and Gothi would probably advice him to stay at home or risk a whack of her staff, but Hiccup could only think of one thing, improve his prosthetic.

Next time they test it out, he'd make sure to put it through more thorough tests before taking to the sky once again.

[papercricketgallery]

Commissions and Job Hunting

And so the joy and ease of summer starts to draw to a close with the inexorable dwindling of my bank account. I'm down to my last $600, just enough to cover next month's rent and utilities, but I'm scrambling to get money together for everything else, including feeding myself and my cat and getting gas for my car. Job applications have been slow going due to me having to update my resume with practically every site, as job applications do, and the stop gap driving job would be wonderful if I had the time to actually do the driving part that makes me money. Great time to be out of town due to family get together that decide to double in length and get me temporarily blocked from the scheduling site. So much fun. Anyway, though I have never actually closed commissions, I'm going to be opening a specific sign up only series of commission slots so hopefully get together some quick-ish cash so I can buy food for my cat (I can live off ramen for a little longer). The details are as follows: +10 slots, $10 per slot. In my normal commission bracket, this would be a quick colored chibi or simple bit of handlettering up to three words, but I'm going to be expanding it for this to hopefully draw more attention. These slot commissions are going to be any full color bust portrait of up to two characters per slot, preferably but not required to be humanoid. The style of these slot commissions are going to be in the same vein as my CU artwork and my latest Good Omens piece. +Slots are open until 15 August 2019, no exceptions. Whether or not the slots are full, I will be closing them after roughly one week. I figure if no one wants to bother in a week, then they won't bother after that point. I need money and I need money now, not in three months. +All commissions must be paid upfront through PayPal or KoFi. My normal policy is half up front and half upon delivery, but I can't afford the wait right now. But, because of this policy shift- +All commissions will be completed by 20 August 2019. Or you will be compensated for your wait with an extra doodle or small character sketch. I'm not going to say that there won't be delays, since I'm expecting to hopefully getting a couple interviews in the interim and those will take time, but usually this art style doesn't take me incredibly long and roughly 2 completed pieces per day seems pretty feasible. Please note that I am still open for my general commissions and donations are ALWAYS welcome, so if you're interested in something quick and cheap, do feel free to check out my rates and drop me a note. Available Slots: 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10.

[totallyseventeen]

Soulmate AU | Soonyoung

In which you and Soonyoung are soulmates.

Non-Idol Soonyoung x Artistic Reader

This is my first work ever posted to Tumblr, so I really hope you enjoy!

It all started in kindergarten. You were sitting at your little desk while meticulously coloring, and you saw a crudely drawn smiley face appear on the top of your hand. Like any five year old would do, you stand up and scream. The teacher rushed over to your side, and after hearing what happened, she told you about soulmates.

It wasn’t an unfamiliar concept to you; your parents had mentioned the term numerous times before, but you just brushed it aside. Your teacher explained that everyone has a link to their soulmate, but those links vary from couple to couple. She then told you about your link. Whatever you soulmate wrote on himself, you could see and vise versa.

You stared at the smiley face on your hand and admired it. Yes, it was a very bad smiley face. The smile was very crooked and the eyes were so off it was laughable, but it was from your soulmate. You ran back to your desk and snatched a baby blue magic marker and wrote “Hi :)” in sloppy letters on your forearm.

That was the first time you and your soulmate ever had contact, but that was years ago. Now, you are nineteen and have much more knowledge about your soulmate. You learned that he was Korean very quickly, as having strange characters pop up on your arm worried both you and your parents. You learned the language over a long period of time, and your soulmate learned some English, but he is still learning.

He loves to dance. You learned that when he scribbled odd lines and dots along your arm. After a few minutes he wrote an explanation on his hand saying how it was choreography. You attempted to decipher and do it yourself, but you couldn’t distinguish what he meant by the mess of lines mapped out on your arm.

