#I flipped the canvas and forgot to change the doodle

[delusional-cryptid]

I’m really loving @captainbrookeworm ‘s fic “shores of restless souls” (a sequel type thing to LoTL :O!!) and chapter two… it got me alright? Look I love him lots…. And I love drawing braids…. So, Morro with Hairstyle!!

[lil-dragon-draws]

Short hair astrid hc

Okay so I’ve had this hc stewing in the deep dark corners of my brain so I’ve decided to unleash it to y’all

During rtte Astrid gets her hair burned off during a fight with the dragon fliers

so back at the edge she cuts off all the burned parts

And she’s left with hair just past her chin

but now she’s missing her classic braid (now let’s be honest who wouldn’t)

so hiccup ties a little braid in her hair to match his

that’s it

that’s the headcannon

we can all go home now

[mvltisstuff]

hello again, i’ve requested a few times (the feels and sweet nothing) and i was hoping i could request again? (i think i might add an emoji at the end bc i love your writing and will keep requesting as much as you allow ❤️❤️) anyway, i hope you’re doing well and things are going good.

i was wondering if i could request a buck fic where is partner is an artist and he finds a sketchbook of sketches of him and when he asks about it they talk about how pretty he is and how deserves to be appreciated and just making him feel super loved with it. thank you if you get to it and ofc no troubles if you don’t. take care 🥰

also is 🚒 good for a way to recognize me??

wasteland, baby! - e.b

summary: request

evan buckley x reader

a/n: omg you always have such creative ideas! i love receiving requests so always feel free :)) 🚒 = ❤️‍🔥 i also won’t be posting as frequently for the next few weeks due to finals, but after that i’ll be posting a ton!!

buck had come over to y/n’s apartment after his shift for dinner, and the scent of thick acrylic paint and primer had stung at his nostrils. he began to love the smell, as he knew that it meant she was around. he had let himself in with his key, taking in all of the perfectly placed plants and artwork on the walls.

she had a canvas that was almost complete, with just a few finishing touches. buck had walked over to it to examine. her talent was extraordinary. he knew it was out of this world, and the way she was so proud of her pieces his made his heart swell up with love.

“hi, buck!” y/n says, beginning to walk out of the hallway from her room to her art. she was wearing a pair of dark green pants and a white t-shirt which somehow complimented her beautifully. her face had small specks of blue and red on her cheeks and black and grey streaks on her shirt. “sorry it’s such a mess in here, but doesn’t this look great?”

“no, don’t worry about the mess, but how long did that take? it’s amazing!” buck stutters a big, not being able to comprehend how art like that could come out of her hands.

“thank you, love,” she replies, taking his belongings and placing them down for him. “how was work today? anything good?”

“just a normal old day, but you know it’s the 118.”

“it is never normal at the 118,” y/n smiles and gives him a cheek kiss before going to wipe her face off. buck goes to sit down in her living room on the couch, and she follows behind him with a quick change of shirt. she placed a small pizza in the oven to cook for them, and cuddled up next to him while they told each other stories about their day.

“it was wild, y/n,” buck starts. “i mean this woman literally rose from the dead after like 15 minutes, after being under a street. oh! you’re going to love this- and we saved some puppies in a sewer.”

“oh my god, are they ok?”

“they’re all fine, but i’m not sure if we are right now.”

“what do you mean?” she asks, slowly and carefully.

“you don’t smell something burning?”

she takes a deep inhale and looks over to her smokey kitchen. it wasn’t too bad, but definitely enough to make it inedible. “shit! fuck, i forgot about it!” she says, bouncing the pan up and down while trying not to burn herself.

y/n was busy discarding of the pizza when buck looked over at her with joy. he had a cheeky smile on his face and was laughing at the forgetfulness of both of them. he looked back down in front of him and the coffee table, and he saw a book that y/n always has on her. she brings it to work, to her family, anywhere she goes, she has it. it was her beloved sketchbook, filled with hundreds of small doodles and big pieces. buck has seen a lot of things in it, admiring each one before he comes across a bookmarked section.

when he flips the pages of the book, he notices that the person that is sketched and shaded looks particularly familiar. he makes note of the sharp nose and soft, but hard jaw. he sees the famous birthmark on the side of his face. he’s never looking right on, though. he’s always focused on something or has a light grin on his face. buck knows these are of him, but he doesn’t think he had any importance to be the top drawing in her book.

y/n walks back in to greet her boyfriend, “i think we might just have to ord-“ she looks at the sketches that she had put on that paper. a heat rose up into her face, reddening her cheeks and making her feel a sense of embarrassment.

“a-are these me?” buck asks, quietly. y/n nods, slowly, praying that she didn’t make him uncomfortable and that she will see him again tomorrow. “i-um..”

“you don’t have to say anything, buck. i never meant for you to see those and if you don’t like them, i’ll never do it again i swear. you just, you’re so beautiful, buck. and i love to draw beautiful things.”

“i just don’t know what to say, these are so good. i feel like you know me more than i know myself,” he says, chuckling a bit.

“you like ‘em?”

“i love them,” buck says.

“good, i just couldnt stop myself. you are always so pretty, no matter what and i want you to know that, so i tried to convey it through this. i was going to show you eventually, but i wanted to do more.”

“why me, though? you could draw anyone,” buck asks.

“no one else is you! you might have a pretty face and all but there is really nothing more beautiful than your soul. you are filled with so much love and sweetness and i’ve been dying to find a way to show you, because you are loved, evan. i love you and i wanted to put my two favorite things together. not a day goes by where i have anything but love for you.”

suddenly, the feeling in bucks chest is rising stronger, feeling like it’s going to burst. when it does, he has strong riptides of tears in his eyes. with a pure smile on his face, he passionately leaves a kiss on her lips, and he feels loved for the first time.

growing up, his parents never showed him love. he always begged for it from everyone he knew, and now he feels like it isn’t deserved. but someone, y/n made him feel like he will forever be worthy of love. and he will never forget how she fixed him for the best.

[destinymanticor]

some doodles (sp▶)

a few drawings about the AU that I imagined in the morrotober2022

there is no chronology, just scribbling on the phone

small explanations for the pictures ↓↓↓↓↓

!!!!!! there are a lot of headcanons here, the canon was sent far and for a long time even before the Wojira had a reason to be angry

uh.... a lot of things will sound strange

but I'm trying to share my thoughts as best I can 😅👉👈

Stone golems

Amulet of the storm is a battery and a weak accumulator, morro is a large accumulator

Yes…. Morro will be able to release lightning without critical damage to himself by this time.

The golems are confused. They are supposed to protect the source of the storm in the cave, but for some reason another source is outside the place where they are supposed to guard…

the output of the golems' algorithm? - catch and place to the first 👍

┗|｀O′|┛

┗|｀O′|┛

┗|｀O′|┛

The Dream(?)

the last thing I drew on the canvas, there was just a lot of empty space

this is a slightly drawn frame that could be in animatic (2), but I didn’t have time a little

1) this dream is fuzzy, waking up Morro will only remember that he forgot someone and that the sea is salty and there are a lot of sounds

they are painted in the main color (W N M) with the addition of others

(⊙x⊙;) oupsi ?

2) Morro after turning into a human slept badly and on his back

After some time after the twins of time, he began to sleep on his stomach, even later with his face in the pillow. Every time Kai notices this, he grabs morro's hair and flips him over onto his side (Morro doesn't usually wake up)

casual (civilian) clothing

style has changed over time from closed to more open clothing

→ first time since season 5

→ after about season 6, Nya and Jay added to his wardrobe

→ → ~~~~~between seasons 7 and 8

open-fingered gloves and blue nail polish

+rough scar map

True Potential? Before True form(?) or Merging with the elements?????