He loved his friends, as well as making people laugh. He would often write down really cheesy jokes where he knew you would see it just so you would laugh. His friends were also very prevalent in his life. They would often prank him by drawing things on him which transferred over to you too. You didn’t mind it that much though. It was a (rather unfortunate) method to discovering more about him and his life.

You also tried to show him a part of yourself. You loved to doodle on yourself. Art was a form of expressing yourself when words couldn’t do justice. The doodles ranged in size from a small little flower blossoming from your nail bed, to a beautiful, intricate lion that took up your entire hand. What you didn’t know was your soulmate watched the creations come to life. It was the highlight of his day to see the ink from your pen magically appear on his skin while swirling into intricate designs he could never have imagined. It was like a window into your emotions. The doodles depicted an aspect of your mood to your soulmate, and he treasured your doodles. He would even flaunt them to his friends and brag about your talent.

Of course, both of you attempted to divulge your names or your location. When you tried to write that information down, the ink swirled around like it was mixed with water. It swirled around which made the writing illegible. It was a very frustrating ordeal, but it did create a wonderful water-color like design. You supposed it was like the universe saying sorry for the trouble.

You woke up on this particular day and were immediately dreading the day. You moved to Korea about a year ago. You made this big leap to try to become one step closer to meeting your soulmate. You let your soulmate know through a vague message that simply stated “I’m moving to you.” He immediately began writing when he saw that message, but it was all blurred out. A small smile made its way onto your face when you saw how excited he was.

You have been here a year, as said before, and you are working in a little coffee shop in Seoul. It is a quaint little shop that has a feeling of peace within it, well, when it isn’t full of customers. The shop is located near a fairly busy street that creates a lot of foot traffic, generating a good crowd. The only bad thing about this set up is that most of the people who come in the shop are pompous and arrogant businessmen and women. It very aggravating to deal with a customer that lets you know they could do your job better than you do. You have to stick with it and hope you won’t slap someone, but you get by most days with the help of conversations betwixt you and your soulmate.

After working for about six hours for your morning shift, you return to the counter to attempt to gain some extra spending money. The familiar ding of the bell on the door sounds and you turn to the door to recite your required greeting.

“Welcome to Jeonghan’s Cafe!” The cheer in your voice is obviously forced, as well as your smile. The man that just walked in returns your false smile with a genuine one that seems to be overflowing with joy. His dyed blonde hair sticks out and grabs your attention, as does his smile. His chubby cheeks accentuate his smile in the most precious way and you can’t help but be shocked at how smokin’ hot he is. You shake your head to remove those thoughts and turn to the register where the man is currently waiting to have his order taken.

You scamper over to the register as quickly as humanly possible and turn to face the gentleman. “Hi! How can I help you today?” You notice some of the fake cheer in your voice has disappeared, and the same has occurred with your smile. They aren’t completely fake, which is a first for this job. You wouldn’t hit on him or anything though; he has a soulmate of his own and you respect that.

“Ah, yes. Can I get an Americano please?” His voice was comforting as opposed to the brash and hateful voices you have grown accustomed to hearing day after day.

“Yes sir. Will there be anything else?” The man shakes his head with the same smile adorning his face. “Okay. Your total is 2900 Won. May I get a name to go with that order?”

“Soonyoung.” The name fits him. And, he didn’t notice that this shop didn’t require you to get his name for his order. You walk over to make his drink after he pays you and he takes a seat in a nearby booth. You pour the drink into the cafe’s signature cup and walk it over to him.

“Thank you so much,” Soonyoung states with thanks evident in his small, expressive eyes. He grabs the cup and holds it with both hands, which conveys a child-like innocence. After mumbling out a quick thanks, you rush back to the counter to try to hide the subtle blush creeping up your to cheeks.

You look around the shop and see that Soonyoung is your only customer and it is in the middle of the afternoon lull, so you pick up a pen that happened to be lying nearby. You then begin to doodle on your hand.