(´。＿。｀)

!Strange headcanon about the line of storm and water

Unlike Nya and Nyad, Wojira could merge with the weather and return back. Cause:

drumroll

She was mature enough and quite a master of her powers.

In short: the amulets weren't amulets, but more like an anacondrai crystal on/in the head. It is only for young. Those metal things made of gold were made by others.

The Wojira crystals gave rise to powers for the islanders (about the story that they were less purple before) and the ancient merlopians (literally had a temple to her, yes, yeap, right (。_。) ).

Crystals of Nyad and Morro (from him much later) were not voluntarily extracted. Wojira was angry. Nyad, after taking a more humanoid form, could not take the True form, so she merged with the elements and plunged Wojira into SLEEP, and did not kill her as everyone expected.

Morro, ice, time, panic, instinct, human form, poor memory.

/end "In short"

Why is Morro's scars green even though he's purple? ahhh …. so far there is no normal for lore, I concluded that it’s just about the opposite in the color circle

Kai, Morro, shackles

Small fan season (no title) between seasons 7 and 8.

"Fire and wind at one moment are captured and they need to get out" (rough disclaimer)

Morro is quite adept at picking locks.

"Will they be able to get through the obstacles, save their lives and the lives of their comrades?" (rough disclaimer)

In short, this season he should get closer on the friendship scale with Kai and Cole, as well as consolidate the result with Zane.

Doll

Nothing serious

just like if someone made ninja dolls and decided to make a "new team member" doll and like this:

"this is terrible! why so much green (/j).

Too bad I can't just walk up to this bastard 😡

with a book of colors and pick the right ones 😩"

Ghost Morro and leaf - just for fun

[sablegear0]

My “Best Sketchbook”

An artist I follow on Twitter posted a general question; how old is your main/favourite OC and how have they changed since their inception? Suddenly I was possessed of the irresistible urge to dig up my old high school sketchbook, knowing that was where I first scribbled out the creature that would become Cat Toy. 

This sent me careening back over a decade into my memories as I flipped through what I privately hold is my “Best Sketchbook.” Allow me to explain in the form of a long-winded storytime blog... (lots of images and story under the cut!)

I found this particular book in a desk in the art room of my high school in maybe grade 10 or 11. Being a notorious stationery vulture, I was instantly tempted to claim it for my own. Realizing, however, that someone probably just forgot it, I waited until my next class to check and see if it was still there. Sure enough, it was. It was already beat up and the first page had been used, but the rest was blank and it was clearly abandoned. So... I adopted it.

(Here’s the drawing on the first page, kept out of respect for the original owner. Signed, even, but I never found anyone by that name. FWIW, if you somehow bumble across this blog and recognize this marker drawing from high school, this is where your sketchbook ended up!)

Anyway, this sketchbook went everywhere with me, in and out of school. This was also around the time I discovered felt-tip pens were far superior to ball-points and was in the habit of doing my lineart with them. Naturally this book became full and festooned with felt-tip scribblings and sketches in both black and coloured pen. 

But it wasn’t just sketches. I did everything in this book. I’m talking writing, both personal and for school. I found snippets of original stuff, old fanfic, and notes for school projects, written in all different colours in shockingly level lines despite the blank paper. The fic snippets even had messy “illuminated” first letters because why not.

There was finished art, unfinished art, doodles, geometric scribbles, song lyrics, in-jokes from my friends, everything in this sketchbook. It was a mess, comparatively, to my usual books full of finished drawings. But, frankly that’s what I miss the most about it.

(Name that song! Also horse and cubes from prior image on the reverse side)

(Still plan to redo this guy some day^. He’d look fantastic in digital form)

(Literal bugbear)

Something about the found, scrappy nature of this notebook made it a magical place where I could just put anything, professionalism, degree of finished-ness, technique, media, or sensibility be damned. (Notably there also exists a contemporary sketchbook of finished/refined pieces, so this wasn’t my only outlet at the time!) To this day I struggle to recapture that freeform magic. I’ve tried, but the fact is I can’t break away from the idea that a sketchbook is reserved for finished pieces (or attempts at finished pieces) only.