You begin at the tip of your middle finger and create small precise lines flowing down to the middle of your hand. You begin to branch off of the little lines to create more lines with several scattered leaves along each line. You drew the most magnificent and unique tree on your hand that you could imagine. After about five minutes, you hold your hand infront of yourself and marvel at your work. You usually dislike your handiwork, but this time was different. You felt proud.

You then remember that you still have a customer and turn your attention to him. His coffee is half gone, and he is currently looking down at the table like he is in deep thought. Well, that is what it looks like from your view in which his back is facing you. In reality, Soonyoung is still entranced by the way the ink flowed onto his skin and by his soulmate’s artistic ability. He looked at what he assumed to be the finished project and was stunned at how talented his soulmate truly was.

The familiar chime of the door’s bell rang again and a group of three men walked in. They all seemed to radiate a certain confidence, and they walked with a certain graceful air about them. You assume that they are dancers due to those observable facts. You have been learning a lot about dance ever since you discovered your soulmate enjoys it, so your assumption may be correct.

After reciting your usual greeting, they all give you a small smile before looking in the direction of Soonyoung. They begin to walk over to him and they greet him with big smiles, which Soonyoung returns wholeheartedly.

They sit down and Soonyoung immediately displays his hand to the three people. “Guys! Look at how talented my soulmate is!” He nearly shouts his comment in the poor boys’ ears and they examine his hand while marveling at the work of art sketched onto their dear friend.

“You have a very talented soulmate, Soonyoung. I just wish you wouldn’t scream every time she draws something,” one of his friends with sharp, piercing features states while still examining Soonyoung’s hand.

You regret to admit that you had been listening to their conversation, but you were now interested and ecstatic. From what has been said, it sounds like Soonyoung could possibly be your soulmate. The thought of your assumption being wrong slips into your mind, and you refrain from going over there to confirm your theory.

“Hyung, can you buy me a brownie?” The shortest of the group asks with a cute, unintentional pout on his lips.

Soonyoung sighs in an overly dramatic manner, “Just this once, Chan.” With that he stands up and proceeds to walk over to you. You rise up from your position slouched over on the counter and prepare to take his order.

“May I please have one brownie?” His eyes dart to the display containing numerous delicacies and sweets.

“Sure! One second, Soonyoung.” You retrieve the brownie and place it neatly on the shop’s special napkin. You grab the four corners of the napkin to hand it to him, as it is a strange habit you have developed . Soonyoung reaches his hand out to get his friend’s treat, when he suddenly froze and his eyes seemed to double in size.

He looked at you and then his eyes traveled down to your name tag. “Y/N. I knew my soulmate would have a beautiful  name.” His cheeks redden from the cheesy line he just used as your jaw drops. He then shows you his hand with the exact same drawing of a tree sketched onto the skin.

You snap out of your shock-induced trance and look into his eyes. They are full of compassion and, dare you say, love. “It is nice to meet you, soulmate.” A bright smile takes over your features as you say this.

Soonyoung’s smile somehow grows bigger and he lets out an adorable little giggle. “It is nice to finally meet you too, soulmate.”

[0erasurehero0]

The Reaper of Ashmore: Chapter two

Hey, it’s been a while! Finally I have updated The Reaper of Ashmore (TROA)! I’m excited for what you think!

@rayonfrozenwings @dragonbound135 @a-court-of-ink-and-paper @i-put-the-sass-in-assassin @repressed-feels-syndrome @the-bookish-soul

I tagged those who were in the comments and those who asked to be tagged. If you want to be tagged for further updates just say so. I’m sorry if I missed anyone.

                                                 Chapter Two:

                                                 Wake Up Call

 Groaning, Ash slipped from the black, silk sheets and stepped into the bathing chamber. A large, claw foot tub leaned against the far wall; the sink stood on the right along with the toilet. On the left wall was a rack that held towels, bath products, and clothes. A door on the left led to the walk-in closet.

        She turned the faucet and began running a hot bath--it was to relax her muscles, which seemed to twist together when she got drunk. These days, it feels as if her muscles are twisted every other day.

        Reaching behind her, Ash plucked the bottle of bath salts off from the ground and poured some into the bath. The water was so hot that steam billowed all around her. She sighed; this was going to be wonderful.

        Slipping off the robe that hung closely to her hips, Ash carefully stepped into the bath, hissing at the warmth that greeted her.

        She stayed in the water until it was cold, or to the point where her toes were so pruned she looked like she had aged a hundred years.

        Stepping out of the tub, she got dressed quickly--dark red undershirt, brown leathers on her chest, shoulders, knees, wrists, and elbows, brown, knee-high boots, and a pair of black pants. These were the clothes she wore most around the kingdom. She had a nicer pair of leathers, full body on, that she wore when traveling.

        Or when she felt particularly good-looking that day.

        Ash ran her hair through a towel, it would dry quickly considering it was so short, and stood in front of the mirror.

        Her skin was as pale as snow, her dark, brown short hair (styled as an undercut) hung slightly in her face. She quickly fixed it so that most of the hair was slicked back, except for one short piece that was flipped and hung in her face. But it wouldn’t affect her activities.

She found herself as being...pretty. Pretty boyish, that is. It wasn’t her fault. She knew a lot of women in her family that were the same way. It was just something in her genes.

        But she couldn’t deny the fact that she liked it this way. Her looks attracted the attention both of that of men and women, giving her an advantage in the dating world.

        As if she’d date at all. No one wants the commander--they want the royal.

        The clock on the wall dinged, indicating that it was time for the classes to begin. Ash turned to leave, but stopped short when she realized she was forgetting something. She snatched up the sunglasses from the bathroom counter and swiftly made her escape.

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

        The halls were eerily quiet at this time in the morning. No one was awake except for the students, who were kept in a separate wing in the palace.

        She stopped by the kitchen and grabbed one of the pastries that her favorite cook left for her--a middle-aged woman with olive skin and dark, greying hair. Her eyes were a forest green that always seemed to be alight with joy.

        “Thanks Madame Renee!” I slipped out of the kitchen, but listened for Renee’s reply.

        “That child--always in a hurry.”

        Laughing, Ash jogged down the hall.  

        Swiftly making her way down the winding corridor that encompassed many rooms that held sleeping royals and royal advisors, Ash went over today’s agenda:

        First, eat breakfast.

        She stared down at the half-eaten pastry in her hand and smiled a closed lipped smile. Check.

        Second, find out whether the shop has obtained any more steel or not. Preferably the kind that can be stained with color for pleasing-my-eyes-type-of-purposes.

        “Ah, so we’ve already begun the day with a tedious task. Wonderful,” she said to herself.

        Ash came to a stop at two tall, mahogany double doors. They were intricately designed with patterns of the tails of snakes, dragons, sea serpents, the marks of sharp-clawed beasts, flowers, vines, what seemed to be a child-like drawing of wind, and words written in the ancient language. All this was carved into the mouth of a sharp fanged wolf. The top of the mouth started at the top of the doors, widening all the way to the bottom of the doors.

        Ash smiled to herself. According to knowledge of only her, her brother, and her mother, Ash had helped design that door. With the help of her Vallasar, Zenaida, they two of them spent a month of brainstorming, sketching, then carving into the two large slabs of mahogany. It was one of her favorite things she had ever created, especially since she did it with Zenny.

        Ash gave a little knock as a warning that she was about to enter and pushed open the doors.

        She stepped into chaos.

        People milled about the room, using their outside voices, giving her a headache. They jumped person to person, pointing something out on a piece of paper or object that they held. She saw a group of blondes bent over some papers, maps, and figurines on a table in front of the far wall. A wall completely open to the outside world. Magic kept things from getting in and from getting out.

        Oh, and glass, of course.

        Ash frowned and strode over to the table full of blondes in the back of the room. She considered what all the hubbub could possibly be about, but nothing rang a bell. The only thing she could determine it being was that they called for a meeting that she simply just wasn’t invited to.