Maybe it was because this was high school, and I was drawing openly, so it became a kind of canvas for my friends’ thoughts as well as my own. Maybe I’ve grown up in the “wrong” direction and need to work on breaking out of strict habits. I don’t know. But I remember this mess fondly because it was something uniquely free.

By the way, since you can see him on the back page of the previous image, here’s Original Cat Toy

As you can see his design hasn’t changed much into the present. I’ve dropped the half-and-half “skeletal”/mitten paws, preferring the skeletal look because they’re easier to pose and more expressive. But beyond that, he’s remained pretty much unchanged. Why mess with perfection, right?

I don’t really know if there’s a takeaway from this. I guess it would be that you don’t need to feel constrained to refined, “finished” art in a single book. Art is whatever the hell you want it to be, and a notebook is just paper. Put whatever you want on it, however you want. Make it messy, use different media (not pictured, but there are a couple pages where I used India Ink because that’s what was available in art class). 

I know It can be hard to designate a book to wreck. Currently I have a few different pads/sketchbooks (mainly for different paper types) and an actual journal for daily stuff, I rarely write fic by hand anymore. Maybe I need a change.

Anyway, I just wanted to share this weird slice of my creative history with the internet. Hopefully there’s something inspiring or liberating about it to you. Until next time!

[elle-in-hell]

when the day met the night

hey here’s a new reddie fic for y’all! it’s my first multi-chapter fic so hopefully it isn’t terrible! 

florist!eddie & tattooartist!richie

find it on ao3 here

chapter 1 - snapdragons (strength & grace)

“Alright, I’m taking off! See ya’ in an hour!” Eddie’s best friend and coworker, Stan, called as he left for his lunch break. The small bell above the door jingled, signaling his departure as Eddie gave a small wave before propping himself on top of the counter and let his legs hand over the side.

He had been working at the local Derry florist for a few summers since he turned sixteen and as much as he hated having to talk to people and actually have things to do, he liked the flowers and his coworkers were pretty nice. It almost felt like a little rebellion when he first took the job. Ever since he had discovered about his mother faking all of his illnesses, he made it his mission to finally experience and appreciate all of the things she kept from him as a kid. Flowers were one of them. Peaceful rebellions that consisted of making bouquets and stacking flower pots was more his style anyway. Work was slow, as almost always, and Eddie meticulously just began re-organizing the seed packets on display beside him. However, almost instantly, the door chimed again and Eddie jumped, dropping his handfuls of seed packets at the unexpected noise. He quickly hopped off the counter, kneeling down as he attempted to pick up as many packets as he could before anyone noticed. Just when he thought he was in the clear, a seconds set of hands appeared in front of him, cleaning up the small boy’s mess. The chipped black nail polish was unlike anything Eddie had expected to see from someone coming through that door. He collected the rest of his things, placing them in a pile on the counter before looking up at the person standing before him.

A large, worn leather jacket rested loosely on the thin frame of a very, very lanky boy. He towered over the smaller boy at what he would guess to be over six feet tall. An equally ill-fitting Rolling Stones shirt covered his chest underneath and dozens of bracelets lines his wrists. His impossibly long legs wore ripped black jeans and a ratty pair of old canvas shoes covered in doodles hid his antsy feet. Eddie wondered if he had drawn them himself. Long dark hair was tied up messily atop his head and allowed his pierced ears to be seen, along with a tiny tattoo of a paper boat behind his ear. Giant turtle shell glasses magnified his wide brown eyes and Eddie Kapsbrak felt his heart skip about ten beats.

Needless to say, flaming bisexual Richie Tozier felt more than a little enamored just staring at the smaller boy. A dark green apron with a daisy in the front also held his name; ‘Eddie’ embroidered in pretty white writing. A pastel pink polo shirt stuck out from under the apron and made the rosy blush on his freckled cheeks even more prominent. Perfectly arranged brown waves rested delicately on top of his head and Richie couldn’t stop himself from loving how small the other boy was.