        What a bunch of cowards, she thought to herself. Too scared to come and talk to me when I’ve woken up with a hangover. I’m not that bad.

        If she were honest with herself, Ash quite enjoyed the fact that they feared her. It gave her a sort of leverage.

        She stopped in front of the group of people and leaned against a pillar that lined the steps leading up to the dais where the table stood. No one turned. No one even seemed to notice her.

        Rubbing her hands together, Ash cleared her throat.

        Again, no one turned.

        Clapping her hands together once and clearing her throat with obvious annoyance, Ash was finally able to gain the attention of the blondes.

        They turned in unison.

        The royals. The king, queen, prince, and princesses.  King Rynses was a…burly man. He was covered in hair, heavy set and still slightly muscular around the arms from sword training, and riddled with power. It seemed to pool off him in waves of green.

        Power had a visible color to her while others never could see it.

        Her step mother, the queen, stood tall in all her green glory. She was a perfect match for the king, Ash had noticed a long while ago. The older woman, around in her fifties, wore an emerald gown etched in silver and gold around the bodice, sleeves, and hem of the dress. She smiled wickedly when she realized who it was that interrupted their meeting.

        Her father huffed.

        “I was wondering where you were! I sent Willham to go get you up, but I guess he forgot.” The king swung is head over to Ash’s little, half-brother. The fourteen-year-old smiled apologetically.

        Her father turned back around, a warm smile coating his face. He always seemed to smile so wide that his eyes would automatically close. She loved it.

        “Ash, my dear, we’ve noticed a few problems have begun to arise in Ether. We’re not sure what it is that’s causing the issues but…we know what the issue is.” The king rubbed his face, a heavy, tired sigh rising from him.

        “And? What’s the problem?” I pushed off from the pillar and crossed my arms. I could feel my heart beginning to beat to rhythm of excitement.

        “Things aren’t dying,” he whispered.

        Ash’s breath caught in her throat as she tried to gasp. Her eyes widened with disbelief.

        As if! I would have known. I would have felt it!

        “That can’t possibly be! What are the statistics…what are the numbers? How many are past their death date?”

        Out of nervous habit, I began tapping my foot against the linoleum. The clicking of my shoe rang out against the room and it gained the attention of a few onlookers. My heart began racing to the beat of fear, confusion, and fury.

        Only one creature can stop death.

        A death god.

        And one seems to be messing with the fabric of life.

        That son of a bitch, Ash thought. And an idiot at that. A death god knows better than to stop death. Especially without permission from the mother goddesses.Or from their own mother. Even a mother can change an all powerful god’s mind.

        “Ash, I need you to round up a team of Reapers and head into Ether to deal out death slips.” Ash, I need you to round up a team of Reapers and finish the job. Kill those who did not die.

        She hadn’t been sent on a mission in a while. What about her vacation…she was supposed to leave tomorrow for…well, she forgot where she was supposed to be going but it didn’t matter. It was a break from this place.

        “And on the matter of your vacation…after you’ve done your job, you and your students may stay in Ether for two more weeks to do as you please.”

        It was still a vacation and she’d take it. Ash gave her a father a smile and bowed before running out of the room.

        Her father yelled out, stopping her for a second. “Ash?”

        “Yes, your majesty?”

        “Appoint a second, third, and fourth in command. I’ve noticed the trouble you get into. It might be best to have backups…just in case.”

        Ash lifted her chin. “The probability of me dying is a low one.”

        King Rynses raised his head in turn. “But it is a probable one.”

        And with that, Ash ran out of the room and made her way toward her classroom. Class would be taken outside later today.

        The room teemed with tired souls and some of those few that were always hyper. Ash made her way toward her desk and set down a cup of coffee.

        She had a feeling she would need two more cups before the end of today’s lesson.

        “Good morning! How is everyone today?” Always greet the class with a smile and go-lucky expression. The first lesson on how to get your students to somewhat like you.

        A series of groans and grunts filled the room. Ash’s smile faltered as she realized this was going to be slightly difficult if no one wanted to cooperate. With a sigh, she walked to chalk board near the right wall and began writing down today’s objective.

        Defeat level twenty angel. Raise a level forty demon. I placed the chalk back into its spot and read over what I wrote. They were ahead in their demon studies. I had always preferred demonology over angelology. Demons were, after all, her specialty.

        Someone from the top row whistled. “Is there some special thing or exam going on that we should know about? Because raising a level forty demon is way ahead in our lessons.”

        There could be a slight chance, Ash thought to herself, that I forgot to mention that they stopped on raising a level twenty-five demon. They go by fives, except that the first demon is a level one.

        Ash squared her shoulders and swung around to face her students. She gave them a toothy grin, her capped fangs glinting in the light. Too many sweets as a child.

        “Well, you see, we’ve come face to face with a real issue. I need all of you trained. Fully trained.”

        Someone scoffed. “The new year practically began yesterday, and you want us trained fully by the end of this day? How in the realms are you gonna accomplish that?”

        “First, Seraphine, use proper grammar. It’s ‘going to’ not ‘gonna’. And you shouldn’t underestimate me. You’d be surprised by what your mentor can accomplish in one day.”

        The room was silent, the only sounds being that of pen tapping and feet shuffling. Ash huffed.

        “A lot! I can do a lot in one day!”

        I was pretty sure this day was going to last a lot longer than I had anticipated. I was just hoping that the students would understand, would listen.

        “Wait, does that mean we’re going to be fighting really soon?”

        Ash glanced up toward the top row of seats. A young man, around the age of twenty-three, her age, was seated far into his seat. It was as if he was trying to hide.

        “Ah, that. Well, I’m not so sure. But by the end of the day I will be taking three of you with me to Ether to attend a mission with me. Those three will be named my second, third, and fourth in commands. Today’s lesson is a competition.”

        I swiftly made my way towards the chalk board and drew out my plan for the lesson.

        “There will be ten teams of three. I will give each team a paper with six objectives written down that you must complete in the span of an hour. The objectives are pretty easy to understand; three of them are to defeat a certain level angel and three are to raise and control a certain level demon. The levels will be a surprise. Use the techniques you’ve learned these past few months; all of them will help you. I will not make you do anything I know you can’t do. If you lose control of a demon or angel, I will be there to assist you. I will hover over each team for ten minutes apiece. One team will have my help in the beginning and the other at the end.

        I will select who will be on each team. I will select who I help first and in what order I want to help them. I won’t stand there for ten minutes for each team, I’ll spread the time out. Maybe I’ll help you for five minutes in the beginning and then five minutes at the end. Or I’ll help you for two minutes here, four minutes there, and another four minutes some other time. This class is dismissed.”

        Everyone packed their things and began to leave, but before they could go I stopped them.

        “I’ll have some syllabuses ready later when we begin. For now, dress in your reaper gear and eat something. Rest your bodies. Try to stay relaxed as this is not for a grade. Really, just think about is a competition.”

        Again, they turned and opened the door, but I had remembered one last thing and stopped them once more.

        They groaned and turned to face me.

        “And remember—if you do win and go with me to Ether…you can die. You do not gain your indestructible abilities until after graduation. Please, remember that. But do not slow your team down because of this. If your team wins and you do not want to go, I will replace you with someone on the second-place team. Now, you may leave.”

[1misstherooftop-blog]

There is a train

Read on ao3

Summary: Jack likes sketching people on the subway

Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly

Warnings: none

Word Count: 1663

Jack liked the subway more than most people. He had to ride it everyday but he didn't mind. He liked how simple it was. All he needed to know was the direction and how many stops. He liked tracing the little lines on the maps, the crossing lines of colors and dots that could get him across the whole city. Most of all he liked sketching the people he saw.

He drew anyone who caught his eye. The old woman seated across from him in the cat sweater. The pretty girl who stepped on holding hands with another girl. The child seated in his mother's lap. The man sleeping peacefully till his stop. Jack liked to capture them in the pages of his sketchbook, each sketch holding the person in the pages. He sat quietly, observing and recording.