“Hi,” Eddie rushed out, instantly second-guessing how his voice sounded or if the boy even wanted to be bothered. “C-can I help you?”

Richie smiled. How could he not?

A soft chuckle escaped his chapped lips as he plucked a small flower from a display beside him and began to twiddle it in his fingers.

“I work across the street, actually. I usually just stick around during my break, but my girl’s home sick so I thought I’d come check the place out,” he said, never moving his gaze from the flower in his hands.

Eddie felt a pang in his heart. Oh. He had a girlfriend. Of course he did.

“Oh, okay, well if you need anything, just let me know,” Eddie spoke softly, forcing himself to turn away from the boy and attempting to mask the disappointment in his voice. Just as he was about to begin re-organizing the seed display he had ruined, the boy decided he wasn’t yet.

“Actually, um, my friend Bev, well, uh, maybe some flowers would make her feel better, you know?” He chuckled awkwardly, adjusting his glasses as he rubbed the back of his neck with his other hand. He had that little hopeful glint in his eye.

Eddie couldn’t help but grin, both at his use of the word ‘friend’ rather than ‘girlfriend’ and that he might actually get to know this boy. He nodded, stepping out from behind the counter and immediately leading the tall boy around the store.

“So do you happen to have any of those flowers that mean thinks? You know, like the ones where each color means something else?”

Eddie chuckled and nodded.

“You mean all flowers?” He teased, loving the blush that immediately covered the tall boy’s face.

“R-right,” he said awkwardly. “Got anything that means ‘get well soon’?”

When the smaller boy nodded, picking a few white hyacinths, snapdragons, and goldenrods and tossing them into a basket, Richie smiled, only feeling slightly out of place.

They collected enough flowers for a small bouquet that Eddie tied up with a light blue ribbon, symbolizing health and tranquility, as Richie tossed a twenty dollar bill onto the counter as he collected his bouquet and turned towards the door.

“Wait!” Eddie called, feeling a sudden rush of confidence. “Y-you forgot your change.”

Richie just turned around and smiled his signature crooked grin as he winked, continuing to leave.

“Keep it. Call it a tip for your troubles,” he said, and Eddie couldn’t help but blush. “Maybe pop on by across the street sometime.”

The small boy’s brain did a double-take.

“I, uh, yeah! I mean, yes! Sure! I mean, maybe, if I can,” Eddie rambled, face-palming immediately afterwards at his inability to form coherent sentences. Fuck, why was this so difficult?

“I’ll keep my eye out, Eds,” the boy said, winking as he closed the door behind him, the bell chiming to show that this time, he was actually gone. Eddie draped himself across the counter dramatically and repeatedly banged his forehead against the painted wood.

It didn’t take long before the bell chimed again, and Eddie flipped his hair out of his face, folding his arms under his chin.

Stanley Uris stalled back into the shop with a plastic bag swinging in his hand and a worn notebook under his opposite arm. His blond curls were covered by a beanie due to the cold fall weather and he deposited all three items onto the counter beside Eddie.

“Well you look like shit,” he teased, smirking at the much smaller boy. Eddie groaned, peeling himself off of the counter and leaning up against the wall behind him. “Seriously, what the hell have you been doing?”

Eddie ran a hand through his hair, still unable to get the boy out of his head.

“So this guy came in a little while ago,” he started, obviously peaking his friend’s interest as he raised a curious eyebrow. “And basically I still haven’t recovered.”

Stan rushed away and Eddie watched on as he flipped the door sign from reading ‘open’ to ‘closed’.

“Okay, spill everything,” he pleaded dramatically, probably needing to talk about someone else’s love life other than his own.

Eddie chuckled, hopping back up onto the counter.

“So basically he’s perfect.”