Davey didn't like the subway very much. There were too many people. He hated being jostled when they stopped too quickly, hated brushing against strangers in the noisy cars. He preferred drowning the chatter out with his headphones, blissfully succumbing to his own private bubble of sound. He couldn't do anything about the space problem, but at least he could have something.

Jack spotted Davey the moment he entered the subway. He stood taller than most of the people that massed on, his head down like he was trying to blend in. Jack stood, offering his seat. Davey paused in front of him, squinting at Jack with perfect blue eyes. He could sit in the offered seat or stand and be jostled about in a crowd of strangers.

Davey sat, thanking Jack before stuffing his headphones in.

Jack stood with his sketchbook open. He had good balance and trusted himself to draw and stand. He tried to draw some of the people, pointedly keeping his eyes off Davey. He half heartedly outlined the little girl in front of him, her chubby hand clutching a torn up stuffed rabbit. He didn't shade it, just left the contours and directed his attention to Davey.

Davey deserved his own page. Jack glanced down at Davey. He tried to stand far enough away to not crowd him, but there were a lot of people on the Subway. He carefully captured the curls of Davey's hair, pulling the lines down to shape his face. He did multiple drawings, capturing the different angles and expressions Davey made as he glanced around. Jack wanted him to look at him. He wanted to preserve the startling blue of his eyes, the graceful sweep of his eyelashes and his dark perpetually worried brows.

Davey did not look at him, preferring to keep to himself. He focused on his music, ignoring the heavy air of the filled subway.

The subway screeched to a stop with a sudden lurch. Jack, usually so well balanced, tumbled. He didn't fall to the ground, instead collapsing into Davey's lap, his sketchbook falling open on his lap. He froze, dazed and quite shocked to have fallen.

Davey grabbed him on instinct, yelping as Jack landed on him. Davey blushed looking at the handsome boy, stuttering for something to say. His eyes swept quickly over Jack's body before landing on the open sketchbook.

"Is that me?" Davey managed.

Jack unfroze, snapping the sketchbook shut and jumping to his feet. "I'm so sorry." He spluttered, embarrassed. He didn't know how he was supposed to answer. He fumbled with his sketchbook, ducking his head to avoid looking at Davey.

"It was really good." Davey said, trying to relieve the tension. People streamed off of the subway, parting around Davey and Jack as they exited.

Jack sank into the now empty seat next to Davey. He thumbed through the pages of his sketchbook, flipping it back open for Davey as the subway moved forwards again.

"I draw people who come on." He tilted the page to show Davey his drawings from earlier in the week. "I ride almost the whole line, gotta find something to pass the time." He explained. "I'm Jack. Jack Kelly." He added as an after thought.

"I'm David Jacobs." Davey said. He nodded at Jack, his eyes following the lines across the page. "These are really good. Are you an artist?"

Jack sort of nodded sort of shrugged. "I want to be one, I'm trying to save money right now."

"So you have more drawings in here?" Davey wanted to see the ones of him. Jack seemed to understand. He flipped quickly to the page he had drawn Davey on. His cheeks were a little flushed as he showed Davey the many sketches.

"These are really nice," Davey breathed. He touched one of the drawings, a profile Jack had done in painstaking detail. "You even got my nose right."

Jack laughed. "I like it." He said without thinking. Davey blinked at him. Jack tried to say something that wouldn't make it seem like he just really liked how Davey looked. "It's interesting lines. And form. It makes the space more dynamic." He didn't even know what he was saying.

Davey nodded anyways. "They're nice." He said again. He was a little pink. He glanced up at the subway map, checking how many stops he had left. "What stop are you?"

Jack checked the map. "Next one."

"Me too," Davey said. He didn't know what to say.

"Same stop," Jack said, a little distracted. "Do you want to maybe grab a coffee or something? Do you have time?"

Davey nodded. "Yeah." He checked his watch. "Yeah, I would like to."

Jack smiled. He closed his sketchbook, tucking it into his bag.

Davey watched him, admiring his fine hands. They were artist hands, long delicate fingers and slim wrists. Davey sort of wanted to hold his hand. He busied himself with wrapping his headphones and putting them in his pocket.

The subway stopped again, doors opening with a ding. Jack and Davey stood, sticking close to each other as they exited to the platform.

"I know a place," Jack said, grabbing Davey's hand to lead him through the crowd.

Davey stumbled after him, clutching tight to his hand. It was soft, keeping Davey near him as he moved out of the subway stop.

Jack dropped Davey's hand once they were out of the crowd. Davey wished he hadn't.

"It's just down here," Jack said, following one of the streets down a line of shops. He pulled the door open for Davey, following him inside. "What do you want? I'll get you it."

Davey glanced at the menu, picking out something reasonable quickly. "Double shot vanilla espresso."

Jack grinned. "Double espresso?"

He said it like expresso. Davey laughed. "There's no X."

"What?" Jack said, looking at the pastries.

"It's an S. ESpresso, Jack."

Jack turned to squint at Davey. "I don't know this stuff dammit I drink hot chocolate with gross shit mixed in."

Davey choked on a laugh. He liked Jack a lot. He knew what he wanted in life and found joy in it all.

"Fine, but I still want my ESpresso."

Jack scrunched his nose up, an unfairly cute expression. He turned to order, getting a hot chocolate for himself and a cinnamon roll "to split."

They sat together at a high table, Jack kicking his legs as he sipped his drink. 

"Want me to cut this up? Or we can just tear it." He said, gesturing to the cinnamon roll.

"Just rip it." Davey said, pulling off some for himself. He sipped his coffee, grateful for the kick of energy it gave him.

"Can I draw you again?" Jack asked.

Davey put his coffee down. "Yeah, okay. Should I do something?"

Jack shook his head. "You don't need to it's just sketches. Enjoy the cinnamon roll."

Davey nodded. He had some more cinnamon roll, acutely aware of the sound of Jack's pencil on the paper. "So where are you heading?" He asked to break the silence.

"I'm going to class early to finish a painting." Jack said, still drawing.

Jack focused a bit too much on Davey's lips, rendering them in detail multiple times. He sketched Davey's eyes, his nose, bits and pieces of his face before he flipped the page over and drew his whole face.

"What are you painting?" Davey asked. He was almost out of coffee.

Jack drew the rough form of Davey's body, leaving the lines unfinished compared to his face. "Santa Fe. There are nice mountains and stuff. Makes an interesting composition. What do you study?"

Davey was technically undecided. He wasn't good at committing to things, always worried he chose the wrong thing. "History." He said, partially true. He had class today at least.

Jack glanced up to smile at him. "That's really cool. I wish I could remember more stuff I learned in high school. I can tell you all about Kaiser Wilhelm at least."

Davey laughed. "His withered left arm?" He joked.

"Yeah!" Jack took a long drink of his hot chocolate. "Well, I don't want to keep you from class, Davey."

Davey finished his coffee, glancing at his watch. He hadn't realized how quickly time was passing. "Oh, you're right. Thank you, Jack. This was really nice."

Jack stood, ripping the page of drawings out. He handed them to Davey. "Maybe we can do this again sometime?"

Davey nodded, taking the paper. He didn't look at it yet, instead focusing on Jack. "I would like that."

Jack beamed. He leaned forward, his lips grazing Davey's cheek for a brief moment. Davey felt his face warm. He blinked a few times, fighting off a grin.

"I'll see you soon, David." Jack promised.

"See you, Jack." Davey left the cafe, glancing down at the drawings.

He stopped on the sidewalk. They were beautiful, prettier than Davey thought a photo of himself could be. And Jack had written his phone number as a signature. Davey put the paper in his bag as gently as possible. He was looking forward to the subway tomorrow.